Chelsea ChooChoo Xmas Flight Floozy

Author's Notes:

This is meant to be one of what will be a series of "one-offs" featuring the titular character Cheslea "Choo-Choo" and her slut-tacular sexual escapades. I have written this one specifically for the winter writing event since I enjoy getting out there and participating with the community. Others will follow as I have ideas of what shenanigans she could get into.

Chelsea, an eighteen-year-old college drop-out from Palletain, is coming home for Christmas. However, Chelsea hates flying. How exactly will she distract herself? And will she fall into old habits?

Thanks as always to my fantastic editor Kenjisato! Vote for him for Most Helpful Editor 2022!!!

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Chelsea Choo-Choo the Christmas Flight Floozy

"Now boarding zone three for Adrian Air Flight 672 to Palletain, please check your boarding passes to confirm your zone right next to your seat number. Thank you, zone three."

Huffing and puffing Chelsea crouched at her waist and put her hands on her knees, as she finally found her gate. It was like the world was spinning around her as she ran full force through Isador International Airport, trying to find her connection to her hometown of Palletain.

It wasn't like she had a short layover, Chelsea's time management skills were just that bad. How could she have known that this airport would be a labyrinth of holiday travelers, gate numbers, stores, Christmas trees, and terminals? It was not as straight of a shot as she had thought, when she sat down at the airport bar an hour ago.

So, here it was, after leveraging her fake ID for a few shots, and a mile-long sprint through three terminals, she felt like collapsing next to the gate queue, just as they called her zone.

"Ma'am, are you on this flight?" The male gate attendant waved eagerly to her, almost hurrying her to board.

"Yes...I... Yes, I am." She struggled with her breathy words.

"Oh great, we are ready for ya, hun."

As the world ceased spinning, Chelsea began to see she was one of three people in Zone 3 boarding this flight. A stuffy-looking lady with a side-swept, can-I-speak-to-your-manager-type hairdo was scanning her boarding pass at the door as she scrunched her nose, pulling her wimp of a husband along behind her. She was bitching about something that a grown woman should have developed a coping mechanism for a decade ago, as they proceeded down the jetway. Mentally, Chelsea hoped that she was far away from that pair, less they smell the alcohol on her breath.

It was Chelsea's goal to make it home for Christmas without incident. It was her first time home in a year for her, and when she had left, it was not on the best of terms. Chelsea had a... reputation, that followed her and brought a level of angst to the family. Despite their judgment of her, she did miss them, and this trip was meant to reconcile some things. The fact she just ran up to her gate after drinking under the pretense of a fake ID wasn't exactly the best start, but she could recover from here.

Taking a deep breath, she sauntered up to the attendant and handed over her boarding pass to the aging man with the walrus mustache. She did her best to look sober, despite the less-than-graceful trip on the non-existent snag in the carpet, leading up to the scanner.

A few beeps later, she was cleared down the jetway.

"Have a wonderful flight, sweetie, Merry Christmas." The wrinkled man handed her back her boarding pass, stealing a look down her abdomen as a halo of skin peaked out around her waist.

"Merry Christmas, handsome!" Chelsea cocked a hip to the side in an overt gesture to be cute, as she gave the attendant a two-fingered salute before stepping down the length of the passage before her.

A brief look over her shoulder confirmed he was fully drinking her in. The shots were certainly catching up with her as she enjoyed the attention.

Chelsea hated flying, hence the reason she started this trip off with a drink. The thought of rising and falling constantly, and the hell it played on her equilibrium, reigned havoc on her stomach. It was less butterflies and more like a squadron of sparrows in her gut. At the door of the plane, a smiling flight attendant directed her with graceful hands down the center aisle towards the cheap-seats.

She gave Chelsea a strange look, more than likely because her face was as white as a sheet. Her eyes were wide as she felt dizzy stumbling down the aisle towards her seat, 20B.

As she tripped along and hit each aisle chair, and occasional passenger, like a ping-pong ball, the small girl noticed how few people were on the plane. It felt like only about two dozen or so, and many of the seats were left unoccupied as she passed rows and rows of emptiness.

Bumping into the snooty bitch she saw at the gate, she received an evil glare like a snake in the bushes being stepped on. Her face became scrunched, and as Chelsea moved on, muttering could be heard about her.

"Go off," Chelsea snorted all too loudly. A 'tsk' and a sharp head turn behind her, came from the subject of her ire.

Ahead, she saw two rather large men, one muscular and bald with tattoos along his arms, and the other fat and bald with a kind face. They were sitting on the aisle and window respectively. Glancing drunkenly at her ticket, she figured that with her luck she was right between them, and after a moment of thought, she felt it, indeed, was her luck.

As lustful thoughts ran through her head, the little devil in Chelsea's gut started to cackle, tickling the nerves in a special place. When she came to the row with the big men and realized it was indeed her own, she didn't hesitate, taking her seat right between them as she squeezed her small body, ass first, in front of the muscular man in the aisle seat.

A normal girl like her, cute, petite, and alone, would have grabbed one of the many empty rows to claim it for herself. No one would have told her to take her middle seat between two large and strange men, the flight attendants certainly wouldn't care. But Chelsea took it anyway, almost like she desired it, and that was because subconsciously, she did.

The muscular man was exactly her type, someone who looked like they could manhandle her, roughly rearrange her guts, and make her cream with a mean scowl. The fat man seemed sweet and was the type to be pretty thankful for what she had to give. Both had their place in Chelsea's sex-food pyramid.

Chelsea was a slut. A notorious slut. At the college she dropped out of rather quickly, she was known as 'Chelsea Choo-Choo' an apt name given for the trains run on her whenever she was given the chance. The proximity to man-meat made her shiver. Though a large part of her reputation in her home of Palletain was because of her promiscuity, she sat down in that middle seat anyway.

Snuggling in the seat, she wasn't shy about bumping arms with the larger and older men. She noticed the greying hair of the hot muscular man's beard. The heat coming off of them was like a drug to her.

They both were ignorant of her character, and more so annoyed that this girl didn't have the grace to find her own row.

"Hi, sorry, Merry Christmas." She cutely shrugged her shoulders as her flirtatious tone surprised them.

"Err, yeah, Merry Christmas." They both muttered, trying not to check her out.

She was cute, and had that going for her, but what unsuspecting stranger would think they were getting anything out of that? Unless they were extremely arrogant. Chelsea liked the unsuspecting strangers the most. An arrogant fool would take her for granted.

"Wait... damn." She grasped the armrests, her neighbors had surrendered so easily as she caught herself in the act. Both men looked at her peculiarly, as she voiced her thoughts out loud. How much more annoying could this girl get?

It was happening again, this was how she gets in trouble each time. She just sluts herself out whenever the chance is given. And coming home for the holidays for the first time, she wanted to come with a better impression, for her parents' sake.

Grasping the armrests, she closed her eyes and tried to think of anything but sex. Dolphins, the latest Sena Lark movie, Coastal Jazz, fun facts from her college Continental History Class, anything to keep her mind off of it.

But all that failed, as the plane began to lurch backward from the gate.

Chelsea let out an audible gasp. Both men on either side of her, looked at her and then at each other, but remained silent. As the plane taxied, her heart raced, thinking of what was about to be.

"Errrrr, ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, seems like it's our lucky day, we are first for takeoff here on our flight to Palletain. Weather is nice, not good beach weather nice, but good Holiday weather nice. Plus it's a bit cold outside. We'll hopefully arrive into Palletain in about two hours if we have a headwind, temperatures there are in the forties..."

Both men made a glance at Chelsea who wore a short, pleated skirt and a white tank top. Neither winter attire that looked warm. Chelsea's aura couldn't get any stranger.

"...we'll be taking off momentarily, and get everyone home for Christmas. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for departure."

This was it... the moment she dreaded. Chelsea white-knuckled the armrests on either side of her, as the plane turned and the engines whined. The whole aircraft lurched forward in such a violent way that Chelsea squinted her eyes and looked visibly disturbed. It was all happening, the lifting feeling as they flew into the air, her whole body tingled and felt flush as they soared.

Chelsea couldn't take it, she needed a distraction. At that moment, she decided to give in to the inevitable.

As they ascended into the air, the men, on her right and on the left, had begun to lean away from her. It was either out of politeness to her personal space, or just aversion to her unusual presence. There was a mild annoyance to her being there, but it was not like either of them had moved away yet. But then again, the fasten seatbelt sign was on, so they could very well have plans to.

To her left, the man with the big shoulders and tattoos arched his back uncomfortably. She needed to work fast if she wanted any sort of distraction to come of this.

"You don't have to worry about me," the small girl, squeezed between two very large men, squeaked, as she smiled at the one on her left. "I don't need much space." She smacked her lips as she said it, looking him up and down like her next meal, as she shifted excitedly in her seat.

They didn't look gay by any means, but the lords knew her radar for that was not finely tuned. As his eyes wandered to her, she caught him taking a peek down her tank top.

Bingo.

Chelsea knew she was validated at that point. Taking a slight peek, she didn't see any rings on fingers, not that it had stopped her before.

The big man to her left felt a bit more at ease and straightened his back, though he still didn't quite look normal. There was a tenseness about him, as he stole glances at the cute teen in 20B.

Looking over to her right, the chubby man there had a nervous expression, unsure if the invitation was for him as well. Chelsea felt a bit of the lift of the airplane and took a deep breath, the blood rushing to her head as she felt a light warmth and dizziness around her.

"You, too. I don't, bite I promise." She nudged him softly with her elbow, and a bright smile. However, a spot of turbulence wiped it off of her face, and her normally pink complexion with spots of freckles, was wiped away with a cold whiteness.

The man on the right obliged, both their shoulders squeezing her small frame in her seat.

"So do you both know each other?" Chelsea tried to break the ice as she took long, deep breaths.

"Yeah, Allen and I, here, went to school together back in the day."

"In Palletain?"

"No, actually in Klarkstown, we just both recently moved to Palletain."

"Oh, that's nice." She squeaked and clenched her eyes shut as her breathing got louder and more nervous with each bump and jerk of the plane.

"Don't like flying?" One asked her, looking concerned, as he stole a look at his friend. Both were being very polite with their girl-facing arms in their laps and allowing her access to the armrest.

"No... how can you tell?" She gulped and smiled, brushing the edges of her skirt she felt a cold draft along her legs, as the air began to flow better through the cabin.

"Sorry folks, we'll be going through a bit of turbulence on our ascent today." The garbled announcement over the PA by the pilot, did Chelsea little to reassure her nerves.

As the plane began to rock some more, dropping through an air pocket, Chelsea's hands clasped the men's arms on either side. Yanking them up, she placed them on the armrest with little resistance on their part, placing her arms atop and intertwining her fingers with each.

"Sorry... I hope you don't mind." She used her big, adorable eyes to plead with them as she tightened the grip of petite fingers. Both men looked chuffed to be of service, nodding and smiling their assurances to her that nothing bad was going to happen.

Chelsea loved the protecting nature of men, nothing turned her on more than that masculine need to look out for the cute, tiny female. Shifting in her seat, she took a sigh of relief as they rode the waves of turbulence upwards. Resting against either of their arms, she didn't hold back her willingness to nuzzle against them, her small breasts grazing their forearms through her thin tank top.

"Thanks, boys... you don't know how much this means to me." She squeezed their hands softly and caressed their thumbs with her own. She milked it for all she could.

"I'm Chelsea by the way," she said, as she laid her dirty-blonde head against the muscular forearm of the man on her left.

"Gregg," he responded with a crack, a bit taken aback by her unabashed friendliness.

"And I'm Allen," the other said, Chelsea rubbing his arm up and down in a massaging motion.

"Do you fly a lot?" Gregg asked, looking down at the girl's dimpled face, as she laid her cheek on his bicep.

"I try not to." She giggled before a sudden drop of the plane and the whine of the engine caused her to squeak.

"What brings you on this one?" Albert laughed, as he patted her arm and rubbed it from her hand to her elbow in an attempt to distract her.

Chelsea smiled, it seemed the feeling was mutual.

"Uh, going home, to see my parents for Christmas." She clenched their hands as the overhead bins rattled.

"Holiday break from college?" Gregg looked around the plane, wondering if anyone could see them intimately holding hands with this girl.

"Heh... no, can't say I am doing that well, I dropped out." Chelsea reflected on her life as a vagabond as of late, living off whatever whim or fancy she had from place to place. She hadn't told her parents about leaving college; eventually, on this visit home, they would find out, but that was a problem for another day.

For right then, this was the life she wanted, and the one she enjoyed, going from place to place and living 'off the land'. Little trysts like these she was about to engage in were just the highlight.

"So, what do you do?" Allen sat forward, looking the girl up and down curiously, wondering what she was about.

Chelsea smiled at him, a suggestiveness to her expression, as he asked such an open-ended question. "A little bit of everything." She squirmed cutely in her seat.

"Oh? That's vague..."

"Curious?" She whipped her head to Gregg, her hair brushing his arm as she smiled up at the much larger man, her neck arched to look him eye to eye.

"Now I am." He leaned forward to look at her. The middle-seat girl sat back, with curious men on either side of her.

"Well." She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Last thing I did was a mall Santa's elf."

"Oh?"

"Ho-ho."

"Yes, That's right." She giggled as they teased her.

"Did you wear the ears?" Allen felt brave enough to pluck at the top of Chelsea's ear, who in turn flirtatiously scowled at him.

"Oh, I look super cute in pointy ears."

"I can't picture it." Gregg seemed to egg her on.

"Yeah, I don't quite believe it." Allen joined in his skepticism.

Chelsea giggled some more, freeing one of her hands to take out her phone from her bag. Playfully, she held the phone close as if she had something naughty to hide in her photo gallery, her eyes peering over her phone case at the curious men to tease them.

A jolt of turbulence caused her to lose the grip on her phone, the unlocked zPhone falling into Allen's lap.

"Oh, let's see." He picked it up slowly, giving her ample opportunity to grab it back if she didn't want him to see.

Chelsea made little effort to retrieve it. "Noooo, give it back." She feigned embarrassment as she held her hands against her blushing cheeks.

"Let's seeeee." Allen took a look at the picture she had up. It was a group photo of several elf girls and Santa in the mall, Chelsea sticking out by far. He turned the photo to Gregg and nodded, impressed.

"You do make a cute elf." Gregg agreed, as he looked at the dramatic pose Chelsea made in the photo, clinging to the lucky mall Santa. The other girls were not even half as alluring.

"Let's see what else." Allen looked to Chelsea to see if she would object before swiping to the next photo. Chelsea simply bit her lip, holding on to Gregg's arm as the plane still rocked.

Magically, the horrible sensation of flight was in the back of her mind.

After a few more photos with Santa, some of which Chelsea stood, VERY, provocatively with Father Christmas, Gregg laughed.

"I bet Santa appreciated his little helper." Gregg's teasing became a little more forward.

Chelsea smiled. He had no idea how far towards the top of the Naughty List she was.

As Allen joined in the teasing, Chelsea reflected on how the older men needed little encouragement to get flirty with her. Although Chelsea usually enjoyed a good chase, the nerves of being on this rocky plane made her appreciate how easy this was coming.

"Let's see what else?" Allen looked at her, again seeking approval, but not moving 'til he heard something definite.

"You have the phone." Chelsea scooted up in her chair and scrunched her nose, as she acted embarrassed and nodded.

Another swipe and a different kind of picture was on the screen. This time, Chelsea was in front of a changing-room mirror with her elf costume, her green skirt with red trim riding a little high as her asscheeks peeked out below.

"Oh my god," Allen blurted out, his eyes wide. Gregg nearly leaned across Chelsea to get a look. Both men lost their senses for a moment, as they lapped up the imagery. Allen quickly handed the phone back to Chelsea, a touch embarrassed.

Chelsea took the phone, admiring how nice her ass looked for a second before tucking the screen close to her chest and blushing.

"Sorry." Allen held his hands up apologetically.

"It's okay." Chelsea laughed at the situation. "I have worse that you didn't see." She gave him a flirtatious glare.

Allen was still red, and Gregg was coughing, a bit stunned at how flirty the girl was getting. Chelsea sensed she may need to slow her approach, though she was yearning to get this going; each time the plane shook, she held on to Gregg's hand harder.

"Deep breaths," Gregg told her, as he patted her hand.

Chelsea wondered if he would be saying that to her in another context soon. She looked at his crotch and hoped he packed as much as she thought he did.

Arching her head up, she looked around the plane. Their row was isolated from the sparse pockets of other passengers. The snuffy lady from earlier and her husband, a half dozen rows up, were the nearest people.