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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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Turbulence
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
Occasionally, circumstance tosses individuals together
where social etiquette just can't seem to gain a
foothold. When a young man engaged to be married,
confronts insurmountable temptation aboard a 747, it
was always going to be a problem. (M/F-teen, 1st, mast)
***
"Excuse me, is that seat vacant?"
Glancing up from his spreadsheet, Greg Lancaster liked
what he saw.
Surely no more than seventeen or eighteen, the fresh-
faced youngster was, if not the prettiest girl to ever
cast a shadow across his retinas, certainly the best-
looking in his residual memory. Drooling was not an
option, and in the wake of his marginally over-
emphasised "Oh yes, of course," he clutched the lap-top
to his chest, intending for her to squeeze past to the
window-seat..
"Thanks," she replied, inching her way forward
delicately and providing Greg thereby, a momentarily
arousing view of her compact rear-end in passing. "Oh
God, please let her trip and fall in my lap," he prayed
silently, whilst watching that skin-tight little skirt
in transit, her rather shapely thighs - a work in
progress.
The moment closed out and the fantasies by necessity
re-caged. Smiling at her briefly, he returned the
notebook to his knee and continued adding data to
column "F."
The red-eye from Sydney to Perth is among the world's
stranger flights. Officially listed at three hours and
ten minutes in duration, with the head-on influence of
the 'Fremantle Doctor' – a high altitude wind that
blows-inland along the Western Australian coastline,
the flight can be protracted to well over five hours.
Conversely, the return trip can be undertaken in as
little as two hours fifty, courtesy of the same wind-
swept conditions. In lieu of the available
meteorological data, check-in had already advised this
to be a five-hour flight in all probability.
Column "F" was beginning to fade in interest with the
close proximity of Miss teenage distraction and the
cruelly appealing scent that seems to cling to scrubbed
and desirable young bodies such that she possessed. He
wondered if in five hours time he would even know her
name?
In his mid twenties himself, Greg was engaged to be
married and knew his mind was wandering along fully
undisciplined paths here. It wasn't paying heed to his
instructions quite obviously – probably the sudden
exposure to that tight little skirt he reasoned. Out of
the corner of his eye he could see she was reading-up
on what appeared to be school notes - probably for her
final exams in November he guessed. Hooked-up to her
Walkman, she seemed (and probably was) oblivious to all
around her.
As the plane taxied down the runway, she inclined her
head to glance out the window, Rain was sleeting down
now and as the 747 climbed rapidly, banking to the left
towards the western corridor, the diffused halo of the
city lights could clearly be seen to the east.
Right now though, Greg wasn't dwelling on the aesthetic
beauty of Sydney's twinkling lights from a five
thousand foot aspect, he was simply gazing at the girls
slim shoulders, pretty blonde hair swept back in the
most feminine of neat pony-tails... that spot just
beneath her hairline that he would so like to kiss...
"I don't think so Greg," the image of his young wife-
to-be smiled at him sweetly from his conscience
Column "F" snared his attentions once again, although
who really cared how the October sales figures were
going to pan out when you could be pondering instead
whether that was a conventional bra or a sexy little
push-up, whose straps were so engagingly visible
beneath the girl's lacy top.
He was still considering those very possibilities a
short time later when the girl packed away her books
and Walkman.
"Really sorry, but would you excuse me for a moment,"
she smiled at him, "I have to get to the overhead
locker."
This time he was treated to a forward view as she
sidled across in front of him. The most perfect of
young breasts passed but inches from his face. No more
than a 32A he decided, not that any span of thirty two
inches anywhere in the modern world could possibly
encapsulate a more alluring set of curves. Even that
mere hint of cleavage showed that God had been right on
his game that night back in 1987 or 1988 - whenever it
was the girl's parents had gotten substantially beyond
the light-petting stage.
It also gave Greg an opportunity to take in her facial
details, not that this did anything but worsen the
situation. A slightly softer version of young actress
Keira Knightley he decided. High cheek-bones aided by a
truly flawless complexion, set with ice-blue eyes and a
mouth – if it hadn't been kissed yet – was one that
was most definitely needed to be... and soon!.
How many hearts was this beautiful visage going to
subsequently break?... his own already headed the list.
"Still at school?" he asked as casually as possible as
she inched herself back in.
"Yes... unfortunately," she smiled, "Got my finals in
a few weeks."
"You live in Sydney?" he added, desperately wanting to
prolong the conversation.
She looked puzzled by the question for a moment. "Ohh,
no, I live in Perth. I just came to Sydney to stay with
friends during the holiday. What about you? do you live
in Western Australia?"
Her voice was as pretty as her expression. He was sure
he gulped.
"Nope, I'm a NSW boy (he chose the word
deliberately)... just going to Perth on business for a
Company meeting... budgets and boring stuff like that
I'm afraid. I think I'd rather be back studying for my
HSC," he grinned... "I'm Greg by the way."
She took his hand. "I'm Candace, nice to meet you."
'Candace' so suited her he was thinking. He had all but
forgotten his fiancee's name at this juncture. Right
then the stewardess parked her trolley alongside them
in the aisle and enquired as to their preference for a
drink. Tempted as he was to ask for a bottle of
champagne and two glasses, they settled for a ginger
ale each. He was desperately hoping she wouldn't ask
how old he was because he would have to have lied. He
knew he looked little more than twenty-two or three and
that he prayed was her assessment too.
"Pretty late for a young girl to be flying alone isn't
it?" he said, changing the subject, "We're not going to
be touching down in Perth till almost two in the
morning?"
"It's OK," she breezed, "My dad will meet me at the
arrivals gate to take me home. I'll be fine."
Greg barely had time to acknowledge this fact when the
cabin-lights dimmed and the in-flight theater flickered
on. As the credits for "The Brothers Grimm" began to
roll, Candace muttered "I'm really tired, I don't think
I can stay awake for this," as she pushed the tray back
into its upright position.
"Would you like me to get a blanket for you?" he asked,
bitterly disappointed that he was to be imminently
denied her company for the rest of the flight.
"Yes please," she answered sweetly, "It's getting quite
cold isn't it?" He hadn't really thought about it, but
now that he did – she was right. He retrieved one for
himself also from the overhead locker.
Some ten minutes later, the first time he dared glance
in her general direction, he was mortified to discover
she was still marginally awake. She smiled at him,
which not only served to magnify his voyeuristic guilt
but caused him to suffer aortic palpitations on account
of her tempting closeness. So innocent and pretty did
she look, wedged comfortably into that little niche
between the seat and fuselage, her head resting against
the small pillow, that he could but return her smile
before re-aligning his gaze dutifully upon Heath Ledger
and the small screen.
"What the Hell am I thinking?" he chastised himself
silently. "She's just a kid!"
Another ten minutes and she appeared to be asleep. He
was now able to study the facial intricacies of what
was undoubtedly one of Nature's finer achievements.
Essentially soft-featured, her skin was indeed smooth
and blemish-free. Resident in her cheeks the flush of
youth, whilst between them, that most delicate and
appealing set of lips trembled perceptibly, in sync
with her respiratory rate.
How feminine those small locks of hair that now lay
across her forehead, almost in defiance of the symmetry
of her other features, he thought to himself. Stirring
slightly, the blanket slipped and leaning over he
pulled it up for her. What he would have given to be
able to kiss her just once... even in her sleep!
Barely at the half-way point of the movie and Greg was
distracted by some unexpected lateral movement.
Restless quite obviously, the girl was now lying
against his shoulder, still comfortably wedged into her
night pillow. Unwilling to move her, he simply raised
the intervening armrest to its upright position and
retracted his own seat until gravity caused her to
nestle protectively into his upper arm.
Her face was now but inches from his, he could even
smell her sweet breath. She was an angel, of that he
had no doubt, but at that angle – an angel with
marginally visible cleavage so tempting, he had to
count backwards from ten to restore the status quo.
Most everyone else had turned off their night-lights
now and "The Brothers Grimm" was obviously playing to a
less than enthusiastic audience. He was finding the
lightly pressured contact with the young girl most
enervating and he longed for her to slip across even
more. She looked so vulnerable he almost ached with
hope.
Drawing up his own blanket, for a distinct chill was
pervading the cabin, he found it impossible to sleep.
Not that the girl was disturbing him at all – she had
neither moved or stirred in any way. The soft rise and
fall of her chest suggested she was deeply asleep and
as comfortable as a Polar bear mid-hibernation.
Unseemly thoughts were gathering on the periphery of
his consciousness. He tried ignoring them but they
would not be silenced.
"She'll never wake up – not if you're really careful
Greg."
"You just gonna sit there and let this opportunity pass
you by loser?"
It was that final insult, "What are you man? a doer or
a dreamer?" that finally spurred him into action.
Dammit, those all-tempting curves were now less than a
foot away!
Drawing his own blanket up to chest level, so as to
hide all trace of his imminent digital exploratory, his
hand inched his way beneath the coarse material.
Studying her face for the least sign of wakefulness his
fingers had encroached to within centimetres of the
underside of the girl's breasts.
His own heart-rate itself loud enough now to waken the
dead, he stopped short of his quarry. He couldn't do
this! This was sexual assault – plain and simple.
Besides. how would he ever explain his actions?... to
Candace? His fiancee? The Court?... Perhaps just one
gentle squeeze and then if she woke, pretend to be
asleep himself... only another couple of inches after
all?
Even as his hand very gently encircled the girls left
breast, barely making the slightest contact – he could
feel the heat and decisive stirrings between his own
legs. The intrinsic forbidden nature of his groping
made it just that much hotter. His fingers closed
around the young girl's curves and imperceptibly
squeezed that murderously soft and sexy mound.
Candace stirred but slightly and he was frozen with
fear though not daring to relinquish his hold, in case
such movement betrayed his encamped position. He
thought he detected the onset of a smile but could not
be sure. Again she resumed her regular breathing.
He was able to support the full weight now of her small
breast yet had he been asked to describe the feeling
right at that moment, words would have failed him.
Buoyed by his progress to date, Greg squeezed once
more, cupping her entire breast now and revelling in
the sensations being afforded him. The girl murmured
slightly and seemed almost to be nestling in to him
closer.
Moving his hand across with infinite care, he gently
grasped her right breast and was immediately rewarded
by an increased stiffening in the nether regions of his
lap. How he wished he might check the lie and contours
of the land beneath Candace's own skirt. For now
though, he was up to his fingernails in lust for the
wondrously hot little female that lay so open and
vulnerable right beside him, schoolgirl or not.
There was nothing for it – he had to do it!
Ensuring that she was covered by the blanket, pretty
much to her shoulders, he allowed his hand to drop to
the girl's waist. Proving far easier than he had
supposed, he managed to slip his hand up beneath her
top – the heat from her body cauterising his logic
circuits and over-riding all sense of caution.
At the point he reached the lower edge of her bra, so
flimsy an article, one might have supposed it was
supporting little more than just a pair of
prepubescent nipples, he gulped.
Candace, sighing now audibly, wriggled in her seat
and made as if to turn away from him. He figured he was
but moments from discovery, being unable to extricate
his hand. She would wake up and discover the facts of
the case. As luck would have it however, she settled
back in her original position, snuggling up against her
would-be lover with but a soft murmur.
On a hiding to nothing, he slipped his hand up inside
that closeted air-space and all but came in his pants
as he felt the girl's beautiful soft breast, finally
skin to skin.
Her nipple responded quickly to the intruder and as he
began to manipulate her, Candace's murmurs became more
audible. Whilst far from moaning, she was reacting to
his touch and a gentle smile was clearly evident on her
face now. More than anything he wanted to kiss her and
tell her how beautiful she was. That he could never do
this was exquisite torture indeed.
Suddenly he felt her right arm in transit beneath the
blanket, bringing her hand up to of all places – her
other breast. He dared not move, even as she commenced
pleasuring herself whilst still deeply asleep. Unable
to see, but fully able to detect, Greg watched awe-
struck as the girl's hand roamed upwards beneath the
blanket, caressing herself albeit, through her top.
The stewardess glanced across at row K in passing,
seats 9 and 10 in particular. "How sweet," she thought
to herself, that nice young man snuggled up with the
young girl there. If only her own boyfriend were so
attentive!
Past caring for his own well-being, all Greg could
think about was what wondrous prize lay hidden there
beneath that tight little skirt. If her murmurs were
anything to go by, there certainly would be no need for
a can of WD40.
Managing somehow to find an entry-window between her
upper thighs and the skirt itself, he propelled his
hand almost to her panties without making any contact
with skin – smooth and hot enough to seal inarguably,
an appointment with the legal profession. Not that it
would ever have gotten that far – Candace's father
would unquestionably be leaving him a quadriplegic and
bleeding profusely on the baggage carousel.
Asleep or not, his first-up contact with the front of
her panties produced what could only be interpreted as
an embryonic moan from those pretty lips and if she
wasn't already wet and primed – even asleep – then he
was a bad judge of female arousal.
Her legs parted, at least to the very restricted limit
that tight little skirt would allow. It was enough
though for him to slip a finger up beneath the leg of
her panties whereupon he discovered a Utopia that is
most certainly denied the average traveler.
The lips of her pussy were completely awash and there
was definitely a 'vacancy' sign hanging up there. Not
even taking care now to avoid detection, he pushed a
finger well inside the girl, passing comfortably
beneath her fully intact hymen, not that this would
have been any great hindrance given, his lust right
then.
Pumping his middle finger well into the promised land,
the girl was beginning to moan way too loud for
comfort. There was no choice. As he inclined his head
and kissed her deeply, he felt her hips beginning now
to respond to his invasive digital therapy.
He sensed her orgasm marshalling itself even before she
did. His own undies he knew were sticky as all Hell but
nothing could detract from his intent to bring her to
Heaven at thirty-five thousand feet. At the crucial
moment, her eyes flickered open. In a blind panic, he
withdrew his hand.
"Don't stop now," she whimpered in unhinged
desperation, "Please, NOT now!"
© 2005 Peter_Pan
"The Complete Harper Valley"
http://www.lulu.com/content/106537
Published Autobiography:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1411624149/qid=1134891
853/sr=8-1/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i1_xgl14/002-2816119-
7681614?n=507846&s=books&v=glance
Other erotic tales: http://www.lulu.com/content/166938
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It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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