It’s a long flight.
The captain already turned off the seat belt sign, but no one is moving.
It’s 12 am. People are sleeping.
The lights are dimmed. The flight attendant is in the back fidgeting with her shoes, evidence of a long day. All we hear are the vibrations from the engines. Somehow they are soothing, peaceful almost. You’re sitting against the window, leaning your head, gazing at the moon in plain sight. I’m watching a movie.
The world is quiet. We are quiet. Each in our own little world.
My hand is already on your thigh since I’ve grown to claim it. Your hand is over mine, our fingers entangled in each other. A position that I realized long ago was our natural state. Some people hold hands to connect two separate links. We hold hands because together we are the link. Not two pieces completing a puzzle in the grandeur of life. But the same piece being restored. We are not two sides to the same coin, we are the coin. We are not thunder and lightning, we are the storm. We are not the sand and ocean, we are nature. We are not you and I, we are us. We are not one hand holding the other, we are one skin finding the rest of it. This is our normal. Together we are the normal. Apart, we are just electricity constantly creating static and disruption until we are connected again.
Minutes pass and still we are in our own separate worlds. You’re wearing a comfortable dress. Black. Your body turns into the human furnace that you are, so you lift your dress to expose your skin. You fold one leg in and get comfortable as the tingling in my hand distracts me from my movie, having found your skin to touch.
I look at you, and you laugh, playing it off like you’re daring me, thinking I would never.
I take off my headphones, but leave my hand where it is. I don’t want to move it. Not away from you at least. Your left hand lets go of mine, and reaches to touch my neck. You run your nails along my skin scratching the surface, sending shivers throughout my body. While the other holds your head as you rest against it. You’re smiling. Like a coy/cocky smile. It’s sexy. You try to intrigue me, effortlessly succeeding. You know what happens next.
I move my hand slowly up your thigh towards your lace thong. You open your mouth just a little bit, releasing a whispered breath. I smirk, knowing exactly what I want to do to you.
You’re not smiling anymore. It’s different now. You’re craving me. I can feel you wet already through the fabric wrapped between my fingers. You clench your legs, locking me in place, not letting me move. I shift closer to you, staring directly into your eyes. With my left hand planted right where I want it, I slide my right hand past your cheek, to the back of your neck and pull your lips to mine. My yearning expressed in the slow roughness of the confined moans we have to keep between us.
My tongue teases yours back and forth, begging for the air trapped in each other’s lungs. You part your legs slowly, releasing back to me your need to get fucked. Not too hard. You don’t want to scream. Oh how I wish I could hear you scream.
I can’t resist when you moan into my ear and ask me to fuck you.
I slide your thong to the side and at first I marvel in how wet you are for me. My fingers crave every inch of you. I pull back from the kiss and make you watch me lick my fingers. You grab my face with both hands and kiss me with a sense of urgency no one around us can feel. The savage in me comes out as I slip my left thumb inside you, putting the right amount of pressure in a body I have memorized. You tighten at the sudden surprise and release slowly while moaning into my neck. I slide in and out of you slowly at first, stimulating every inch of you. Making sure you pulsate not only through your wet cunt, but through your skin, your stomach, your nipples. I take one that has already made a dent through the cloth of your dress, and hold it softly between my teeth as I run my tongue against it, teasing it, making it hard in my mouth.
Unable to resist pleasing all of you, I grab your other nipple until it also gets hard in my mouth. You want to look around, make sure no one is watching this silent explosion between us. No one is. You close your eyes, you want to come for me, you want to explode for me.
My fingers inside you. My right hand over your mouth to keep your moans as low as possible while you bite and suck on my fingers. Your nipples in my mouth getting hard, causing you to come so much as you orgasm from me fucking you so hard and so slow.
When you finish for me, I lean down to taste everything that’s mine between your legs. I can’t stay there long. You pull me up when you see someone get up.
You fix yourself and sit back straight. You’re trying to cover your tracks. But I smile because you can’t. Not only are you completely flushed and panting, but all of you is still all over my fingers. The ones I’m licking now as he walks past me.