Six Miles High with Open Thighs

I found myself gripping Anna's leg as Martin pressed himself against my ass cheeks over and over. Every gentle thrust from Martin moved my head along Anna's legs and pressed my hair against my damp forehead. The heat from our bodies had nowhere to go beneath the blanket and it felt like a glove around me.

The din of noise in the cabin soon faded away and blended into the roar of the engines beneath the plane's wings. Even the sound of Martin and Anna's conversation drifted off into the abyss. The slow, tortuous fucking I was getting was detaching me from reality. I could feel the pulse of every drop of blood as it surged through my temples. The thick vein along Martin's shaft was like a mountain ridge that I kept sliding down.

A cock brushed across the bridge of my nose and my upper lip. It was small and had the smell of peppermint. My brain was too fuzzy for me to remember who it belonged to, but I didn't care. I slipped my tongue over the tip and down along the shaft. It pushed past my lips and slowly began to thrust in and out, slipping across my tongue. Surprisingly, there was no protest from Martin. But then, it wasn't the first time he'd spit roasted me with another guy.

The plane suddenly rocked from side to side followed by a series of smaller jolts that pulled me back to reality. "Attention passengers," came a voice over the intercom. "We're experiencing a bit of turbulence. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts." There was a ding as the "fasten your seat belts" sign illuminated.

I realized with a start that the cock in my mouth was actually Anna's finger. I spat it out and she pulled her hand back as if she'd dipped it in lava.

"Is she bucked up?" Ms. Tinytop asked as she floated down the aisle past our row.

"Huh?" Anna cleared her throat. "Oh...yes, she is." Anna's voice was high-pitched and far away. The flight attendant continued down the aisle checking seatbelts.

I buried my face against Anna's legs. She was breathing deeply, and I could feel the tension in her leg muscles. Martin was motionless behind me except for the twitch of his cock inside me. Anna knew. We both knew she knew. She knew we both knew she knew.

None of us said a word. I couldn't even begin to think of what to say to apologize to Anna about getting fucked across her lap. An eternity of moments passed. Finally, Anna broke the silence. "Just...umm...you two can...umm...I'll keep a lookout."

Martin needed no further encouragement and immediately resumed his strokes. Now that the game was up, he made little effort to hide the fact that he was fucking me under the blanket.

I couldn't will my body to move. I was cloaked in a blanket that might as well had been a cloak of shame. If it had been just about any of my other friends, this might not have been so bad. But Anna was the wholesome one. The one who was always decent. The one whose social media was littered with Bible verses and motivational quotes.

Still, as Martin drove my head against her legs, I couldn't deny how hot it was to have her pussy just inches from the back of my head. I ran my fingers along her lower leg and was surprised that she didn't flinch. Her pale, practically glowing skin stood in stark contrast to my cinnamon features. Her skin was smooth and cool to the touch beneath my fingertips. Every muscle in her leg seemed to come up to the surface of her skin to meet me.

I wanted to turn to face her. To apologize for making her a captive audience to me and Martin's mile-high debauchery. To thank her for letting us continue. To tell her that I'd give anything to have her join us again in New Orleans.

It was me who flinched when I felt her palm against my upper back. Her hand paused for a moment as if trying to figure out whether it had caused offense. I responded by scraping my fingernails up the back of her calf. Her soft caress stood in erotic opposition to Martin's ravenous feeding. While one of his hands roughly groped my braless tit, the other was locked around my hip and pulled me back to meet every stroke of his cock. I squirmed beneath his grasp as my pussy melted around him and I cried out when his fingers found and pinched my nipple. I turned my face downwards pressed my face against Anna's legs, trying to muffle the sound.

"Airsickness," I heard Anna say, probably to the passengers across the aisle. I hoped the darkness of the cabin would still be enough to mask the true source of my moans.

The skin of Anna's thighs was hot, as if the blood in her lower legs had been pulled up towards her core. The scent of lavender wafted up to my nostrils. It was intoxicating and made my head swimmy. Before I realized I was doing it, I was trying to taste it. What started as a kiss just above her knee turned into a kiss on the inner side of her leg just above it. I was ashamed by my lust, but couldn't stop. I reasoned that it was slightly less awkward than sucking her finger because at least now she knew me and Martin were having sex under the blanket.

My head suddenly fell forward as Anna parted her knees. That was the last response I expected. Her hand shifted across my back to my shoulder and came to rest on the side of my breast.

Without hesitation, I kissed my way along her inner thigh, pushing her dress back with my face as I went. I continued up as high as I could without alerting the passengers across the aisle. I was drunk with lust. Every time Martin's cock brushed my slippery clit, I licked her skin.

"She feels so fucking good," I heard Martin whisper. "It's like a warm, wet, tight glove." It took me a moment to realize he was talking about me to Anna. The only response from her was her hand shifting further beneath the blanket onto the swell of my breast. She gave it a tentative squeeze. Then another. I rolled my body, pressing it into her hand. I was bubbling over.

I wasn't anything close to being bisexual. I'd never felt genuine sexual attraction to another woman. At least...not in the way I felt it towards men. Yes, I'd had my nipples sucked, been fingered, and gotten my pussy eaten more than once by another woman, but it was always in the context of one or both of us having sex with a man. And even though my focus was on the man, her touch always brought something the man couldn't deliver. Something that elevated me to a higher peak of sexual satisfaction. And yet...I couldn't see myself actively seeking it out. I couldn't see myself sexually involved with a woman if there was no man involved. And even when there was, I never dared initiate the contact with a woman. But there...in that moment...at 30,000 feet...I wanted nothing more than to push Anna's legs open and drink her down.

Deep down beneath the smell of lavender was something else. Something raw. Primal. Her scent. Martin made a familiar groan behind me. I squeezed my muscles on him but I didn't want it to end. A few minutes more and I would unlock Anna's sexual cage and release the animal within. I slid my fingers up along her calf until they reached her inner thigh. Anna's legs parted further.

Martin's fingers dug into my hips to the point of being painful and he pushed himself rapidly against me several times before pulling out. Ropes of hot cum splashed against my ass cheeks as I listened to him stroke his wet cock. He groaned in my ear, struggling not to yell out. I silently tried to will Anna to reach beneath the blanket and finish me off, but her hand remained on my breast, continuing to gently squeeze it.

When Martin finished, he used the blanket to wipe me off before returning my panties to their original position. Anna pulled her hand back, and I reluctantly sat up, not knowing how to deal with the fallout of what had just happened.

The "fasten seat belts" sign went off and I unfastened mine and leapt from the seat. I practically shoved a man aside as I flung myself into the airplane bathroom. Staring at myself in the mirror, I had all the look of a woman who had just taken advantage of my friend's situation and brought her unwillingly along on my own sexual thrill ride. Hopefully, she'd be able to forgive me at some point.

When I returned to my seat, Anna and Martin were looking and laughing at his phone. He was showing her pictures we'd taken at a carnival we'd recently attended. There was commentary for every picture: the cotton-candy beard I put on him, the giant purple teddy bear he won for me, the random passerby making a funny face behind us. Fortunately, Martin skipped over the fuzzy ferris wheel pictures he'd taken while I was giving him a handjob.

We landed in New Orleans around 11pm. The passengers groggily filed off the plane like zombies. Martin brought down our carry-on bags from the overhead compartment and we slowly moved to the front of the plane. Ms. Tinytop was at the door saying goodbye to passengers.

"Have a good evening. Thank you for flying. Bye bye, now." As I approached, she offered me a tight-lip smile and a nod but said nothing. Martin was right behind me. "You be sure to come back and fly with us anytime," she said. I rolled my eyes and stepped out the door.

"Thank you for the courteous service," Martin responded. "Oh, and thank you for the blanket." I cringed and glanced over my shoulder. "It may need a wash, though," he said as he shoved it into her hands. I turned on my heels and scurried down the jetway, hoping the blanket wasn't still wet.