Virgin Air
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2015 by Write or Wrong

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Phil was a nineteen year old virgin on a trip home to see old friends. Little did he realize the trip was going to be an exploration of sexual discovery with a beautiful guide to share the journey. Authors Note: This story is based on the true experience of one of my readers. It has been altered and added to, but is rooted in reality. He asked me to add, "Thank you Lana, wherever you are, for the experience of a lifetime. I hope you remember our time together as fondly as I do."

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   True Story   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Petting   Cream Pie   Public Sex   Slow  

In the winter of 1993 the clouds held the city in a wet embrace as they emptied their contents over the nation's Capitol. A stiff wind jarred the walkway making the line sway in place as we shifted towards the plane. The line went in stops and starts, like so many lines in the airport. I set down my bag and took off my brown leather bomber jacket, knowing there would not be much space once we made it into the plane.

The walkway had windows, opaque with the fall of night and rain. The reflection showed a tall athletic young man, dressed in black, with short brown hair and sharp green eyes staring out of a pale face. Over the past year I had whipped myself into shape physically, but at 19 I was still haunted by the fat boy I had been most of my life.

As I entered the DC-10 a cold breeze slipped by the door bringing in the crisp early evening air, alive with scents and sounds of the tarmac, to the climate controlled, canned air of the plane. The stewardess looked at my ticket stub and directed me to the right aisle of the immense plane. Her forced smile told me that this would be a long flight.

After shuffling through one more line of passengers I finally found myself at my row and now it was my turn to take up the aisle as I manhandled my black nylon duffle bag and coat into an overhead compartment. Then I gratefully took my aisle seat, 28G, and pulled the walkman and a book from my backpack stowed at my feet.

I looked around the cabin as I put a cassette tape into the small stereo. Passengers continued to trickle into the cabin, taking seats, storing luggage, saying stressed hellos to the people they were forced to share the next five hours of their lives with.

A few rows in front of me a short elderly couple, wearing outdated gold leisure suits, struggled with their Christmas shopping bags, trying to put them in an already full compartment. Before the bag could be crushed a young woman behind them offered to put the bags in a compartment two seats up. While his wife sat down, the old man stood watching the young woman put the bags away. He wasn't the only man watching the attractive brunet. As she stretched, my eyes followed her white knit sweater as it rode up her supple body revealing a well tanned, flat stomach, and the lacy top of her black stretch pants.

After the old man said thank you for the tenth time he sat down and I, with most of the men and a few women along the aisle watched the curve of her full ass and the lines of her legs as she stood on the tiptoes of her black cowboy boots to put her own long leather coat in the compartment. I felt my face flush as I watched the way her breasts bounced when she slammed the compartment knowing she must not be wearing a bra.

The plane came alive with movement as people tried to look busy when she turned back down the aisle. I was scanning the pages of my book with one eye and trying to watch her with my other. My heart skipped a beat when she stopped next to me and asked, "Is this twenty-eight H?"

"Uh ... yeah. Sure is." I said turning off the tape and stood up smiling. She brushed by me into her seat by the window, placed her black leather purse between her feet, and finally sat back with a sigh. As I sat back down I could smell the scent of apples from her long, dark hair. A chill ran up my spine. I tried to think of something to start a conversation with, settling on, "Running late?"

"Mmm. My flight from New York was delayed so I just made it." As if on cue, the door to the gate closed with a whoosh of air and I felt my ears pop as they pressurized the cabin. The engines kicked into a low whine as they warmed up.

My new seatmate looked over, giving me my first chance to study her face. Her features were unencumbered by makeup. Together they contained an undeniable exotic beauty. She had high cheekbones, a thin tapered nose that curled ever so slightly up at the end, dark sculpted eyebrows, a high forehead, full lips and tanned skin the color of peaches and cream. She smiled at me, a smile that did not reach her large sea-blue eyes. But even that limited smile was enough to make my heart pound again.

I tried to smile back and replied, "I think everything is late tonight. I almost didn't make it myself. Um, do you fly out of here a lot?"

"Not out of here, but I fly often. And you?"

"I used to fly a lot, but this is my first time out of Washington in years." I noticing she was relaxing a bit, and did not want the conversation to end. "Do you live in New York?"

"No L.A. But I've been working some in New York so I'm flying back and forth for now. I should be used to it, but it still makes me a little nervous."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

A shudder passed through the cabin as the plane was pushed back from the gate. The lights dimmed and the safety video came on the screen in the front of the cabin. I paid little attention to the video, having heard it so many times I could recite it from memory. Instead I tried to think of something else to ask my neighbor, but nothing came readily to mind. Finally the video ended and stewardesses were making their last rounds to see if everyone was buckled in.

All this time the woman next to me, I still didn't know her name, glanced at me off and on. I could still feel my heart beating fast and my hands shake a little.

She noticed this and took my hand in hers and gave it a quick squeeze. Her skin was soft. Those hands had never done a hard day's labor, but they were skilled as I would find out later. Returning my hand to the armrest she reassured me saying, "Hey, there's nothing to worry about."

"Oh, I know." I said, not wanting to sound nervous. Unfortunately the tremor I felt had nothing to do with the plane, and everything to do with my inexperience with women.

She positioned the little pillow that was in her seat and leaning against the window, settling in for a nap. With a last glance over her shoulder and a brief smile, she leaned against the window with her eyes closed and left me alone with my thoughts.

I put my headphones back on and turned on the tape. Soon R.E.M.'s "Radio Song" was playing. My book, all but forgotten, remained closed as the plane finally revved its engines and started accelerating down the runway. Pressed back in the seat I looked out the window at the lights flying by and then felt the plane leap into the air. My eyes lingered, not on the window, but on the woman next to it. Who was she?

For the rest of this story, you need to Log In or Register