It was going to be a long flight and I wasn't tired. In fact, I was a bit annoyed, having just left home and totally ticked that my husband didn't take me to the airport and didn't even kiss me goodbye...things aren’t so good at home. In fact, I often have visions of leaving him…or killing him!
I checked through the gate without much of a delay and boarded the plane on time. Like most flights, the people around me were a mixed bag…families, singles, young and old. Normally, I get some non-descript ordinary person sitting next to me. I am not one for much conversation and since this was a night flight, I actually PLANNED on not even saying hello to whoever sat next to me.
Then he sits down next to me…OMG.
As much as I tried NOT to pay attention, it was impossible not to stare at the man who sat next to me….Mr. Charm. He was young, handsome, chiseled, strong, firm and a smile that could melt the anger and resentment of anyone.
What a dish. If only...No. I shouldn't think those things. I should catch some sleep like I planned. As much as I tried to settle in and sleep, I couldn’t. Instantly these crazy, ridiculous fantasies explode into my head. What was wrong with me?! I don’t ever have fantasies about strangers! This is stupid…Close your eyes, Chris. Get some sleep.
It doesn’t work.
He notices I am fitful and starts the conversation with that wry little smile that nearly make me instantly wet. We chat a little and he is so full of life and happiness (unlike Mr. Cynical at home). He flirts a little bit in the conversation, but I brush it off. The more we talk, the more I am captivated by that smile and those tightly toned biceps. Why am I having these thoughts?! It is SO wrong.
How can a 20-something man be so gracious and interested in me? He asks me about my life, my goals and dreams. I have never sat so close to someone with so much…I don't know…charisma. When he asks a question about me it doesn't come off as conversational or casual. When he asks, the blue-steel eyes of his seem to pierce right through the normal defenses we put up talking to strangers. The connection is instant and unmistakable. Weird.
I ask him about his home, his life, and what he is doing. I figured he was a personal trainer or beach bum. "Consultant", he replies. Oh, one of those. "Telling people what they already know and charging them for doing it," I blurt out loud. He laughs with a burst of happiness, "Exactly! Those non-profits waste so much money and every time I save them a few million here or there, sure I get paid a great fee, but I am also reminded of all the REAL good I am doing! When the Cystic Fibrosis charity reduced their overhead by over $2 million last year, that money went straight into more research. I feel as though I donated $2 million."
I instantly adored this guy.
When the conversation drew to a close, we seemed to know everything about each other, including little bits of our past. What tantalized me the most was his energy and enthusiasm for the future. He was hypnotic. He was bright. He was…oh…incredibly sexy.
The conversation ended casually and naturally and I thought that I drifted off to sleep. The transition to dreamland was fuzzy because I was STILL in my seat sleeping! Normally when I dream I am in high school and freaking out because I didn’t study for a test. This dream was so real! Maybe it wasn’t a dream at all? Perhaps the 2 cocktails, red-eye flight and connection with this guy put me in a new zone. I have no idea. My head slowly falls onto his shoulder, he doesn't lift it or shrug it off, but gently turns my head to face his and give me the softest, sweetest kiss in the world.
I don't resist.
We start making out! Is it a dream or is it real? His hand slides across my thigh and I feel the wetness start to flow inside my body. The kissing becomes more passionate and the breathing a little heavier. We readjust the blanket so my legs slowly slide apart. His hand doesn't go up my thigh, but he keeps teasing me with his caress. I SO want him to finger me, but he won't do it.
His kissing stops and he looks into my eyes...No...He looks into my lustful heart, locks onto my eyes, stares, saying nothing, just stares and cracks that dreamy smile. We both want more and don't know if we should risk a trip to the washroom in back of the plane. My nervousness is mostly subsided because I still don't know if this is a dream or reality.
We kiss some more and wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me close to his body. The heat and tingle of my inside is screaming for him to touch me. His hand gently glides up my leg and he deftly moves around my panties and stimulates my clit. OMG. This is SO WRONG! Why does it feel SO good? I haven't had and orgasm in over 3 years! I am about to climax and he stops...I grab his hand and whisper in his ear, "Start what you finished, buster."
He does some double finger stimulation and somehow manages to roll one finger around my clit while pressing on my G spot with another. I shudder, moan softly and have the longest, deepest orgasm of my life. I fear the noises I am making will wake the other passengers or alert the flight attendant. I can't control myself. The fantasy is real! I am totally into this guy and the feelings he has awakened inside of my heart and my body.
OMG...it rolls into a second orgasm and I want to grab his cock and have him slam it inside of my body. The craving is uncontrollable. As I roll down from the 2nd orgasm, I reach for his package and he holds my hand, kisses my ear and whispers, "This is only for you." I think to myself, "Well, THAT is for me, too!" and move my hand to his pants. He resists and holds onto my hand, preventing me from unzipping his pants. I read his body language, stop my advance to his love stick and enjoy the afterglow of my double orgasm. His firm strong arm still gently lying across my body, light as a feather, but strong enough to hurl an anvil.
What have I done? Why don't I feel guilty? Is this a dream or did it really happen? I don't have feelings of confusion, just curiosity and warmth. The warmth of a chance encounter with a guy who has the body of a Chippendale dancer and a George Clooney smile and charm....Wow.
A few minutes later, I enter that realm of sleep/awake where you don't know what is real or what isn't. Did I have a wet dream? Did we actually do it? Did I join the mile high club? My blanket is still on me, I am definitely wet. I turn my head to look at this man and he is asleep...fast asleep. Oh...must have been a dream.
After I relax, adjust myself and start to pick up a magazine, I steal another glance at him and see that half-crooked smile appear across his lips...hmmm.
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