Anticipation - I
It had been months since I had seen him. Three months to beexact, three months of loneliness and frustration of the
emotional and sexual kind. The intensely sexual kind.
Three months of becoming literally a mistress of the art
of masturbation and self-pleasuring. Three months of
experience which I couldn’t wait to share with Brian.
These were the thoughts that filtered through the sleepiness
of my jet-lagged brain as I stared out the tiny fiberglass
window of the plane. Not that there was anything to see but
the fluffy whiteness of clouds, so there was no view to distract
me from my contemplation. And considering the reunion
soon to be at hand, I could think of little else but finally
ending three months worth of gruelling celibacy.
I checked my watch again. Still an hour and a half remaining
in the flight. With a sigh I lowered the window shade and
nestled my head against the pillow I had stuffed between
the seat and the wall of the airplane. My gritty eyelids
inexorably lowered, and I dozed…
He stroked my face and gazed into my eyes as I squirmed underneath
him. I gazed back earnestly, all of the need and desire mirrored
blatantly there for him to see. But still he teased me. Lifting
his hips, he probed my pussy with just his cock head, and
in my sensitized condition, could almost feel the slit
slide like a custom- made groove over my clit. I arched against
him further, seeking to suck him inside of me, needing the
penetration so badly I thought I would die.
Although I knew he wanted it almost as badly as I did, he still
withheld. “Just a second, ” he said, “Need to make sure
you’re wet enough.” Then his mouth was on mine, his tongue
plunging into my mouth aggressively. My eyes were closed,
my head swam, but still I could feel his hand snake down between
our two sweating bodies, inch into my damp muff, and slide
a finger slowly over my clit and down between the cleft of
my slick pussy lips. He pushed his finger inside of me, up
to his bottom knuckle, and wiggled it around, testing the
waters, as his knuckles continued to grind into my hot mound.
“Oh God…” I moaned shakily, “Please…” His hand left
my soaking cunt, and slithered up between our torsos, leaving
a slimy trail up my abdomen. He stopped to cup one heavy breast,
and roughly pinched my nipple. I gasped.
“Please…?” he said.
“Please…” I cleverly repeated. I could take his teasingno longer. My hands raked a trail down his back to his ass,
gripping it fiercely. For once, he obliged me by repositioning
the head of his cock to the entrance of my pussy, nestling
the hot tip between my hotter lips. I tried to pull his hips
into mine, aching to feel the familiar spreading of his
fat prick as it forged into my hole. But although I, to my
credit, am a strong woman, he was still a stronger man. His
buttock cheeks clenched tightly in my straining hands,
and he remained poised just outside my throbbing cunt.
“Please…what?” he urged.
“Please…fuck me now!!” I sobbed, the words tearing fromme. I was never a very vocal person when it came to sex, and
he was never very insistent on hearing me voice my carnal
needs. But this time it seemed he needed to hear me verify
how much I needed him as much as I DID need him: desperately.
Without reply, he crushed his lips down on mine once again,
and the tension of his ass under my hands abruptly released
as he sank down into me. He literally sank. His cock was so
thick, even with my relatively spacious pussy, the first
time he entered me was always a stretch, his penis literally
pushing the walls of my cunt out of the way as it broke new
ground. And the sensation, prolonged all this time, felt
so goddamned good I thought I would faint. Oh, if only I could
have that first thrust, over and over again, every time.
He started slowly, rocking against me, his cock sliding
out and in rhythmically, alternately filling and emptying
my pussy, only to stuff it once more with his considerable
girth again, and the excruciating pleasure of it quickly
brought on the familiar tingle of my impending orgasm.
I always feel my orgasms well in advance, and enjoy considerable
buildup before the release. But once I felt it start, I turned
into a wild woman, clutching and groping at Brian with unchained
fervor, my hips arching up to lock against his, such that
every forceful thrust ground his pelvis into my aching
clit. Which only made me crazier, more desperate.
Brian responded to my frenzy by picking up the pace, no longer
sinking and withdrawing, but slamming and jerking, fucking
me with increasing speed and force. Both of us were out of
control, and strained against each other, grasping each
other as we both approached orgasm. We were two perfectly
orchestrated instruments, playing each other expertly.
My melody: crescendo, crescendo, crescendo…FORTE!!!
I came with a vengeance, my body stiffening, my breath catching
in my throat, only barely audible whimpers of pleasure
a staccato to the rhythm of our bodies. And as I came, my cunt
spasmed forcefully around his pounding prick, squeezing
him, encouraging him, and with a few more grunts and thrusts,
he responded with his harmony: a moan of a deeper timbre,
long, drawn out, his cum blasting hotly inside of me like
a clash of cymbals, loud, then softer, softer, softer…to
fall silent as the symphony wound down to its conclusion.
Our bodies and breathing playing decrescendo, decrescendo,
decrescendo…pianissimo.
It was searingly hot in the room, our bodies covered with
a sheen of perspiration. But after he slowly pulled out
of me, he held me close, plastering me to him, ignoring the
sticky heat of us both.
We shared a langorous moment of silence, then, “I’m going
to miss you.”
I turned to face him, saw the sincerity in his eyes, and kissed
him softly. “I’m going to miss you too. I love you so much…”
“I love you too.”
We cuddled for a few moments longer, then began the painfulprocess of packing…
A jolt of turbulence woke me up. I blinked my eyes hastily,and noticed that I had curled up into the narrow seat, facing
the window. Furthermore, one arm had stolen surreptitiously
into my folded lap, and the heel of one palm was pressed into
the cleft between my legs. I blushed as I remembered about
women not being able to experience orgasm in a dream unless
there is some physical stimulation outside the dream.
I sniffed tentatively, and sure enough, there was the faint
but tangible smell of arousal wafting gently around me.
Oh God.
I lifted my head from the pillow and craned my neck to peek
at the passenger seated next to me, separated by an empty
seat in the triad. The man was youngish, and nice-looking…and
staring intently at me. I tried not to blush furiously.
After all, I didn’t know how much of my activities were visible,
or how much of those activities he had noticed.
I quickly averted my eyes, and began to straighten myself
out. I eased my hand and arm from between my legs, and slowly
untwisted my cramped body. I straightened my hair and patted
down my rumpled clothes, and then half-stood and cleared
my throat, indicating to my seat-mate my need to pass by.
He quickly - almost too quickly - rose from his seat and moved
into the narrow aisle to allow me enough room. I scrambled
awkwardly by, my eyes bashfully downcast, and as I slipped
into the aisle I couldn’t help but notice the disturbance
in his loose pants. Specifically, the sizeable bulge in
his trousers.
I mumbled a brief thank you and hurried down the aisle to
the miniature bathrooms in the rear of the plane. I slipped
into an unoccupied stall, engaged the bolt, and sat down
with a whomp on the toilet seat. Moments later, I was seized
by a fit of uncontrollable giggling, and had to clench my
aching sides as they heaved with my laughter. I don’t know
whether my seat-mate had noticed me masturbating myself
to orgasm as I napped. It was conceivable that he could simply
smell my heat. Brian had often told me that when I was horny,
it was obvious. I almost hoped that he had witnessed me indulging
myself, then I would at least know that he got a good show
for his frustration.
I spent the next few minutes putting myself back in order,
urinating with much relief, and wiping up some extremely
copious juices of another sort from my soaking pussy, adjusting
my clothes, combing my hair, and splashing some cold water
over my face. In short order, I felt human again, calm and
composed, albeit extremely relaxed. I felt good.
I almost whistled as I made my way back to my seat, and was
even able to smile pleasantly at my seat-mate - and at his
still-obvious erection - as I maneuvered myself back into
my seat. I buckled myself in and made myself comfortable
for the duration of the flight, which, by my watch, was now
only a half-hour short of ending.
I finished my flight much as I had started it: by staring
out the window, my thoughts on my impending reunion with
Brian, now only minutes away. The man next to me made no attempt
at communication, which was just as well. As impressive
as his bulge had been, I only had thoughts of Brian as the
plane flared in for its landing. A short taxi later, and
the population of the plane was concertedly collecting
its belongings and filing out into the gate of the airport.
I smiled at my seating partner one last time as I stepped
into line in front of him, and eagerly debarked the plane.
