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Subject: CEF: 36,000 Feet (mf, voy, dom) by Caesar
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36,000 Feet

by Caesar, copyright 1997

Don't you just hate falling asleep on the plane?  The vibrations, the
ackward angles the constant interruptions.  I prefer reading a good
book to dropping off to sleep.  Yet, on a long flight, I normally
dropped off.  Blame it on the boredom.

Perhaps what was worse than sleeping on a plane was waking.  Yet, on
this flight, I found a more enjoyable way to wake.  Simply put, with a
hand gently fondling my crotch through my pants.  Now, know that I had
no idea that such a thing would or could happen.  My spouse was on the
other end of this flight and I knew no one on the plane.

I sat, eyes closed, realizing my hardness was painfully pressing into
my jeans and that a hand fondled me.  How long had that been going on?
Had I slept and been touched for over an hour?  Yes, I knew, it was
very possible.

I hadn't moved, my eyes glued shut, as I tried to remember whom I sat
next too.  I sat by the window, as I normally enjoyed watching the
midnight lights of cities as we passed them, and I remember the seat
next to me was empty.  I became bored and probably fell asleep because
it was cloudy and I couldn't see anything outside the porthole.  The
seat next to that was occupied, but for the life of me, I could not
remember whom it was.  Male or female I wondered, and prayed it was
female?  How did she look?

I couldn't remember.

The hand was excrutiatingly patient, moving featherlike for an
indeterminent amount of time before squeesing me firmly, as if testing
the depth to which I slept.  If anything could be judged by being
fondled in the middle of the night, in a darkened plane and miles
above the earth, its that I assumed the fingers and hand belonged to
someone experienced.  How else could they fondle me, possible for a
rather long time, as I still slept?  That caused me to consider it was
one of two types of people; an older, experienced woman or a man.

Gawd, I prayed it was not a man!

Yet, as the minutes passed and my mind woke and became less clouded
with sleep I imagined that it was indeed a male touching me.  That
thought alone caused me enough worry that my member started to wilt.
Its a catch-22 situation, to want that touch to continue but feared
whom it belonged too.  I had to look, else, I realized, the hand would
withdraw when I became soft.

Most of the other passengers had their lights turned off and the cabin
was in a gray darkness as I squinted out of one eye.  At first I could
not even see anyone next to me, but a shadow.  Yet, it soon took on
form.  Yes, a face, pale white skin, glasses, short straight hair... a

Or perhaps I should call her simply, a woman, 'lady' may be pressing
the boundries of that term.

In fact, she was as I had guessed, an older lady.  Just how old was
difficult to asertain in the dim cabin through slitted eyelids.

By the continued movements of the hand and the direction her eyes were
aimed, right at my crotch, it was obvious she hadn't realized I was

Damn, that hand felt good!  No longer was I in danger of going soft.

I had said she was no 'lady', what lady would fondle a stranger while
he slept on a flight thousands of feet about the earth?  Yet, the
brief glimse I had suggested she was just that.  If looks can be taken
into account.

A pale skirt with tan nylons, a loose off-white blouse and several
descrete, and expensive, rings and earings all helped with that
interpretation.  The face, attractive may be the wrong word so I shall
call it striking, revealed her age gently.  Yet, I guessed she was at
least fourty years old.  So, at least ten years older than I.

Coming towards our seat, a stewardess interrupted the bejeweled hand
and I waited anxiously for it to return to its delightful spot upon my
lap.  But it did not, much to my discomfort.  Painfully my cock
pressed against the rough fabric of my jeans.  Why did she not
continue?  Did she guess I was awake?

I squinted yet again towards her, and saw that she too had her eyes
closed, laying back with her short brown hair laying against a tiny
airline pillow.  So, feeling braver, I opened my eyes nearly fully to
look upon her.  She was like an older woman everyone knows but rarely
does one get close to these cold strikingly attractive older ladies.
Yet, inside the cold perfect exterior was a fire that desired and was
adventurous enough to fondle me as I had slept.

Slowly, that jeweled hand moved down from her lap towards her knee.  I
caught my breath when I saw it reach the nylon and then move back
towards her... beneath her skirt.  She could not be doing what I
think, or hoped, she was doing?

Her knees parted slightly, enough to give room for that hand to move
directly to the place between her legs.

A moist glistening tongue came out of her small mouth and licked her
red lips so very slowly.  Her eyes clenched behind those small-framed
expensive glasses.

I watched her respond to that hidden hand and I felt incredible
passion and lust right then.  I've never before been a voyeur or had
tendencies to peek upon another person, yet here I was watching a
woman a decade older than I masturbate silently merely a few inches
from me.  It was thrilling.  It was dangerous.

I wanted more.

What was it that had caused her to open her eyes, did my breathing
change?  Did I accidently press my arm against hers?  Or did she
simply wish to look upon me as I was now looking upon her?  I cared

I only cared that she froze in what she had been doing.  Twice she
stopped doing what I was enjoying, touching me and then touching
herself, and I didn't want her to stop again if the chance presented
me with it.

The lady's, and yes that is how I thought of her, eyes grew wide in
surprise and perhaps a little fear.  Her hand froze beneath her skirt
and then slowly started to disengage.  I wanted to tell her not to
stop, that the sight of her was incredible sexy, that I lusted after
the simple touch of her hand.  Yet I wasn't alone, I shared the cabin
with several dozen other passengers, most of whom looked asleep.

Who was more surprised when my hand reached over and pulled her
closest knee towards me, spreading her thighs farther apart?  She
gasped when I touched her warm smooth inner knee and held her breath
as the skirt was forced higher up her thighs as those thin shapely
legs spread.

I was delighted and surprised to find the lady wore thigh-high
stockings and a garter belt.  The only time I had seen this on a live
woman was when my wife wore them for the first and only time on my
thirtith birthday.  That had turned into an exciting and exhausting
evening, I hoped to repeat that feeling now.

She didn't resist but watched me intently as my hand generously
fondled her stocking clad leg and finally, her smooth pale white skin
above.  I could feel her heat from that smooth sexy skin, and even
thought I felt moisture.  Could it be the moisture from her sex?  God
I hoped so.

The hand that had been touching herself, and most probably me,
clenched the arm of her chair but disengaged when I pulled it towards
me.  She watched amazed as I brought those thin fingers up to my face
and smelt and then licked them clean.  Her juices still coated them.

She tasted heady, raw.  And I imagined that this pussy had not felt a
man in a very long time.

When satisfied with her taste I lay her hand back on the inside of her
thigh, high up upon her pale skin.  When I looked back into her face,
she looked surprised and I could read her attempt to decipher my
actions, to read what was my intentions.  To be honest, I had no
intentions, I simply wanted to enjoy this mysterious woman and I
thought nothing else but my immediatly pleasure.

Still she didn't move so I leaned over and placed my lips next to her
ear.  "Do it", I ordered.  Her face turned towards mine and she looked
into my eyes intently as she nodded.  My eyes again turned downwards,
to her lap.

The lady closed her eyes, lay her head back against the pillow and
slid her hand back upon the last few inches of skirt hiding that
treasure from my eyes.  She sighed loudly and her hips started to move
in time to her slight movements of her hand.

Here I was, feet from a dozen other people, thirty-six thousand feet
above sea-level watching an older lady masturbate a mere foot from me.
I couldn't actually see between her legs, but I didn't care.  The
whole situation was so erotic that a generous view of her sex may have
actually soiled it.  Strange as that sounds, its completely true.

With my lips back near her ear, "I felt your hand earlier."  She froze
for a brief second before doubling her efforts and biting the bottom
of her lip.  I could read her determination to enjoy this moment with
the same level of desire as my own.

Was she surprised at being discovered?  Embarrased?  Or, as I hoped,
extremely turned on?

I licked the tip of her ear and she shivered in response.  "Aren't
your nipples sensitive?"  She nodded even as her free hand came up and
grasped her far breast outside her blouse.  The added sigh proof of
her pleasure.

This woman was getting extremely turned on, and I looked up to make
sure no one was witness to our pleasure.  The cabin was mostly dark,
and I could not even see the movements of the stewardess foreward.

"Submissive slut aren't you?"  What was coming over me?  I've never
talked to my wife like this, no matter how passionate I become.  Yet
here I was talking harshing to this lady I didn't even know.  And the
truely strange and exciting part - she nodded affirmatly.

I again pulled her hand from between her thighs, roughly I may add.
She didn't open her eyes but squirmed agressively against the seat as
I studied the abundant clear liquid coating much of her hand.
Obediantly she opened her mouth and took the index finger I pressed
into her, and sucked her own juices clean.  Seconds later the next
finger was in my mouth, and then another.  Her taste was extremely
exciting, like a sexy woman's should taste like.  The only way to
describe it was it tasted like sex.

I again whispered, "Now put that hand back and fuck yourself
slut... but imagine its that hard cock you felt earlier."  She even
smiled at this command even as she moved her hand upon under her skirt
and, I imagined, she practically attacked her own sex.

Now, following my instructions, I could hear the sound of her super
heated wet vagina as the fingers plunged in and out.  Obscene.  Yet
extremely sexy.

I kissed all around her neck and ear as her passion came close to
waking all within listening range.

Finally I commanded, "Finish for me slut!"

And you know what?  That older lady did just that.

It was as if she had been waiting for my explicit approval.  I simply
sat back and watched amazed as her body contorted and quivered as the
shocks shot through her body.  It was the most visible orgasm I have
ever witnessed, even my wife's included.

Slowly the eyes opened and I guessed the moment was past, her
submissive tendencies shot away with the grinding teeth, sweaty
glistening white skin and clenching eyes.  But nothing.  She just sat
there, her hand other hand did drop from her breast, but I guessed
that to happen in exhaustion.  So I again pulled that limp hand from
her, now, wet thigh and presented it to her.  I watched her as she
watched me even as she daintily licked each milimeter of her hand of
her own thick spend.

God, I know I've said it before, what a fucking sight!

Clean but wet with her saliva, I pulled it away from her face and then
turned my attention lower.  Her average breasts, I guessed a 'b' cup,
rose and fell rapidly as she breathed quickly.  Pointy small nipples
made prominant points behind the blouse and bra.


With the shadows and that inch or so of skirt, I could not see what I
finally desired to look upon.  She didn't move, as I willed her too.
Yet she allowed my hand to gently pull her near knee even further
apart, with her leg now over the arm of the chair.  The skirt was
nearly high enough.  A simple rough yank, and the skirt was up above
her hips revealing all.

I know not what I had imagined, yet the vagina before me was very
sexy.  I could actually see the sexual secretions coating the abundant
amount of short curly brown hair.  I could feel her eyes upon me as my
hand reached out and my eyes took in everything.

The lips of her sex felt meaty and loose to my gently probing fingers,
the inner labia throbbing hotly, the thick hair matted, and the
moisture sticky and warm.  I loved it.

My fingers moved lower until I actually poked her anus, which caused
her to tense up slightly.  I pushed my center finger in, testing the
tight anal ring.  Her hands grasped the arms of her chair as I forced
the digit to the second knuckle.  I could also sense her discomfort,
and I discovered some new distant part of me enjoyed it.

I looked back up into her face and saw her worry, and perhaps a little
pain.  I whispered in her ear, "Virgin?"  The meaning obvious.  She
nodded again affirmative.

Pulling that digit I moved it back up to that seemingly loose but very
inviting hole and plunged a finger into her.  The lady relaxed
noticibly and sighed in enjoyment.  I could not resist, "You have one
wet gorgeous cunt."  She smiled shyly and then did something that
surprised me, she clenched her sex.  Now, I had thought her loose but
when she clenched those inner muscles I found that my single finger
was trapped.  I actually felt a tremor of my own when she did that and
could not help but groan into her ear.

She looked upon me in pleasure and I at her in lust.

Without any word or indication from me, the older lady reached over to
my lap and began to unbutton my jeans.  Hastily, enough that I knew
she was not completely exhausted, she pushed my jeans down and pulled
my hard cock out.

Her eyes followed mine, as if to read my pleasure or displeasure as
she dropped her raised leg back down to her seat and started to lean
foreward.  I knew her intention, or at least hoped, and smiled in
agreement to the direction she was aiming.

My hand pulled from between her legs, but I could care not.

The lady licked her lips and pulled her glasses off just before my
cock entered into her mouth.  I stole another look about the cabin and
didn't see anyone so closed my eyes and sat back.

She had a talented cunt, a virgin asshole, and a passion so strong as
to have sex with a stranger miles above the earth.  Yet this woman,
several years my senior, sucked upon me slowly, nearly lovingly.  My
own wife merely sucked me for my pleasure.  I thought this lady sucked
me for her own pleasure.  She truely enjoyed her actions.

With so much erotic attention I was enjoying this evening it wasn't a
surprise that I felt my cock begin to clench in familiar spasms.  The
lady removed her mouth and clenched firmly the muscle beneath my balls
to stop the spasms.  I opened my eyes in amazement, wanting, no
needing, that release.  Stopping it actually hurt, so enpassioned was
I.  Yet, she again suckled me, slowly and lovingly.

This continued for what seemed an eternity.  Sucking, spasms, smooth
lips, and teasing tongue.  I was pressing my hips up to meet her
mouth, pressing her head down to meet my hips, gasping with a single
swish of her tongue, and groaning with need each time she stopped my
release.  I needed that orgasm, I may be weak in admiting, yet so hot
had I become I was nearly beyond my own senses.  And the pain, can it
be described?  How each time my release was prevented a dull ache
spread out from my balls, causing me more discomfort and pain as the
minutes passed.

Then it happened.  My orgasm even surprised me.  The lady didn't lift
her head or press below my balls to stop my release.  Instead, she
lifted her face until only the head of my cock was submerged and then
preceded to suck every drop I could shoot from my balls.

Never before had I shot so much come, or felt so much energy shoot out
the head of my dick.  It seemed to last forever and without a doubt
was the most enjoyable orgasm I've ever experienced.

I sat back gasping as the gentle mouth sucked then licked me clean.
She even replaced my penis back in my pants and buttoned me up.  Then
she tensed up and I looked to the direction her head was turned in.

Between two seats, on the other side of the isle, I could see the face
of a teenage boy.  His big eyes must have seen all.  I then looked
into the face of the lady and saw her embarrasement, her shamed face.
This was no woman that often did this sort of thing, and some distant
part of me was glad because neither did I.

Hours later, in the arrival terminal, my youngest son slammed into my
legs as my two other children followed their mother towards me.  My
loving wife wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug and her whisper
in my ear, "God I missed you!"  I knew she meant more than just
another body at the dinner table as her pelvis pressed against my own.
Then my kids each had a turn hugging and kissing me.

For some reason, just then before retiring with my family to find my
luggage, I turned my head to see that same sexy lady holding a tiny
baby with two twenty-something females about her.  Those sexy eyes
looked up and meet mine and she turned suddenly red-faced even while a
tiny smile came to her lips and whispered soundlessly, "thank you".

The chubby woman, of the two, talked to the baby and I could just make
out the words, "Say hello to your grandmother darling!"

Caesar's Archive Site:

Caesar's Erotica:


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