Flying Back Home

Monochrome image of airplane seats in economy class to go with my story about flying back home.

“Thank you for flying with ABC Airlines.”

“Have a nice holiday.”

“Good by Sir, enjoy the conference.”

Lauryn automatically said goodbye to almost all the passengers as they disembarked from the plane. Some didn’t even look at her, and then she kept quiet.

Her mind was pre-occupied. She didn’t want this trip to end. The last 10 days in South Africa had been wonderful, but now she was back on home soil after an overnight flight, and she had to go home.

Home was where the problems of her shaky relationship waited. She had to face Paul. They had to talk. They had to decide whether they wanted to be together for the rest of their lives.

The last passenger left the plane.

Her colleagues were already gathering their belongings to follow the passengers, but Lauryn was in no particular rush. She had another hour before the cleaning crew would show up.

“Come on!” Vivian urged.
“You go ahead. I will be right behind you. I need to get some of my stuff from business class,” she lied.

Lauryn instantly turned around and walked away from her friend. She hated lying to her.

“Are you okay, Lauryn?” Vivian called out after her. Lauryn forced herself to turn around with a smile and assure Vivian she was perfectly fine. Vivian smiled back, turned around, and followed the rest of the crew off the plane.

In business class, Lauryn sat down in one of the luxurious seats. It surprised her to see a small bottle of champagne and a glass on the chair next to her. Impulsively, she picked up both. She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and unscrewed the bottle of champagne. She downed the first glass of champagne, poured a second glass, and took two big gulps.

Lauryn sighed, closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat. She wanted to forget about the world out there; about her relationship problems. Her mind wandered to her time in South Africa, where she had spent a lot of time on the beach, enjoyed the warm summer sun and the company of her colleagues.

Her colleagues.

Or rather, colleague.

Ben, the co-pilot.

She liked him.

Really liked him.

He made her feel alive and sexy. Ben gave her the attention she needed; the attention Paul had stopped given her months ago.

Lauryn only realized her hand was on her crotch when wetness seeped through her pantyhose. She remembered not putting on panties when she got dressed for the flight the day before.

Rubbing herself through the pantyhose, she opened her eyes and gulped down the last of the champagne. The liquid burned inside her and heightened her excitement. Lauryn closed her eyes again and concentrated on the movements of her hand. She pinched her labia together, then stroke them; found her clit through the pantyhose and tried to pinch it too.

Since she couldn’t reach it like she wanted to, she pulled her skirt up around her waist and slipped her hand inside her pantyhose. Her fingers probed her wetness, spread it to her clitoris and back down to her opening again. She moaned softly, grunting when she orgasmed.

“Looks like you needed that.”

Ben leaned against the seat across from her, watching her. Lauryn scrambled to sit up, pull down her skirt and hide the champagne bottle and glass, all at the same time. She blushed bright red and waited for Ben to reprimand her.

“No need to stop, it’s a treat watching you,” the co-pilot said.

Lauryn still didn’t look at him. He pulled her to her feet and raised her face to him with his finger under her chin. Her heart beat in her throat as his face moved closer. He stopped, waiting to see if she would turn her face away.

She didn’t.

When they kissed, his hands squeezed her bottom, and simultaneously he pulled up her skirt. Lauryn didn’t stop him. Encouraged, he pushed her pantyhose down. She kissed him harder, clearly encouraging him.

Ben pulled away and swung Lauryn around, pushing her to her knees on a seat, and roughly entered her from behind. Lauryn had no idea when he had unzipped himself, but she didn’t care.

It had been months since a man fucked her.

Really fucked her.

She clung to the back of the seat, her back arched, her legs spread to accommodate Ben’s thrusts. He pounded her hard and held onto her hips to balance himself. The orgasmic pulsing of her muscles also pushed Ben over the edge.

“I will start in the front,” a voice came from the middle of the plane, on the other side of the closed curtain, separating business from economy class.

The cleaner looked surprised when he saw them in seats on opposite sides of the aisle. They both looked flushed and guilty, even though they tried to act normal. He continued to the first row of business class and just smiled, wondering what they had been up to before he appeared.

If only he knew…

Note: I wrote this story in June 2014 for the Wicked Wednesday prompt: What story can you come up with this premise: A flight attendant drinking champagne in the first class.

© Rebel’s Notes
Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

13 thoughts on “Flying Back Home

  1. Come fly with me indeed! Lovely, sexy little story. I’m left wondering what stories the seats on airplanes would tell if they could. Just how many of them have been “christened”, do you think? 🙂 Jane xxx

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