Flight 868 to LGA

One of my favorite things in the world is making men hard. I love a hard, swollen, red cock. I love when I sit on a guy's lap and his cock presses against his pants, and into my soft ass. When he presses against me, makes me breathe harder as his cock runs pushes into the small of my back. It gets me wet, makes my clit swell. It makes me want to fuck immediately.
The other day when I was flying back from California there was a guy sitting across the aisle from me. He was slight with glasses, and a face which just blared out "submissive" to anyone who would read it.
I love tease and denial. I love the power of making someone want something so singularly that they can't focus, and then refusing to allow them to return to their lives. Making them strain without release, to want without receiving.
We had hours on the plane just feet apart, but he noticed me before I even got on the plane. When I see someone struggling so hard not to notice me, I make sure to entertain them. I make sure that I'm the only thing they will see.
I was wearing a short green dress, soft material which fell well with buttons up the front. She hem line, long neck line. And, of course, boots. When I saw him sitting there, nervous and excited as I approached, I was practically gleeful. I knew exactly how I was going to pass the time.
Getting to my seat I bent and twisted to stow my bag. I bent over, my ass just barely grazing his arm. I apologized for bumping him, and he nodded in warm reception.
When seated, I undid the top button of my dress, letting the pink and white of my bra skim over the top of my dress. I leaned over, fore arm pressing the soft flesh of my tits up, to get a better view out of his side of the plane.
I watched as he shifted in his seat, and imagined his cock starting to swell. I imagined it pushing against the zipper in his khakis - pants which are never so kind as to hide a cock. I imagined his shifting to hide it from me, feeling his humiliation swell right along with the head.
I sat back to give him a break, and when I put my head back against the seat, out of the corner of my eye I saw the tell-tale sign of his excitement. He reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants, moving it back and forth into a comfortable position.
I smiled.
I nodded off for a time, letting him be, letting his cock relax and soften once again. It isn't much fun to just turn someone on and be done. It takes patience, and we had the next five hours to play, whether he liked it or not.
When I awoke I noticed my dress had slipped down a bit further, a full inch or so of the bright cotton pink cup exposed, and then shoulder having slipped down just enough to reveal a strap.
I shifted as I woke, clearing my throat, and rustling enough for him to know I was up. He immediately perked to attention, and openly turned his head to look.
I caught his eye just as I was shifting my clothes back into place, giving him another flash of cleavage and bra along with a long, full smile.
He notices, and immediately turns a soft shade of warm pink. I adjust my dress, and watch him shift again, sensing his frustration with his own body.
As he shifts in his seat, so do I, in slow serpentine rolls and subtle stretches. When someone asks to get by me and use the bathroom, I stand impossibly close to him, my ass right at eye level. When she leaves, I adjust the bag which is under the seat in front of me and bend over, letting him stare at my ass, letting him imagine grabbing it in his hands and fucking me right there on the plane. Pulling my dress up, panties down, and shoving his swollen cock into my pussy and ass.
But instead, I sit back down, unfucked.
I watch him shift his cock again, and place a tell-tale magazine over the bulge. He keeps shifting in his seat, and I take the opportunity to move more, to lean towards him to reach for something, to squirm in my seat, to smile at him more. He is blushing every now and then - I imagine when it twitches. He shifts more often, when it strains.
I finally make the move which I hope will move to him to action. I pull my foot up to my ass, leaning it against the arm rest and opening my legs. It's incredibly comfortable, and lets my dress slide back further and further so he can see my tanned thighs all the way to my ass. The inside of my thighs is, despite years of slaps and paddles, tender and vulnerable.
He's watching. I can feel his eyes caress my skin. I can sense his gaze as it moves over my inner thighs, and opens them further. His sight pulls back my dress and explores the inner folds of my panties, my cunt.
I watch it all happen in slow motion, as does he. He does not hide his erection any longer and shifts, lacking in both subtlety and dignity. I finally smile at him, a knowing smile which says "Thanks, you made my day."
He blushes red to purple, and adjusts one more time. He stares straight ahead, and I lose myself in a book, counting the long minutes before I get exactly what I want.
It takes three and a half minutes of internal debating and turning to see the bathroom line before he can't wait any longer.
He stands abruptly, taking advantage of the lack of line, and the long since absence of a drink cart to move to the bathroom, and I know exactly what happens once inside.
I imagine him pulling out his cock, and stroking it once, hard, just to relieve some of the built up pain and tension. From then it is a slower experience. He can take his time once his balls no longer squeeze themselves in want. He strokes his shaft slowly, teasingly, knowing that it can't go on for very long.
His other hand lowers to tighten around his balls, and he grunts he slightly in the back of his throat. He tugs them, rolling them just slightly in a flexing palm as his other hand squeezes the head of his swollen cock. Precum oozes out over his fingers as he squeezes. He pulls the shaft slowly, finishing with a final squeeze on the head. He can feel his own cock pulse in time with the heartbeat which rings on in his ears.
He continues to pump, remembering my thighs opening, blossoming like a flower shrouded in green cotton. He remembers girls he fucked in college, in high school, girls he wanted to fuck in middle school as he draws out his orgasm. It is a long flight, he has time to kill. He leans back against the sink and starts to stroke faster.
The seat belt sign pings on, and the captain gives mumbled announcements about possible turbulence ahead. I smile, knowing he is in there. I look back, making sure he is not returning, but he has time.
He thinks about pulling that green dress up farther, imagines the black lace panties I have underneath coming down, down to reveal a moist slit and wanton hole. He imagines plunging into that hole, and strokes faster, his precum spilling out to lacquer his hard cock, shiny and swollen in his hand.
He pumps harder as the plane trembles. As his feet become unsteady, he struggles to pump harder. He fights his own patience and jerks harder. He imagines fucking faster, slipping his cock into a dripping cunt. He fist grips and cum begins to swell higher in his balls.
He pumps faster as the plane jerks and he jerks forward with it, pulsing into his hand. He groans louder, pumping it faster. His cock gets harder in his hard, straining upward as he strokes faster. He strokes with the veracity he hasn't remembered having since his teen years. There is the urgency he hasn't needed since there were time limits to jerking off alone.
The seat belt sign rings again, and the turbulence gets more aggressive. He pumps harder, feeling himself swelling, growing warmer, harder, needing to cum all over this little fucking bathroom.
He groans again, louder, biting his lip as to not make anymore noise and arouse the suspicions of the flight attendants. He jerks forward again.
He steadiest himself one more time, biting his lip and drags his hand long and hard over his shaft, once, twice, three more time before he finally explodes, shooting him cum in jerks and waves over the wall of the tiny bathroom. It spills over his hand. It runs down, dripping slow and fast.
He zips up, breathing heavy, adjusting his glasses one more time before exiting the bathroom. He rejoins me in the seat across the aisle. I smile at him as he returns and the plane shakes once more, violently.
"Just in time."
He grunts in response.