Dating : Just Plane Sex

I took the Friday afternoon off and decided to pack light for an expensive weekend that I thought I deserved after being stood up big time by a douchebag. There were a lot of extra controls at the airport because of coronavirus, and with a mask on, I boarded the business class cabin for the late afternoon flight. I was following the flight attendant as she led me to my seat when a foot stuck out right in front of me in the middle of the aisle. I stopped in my tracks and looked at the owner of the foot.

The owner of the eyes that were looking up at me was unmistakable. I gazed in Sam’s blue eyes with utter discontent, and then looked at the pretty lady who was sitting beside him.

“Excuse me,” I said loudly through my black mask with as much coldness as I could muster, “your foot is in my way.”

“I’m sorry.”

He moved his foot away from the aisle and winked at me. I rolled my eyes at him and proceeded to follow the flight attendant to my seat which was at the end of the cabin.

I settled down reading the in-flight magazines while up in the sky and after skipping some free snacks, I ordered myself a glass of whisky to help me relax. I took two sips from my glass and decided to get up from my seat but I was suddenly blocked, for the second time, by a man standing in the aisle.

Still with my mask on, I sat back down again and looked up at him.

“What the fuck now?” I said.

“I’m sorry, I am. I’m sorry,” he said, half of his face also covered by a mask.

“Well, fine. You’re forgiven, now get out of my way, I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, getting up right in front of him. He didn’t move. He just stood there, his body so close to mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from him. He moved to his side and let me pass to walk just two rows behind my own seat towards the WC.

As soon as I had entered it, I tried closing the sliding door but Sam was holding it firmly with his hand.

I just stared at him.

“I need this, please,” said he, his low voice muffled by the mask. I let him slide past me, with him closing the door behind him and locking it shut.

He started kissing my neck, and then he stopped and started chuckling silently. He was still wearing a mask. He looked at me intently and moved my mask away from my face after his and bent down to lick my neck, biting me. I put my arms around him, embracing him. My body was hungry for his touch, my pussy burning with lust for him; and I hated myself for that.

“How did you even know it was me?” I asked breathlessly as I enjoyed the wet kisses he was giving me.

“Your dress…and your body,” he paused to speak, “it’s unmistakable.”

In the small space of the bathroom, he closed the toilet seat and asked me to turn around. He lifted my dress hurriedly and forced my underwear down to my knees.

“This is dirty, I’m not kneeling on this,” I said, looking below me after he had ordered me to kneel down on the toilet seat. He took off his jacket and laid it flat on the seat. He unzipped his trousers and underwear which he let fall down carelessly to his feet.

“Now do it, please,” he begged, as all the while his hand roamed inside of my dress, clutching my breasts. As I knelt down, I could feel the desperation in his voice, the way he was pulling my body onto him, his hard cock right outside my bare ass. I was feeling confused — full of conflicting emotions of wanting him so badly and at the same time despising him.

“I’m angry with you,” I whispered, resting the back of my head on his shoulder, surrendering myself to him as I clutched his neck, caressing his hair from behind while he licked my ear. “I’m fucking angry with you, I mean it.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I mean it,” whispered Sam in my ear. He had one hand clutching my body tightly to him, and the other one was massaging my clit vigorously with two fingers. I was already dripping wet.

With his body pressed behind me making me bend forward, his fingers reached for my eager wet hole and slid them inside like a hook. They went in and out of me, his fingers forcefully hitting my g-spot so I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip, trying not to make any sound. All the while his hips were rocking behind me, his hard cock nestled in between my butt crack, rubbing against my soft skin.

He was finger-fucking me hard, hitting my pleasure points so good I thought I’d cum on his fingers and I wanted him to stop; all I wanted right at that very moment was to have him bury his hard cock deep in my begging cunt. He took his fingers out of me abruptly, and with one swift move, he guided his cock right outside my entrance and penetrated my slippery pussy, jamming it as deep as he could so that I moaned loudly.

He immediately lifted his fingers and he made me suck them . They were wet with my own juice. I smelled my scent on his fingers, licking my slippery wetness off him and I loved it, as he made them go in and out of my mouth at the same motion of his cock hammering my pussy.

“You body…god, this…” he said, though he couldn’t finish his sentences, breathing heavily beside my face. I was breathing through my mouth, his fingers still dangling loosely inside it, and I played with it with my tongue like a dirty little slut.

With his other hand, he lifted my dress high up to my chest, exposing my bare breasts and tilting me upward as he moved the fingers from my mouth down to my neck. He made me look right in front of me in the wide mirror as he fucked me raw. I felt dirty and at the same time excited being fucked by him. I watched him as he moved his body behind me, savagely thrusting his cock hard into my cunt, his hand possessively clutching my neck, making me stare at his unblinking eyes on the mirror; his thin, pink lips slightly opened.

Looking straight at him as he pounded his cock inside my tightening pussy, I felt something in me that I wanted to dismiss. I didn’t want to feel it. I just wanted to lust over him, have more of his cock, I told myself. I only wanted him to keep on fucking me, make me cum — that was his job — and he was going to give it to me each time I wanted it.

He released his grasp of my breasts as he went on heaving himself in and out of my succulent hole, sliding his hand on my flat tummy and onto my clit again. He began rubbing it, moist from my juices. I could feel myself at the edge of that explosive feeling of squeezing the cum out of him.

“Cum for me, baby…” he whispered silently, looking me straight in the eye in the mirror as he slid his shaft out of me with just the tip anchored inside me, sliding it slowly just how he knew I liked it. “Cum, darling. I’m gonna cum inside you.”

“Yes, fuck me harder now, come on,” I begged him, as I reached for his face and caressed it as he pushed his cock deeper inside me and began aggressively hitting me harder with it. I immediately felt that toe-curling eruption. Heat surged from the depths of my pussy and it began wrapping his moving hard cock tighter, pulsating, swallowing his dick whole.

I felt his shaft throbbing, his movements quicker. The sound of his grunting, of his breath in my ear, of his hips hitting my bare ass was deafening in such a tight, enclosed space. I watched him as his body started jerking behind me. He pressed his cock deep one more time and I felt that warm ejaculation slipping out of my cunt as he moved slower, until his cock slipped out of me completely and with it, cum dripped from my cunt and onto my thigh.

“Good girl,” he said, carefully moving away from me to grab a couple of tissues and started wiping my still-sensitive pussy and thigh with it. He grabbed some more to clean the cum that had dripped on his own jacket.

My knees were sore from kneeling down on the hard toilet seat, just as much as my pussy was from his hammering. He bent down on me from behind and kissed my cheek.

I did not speak. I did not know what to feel.

He tidied up and dressed himself to his previously immaculate state and got out of the bathroom before me without saying a word. I waited a couple of minutes before I went back to my own seat. There, under my whisky glass, was a folded paper. I finished my whisky before I unfolded the paper to read it.

‘My grandmother died yesterday. Me and my cousin are going to the funeral in Somerset and will stay for a week or two with the fam. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to bother you with it. You’re my girl. I promise I’ll make it up to you. xxx’

I folded the note again with a smile and tucked it under the empty whisky glass.

I’m his girl…

I thought to myself, feeling a little elated — comforted.

That’s nice.