Transformation by Trials Ch. 03

Transatlantic long-haul flights with a stop can be pretty tedious if not for books. On my way out, I had read a couple of pieces from my tablet; pretty steamy stories about me, Srila, written by my boyfriend, Chuck. This trip was different. I was inadvertently shoved into a midlife dreamland.

I was just returning from a visit with my grown-up children, in their twenties now, steadily settling down in the USA. They were good kids and had their priorities chalked out and working hard towards commendable and realistic goals. Those were happy moments with them for a mom in her forties.

Yet, there were other happenings that left indelible and sensual fragments in my memory. I met both my ex-husband and my boyfriend unexpectedly and had encounters with them that stirred my rather peaceful singleton life. There was something churning deep inside me that was not there before this trip and it consumed my time with frank introspection.

That is what I did throughout the first flight and the layover in between. Yes, I had sex with both men; not planned at all but occurred as events rolled along. Again, I was not one known for being forward or active in that department. I tend to be slow and measured.

Flights Fantasies and an Outrageous Incident

People that know me, are aware that I am pretty ordinary and non-flamboyant. I tread the regular path and not one for overt display of emotion. My partners also will vouch that I am not very forward or adventurous but I do play along. Given that background, my current disposition was delicately disquieting.

I was not only thinking about the men I was with on this trip but I was reliving some of the more starkly intimate events. I could feel their hard bodies against mine, the erotic man aroma, their hot breaths through warm lips, their arousal as a response to me and me to them. I even walked back the positions and the way they felt inside me. Why, I even pondered and regretted some things that we didn't do! The doggie thing that I liked, I missed.

The man in his fifties seated next to me, introducing himself as Ed, and on the way to Doha, was making small talk. After I told him that I had gone to see the kids, he asked me if I was a single mom and I nodded. Did they even use that term for moms of kids in their twenties? He then semi whispered that I had nice eyes. I would have brushed that aside as a random hit line but this time I did think a bit more about it. He capped that query with a gentle guiding touch on my hip when I crossed him to get to the isle. I found myself wanting him to touch me again when I came back and was disappointed that he didn't! He was traveling to Amsterdam from Doha and we even spent some time grabbing a snack which I think was unconsciously manoeuvred by me at the stop over. When we parted, I was looking for a hug that didn't happen and I was plunged into my own frustration driven amorous thoughts again. He was older but was tall, attractive and well-groomed, with a polished style of conversation. I started imagining rerouting and joining him to Amsterdam and sitting in one of those romantic hotels with a balcony over the canals. We would sip tea absorbing the busy activity below and the aroma of the rippling water while we flushed our veins with undisclosed anticipation. Yes, he would pull me back to the room, take off my clothes with refined gentleness. I would help him with coy hesitation. His eyes would burn over my body invoking a large crop of goose bumps. He would express admiration with dignified words even when appreciating my most private areas. His arousal lifted me even higher. He would make love to my whole body and soul that was both fervent and passionate. Being the big Caucasian, I knew he would be well endowed and I imagined he didn't disappoint. There was something primitively exhilarating with having sex with a random stranger. He would even turn me around and have me from behind, pummeling me with the kind of energy that would give me a rare vaginal orgasm! I was getting carried away. Was I ever into those fantasies before? Never!

Yet, I was going to experience something that I would never imagine in my wildest dreams!

I pulled myself back to reality with a moralistic haul of my deviant virtual neck. I was going back home and I needed to be myself; my real self. There was my old world to face and my career to continue and hopefully develop. I went to one of the restrooms to change into a skirt discarding my jeans. That's what I did usually when I fly into the warm climes. That innocuous and innocent change of attire had dramatically significant consequences!

The second leg of my journey, however heaved me back to the memories of happenings that might well be life changing. My seat neighbour was uninteresting this time. My mind was flitting too much to read, even though I had an unopened book and some stuff on Kindle on my tablet. There was huge appreciation from many of the way I looked, I thought. Looking good and being admired was always a nice thing and something we all strive to achieve. Some of what I had was god given and I can't claim any credit except for the tiny bit of maintenance that I carried out like basic cosmetic care. I needed not much more, given the face and figure I was blessed with. A sliver of vanity crept into me and I toyed with the idea of making myself look even more sexier than I guessed I already was. I looked around the cabin at people that walked by and compared myself to some of them and the way they dressed and carried themselves. I noticed some areas where I could emulate them if I had the courage.

A woman seated in front of me rose to get to the aisle and I noted her rather sexy butt. She was ethnically like me but a bit larger. When she turned she had that upper cleavage peeking seductively at the bottom of her shirt neck. I never did that and hey, why not? It is what everybody did these days even the middle-aged ones. My boobs were big enough to display a good cleavage and without making it outrageous I can make it deliciously desirable. I could even pad my butt to make it more attractive. Suddenly exciting possibilities of enhancing my appearance danced secretly in my mind.

A weeks before my trip, a dapper, wealthy tycoon called Harsha Krishna had befriended me and was making some small talk through chats which was at worst slightly annoying. I cut him off when he sent a picture of him in a skimpy pair of shorts with an obscene crotch bulge. There was also a warning bell that tinkled deep within; it said don't lose all that you built as a spotless character of grace and chastity. Yeah, right! Bloody rubbish!

The flight from Doha to Chennai was overnight and after wine and dinner we were all tucked in with the lights dimmed. I threw the blanket over me and made myself comfortable. I shut my eyes and all I could think of was the unplanned passionate physical encounters with the two men; the only ones I really knew and were now referred to in the past tense. I recollected granular details like the first episode with my ex-hubby when I had sex, a bit rushed with my bra on. While he was turned on quickly, even too fast, my other guy couldn't get it up and I had to try everything in the book and my mouth to get him going.

My erotic thoughts got me impassioned and my hand crept down between my thighs. I found my core and started gently making myself happy. I had my movements well covered under the blanket. However, after a while, I felt like letting myself go freely in private and I thought I will use the toilet.

That lead to the most shockingly unusual but bizarrely exciting occurrence in my entire life!

Walking from my aisle seat I reached the toilets and found both occupied. I stood in the tiny space next to an emergency exit and a young dude joined me standing behind. The folks in there were taking their time and the guy got chirpy.

"You studying in the US?" Again, an unsolicited compliment of my apparent youth! I wasn't sure how he knew where I began my journey.

"No. I was just visiting family." I felt awkward to burst his bubble (and mine) by saying my kids were in their twenties. "And you? Visiting Chennai?"

"No, I am going there, like, to study." I couldn't place where he was from by either his appearance or accent. "I saw you at Dulles and at Doha." That explains it, I thought. So, he was kind of stalking?

"Oh, so you are from Washington?" I asked.

"No but like, close. And your family live there?"

"No. I was... was visiting a friend." Was I giving away too much to a stranger?

"Yeah I saw him dropping you off." My gosh! Chuck hugged and kissed me at the kerb. The guy gave me a knowing look. He then switched topics. "What is Chennai like?"

I gave him an elaborate overview of the weather, culture, people and stuff to do. He was thankful and we broke into a discussion on various cities in the US and India.

He was quite a charming person and even in the dim lights his likable personality stood out. I carefully dodged his queries on how I will be managing alone in Chennai suggesting subtly that company was available. There was a hint that he wanted to hook up with me as a friend but I blocked that with stoic silence.

We actually got chatting without realizing that we were waiting to use the toilet!

The toilet door across the galley opened and the occupant got out. Unseen to us another man was standing behind the curtains on that side and he slipped in. I started going there and stopped.

"Oh, there are like, two lines?" He laughed. "But this is a chance to chat longer with a charming lady."

"Hmm." I mumbled. "Sometimes long flights allow conversations." I was not sure he understood that I was being strictly noncommittal but he still flashed a victorious smile.

The toilet close to me also became vacant. I slipped in and I saw this guy move behind me. Just as I went in and was closing the door a foot slipped into the crack and a hand pulled the door open. A quick glance both ways and this youngster stuffed himself behind me in the little toilet space! He wore an odd smile and I was more shocked than terrified. Suddenly the fruity aroma of the air freshener was suffocating.

I made a move to open the door. He held my hand tight. He then flipped the lock and the light came on. He stood against it with a malevolent grin. That was when I saw him clearly. He was about five nine and looked half African with short stylishly trimmed curly hair. He was good looking. Or maybe it was me in that mood of mine that dragged everything in pants into a zone of attractiveness.

I got real. "What are you doing? I'll call the steward!" I threatened.

"Listen to me!" He whispered. "I was watching you all along from Washington. We both want, like, the same thing."

"What? Let me out. I'll scream!" My arms were in front of me with elbows bent in defence and my palms faced him in defiance. He held my wrists in a vice like grip and leaned on me. He nibbled my ear lobe and then ran both his palms simultaneously down my side; from my armpits, brushing the sides of me breasts, right down over my hip and to my upper thighs and back up and then down again. He kept kissing both my earlobes in turn. I struggled to move my head away in both directions.

"What's your name?" He whispered.

"Don't want to tell you."

"You are incredibly beautiful!" One more compliment! He kept rubbing my sides and kissing my ears and occasionally touched his warm lips on my neck. It was uncomfortably ticklish. His hands now cupped the sides of my boobs bordering on molestation.

"Please! Let me go. Leave me. Did anyone see you come in? This is illegal!" I exhaled with a blend of fear and excitement.

"No one saw me and everyone is asleep. Relax! Take it easy. I am not forcing you!" His palms went into caressing mode and actually did a good job of calming me down. "So, What's your name? I am Gerrard."

"Why? I am Sheila." I blurted out the first name that came to my head. "Let me go, will you? We'll get into trouble"

"Easy. Call me Gerry. I saw you and observed your body language with that man in Doha, you were trying to like, seduce him, weren't you? You had just said 'bye to your other guy!"

"What rubbish!" I put my hands on his chest and tried to push him away. He was too strong and his lips and hands were making my knees weak[TT1]. Were my intentions so damn obvious? Was I that transparent? I guess I knew where he was coming from. He saw me bidding goodbye to Chuck in Washington and then I was chatting animatedly with Ed in Doha.

Am I being raped? I had never been! I eyed the red panic button on the panel next to me.

Now his arms went around me and pulled me to him. I was squashed against his torso from chest to thighs. His palms stopped the walk down my back and gently kneaded my waist. I couldn't deny that my resistance was slipping. He went up to my shoulder region and worked downwards. His face turned towards me and he laid a soft kiss on my cheek. He smelt good. I realized my extreme vulnerable state was pushing me to the edge. Quite honestly, my resistance was only a moralistic pretence hiding my latent desires that had been sparked recently.

It was such a dramatic moment in my life that my head abruptly went blank. My arms fell by my side and my hitherto tense spine relaxed. I was breathing deep. I felt the thumping in my chest. It felt louder than the rumble of the engines. I was limp.

He grabbed that moment to do a few things all at once. He moved his lips from my cheeks to my mouth and gently captured my supple lips, while his hands moved down to my butt and lifted my skirt to feel me over my panties and simultaneously quite expertly lifted one thigh to hitch it up to my crotch.

Oh my god, I thought. What made me change out of those pants? Skirts are so easy. If I don't resist he is going to violate me completely!

He broke the kiss and I pleaded. "This is dangerous. It is not allowed. Someone will catch us!"

"Just take it easy Sheila. Enjoy this moment. You are such a sexy woman. I know you are liking this."

"Oh, my god!" I exclaimed before he planted a passionate kiss to squash my words. One hand was still on my ass as he very gently worked his way under my panties. The other hand ventured to my boobs and massaged me searching for my waiting nipple. The clothes felt like an irritating hinderance though I made a feeble and insincere effort to shove him aside. The most arousing act was when he effected imperceptible movements of his thigh to rub my core. Even with my lips sealed in a kiss, an audible 'Ah!' escaped involuntarily.

Then the most disconcerting moment came. He quickly moved his hand from my bare butt to the front and ran his palm up and down on my genital mound! A reflex flexion of my hip to move away was only a momentary escape. I went back willingly to his wonderful fingers, one of which was doing a delicate trudge through my central crevice. The height of embarrassment was my wetness. He didn't miss it.

"You are beautifully soaked!" He gloated. Only I knew that some of it was there before I came to the toilet. I was here to masturbate! Whatever it may be, I was a goner!

He was wearing something like track pants and he quickly brought it down. I felt his manhood somewhere down there.

"Can you suck me?" It sounded like a rough command. I shook my head vigorously.

"No!" I enunciated the word unequivocally. I couldn't do oral without a connection. He seemed to accept my refusal.

He picked the hem of my shirt and drew it up. "Let me kiss your boobs. They look nice."

To be honest I a tiny part of me wanted that but my hands held his and pulled my shirt down. "I can't take off my clothes here. Please let go."

He let go but instead he swivelled himself and sat on the toilet seat shoving me in front of him with both hands on my hips, lifted my skirt and lowered my undies that were partially down anyway and looked at me! His mouth flew to my nether lips even before I knew it.

My hand that went to push him away with pseudo modesty, froze in midair. He made love to me with his lips and tongue in a way I knew not. This guy is some kind of expert seducer! I almost swooned in heightened sexual awakening. He withdrew to utter: "You are heavenly. You smell so good!" He continued and I covertly hoped he wouldn't stop. His actions down there were not one of a novice. He hit the perfect spots with the optimal amount of pressure and purpose. His tongue moved with educated precision.

Deep breathing seized my body with my hips shoved into his face. "Oh god!" I thought I shrieked and suddenly reality dawned and my hand landed on his head with a hint of weak resistance. "Gosh we are going to get caught. There may be someone waiting outside!" I panted.

"There won't be anyone. Can you blow me?" This time his request was with a hint of politeness.

"I said no. Just... just do me. I mean... just... I want..." My voice trailed away. I was asking for sex from a stranger! What had become of me?

He forced me around to switch places and I found myself sitting on the covered toilet seat and he in front of me. His erect penis waved itself quivering with arousal in front of me. His circumcised enraged and glistening pink tip gawked straight in my face. I covered my eyes with my hands and pondered the universal cliché. Does size matter? It does when it is too large, I often noted. "Please, suck me. You'll like it." This time he was pleading.

I shook my head in refusal without a word and stood up. He understood and pulled my right thigh to land my foot on the seat. I pulled my panties further down to help my leg up. After all I had asked him to do it in no uncertain terms.

"Turn your right knee like, outwards," he suggested and as I felt his tip touching me down there and separating my lips, he continued with some authority, "and roll your hip forward; push against me." Yes, he was well versed in this and maybe even had experience in tiny toilets, because he slipped in gloriously. I felt my pelvis was full of him. Then he moved and there was some pain but the longing for my vagina to be filled with flesh overcame that with bliss. All fear of being caught slipped away. His hip movements were so fluid and measured that I did not want him to stop. "You have such a big cunt," he praised, "and you are so hot and smooth inside!" Was I really big down there? He was as hot and smooth for me as well.

He started groaning with each stroke and I felt obliged to reciprocate. "Oh, what are you doing to me?" I cried. Actually, tears of confusion welled up in my eyes. "Oh god!" I exclaimed. His groans shifted up the scale to high pitched squeals of joy. He sounded much younger; cute!

"Of fuck! I am cumming! You are so fucking good!" He hissed. No sooner he said that, his body went rigid in that pre-ejaculation stiffness and breath holding and then those sweet spasms of squirting hot love fluid into me. I responded with false jerks myself. They were long and many and with the last spurt, I felt a glorious trickle down my left thigh.

He pulled out and I had a millisecond of withdrawal blues. He bent down picking up some tissue and wiping my thigh upwards right up my wet crotch. He gently cleaned me with exaggerated thoroughness. I felt like doing the same. I too picked up some tissue and wiped his penis that still shone cheerfully with our shared wetness. He was still turgid and caring for him was pleasurable.

He continued to wipe me and then with his bare fingers! It felt good and my massaging him was having an effect on him. "Do you want to fuck again?" He asked looking at my blushed face.

"No, no! It's dangerous. We better go." I panicked that I was going to be pushed again. I quickly pulled up my panties and straightened skirt.

He nudged me aside to lift the toilet seat and peed. I watched that part of him that gave me joy, with curious fascination. I felt like I needed to pee as well.