Title: 36,000 Feet
Keywords: mF, voy, mdom, mat, cheat
Author: Caesar
Summary: On a business trip, a man dominates and enjoys a mature woman seated next to him.

There was a young German named Ringer
Who was screwing an opera singer.
Said he with a grin,
"Well, I've sure got it in!"
Said she, "You mean that ain't your finger?"

36,000 Feet

$Revision: 1.18 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

Don't you just hate falling asleep on the plane? The vibrations, the
awkward angles the constant interruptions. I prefer reading a good
book on a flight rather than dropping off to sleep. Yet, on a long
flight, I can not help but drop off. Blame it on the boredom.

Perhaps what is worse than sleeping on a plane was waking up. On this
flight, I found a more enjoyable way to wake. Simply put, with a hand
gently fondling my crotch through my pants. Now, know that I had no
idea that such a thing would or could happen. My spouse was on the
other end of this flight and I knew no one else on the plane.

I sat, eyes closed, realizing my hardness was painfully pressing into
my jeans and that it was because of a hand gently fondling me. How
long had that been going on? Had I slept and been touched for over an
hour? Of course, I knew, it could very well be possible.

I hadn't moved, my eyes glued shut, as I tried to remember whom I sat
next too. Seated by the window, as I normally enjoyed watching the
midnight lights of cities as we passed them, I remember the seat next
to me was empty. I became bored and probably fell asleep because it
was cloudy and I couldn't see anything outside the port hole. The
seat next to me had been occupied, but for the life of me, I could not
remember whom it could be. Male or female I wondered, and prayed it
was female? How did she look?

I couldn't remember.

The hand was excruciatingly patient, moving feather-like for an
indeterminate amount of time before squeezing me firmly, as if testing
the depth to which I slept. If anything could be judged by being
fondled in the middle of the night, in a darkened plane and several
kilometers above the earth, its that I assumed the fingers and hand
belonged to someone experienced. How else could they fondle me,
possible for a rather long time, as I still slept unless by a hand
that has fondled a man before? That caused me to consider it was one
of two types of people; an older, experienced woman or a man.

God, I prayed it was not a man!

Yet, as the minutes passed and my mind cleared and became less clouded
with sleep I imagined that it was indeed a male touching me. That
thought alone caused me enough worry that my member started to wilt.
Its a catch-22 situation, to want that touch to continue but feared
whom it belonged too. I had to look, else, I realized, the hand would
withdraw when I became soft.

Most of the other passengers had their lights turned off and the cabin
was in a gray darkness as I squinted out of one eye. At first I could
not even see anyone next to me, but a shadow. In seconds, it soon
took on form. Yes, a face, pale white skin, glasses, short straight
hair... a lady.

Or perhaps I should call her simply, a woman, 'lady' may be pressing
the boundaries of that term.

In fact, she was as I had guessed, an older lady. Just how old was
difficult to ascertain in the dim cabin through slotted eyelids.

By the continued movements of the hand and the direction her eyes were
aimed, right at my crotch, it was obvious she hadn't realized I was
awake and looking at her.

Damn, that hand felt good! No longer was I in danger of going soft.

I had said she was no 'lady', what lady would fondle a stranger while
he slept on a flight thousands of feet about the earth? Yet, the
brief glimpse I had suggested she was just that. If first impressions
can be taken into account of course.

A pale skirt with tan nylons, a loose off-white blouse and several
discrete, and expensive, rings and earrings all helped with that
interpretation. The face, attractive may be the wrong word so I shall
call it striking, revealed her age gently. Yet, I guessed she was at
least forty years old - at least ten years older than I.

Coming towards our seat, a stewardess interrupted the jewelled hand
and I waited anxiously for it to return to its delightful spot upon my
lap. But it did not, much to my discomfort. Painfully my cock
pressed against the rough fabric of my jeans. Why did she not
continue? Did she guess I was awake?

I squinted yet again towards her, and saw that she too had her eyes
closed, laying back with her short brown hair laying against a tiny
airline pillow. So, feeling braver, I opened my eyes fully to look
upon her. She was like an older woman everyone knows but rarely does
one get close to these cold strikingly attractive older ladies. Yet,
inside the cold perfect exterior was a fire that desired and was
adventurous enough to fondle me as I had slept.

Slowly, that jewelled hand moved down from her lap towards her knee.
I caught my breath when I saw it reach the nylon and then move back
towards her... beneath her skirt. She could not be doing what I
think, or hoped, she was doing?

Her knees parted slightly, enough to give room for that hand to move
directly to the place between her legs.

A moist glistening tongue came out of her small mouth and licked her
red lips so very slowly. Her eyes clenched behind those small-framed
expensive glasses.

I watched her respond to that hidden hand and I felt incredible
passion and lust that moment. I've never before been a voyeur or had
tendencies to peek upon another person, yet here I was watching a
woman a decade older than I masturbate silently merely a few inches
from me. It was thrilling. It was dangerous.

I wanted more.

What was it that had caused her to open her eyes, did my breathing
change? Did I accidently press my arm against hers? Or did she
simply wish to look upon me as I was now looking upon her? I cared
not.

I only cared that she froze in what she had been doing. Twice she
stopped doing what I was enjoying, touching me and then touching
herself, and I didn't want her to stop again if the chance presented
me with it.

The lady's, and yes that is how I thought of her, eyes grew wide in
surprise and perhaps a little fear. Her hand froze beneath her skirt
and then slowly started to disengage. I wanted to tell her not to
stop, that the sight of her was incredible sexy, that I lusted after
the simple touch of her hand. Yet I wasn't alone, I shared the cabin
with several dozen other passengers, most of whom looked asleep. I
feared that my normal voice would wake half a dozen around us if I
spoke.

Who was more surprised when my hand reached over and pulled her
closest knee towards me, spreading her thighs farther apart? She
gasped when I touched her warm smooth inner knee and held her breath
as the skirt was forced higher up her thighs as those thin shapely
legs spread.

I was delighted and surprised to find the lady wore thigh-high
stockings and a garter belt. The only time I had seen this on a live
woman was when my wife wore them for the first and only time on my
thirtieth birthday. That had turned into an exciting and exhausting
evening, I sparse hope within me wanted to repeat that feeling now.

She didn't resist but watched me intently as my hand generously
fondled her stocking clad leg and finally, her smooth pale white skin
above. I could feel the heat from that smooth sexy skin, and even
thought I felt moisture. Could it be the moisture from her sex? God
I hoped so. What guy needs more proof that his actions are accepted
positively than the juices from between a woman's legs?

The hand that had been touching herself, and most probably me,
clenched the arm of her chair but disengaged when I pulled it towards
me. She watched amazed as I brought those thin fingers up to my face
and smelt and then licked them clean. Her juices coated them.

She tasted heady, raw. And I imagined that this pussy had not felt a
man in a very long time. It was my male bravado that I fantasied it
to be true.

When satisfied with her taste I lay her hand back on the inside of her
thigh, high up upon her pale skin. When I looked back into her face,
she looked surprised and I could read her attempt to decipher my
actions, to read what was my intentions. To be honest, I had no
intentions, I simply wanted to enjoy this mysterious woman and I
thought nothing else but my own selfish pleasure.

Still she didn't move so I leaned over and placed my lips next to her
ear. "Do it", I ordered in a rough whisper. Her face turned towards
mine and she looked into my eyes intently before she nodded slowly,
once. My eyes again turned downwards, to her lap.

The lady closed her eyes, lay her head back against the pillow and
slid her hand beneath the last few inches of skirt hiding that
treasure from my eyes. She sighed loudly and her hips started to move
in time to the slight movements of her hand.

Here I was, bare meters from a dozen other people, thirty-six thousand
feet above sea-level watching an older lady masturbate a mere breath
away from me. I couldn't actually see between her legs, but I didn't
care. The whole situation was so erotic that a generous view of her
sex may have actually soiled it. Strange as that sounds, its
completely true.

With my lips back near her ear, "I felt your hand earlier." She froze
without opening her eyes for a brief second before doubling her
efforts and biting the bottom of her lip. I could read her
determination to enjoy this moment with the same level of desire as my
own.

Was she surprised at being discovered? Embarrassed? Or, as I hoped,
extremely turned on?

Did she often stroke a man's covered penis while he slept in public
places? Was she a tramp or simply starving for affection?

I licked the tip of her ear and she shivered in response. "Aren't
your nipples sensitive?" She nodded even as her free hand came up and
grasped the furthest breast from me, just outside her own blouse. The
added sigh proof of her pleasure.

This woman was getting extremely turned on, and I looked up to make
sure no one was a witness to our pleasure. The cabin was mostly dark,
and I could not even see the movements of the stewardess forward.

"Submissive slut aren't you?" What was coming over me? I've never
talked to my wife like this, no matter how passionate I become. Yet
here I was talking harshly to this lady I did not even know. And the
truly strange and exciting part - she nodded slowly and in the
affirmative.

I again pulled her hand from between her thighs, roughly I may add.
She didn't open her eyes but squirmed aggressively against the seat as
I studied the abundant clear liquid coating much of her hand.
Obediently she opened her mouth and took the index finger I fed her,
and sucked her own juices from her skin. Seconds later the next
finger was in my mouth, and then another. Her taste was extremely
exciting, like a sexy woman's should taste like. The only way to
describe it was it tasted like hard ranchy sex.

I again whispered, "Now put that hand back and fuck yourself
slut... but imagine its that hard cock you felt earlier." She even
smiled at this command even as she moved her hand upon under her skirt
and, as I imagined, she practically attacked her own sex.

Now, following my instructions, I could hear the sound of her super
heated wet vagina as the fingers plunged in and out. Obscene. Yet
extremely sexy. Could any of our neighbours hear her?

I kissed all around her neck and ear as her passion came close to
waking all within listening range.

Finally I commanded, "Finish for me slut!"

And you know what? That older lady did just that.

It was as if she had been waiting for my explicit approval. I simply
sat back and watched amazed as her body contorted and quivered as the
shocks shot through her body. It was the most visible orgasm I have
ever witnessed, and that includes my wife.

Slowly the eyes opened and I guessed the moment was past, her
submissive tendencies shot away with the grinding teeth, sweaty
glistening white skin and clenching eyes. But nothing. She just sat
there, her other hand had dropped from her breast without my realizing
it, but I guessed that to happen in exhaustion. So I again pulled
that limp hand from between her parted legs and presented it to her.
I watched her as she watched me before she daintily licked each
millimetre of her hand of her own thick spend.

God, I know I've said it before, what a fucking sight!

Clean but wet with her saliva, I pulled it away from her face and then
turned my attention lower. Her average breasts, I guessed a 'b' cup,
rose and fell rapidly as she breathed quickly. Pointy small nipples
made prominent points behind the blouse and bra.

Lower.

With the shadows and that inch or so of skirt, I could not see what I
finally desired to look upon. She didn't move, as if she understood
my silent unspoken command. Yet she allowed my hand to gently pull
her near knee even further apart, with her leg now over the arm of the
chair. The skirt was nearly high enough. A simple rough yank, and
the skirt was up above her hips revealing all. Quickly she looked
around to see if there were any witnesses to her submission and
exposure - but it was dark and quiet in the cabin.

I know not what I had imagined, yet the vagina before me was very
sexy. I could actually see the sexual secretions coating the abundant
amount of short curly brown hair. I could feel her eyes upon me as my
hand reached out and my eyes took in everything.

The lips of her sex felt meaty and loose to my gently probing fingers,
the inner labia throbbing hotly, the thick hair matted, and the
moisture sticky and warm. I loved it.

My fingers moved lower until I actually poked her anus, which caused
her to tense up slightly. I pushed my centre finger in, testing the
tight anal ring. Her hands grasped the arms of her chair as I forced
the digit to the second knuckle. I could also sense her discomfort,
and I discovered some new distant part of me enjoyed this power over
her.

I looked back up into her face and saw her worry, and perhaps a little
pain. I whispered in her ear, "Virgin?" The meaning obvious. She
nodded again affirmative.

Pulling that digit from her rectum, I moved it back up to that
seemingly loose but very inviting hole and plunged a finger into her.
The lady relaxed noticeably and sighed in enjoyment. I could not
resist, "You have one wet gorgeous cunt." She smiled shyly and then
did something that surprised me, she clenched her sex. Now, I had
thought her rather loose 'down there' but when she clenched those
inner muscles I found that my single finger was trapped. I actually
felt a tremor of my own when she did that and could not help but groan
into her ear.

She looked upon me in pleasure and I returned her look with lust.

Without any word or indication from me, the older lady reached over to
my lap and began to unbutton my jeans. Hastily, enough that I knew
she was not completely exhausted and that she was more than a little
anxious, she pushed my jeans down and pulled my hard cock out.

Her eyes followed mine, as if to read my pleasure or displeasure as
she dropped her raised leg back down to her seat and started to lean
forward. I knew her intention, or at least hoped, and smiled in
agreement to the direction she was taking.

My hand pulled from between her legs, but I could care not.

The lady licked her lips and pulled her glasses off just before my
cock entered into her mouth. I stole another look about the cabin and
didn't see anyone so closed my eyes and sat back to enjoy this moment.

She had a talented cunt, a virgin ass hole, and a passion so strong as
to have sex with a stranger miles above the earth. Yet this woman,
several years my senior, sucked upon me slowly, nearly lovingly. My
own wife merely sucked me for my pleasure or to raise myself for her
own expected pleasure. I thought this lady sucked me because she
loved it. She truly enjoyed her actions - sucking my cock!

With so much erotic attention I was enjoying this evening it wasn't a
surprise that I felt my cock begin to clench in familiar spasms. The
lady removed her mouth and clenched firmly the muscle beneath my balls
to stop the impending flood. I opened my eyes in amazement, wanting,
no needing, that release. Stopping it actually hurt, so impassioned
was I. Yet, she again suckled me, slowly and lovingly as if she
intended to suck me forever.

This continued for what seemed an eternity. Sucking, spasms, smooth
lips, and teasing tongue. I was pressing my hips up to meet her
mouth, pressing her head down to meet my hips, gasping from a single
swish of her tongue, and groaning with need each time she stopped my
release. I needed that orgasm, I may be weak in admitting it, yet so
hot had I become I was nearly beyond my own senses. And the pain, can
it be described? How each time my release was prevented a dull ache
spread out from my balls, causing me more discomfort and pain as the
minutes passed.

Then it happened. My orgasm even surprised me. The lady didn't lift
her head or press below my balls to stop my release. Instead, she
lifted her face until only the head of my cock was submerged and then
preceded to suck every drop I could shoot from my balls.

Never before had I shot so much, or felt so much energy shoot out the
head of my dick. It seemed to last forever and without a doubt was
the most enjoyable orgasm I've ever experienced.

I sat back gasping as the gentle mouth sucked then licked me clean.
She even replaced my penis back in my pants and buttoned me up. Then
the lady tensed up and I looked to the direction her head was turned
in.

Between two seats, on the other side of the isle, I could see the face
of a teenage boy. His big eyes glinting with the lights at the end of
the cabin must have seen it all. I then looked into the face of the
lady and saw her embarrassment, her shamed face. This was no woman
that often did this sort of thing, and some distant part of me was
glad because neither did I. It made it more special in some odd way.

Hours later, in the arrival terminal, my youngest son slammed into my
legs as my two other children followed their mother towards me. My
loving wife wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug and her whisper
in my ear, "God I missed you!" I knew she meant more than just
another body at the dinner table as her pelvis pressed against my own.
Then my kids each had a turn hugging and kissing me.

For some reason, just before retiring with my family to find my
luggage, I turned my head to see that same sexy lady holding a tiny
baby with two twenty-something females about her. Those sexy eyes
looked up and meet mine and she turned suddenly red-faced even while a
tiny smile came to her lips and whispered silently, "thank you".

The chubby woman, of the two, talked to the baby and I could just make
out the words, "Say hello to your grandmother darling!"

She looked older in the light than she had in the shadowed darkness of
the plane - but even now, I could not help but admire the woman I had
been so intimate with and had never even learned her name.