1. Flying the friendly skies...


    Date: 7/10/2015, Categories: Masturbation, Author: brwnsugr, Rating: 12, Source: LushStories

    for clues as they wandered down where his own hand was stroking a very hard object. I was impressed. He was very well endowed. I glanced to make sure the coast was clear, and began to rub it with my hand. And he took his own hands away to let me. I helped him unzip, very cautiously, so that I could slide my hand into those jeans and give his now taut balls a squeeze. He bit his lip. This wasn’t going to take long. But to make it even more worth his while, I leaned to murmur, “Touch me.” His breath caught. I guided his hand to my blanket. He found his way under. Up my short, hiked up skirt, to the wet crotch of my thong. He shivered. So did I. And we both smiled as our slippery fingers explored. I rubbed pre-cum playfully around the swollen head of his penis and, just to tease him, licked a bit off my finger before returning to the business of driving him crazy. He was too aroused to stroke me properly, but that aroused me even so. I watched his color change, his body tense, as I rubbed and tugged, carefully but constantly, beneath his blanket. And then he surprised me. Found a way around the tiny strip of fabric between my legs and began to rub me precisely the way I would have done it myself. My nipples hardened. He was staring now, at my breasts. Watching me begin to enjoy it as much as he was. I bit my lip—men like that—and opened my legs more. He started to slide his finger in and out of me in a way that stroked my clit as if it were a little cock going in and ...
    out of me. I squeezed his balls as I felt myself on the verge of cumming. He grabbed my hand with his free one to hold my hand and help me tug the way he wanted. But my clit was throbbing. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I pushed back against the seat, trying not to move my hips, my inner walls closing against his probing finger rhythmically. And then he gasped, ever so softly, and I felt cum spurt into my palm, through my fingers and the pulsing between my legs grew into a lovely, deep, pulsating orgasm much stronger than I expected. We rested together for a moment. Grateful for the loud engines, ear buds and headphones that had kept our secret safe. And that the family was still sleeping. The wife snoring slightly, in the seats in front of us. And then I gave him a drowsy smile, and a very gentle pat on the cock and murmured, “ Diaper bag.” He frowned. And then caught on. Wipes . Of course. Later, in Chicago, when I reached to grab my own bag from the luggage carousel, he grabbed it first. And set it down in front of me with a little grateful smile. “Well, there goes one of ours, ” the wife said, with a smirk. I smiled and headed off. With a smile of my own. We’d exchanged numbers. Addresses. And even before we’d gotten to Baggage Claim, I’d felt my cell buzz. And checked my messages, and found: “The friendly skies for sure. Drinks? When and where?” And I had sent back, “My place. Bring the wipes.” Enjoying the little ache between my thighs as I trudged along, typing.
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