Mile High SeXStoRY

You're distracted, enticed not so much by the chaotic world of the airport revealed outside the plane window through which you appear to be staring, but more by the thought of what awaits in London and by the constant throb of the small latex dildo that's buried inside you. The stewardess has to ask you twice what you'd like to drink and you feel the flared base of the plug press against your anus as you sit back in your seat to respond that you'd like a vodka tonic. A thinning fat man in an enormous navy blazer and a striped polo shirt buttoned to the neck squeezes past the attendant and into the cabin and you're relieved when he walks past the empty seat next you, having given it and you the once over with lecherous eyes as he approached. There's a steady stream of people filing past now, filling up cattle class behind and you resume your uninterested vigil of the world outside whilst your mind plays with the possibilities of what I might intend for you over the weekend. The dildo tight in your asshole is a constant reminder of sex, my cock, how I might feel, how we will fuck. Your pussy has been wet with anticipation since you left your apartment a couple of hours earlier. The dildo arrived in the post the previous morning, along with a brief note from me instructing you in its use and a first class ticket to Paris. You felt slightly odd inserting it before you left, the intial coldness of the lubricant and the latex followed by a feeling of being almost uncomfortably full in the wrong place. You weren't sure it was particularly stimulating in itself, but the idea of wearing it out in public, walking through the airport, through security, knowing that it was there, that I'd asked you to keep it in your asshole especially for me was definitely arousing. The thought of me taking it out and replacing it with my fingers, my tongue, my cock sparks continuously in your mind and maintains the sexual intoxication that seems to pervade all your senses. Lost in a fantasy that involves being tied to a hotel bed for 48 hours or involves tying me to the bed for 48 hours, you can't decide which, you're only vaguely aware of someone easing themselves into the seat next to you. You only notice their presence when you sense them looking out of the window over your shoulder. You're about to recline back into your seat when you hear my whisper, instructing you not to turn around. Pretend not to know me, I tell you and sit back myself as the stewardess approaches to take my own drink order. I reach underneath the seat in front of me and retrieve a pad from the black computer bag that I've stashed there. As the stewardess places my beer on the small tray at the end of my arm rest, I scribble a note on the pad telling you take your knickers off. I don't have to look round at you to know that you've read what I've written. I hear you unbuckle your seat belt and pretend to be engrossed in my pad as you head to the restroom and lock yourself in, appeasing the protests from the stewardess that we're soon to depart with a promise to be quick. When you return I can feel the smirk on your face rather than see it. I'm still looking ahead as you retake your seat and I feel your fingers stab my thigh under the armrest between us, using the pretext of searching for one strap of your seat belt to wedge your panties underneath me. The last few stragglers have filed past and the plane door is shut, ready for our taxi to the runway. As the plane ambles away from the terminal you see me retrieve your panties, bunching them so that no-one else can see what I have in my hand. I bring them to my face and smell your arousal, the scent of your pussy making my growing cock twitch inside my pants. I have to move to adjust myself, lest it becomes too obvious how much you're turning me on. I can tell by the occasional squirm in your seat that you're feeling the same way. Once the plane has levelled out I reach for my pad and etch another note, this time telling you to wait a few minutes and then call the stewardess, asking her if she has any painkillers for the chest pains that you're about to have. I see you nod your head subtly out of the corner of my eye and pretend to keep scribbling notes to myself on the pad. When I glance over at you a minute later, there's a look of discomfort on your face and you've started to hug yourself a little as though you're in pain. I smile inwardly at your act and know that it's convincing enough to fool the stewardess. You're good; your increasingly anxiety is obvious and even without looking at you I can tell you must appear very uncomfortable. Without having to press the call button, the stewardess approaches, leaning across me to ask if you're feeling ok. You respond as ordered, with obvious pain in your voice to lend a little more realism to the act. When the stewardess says that she's not sure she's got anything that could help, I put down my pad with obvious exasperation and tell you both that I'm a doctor and ask what the problem seems to be. I'm impressed that you manage to suppress the smile that must be skirting behind your lips and keep up the pretense by repeating the problem to me as though I couldn't have heard it the first time. With a roll of my eyes I suggest I'd better take a look and pushing the stewardess out the way reach into the overhead locker for the stage medical kit that I've specifically brought along to lend an air of authenticity to my ploy. There's some interest from the other passengers, but thankfully nothing that makes it look like one of them might be a genuine doctor who could scupper my plan. Removing a stethoscope from my bag I tell you that I'd better have a look and order you to remove your shirt. You play it perfectly, looking back at me with scared eyes. Not in front of everyone one, you protest, looking around the cabin. Wearily I turn to the stewardess and ask if there's anywhere more private and right on cue she suggests the restroom. Bingo. I help you out of your seat and steer you towards the rest rooms. I can feel the anticipation as my arm circles around your back and it's hard not to grin rather than maintain my medical snarl. As soon as we're inside the cubicle and I've locked the door I push you up onto the sink pulling your skirt up so that I can feast my eyes on your smooth pussy. My face is drawn towards your sex and you feel my tongue dive between the puffy lips of your cunt, fucking you there, tasting your wetness, grinding my face into you. Your hands are on the back of my head, pulling me closer to your pussy, almost suffocating me as I lick you, my tongue exploring your wet hole, snaking up to your hard clit, circling it, flicking it, feeling your pussy getting wetter. I keep tonguing your cunt, massaging your clit over and over again, bringing you close to your climax, but stopping you by taking the pressure off a little, bringing my tongue back down to your hole, circling round there, which feels good, but not as good as it does on your clit. You can feel my tongue go lower, tracing the pucker of your arsehole as it clings around the plastic of the dildo. My hand reaches up and gently fucks the dildo into your arse as I lick it. I keep fucking you with it as my tongue slides senuously back to your pussy to taste your cum again, parting those pretty lips, feeling the tightness of your cunt as I try to get as deep inside as I can. I begin to lick upwards again, stabbing my tongue into you, but not quite touching your clit. I can sense your anticipation, sense how much you want to come, how much you want to feel my tongue on that sensitive spot once more. I'm moving the dildo in your arse more frenetically now, feeling your arsehole loosen up as the larger end of it stretches you over and over again. I hear you gasp a little louder as you feel the heat and slick hardness of my tongue finally return to tease your clit and I only half hope that nobody outside can hear. My tongue starts a steady rhythm against your clit in time with the dildo that I'm repeatedly sliding in and out of your tight arsehole, wanting you to come this time, wanting to feel you release, wanting you to cover my face with your cum. I'm flicking your clit more quickly, adding more pressure, my chin wet against your hole, the dildo pistoning into your anus and I can feel you getting closer and closer, feel all of you building, getting ready to spasm. My face pushes into your cunt harder and my tongue fights more urgently with your clit. You pull my head into you as your orgasm begins to crash through you, your thighs trembling round my ears, pushing and pulling at my head as it becomes too much, but then not enough because you want to keep going, keeping coming forever until it is too sensitive and you finally push my head away. Before you can recover I'm inside you, my cock thrusting deep into your pussy in one swift movement, my lips mashing against yours in an urgent kiss, giving you no time to relax, forcing you to fuck with me, to build up again. My cock is very hard and spears through your wet cunt, filling you alongside the dildo wedged in your arsehole. I fuck you urgently, sliding in and out of you as my tongue explores your mouth, dueling with yours, my lips pulling on your lips, moving down to you neck, kissing you there, biting you there, my hands frantically unbuttoning your shirt, pushing your bra down to search out your perfect tits, cupping them, mauling them, pulling on your nipples, making them hard, hurting you, pleasuring you, my mouth back to yours kissing you again, all the while my cock fucking your beautiful cunt. Mile high, you whisper into my ear as I fuck you and then ask me if I want your ass. I shake my head. Paris, I tell you and keep fucking you. Come in me, you plead as your hands pull me into you and I fuck you harder, turned on by your words, wanting to make you my cumslut. But not this way. I can see the annoyance in your eyes when I stop and pull out, but it changes back to lust when I order you to suck me. I stand back so that you can kneel in front of me, how I like to see you suck my cock. You take the whole thing in your mouth in one go, making me gasp this time as I feel the head hit the back of your throat. You slide your mouth back away along the length of my cock, tasting yourself and my precum as you do so. Your eyes are fixed on mine as your tongue twirls around me, drawing your lips along my shaft until you're only sucking the head. You open your mouth so that only your tongue is touching my cock and you circle the head before fucking my pisshole, pushing into it as hard as you can, your hands stroking my balls, a finger sliding further underneath to tickle my crinkled arsehole. You take my entire cock into your mouth again and start to fuck it with your mouth, sliding up and down along its length repeatedly while you suck it. Your finger is busy teasing my arsehole and you're bringing me closer and closer to my own climax. I can feel it building in my balls, the huge desire to come, to cover you in come, to make you my cumslut, to treat you as my sextoy and I begin to fuck your mouth back, grabbing the back of your head, using you, wanting to show you that I own you, that you're mine to do with as I please. Both hands are on your head now and I can feel you gagging slightly on my cock as I fuck your mouth harder, closer and closer to filling it with come, not caring if I hurt you, just wanting to get off, to spill my spunk in you, on you. Just as I'm about to come I pull out again and tell you to pull your shirt open. You understand what I want and show me your breasts that you know I want so much. I jack my cock, aiming straight at your chest, wanting to see my cum covering those gorgeous tits. I'm so turned on, so built up, that it hits me quickly and with an unbelievable intensity, a massive rush as I pump more and more of my cum onto your tits, glazing them both, globs of spunk running the down the curves, coating your nipples. You're smiling at me as you stand up. You look down at your chest and laugh a little, reaching over to retrieve a tissue to clean yourself up. I push your hand down and looking into your eyes I pull your bra back up over your cum covered tits, encasing them in the material for the rest of the journey. I button your shirt up and you smooth your skirt. All better, I ask. All better doctor, you reply. We take a moment to get our breath back, to adjust ourselves and then exit the cubicle to return to our seats. The stewardess gives me an inquisitive look. Just a bit of wind, I inform her as I slide into my seat next to you and resume the fictitious study of my pad. Interesting treatment, she replies and serves us both another round of drinks with a knowing smirk on her face as she glances at the damp patch forming slowly across your chest.