Going Home

I knew the look. I love that look. It's sort of like being devoured by your eyes. Totally focused and hungry. That look was maybe the most exciting thing on Earth. Passionate, raw, demanding, but still wrapped in a warmth of love. Always gives me the shivers.

But what could we possibly do. We were sitting the departures lounge (not one of those fancy, with possible private space lounges, but pretty spartan with some snacks and drinks, but not out with the masses spots to sit) an hour before a 5 hour flight and then home to the kids. And as cool as the mile high club might seem, practically on a packed daytime flight I couldn't see how we could make that work in any way you could get comfortable about not being seen.

As has always been the case I wasn't sure what the trigger was (just as well, if I knew I'd ruin it by using that trigger over and over and over). And after a long weekend away and alone it wasn't like we hadn't had lots and lots of sex over the past 4 days...

There were plenty of highlights, and more than a few experience stretching events to replay when in need of solo inspiration. In fact, I'd already replayed the hotel balcony in my head more than a few times, like now...at least I was sitting down...

"Should we go?"

"Oh, yeah. Guess so," thinking as I talked that I need to buy a minute or two to help let my daydreaming erection subside to be not quite as obvious to everyone around us.

A few minutes of nonsense chatter and questions, lines and passports and more lines, and after not too long we were settled into our seats. Seating was 2-3-2 across and we had 2 next to the window. I took the window and you took the aisle.

An hour after that we were ordering drinks at 38,000 feet. Shades were mostly closed throughout the cabin so it was dark, and after a little wine you had wrapped yourself into your blanket that you packed for the plane and drifted to sleep.

I was lost a show on my laptop, some spy thriller that passed hours on a long flight with a good mix of violence, suspense, and the occasional (and slightly out of place) graphic sex scene. This made my window seat position all the better since I didn't have to worry about hiding the screen when one of these scenes came on.

At some point you'd leaned into me while you were sleeping and apparently had also woken up because as I was lost in a particularly graphic scene (of limited need for the plot) in which a female agent seduces a source to keep on the bad guys' trail. I felt you move and remove the earbud from the ear near where your head was resting and whisper "I don't think you're supposed to watch porn on the plane".

"It's not" I whispered back, "it's a spy show".

"That one girl is fucking that other girl with her tongue," you whispered again, your breath warm on my ear.

This was exactly what was happening on the screen. "Yes, but it's really a spy show, it just has some sex in it."

"That's not just some sex in a show, that's porn, I mean look at that."

I was looking at it. I had been enjoying it, but now I was feeling a little guilty.

You whispered into my guilty silence "you like that though, don't you, two girls..." Your hand subtly dropped to my lap, "oh but not as much as I would have thought," as you probed finding no obvious evidence of an erection. "And she's hot too."

"Uh, well, ye—, er, which one?" Your hand was still in my lap, and I hadn't even noticed but was now covered with your blanket.

"Well I guess both probably, but I can't really see the one with her face buried between the other girl's legs."

"No, I suppose not, but she's one of the main characters, one of the spies."

"Well, she seems...committed to her work."

"Yes, and she seems to enjoy it."

"Not as much as the other girl does," you whisper, "and you seem to be enjoying it too." Your hand working over my jeans and the conversation combined with the scene in front of me had me now rock hard.

The sex had ended and the spy character was extracting important details during the post orgasm pillow talk.

"Mmm, you're right, she is hot too."

"You think so? Maybe she could get some important information out of you?" I asked joking.

"Not really my thing...but maybe."

"Really?" I turned to look at you.

Your eyes said "no, not really," but your fingers were working my belt buckle and your lips against my ear, whispered "if she could make me cum like that, I'd think about it."

This had the predictable effect of turning me on even more, and I let out a soft gasp when your fingers having found their way inside my jeans grazed the tip of my pre-cum slick cock.

"Shhh" your lips still at my ear. Your hand continuing to work, freeing my raging hard cock under the blanket. "You have to be quiet."

"Mmhmm"

Why don't you find another scene like that, or back that one up?"

There had been another sex scene earlier in that episode, just past the beginning of the episode. So I backed it up. To that scene. This one was the same female agent, but instead of taking the lead, she was being pounded from behind by a former colleague in a large shower.

"Ooh, that's—" you started to whisper in my ear, "but how come they don't show him?"

"Uh, what?"

"His his cock, or certainly not the penetration" your continued. In the girl scene the girls were fucking."

"Feeling cheated?" I managed to get out as her hand continued to bring me closer to climax.

"Don't you think they should show it, even if they don't show it going in, we should see his cock just like we see their..."

"Mmm"

"You want to see his hard cock?" You tease in my ear.

I open my mouth to protest, but only get out "uhh-" as you continue to work my cock and breath in my ear.

Suddenly you stop. I am about to ask why when realize you've noticed a flight attendant, virtually on top of us, walking down the aisle.

"Did she see?" I ask quietly

You peer over the seat at her retreating form, "well if she did she didn't care", you tell me in my ear as you resume your stroking.

The scene has ended, but instead of suggesting another you lean even closer, and whisper "I want it in my mouth."

"That would be less messy than this is going to be," I'd regained a little composure when the flight attendant walked by, "but I don't see how."

You've been looking around and come to the same conclusion "no, I don't either, there are people standing by the bathrooms..."

"And what I really want is to being hanging my head off the edge of the bed so I can feel you come in my throat, mmmm."

"Tell me more," I whisper/pant. The dirty talking has me close the edge again.

"When you are all the way in, into my throat and your balls are pressed against my nose and you can't control yourself and I can hear you and feel you as you can't do anything but cum"

"Uhh—" but I couldn't get the words out as your breath on my ear, your description and your hand all working together pushed me over the edge and I began to shoot jets of cum into the blanket.

After catching my breath "I, uh, sorry about your blanket."

Your lips were still against my ear "what about my hand?"