Chapter 1
Some things are impossible to deny. Other things are possible to deny, but too silly to bother denying. Caroline knew it would be silly to deny that first class was superior to coach. It would also be impossible. There was no denying it. She liked first class more. To pretend otherwise would be foolish and hypocritical.
The view of the clouds was the same. The altitude, the pressure in the ears, and the slight chance of crashing between Boston and Los Angeles were the same in the front or rear of the airplane. Caroline knew that, but somehow her fear of flying was less in first class.
The few times she had been in an airplane she had been in the back, in coach, usually in a center seat, feeling crowded by other passengers on either side of her. She had always been nervous, too apprehensive to read, write letters, or even watch the movie. Invariably, she would light up the moment the plane was in the air and the "No Smoking" sign turned off. She would bite her finger nails and chain-smoke throughout the flight, racing through two or three packs until the sign went back on.
Liquor was another way to calm her terror of airplanes, but more often than not the stewardesses would ask to see her I.D. She hated them when they did that. It wasn't fair. If she was old enough to risk her life in a flight across the country she was certainly old enough to have a drink. But the stewardesses would always look at her through their stupid looking eyes, smiling vapidly. Actually they did not smile. Caroline did not consider the tricks they did with their mouths to be smiles.
No, they didn't smile. They flexed their glossy lips and flashed their polished teeth and waited for Caroline to hand over her I.D. The stewardesses were like computers; they had to live by the rules because they had not been programmed for anything else. Were they really so stupid that they could not realize that a frightened and rather naive seventeen-year-old girl needed a drink just as desperately as a tired business man who hadn't done anything but lift telephone receivers and write checks all day, or a fat assed matron in mink whose greatest anguish all week had been riding in a cab to the airport?
Sometimes a man in the next seat came to her rescue. Caroline had often accepted drinks from men who had been sitting in the adjacent seat, eyeing her legs and tits and trying to think of a good opening line.
The last time she had been in a plane, on her way back to college from her spring vacation in Los Angeles, Caroline had accepted two martinis from an attractive man in the next seat. The drinks had soothed her nerves, and she was so grateful that she had let him reach inside her skirt during the movie. When the lights went out in the cabin and all the passengers turned their eyes toward the screen, Caroline even granted the man his request: she went down on him, squirming in her seat to take his cock in her mouth. She sucked him until he came in her mouth.
That had been her first taste of semen. She owed it to the friendly skies. She had not objected to his request at all; she had been too happy to oblige. It was the least she could do to repay his generosity. She had seen the movie anyway, or part of it. She had gone one night during her vacation with her father and her brother. They had found it too tedious to sit through. Sucking cock at an altitude of twenty-seven thousand feet was more interesting than a boring movie.
On this flight Caroline had accepted more than a drink or two from a man. She had accepted a first class ticket.
She had been in the bar of Logan Airport. She needed to fortify herself for the long flight from Boston to Los Angeles. The plane was scheduled to depart at midnight; at quarter after eleven Caroline was a bundle of nerves. Martinis interested her more than boarding.
She was reaching into her purse for the price of her second very dry, very strong martini, half resolved to drink herself to death rather than buy her second class ticket to the real-life disaster movie she expected to experience on the plane, high and helpless in the sky. Liquor had affected her just enough to make her giddy, but it had not completely soothed her nerves. She had two cigarettes burning, one in her hand and another in the ashtray.
From the corner of her eye she saw a tall, well dressed man approach the bar.
She felt a tingle in her body when he sat down on the stool next to her. She knew that he was staring at her; she could feel his eyes bearing into her like high-intensity light beams.
Her body tensed in anticipation.
Caroline had not yet looked at the man's face, and now she was too nervous to steal a glance. She knew that he had deliberately taken the stool next to hers for the purpose of making some kind of pass or overture.
That was all she needed! She was such a basket case already that she could not possibly command the dignity she needed to put down an aggressive man on the make.
Trying to focus on the contents of her open purse, anxiously trying to locate some cash among the lipsticks, the paperbacks, the pens and her supply of tampons, Caroline's eyes wandered in the direction of the man's lap.
She could see his sturdy legs. They looked muscular through the fabric of his trousers. Inevitably, she shifted her eyes to look at his crotch. His pants were well-tailored, and somehow the cut of them made his groin extremely arresting.
They were not the snugly fitted levis that all the college men wore, and there was no blatant bulge between the suited man's legs. Caroline could not estimate the proportions of the man's genitals, and his loosely fitted crotch intrigued and tantalized her.
She found it impossible to focus on her purse. The mysterious crotch of the man held her eyes like a magnet. She felt that she was at a disadvantage; he could estimate the size of her tits through her tight silk blouse. She was not wearing a bra, and she knew that her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. She felt her nipples stiffen, knowing that the man was staring straight at them.
Without having seen his face, Caroline knew that the man was examining her entire body with interest. She was dressed as minimally as possible, not because she had planned to look sexy today, but because it had been hot that day. Boston could be an uncomfortably hot city in June, and Caroline had dressed in a way to minimize both the heat and the discomfort of a long flight.
The result was sexy, nevertheless.
She was wearing her pink silk blouse, a casual and rather skimpy pink skirt, pantyhose and low heels. The pink blouse and skirt clung like adhesive to her moist, perspiring flesh, and she knew that her form was discernible under her immodest clothes.
Caroline wanted to look at the man whose eyes she felt drilling into her body, burning through her clinging clothes like ex-rays. But she was too embarrassed. She knew that she should not have looked at his crotch. Surely, he had seen her eyes twitch, or had felt her eyes on his body in the same way that she felt his.
Suddenly, she became aware of how ridiculous she must seem. She realized that she had a cigarette in her hand and another in the ashtray, that she was fumbling through her purse, without even looking at it. She felt like an idiot, the epitome of the disorganized Woman conducting a solitary scavenger hunt through the chaos of her bag.
She also felt helplessly lewd, her eyes locked on the man's crotch and her brain calculating his dimensions through the haze of her increasing intoxication.
On an empty stomach, and with her current nervousness, two dry and double martinis were lethal. But she did not feel at all torpid; she felt terribly on edge, too alert for comfort. The liquor had done nothing to slow the rushing currents of her body. Her heart was throbbing and a warm tide was beginning to flow between her legs. She felt her pussy come to life, as though someone had trespassed into a locked room, flicked a switch and illuminated a gallery of naughty pictures.
She knew she should be ashamed of herself. In forty-five minutes she was supposed to board an enormous aircraft. She was frightened out of her wits, and yet she was concentrating all her thoughts on the groin of a man whose face she had not even seen.
It was madness: her cunt was getting off on a crotch that had no name or face.
Caroline's eyes devoured the sight of the man's charcoal gray trousers. Her father often wore the same color, the same flannel fabric. Her father was apt to sit at a bar as this man was sitting, his knees spread apart, or crossing his legs by resting the right ankle at the left knee.
Without seeing the man's face, Caroline was reminded of her father by the body alone. Her father had the same sturdy looking thighs, the same firm, strong haunches, and the same loosely outlined crotch that always made her wonder.
"May I be of some assistance, young lady?" Caroline heard the man ask.
His voice was deep, firm, gallant but business-like.
She liked the sound of his voice. Different women were attracted by different attributes of men. Many of the girls she knew claimed that men's asses were the first thing they examined, and that if a man didn't have a nice looking ass they would never be turned on by him. Others said that they looked first at his eyes and could tell instantly whether they wanted to know him or not; others said that they made their initial assessment by looking at a man's lips.
To Caroline, it was the crotch that caught her eye first. It would be foolish to deny it. If the crotch didn't interest her she was not apt to look at the man's ass or eyes or lips.
But if a man with a terrific looking crotch opened his mouth to speak and had a bad voice she lost interest; no matter how furiously her pussy had steamed at the sight of his crotch and the suggestion of his cock, it would dry up like the Mojave Desert if the voice didn't live up to the outline between the legs.
It was a rare joy when a good crotch had a good voice. More than a joy, it was a miracle. Caroline was so often disappointed by men's voices. Studs rarely spoke well, but this one did. If he had spoken in a high, raspy or flat voice, Caroline would have told him to go to hell. But he had spoken with fine tone and a thrilling sound of authority, and there was no denying that she was in dire need of some assistance, although she did not know what kind.
What could this man do for her?
Maybe he could take her away from this airport nightmare? Maybe he could give her one last fey fuck before the plane crashed.
Still pretending to be mesmerized by her purse, digging her hands in frantically, Caroline began to mumble, almost incoherently.
"It's so silly," she began without yet looking him in the face, "you'll think I'm a fool. I'm supposed to get on a plane at midnight. I'm scared to death of flying, and I absolutely must have another drink. I mean, I need two more before I can possibly get on the plane, but I need at least one more before I can even go buy my ticket. It's absurd! I'm too nervous to get my ticket. Everyone in the world flies back from school this time of year; I don't even know if I can still get a seat. But I don't even care, at this point. I just need another drink, but I can't find my damn pocket book. I simply can't find it inside this purse."
Caroline could have babbled nonsensically for hours. She had almost started to explain to the strange man that she was unable to find her pocket book because she had the curse and her bag was loaded with tampons. That's how out of control she was. She would have told him anything, whether he wanted to know or not. She might have told him that she had been staring at his crotch because his trousers were like her father's.
Fortunately, the man interrupted her, good naturedly.
"Perhaps you are unable to find your pocket book in your purse for the simple reason that it is on the bar." He said.
Caroline could hear the smile in his voice, and for the first time she moved her eyes from his crotch to look directly at his face.
"Oh, how unbelievably asinine. How stupid of me! I've been looking for it for the last five minutes." She said.
She did feel utterly ridiculous. When she saw the man's amused expression on his handsome, dark complected face, she felt even more idiotic. He was wondrously good looking. He had dark brown eyes, dark hair, firm and sensual lips, and a substantial nose with slightly flared nostrils. Caroline cared about men's noses. They excited her. Everything about a good looking man excited her.
"Not at all," he said indulgently, "everyone can become befuddled when they're nervous."
"How would you know what it's like to be nervous?" she asked, almost impatiently, "you look as though you've never been nervous in your life."
She knew that she should not speak so familiarly to a total stranger, but she was not herself. She could not accurately judge this man's nerves, of course, but she was annoyed by his assumptions about her condition. He had no idea what she was going through.
She watched the smile break out his face. It was almost lewd. She saw him place one hand on the bar and another on his thigh, close to his crotch.
"Believe me," he said, "I know what it's like to be nervous. I'm nervous right now about how to ask if I may buy you a drink."
For the first time Caroline relaxed in this man's presence. "You don't have to be nervous about that. You can ask me anyway you like. In fact, you don't have to ask me at all. Of course, you may buy me a drink."
He did buy her a drink. He bought her two drinks.
Caroline was delighted to hear that he was also taking the midnight flight to Los Angeles.
When he told her that she did not have to buy her ticket she was astounded. He explained that he had expected to travel with his daughter, but that she had decided at the last minute to spend a week in New York. He had not yet cashed in her ticket, and he would be happy to give it to Caroline in exchange for her charming company during the long and rather boring flight.
It was not the kind of offer that Caroline usually accepted, perhaps because it was not the kind of offer she often received. In fact, she had never received such an offer. To her surprise, she accepted. She was too tipsy to turn a good thing down, and she was attracted to the handsome man in the charcoal suit. He was handsome and distinguished looking. He looked close to forty, but in exceptional physical condition. Actually, he did not look close to forty. But Caroline had a intuitive feeling that he was. Her father was close to forty, and this man was very like her father. He was attractive, protective and conveyed animal grace and authority in every movement and gesture. And he had the wonderful voice.
In the bar, Caroline had felt her pussy getting wet and hot. She felt tingles in her clit and stiffening in her nipples.
For the first time she found herself looking forward to a flight.
And it was a heavenly flight.
"I've never flown first class before," she whispered.
"Honey, you don't need to fly first class; you are first class." He replied, meaning it.
They had more drinks, far better food than she had ever had in coach, good wines that never ran out.
The stewardesses had not dared ask for I.D. Caroline felt mature, adult and sophisticated. After a few hours in the air she was ready for anything.
She was so content in the company of this wonderful man, in the dark sky, the tastes and magic of wines flowing in her heating blood. She felt as though she were flying to the moon on an enchanted ship, or a magic carpet. It was marvelous, and she knew it could be even better.
They had enjoyed fine conversation and had delighted in the fine turns of each other's minds. Now Caroline was ready to enjoy his body.
The cabin was dark. Across the aisle a fat woman in mink snored, making sounds like an unmuffled motor. Even the stewardesses were sitting in the back playing cards and gossiping. No one had moved in the cabin for an hour.
Caroline reached for the man's hand. The martinis, the wines, the cognacs had fortified her courage and inflamed her lust.
She took his hand from his thigh and placed it on her knee.
"Please," she whimpered, "touch me."
"Here?" He asked.
"Yes! Here on the plane," she moaned, "and here," she guided his hand inside her skirt and up her thighs, directing him to the oasis between her legs. She needed him to touch her first class cunt.
The man was not surprised by Caroline's sudden lust. In fact, it did not seem sudden. He had been expecting it to happen.
From the moment he spied this girl in the airport cocktail lounge he could tell that she would be an exciting travel companion. He could tell from the way she crossed and re-crossed her long, slender legs, and the way she dug her graceful hands into her handbag absent-mindedly.
Joshua Ramsay had been attracted to the girl instantly. She was not like the kind of woman commonly found in airport bars.
Airport bars proliferate with a kind of woman Joshua knew too well. The perfectly coifed, sleek women who, no matter their age, always struggled to look a few or many years younger. They were women who invested too much money and two many hours in their facade. When a man cracked the facades of these women he found another kind of hardness underneath. Inside these women a man encountered a hardness, and a dryness. He had known that Caroline would be different. He recognized her youth, her freshness, her naivete. She was a beautiful woman, not at all crude, but with a lack of that certain polish that tend to put layers of crust and artifice on other women.
Joshua liked the silky feeling of this young woman's legs.
He rubbed his hand up Caroline's thigh, pressing his fingers admiringly against the firm softness of her delicate flesh.
He liked the feeling of the sheer pantyhose, but he wanted to feel her skin. He knew that it would be moist and tender, warm and delicious to his touch. He knew also that she would like the feeling of his hand on her skin, that she would want him to touch her more, further, deeper. He explored further into the mysteries inside her skirt. He pressed one hand against her thigh, taking a handful of her young flesh. He grabbed it and felt it fill his hand, almost oozing through his fingers like kneaded dough.
With his other hand, Joshua played with Caroline's bra-less tits through her sheer pink silk blouse.
During the martinis, the dinner, the wines and the cognacs, Caroline had played with the buttons of her blouse. Joshua did not know if she were doing it absent mindedly, or if she had deliberately been seducing him. Either way, Joshua was grateful. Her half-unbuttoned blouse gave him free and easy access to her twin female mounds.
He roamed with his hand from tit to tit, enjoying them both. He felt the warm ripeness of their fleshy abundance, and the smooth, soft texture of her naked skin.
With his finger he found and flicked at Caroline's nipples. They were rigid, small, delicious pearls of flesh. Her nipples were jewels. He could feel them erect and excited against his fingertips, but he wanted to see them.
It was dark in the first class cabin. Passengers were sleeping, snoring contentedly, full of salmon mousse, rack of lamb and Chateau Margaux. No one would ever know.
Deftly, Joshua removed his hand from the interior of Caroline's half opened blouse. His hand missed the warmth of her tits, but he knew he would soon get back to them, not only with his hand, but also with his eyes.
He worked expertly at the small buttons of the girls silk blouse, pealing the damp fabric from her moist flesh, unraveling the wrappings of her lovely body, exposing her charms to his devouring eyes.
Caroline felt Joshua's hands unwrapping the gift of her flesh. She wanted to give herself to him. She wanted him to have her, and she wanted to have him. She would give anything to have him. She wanted his hands on her body. She wanted his hands inside her; she wanted his mouth to lick and nibble her skin, to heat her already over-warmed flesh. She wanted to feast on him, to complete the banquet of sybaritic pleasures they had only begun to enjoy together.
She squirmed in her seat, writhing on the fabric, rotating her hips and grinding her pelvis. She felt the comfort of soft cushions against her ass, but she ached at the same time. Joshua's fingers were only inches from her cunt, inches from her clit, but it felt as though he might never touch them fully.
Pleasure seemed near, .almost here, almost now. But fulfillment was not yet promised. It lurked enticing on a horizon of her being, but it had not yet distilled its perfect ambrosia nectars in her flesh. She wanted all the bounties of ecstasy's hot explosive elixirs. She wanted Joshua's body to complete this moment that was building in her mind and flesh. She needed his body to fulfill her.
Caroline squirmed in the seat, slouching downward, slipping her ass lower on the cushion. She arched her body, coaxing her cunt closer to the tips of Joshua's fingers.
Joshua undid the last button of Caroline's blouse. He gently opened the silk wrapping of her treasures, peeling the fabric to the sides of her body.
He looked at her tits. They were perfectly formed, peaches of female flesh.
As he lowered his face to them, beginning to kiss them with his lips, he felt the wet warmth of Caroline's groin rub teasingly against his fingers. He could feel the texture of her pantyhose, and through the slightly coarse fabric he could feel the mossy webs of her pubic hair.
He moved his fingers closer to the heart of the target. Her cunt was wet with her youth, her lust, her feminine wonders.
He massaged her womanhood with his hand, feeling her soft moss, her skin and her lascivious sex dew. Her cunt was secreting generous amounts of female ambrosia.
Exploring with one hand deeper into her grove of delights, Joshua stole his other hand from her tits to reach into his own pocket.
Caroline was too entranced to follow his movements, and she did not notice as Joshua withdrew a long, sharp silver nail file.
But she felt the cold tip of it between her legs.
Joshua pierced the dense webs of Caroline's sheer pantyhose, tearing the fabric to expose her wet cunt and her clit. He was determined to feel her female tissues on his hand. He wanted to experience the naked glories of this lovely young woman.
Caroline felt the sharp silver file tearing her pantyhose. She did not care what the man might think of her. Usually she did wear panties, but it had been too hot that afternoon when she had dressed. She had almost dressed without hose. He might think it brazen for a young woman to be virtually naked under her skirt, but she did not care. Maybe she was brazen. She had been thinking and dreaming about sex for days, scarcely able to contain herself during the last days of exams before the long-awaited summer vacation.
For some reason she had not thought out and could not understand, to be home in Los Angeles with her father and brother seemed delicious and promising. It seemed the sexiest place to be.
But it was sexy where she was. She loved being high in the skies with an attractive man who desired her body. She loved the slight stabbing of his nail file against her pantyhose, and she felt it touch lightly against her own flesh, teasing her cunt and clit with its hard cold metal.
Suddenly, she felt Joshua's fingers on her flesh. His skin was warm on her own, and she felt him teasing her cunt deliciously with his fingers. She wanted more of him.
Quickly, she reached for his zipper.
She found the magic metal tab and tugged at it eagerly.
She buried her hand in the opening she had made for herself in Joshua's lap. She felt the bulge inside his shorts.
She stretched her hand open over the frontal girth of his crotch. She felt her hand expand around the volume of his maleness.
Eagerly, she closed her hand around him, filling her palm with his manhood. She felt the thickness and length of his cock. It was a long snake of flesh, full bodied, powerful. It was a magic wand. A marvel.
Caroline felt Joshua stiffening inside his pants, thrilled to her touch. As she tightened her grip around him, she felt him respond in turn. The hand on her tits made an appreciative fist around her left globe, squeezing it excitedly, and his fingers began to invade her cunt, digging further into her torrid female swamp that was fervid with desire.
She tightened her hand around him, feeling his cock growing under her touch. She felt his balls in her hand, and she loved squeezing them through his shorts. They were large, firm orbs of masculine strength, and she knew that they held many promises of potency. She wanted to feel them naked. She wanted to pull them out of his shorts.
She felt Joshua digging deeper into her cunt, spiraling a finger in the wet hot tunnel of her thrilled tissues.
"Ah," she moaned lightly. It was too delicious to continue this way. They had gone too far to go back, but they were not yet far enough; they had to go further.
Caroline turned in her seat, squirming to face Joshua.
She extracted her hand from his trousers, and began to work with both hands on the necessary task of unfastening his belt.
She maneuvered the leather and hardware that kept his nakedness locked and unavailable. She wanted to have all his masculine flesh available. She wanted the gift of his virility to fill her hands and her body. She wanted to see his naked cock, his balls, his thighs, his male loins.
Joshua stole a hand from Caroline's tits to help her unfasten his belt. Together they drew his pants open at the waist. He helped Caroline to open the waist of his trousers and his fly. He watched as Caroline dig into his shorts to extract his cock.
All its mighty inches of potency came out stiffly from the opening in his shorts.
But Caroline did not stop there. She forced her hand into his shorts to draw out his balls.
Joshua felt her forcefully maneuvering them through the opening of his shorts, and he felt his balls being coaxed out by the eager girl who wanted them to fill her hands with their heavy masculine volume.
He felt Caroline's moist palm against his heavy balls, and he watched as she lowered her face toward his groin.
Caroline flicked her tongue on the hardening shaft of his cock. She felt it heating against her tongue, getting harder, stretching out to its full great proportions. It was getting even bigger as she teased it with her tongue.
She nibbled it with her lips, feeling it pulse against her kisses. She knew that he would like her to take it fully in her mouth and suck it. She would do that for him. She would do it for herself. She wanted to suck his cock, but she wanted to lick his balls too.
She wanted to stroke his chest, to open his shirt as he had opened hers. She wanted to explore all of his strong body with her hands, her mouth, and she wanted to feel the fullness of him in her pussy. She wanted it all. He felt her lips puckering up and down the length of his hardening cock.
Then he saw her mouth open and her head lower itself on his lap. Her mouth stretched to take the entirety of his balls. He felt her mouth close around them, engulfing his balls in her hot wet mouth.
He could feel the heat of her tongue and the wonderful strokes it made on the sensitive skin of his nuts.
Caroline felt Joshua's balls filling her mouth. She felt her cheeks stretch with the inserted size of his maleness. His balls gave her a renewed curiosity for the taste of his cock.
She wanted to taste his rod in her mouth before she felt it stiff and throbbing in her cunt.
Joshua reached for Caroline's head, taking it in both hands. He lifted it from his balls, raised it to the head of his cock, and arched his pelvis, directing his hard prick into her warm delicious mouth.
He pushed her head down on his standing dick, forcing her to take inches of his hot flesh.
Caroline felt the hard flesh of his cock filling her mouth, stuffing her face with more manhood than even his big balls had given her.
And she savored every inch of it.
She made suction with her cheeks, making a fleshy vacuum of her mouth.
She stroked her tongue up and down the length of his hard cock, giving slippery sensations to every inch of his hard standing dick.
Joshua inserted a second finger into her cunt. He felt it slip in easily, her pussy almost reaching out to gobble it up.
He felt her wet tissues grab onto his fingers, squeezing them, as though they were a cock and she wanted to milk the sperm out and drink it through her hole to nourish the secret abyss of her body.
He poked further into her cunt, delighting her. If her hole was this hungry for his fingers, he could not wait to give her the full feast of his big hard cock.
Caroline arched her body forward, squirming her pelvis, pushing her cunt down deeper on his fingers, grinding her hole toward the root of his fingers.
She bucked her body in the seat, squirming, rotating, widening her cunt around his fingers. She twitched her body, gliding forward and back, pushing and pulling her cunt on the hardness of his fingers, humping her body.
She moved her pelvis and her face in rhythm, coaxing his fingers in and out of the hot hole between her legs, and slurping her stretched mouth up and down the length of his big cock.
Instantly, Caroline pulled her cunt away from his fingers, raised her sucking mouth from his cock, pulled her tits away from his caressing hand, and removed her body from his touch.
She pulled her blouse together, wrapping it tightly around her body, but not buttoning it.
She lifted her body from the seat, stood up and moved out into the aisle.
"Follow me in two minutes," she said.
Joshua watched her ass as she went down the aisle, opened the door of the lavatory and closed it behind her.
He felt his cock throb and his balls tighten.
He put them back in his pants, zipped himself up half way, casually adjusted his open belt and sat back in the seat.
He looked out the window and watched the black darkness of the sky. The earth was miles below, but the world was up here in the sky with him, waiting in the bathroom of the airplane.
A minute was enough time to spend on the view of endless darkness.