Part One of Training the Vixen
Whenever I travel to train or go to conferences there is invariably a feeling of sexual excitement at whom I might meet or simply fantasise about. I was in for a surprise this time round though…
I hate leaving the Mother City, be it pelting with rain or sublimely sunny. It was one of those times that taking off at Cape Town International, was bound to be a rocky experience. The plane was packed for a Sunday night flight and the thought of having to land, find car, drive to B and B did not fill me with much enthusiasm. Its not that I am a bad traveller its just dam tiring! I dream of a chauffeur… but I digress. I boarded with my laptop and handbag (yes I do have a handbag, I am girly when needed) and settled into my window seat. I fly frequently and Row 8F in Kalula is my favourite.
I am a people watcher by nature and I entertain myself by watching the milling masses at an airport by making stories about them. There was someone that I had spotted, I think it was that mane of hair that caught my attention, and well she had a cute ass too. I imagined propositioning her (not being slapped of course this is fantasy you know) and being led to the airport lounge for private flyers and a ravishing session occurring in full view of all (once again fantasy – I would never do this)
So well there I am all juiced up from my little private happening in my head when I looked up to a deep pool of brown eyes staring down at me as she stowed her luggage away - and calmly slid into the seat next to me. Panic - did she get that I was watching her? Could she see the lust looks, can she read minds? I wriggled in my chair. But NOOO she talks… she introduced herself with a winning smile and said that she likes to sleep on the plane. Well ok, that’s fine, I will just continue to look at you and take you to the teeny toilet and fuck you senseless in my mind then…
God does it ever happen with you that you drive yourself nuts with lust thoughts at the most inappropriate moments?
Well the Kalula ladies announced that our cell cell phones etc were to be switched off, aircraft jokes inserted where needed and we took off, shite bumpy it was all right. I was glad when we where through the clouds and heading north - the citys lights fading. I pretended that my eyes were closed and kept them trained on Miss Luscious. I should have really closed my eyes because what I saw made my ovaries flick flack. She had unbuttoned her top just enough for her cleavage to be verging on popping out and her hand was moving subtly between her crossed leg. She had angled herself to face me. Subtle – she was looking at me too. I opened my eyes fully and whispered
“There is a bathroom you know”
And she replied – “Yes I know, just think of what I am doing when I go”
And with those words sauntered too the loo. Oh my Gods, I am sure that I wet myself right through my jeans and the ache was too much to bare. So I got up and went and waited outside – I could see her in minds eye. Jeans at her ankles, standing wide legged and touching herself, slowly at first, little gasps escaping in sheer delight and gradually the wet sounds of her climaxing, face grimacing and slumping onto the seat to get her breath.
She opened the door – slightly flushed and murmured
“I thought that you might need to…”
Well that had me floored, I hurriedly closed the door and well yes did what I had just imagined. When I returned to my seat she asked me if I felt better. Cripes – I just raised my eyebrows and replied that orgasms make me sleep better and closed my eyes.
Not another word was exchanged and when we landed and collected our luggage all that passed between us was a lingering look that had me on edge. I collected the training material from cargo and headed off to the bed and breakfast with a british lady telling me where to drive, love GPS don’t you?
I phoned Mr Delivery for my order, ate, surfed. My thoughts kept returning to the woman on the plane, became agitated – showered and passed out. The next day I was in for a delightful surprise…
©Tass 2009
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