I watched her approach down the aisle of the plane, tall and elegant, totally professional, but something about her spoke of something more. To this day I cannot say what exactly it was even though the moment is etched on my mind. Maybe it was the glint in the deep brown eyes, maybe the slightly low cut of the blouse under the designer cut of her jacket? Perhaps the swing of her hips as she placed her trolley above me. Whatever it was I just had to watch her as she slowly and carefully unpacked her things for the flight ahead. My insides tightened as I caught a little more of the lightly tanned skin under her blouse as she lowered her bag under the seat in front. She caught me looking at her as she opened her magazine and smiled. Shyly I smiled back, but the moment to speak was lost as she buried herself in reading as the crew went about their final checks.
Later as the drinks arrived we spoke, my attention hanging on every word from that first moment. Pleasantries at first, then deeper conversation about life and our lives. Both of us married, both in that stage of life where it feels like work is too much of every day, and the moments for pleasure too far between. Both with other halves like best friends, not lovers. Both clearly in need but frightened to satisfy the need. Before long you could feel the tension rising between us, smiles, gestures, words, all adding to the flirtatious atmosphere. I guess we knew we wanted each other from the moment we started speaking, probably before, but both of us to frightened to ask or suggest.
Eight hours of conversation later as the carousel discharged the bags from the depths of the airport we were still talking, still flirting. I watched as she disappeared through the sliding doors to her taxi up state as I headed in to the city. Her high heels clicking on the tiled floor, watching her slim and petite figure retreat away from me. Thinking what might have been, regretting in that moment not asking for her number or email.
After four long days in the New York Office I was still thinking of her gorgeous sensuous outline from behind and the last words we had said to each other. I was just pouring some coffee in the lounge on the way home waiting to board when a breathy “Hello” whispered in my ear and I turned to see her there again for the return flight. Her smile sent shivers though me as I admired the wheaten long hair framing her face, taking in a new casual look on her fit body. The change from business suit to tight blue mohair jumper and jeans made her look simply stunning. I was struggling to hide my instant hardness as I turned to her. I could feel that tension again, same as the flight out, and this time I think we both knew we would not be leaving matters unfinished.
The flight was torture, luck does not strike twice and we were seated apart, and worse she was with other colleagues. I was relegated to watching her from across the plane, my constant fantasies keeping me awake through the overnight flight. Even the few moments to speak as we passed in the galley raised the tension higher, her few words “are you feeling as impulsive as I am?” leaving little doubt that we would not be heading home after touch down.
As I exited the plane I saw her, waiting, leaning casually against the wall in the terminal at the top of the ramp. I approached her. “Wait,” she said, “Let the plane empty.” As the last passengers disappeared up the corridor, I reached for her and touched her face. Our lips met and her tongue probed deep in my mouth, circling and circling. My hands smoothed the outline that I had watched across the plane. Fingers running over the fine threads of her top, feeling the contours of her skin underneath. She pressed against me and we both could feel the desire in us mounting. We walked up the corridor, every five yards kissing and reaching under each other's clothes. Fingers on skin, caring nothing for the airport video scanners or occasional passengers passing. The danger of being seen making us hotter and me harder.
How we managed to get through passports, retrieve bags, and exit customs with clothes intact is something I wonder. Somehow we had touched each other fleetingly everywhere, hands probing briefly, fleetingly in every place.
As we sat in the taxi to a randomly chosen hotel I could smell her wetness on my fingers from the moment just before passports where we had pressed against the wall and my fingers had slid into her jeans, sliding down her slit and nearly into the depth of her wetness. Her hand had even freed me for a moment, just before that, her fingers touching the smooth head of my circumcised cock bulging over the top of my underwear, making me groan for more.
As we fell into the hotel room our hands started again, exploring, lowering zips and slipping buttons. My hands slid under her top, her bra already hanging loose from moments in the terminal. I could feel her small breasts as a totally perfect fit my hands, her jutting nipples pressing into the palm of each hand, hardening again at my touch. My fingers rubbed each nipple in turn, gently rubbing, making it stick up hard. I lifted her top, freeing them, wanting to suck them, to run my tongue over them and flick them. The blue jumper was thrown to the side. Urgency overweighing my desire to make the moment last, my hands freed her belt and dropped her jeans and knickers together, leaving her naked. Her gorgeous petite figure set out for my eyes. Taking her in from the long hair, to pink nipples to the shaven slit glistening below, my eyes devoured her.
Meanwhile, her hands were clawing at my clothes, removing everything; nothing could have withstood her desire at that moment. Despite our size difference, she pushed me roughly to the bed and climbed on top of me. Her wet cunt was glistening moisture as she took my hard rod in one hand and started to rub it up and down on the wet slit between her legs. I reached up and placed the flats of my hands in front of her nipples so every time she moved up and forwards the tips of the points ran up and down my palms, causing her to breathe deep and her orgasm to build. She ran the purple head of my glans against her hardening clit, back and forth, faster. I was reluctant to stop her but I so wanted to taste that juice and knew if she carried on in my excited state I would be finished too fast. I pulled her up and let my tongue replace it. My flicking started to bring her over the edge for the first time. Close up I could see her lips, waxed, the tiny hint of browny down just starting to grow back, her whole cunt glistening with running juice. My tongue slid down to her tiny tight hole probing, then back and flicking again on her clit, and bringing her once more to another shuddering climax.
Now it was her turn to take what she wanted, and she moved back as before, plunging her hips down onto me and guiding my full length into her tight pussy. It took some moments as she stretched the walls and guided me in because, although I am average length, my cock is well above average thickness and her tight petite little pussy certainly needed to stretch to fit it, despite the ample lubrication from her excited state. I could feel every moment as her cunt stretched round my cock, then she started to ride me hard taking me deep inside and rocking back and forth so my cock grazed her clit. I matched her rhythm, deeper and faster, our mutual climaxes building, but I held back as she rocked herself to number three.
We changed position for me to take her from behind, she told she me that she loved that, and I was not going to say no to watching my cock disappear between her wonderful cheeks. She slid me back into her wet hole and we positioned ourselves in front of the mirror in the room. The sight of my hard rod disappearing into her and the rocking of her perfect tits in the mirror, as I pumped into her from behind, left me with no option but to let my white load fly into her, just as she collapsed trembling from her next orgasm onto the sheets. We both lay panting, reveling in the moment and the feel of our bodies close.
I know we both wanted more, but deep down we both knew we were supposed to be elsewhere. Perhaps we should have stayed? But then again, if we had, I would not have had the time to deal with all the blue fluff from her mohair jumper that I found all over my suit as I left the hotel....
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