tagHumor & SatireLeaving on a Jet Plane

Leaving on a Jet Plane


The bag slid from my shoulder and was gone. I thought I was being mugged! It startled me and I reached for it. A hand darted out and caught my wrist. I pulled back as if I had been shocked, but the hand did not release me. The grip was firm, not painful. It sent a buzz all through my body.

"I'll get that."

The face held deep dimples and bright blue eyes. The smile was mischievous.

I didn't pull away. He released me and walked away toward the end of the TSA line which I had just traversed. I stood for a few seconds, my mouth hanging open, stunned to see him there. I watched as he pivoted into the men's restroom.

My backpack pushed at people as I tried to zigzag in the wrong direction. Finally, I ducked under the black tape, apologizing to everyone I had mown down and flummoxed at letting my back walk away without me.

I stood at the entrance of the men's room, debating whether I should charge in and smack him for his stunt. My bag dangled from a bodiless hand at the end of the wall.

"Coming?" echoed down the hallway.

I ran in, keeping my eyes down, trying not to notice the row of men standing at the urinals. He held the computer bag out to me as he walked backwards to the end of the row of stalls.

"That's mine!"

He stopped abruptly and advanced, corralling me into the handicapped stall. His arm wrapped around my waist and he backed me up against the wall, sat down on the seat facing me and his head was under my skirt before I knew it.

I felt a tug as he ripped out the crotch of my panties and starting licking. I caught my breath, bit my lip, tried not to moan and lost that fight.

Seconds later, he reached down and tugged at my ankle. My heel was wedged into the handicapped helper bar. I grabbed for the top of the wall, clawing at it for a moment before I let the backpack slide down my arm and fall to the floor so I could hold on.

He wasn't a man of many words but his actions spoke volumes...

I tried to push his head away so I could think, let alone speak, but he wrapped his arm under and around my lifted thigh and slid his fingers inside me.

"Fuck...." I tried to keep my voice low but from outside the stall I heard people pausing. The men's room had gone completely silent. " I ....I have...to go-ohhh shit!" His tongue was circling, flicking all across the little nub making it impossible for me to finish a sentence, let alone create a new one. I tried to pull my leg away but there was nowhere to go. He just pressed it further up into my chest and spread me wider.

I heard myself shudder and almost let a moan escape when he moved his fingers inside me. The leg I balanced on began to get rubbery. There was no way I could do this much longer.

I felt sweat breaking out on my face and began to breathe shallowly, still trying to remain as quiet and hidden as possible. I was thankful when new noises started up in the restroom.

I prayed for flushing toilets to cover up the noises I know I make when I come, but unless a 747 plowed into the building that there would be no way to divert attention from this situation.

The quieter I tried to be the harder he worked me over.

His tongue was warm and wet. He would take long slow licks, dragging his tongue across my clit, the friction was maddening, then flick it or sometimes circle it several times. His fingers slid in and out, slowly, rhythmically and I tried to squeeze them tight but he would stop stroking and begin to wiggle as though he were beckoning me to cry out.

I closed my eyes and gave up, resting my back against the cold tile wall which made my nipples stand out like marbles. I opened my eyes briefly and looked into a hazel eye staring back at me through the narrow crack. I held the gaze and rolled my hips against his face.

I was making noise now. Deep breaths and low moans were escaping. They got louder as he sucked harder, flicking my clit from side to side and pumping his fingers deeper into me. I pushed my hips farther forward and made a raspy sound. It was as close as I could come to a laugh at the moment. The toilet he was sitting on flushed continuously.

I was so close. I rose onto the tips of my toes feeling the tension build; that little tickle that starts in your belly then floods through every fiber. I was shaking. I must have been making more noise than I thought because he released my leg and fought his way out from under the skirt to cover my mouth with is hand.

Standing, he leaned close. His fingers still twitching inside me, he kissed me hard. His beard was wet with me and I sucked his tongue deep into my mouth tasting myself.

I heard his zipper slide down, felt him pull out his fingers and moaned loudly when he slid inside me.

All I could say was fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.... The toilet was flushing continuously now. I grabbed his sticky fingers and sucked them, looking for something else to help muffle the stream of words and grunts flowing from me.

He pulled my hips far forward. I was suspended, hanging from one arm, braced against the tile wall with the other; my foot beginning to slip down the support bar.

He pulled out and yanked me forward. I spun around and did a face plant against the wall as he curled both of my hands over the wall. I held tight. The sweat on my back was cool as he exposed my ass and shoved himself back in my pussy. I arched as far as I could, trying to find a way to get him deeper inside. I lifted my foot to the seat of the toilet and felt my shoe slide from my foot. It landed in the bowl. Fuck it. I didn't care.

He puffed and grunted. One arm wrapped around my body and pinched my nipples rolling them back and forth. Then it clawed at my skirt, bunching it up and reaching between my thighs.

The smacking of our skin sounded like one person clapping. Please god, please god, please god, let me loose my voice, let everyone be struck deaf, let there be a sonic boom... I looked toward the door of the stall, which was now rattling with every stroke, and a light blue eye stared back.

I came, right then, with a man I hardly knew fucking me standing up in the handicapped stall of the Men's Room in the San Francisco Airport and a total stranger watching him do it.

The tickle started behind my knees, probably, because my legs were so tense. It traveled up the insides of my thighs, up over my chest and exploded in my belly. I convulsed and my hands slid off of the divider. He stepped back pulling my hips hard against himself and groaned.

I rested my face on my arms, wiping the sweat away. Trying to figure out what I should say now that some sense was returning to my brain. I couldn't think of anything so instead I pulled away and took him in my mouth.

The floor was cold under my knees but his cock was warm in my mouth. I sucked it into my mouth and started pumping slowly. It was still slippery from my cum and slid easily. I closed my mouth tighter and sucked just the head, flicking him with my tongue, just as he had me, right at the little cleft. He slid his fingers through my hair and pulled me tight to him. I could feel him in my throat and it made my pussy spasm.

He tugged my hair gently, pulling my mouth away. I leaned forward to catch his cock in my mouth again but he took my chin and lifted my face. "You have to go. You'll miss your plane."

He helped me to my feet, shook the water out of my shoe, kissed me then unlocked the stall door and closed it behind him. I did my best to make myself presentable and opened the door. Walked to the sinks, sliding slightly each time I stepped with the wet shoe, washed my hands and splashed water on my face.

I heard murmurs at the urinals and looked over innocently with what I hoped was a shocked expression on my face. I shouldered my computer bag and back pack, dried my hands, threw the paper towel away and cued up for the TSA line....again.

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