It all started with a simple Scotch and water on the rocks in a moment of careless relaxation. The big man with the black-framed glasses was unsure about it but the look in the cabin hostess eyes looked at him as if expecting him to order "Ginger Ale" or some such candy-ass drink and he wanted desperately to disappoint her for his own satisfaction.
James "Jimmy" Thornton hadn't had a Scotch and water since the old days back in Southeast Asia and the Scotch was mostly the Japanese shit and not "Johnny Walker" or some top-rated brand. This was a top of the list "Black Label" and it tasted like pure gold going down. The old lady across the aisle looked at him with pinched nostrils looking over the top of her glasses like some crazed schoolteacher on speed searching for some student to teach proper discipline to. He could picture her standing over some sobbing schoolboy with his pants pulled down and his bare ass red from her lessons.
The demure Asian schoolgirl sitting next to him was attached by an umbilical cord to the hulking guy with the window seat who was so nervous about the fact he was actually flying in the air that he hadn't opened his eyes since the noisy take-off. The seatbelt light was already off but he kept his on as if he was afraid of a head on collision with another plane. The girl was wearing one of those inexplicable short Japanese schoolgirl skirts that seemed to end right at her panty edge. He had been concentrating on keeping his eyes away from that special treat especially since he was already in his mid-forties and the girl couldn't have been more than eighteen.
The hostess was also Asian but he could tell from her facial characteristics she was Korean and not Japanese and that was entirely understandable since the airline was of Korean ownership. The hostess outfits were a lot more conservative than the schoolgirl skirt but they were so tight that it was simple to see most of the girls working the cabin were without any underwear at all.
The movie was some silly comedy with a pair of buffoons who were probably making a lot more money than he was furnishing security services to the corporate types that found living in the Far East to their liking. The plane dropped unexpectedly and his drink spilled a little bit right on the Japanese girl's bare leg and her tiny skirt. He immediately used the napkin to sop up the excess and tried to dry the edge of her skirt before it penetrated the material. Of course, he had to lift it up a bit to do so and exposed her pink panties which were so thin and sheer that he could see how she had carefully trimmed a nice little landing strip right down to the top edge of her hairless pussy like she had probably seen in the American magazines read voraciously by the young Japanese girls.
He had half expected her to be pissed off by his spilling the drink but she just bowed her head and smiled up at him to show her appreciation for his efforts to put her back to normal. Now he really felt like a pervert because he had the urge to show the young lady some tricks he had learned that the Japanese masseuse had assured him Japanese girls secretly adored. He was not quite certain she was pulling his leg or was deadly serious but he had a lot of fun learning the technique.
She cupped her hand and whispered up in his ear.
"My name is Yoko and the gentleman next to me is my driver, Mister Osaka. He works for my father and is a very strong man with a sworn duty to protect me from harm. I think he is not happy with the flying. This is his first time and he has taken some pills that will keep him calm until we land. I must go to the lavatory now to tend to my business. Am I permitted to cross body? I fear the space is so tight that I must touch your legs to do so and I do not want you to think I am too forward to take such a liberty."
I looked down at her beautiful face with absolutely not a trace of cosmetics and gave her my consent with a nod of my head. She rose and I saw that the skirt was as short in the back and that her delicate teenage buttocks were a bit damp from sitting so long in one place. When she exited our space the back of her thighs and even the bottom part of her cheeks brushed my knees with exciting contact that sent a little shiver up my spine and hardened my big boy into an agitated state of readiness. She was right about the driver. He was out for the flight and it was blessing in disguise.
When she walked with a sensual sway to the back of the plane to find a stall, I could not help but notice she was put together like one of those sleek Italian racing cars that cost a small fortune to purchase and even more to maintain.
.... There is more of this story ...