Note: This story is a snarky little branch off of one of my most popular Bellesa stories “Comings and Goings” – a tale about a sneaky hookup in an airport bathroom thanks to the wonders of modern dating technology. You don’t have to read it to enjoy this one, but it provides another layer of context. (And it’s a pretty decent smutty read in its own right.)
Despite the fuzz of post-orgasm bliss blurring the corners of my vision, I floated my way back safely to my gate. Plopping back down in the same chair I’d sat in before, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and found two message notifications.
One from the Wow Girl—a kissing winky face and a waving hand.
And one from you.
You: It’s getting, um… harder and harder to wait for your arrival. The anticipation has been quite literally painful.
Me: I can imagine.
You: Have you thought about what you’d like me to do to you as soon you get here?
Me: Mm… I haven’t really been thinking about you at all.
Me: I’ve been a little distracted.
You: What’s up? You okay?
Me: Oh yeah, everything’s fine. I just had a very scandalous encounter with a gorgeous lady here at the airport.
You: Oh did you now?
Me: I did.
You: Will you tell me about it?
Me: Hmmm… Not sure I should… Do you think you handle it in your condition?
As soon as we settled and booked my long overdue visit nearly four weeks prior, a moratorium was placed on your orgasms until my arrival. For reasons I’ll probably never understand, you were always only too willing to torture yourself for my enjoyment.
You: Ha. I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?
As I crafted a quick summary of my antics in the ladies’ room not 10 minutes prior, the pre-boarding announcement for my flight rang out over the intercom.
Though your response to my story was nothing more than a simple Mmm, I could feel the rumble of your low groan through the screen in my palm.
You: I didn’t expect it to be *that* scandalous.
Me: Serves you right for underestimating me.
You: I promise to be more conscientious in the future. But you have to admit, that was a little mean.
Me: You love it.
Him: I never said I didn’t. It’s just that there are only so many ways a guy can subtly adjust himself in clear view of his coworkers.
I squirmed in my seat at the thought of you squirming in yours.
Me: I love knowing how much frustration I bring you.
You: Would you like to see what that kind of frustration looks like?
Me: Yes, please.
I took a moment then to look around at the other people sitting around the gate. Still, so many of them had eyes glued to their own screen. I wondered if any of them suspected what I was up to, if they were able to pick up the musk of arousal emanating from me (that I was only too aware of then, myself). I wondered too if any of them were as eyeballs-deep in a filthy moment as I was…
My phone vibrated in my palm, bringing me back to the task at, uh, hand.
I prepared myself for the incoming message—composing my frame and freezing my face in a look of casual nonchalance. Just as the gate attendant made the general boarding announcement, I unlocked the screen. Your pixelated perfection filled the text window and my mouth watered like I’d just opened a fresh jar of dill pickles.
You always got your angles just right. Your hand placement at the base, adding just the right amount of constriction to make your cock’s head—which was oozing with just a hint of translucent precum—blush a deeper shade of red. You were poking (with gusto) through your open fly, the ends of your open dress shirt acting like starched stage curtains—a perfect frame for the stage of your well-kept thatch of pubic hair and all that was nestled there—and the white, natural lighting wherever you were painted the whole canvas with an angelic sheen.
Never underestimate the potential of an excellently shot (keyword: welcome) dick pic, my friends.
Me: Oh my… I might need to go back to that bathroom stall for a minute.
You: You should definitely do that.
It seemed though that time had passed while I was caught up drooling over your lovely cock. The announcement for final boarding on my flight blared over the speakers.
Me: Too late. Boarding now!
You: Right. I’ll see you right after work tomorrow then. Let me know when you land! xx
Me: Will do. xoxo
As romantic as I find airports, the inevitable plane part of the experience can leave a lot to be desired. And for that transatlantic flight, I found myself in a middle seat between two large, particularly oblivious men.
No, I don’t know why I didn’t just pony up the extra few dollars to select my seat to avoid this exact situation. I travel enough to know better…
Thankfully, the simmering aftereffects of my bathroom orgasms left me all pliant and dozy. I fell asleep before we even left the tarmac.
And I was sleeping pretty soundly too until I couldn’t ignore the increasing pressure coming at me from either side, popping me like a pimple back to consciousness.
The acrid look I gave each of these vicious manspreaders could have borne a hole straight through the earth’s core, but do you think they noticed?
Spoiler alert: they didn’t.
At first, I refused to move and pressed subtly back into them. But whether it was because they were that oblivious to my existence or just didn’t care to acknowledge it, this technique didn’t bring about any change to the situation.
Needless to say, I was nonplussed.
I checked the time. Great—only 5 more hours of this…
With his mouth open wide enough to create an echo chamber for the rattling snores already creeping up from his throat, the man to my right was sleeping as peacefully as I should have been. Meanwhile, the man to my left was plinking away on his laptop, the screen set to brighter-than-brightness in the otherwise fairly dark cabin.
I figured that my best bet was to try and go back to sleep and pretend all of this just wasn’t happening. With my headphones in to drown out the snoring and my eye mask to block out the tiny sun next to me, I then tore the scratchy plane blanket, which I’d been absently warming between my thighs this whole time, from its plastic bag and carefully tucked it over one shoulder and then the other to drape my front, doing my best not to touch the men any more than I had to like it was some nefarious, life-size game of Operation.
Elbows were still poking over the edge of my armrests while their knees touched my outer thighs, but I crossed my legs and my arms under my blanket, zipping my body up as tightly into its midline as it could go in an attempt to create a sliver of separation.
That was as good as it was going to get.
It nearly worked too. Until the monster of a small child behind me kicked the back of my seat.
I ripped off my eye mask and huffed hard through my nose while my shoulders crawled up even closer to my ears. You’ve got to be fucking joking me…
I was ready to flip the proverbial table.
Lips pursed, jaw clenched, eyebrows sewed together at the bridge of my nose… My whole body was in a state of disdain and my grimace would have been obvious to anyone who looked. Everyone but those two loathsome orangutans, apparently.
The tighter I clamped down on myself, the more concentrated the pressure at my core grew. The energy in me then was dense, like all the air had been strangled out and all that was left is hard, packed, suffocating tension.
And then, my pussy gulped for air.
Now, I was admittedly caught off guard by this sudden contraction. It probably a lot to do with the fact that I was still coming down from having hooked up with that babe in the bathroom and the anticipation of finally seeing you again after our time apart. But there was also something cathartic in this sudden and immediate tension that I couldn’t help but dig deeper into. So I did precisely that.
Focusing on my whole pelvic region, I pressed my thighs even closer together. I clenched everything from my abdominals to my knees, working my way down to more and more isolated spaces until only my vaginal walls were pulsing in on themselves. Every concentrated squeeze brought me a little closer to the edge, though it was difficult to maintain any sort of rhythm; the more excited I got, the more my discipline waned. My closed eyelids mimicked the pulsing contractions in my cunt, squeezing a little harder along with each one, rolling my eyes even deeper into the darkness at the back of my skull.
As I went through my clandestine exercises, I thought about how much the mere existence of these two obtrusive men had upset me. I thought about how much more conscientious and self-aware you were and the way you touched me, the way you were going to touch me in half a day’s time. Somewhere between that train of thought and the echoes of the encounter with my Wow Girl, I slipped away and found myself blissfully enveloped inside my own body.
Until the sleeping one shifted and pulled me back to the world where they still existed. With his face tilted towards me, I could feel the idea of his breath on my shoulder. I glowered at him and clamped down on my next contraction, holding it as long as I could as I shot daggers into his forehead. My chest heaved a little harder into my crossed arms while my thigh twitched against him and my knees shuddered.
Utterly ambivalent to what was happening right next to him, he didn’t so much as stir.
In that same moment, the man on the other side adjusted himself and his knee knocked into my other side. Just as I turned to glare at him, he scratched his balls and set back to work on his keyboard. My lip curled; I hated him even more for that. I harnessed that animosity and squeezed down with more intent on my pelvic floor. The tension between my legs was growing so intense that it nearly hurt, which only made me want to chase it even more.
I turned back to the seat in front of me and closed my eyes. My clenching was fairly steady and rhythmic, but the volume that had been flushed out before was swelling back in again. The solid density of my frustration melting, filling my spaces with liquid need. I was ready then to dive in.
Slowly, without disturbing the men on my armrests, I slinked one hand down, sliding it beyond the waistband of my pants. I stared at the sleeping man as I did so, daring him to look at me and still have no idea what was going on under my blanket. I was met with a surge of heat as I carefully dipped my finger into the wetness pooling there and traced slow, tiny circles around my swollen clit.
It didn’t take long then.
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, scrunched up my face, and braced myself as a slow and sultry release bloomed and washed over me. Pushing out while holding myself in, my heart pounded into the forearm still wrapped around my midsection. I kept my breath as steady as I could, exhaling slowly through my nose. I glared at the unperturbed snoring man, imagining the growl I wanted to snarl at him as my impressively silent orgasm melted in me, through me, flooding my constricted limbs.
In the dim of the cabin, I breathed through the more subtle reverberations still thumping softly into the cushion beneath me and laughed softly to myself. Who knew there was an upside to the manspreading pandemic?
Eventually, I pulled my hand away from the comforting warmth radiating from between my legs and wiped my fingers on the scratchy blanket. Without further hesitation, I jostled the gross snoring man awake with that same hand.
“Excuse me, I need to get up.”
Groggy and disgruntled, he fumbled with his seat belt, reluctantly standing to make way for me. I didn’t thank him for moving; I gave him a smug grin on my way past and headed to the toilets.