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>