Genie Chronicles
Copyright© 2005 by Joe Brolly
Chapter 25
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 25 - Jack Phillips has no idea that in the small puzzle box he has inherited from his Aunt is a treasure beyond price; a Genie servant, ready to grant his every sexual wish. Join Jack as he solves the box's puzzle and embarks on a life heretofore only imagined, pushing the boundaries of a Sex Genie's powers.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Fa/Fa Mult Teenagers Consensual Romantic Mind Control Magic Lesbian Heterosexual Hermaphrodite Fiction Celebrity Robot Genie Spanking Light Bond Swinging Interracial Black Female White Male First Safe Sex Oral Sex Petting Sex Toys Exhibitionism Voyeurism Size Body Modification Transformation
Jack and Jennifer plopped wearily into their first class, first row seats. Well, at least Jack's plop was a weary one. Jennifer was vibrant as always. Jack briefly considered making some interesting wish to repay that cheerfulness, but quickly dismissed the idea as petty, if also perhaps a little arousing. It was just that they had only gotten a couple hours of sleep after the FI party the previous evening, and he was so tired. He laid his head back to rest his eyes for a moment. He wouldn't go to sleep or anything. If nothing else there was the mile high club to which he still seemed not to belong. Just let him rest his eyes for a minute, yeah...
Jack angrily plopped down in his last row, first class seat. His morning had so far been one of the most infuriating, frustrating he could remember ever experiencing. First the airline manned the busy ticket desk with only two attendants, causing everyone in the long line to have to wait for over an hour, and thus causing many, including himself, to miss their flights. He made it to the gate just as the plane was pulling away. They apologized profusely, and told him that they would book him on the next flight, and upgrade him to first class. Oh, but the next flight wasn't for another three hours, and it was on a different concourse, which required an airport subway ride, and another trip through security. And oh, his luggage did make it onto that plane taxiing toward the runway, so he would have to hunt it down when he arrived. Have a nice day, and thanks for flying FuckYou Airlines!
Well, he had to admit that the first class upgrade was nice, especially as his streak of less than desirably attractive flight attendants was finally broken. He just hoped that the slender, leggy bottle blond with top-heavy cleavage currently greeting passengers as they boarded was the first class attendant.
Then another attendant stepped out of the first class galley, and all thoughts of the blond were temporarily blown from his brain. As hot as the blond was, she couldn't hold a candle to this stunning redheaded vision. He could not imagine anyone more beautiful, and that was just what he could discern with her wearing the less than ideal Standard Issue Polyester Airline Attendant Outfit, Female. Her long, heavy copper-crimson tresses hung nearly to the small of her back. The silken strands managed to glow with an almost inner light even in the unflattering fluorescence of the plane's interior, and they framed a dazzling oval face blessed with high cheekbones and cute, slightly pointed nose.
The object of his sudden obsession stepped up to the blond to hold a whispered conversation, during which they both glanced his way several times. Great, now what? he thought sourly. The redhead stepped back into the galley. A few seconds later she reappeared and walked with an easy grace down the isle, stopping by his seat. She looked down at him, and the full lips of her somewhat elfin mouth broke into a dazzling smile. The smile lit her face, making it ever more unbelievably beautiful than before, making him instantly hard, and making his heart thud in his chest.
"Mr. Philips, on behalf of the airline, let me once again deeply apologize for your troubles today. We will do everything to make the rest of your trip a pleasant one," she said in a throaty voice. "We normally offer our first class passengers champagne, but I thought you might prefer this." She was holding what looked to be an ice-cold bottle of beer in one hand. She reached with the other hand to lower his tray, in doing so looking directly at the outline of his raging-hard cock in his jeans, now much too late to hide. He was mortified, but she simply lowered the tray over his lap, placed the beer in the little drink indentation, patted the tray directly over his cock, and said, "We'll be leaving the gate in ten minutes, so drink up! I'll retrieve the bottle before we leave. Until then, just wave or hit your call button if you need anything else." Her incredible smile was still in place, perhaps just a bit saucier than before, as she turned to walk back up the aisle. His eyes hadn't been on her hips as she approached, but he could still swear her ass, stunning even in the airline skirt, was swaying a bit more for her departure. He wondered what that butt would look like in a properly-fitting skit, or even a pair of tight blue jeans. Then he wondered if he could actually take that much visual stimulation. The long, delectably toned calves visible below her skirt hem were a pretty good sign he couldn't.
He enjoyed his beer - it was ice cold, and his favorite brand, how the hell had she known? - as he watched the two attendants greet the last straggling passengers, then close the door and prepare for departure. True to her word, the redhead returned for his empty bottle. She looked at the dead soldier approvingly, raised his tray and locked it, and said, "Seatbelt? Good. I'll return after takeoff and the captain has extinguished the seatbelt indicator to see what you want for lunch." She sauntered back up the aisle and joined the other attendant in gracefully waving her arms at the exits and doing all the other pre-flight crap that they always do, before taking her own seat. It was situated so that he could only see her long, dancer's legs. Wasn't her skirt a lot longer than that a minute ago? Where IS her skirt? He discovered that the danger of visual stimulation overload applied to her legs as well as her ass, at least when enough of them was visible, as he quickly became completely engrossed in them and how they must feel wrapped around someone, or how it would be to slowly kiss one's way up them or...
As the acceleration of take-off pushed him back in his seat, it finally distracted him enough that he shook his head and tore his eyes away from the glorious gams; a good thing, as his raging hard-on was now threatening to rip a hole in his jeans. He looked around first class and noticed that it was almost empty. Other than himself, there was only an elderly oriental couple on the opposite side of the plane all the way up in the first row. Well, the service should be good, at least.
A short time later their rapid assent leveled and the fasten seatbelt light chimed off. Jack looked forward at the legs to find them already standing, airline skirt in place. Damn! It definitely wasn't that long when she was seated. Both attendants puttered around in the galley for a moment, most likely securing anything that might have shifted in flight. They reappeared not long after, the blond checking on the couple and giving a small shrug at finding them already asleep, while the redhead came his way. "Everything okay, Mr. Phillips?" she asked, radiant smile back in place.
"Yes. Just fine," he stammered.
"Wonderful." She stepped back to make sure that the curtain between first class and coach was completely drawn, then returned. "My name is Jennifer, and as we are flying a bit light in first class this morning, it looks like I will be your personal attendant. May I bring you another beer?"
"Uh, sure."
"I'll be right back."
Jack again watched her perfect butt sway up the aisle, at least until the hypnotic swing of her long red hair distracted him. She returned almost immediately with the frosty bottle. On this occasion he had a very difficult time hoisting his vision above her chest, somehow incredibly presented even in the airline jacket and silken blouse buttoned to her neck. With heroic effort he raised his eyes to hers, and then found himself captivated by the most incredible, mesmerizing deep green eyes he had ever seen.
"Here you go," she said, this time lowering the tray of the window seat beside him and placing the bottle on it. "If I may, I would like to go ahead and get your lunch preference. We have roasted chicken and spring potatoes in a garlic-herb sauce, and we have filet mignon with baked potato."
"Um, the filet, please."
"Good choice. I'll go get that started." Again he watched the pageant of her departure.
He enjoyed his beer, flipped through the airline magazine, noted that the movie was nothing he was interested in, and was just getting ready to break out his laptop to do a little work when Jennifer returned.
"One more question, Mr. Phillips. What beverage would you like with your meal; coffee, tea..."
Or me, he automatically completed flippantly, and in this case wistfully, in his head. He couldn't believe they still asked the question this way. It was such a loaded cliche, even without the 'or me' part.
"... or me," she finished. It took him a minute to register that she had actually echoed out loud the words in his head. He looked sharply up at her, to find her smile still beaming at him, fairly naught, now. Or perhaps that was just his imagination.
"I beg your pardon?"
She turned and deftly sat in his lap, her legs crossed and hanging over the armrest and into the isle. Jack was shocked speechless. "Actually that wasn't fair," she said innocently, "that was two questions in one. First, what would you like to drink with your meal?" She looked at him expectantly from about a foot away.
Jack was finding it nearly impossible to form a coherent thought. Was this dazzling attendant really sitting in his lap? Were her eyes really that green? What was that incredible perfume? Did she not mind his raging hard-on poking her in the ass? "Uh... another beer?"
"Very good. Now, your lunch will be ready in about twenty minutes." She squirmed into a more comfortable position in his lap. "What else can I do to make your trip a more pleasant one?"
"Uh..." Jack had no idea how to respond to that loaded question. He knew how he wanted to respond, but...
Obviously reading his uncertainty, she continued. "Massage? Hand Job? Blow Job? Sex? Anal sex?..." Although she listed each offering as casually as she had his lunch entree choices, the eroticism in her smile was now unmistakable. Jack just stared at her in disbelief. She continued to smile at him expectantly for a moment, but then apparently figured she would have to take the initiative. "How about a blow job?" Her smile turned more whimsical. "They are very fresh today."
"Uh..."
She slipped out of his lap and pushed his knees wide apart before slithering down to kneel between him and the seat in front of him It was a tight squeeze but she had just enough room, what with the first class seats being further apart than coach for more leg room, and the position placed her mouth in a very interesting location over his crotch. "May I suck your cock, Mr. Philips?"
"Uh..."
She looked down at his bulge, then into his eyes. "As your cock seems to be straining to get free, I'll take that as a 'yes'." She lightly ran a fingertip along the outline of his shaft, causing him to grunt loudly, or what would have been loudly anywhere else. Against the background white noise of the engines and air conditioning, it was barely audible. Flight Attendant Jennifer heard it, though, and grinned smugly as she slowly lowered his zipper and reached inside to extract his hardness. She stroked it a couple of times as she continued to grin up at him, then licked her lips before lowering her head. She pursed to kiss his tip, and then kept her lips that way as his head began to invade between them, making for a very tight seal as her head inexorably descended. This groan made it several rows away, but there was still no one close enough to hear it.
Jack watched the lovely russet-tressed head bob and move slowly in his lap, disbelievingly, for awhile. This shit NEVER happens. It obviously was happening, though, and as he finally accepted it, he was able to fully appreciate the talented lips and tongue doing wonderful things to him. He wanted to close his eyes and lay his head back, surrendering to the pleasurable sensations, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the lovely red mane of hair that veiled what was going on beneath.
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