Flight Home [FM]

I finally made it through security and was hoping to enjoy a few unhurried minutes in one of the coffee shops—no such luck. Evidently, everyone was leaving New York that weary Wednesday morning, and the extra-long lines to check-in had left me only a few minutes to run to the bathroom. I thought I was saving time by not checking any baggage, but rolling my little bumper sticker covered up pride didn’t help me much as I made my Olympic jaunt to boarding. I made it, and just as I sat down, I heard, Good morning, we will now begin boarding for flight 2167 nonstop service to Atlanta; I laughed; I would barely have time to catch my breath. I was flying coach, of course, and my zone was boarding first. I like boarding first and exiting last.

It meant I had to squeeze down the aisles between hardly any people. While I loved to fly. I hated the swarms of people here and there, and especially in the tight confines of the plane. So I boarded and found my seat in the very last row. I wondered if anyone had bought the seat next to mine. The plane was full of what I call stuffy men in suits and a few other tourists.

So I figured I’d try to get some sleep. I got my neck pillow from my upright, gaze out the window, and then shut my eyes. I dozed off, but we’ll back up to your amount, asking to excuse me. I have a seat in first class, but I’m kind of just wanting to sit back here and chat with my old friend. Would you like to sit upfront? This man was talking to a woman in a stuffy suit sitting right next to me. I figured he must know the gentlemen in the row process.

The lady kindly gave him her seat and walked toward the front. He sat down next to me and said, so, how are you doing today? What brought you to New York? Excuse me? I said, confused. Am I your old friend? I don’t know you. He laughed nervously. Yes. I thought you were someone I knew. You are lying. Okay, you’re right. I have never seen you before. But I saw you rush up to boarding. And you got in line to board so quickly. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you out there. So here I am.

At this point, you must have been able to read the expression on my face because then he went into his explanation of why he wanted to chat. I know, I know. This is strange. But when I saw you, I just instantly felt compelled to talk to you. It was like there was already a connection, and it was just pulling me towards you. Funny. I said a bit sarcastically. I didn’t feel a thing. He laughed. But his laughter didn’t sound nervous anymore. It sounded more like a laugh of assurance. He was right. We had a subconscious force drawing us together. He was sitting down, so I couldn’t tell how tall he was. I loved tall man.

I didn’t care, though. His height seemed perfect sitting beside me. He wasn’t too thick, but still a little Husky. He had messy blond hair that he styled the way the young kids do nowadays. And he was 30 ish. I guessed I couldn’t help but notice this T-shirt. It was a silhouette of Bill Murray. I like your shirt. Thanks. It’s bill fucking Murray. We both laughed. He was a delight. I could just tell that we would enjoy the flight to Atlanta. But then what? So what exactly was it other than this forcefield connection that drew you to me? You look a little too old to be toting a bumper sticker-covered upright, so that told me instantly that you were probably interesting and didn’t care too much for the rules. He was dead on.

That was me. I was smitten. He was attracted to me for many reasons, but my parents had yet to come up. I listened as he continued on about the things that drew him to me. I could feel my chest rising and a slow but heavy pant. There was that uneasy but welcome heaviness that almost makes you queasy with want. I was covered up in my blanket and wanted to share the warmth with him. There we sat, my blanket just big enough just to cover both our laps. So I placed my hand on his right thigh, and he closed his eyes. I slowly but firmly guided my hand up and down from his inner to the outer thigh.

I tried carefully not to find his manhood too quickly. Then he placed his inviting large fingers on my left thigh and slowly inched up my bohemian skirt. He rubbed my thigh, and then his fingers glided up over the top of my silky thong; he could feel the warm pool of my wanting through the silk. And within moments, he slipped one finger right into me. Then another finger took the same trip. By this time, I was lightly moaning under my heavy breaths. My heart was pounding. I kept my eyes closed. I wanted him so badly that it didn’t matter if anyone noticed what we were doing. I veered a little further with my hand and used my fingers to firmly stroke the mass in his pants. I felt his penis get harder and began pulsing.

So I reclined my seat to give him just the right angle to begin sliding his fingers in and out of me. He’d slide one in than two in and out, and then he’d lightly rub my clip; I began to rock my hips back and forth, and he continued to tantalize me with his giving fingers. Finally, we landed. I had never even heard the flight attendant come by and offer refreshments. It was time for me to pack My blanket and regained my composure, but I didn’t want to. We made it to Atlanta. So is this your last stop? He asked. No, my next flight is in a couple of hours. He smiled the same year. He said we got off the plane.

And as we walked into the airport, he said, So should we have lunch? I knew he really didn’t mean lunch, but we had something to finish. He spotted a little taco place and said I think this will work. We went in and found a booth nestled in the back. It was still a little early. So we were the first patrons there. I was still wet from the plane trip and needed to feel his penis in me, or I was going to explode. The waitress told us that she was the only one there. So she had to wait for the tables and cook. How convenient. We placed a huge order for lunch and hoped that no one else would come in.

This would keep her busy in the kitchen for a while. He motioned for me to follow him, and I went into the men’s bathroom. There. He pinned me against the wall and rubbed his penis on me. I was panting so hard. I almost lost my breath. Then he raised my shirt and licked my breasts before finding his way under my skirt. There he squeezed my hips before diving right into my vagina. His lips and tongue were so warm, and he licked me so that I thought I would jump out of my skin. He could feel me pulsating as he thrust two fingers inside of me. I grabbed his stiff penis as he threw his jacket on the counter, picked me up, and placed me on his jacket. He quickly dropped his pants, and before I knew it, he was inside me.

We were so hot that it took just a few strokes to make me come, and within moments he was coming to afterward. We were both dripping with sweat and panting as we let our lips lightly touch. We quickly cleaned up and went back to our table to find our lunch waiting. But I didn’t want to stay and ruin the moment. I kissed his forehead. You are a delight.

Thank you. He smiled. And as I got my upright to walk away, he said, I never got your name. I smiled back and winked at him. I didn’t get yours either.

Here’s the audio porn story: [https://sounderotica.com/stories/flight-home](https://sounderotica.com/stories/flight-home)

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/o0xy2v/flight_home_fm