Too bad about that "no smoking" rule...

11:30pm
Flight 387, cont'd

HEY BABY GIRL, I type on my laptop, and turn it diagonally so she can read the screen.

HI HONEY, she types, and turns the computer back to me.

OXYCONTIN-GIRL IS FINALLY ASLEEP

LOL YEAH THE XANAX MUSTA KICKED IN

I HEARD THEY'RE GONNA OPEN A CVS IN HER BATHROOM

LOL...HOW MANY HOURS LEFT STEVIE

ABOUT 3 1/2 "STEPHIE"... YOU DOING OK?

YEAH THANKS...I HOPE YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU TAKING ME ON VACATION WITH YOU- YOU ARE SO WONDERFUL - I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! :-)

ME TOO BABY

Steph stands up and leans over me to open the overhead bin, pulling out a coarse blue blanket. She sits back down and drapes it over her legs, then lumbers over and pulls the laptop towards her. What she types next sends shivers up my spine:

HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF THE MILE-HIGH CLUB?

I pull the laptop back. A NICE GIRL LIKE YOU? I type.

I GUESS YOU HAVE CORRUPTED ME

SO WHAT IS YOUR PLAN

WELL, FIRST WE OPEN THE HATCH AND THROW OXYGIRL OUT, she types.

We both burst out laughing. She starts typing again.

ONE OF THE REAR BATHROOMS HAS HANDICAP RAILS. I WAS HOLDING ON TO THEM WHILE I WAS PUKING BEFORE

NICE VISUAL STEPH

DONT WORRY I BRUSHED AFTERWARDS. ITS A BIGGER BATHROOM...

AND HALF THE PLANE IS ASLEEP, I answer. I'm growing more aroused with every message we type. Sliding the laptop back and forth is slow work, and the typing is awkward. I can barely stand the anticipation as I wait for her responses.

I THINK THE STEWS ARE ASLEEP BACK THERE

STEWS?? THEY CAN'T SLEEP ON THE JOB CAN THEY

FLIGHT ATTENDANTS. WHATEVER - EITHER THAT OR THEY ARE RESTING VERY PEACEFULLY

SO TELL ME ALL ABOUT YOUR PLAN BABY

She pulls up the armrest that separated us and drapes the blanket over my legs. I feel my muscles go weak as her fingers crawl across my thigh and in between my legs. She brushes her hand gently across the bulge in my pants, then pulls it away to type.

I'LL GO TO THE BATHROOM AND LEAVE THE DOOR UNLOCKED. MEET ME TWO MINUTES LATER. DO NOT BE LATE!!!

I WOULDN'T WORRY ABOUT TARDINESS AT THIS POINT, I type. My fingers barely work. My cock is fully stiff, bending and straining against the inside of my jeans.

THIS HAS TO BE V V QUICK YOU KNOW

YOU MIGHT HAVE TO GET ME OFF BEFORE YOU GO. I MEAN LIKE, GET ME RIGHT TO THE EDGE, JUST ABOUT TO FUCKING EXPLODE

YOU MEAN RUB YOUR NICE HARD COCK UNTIL YOURE JUST ABOUT TO COME

My breathing speeds to a pant; I can feel sweat forming on my upper lip. My stomach leaps with anticipation, worse than any turbulence I've ever felt.

Her fingers creep slowly back under the blanket, under the waistline of my Levi's, under my boxers. She plays with my bare cock, softly, gently, as if stroking a baby chick. Her hazel eyes flicker up at me, her pupils huge and black with lust, her mouth closed into a horny pout.

I glance over at Deb in 13a. She's sound asleep, her head back against the seat at a strange angle. She's snoring softly but hasn't moved for an hour.

I sit up a little straighter, letting her know it's time. She stands up, and I hastily move the laptop off the tray table so she can squeeze by.

I better hope like hell there's no one else waiting for the shitter.

I check my watch, and time grinds to a halt. The seconds take hours; the minutes take days.

Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

I wonder how we'll do it. Her on my lap, facing away from me, maybe, kind of a modified reverse cowgirl? Standing up, her against the sink, each of us watching the other make horny faces in the mirror?

The blanket slides down, revealing the jean-teepee between my legs. I hurriedly replace it. Good thing she didn't unzip me, I think.

I glance at my watch. A minute twenty. A minute thirty. I shift positions in my seat; the movement, the friction of flesh against clothing gets me harder and hornier.

A minute forty-five. My heart pounds. My mouth dries out.

A minute fifty-five. Two minutes.

I toss the blanket aside and fling myself to the aisle, striding heavily towards the rear of the plane. Lights are dimmed, like a kid's bedroom in the middle of the night, and sleeping heads lean this way and that, cushioned by foamy white pillows. No one so much as makes eye contact with me.

I'm sure there's a flight attendant at the back of the plane. I'm careful not to look back there, suddenly certain that, as I reach for the door, some uniformed, overly-made up cock-blocker will shove a manicured hand in front of me, sternly reminding me that it's illegal to dip one's wick at 30,000 feet. But I reach the back of the plane, and no one stops me.

Holy fucking shit! We're gonna do this! We're actually gonna do it!

I reach for the lavatory door handle. OCCUPIED, it says. What the-

I turn to my right, to the other restroom. The door is slightly ajar. I open it. Steph is standing there. We made it!

It's small, cramped, and cold. I don't care. "Perfect," she says, draping her arms around my neck. She tilts her head and kisses me, her tongue slipping between my lips.

She pulls away and works the fly on her jeans. I do too. I barely notice the cloying, antiseptic bathroom smell all around us as I look over at Steph, violently yanking her panties down.

"Sit down," she orders. I guess that answers the position question!

I sit on the toilet seat. She lowers herself on to me, and the heat of her pussy is incredible against the drafty cold of the bathroom.

She plants her feet on the floor and lifts herself up, then slowly down again, painting my cock with her slick juices. "Mmmmmmmm," she moans.

I've conditioned myself for so long to hold back orgasms that it's hard for me to come quickly, and I know that the harder I try, the longer it will take.

I slip my hand under her blouse and over the silky cups of her bra. She leans back as she rides me, kissing my mouth, biting my ear, playing with my hair.

I pull her bra cups forcefully aside, circling my fingers slowly around her hard nipples. "Ahhhh," she whispers. The pleasure radiates through me, hot waves of electricity.

Her nipples send me right over the edge. My body goes weak, as if every ounce of energy is focused on my orgasm. I close my eyes and relax, and then I am releasing wave after wave of cum inside her.

We sit still for a long moment, holding each other in this most un-romantic of rendezvous spots.

Steph looks uneasily down at the floor. Yeah, this position can be pretty messy.

"I think you better go sit down first," she says.