Six Miles High with Open Thighs

*Author's Note: Even though this story takes place in public, it's less focused on exhibitionism than on the erotic coupling, hence the category. Enjoy!*

*****

"Aiyeee!" I yelped at the pinch on my right ass cheek. Several people in the boarding pass line and sitting at the flight gate glanced in my direction. I clapped a hand over my mouth and felt an overwhelming need to shrink into my carry-on bag. If my skin was lighter, I would've been turning beet red.

"Are you ok?" said my friend Anna, who was standing in line in front of me.

I turned away from her and glared back at my boyfriend Martin in line behind me. He was smirking back with the cool confidence of a man who mistakenly believed I wouldn't slap him in public. Before my temper could flare, he leaned in for a soft kiss. "Your ass is irresistible," he whispered. A woman sitting near us glanced up from her phone, uncertain whether she'd heard him say what she thought he said.

"Shhhh!" I swatted his chest. Feigning anger, I rolled my eyes and turned back forward as the line crept to the gate. He stepped closer to me and I could feel his body against mine. His breath washed against my skin as he leaned in, causing goosebumps to break out along my forearms.

"Sorry, babe," he whispered in my ear. Stepping closer, he reached around my upper chest and pulled me into a tight embrace. I couldn't stay mad at him for long. I leaned my face down and kissed his forearm. "I can't wait till we get to New Orleans."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Because I can't wait to have you backing this ass up on me while I've got you bent over the balcony of our hotel room." He swept my hair away from my neck and blew a breath of warm air down my spine and then released me. My legs turned to linguine, and I was barely able to keep myself upright and wobble forward as the line moved up. I casually lifted my free hand to my necklace and played with the charm at the end of it, trying to block my chest with my arm. Between Martin and the airport chill, there was no way that anyone looking at me would be unable to see the hard nipples poking through my thin dress.

As we boarded the plane, Anna piled into the window seat of our row and I moved into the middle seat. "Do you mind if I take the window?" Martin asked after he put our carry-on bags in the overhead compartment. "I want to take a nap and don't want them to ram me with the drink cart."

Anna nodded and we shifted around so that Martin was in the window seat, I was in the middle, and Anna was on the aisle.

"Excuse me ma'am?" Martin said to a passing flight attendant. "Could I have a blanket when you get a chance?"

The woman stopped at our row, swinging her hips like a bar waitress and thrust her chest in Martin's direction. Her heavy makeup, rail-thin frame, tiny but perky breasts, two-sizes-too-small top, and strands of carefully free-flying blonde hair made her look like she'd walked off the set of an airplane porn movie. She returned several minutes later and reached across me to hand Martin a thin, white blanket.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked with a smile too toothy to be real.

"No, this is good. Thanks," Martin replied.

"Don't you have a pilot to blow, or something?" I muttered under my breath. She lingered for a moment longer before disappearing up the aisle behind us. "And you might want to upgrade from the child-size top," I said a little louder when she was gone.

"Paula, you said you were going to be nice this trip," Anna said as she fastened her seatbelt.

"What? I am being nice." I said as I fastened my own. "But if we're being accurate, what I actually said was 'I promise not to get us thrown out of another bar.'"

"Why do we have to go to Bourbon Street anyway?"

"That's where the action is," Martin said with closed eyes. He'd draped the blanket over both me and him and he had it pulled up to his chin like he was in bed.

"New Orleans is a treasure chest of culture," Anna countered, excitedly. "It sits at the crossroads of civilizations and you'd do yourself some good to try to take advantage of it. Mardi Gras is about more than drinking and acting stupid."

"I know. It's also about titties."

Anna's jaw fell open. She was in her mid-20s but still had all the innocence of a child.

I punched Martin in the thigh under the blanket.

"Ouch!" Martin shouted. He sat forward in his seat and peered around me at Anna. "I apologize," he said and pretended to tip an imaginary hat. "But if I'm being perfectly honest, the only treasure chest I'm interested in is the one under this blanket." He reached across and squeezed my left breast as he said it, drawing another punch to the thigh. He rolled his eyes and reached up to turn off the overhead light, bathing us in darkness. He shut his eyes again and laid his head back against the seat.

I'd been busy with work recently, which meant the flight gave Anna and I a good chance to catch up. She'd been "courting" a guy she'd met at her church. Anna refused to use the word "dating." And even though almost everyone in our friend group was going down to Mardi Gras with a significant other, Anna didn't think it was appropriate for her to invite him.

Anna's puritanical living would've been nauseating if not for her friendliness. And even though she was still a virgin, she always had an open ear when I dished about my current or past relationships. As much as she tried to pretend to be offended, her shy giggles and excited comments and questions told a different story. And I swear, during one of our phone calls, I could've sworn I heard heavy breathing and strain in her voice.

I was in the middle of telling Anna about giving Martin a blowjob while riding through an automatic carwash when a flight attendant pulled up next to us with the drink cart. I was grateful to see that it wasn't the same one from before. Anna and I both requested water. When I turned to ask Martin what he wanted to drink, his head was drooped down with his chin on his chest, so I let him sleep.

I lowered my voice and returned to my story as the cart went up the aisle. Almost as if on cue, I felt Martin's hand come to rest on my knee. It slowly slid up my leg, pushing back the hem of my dress, until it came to rest on my upper thigh. Just as I was about to protest, his hand stopped and I heard his deep breathing resume.

About ten minutes passed when I felt a slight squeeze from Martin's fingers. When I looked over, his head was still down and his eyes were closed, so I ignored it. He squeezed again and rubbed his fingertips across my skin in a small circle. As his fingers began to inch higher up my thigh, I shifted my hands into my lap to block his path. Martin angled his hand toward my inner thigh and tried to go around, but I clamped my legs shut on his hand. Deterred, he seemed content to rub his palm against my skin, so I let him be. But the longer his hand lingered there, the weaker the muscles in my legs seemed to get. Before long, my knees had fallen apart, and Martin's knuckles were rubbing against the back of mine. The only separation was the thin material of my dress—my hand above and his hand below.

Anna was complaining about her supervisor and I was doing my best to pay attention. She was saying something about him always hovering over her cubicle, but I was focused on the fact that my boyfriend was, deliberately or not, pushing against my hand through my dress. The movement was almost robotic. Back and forth. Back and forth. But it was driving my hand back against my pussy, making it more sensitive with each bump. I let it go on longer than I should have, and against my better judgement, moved my hand out of the way to give him direct access. Martin didn't miss a beat. I flexed my legs under the blanket as his fingertips pressed against my panty-covered mound.

"...So, he's still just standing there droning on about a billing report and eating a donut," Anna said, "but the only thing I can focus on is the chocolate in the middle of his tie." Anna threw her head back in laughter. I forced a chuckle even though I didn't know what the hell she was talking about.

My breath caught in my throat when I felt Martin sliding my panties to the side. I made a half-hearted attempt to brush his hand away, but he refused to stop until he was openly caressing my freshly shaven pussy lips. Always the tease, he was making it his business to stay far away from my clit. His fingers traced along one side of my pussy, up through my landing strip, and back down the other side. Every touch was as light as a feather, and he never stayed in one spot for long.

I was sliding further down in my seat trying to meet his hand without being too obvious to Anna. Blood was surging away from my brain and I was gradually losing the ability to think rationally.

"...But then, it's not anyone's business whether I have a Bible on my desk is it?" Anna asked.

Once again, I had no clue what she was talking about. "No way! So what'd you doooo—" The words whistled out of me as Martin dipped a finger into the mouth of my pussy.

Anna's face wrinkled in concern. "Are you ok?"

I sat forward in my seat and leaned onto Martin's buried hand. "Yeah...uhh...just a leg cramp."

"I hope it's not...what's it called? Deep vein thrombosis?" For all her positivity, Anna had a way of turning even the most benign of symptoms into the worst possible prognosis. "I read an article about that a few months ago where a woman had it and they almost had to cut off her leg."

"Well, I don't really think—"

"It's caused by a blood clot and they said the best way to prevent it is to stimulate circulation." Anna's hand shot under the blanket and onto my right thigh. "Which leg is it?" Before I had a chance to respond, her hand was already sliding down onto my lower right leg. It's a wonder hers didn't bump into Martin's as it passed.

So here I was at 30,000 feet with my boyfriend fingering me under a blanket right next to my oblivious friend who was massaging my leg. Guilt bubbled in the pit of my stomach, but pre-orgasmic bliss fluttered up from just below it. I wanted to take my remaining in-flight water and pour it over my head. My eyes glazed over and fell shut while my head rolled slowly from side to side against the headrest.

"Mmmmmm," I moaned as the pressure built up inside me.

"Is that the right spot?" Anna asked.

"Unnhuhhh...right there. That feels soooo good."

Anna's forceful grip on my calf was in stark contrast to the gentle slide of Martin's finger. I cracked my eyelids open and stared at the back of Anna's red hair. Her face was just inches from my pussy.

"Is everything ok?" came a voice from the aisle. My body froze. When I glanced up, I saw that it was Ms. Tinytop, the flight attendant from earlier.

"She has a leg cramp. I'm trying to massage it out," Anna said.

"Oh, I see. Would you like some ice?" the flight attendant asked.

"No, I don't need anything from you," I said hoarsely. I didn't mean to sound like a total bitch, but she was ruining my groove.

The flight attendant's smile grew larger, but there was an unmistakable glint of contempt in her eye. She nodded and walked away.

I tried to refocus, but her presence was enough to put a damper on my orgasm. I kicked my right leg free from Anna's grip while also fanning Martin's hand away. "Thanks, Anna. That seemed to do the trick." She smiled and sat back up in her seat. I clenched my teeth and silently cursed the flight attendant while I repositioned my dress

"Oh yeah. Let me show you the pictures from Susan's wedding," Anna said as she fished around for her phone.

I felt Martin's hand creep back onto my thigh, but I gently swatted it away. When he slid it onto my thigh again, I turned in my seat so that my back was toward him and I was practically leaning against Anna.

Susan's dress was gorgeous. The intricate lace in the front was a perfect complement to her immaculate hair. She was slightly overweight, but you could never tell by the way her mermaid-style dress did a paradoxical job of hiding her excess curves while also accentuating them.

Anna was telling me about the ordeal they ran into with one of Susan's bridesmaids ripping her bridesmaid gown just before the ceremony when I felt Martin's body against my back. His hard cock pressed against my butt and he laid his head against my upper back while his hand came to rest on the side of my leg. I let it alone since it sounded from his breathing like he was going back to sleep.

"...From a distance, you couldn't really tell that we'd sliced off part of her gown with a pair of scissors," Anna continued.

As much as I tried to focus on her story, Martin's warm breath on the back of my neck was a distraction. I wiggled my butt back against him. No response. I pressed back more directly. Still no response. Feeling a little stung, I finally gave up. The moment we got to New Orleans, I was going to climb onto his fat cock.

Several minutes later, I felt Martin's breathing become shallower. He gently squeezed my thigh and pressed himself against my butt. I grinned but otherwise ignored him while I continued to look at what seemed like several thousand pictures that Anna had taken at Susan's wedding. But before I knew it, Martin had slipped his hand under my dress and was stroking the exposed ass flesh that my bikini cut panties provided.

I continued to try to ignore him even as he worked his fingers beneath the material. His other hand pressed against my back and he gave me a gentle shove. I turned and rolled my hips further in the seat so that I was basically lying on my side. My entire body shuddered when he trailed his fingers along my slit. Taking a quick glance over my shoulder, I saw that he still had his eyes closed and was still pretending to be asleep. Wanting to beat him at his own game, I casually slid my hand back beneath the blanket and reached for the front of his pants. My heart skipped a beat when I felt the skin of his bare cock. I had no idea when he'd managed to pull it out. Still, I refused to be outdone. I wrapped my hand around his shaft with a firm grip and gently began to stroke him. The blanket had ridden up on my shoulder, and I hoped Anna wouldn't notice it moving.

Martin's breath quickened and I felt him bury his face in my hair while burying a finger in my pussy from behind. He managed to snake the other hand beneath my body and around to my chest. There wasn't enough slack in the blanket for him to slip his hand into my dress without Anna seeing so he began kneading my breast through my dress.

I tried to prop myself up on my elbow and lean in closer to Anna's phone, giving my hips more freedom to move. Every time my boyfriend's finger grazed my clit, I swiveled backwards onto his finger. I wanted nothing more than to have him fingerbang me through to the orgasm I missed out on earlier. I didn't even protest when he slipped the strap of my dress from my shoulder and grabbed a handful of my bare tit.

"Paula, are you feeling ok? You don't look so good," Anna said, seemingly out of the blue.

"Me?" I responded dumbly.

"Yes. You look flushed and kind of out of it." Anna put a hand to my forehead.

I trembled at her touch as I continued to get fingered right under her nose. "I'm fine. I just...unnnhhh...airsickness...I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. I'll get you some ice water." Anna reached above her head for the call button. I reached up to stop her until I remembered my chest was half exposed beneath the blanket.

Ms. Tinytop appeared moments later. "Yes?"

"My friend is feeling a little sick. Could we please have some ice water?"

"Certainly."

Anna looked back at me with genuine concern. I did my best to appear lucid.

Ms. Tinytop returned with a cup of water that she handed to Anna, who then offered it to me. One of my arms was interlocked with Martin's around my tits and my other arm was giving him a handjob.

I leaned forward and opened my mouth. Anna brought the cup to my lips and tipped it so I could drink from it. I nodded and she placed it on her tray table.

"Let me see more of the pictures," I said, hoping to divert her attention away from me. She gave my head a gentle pat and resumed scrolling through the wedding pictures.

Martin abruptly pulled his hand back from my pussy, much to my disappointment. I quickly glanced across the aisle, thinking we'd been discovered. No one was looking our way. Martin's hand pushed against my ass cheek, guiding me even further onto my side.

"Hey, those are cool," Martin said, leaning tighter against my body. He was looking over my shoulder at Anna's phone. "Whose wedding is that?'

"Welcome back, sleepyhead," Anna giggled. "It's from our friend Susan's wedding."

"When was it?"

"Just a few weeks ago. It was a couple hours outside the city. It was so beautiful."

"I can imagine. I like to get out of the city from time to time," Martin continued. "It gets kind of tight there." As he spoke, I felt his cock rubbing along my soaking pussy lips.

"Well, she's from out that way. At first, she was going to have it in the city but the venue she wanted to use got double booked somehow. She didn't stress about it though because she ended up having it closer to her home and family. Do you want to hear something funny? Well, not 'haha' funny."

"Sure."

"Even though it didn't rain at all in the city that day, it rained out where we were. I mean poured down. There was only a little that morning, but it absolutely poured during the reception. There was mud everywhere! Me and a couple other bridesmaids had to take our shoes off and run inside in our bare feet."

"Wow, that sounds wild. But there's nothing wrong with getting yourself wet sometimes." As he spoke, he pushed the head of his cock past my lips. I lowered my head and bit down on my tongue.

"That's true," Anna said. "And rain on your wedding day is supposed to be good luck."

"Hey," Martin said, peering around at me from the side, "how come we didn't go to the wedding?"

"I had to work that weekend," I said through gritted teeth, still keeping my head lowered.

"That's too bad. It might've been fun to get out there," Martin said.

"Wow, a guy that likes to go to weddings?" Anna asked with a hitch in her voice.

"I like to come when I can," he said as he bottomed out in my pussy.

"Oh my God," I couldn't help muttering under my breath.

"You don't sound well at all," Anna said. "Here, why don't you try to lay down and see if it passes." Anna gently pushed down on my head while patting her lap. I turned my head facing away from her and laid it down on top of her legs. Martin slowly withdrew and pushed back in, drawing a low moan from me.

"Does she usually get airsick," she asked Martin.

"No, not that I can remember," he said. "She might be coming down with something. She seemed fine when I came over at her place earlier. She'll probably come around if she rests a little." I couldn't help noticing his emphasis on the word "come" each time he said it.

Anna stroked the back of my head, running her fingers through my hair. My scalp tingled with every touch. "So, what kind of work do you do?" Anna lowered her voice, apparently trying to give me a chance to rest.

"I'm in real estate," Martin said as he started to develop a slow, gentle rhythm.

"Wow, that must be lucrative in the city."

"Yeah, I do alright," Martin chuckled. I was impressed with his ability to carry on a conversation while tease-fucking me under a blanket in front of my friend.

"Well, you might be able to help me out. My lease is up soon, and I'm looking to get across town."

"Sure, I could probably get you something with some good size right where you want it."

"But I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense. It's what I do. I actually helped Paula get into a place just before we started dating. Anything I do for her, I'd be willing to do to you." I made a mental note to make him pay for the double entendres later.