Chapter 8

I looked at my food tray. They gave me the bread alright, but there was no butter, only a plastic knife. And for the soba noodles, no soba dipping sauce was given. How was I to butter my bread and dip the soba? I turned to look at the 50-year-old man on the opposite side of the plane. It seemed like he knew what he was doing. What I saw then redefined my idea of perverse acts. He had removed the girl’s top and was now using the slice of bread to clean her underarms, smearing her underarm sweat and odour all over the bread. He did it with both of her underarms before putting the slice of bread into her pants.

James: Holy fuck...

I quickly looked away. My heart was in my mouth at the realisation of what the instructions meant. Butter the bread, the instructions said. It didn’t say butter with what. That, I assumed, was up to our imagination. I adjusted the erection in my pants. My penis was really throbbing hard at that point. I needed to butter the piece of bread with Simin, but the question was from where? Where could I get butter from such a beautiful woman’s body? Where would the butter be the most fragrant? Should I butter the bread with her breasts? Should I rub the soft slice of bread all over her nipples, allowing her unique love-pillow scent to permeate into the bread? Or should I do it like what my fellow passenger did, buttering it up with Simin’s pussy-butter. No matter which I chose, it was still going to require a sick and perverse act. I pressed the button on the armrest and pushed Simin’s seat back, putting it at an incline. I pushed it down as far as I could.

Simin: Mmmh...

I swallowed a gulp of saliva when I saw the vulnerable state she was in. My left hand went to Simin’s thighs and I gently nudged them apart. They opened up easily, welcoming the warmth of my palm. I gasped. Just staring at the crotch area of Simin’s shorts was enough to drive me into a frenzy, and for a moment, I was glad that my seatbelt kept me in place because, if not, I might well do something I would regret. I was terrified when I reached my finger for Simin’s privates. Hovering an inch away from her privates, I paused, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. This was the moment of truth, the point of no return. I knew that once I touched her, there would be no going back. But the primitive instincts took over and I slowly pressed my finger against the soft, warm fabric covering her most intimate part.

Simin: Mmmhh ... ernghhh...

Simin moaned softly, her body shivering slightly as my finger gently rubbed against her. My heart raced and I could feel a mixture of guilt and exhilaration coursing through my veins. I was taking part in an act that I normally would never consider doing, yet here I was, in a state of arousal that I couldn’t deny. I could see her eyelids fluttering like she wanted to wake from a nightmare but she couldn’t. Like she was being tortured and she could feel everything yet was unable to resist. I rubbed Simin a couple of dozen times, sliding my finger up and down her privates, feeling the slight hump of her pussy against her shorts and underwear. It didn’t take long for the moisture to start seeping through, wetting the very fabric she wore to protect her modesty.