How to Overcome a Fear of Flying

He looked over at her. She was leaning forward, punching her thigh repeatedly after another hard shake of the plane, and a tear streamed down her cheek. She was completely silent, but looked like she wanted to scream.

He squeezed his sweaty palms on to his knees, and stared at her. The soft wide curve of her lower back and the top of her ass look like it was calling out to him, love-handles be damned.

Fuck it. He thought.

He reached out and put his arm around her waist. She flinched for a half second and he almost might have pulled away but suddenly her hand grasped his against her side and she melted back into the seat next to him and her head fell on to his shoulder with a shuddering sigh.

"It's okay. I got you," he whispered.

She never opened her eyes, but whispered, "Thank you."

She squeezed his hand against her soft belly and he flexed his arm against her waist to hold her tighter.

"The storm's tossing this boat around more than usual, but don't you worry, it can take it," he said.

"No, this doesn't feel like a boat anymore," she said.

"What?"

"It's not like waves, it feels more shaky and rickety now," she complained.

"I... I dunno I guess it's more like a train?"

"Yeah. Yeah do a train," she nodded.

He scoffed, "No one rides trains anymore. Not rickety ones anyway," he said.

She gave him a soft shove and suddenly looked up at him with a doe-eyed pouty look that made him want to give her the world. "I want a train," she whined softly.

He found himself smiling in amusement and nodded, "Okay, train it is." and felt a shiver as she squeezed his hand into her pillowy torso with a look of satisfied approval.

"It's a um... old timey train, in the uh, 1800s," he offered as they both closed their eyes again.

He felt her nod against his shoulder and whisper back, "Yeah. Where are we travelling to?"

"Out to the... frontier. To a new life."

"So exciting," she breathed, "Pioneers? To our little house on the prairie?"

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Mmmm, you'll build a big beautiful house right?" she moaned in a soft demanding way that had his cock jumping at her beck and call.

"Of course. With my own two hands," he reassured her.

"Yeah. Yeah you will," she breathed in satisfaction through a violent shake of the plane, but neither of them flinched.

"Damn armadillos on the tracks," he said.

He felt her shake against him in a giggle and pull his hand more tightly against her and he realized it was touching just underneath her breast. The plane shook even harder again and it bounced her tit on top of his hand, but she held it tightly in place.

"Whole bunch of them," he said, his voice shaking only from the movement of the plane and not at all from any nervousness now, holding her on their private fantasy train-ride.

"Oh!" she laughed back just as a few other passengers let out startled swears at the biggest jolt yet.

"I think that might have been a cow," he said, and let himself enjoy the satisfying bounce of her wide tit on the top of his hand as she giggled back, but it gave way to trembling in a few seconds as the shakes continued.

"Are you nervous about it?" he asked. "Scared of travelling off into the middle of nowhere?"

"Yeah..." she nodded.

"Me too," he said, his own voice shaking with the plane, "But, It's natural to be scared, don't worry. It'll be hard, but we'll make it. We'll have a big sturdy house, to keep away the wolves, and the cold."

She let out a long breath and asked, "Our house is gonna have a big fireplace right?"

"Whatever you want," he agreed.

"Mmm, yeah. You'll chop lots of wood to keep us warm through the winter nights?" her quiet voice told him, more than asked, and his cock swelled desperately against his pants.

"Of course. We'll have everything we need. Away from it all," he said, feeling in that moment like he'd give anything to jump into that world for real.

"Mm, yeah it'll be paradise. It'll make this long boring train ride so worth it."

He breathed in her hair and they silently held each other through the rest of the turbulence as it slowly dwindled. He pictured her as his wife in a fancy dress, him in a suit, and watching the landscape of the plains fly by their train window as he held her. He felt no worry or doubt, and her soft warm body seemed to be free of any fear as well.

He wasn't sure how much time had gone by and was almost ready to fall asleep when they both jolted at the ding from the overhead speaker.

"Thank you for your patience ladies and gentleman. The captain has turned the seatbelt sign off. We will be commencing cabin service shortly."

They both seemed to awaken from their dream and pulled away from each other, stifling embarrassed looks. His arm was soaked with sweat from the warmth of her back and she was red-faced with a crease from his shirt on her cheek.

"You um, you good?" he asked nervously, seeing her avoid his eyes.

"Yeah of course. Thanks... again," she said flatly.

"Hey I can have the ipad now right?" her son asked, finally turning away from the flight-map on his screen.

She nodded and reached for her purse, "Okay, but you have to use the headphones okay? And DON'T turn them too loud it's bad for your ears."

After she had set it up and relaxed back into her chair he got the sense she was looking at him and looked up to see her glance away again.

He realized he was staring at her now trying to read her face and quickly looked back at his phone again when she started to turn back.

What the fuck was he doing? Playing staring-tag. Basically snuggling with this woman he didn't know at all. Gawking and drooling over her like she's some dream girl. She's 12 years older than me and has a kid, he thought. Then, he reminded himself how much he resented the thought of her last two dates ditching her for that reason and decided to nix that last part. He wouldn't let something like that stop him if it was for the right girl. This woman was SO not the right girl for him though. He decided he was just stupidly mesmerized by a set of big tits. He tried to make himself remember the pudge of her belly underneath them....the width of her ass....the thickness of her thighs. He watched her cross them again and as his cock stirred he decided he'd have to try another tactic to dissuade himself.

Her personality. Bad, right? Argumentative. Pushy....Confident...Bold...but with a hidden vulnerable side. Goddammit. Come on, there's SO many better fish in the sea. Just ignore her, get through the flight and never see her again. He decided.

"You were probably hoping to sit next to some cute college girl and instead you get some crazy, high-maintenance anxiety-mom," she said with a scoff and rolled her eyes.

He took a split second to remind himself that no one can read minds, "What? No you're not... I don't mind... It's fine. You're fine," he said cringing at his stumbling words, and watching her give him a smirk and a giggle for it, though it seemed more endearing than derogatory. He sighed, "I don't think any 'cute college girls' would be impressed by a guy who admits to being afraid to fly, himself."

She let out a single hearty laugh, "Well maybe not 'any', but most of those girls, yeah you might be right." She gave him a knowing smirk, "They all just want to see the brazen exterior and don't want to be bothered with all the shit underneath. Thankfully I've learned better....the hard way. About those assholes that put up such a confident facade that they can't even smell their own bullshit to know what issues they have, let alone deal with them, so it festers for years as they treat their wife like shit and spiral downwards and when it all falls apart she's left to pick up the pieces."

He stared at her as she looked distantly with a sour twist to her face. "That... sounds like it would have been shitty to deal with," he offered.

"Yup," she said, looking down at her phone. "I've been told it's all for the best though," she muttered bitterly.

"I mean, at least it's good you're not still stuck with him," he suggested.

"Yeah... That's true. Things could always be a hell of a lot better though," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed, "One step at a time I guess," he thought, thinking of where he was flying to. "Hopefully that means I find a decent job and you... find someone who deserves you."

He cringed as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and realized he was overstepping himself. He still didn't know why he was talking so much. He was normally quiet and introverted but this woman seemed almost TOO easy to talk to, like she just coaxed out his honesty effortlessly.

He stared silently at his phone, but after a moment swore he could literally feel her eyes on him.

"You... don't have a job?" she finally said, an odd level of doubt in her voice suddenly.

"I don't have a DECENT job. I'm working in I.T. right now, and I mean, it's better than flipping burgers, but I'm overqualified for it."

"Oh?" she said, her tone changing abruptly, now sounding more interested.

"Well yeah I got a masters in computer science, and I'm only a year out from it but I still haven't found anything that's in the career I'm going for."

He detected her crossing her arms out of the corner of her eye and glanced for a split second at her twinkling eyes that seemed to be delving into him. "And that is?..."

"Software development, broadly speaking. That's where I'm going. I got an interview with this company that's exploding right now."

"And there's nothing back in our city?" she asked.

"There is... I got a few interviews, but nothing panned out." he admitted.

She let out an interested "hm," and looked at her phone again. He didn't know why it was making him so nervous all of a sudden to talk about it. He realized he was worried about impressing her and told himself that was stupid.

"So you're not like, still living with your parents then."

He scoffed a little too adamantly, "Of course not. Not since I started college."

She gave an amused grin, "Just checkin."

He frowned and told himself again it didn't matter what she thought of him. He played with the still-wet sleeve of his shirt, knowing he was still sweating.

"Just take it off," she said, and he looked up at her in surprise. She shrugged, "It's hot as hell on this plane, I'm feelin' it too just take it off I don't mind."

"I'm fine."

"No your not. Come on, I don't want to be smelling your B.O. for the last half of the flight so just take it off."

He looked up at her demanding eyes that drove the fact that she was right straight into his skull with her beautiful intimidating glare.

"K fine," he said, and looked away as the curl of her lips and approving twinkle in her eyes made them even more irritatingly enticing.

He unbuttoned his cuffs and chest and slipped the shirt off, throwing it under the seat in front of him with her blanket. He thankfully hadn't developed much for pit stains. The t-shirt he was wearing suddenly felt tight and ill-fitting but he knew it was just the light dampness from the sweat.

He glanced over to see that she was not in fact looking at her phone, at least not at first. She played with it for a second then suddenly said, "K fine, I was wrong, you DO look like you work out."

He knew he turned beet red, despite himself, and was about to mutter a simple 'thanks' when she qualified it, "I mean, you're not huge or anything but I can tell you try. The veins are telling anyway."

He gave her an off-put glance, feeling his confidence swoop like a rollercoaster.

"I'm just saying... I can admit when I'm wrong. Unless you were thinking I couldn't." There was a teasing quality to her voice that was almost alluring but he resisted the feeling, and decided she had probably been damning him with faint praise.

"Okay," he said. "...do you?"

"What?"

"Work out," he said, thinking at first it was a fair question, but her silence made him realize his error.

She finally replied, "Yeah... Don't always have the time, but I do. Do I look like I don't?" she asked sharply.

He resisted literally facepalming and settled for clenching his jaw and giving a slow blink, "That's NOT what I was trying to imply, look YOU brought it up."

She continued like he hadn't spoken, "Of course, when I do, I have to fight against the thought that I'm giving in to my ex who's favourite past time was nagging at me that I was too much of a fat-ass, so there's that-...

"Hey come on. You're NOT a f-"

"I know I'm not," she interrupted and crossed her arms angrily.

"Look, if it makes you feel better, any guy who bothered to look twice could see you got some really nice tone to you. I think whatever you're doing is clearly working fine," he reassured her, perhaps a little too patronizingly.

"You're goddamn right it is, and I don't need you to make me 'feel better' about it," she retorted.

He felt sick of her shit and rolled his eyes, "Well at least you didn't get overly defensive about it."

She scoffed and they both stared at their phones angrily. He knew he was self-conscious about feeling too skinny, probably more than he should be; similar to how she was clearly more self-conscious than she should be about her weight, but he told himself she was definitely the one responding unfairly over it.

Whatever. Probably for the best. Bridge burned. Now it's nice and simple and you can ride out the flight in awkward silence.

That lasted for about ten minutes until suddenly her sweater was coming off. His eyes darted towards her instinctively and then locked desperately back on to his phone as her skin came into view. He had thought she was only wearing a bra under her sweater but a low cut red tank top with an embroidered hem was evidently what lay beneath. A massive expanse of soft creamy skin on the top of her tits and her shoulders called out to him from his peripheral vision and his cock begged his eyes to look over and take in the details, but he resisted.

Then she stretched. Her arms reached up to the ceiling and her belly disappeared, just like when she had tried to put her luggage in the overhead, only now she was more revealed. He sensed more than watched her immense rack rise and fall beside him and heard her let out a sensual sigh. She held her balled up sweater on her lap and resumed looking at her phone.

"It's hot in here," she said, in a defensive tone. "Keep your eyes to yourself."

He rolled his eyes internally at her presumptuous tone, but gladly obeyed her command and kept ignoring her to focus on his phone.

A few minutes later though, it made a buzz and an odd icon came up near the top. His battery was critical.

"Goddamn it," he said. He knew it hadn't been that low and must have suddenly drained or failed. He thumbed through the settings to try to see why,...again. It had happened once before but he had hoped it was just a weird one-off glitch. His phone was already automatically shutting down though. He let out a sigh and angrily hit his thumb on the screen as it went black.

"What?" she asked, sounding amused.

"My phone died," he said. "I need a charger but it's in my checked bag."

"Aww. Computer guy's got software problems?"

"Yeah cause I totally designed and wrote the code for my own phone," he said sarcastically.

"I got MY charger," she said.

"You got a different type," he said in annoyance, already having recognized her phone.

"I just meant I had the sense to pack it. Didn't say I was going to lend it to you," she said in a saucy tone.

He looked over at her finally, seeing her raising a sleek eyebrow and regarding him with a beautiful bitchy stare that seemed to relish his situation. Her sweater covered the fat of her midsection and pushed up her tits that protruded like balloons over the low cut top. That and the smooth contour of her haunches with her crossed legs made her seem like a voluptuous evil goddess perched and watching his defeat with mischievous delight.

He knew his eyes had darted over her body for a split second before giving her the annoyed look he intended, and he quickly looked back at his phone. He swore under his breath at the black screen and let his head fall back on the head rest to close his eyes.

She's NOT that good looking. She can't torment you. She just gets off on being a bitch, especially since you insulted her. She's definitely not flirting. Even if she was, why would you be stupid enough to go for a woman like her? The thoughts flew through his head until he forced himself to try to think of something else and get some rest.

A while later the stewardess finally reached them. He kept his eyes closed, half-pretending to be asleep. He heard the kid get excited over juice and cookies, and let himself smile listening to his enthusiasm.

"For yourself ma'am?" the stewardess asked.

"I'll have a that vodka cooler. You take Mastercard?"

"Of course. Do you think your husband would like anything?"

There was a short pause, "Yeah get him a beer."

He opened his eyes in surprise to see her already paying. "No I'm good, that's fine....and I'm not her h-"

"Naw it's my treat, I got it," she said and gestured for the stewardess to continue.

"No you don't have to,"

"Come on, I saw you eyeing the drink menu before, and I don't want to drink alone,"

"Don't worry it's-"

"Oh look it's opened already," she said in mock disappointment. "Just set it down there thanks."

He sighed and said a begrudging "Thanks," still unsure why she had done it.

The stewardess moved on.

"Is it that hard to accept a kind gesture?" she asked. She raised her cooler towards him, "Peace offering?"

He raised his beer with a begrudging smirk and clinked her drink, then took a swig. It tasted incredibly refreshing.

"Alright, so I admit I was being a... BIT of a bitch, before," she said. "Hey, careful with that look, I said a BIT. I don't apologize very often, I'm trying to be nice here. Anyway, I appreciate what you said when you were trying to back-pedal from the corner you'd talked yourself into. I could tell you were actually being honest. Lord knows I don't get that many compliments anymore."

"Really?..." he replied automatically.

"Yeah really," she said and eyed him with another faint smile and a calculating narrow gaze he was getting used to.

"Do YOU not get compliments much? You sure as hell don't seem like you know how to take them."

"I... no actually," he admitted.

"Hmm. Well I WAS trying to pay you a compliment, those veins are fuckin' fantastic," she said with an almost sultry voice now.

He looked at her playful smile and wondered again whether she was just toying with him.

"I'm a nurse, it's kinda my thing," she explained.

"Ah, okay," he said, understanding a little now at least.

She seemed to wait, expecting more of a reaction, then continued, "I mean I don't really work as a nurse per se now I guess. Worked my way up into management," she said, crossing her legs the other way so she could turn towards him.

"Yeah?" he replied, taking another swig of his beer and finding himself automatically turning as well in response.

"Yeah, it's for an agency. It's not as exciting to some, but it's more stable, different kind of stress I suppose. I still gotta know my stuff for the nurses I oversee, but more desk work than anything. I do a lot of hiring actually," she said casually playing with her hair and taking a drink.

"Oh?," he said, getting drawn into her conversation, like she was chatting him up at some party or at a bar. He chuckled, "Maybe you could give me some pointers."

She gave him a mischievous smile, "Want me to interview you?"

"I'm not trying to be a nurse," he said.

"Shya, right. You'd make a terrible nurse," she teased.

"I mean if I wanted to... How hard could it be?"