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The airport was bustling at six o’clock on a Tuesday evening. Snow was beginning to blanket the area, and while flights were still coming and going, visibility was rapidly deteriorating. Please clear my flight, I thought. Pleeeeeease. I wanted to go home. My gate was already packed with people. I pulled up a piece of floor and sat against the window, facing a short row of seats. After settling onto the floor, I glanced up at the people facing me. Two were occupied by a couple salesman-type guys. Two by an elderly couple on the verge of nap-time. The last seat, directly in front of me, was occupied by a young woman in her early thirties. She was wearing a thin, navy blue turtleneck sweater and a tan skirt that ended a few inches above her knees when sitting. The sweater was stretched taut over a pair of very full breasts. Except for a pair of brown leather, low-heeled, calf-length boots, her legs were bare. Ringlets of chestnut-brown hair framing healthy pink cheeks; bright blue eyes; tastefully rouged lips that silently etlik escort with whatever she was reading. My eyes lingered on those lips for far longer than they should have. They just looked so soft! The kind of lips capable of delivering the tenderest of kisses. I wasn’t surprised when an announcement came over the PA system to let us know our flight was delayed by two hours. The two sales guys took the opportunity to visit one of the restaurants. The older couple moved over a seat to give the woman some more elbow room. I dug a book from my suitcase and did my best to look disinterested in the people around me, but every movement the woman made was visible in my peripheral vision, triggering my instinctive need to look up. When she moved, my focus tended to fall on the exposed skin between her boots and the hem of her skirt. Every so often, she would uncross and re-cross her legs, and I kept hoping I’d glance up at the right moment to catch a glimpse of what was hiding between her keçiören escort thighs. I felt like a creeper, but my sex-deprived mind found the temptation too strong and the “reward” too great to allow me to focus on anything else. She shifted again, uncrossing her legs so she could twist around in her seat and check for updates on the screen behind her. The movement pushed her knees far enough apart for me to admire milky white skin that converged on a patch of pale blue satin. The fabric stretched taut over her mound, revealing the cleft between… Oops. Her knees snapped shut. She had turned back around. I tried to pretend that I’d just been staring in her general direction rather than directly between her legs. I dropped my gaze back into my own lap and attempted to focus on my book. I risked another look, this time at her face, expecting that she would be back to her iPad, or at worst, picking up her bags to go sit elsewhere. It was neither. She was staring back at me with an kızılay escort expression that said, ‘could you be any more obvious?’ Her frown changed to a smirk. The gap between her knees widened. Using two fingers from each hand,she pulled the panties tight against herself, revealing the outline of her pussy lips. I glanced over at the elderly couple. They had somehow managed to nod off, so I returned to ogling. I smiled a little and nodded to express my appreciation. Now her look seemed to say, ‘There, happy now, perv?’ The next thing she did surprised me even more. She hitched her skirt upward so it was bunched around her waist. This meant that the hem was now scarcely below her crotch. My cock swelled and throbbed against the restrictions of my own clothing and I couldn’t help but flick a finger over the tip, which set off muscle twitches that resonated to the base of my shaft. She drew her legs closed again, clearly amused by my fascination. Your turn, she mouthed, each consonant articulated by those amazing lips. God, I wanted to see them wrapped around my cock. A wet spot was forming near where I’d touched myself. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ ‘Nope. I showed you mine. It’s only fair.’ ‘But, all the people…’ She shrugged and began to work her skirt back into its original position.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32