From mrdouble@you.know.where Fri Jul 18 21:00:22 1997
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From: mrdouble@you.know.where (Mr Double)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Fly the Friendly Skies By Ree X (M/f)
Date: Sat, 19 Jul 1997 01:00:22 GMT
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Copyright © 1997, Ree X. ALL Rights Reserved.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author. This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached. The author may be contacted
through mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.
Fly the Friendly Skies
By Ree X
INTRO:
The girl in this story is 12 years old, and flying alone. She is dressed
in a short sleeved blouse, and a miniskirt. Although she is in great
shape, and into gymnastics and martial arts, she is by no means some
fantasy supermodel. The best description would be "cute". Her attraction
comes more from charisma, charm and a young innocence. For those of you
who MUST know, however, her breasts are just rounding out, little more than
a palmful each, and she has no visible pubic hair on her pussy. Other than
that, use your imagination.
This is supposed to be part of a larger story, and this story is told by
the girl herself on the way back from the airport. If you are looking for
explicit content with fucking and sucking and no spoken words over four
letters, don't waste your time here.
HER STORY:
I always ask for the window seat. The one on the short side that has
only two seats, rather than three. That way, there are no distractions
(you'll see what I mean). I also wait for most of the passengers to get on
board before I get on, that lets me have a little control over how fast
things get started. This time, as I got onto the plane, I looked down the
rows to mine, and saw a man sitting there reading the in-flight magazine.
"Good", I thought, "He's not on the flight with anyone else."
I got up to my seat, and slipped in front of him before he could get up
and let me in. Of course, this was an awkward position since I was facing
him, and one of my feet slipped out from under me, landing me with my
crotch on his knee, and my hand against the back of his seat, giving him a
perfect view down my blouse. I was "of course" paying attention to getting
my feet back under me, not looking at him at all. Even so, I made sure
it was several long seconds before he lost his view.
"Sorry", I apologized as I made it into my seat.
"That's alright", he said.
As I bent down to place my bag under the seat in front of me, I saw him
nonchalantly stand and retrieve a blanket from the overhead. I glanced out
of the corner of my eye, and sure enough, there was a bulge growing inches
from my face. He took all of five seconds to retrieve the blanket and
spread it in his lap. He placed his hands on top, leaned his head back,
and closed his eyes.
I wondered if he was trying to think about something else, of if he was
fantasizing about me. Several minutes later as we left the runway, he
still had his hands on top. Guess that answers that.
I decided he was no real threat, so I could have some real fun with
him. I turned to him.
"Could you get me a pillow please?", I asked with a warm smile.
"Sure." He stood, dropping the blanket to the seat, and retrieved a
pillow for me. "There you go."
"Thank you." I said with my brightest smile. Sure enough, he had
himself back under control, no embarasing bulge. But that can be easily
changed.
It's amazing what you can get away with at twelve. You can still use all
your "innocence" tactics, and no one the wiser. That won't work in a couple
of years, though, so I enjoy using them whenever I can.
I tried to get comfortable leaning over against the wall with the pillow
under my head, but the seatbelt was too tight (yeah, sure :). So I
sighed (ensuring my companion's attention) and unhooked the seatbelt. I
pulled another half-inch of length, and hooked it back up. I made sure to
accidentally catch a bit of my miniskirt under the belt, drawing the hem on
my right side (where he was) another three inches higher! This didn't
show, of course, until I leaned over against the wall and started my nap.
After a couple of minutes, I glanced through my eyelashes at the window
to find his reflection. From his rigid posture, I figured he was probably
stealing looks at my bare thigh, visible from the seat to the hem about
three inches higher ... all the way back to my white cotton panties. I
saw him shift his position a little, slipping one hand down under the
blanket which was once again in his lap.
As long as he was sitting there, his body blocked this view from anyone
else, even the stewardess. I didn't want him getting up and heading back
to the lavatory to relieve himself, not yet. So when the seatbelt sign
went off with a faint ding, I "woke up" and looked around sleepily.
"Could I have some of that blanket? My legs are cold."
"Sure. Here you go.", as he unfolded the blanket and handed me just
over half.
"Thanks." I snuggled up under the blanket, and grabbed his hand as I
resumed my former position against the wall.
There is nothing like first contact! As I held his hand in mine, just
like any girl might hold her father's hand, I could feel his pulse
quicken. He left his hand in mine, of course, what choice did he have? If
he removed his hand, he might wake me up. And since it was under the
blanket, it wasn't obvious, and it's not like he had it under my skirt or
anything. So of course he left it there.
Over the course of the next 10-15 minutes, I let him get used to the
contact, and his pulse slowed back to normal. If he was rubbing himself
with his other hand, he must have been very good at hiding it. His hand
was solid in mine with no telltale rythmic movements.
I figured it was time. Under the covers, I moved my hand to a more
comfortable position ... in my lap. Since his fingers were interlaced with
mine, I kinda dragged it along with me. I left it there for a couple of
seconds, feeling the back of his hand trembling on top of my bare thighs.
Then I gave him an out. I released my fingers from his and pushed both my
hands up under the pillow. At the same time, I resettled myself against
the wall, spreading my thighs a finger-width apart, still under the
blanket.
I slept patiently and his hand didn't move. Good so far. It was about
five minutes later that he smoothly moved it up to about half an inch from
my panties! I must have tensed a bit at that, because I heard his quiet
breathing stop. I moved a little on the seat, getting comfortable, and
opening my thighs marginally wider.
As I did this, his hand slid lightly onto my panties, feeling the wet
spot there. After he was sure I was still asleep, he started dragging his
finger lightly up and down my crack, not causing any great sensations, more
like feeling what was inside, and seeing if it would wake me up. Each time
he dragged it further up toward the top of my panties.
Finally, his finger tips slipped off my panties onto the bare skin
above. I knew this was coming, of course, and made no move. As he moved
his finger tips gently down under the edge of my panties, I knew he was
mine. I waited until he was moving his finger up and down my crack again,
and when he was all the way down at the bottom, I switched sides.
I leaned away from the wall, against his shoulder, still asleep, with
his finger, perfectly still, burried deep in my panties. I hugged his arm to
me as any daughter is likely to do, but he didn't expect what he discovered
next. Against the exposed skin of his arm below the short sleeve shirt,
was pressed a small, erect nipple.
I looked up into his eyes and smiled my warmest smile. "Was I out
long?", I asked. I ran one of my hands down his arm to his hand in my
panties, and started to gently pull it out while pressing his finger deep
into the cleft. Then I pushed it back down between my thighs on the
outside of my panties, pushing more of them inside with each pass until
my entire pussy was revealed on either side of my bunched-up panties.
I closed my thighs around his hand, trapping it solidly against the bare
skin. I took my hand from under the cover and crooked a wet finger at
him.
He leaned over, no longer looking like a trapped animal, but very unsure
of where he stood with me. "Kiss it and make it better, Daddy?", I gave
him my most mischevous smile.
I saw him relax a little and actually smile. He leaned down and gave my
finger a light kiss, just enough to wet him lips a bit. "That better,
Honey?", he asked, licking his lips lightly.
"I love you, Daddy." I went back to hugging his arm, and
readjusted the cover over my shoulders and across my lap. As I did this,
of course, I opened my thighs wide enough to give him adequate space for
his work, which he promptly resumed.
"Have you ever done this before?", I asked quietly. He looked kind of
embarrased, and I said, "I mean played with someone you don't really know."
"Well, I guess I have," he replied softly, then whispered, "But never
someone as pretty as you."
Yeah, yeah, I know! A bunch of trite garbage that every girl should be
able to recognize a mile away by the time she is my age. So what? I sure
don't believe everything everyone tells me. It's all a game. Now that I
had established the ground rules, and brought him up to speed on the
tactics, we were free to play.
"And how about you?", he asked, also being quiet.
This was the reason I had asked the question in the first place, of
course. "Lots of times. That's how I know just how to do it. I was never
really asleep, you know."
"I guess I kinda figured that one out, no genious required there.", he
smiled, "Just how far do you play this game?"
"For you, I was planning on letting you finish what you're doing now
while I tell you some of my stories. That sound good?" He nodded. I
leaned closer, "Then I'm going to give you my panties and you can take them
to the lavatory if you want. It's not really fair, but it's the safest
way to play the game in an airplane."
"I hope you know how to keep quiet when it happens. I wouldn't want the
people behind us asking if you're OK because you're panting, let alone
anything else."
"Oh, I can be really quiet. The little orgasms are easy to handle.
It's the big ones that can be a little loud. And you don't get those from
fingers.", I giggled. I didn't want to sound like a slut, after all, just
a horny little girl.
"You ..."
"What?", I wondered where I had slipped up, and was getting concerned
because his fingers had suddenly stopped.
"You did that on purpose", he smiled.
It must have been my day to be incredibly dense, "What?", I repeated
myself as he resumed his rubbing with more confidence.
"That little slip getting on the plane." He looked seriously amused.
"Well, yeah. And not only that, so was catching my skirt in the
seatbelt."
His mouth fell open for a second before he recovered. Slowly a grin
spread over his features, "All that for a game?"
"This isn't just any game. What do you get if you win Monopoly?"
"I see your point", he replied. We were quiet for several minutes. He
was concentrating mostly on me, but I could see he was thinking pretty
heavily about something else. I don't know why men do that during sex.
His attention sure came back in a hurry as I hugged his arm tightly to
my chest, and sighed sometime later, flushed from a decent orgasm. "Well,
I guess you do know how to handle it. If my arm hadn't had its circulation
cut off, and my hand crushed, I wouldn't have even known. I'd have figured
you were finding out how long you could hold your breath."
"Thanks, that was a nice one." I had slipped several inches forward
during the orgasm in an unconscious attempt to increase the pressure of his
fingers, and now slid back rolling my soaked panties halfway down my
thighs, still under the ever-present blanket. I slid the panties all the
way off, grabbing my bag from under the seat in front of me, placing it on
my lap.
I folded the panties into a generic, cheap looking little box that could
have held anything from chocolates to shaving gear. Taking the box out of
the bag, I handed it over and said, "We should freshen up before they turn
on the seatbelt sign."
"Good idea", he said, playing along and looking at his watch, "We should
be landing in about half an hour." He took the box and saunterted back
toward the lavatories in the back of the plane.
If he thought I was fibbing before about how good I am at the game, I'll
bet he didn't after he looked in that box! The box had a drop of my
favorite perfume soaked into the bottom, which is exactly what I was
wearing when I sat next to him. Not only that, but I put the drop on my
thumb for a few seconds, then pressed it into the box, so everything inside
smelled of ME! Aside from my soaked panties, there was a ziploc bag to
keep them in. There is also a thin parchment, like in those expensive
boxes of chocolates, with instructions on "How to care for your dirty
panties". I had also included seven pink kleenexes, each printed with a
different day of the week. And last of all the standard contents, was a
magnetized 5x8 picture of me and Boy, my black lab. Of course, I was bare
naked, and Boy had all his eight inches of pink standing at attention next
to me. Since I had not had time to tell him any of my stories (like this
one), I had also slipped a printed copy of my favorite one into the kit.
I got my own kit (a real one) out of my bag, placed the bag under the
the seat in front of his, and headed back myself, with in a very short
skirt, no panties, and reeking of sex.
I slipped into the one next to his, and freshened up, washing
carefully between my legs, as well as the usual routines. I wasn't quite
finished when I faintly heard the water run in his stall, and the door
open. He certainly lasted longer than I thought he would.
I finished up and headed back to our seats. He looked like someone had
given him a promotion or something. As he stood to let me in, the perfect
gentleman now, I thought to myself, "Maybe the game's not so unfair after
all."
As I slipped past him to my seat, he asked, "You want me to put that in
your bag for you?"
I must have looked a bit startled, as I looked up and saw the twinkle in
his eye. "Yeah, thanks", I smiled. This was the first time someone
actually beat me to the move. It felt good.
He took the kit, and bent down toward the floor to retrieve the bag. I
shifted around a bit as he glanced straight up my skirt, giving him a brief
but perfect firsthand view of my charms. He straightened up with the bag
in his lap and I could hear him chuckling softly, "I thought that was it."
The process was repeated, of course, as he stored the bag under the seat
again, and yet again as he retrieved it for me after landing. I never did
find out what his name was. He never said, and I never asked.
EPILOGUE:
When I got home and unpacked, I found a bundle of used $50 bills in the
bottom of my bag. A note was wrapped around them saying,
Honey,
I hope you don't take this wrong. This money is not
any kind of payment for what you did for me. I am touched
by the thought and consideration that you put into your
game tactics, and the contents of your gift. Before I
left for this trip, my company gave me some money for
entertainment expenses. Well, I have certainly been
entertained! Please accept this money as funding for
advanced research and development of "the game".
I hope you will never need this number, but if you
are ever in serious legal trouble, please call and
leave a message. Just leave a number you can be
contacted at, and say that you're looking for Benny.
I must insist, however, that you tell no one of this
number. Please memorize it and burn this note.
I hope we meet again under less restricted circumstances.
I will always remember you in my dreams and my fantasies.
Tell the lucky dog I said, "Hi."
Love always,
Daddy
I looked on the back, and memorized the 800 number there, before committing
the note to the flames, and starting on my shopping list :)
--
Double for Nothing!! Tricks for Free!!!
http://pw1.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/stories.html
Be There.....