Message-ID: <12240eli$9806171413@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12240.txt> From: specpress@earthlink.net (Odile Santiago) Subject: The Flight to Hong Kong (Claire Baeder, f/m 1/1) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: specpress@earthlink.net Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <6m79g9$6s8$1@chile.it.earthlink.net> This is an extract from an Obelisk Library Etext title available via Email or on disk. For more information about this and other Etext titles, ask for the Obelisk Library Catalog at: <specpress@earthlink.net> This text is for adults only. from: Claire Baeder: JADE EAST Copyright (c) 1991 Spectrum Press Inc. All Rights Reserved Published by Spectrum Press Inc. 1-57138-104-X <specpress@earthlink.net> The Flight to Hong Kong At the moment, Laura Scanlon is alone in the airplane, seated near the window, her eyes on the darkening sky and the calm Pacific Ocean so vast in its extent. They've been in the air seven hours, seven hours out of San Francisco, seven more hours to Hong Kong. She smells perfume from somewhere, or is it a man's cologne? No, it must be perfume. Then she wonders why Emilio hasn't yet returned. Is he still in the lounge? These days she always feels so lost without Emilio. She can't bear the idea that soon they'll be parted. She wants Emilio here beside her again. She runs her fingers over the soft leather purse in her lap. The lights in the cabin are dim as people rest before the evening meal. Enough time has passed since they left San Francisco to make people weary of each other, to make them eager for silence as the noise of the engines continues. The steward approaches, glances at her, smiles and passes on. Laura looks at the man on the opposite side of the aisle and she wonders if he lives in Hong Kong. Their eyes meet and she turns her face away to look at the window again. The only man she wants is Emilio. She feels so insecure without Emilio. She'd rather they go to Europe than to Hong Kong. They might bask in leisure on the Riviera if it pleased him. * * * Seen from a certain angle, she looks younger than her twenty-eight years. The skin of her face is translucent, the cheekbones high, the lips full and modestly sensuous. Her brown hair is luxuriant, carefully waved, a cluster of impish curls on her left temple. When she stands erect before her mirror, her breasts are substantial enough to be slightly pendulous, the curves of the two breasts neatly balanced by the perfect curves of the two buttocks. Except for the curves of breasts and buttocks, her body is long and slender. Her belly is flat and her thighs are long, and at the joining of her thighs the hair is only slightly darker in color than the hair that frames her face. She keeps her grooming immaculate, hair, nails, makeup, all of it cared for with the utmost devotion. * * * Emilio returns to her with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands. "Look what I've brought for us, darling." Laura shows her happiness by kissing his cheek as he sits down in the seat beside her. She watches him as he opens the wine, and then she holds her glass to be filled. She waits until Emilio has filled his own glass, and then they toast each other, smile at each other, sip the wine with their eyes on each other. "I love you," she says. Emilio smiles as he touches her hand. A late dinner is served, and she listens as Emilio tells her an amusing story of a trip to Brazil. She feels happy. She feels happier now than ever before in her life. She wants nothing except to make Emilio as happy as herself. * * * In Florence one morning she stood in front of the dressing table in their hotel room wearing only a pair of white lace panties, her hands on her hips, her eyes on the mirror as she looked at her breasts, turned her body to look at them from another angle, wondering if they were as pretty as she thought. Then Emilio came out of the shower with a huge erection under the towel, and when she saw it they both laughed and he pulled the towel away to show it to her. He came behind her, pressed himself against her, his stiff penis against the white lace that covered her ass. She leaned her hands against the dressing table as he pulled the panties down her legs and off her feet. She leaned and bent forward as he slid his penis deep inside her sex and started doing it to her from behind. His balls slapped against her sex, and when he finished she quivered as she felt the wetness between her legs. Afterward they went out to look at the statues in the Piazza del Duomo. * * * When the dinner has ended and the trays are cleared by the stewards, they sit back in their seats to watch a dull film on the screen. Laura feels drowsy as she leans her head against Emilio's shoulder. The sky outside is dark now, the cabin quiet as the passengers settle in for the long night. She hears the voices in the film only vaguely as she attempts to sleep. She cuddles against Emilio. She always feels so secure when she sleeps against his shoulder like this. She does not want to think about tomorrow. * * * Sometime during the night she awakens as she feel Emilio's hand sliding into her lap. She remains motionless, her eyes closed, waiting. A blanket now covers them and she hopes no one can see anything. She waits for Emilio's hand. The hand continues moving over her knees, then slides under the edge of her dress to stroke her knees through the nylon of her pantyhose. What time is it now? She opens her eyes and she looks at the cabin around them. The cabin is so dark, it must be past midnight. Emilio's hand moves upward, his fingers pushing between her legs, her breath catching as she feels his fingertips stroking the insides of her thighs. She opens her legs to him, her knees parting under the blanket. She closes her eyes and she remains motionless as Emilio's fingers at last touch the nylon that covers her sex. She wants him to stop it. She wants him to go on. "Darling, wait..." "No one can see us." "Yes, but let me go to the washroom first and I'll take something off." He sighs as he pulls his hand away. She kisses his cheek, and then she rises and she slides her body out to the aisle. Now she tries to remember in which direction she ought to walk, and then when she does remember she turns and she walks down the long aisle to the washrooms. * * * One day when they were lovers only a short time, he asked her if she was more devoted to him than to any other man that she'd known. She said yes, it was true, she was more devoted to him than to any of the others. He said he wanted to have her in a public place but that she had to be specially dressed for it. She would have to wear a black dress, and under that black stockings and black shoes with very high heels. She would have to find garters to hold up the stockings or maybe stockings with elastic tops. When she had what he wanted, when she was dressed in the manner he wanted, he took her into the country and he made love to her against a tree. He had her against the tree with her dress raised to her hips and one of her legs lifted so that he could get his penis inside her. Then he had her on the ground with her legs in the black stockings on his shoulders and his member driving into her sex with such force that it made her cry out with pleasure. * * * When the door is locked, she looks at the minuscule washroom and she's thankful it's still clean. She glances at her image in the mirror, at her red lips, at the waves of dark brown hair that frame her face. Then she slips out of her shoes and she lifts her dress to get at the waistband of her pantyhose. She pulls at the tights, pulls the nylon sheath down her thighs and legs and then off her feet. After she drops her skirt, she gathers the pantyhose and she stuffs them inside her purse. The plane rocks a moment and she has to steady herself against one of the walls. Then she slips into her shoes again, rising up on the high heels, her eyes on the mirror over the basin. Once again she looks at her face, at her eyes. She pulls at her dress to slide it upward, and then she moves a hand between her legs to touch her sex. She quivers with pleasure as she feels the wetness, the moisture coating the outer lips. As she leaves the washroom, she thinks only of Emilio. She walks along the aisle again, searching for their seats, searching for Emilio. Then at last she finds him in the darkness and she slides past his knees to seat herself next to the window again. In a moment their laps are again covered by the blanket, and as Emilio once more slides his hand under her dress and between her legs, he murmurs his approval when he finds her pantyhose gone. She turns her face toward his and they kiss in the dark. His hand moves again under the blanket, his fingers stroking the insides of her thighs, the bare skin of her thighs under her dress. He finds her sex and he strokes it lightly with his fingertips. Her eyes closed, she opens her legs even wider under the blanket. Someone passes along the aisle in the darkness. Is it the steward? Laura quivers as she feel Emilio's fingers touch her again. She feels her thighs trembling. She wants her sex to be open to him, open to his hand, open to his fingers. Is she wetter now than before? She moans as Emilio strokes the lower part of her slit, avoiding her clitoris, avoiding the apex. He whispers in her ear: "You're excited." "Yes." "You're thinking about tomorrow." "No, it's not that at all." He makes a sound of amusement. "But I think it is." "Emilio I told you..." "But you're doing it to please me." "Yes, if you want it." His fingers again. The pleasure he can give her with his fingers always amazes her. No other man has ever been able to do to her what Emilio does to her. No other man has ever brought her such excitement. A shudder passes through her body as he begins a slow masturbation of her sex. His fingers have still not touched her clitoris, but she knows it will happen. She sits half-reclined, her head turned to the side, her eyes closed as Emilio's fingers gently stroke the parted lips... ------------------------- End Extract This is an extract from an Obelisk Library Etext title available via Email or on disk. For more information about this and other Etext titles, ask for the Obelisk Library Catalog at: <specpress@earthlink.net> -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>