Patrice in Flight

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Model, Patrice, explores the boundaries of her sexuality.
1.5k words
4.16
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NeoGeo1
NeoGeo1
3 Followers

The first installment of a series chronicling young Patrice's adventures as she explores the world of modeling and her own blossoming sexuality. Patrice is real. This is a combination of her fantasies, my fantasies, and her actual experiences.

Patrice surveyed the large hairy man asleep in the aisle seat. Thank God they were separated by an empty seat between them. Two hours out of San Francisco he had mercifully given up flirting with her and asked the flight attendant for a pillow and blanket. Patrice did the same. It was after midnight.

The full moon above cast a fairyland glow over the bed of billowing white clouds floating below them. It was a glorious sight. She'd never seen anything like it. A shiver of excitement raced up her spine. Fuck sleep! She was headed to New York! New York City! "The Big Apple"! And, Luke! The man of her dreams. The object of her fantasies was waiting there. Waiting to sweep her off her feet.

No more phone sex. No more tantalizing sexting. Finally she would cast her eyes on that perfectly sculpted face, gaze deep into those intense brown eyes, run her hands over that stripped bare, rock hard body. And ride that massive cock til she popped with pleasure. Fuck! She could already feel a puddle in her panties.

Ever since they'd met on-line, several months ago, she'd been longing for this. Not really believing it would happen. Until now, she'd never been past Nevada, much less to the East Coast. Then Luke had discovered her. With thousands of models to choose from, all over the country, he had chosen her. As time went on, and their relationship developed, he demanded that he meet her. That was his way. He would be her master. She would be his slave.

Luke offered her the chance to show her modeling portfolio to the best agencies in the world's fashion mecca. It was an opportunity she had looked forward to all of her 19 years. Now she was on her way, and Luke would show her the ropes. So to speak.

Peering out at the bed of wind blown clouds below, she imagined the shape of a couple wrapped in a tight embrace, undulating, shifting bodies, fucking. She pulled her phone from her purse and found the photos of Luke on Instagram. He was a young god. He posed naked, in silhouette, his face hidden in shadow, his cock erect. She knew he had been thinking of her when he took that picture. Only her. She shook her head to clear it. She'd been obsessing over Luke for way too long.

In spite of her excitement she knew she had better get some rest. So, she pulled the blanket up to cover herself and nestled her head against the pillow, propped against the window. She lay there with her eyes closed... sleep... must sleep... sleep... hopeless... sleep... tick, tick, tick. Time crawled by. One eye popped open, then the other. She squirmed in her seat. She sat up and peeked over the back of her seat. Not a flight attendant in sight. Not even a reading light to be seen! Everyone in the entire fucking plane was asleep but her! Shit!

She slumped back in her seat. She wished she could just light up a blunt. Or pop a couple of sleeping pills. That would do the trick. Then a naughty thought popped into her head. Something she did at home, that always seemed to work, when she couldn't get to sleep. A wicked little smile came to her lips. This would be fun. She glanced over at her seat partner, just to make sure. His snorts told her that he was still sound asleep.

With the blanket safely covering her she reached down and lightly ran her fingers up and down her bare thighs beneath her short skirt. The feeling thrilled her. She spread her legs slightly, her fingers moving ever closer to the delicate flesh where the thin cloth of her thong panties barely covered her mons. Moving her hands slowly, her fingers barely touching her skin, tickling, so close to her quickly responding pussy lips. She felt her nipples beginning to press against the silken fabric of her bra.

Careful not to disturb her seatmate, or let her blanket fall, she slowly untied the loose knot that held the front of her short sleeve crop top closed. Her ample breasts spilled over her white lace bra. She had worn this top just for Luke. She knew it made him hard seeing her in it. Gently she kneaded her tits beneath the bra, imagining the hot breath and rough hands of her lover. She brushed her hands over her nipples, tweeked them a bit with her finger tips. She shivered. God, she was horny. Knowing she shouldn't, she lifted her bra and her firm young tits fell free.

Patrice was breathing hard now, her heart thumping. Her excitement was intoxicating. The fucking bra was so uncomfortable. She reached back and undid the clasp, shrugged off the straps, and slipped it out from beneath her blouse, stuffing it into her purse.

Aware of her surroundings, she sat quietly for a few moments to be sure no one had noticed her activity. All was quiet. Now, determined, she slowly arched her back, lifted her ass off the seat, eased off her panties, and deposited them in the purse next to her bra.

She lay back now, feeling depraved and horny as hell. She felt incredibly alive, totally aware that she was pretty much naked beneath the thin wool blanket. She was surrounded by 250 people, barely wearing her white cotton crop top, and a short "Catholic school girl" plaid skirt, bunched up around her waist.

She felt free now. Free to run wicked fingers over her entire body, unencumbered. The thrill of being naked in such a public place made her pussy drip with excitement. With her left hand she stroked her body, running her hand up her thighs to her breasts. With the other hand she slipped a finger between the lips of her tight little pussy, separating the satin folds of flesh. As her juices bathed her finger it slid in easier . . . in and out more quickly . . . sliding, sliding, slowly, in, then out . . . she opened her legs further. Her groin muscles stretched tight. Using her juice-soaked finger she lubricated the slick inner walls of her enflamed vagina. All the time playfully teasing her taut little clit. In desperate need she plunged two fingers deep inside her pussy, then again, deeper still. Her hips bucked involuntarily at the sudden fucking pleasure of two hard fingers filling her tight cunt.

Feeling brazen now she closed her eyes, flashing on memories of Luke's videos, jerking off for her. Un-noticed, her blanket slid down until her bare breasts were bathed in moonlight. Her nipples stood straight up, pink and proud. In the moonlight the contrast of her milky white breasts against her tan skin was startling. She felt a gentle breeze from the air nozzle above tickle her exposed flesh. She opened her eyes and looked down, uncaring now, wanting to get caught. She thrilled with excitement and careless pride. Once, her sister, jealous of Patrice's perfectly formed breasts, told her that she had "porn star boobs". "Fucking right!", Patrice thought.

Patrice cupped one breast and rolled the nipple in tiny circles with her thumb. Fucking herself hard with her other hand, she caught herself beginning to moan. The blanket fell to the floor. She tugged her nipple, then yanked it hard. She was on the edge. Pumping herself with her left hand, she reached down with her right and found her burning pink clit with the tip of her middle finger. Luke's tongue! Pressing, flicking her clit. His cock banging harder and harder against her hot sex, pounding deep into her throbbing wet pussy! She rubbed her rigid, white hot, nubbin furiously, stifling her own squeals of delight.

The aroma of her pungent sex filled the air. She was drugged with pleasure by her own scent.

She arched her back as waves of ecstasy wracked her body. She imagined Luke's cum blasting out of his pulsing cock, splashing her lips, splattering onto her belly. Her body shook in orgasmic spasms as she imagined grasping his softening dick and licking it clean.

"Miss? . . . Pardon me miss?", whispered the flight attendant, from over her shoulder.

"Oh, fuck!" gasped Patrice, scrambling to find something to cover herself. Her body still convulsing, twitching with orgasmic pleasure, involuntarily.

"We'll be serving breakfast soon. I thought you might like to freshen up first", she whispered, with a wink.

"God. I'm so embarrassed.", Patrice mumbled quietly, not daring to look the flight attendant in the eye.

"Oh, pshaw, honey.", replied the attendant. "That was the most spectacular sight I've seen in the last ten million miles. You're welcome on my flight any time!"

NeoGeo1
NeoGeo1
3 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousover 10 years ago

Simple, well written and best of all, believable. Looking forwarded to more of Patrice.

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