Postcards From the Pacific
Copyright© 2014 by PocketRocket
Prelude - Economy Flight
Drama Sex Story: Prelude - Economy Flight - Sean and Sheila are now married and going on their honeymoon. Sean is taking his first vacation as a chance to show his new bride something that changed him. They have to get there first. Follows right after the series "How [K]itten met [T]eddybear."
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Spanking Light Bond Big Breasts
Author’s Note: This section repeats the end of How Kitten Met Teddybear. If you have read that story, you can skip this chapter.
Depart: 9:20 a.m., Arrive: 12:05 a.m.
Sat, May 26
Philadelphia (PHL), Los Angeles, CA (LAX)
Travel Time: 5 hr 45 mn
Distance: 3,406 miles
Flight: IT641
Aircraft: Airbus A301
Class: Economy
Meal: For purchase
Sean:
Every girl supposedly dreams of her wedding. I had no illusions about Sheila, but I thought the Ball would lift her spirits. No joy. After a couple of dances, we were back at schmoozing, so she never got out on the floor. I had more luck sending CC after kegel balls and restraints. It tickled my fancy when Sheila decided to wear one of the silk scarves over her hair. I could visualize the same scarf, tied over her eyes while I put her body through its paces.
Once we were in the Bentley, things were better. Sheila wanted to get close and snuggle. I could sympathize, but we had a lot of traveling to do before we reached the South Pacific. Instead, I had her open the picnic basket and pull out the nosh.
Sheila liked the cheese and crackers from our first date, so I had selected food along the same lines, plus fish. We had rosemary flatbread, Neufchatel, smoked oysters, pickles, and assorted condiments. On the side were oranges and pears, followed by coffee and 85% cocoa solid chocolate.
California was hours away and I had no illusions about airline food. Even first-class food is marginal and we were stuck in coach.
Sheila seemed pleased to have something to do. Working on a tiny cutting board, she spread the Neufchatel evenly on the bread, added lines of sriracha and wasabi sauce, topped them with smoked oysters and slivers of sweet pickles, then rolled and sliced it like so much sushi.
I was impressed. Where we were bound, I could get Shiela training with a certified sushi chef and off-the-boat fish. Sheila would like that. I peeled and sectioned an orange. When it was all ready, I had an inspiration.
Leaning close, I whispered, “Imagine that scarf on your head has been folded and used to bind your wrists behind you.” Sheila’s eyes widened, but her hands moved behind her back. “Now, another scarf has been folded and bound over your eyes. You are helpless and blind. You hope I will sate your hunger, but fear I will only give you food. Is this not so?”
Sheila closed her eyes and said, “Yes, Sir, it is so.” Her scent told me I needed to take action to save her dress. Fortunately, there were napkins handy. I had her lift so that I could pull the hem of her dress up to her waist. I put three folded napkins on the leather seat, then let her sit.
I said, “It will not do to have this car smelling like the Mercedes. I gave Russell a bonus for keeping you on the road with such distraction.” As I said this, I pulled two fingers through her moist folds. On the word distraction I put my wet fingers under her nose. Sheila flushed but made no response. That’s my girl.
This sort of play I could continue for hours, and I intended to do so in the next week. However, we were nearing Princeton, so I needed to hurry things. I fed her slices of rollup, wedges of orange, and bottled water. When I finished, I told her that her hands and eyes were freed, so that she could pour coffee. I ate by feeling because watching Sheila was important. She unstacked the cups, poured the coffee, stirred in cream, and unwrapped the chocolate without letting her dress drop to cover her lap. Again, we were out of time.
I said, “Well done. You may cover yourself and enjoy the coffee. At some point, I promise to dip some chocolate in you so that you can compare the flavors. For now, just think about the balls in your pussy and try to relax. We can take them out on our second air leg.” Sheila’s eyes went wide, then narrowed. I needed to stay on guard.
Sheila:
As the car pulled away from the house, I thought of my first view of the house seven days earlier. It had been a life-changing week, but I thought of Sean’s house as the end of the road. Silly me. It had been the beginning. So much more happened in the last week that my mind could not take it all in. The one surety was Sean. He seemed to think along the same lines because he took charge.
Our drive to the airport in Philadelphia would take less than an hour. Even so, Sean had brought food. I made two rolls of cream cheese and shellfish. I would have served them, but Sean had other ideas. He told me to consider myself bound and blindfolded. I let out a mental sigh of relief and told him this was exactly what I needed.
The first thing Sean did was have me raise off the car seat. He pulled back my skirt so that I was not sitting on it. Before I was allowed to sit, he put a stack of napkins on the glove leather seat. As he worked. he made an embarrassing comment about the trip back from Brooklyn. I had no clear memory of that drive, but the car still smelled of sex on Friday. There is good embarrassment and bad embarrassment and this was not good.
Before I could decide what, if anything, to do about it, Sean ran his fingers through my cleft and held them under my nose. Not good. I was not a puppy that had shit on the floor. There are limits and Sean was getting very close to one. Maybe he sensed it because he changed the subject to coffee and chocolate. I kept the skirt at my waist as I served to show my skills.
Sean ended the scene and gave appropriate praise, not that I cared. Then he reminded me of the ben wa balls to jerk the chain again. That was one step too far. I spent the rest of the ride thinking how Christine would handle the situation. She had a gift for finding blind spots.
Sean:
Sheila was pissed, and I didn’t blame her. She had been following my lead like a good little submissive. The problem was that she was not a submissive. We have CC to set that standard. As near as I could make it out, Sheila found direction soothing. I had the requisite mentality, but giving it free rein could lead to trouble. It just had, though not for the first time. I needed to make a conciliatory gesture.
To complicate matters, we were in heavy traffic near the airport, so time was limited. If the silk scarf had been any less visible, I might have missed it. I told Sheila to give it to me, then cross her wrists. She glared, but there was no hesitation. I folded the scarf into a narrow cord, then draped it over one of her arms.
Sheila’s reaction was a study of emotions. She settled on a questioning look. I answered, “When you wish me to use it, return it.” She threw her arms around my neck and mashed my face into her shoulder.
I said, “I love you too, Kitten, but we need to board a plane. I plan to punch your admission into the Mile High club, though not on this first flight.” That earned me a laugh. When we separated, Sheila had on her public face. She pulled out a mirror and checked her makeup, though it was pure form.
Airport security is everyone’s idea of inconvenience. Our luggage was pre-checked, but we both had a carry-on and separate computer bag. After a wait in the queue, with more time for me to put on my shoes and belt, we needed to run for the gate. It is the only time I ever envied pumps. Our plane was in final boarding, but any catch is a good catch. In a few minutes, we were settling into our cramped seats.
On top of everything else, the only available seats were in the coach section and not together. I asked the steward if he could fix this, but we were stuck until after take off. One aggravating thing about overbooked flights is that there are standby passengers. Even though we had rushed to reach the gate, there was a delay for standby people to board. Indeed, we were so late we should have been bumped. I did not know if one of Gerald’s people had called ahead, but I planned to check.
Eventually, it was time to stow our electronics and fasten seat belts. Sometime after that, we turned onto the runway and lifted for California. When the seat belt light went out, I was ready to get up, but the woman in the aisle seat decided to dig in her bag. Finally, I told her I had come straight from my house and had not had time to visit the restroom. Never lie when the truth will do. I was glad of it when I saw Sheila’s amused smile.
Unfortunately, I needed to go. I hugged Sheila and headed for the line at the facilities. When I returned, Sheila was sitting in my seat, and the aisle seat was empty. I was about to ask where the woman had gone but realized it was pointless. Sheila confirmed my guess with a simple nod. God, I love competent people. I offered Sheila the aisle seat, which she accepted. After that, the flight was almost enjoyable.
LAX was not. There are worse airports—O’Hare comes to mind—but nothing is convenient in Los Angeles. Once again, we needed to hurry. We were in terminal one and needed to get to TBIT in under twenty minutes. I was glad I was not wearing pumps. I will never know how Sheila can make walking in heels look so easy.
Several breathless minutes later, we reached our departure gate. Surprisingly, a man held a sign with Sheila’s full name. Hell, no. You got to Sheila through me. The man holding the sign was well-turned-out and thirty or thirty-five. I approached and asked, “Why do you want Mrs. Richards?”
He started and said, “I cannot ... Sean Richards?” Point for him. I nodded.
He said, “I am authorized to give this to you. You must be important because AA bought me a ticket to Vegas, just to get me in the terminal.” I knew I liked Aaron Aldermann. The man handed me a CD wallet, which I opened. Inside were four CDs or DVDs. One had a post-it note saying, “Play First.” To thank him, I said, “Good luck at the tables.” He smirked and said, “I would rather get lucky off ‘em.” I just nodded, glad he did not work for me.
Sheila may have been spending too much time with CC. Her only question was a raised eyebrow. I handed her the wallet. She looked inside and nodded as if expecting something like it. She didn’t even ask who sent it. I found that comforting. Sheila reads me like a novel, but at least she was the only one.
I would have given her my present, but they called boarding for first class. We had crammed into five hours of economy to make this flight. This leg would be in style, and I hoped she could sleep. We would arrive at about six AM local time, in Honolulu, even though it was eleven hours in the air, plus an hour changing planes. Tuesday would be worse. The Marshall Islands are on the other side of the date line. Coming home was nonstop to JFK—ten air hours, but seventeen by the clock.