[This is a work of fiction. The story is an unadulterated and unabashed attempt to tickle male fantasies and perhaps some female fantasies as well. It is a fantasy and as such, the story may or may not conform entirely with reality. But isn't that the whole point of fantasies? With historical exceptions, all other locations, events, and characters are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]
I do not practice nor do I condone any of the sexual acts about which I write, other than straight, heterosexual relationships. Other than the fact that most other forms of sexual behavior are illegal, I still don't judge others for their sexual preferences except where such behavior is hurtful/harmful to others, such as pedophilia.
None-the-less, many people have FANTASIES of such taboo laden behavior to achieve sexual gratification or whatever, but have no intentions whatsoever of carrying out such behavior in actual practice. That said, if I have struck a particular fantasy of yours, read and enjoy.
Oscar Jameson ... male lead character-business man
Charlane Jordan ... female lead character-business exutive-VIP
Jess Chance ... female first cousin of Oscar and a Bradley University student
My plane left Paris an hour late. It was a nonstop, night flight to New York. We were on hold, apparently, for some late VIP's important enough to hold up an entire flight and screw up schedules. However, I wasn't particularly disturbed as I was in no real hurry. I also had plenty to do on my laptop, so the time passed fairly quickly for me.
My seat was next to the window just two rows back from the front entrance. A bustle of activity heralded the presence of our late arrivals. One particularly gorgeous piece of womanhood stepped through the door into the plane. She was followed by an entourage of assistants, two women and one male.
The lady in question appeared to be in her early to mid twenties. She was led to my row by the attendant and without hesitation, she slid in and plopped herself down in the middle seat next to me. One of her assistants dropped a pile of miscellaneous boxes in the aisle seat. The three assistants took a row of seats farther back in the plane.
"Hello, My name's Oscar."
No verbal response, just a haughty look.
Well, this has the makings of a long flight, I'm thinking.
The plane had by then reached the head of the runway and the pilot was spooling up the engines prepatory to take off. As the plane began it's takeoff roll, I noticed the lady hadn't yet fastened her seat belt. I reached between us and held up the end of the belt. In the process, I managed to accidentally brush against her upper left thigh.
She turned to glare at me, then took the belt and buckled up. I returned my attention to my laptop and ignored her. The plane reached takeoff velocity, rotated, and screamed into the air in a steep climb out, engines howling.
Over an hour into the flight, I closed my laptop with a sigh and leaned into the back of my seat. I closed my eyes and utterly relaxed into a light doze, my hands in my lap covering my computer.
I awoke from a hard thump and the lady next to me grabbing my right hand in a death grip. The seat belt sign was ringing away and the attendants were walking the aisle to reenforce the warning.
"We're entering an area of strong turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts," one of them said in our direction as she passed by.
"I'm frightened to death of this kind of thing," said a very scared voice of the lady beside me.
I secured my laptop and the lady released my other hand only to entwine her arm with mine in another death like grip. I held her hand.
"My name is Charlane. I'm sorry I was so nasty with you, but I thought you were just another shark trolling for another conquest."
The plane did another severe drop in a downdraft that would have lifted us from our seats but for the belts.
"Oh God," Charlane cried and cringed into me, burying her head on my shoulder and into my neck. The plane aided that move by shoving us into our seats and Charlane's face into me as it heaved upward in a severe updraft.
After another ten minutes or so of really bad air, we seemed to have passed through the worst of it and the plane ride smoothed out.
Charlane did not let go of me although she did loosen her grip enough to allow my circulation to resume. I lightly stroked her hand. It seemed to help calm her down.
"I'm sorry, sir, I just hate flying unless I absolutely have to. It scares me near to death."
"The name's Oscar, Charlane."
"And mine's Char to my friends. Please, call me Char."
"Do you fly often, Char?"
"Not, as I said, unless absolutely necessary."
"Where are you going on this holiday that made you fly this time?"
"My father is English, the Viscount of Saxton. My mother is American. She's in America now for her father's, my grandfather's, funeral. I was in school in Paris and am on my way to join my mother."
"Where's the funeral?"
"In a little rural town in Illinois. Not a lot of people are acquainted with it."
"I'm from Illinois. What town are you talking about?"
"Oh yes, the hometown of the author and poet, Carl Sandburg in his younger years. I'm well aware of it. My hometown is Peoria."
Char was still clinging to me. I liked the sensation.
"If I'm not being too nosey, what were you doing in Paris, Oscar?"
"I was doing an evaluation of the Paris office of my computer company. My company is headquartered in Dover, Delaware and my official home is there. But I'm on the go much of the time.
"You said your company. Do you just work for the company or do you own it?"
"Oh, it's my company. I'm not as big as Bill Gates, but I'm definitely gaining on him."
"Oh! So where are you going now?"
I'm headed for Peoria for Turkey and the trimmings with my parents. I've neglected them for three years now and they're letting me know about it."
"Then we might be traveling together?"
"If you are going to New York, then to Chicago, and then a commuter flight to Peoria, that would be quite possible. Would you like to travel together that far?"
"Oh, yes! I feel so safe with you around. I don't know why, but I just do."
"What, you have no boyfriends to escort you? What about your entourage that came aboard with you?"
"Oh, my assistants are just "Yes" people interested in their salary, not me. And yes, plenty of boys are sniffing around my skirts, but that's just what they are, boys. They're only after one thing. Well, maybe two."
"And what would that be, Char?"
"They either want to get into my pants or my purse or both. What about you, Oscar, any girlfriends or a wife?"
"No, I'm a twenty-nine year old bachelor. I wine and dine with the girls, but nothing serious or permanent. All they want to do is get into my pants or my purse."
We both laughed.
"You know my age, but you never told me yours."
"Do I have to?"
"No, you don't."
"In that case, I'll tell you. I'm twenty-four."
We rode on in amiable silence. It wasn't long before Char released her grip on me and dropped her hand onto my thigh. She lazily rubbed it up and down in short strokes, getting ever closer to what lay at the apex of my thighs. In the darkened cabin, it wasn't likely we'd be discovered if we kept things easy and discreet.
"Trying to get into my pants, are you?"
"Honestly? Yes. I get so horny after a frightening experience."
We both chuckled.
"How 'bout my 'purse'? Are you trying to get into that too, Char?"
"Don't need it, I've got my own."
"Once in my pants, if you get in, are your intentions honorable?"
"That I don't know yet. Depends some on your intentions. Are they honorable?"
"I don't know yet either. But there's a strong possibility they are."
Char's hand moved up and onto my package. My cock had grown slowly harder as she worked my thigh. I had a full boner on by the time she landed on my cock. She felt its length and raised an eyebrow.
I've not got the longest nor the biggest cock on the block, but I do have more than enough to satisfy any woman, at least so far. I didn't think Char would have any problem with that either.
An attendant passed by and I asked for two blankets. When they arrived, Char and I each took one covered up. The flight still had slightly over three hours left. Plenty of time.
"To ally suspicion, let's pretend to doze a bit, Char."
Within ten minutes, Char's hand crept under my blanket and found my dick again. She tried to unzip me, but couldn't quite get the job done. I did it for her. With some difficulty, she pulled out my rigid boner and proceeded to slowly stroke it.
"Oh," she whispered, "I like your natural, uncut cock."
"I'm rather attached to it myself," I replied.
Char giggled but she continued her slow stroking. I could feel the tension building in my cock and balls. She undoubtedly felt the final expansion of my shaft that preceded the explosion of cum that followed. The blanket, her hand, and my pants received a sticky baptism of white cream. After it deflated, I managed to stuff my dick back into my pants and zip up.
Char wiped her hand as best she could on my blanket and retreated under her own blanket.
"I could use a little relief myself, Oscar. Would you like to do the honors?"
.... There is more of this story ...