Stories I Create On…

Flying today. An unedited sketch for you.

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“I’ll have to call my husband.”

That catches my attention. I’m on the aisle and glance to my left to see a man with shaggy salt and pepper hair beside me. He’s wearing a fedora and a suit jacket with jeans. To me, he’s slight in build and I’m sure I’m taller than he is by five inches at least. By the window is a thin blonde woman with her hair pinned up in a messy bun and her lap filled with a slew of writing paraphernalia.

Are they joking? The level of extended closeness on planes makes listening in too easy. The jolt of her words makes me slightly more attentive.

He mumbles something about being her boyfriend and leans in for a kiss. My mind goes wild.

I picture her husband, a burly man with huge hands and a barrel chest. He’d be fit, the definition of virile, a paragon of male perfection. His hair a rich brown, his skin a healthy bronze, his muscles prominent in his chest and thighs. I picture him sitting at the end of a large four poster bed, his arms and legs tied tight to a chair, his big cock standing tall and leaking precum as he watches…

His wife is splayed out naked on the bed, her skin pale against the black of the sheets. Her legs open as her lover’s salt and pepper head moves between.

The perfect cuckold. While her husband strains against his bonds, nothing but lust vibrates through his body. His eyes would be the color of honey that darkens to amber as he watches. He has to give way to the older man’s expertise as well as his obvious helplessness. He can’t explain the emotions roiling inside him, lust being the hardest to explain.

She’d gaze down the bed at him, her tiny body writhing with pleasure.

“Do you see what he does for me?” Her back would arch, pushing her breasts high. “Do you see?”

He’d only groan in reply, his eyes fixed on the point where her lover feasted on her cunt. Her lover had skill and patience on his side, he knew her body well because they’d been lovers a long time. Her every moan makes her husband hotter, harder, closer to losing control.

His cock aches for what he’s denied, what he can’t possibly give her, what he wants desperately to give her. Another man’s mouth on what was his shamed him… Aroused him to an embarrassing level.

Her husband’s in real danger of cumming all over himself as her lover pushes her closer to the edge.

The plane taking off pulls me out of that particular fantasy. It’s been a while since I’ve indulged in mental erotica and now my mind won’t slow down.

I find myself glancing sideways at him often through the flight. At his hands that look strong with blunt nails. At the crotch of his jeans with a definite bulge situated to the right. Every shift makes me wonder.

Could he work such magic with his mouth?

Maybe his mouth on me while I take care of her husband’s neglected cock. Ah, but that’s a story for another time, maybe…