Delta 1750

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We’ve both been waiting in the Delta gate area for over 2 hours by the time we board. 10pm flight from Atlanta, flying into the night until we reach New York City.

During that wait time, you must have crossed and uncrossed your legs at least a dozen times, each time looking at me with a lingering glance. “Oh, what I’d do to you,” I think to myself. That body-tight skirt wasn’t covering much to begin with, but you’re clearly OK with showing me even more.

The sophistication of your clothes, hair, and bag have a strong contrast with the small, bright polka-dots on your panties. Nice move — playful, and vulnerable.

On board now, it looks like the flight will be about half-full. Your zone was called before mine, so I’m not sure where you are, but I’m determined to find you — and fuck you.

The raw aggressiveness of a plane taking off — the G-force pushing us back into our chairs, the roar of unleashed engines, the sense of defying all physics as the plane rises up and banks tight to the East — fuels my fire. My animal side is the only side I’ll honor tonight.

Reaching 20,000 feet, my cock twitches at the ‘ding’ that gives me permission to roam about. You’ll be needing some directions by now. I get up to use the bathroom, and find you.

Nope . . . . nope . . . nope (but she’s hot . . maybe later) . . . nope . . . nope . . . . look what we have here . . . back row aisle seat. That’s a slut move, without question. Your eyes flash me a look to prove it — you’re a shameless cock slut.

As I pass you, I pause long enough to lean down and whisper in your ear, saying only, “by the time I get out of this bathroom, you’d better be touching yourself — but only on the outside. Everything inside those panties is mine.”

My fingers are sliding up your neck, stroking your other ear while I talk. To emphasize the word ‘mine,’ I tug on a hank of your hair and pull your chin back, staring deep into your eyes. You give a stifled nod of assent.

I walk away, and duck into the bathroom for long enough to force you to keep touching yourself even as the flight crew is bringing out the drinks cart. I hear them clanking out of the galley, and quickly follow after to make sure you didn’t stop and play it safe.

There you are, legs half-splayed, your left hand idly toying along the arc of your ribcage while your right hand strokes your panties and thighs in earnest. Good girl.

“Stay in this seat, and by the time I come back your bra and panties will be waiting for me on the window seat. Start now.” Betturkey Another hair pull, for emphasis.

Your legs immediately spread as you lift your yoga-firm ass off the seat and start to wiggle out of your panties as I walk away.

By the time I’ve made it to my seat, I can’t keep a small grin from arriving on my face. This is going to be fun.

I order up a vodka tonic for me, and ask the crew to deliver a red wine to your seat, to reward you for being such a good pet already. As I sip, I find my mind wondering whether the crew will find a flush-faced woman sitting next to her underwear, or a flush-faced woman stroking herself through her skirt while sitting next to her underwear. I guess it depends on how bad you want it right now.

They did hand out blankets, so it occurs to me that if I’ve pushed your boundaries too quickly, you might be back there playing it cautious by covering up while you wait. We’ll see.

I do the crossword puzzle. Only 18 minutes have passed . . not enough time for them to reach you. So I read my book. Another 15 minutes, which means you should be desperate for relief by now.

Wandering to the back again, I glimpse you leaning over and moving something before I arrive. When I get there, I see the blanket on the floor, your bra on top of it, and your panties on the seat. You had covered those up! Your eyes show shame, and hesitation.

I take your wine bottle and half-full glass, and hand them to the attendants 2 steps away in the galley. “She’s done.” Then I step over you, sit on your panties, drop my fly, whip out my semi-hard cock, reach over and grip your hair again, pull your face down and across the seats and say, “Don’t stop until I say so.”

In rotating your body, one of your legs slides up onto the seats, knee bent and foot in the air. The other is stabilizing you against the floor while you start sucking my cock deeper and deeper into your mouth and throat. Your skirt is gradually riding higher up your ass, leaving you exposed to the aisle.

Deciding I’d rather get fucked than arrested, I grab a corner of the blanket that’s within reach. Pulling it over us, I cover myself from the waist down and you from the waist up, leaving your glistening pussy on display for the hungry-eyed man across the aisle.

My slight anger and need to punish are fading as your cock-slut skills start to show in your technique — circling my cock-head with your tongue, using your hand to pump the base with downward pressure, moving your hand to take me all the way Betturkey Giriş into your throat. You’re quite a master.

I decide to reward you — with my first load of cum. I grab your hair through the blanket and start to fuck your face in earnest. Whispering through the fabric, I say, “You’re such a good little vixen. I’m going to cum in your mouth to show my approval.” I can feel a smile cross your face as your mouth widens around the sides of my cock. You’re beaming, and you renew your efforts and suck all the harder, making hot little noises from the work and the pleasure.

Soon I’m sending streams and bursts of hot cum down your throat, emptying myself just enough to let you know how much I appreciate your skills, and holding back enough to properly fuck you next.

You’ve got a firm grip on my waist and ass, pulling your face into my cock to suck every last ounce from me. When I’m finally down to the last drops, I lift back the blanket and watch as you trace your tongue around my cock-hole, picking up little extra drops as you tease them out with your grip. The look on your face says, “bliss.”

Quite satisfied myself, I’m tempted to leave you here, horny and unfucked. But then three things cross my mind: your eager, ready pussy . . . your ass . . . and the book, The Loving Dominant. Damn, why did I ever read that thing?

Your sexy, glazed, dilated eyes are asking me what’s next, so I make it clear that you have my permission to ride me like the amusement park attraction I am. My cock is twitching back to life at just the thought of your insanely hot body gliding up and down on me.

You shift to stand between my legs, leaning against the wall above my headrest with one hand while the other hikes your skirt up for good, baring your beautiful cunt to me. Then you slowly slide one leg at a time up onto the seat on either side of my hips. I slide forward a bit to align with you, pulling your top aside to suck on one of your nipples as you grab the blanket and wrap it around our waists.

Then you’re riding me — slowly at first, cherishing every inch of slide and stretch you can feel inside. For me, it’s all about temperature right now. The cold and wet leftover from your mouth, now turned to slippery heat and electricity.

The next stage is about sound. Our faces are cheek-to-cheek, and our moans and grunts are all we can hear. Occasionally, you add in a “fuck me,” a “take me,” or an “own me.” Happy to.

At this point, I give a glance toward the aisle to confirm that there’s not a U.S. Marshal with handcuffs. Instead, a guy waiting to use the bathroom has joined the guy across the aisle in pretending not to stare, but staring. The guy in his seat has draped a blanket over his lap, and is clearly getting himself off watching us. Good. Let’s give them a show.

Pushing against your hips, I force you to a standing position again. Then I pull my knees to my chest, and rotate so my legs are lounged across all 3 seats. I direct you into a reverse cowgirl by guiding your leg across my body, and pull you hard down onto my dick as I slam my hips up to meet you.

We start fucking in earnest, fueled by the intensity you’re feeling now that you’ve seen our growing audience. I reach forward under your arms, and pull your top down to make sure both your tits are exposed before telling the guy standing there to play with your nipples.

He seems hesitant at first — he doesn’t understand that you’re mine, and that I can share you how and when I choose. Soon, he’s happily playing with your tits as they jiggle from the rough pounding I’m giving your cunt.

Between the fucking, the nipple pinches, and the eroticism of the whole situation, you are on the verge of cumming. Your pussy is clenching down on my cock with every stroke, and your sounds have shifted to a rhythmic chorus of, “fuck yes!”

Slightly adjusting my angle to make sure I’m putting pressure on your upper wall and G-spot, I start slamming into you with all I’ve got, saying, “You can cum now, with me.”

And with that, I’m exploding deep inside you, your body begging and milking and gripping and clenching mine with unfettered desire. Your legs pistoning your hips to ride me as fast as you can, wanting more and more contact and friction and bliss. The tell-tale tingle down in my curling toes tells me that this is going to be one of those that lasts longer than usual — so we keep riding.

Wave two crests over you just as I’m finishing — maybe it was my left hand sliding up into your hair and gripping again, or maybe it was my right thumb brushing over the rim of your ass as it bobs up and down. Or maybe you’re just a multi-orgasmic pleasure addict who loves getting owned.

Spurred on by your renewed moans and bucking, I keep the ride alive until one more aftershock has wracked your body and left you limp and shivery delicious. And we’re spent.

I lift your hips and slide out from under you, settling you down amid the nest of your blanket and panties to bask in the after-glow. I tuck my cock away and slide toward the aisle, shooing away our guest groper.

Before leaving, I turn to face you and pull a copy of my itinerary out of my inside coat pocket. “Change your return schedule to match this one,” I say. “I’ll be taking that ass.”

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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