Tome of Desire Ch. 01

Ian Hill hated flying. Everything from the excessive waiting to the cramped seats and the dry air. Yet here he was on board a plane heading halfway around the globe. His hands should have been sweaty by now, and typically he would be repeating all the safety procedures in his mind. But not this time. Instead, Ian was distracted. He couldn't help but stare at the legs in front of him, forgetting all about his resentment for flying. The only reminder was the insistent beat of his heart, but this was not due to the plane taxing to the runway. No, it had started when the flight attendant had crossed her legs as she sat down. Now she was tightening her seat belt and preparing for takeoff. Her movements drew his attention to her chest. Ian had first noticed her during boarding, but he had gotten in the wrong line to get a good look at her. Then he had managed to hold up his own line as he tried to peek through the queue of passengers to his right. He was only rewarded with a brief glimpse of her brown eyes and her polite smile.

A little downcast, he sat down in his seat. But the disappointment quickly turned to delight when the flight attendant had started the safety demonstration right in front of his row. The attendant, or miss Garon as her name tag read, was young and tall, with dark brown hair pulled back in a bun. Her copper-colored skin had been blessed by numerous hours in the sun. She looked to be in her late twenties and definitely Italian. The tight black uniform dress hugged her body graciously; she was slim, elegant but with a few curves in all the right places. The dress stopped just above her knees when she stood up, but it had ridden a fair bit up her thighs when she sat and crossed her legs. The shoes were black as well, the design a simple attempt at comfortable high heels, and they had not caught Ian's attention like the dress. Until now. One shoe was dangling from the tip for her foot, and he found himself watching just a little too eagerly. Reminding himself not to stare quite so blatantly, he slowly raised his eyes, looking for something else to occupy his mind. He sneaked a last peek at her face and froze. She was staring right back at him! She smiled politely but held his gaze, leaving no doubt that she had caught him. Ian felt his cheeks blush and stomach tingle. He gave a forced and embarrassed smile and quickly looked away to avoid further embarrassment.

Ian always got off on the wrong foot with women. When he met someone he liked, he always managed to make a fool of himself, just like now. Feeling down, he looked around the plane; on his left was another passenger, an older male, who tried to look important, arranging and rearranging everything in front of him. Earlier, Ian had seen him swallow a pill. Now he was putting on what looked like an expensive pair of headphones and a pair of Gorgio Armani sleeping covers. On Ian's right was the window. Outside, the Logan International Airport's terminal building was disappearing from Ian's view as the plane reached the runway.

While the Airbus 330-200 began accelerating for takeoff, Ian continued to peer out the window. It would be a long time before he was back in Boston again. His reflection in the window showed his round glasses and untidy black hair. He tried a few times to comb it to the side, but not with much success. Ian had just turned 28 and was now on his way to Rome for a six months stay. The goal was to continue his work with Amara Romano. Professor Amara Romano, he reminded himself. She had recently been offered a position as a professor back in Italy, but the many hours they had spent together had wiped away any formality. This trip was the final part of his ph.d. studies, but he had already done more than enough to finish his dissertation. So to Ian, it seemed mostly like the prize for a job well done.

The work they had done together was, in his own view, excellent. Their articles had been very well received too. In general, he was proud of his work but quite unsure of what the future held for him. There were not many options for experts in ancient and lost languages, not even if you included a near-perfect understanding of Latin. He dreaded ending up in a museum, aging along with artifacts on display, slowly fading away until he was a part of the permanent exhibition there. He shuddered just thinking about it, then pushed the thoughts away. He should focus on the months immediately ahead of him. Visiting Amara would be good, or well more than good - it would be great. He loved working with her, even if it seemed like Amara had gotten most of the publicity so far. If Ian was honest to himself, he liked Amara more than just as a colleague. But then again, he might be great with old languages, but he was never really good with words of his own. Especially when women were involved.

The man next to Ian had fallen asleep for the night flight. The effect of the sleeping pill had kicked in fast. Ian turned to look forward, and again he paused at the attendant's amazing legs. Her shoe was still dangling dangerously from the tip of the right foot, and it had a strange tantalizing effect on him. Taking a deep breath, he started to feel a growing need to adjusts his pants before things became uncomfortable. He did so quickly and covered the bulge forming in his pants with his hands. Then looked around to see if anyone had noticed. The sleeping man next to him wouldn't notice even if he had taken his pants off, and his row of seats was a little further forward than the middle section of the plane, so the passengers there couldn't see him. In front of him was just the separation to the next part of the cabin. Satisfied, Ian leaned back and moved his hands to his sides, chuckling lightly at how obvious his erection was in his comfy pants. Closing his eyes, about to try and nap before they served dinner, a dreadful realization came upon him, and he slowly turned towards the flight attendant again. His heart beat faster, his hands got sweaty. Her foot has stopped, and he slowly looked at her face, and his heart sank. She was staring right back at him, grinning broadly. She had, of course, seen everything.

Scrambling to cover himself, the woman couldn't help but laugh. After this, she kept looking back at Ian, licking and pursing her lips and crossing and uncrossing her legs, toying with his attention. Ian was helpless. Despite his best efforts and growing embarrassment, he kept looking at her. Registering her every move. His erection was back, yearning for him to touch it. When the attendant took off her shoes and placed them below her seat, his cock twitched. She twisted her toes and rubbed her feet, sore from the heels. Ian felt the beginning of a wet spot forming at the tip of his cock.

"Do you like the seat? Are you all comfortable there?" she asked with almost no accent.

"M-Me?" Ian stammered and pointed to himself. She nodded back at him. "I'm good... thanks," Ian answered, and suddenly the cabin felt very hot.

"I mean all the extra legroom, that is the best row. You can really stretch your legs here, right?" As she spoke, her legs stretched towards Ian, and she curled her toes seductively in front of him. Her toenails painted red were visible through the delicate fabric of her stockings.

"... yes, you can." Ian's answer not much more than a hoarse whisper.

"I can see that you are very alright. And the name is Julia. Enjoy your flight, mister?" She paused and waited for Ian to reply with his name. He was starting to sweat, small droplets forming on his forehead. He wiped them away before answering.

"Hill. I'm Ian Hill."

Just then, he was saved by the bell, or rather by the sound of the seat belt sign. When it turned off, Julia put her shoes back on and stood up. She flashed him a knowing smile before starting her duties, and Ian was left flustered and a little ashamed of how he seemingly had left all self-control behind in Boston. Outside the window, the light clouds over Boston passed by. He had barely registered their takeoff! Even if he had embarrassed himself, Ian had to admit that Julia's shapely legs were the best remedy for fear of flying he had ever tried.

Only a few minutes later, the narrow wagons were ready and being pushed down the aisle. First came a wagon with drinks, operated by a middle-aged male attendant, and second a wagon with dinner pushed by Julia. Ian ordered a glass of white wine, which was not that bad. Holding it in his left hand after tasting it, he needed a place to put it. The table was to his right, and he struggled to unfold it with just one hand when Julia stopped next to him.

"Chicken or beef, sir?" The inquiry interrupted Ian.

"Oh! Chicken, please," Ian said, losing the battle with the foldable table, and it slid back down.

"Are you alright, Mr. Hill? You look a little flustered," her voice full of compassion, but her eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I'm good," tried Ian, shifting in his seat. Still holding on to the wine.

"Let me get you something cold too." She turned to her colleague and ordered a glass of water, and passed it to Ian, who tried to take it with his other hand. But Julia pushed it way too hard towards him, and some of it spilled across his lap.

"Oh! So sorry, Sir!" Julia exclaimed, but Ian couldn't help but wonder if that little mishap really was an accident. She reached towards the trolley and grabbed a napkin, then proceeded to place it firmly against Ian's crotch, barely hitting the spot wet from the water.

"I, am, really, sorry, sir," she whispered, and with each word, her hand pressed against Ian and squeezed his hardening cock. Ian was trying hard not to moan. His eyes closed, and the sudden stimulation swept over him. With her hand still on his cock, she unfolded the table across his lap. She gave him a last squeeze and let go, leaving the napkin in place.

"All that trouble just because of me," she said in mock apology. Then placed a serving of the chicken on the now unfolded table and continued down the aisle. The reference clearly to something more than the little incident with the water. Ian's erection was still straining under the table when he finished eating his chicken.

Julia was away after that, busy with other passengers and duties, and finally, Ian got some rest. Closing his eyes, he passed in and out of sleep as the plane started to cross the Atlantic.

A few hours later, he awoke from his uneasy sleep. Half-awake, his brain kept replaying the events that had let him here. A once in a lifetime opportunity had come, and Ian grabbed it. This was the perfect chance to make a name for himself. If you wanted to be remembered in science, you have to be the first to study the new data. It didn't matter if you were the first person to look in a new telescope or the first one to set foot on new land. New data equaled new insights and new discoveries, and history remembered only the first. However, Ian's field of expertise had just this one problem: The was never anything new to study. Ancient and lost languages and texts were exciting beyond anything he had ever encountered. He could lose himself completely in it. But the lack of previously undiscovered tribes or newly uncovered writings of old had bothered him more and more the further he got in his studies. It didn't matter that he could interpret or translate all the already discovered texts faster than those who found them. There was nothing new there, and without a new source of information, Ian would never make his tiny dent in history.

But this had all changed! The shortage had ended. That was why he was now crossing the Atlantic. A few months earlier, a low-paid guard in the Angelica Library in Rome had, by a stroke of luck or perhaps by terrible misfortune, made an old statue topple over. The sculpture was insignificant, the stonework rough, and the features of the young woman it depicted were unflattering, to say the least. No, no one would miss it, and that might have been the end of that, but where the stone crashed into the marble tiles, a shaft was revealed, not wider than a person could exactly squeeze through. The passage led down below the floor of the old library. In the days that followed, the hidden chamber was explored and found to hold tomes in a mystical and altogether unknown script. Twenty-three books, to be precise. As the weight of the discovery was realized, the news quickly reached Amara Romano, who abandoned her sabbatical in Boston and with it the work she and Ian had been doing. When she hurried back to take part in the investigation, Amara had already been in discussion with the university about a professor position, and the discovery only accelerated their talks. Now Ian was flying to join her, as the initial attempts at reading and understanding the tomes had failed. Hopefully, he could help change that.

"Can't sleep?" Julia's smiling face was merely two feet away from Ian's when she interrupted his thoughts. The task of processing the simple question was small, but it was queued behind Ian taking in the beautiful sight and her intoxicating scent. Julia, however, didn't seem the least bothered by this and waited calmly.

"No, I was never any good at sleeping on p-planes," Ian replied, but dammit, why did he have to stammer again?

"So sweet, you really are smitten by me," Julia's whisper made Ian start to blush. She leaned in closer, put a hand on Ian's thigh for support, and whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry about early with the water. I just get so bored on these flights. You didn't seem to mind too much, though!" Julia could barely contain a giggle when she saw the telltale signs of an erection forming in Ian's pants. She confirmed what she had felt first-hand after the little water incident earlier. Even if he was a bit nerdy looking with the round glasses, he was hiding what promised to be a rather impressive cock in those pants.

"If you can't sleep, then come out here and have a little chat. I promise I won't bite... unless you want me to, of course," the words hang in the air as Julia headed away.

Flustered, Ian considered a detour to the lavatory. He was in desperate need of some alone time to clear his mind. Around him, almost everyone was asleep. Julia was standing with her back towards him, talking to a colleague, a blonde woman, maybe a little older. He took a decision and headed down through the aisle to the rear of the plane and the lavatories. It would be for the best, and release would hopefully make his mind work a little better when talking to Julia. He really wanted to give a good impression. He pushed at the first of the two doors, but it wouldn't budge. Then he saw the big 'out of order' sign plastered across it.

"Sorry! I really need to go," another passenger apologized as he entered the other lavatory and closed the door behind him.

Ian smiled at his bad luck. Then rationalized that jerking off on the plane was perhaps not the best idea after all and headed back towards his seat. Julia was still talking with the other flight attendant. As he came closer, the blonde woman saw him, gave a little grin, and hurried away, leaving Julia alone with him.

"There you are. Let me get a good look at you, now that you are standing up," Julia's eyes went up and down his body, "now spin around, please." Ian slowly turned, which gave a wonderful little laugh from Julia, "Sorry, it was just a joke! I promise no more teasing, but I do like how good you are at following orders." Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Of course, it had been a joke! Asking him to spin around for her, how could he have missed that? Embarrassed by not getting it, Ian tried to steer the conversation to safer waters, "your name was Julia, right?"

"Indeed it is, Julia Garon. A pleasure to meet you. So, Ian, why are you flying to Rome? To be honest, you don't look like the typical tourist."

"I'm actually moving to Rome. For now, I mean, I will go back again. It is just for six months," Ian stumbled through the words. For as long as he could remember, his mind had been scoring the eloquence of the things he said. This typically happened when he talked to women, especially ones he found attractive. His last sentence had come in with the worst score of this whole trip. Julia was again surprisingly unaffected.

"Oh, really? That is wonderful! I hope you will like it there."

"Do you live in Rome?"

That's better, Ian thought to himself, simple questions, you can do this.

"I do, but you know I travel a lot with work, obviously. But I always love coming back home! So why Rome?"

"I'm going to study the Angelica Texts."

"Really, and what are those?"

Grabbing at the polite interest, Ian started, "it is a really fascinating discovery of old tomes that were recently found below an old library floor. The floor of Angelica Library, hence the Angelica Texts. Maybe you have heard about it? It was quite the discovery. The texts might give a completely new view of Christianity or perhaps the history of Rome and the whole western civilization. It is so exciting. I mean, the language is completely new, so no one has seen anything like it. Professor Amara believes that I might have what it takes to decipher the texts. I might be the first person in hundreds of years to read this! Of course, the documents have been scanned, but for now, they haven't been shared at all." Ian spoke so fast the sentences almost blurred together.

"Slow down, old documents that nobody can read; you have a weird definition of exciting."

"Really, I mean..." Ian was not suddenly not feeling like talking about it at all anymore. How could she so effortlessly make him feel so stupid?

"I'm just joking. Please go ahead, but maybe a little slower this time?"

And so, Ian explained everything. From the tomes' discovery to Amara flying back to Italy, to their plan of him focusing solely on this, and Amara ensuring the support for his studies as best she could. He talked about how this was so secret he couldn't even have an initial look at the scanned texts. Ian was now flying to Italy for the very last part of his ph.d. project. He even told her about how the plan was only really known to him and Amara. Even if his dissertation was practically finished, they still used his last funding for this trip. Claiming the stay was focused on him writing up the things they had worked on. Julia, in turn, told about her life flying all over the globe. About how she loved seeing new places, and how every time she came back home, she fell in love with Rome all over. The quaint little cafés, hidden away down tiny alleys and the grandness of the historical buildings. She even liked how the rash and boisterous Italian men thought they could win her over by grand gestures and their unwavering self-confidence. Hinting to Ian that a genuine and honest guy, if a little shy, would stand a much better chance. Julia played with her hair, teasingly bit her lip, and kept glancing at Ian's crotch, all of it slowly but surely making Ian a little uncomfortable.

"Do you like Italian women?" the question caught Ian a little off guard, but he nodded and took a deep breath.

"At least the ones I have met."

"I like smart guys, especially ones smart enough to follow orders. Can you do that?" The sparkle of mischief from before was back in Julia's eyes.

"Erm, I think so..."

"Great! You see, we have this bet, me and Marine. The first one who gets a guy to give her his boxers wins. So please, can you do that for me? The one right here is free."

Julia stepped to the side and pointed to the lavatory behind her. Ian was just about to say something, but she just held up a finger, silencing him, and shook her head. Ian walked into the small enclosure, and Julia shot him an encouraging look before he closed the door behind him. Could he really do this? He began unbuttoning his pants and stopped. No, this was too crazy. But then again, what did he have to lose? If he refused, he was sure he would never see her again. Even if he played along, he probably wouldn't. Take a chance for once; you took one flying here, stick with it, he argued to himself. Then pushed down his pants and took both them and his grey boxers off. He pulled the pants back up and stepped out, clutching the pair of boxers in his hands, trying to hide them.