Hank slowly widened the lavatory door and he and the young man squeezed into the cramped space beside Veevee and the girl she was kissing. He closed the latch and the lights brightened. The vibration of the airplane seemed louder, but with them practically on top of one another, no one would have to speak up to be heard.
"Hi, honey," Veevee called, breaking out of the kiss. "This is Monica," she added, introducing the brunette, "and you must be Tom," she said to the young man.
Monica looked flushed and sheepish and nervously brushed at her hair, searching her boyfriend's face for signs of approval. Tom grinned back at her goofily, and she gave him a little smile.
"'S cool, Mon," Tom said. "Geez, you know it was OK, I was out there looking at you."
Monica laughed and gave her boyfriend a big smile. "Veevee here, she's really something," she said, keeping her voice low. "I was waiting all quiet, and she bombs in, smiles at me, cops what I'm doing, says 'Me too!' and gives me a big wet one!"
"The condom on the sink was kind of a giveaway," Veevee said. Hank looked down and saw two wrapped condoms, his and Veevee's Kimono next to a Lifestyles that must be Tom and Monica's.
Tom looked at Veevee and blinked, realizing where he was. "Wow," he said, his vision filled by four big bare breasts and two pretty faces smiling at him. The tip of his cock brushed against Veevee's soft, short travel skirt. "Wow," he said, too dazed to come up with anything coherent to say to Monica and Veevee. His eyes dipped down before flashing back up. "Your b... You're so cool."
"Monica," Veevee said, "you didn't tell me what a complete sweetheart your boyfriend was. And what a man!" she said, circling her cupped hand in a tiny wave at Tom's impressive erection. "Hank honey," she said to her husband, "come join the party!" She twisted at the hips, reached around Tom and clip-zipped Hank's fly down, freeing his own respectable hard-on. Monica squirmed as Veevee's other hand shifted inside her short-shorts.
Hank cleared his throat. "Thanks Vee," he said, shifting to try not to crowd Tom, who wasn't into "that gay stuff". Where Hank was standing in the tight space, he could hardly avoid pressing his erection against Tom's jeans, so he decided to sit on the closed seat lid. He reached under Veevee's skirt and gave her a squeeze on the rump.
Veevee giggled. "Guess we shouldn't waste time," she said in a loud whisper. She kicked off her slip-on shoes and cast aside her wrap-around knit skirt. "Peel my tights?" she asked her husband.
Hank managed to get Veevee's cotton tights down off her hips, but couldn't do any better with one hand. "Can't really reach," he said. "Tom, could you help Veevee off with her tights?" he asked.
"Sure thing," the young man said. He pulled down on Veevee's tights and uncovered her to the knees, struggling to get them lower.
Hank smiled at Veevee's round bare buttocks, shifting with her weight as Tom tugged. He never got tired of looking at his wife's body. Some days at work, thinking of her was the only thing that kept a smile on his face. Thinking of what they were going to do when he got home. A quickie in the bathroom with the shower running. Maybe in the bedroom if Gary and Lil were out. Before the kids, anywhere in the house. He never understood guys that would rather kiss a beer at the end of the day than their wives. He gazed at his wife's pretty butt and stroked his cock lightly.
As Tom worked Veevee's tights down, Veevee caught Monica's eye. Lifting a hand to Monica's cheek, she cupped the young woman's face and bent forward to kiss her lightly. "How are you doing, sugar?" she asked. "Still OK?"
"God yes," Monica said. The light flashed off her glasses. She giggled. "I'm good. Tom, she has such soft lips," she said. "I've got to kiss her again. But don't go 'way, babe, you're my club date." She ran her fingers into Veevee's hair and squeezed her hands tight closed, capturing Veevee's head. "I'm gonna kiss you again," she said, looking into Veevee's eyes. "I never kissed anyone with such, such, such fuck-me lips. I've gotta..." She pulled Veevee's face to hers. Hank could see her jaw working as she devoured his wife's lips with hard, deep kisses.
Hank wondered if Monica had been the instigator for the young couple's visit to the first class lavatory.
Monica loosened her grip, and now she and Veevee were tangling tongues in the air. Monica was breathing fast and deep, with little pants and gasps. Veevee was crooning softly, gentle little noises of encouragement and appreciation.
Tom grunted, struggling down to one knee to get Veevee's tights all the way down. The side of his head was against Veevee's butt, his short brush-cut hair sliding over her skin as he tried to work her tights off one foot. Tom's erection softened with the distraction of performing his awkward task in the tight space.
Veevee reared her head up. "Ee-hee-hee, that tickles!" she said with a little laugh. Tom tried to move his head back. "No, silly," she said. "Press up tighter, it won't tickle so much." She pressed her butt back against his head.
"Oof," he said, trying to keep from falling over into Hank's knees.
"Monica, girl," Veevee said, "you are just soaking." She moved her fingertips slightly in Monica's warm, wet furrow. "We have to get you out of those shorts." Veevee caught Monica's eyes, and Monica nodded. She undid Monica's button fly with her free hand, and the skimpy denim shorts slid right to the floor, revealing Veevee's other hand inside a pair of white panties printed all over with a single brief text. |