The Long Flight Home
I’m 28 and have been dating for 11 years now. I’ve had only 1 boyfriend but I wasn’t stupid enough to have only one partner. We both met in college, and in an instant I knew he was someone I’d want to be with. We had amazing chemistry. My name is Pallavi & to know more about me, my bf and another instance of me having fun, read my first story titled The New Office Intern. I don’t have the biggest breasts, so people here hoping I’ll describe myself as a 36-24-36, will be disappointed. I’m not very fair either. I’m brown skinned, 32C breasts which give them a nice shape and don’t let them hang. My waist is 28 and my butt is slightly heavy at 35. While it’s a pain to get a nice fit of jeans, men like the round butt. I work in an IT company, thanks to which I got to travel to London on the client site. It was a short visit, just a week, and was probably to keep me happy since I hadn’t traveled for a while. I did all the touristy stuff and didn’t have an opportunity to meet many people or make new friends. Just some folks in the company, and I was on my way back. British Airways is the English version of Air India. Their air hostesses are old and grumpy; their stewards are bald and have bellies. No eye candy for me. I was traveling on this class called Premium Economy, again not like I would have celebrities around me. The only comfort was that I was on the window seat, and there would only be 1 person next to me. I just hoped it won’t be some old, gassy Indian Uncle. No offence, but Indians tend to fart on flights a lot, and I hate it. But my luck was about to change. Along came this 6 foot tall, lean Englishman. He was adorable. I gave him a broad smile and he nodded back. It was an 8 hour long flight, and I really hoped he would talk to me. He sat down next to me, took out his Bose headphones and started watching something. Disappointed, I looked out over the wing as we prepared to take off. 20 minutes into the flight, the stewardess asked us for any drinks, and I asked for white wine. He did the same. As she gave us a mini bottle, I tried to start some conversation. “It isn’t that great, the flight wine. I had some really good ones in London”. “Yeah”, he shrugged his shoulders, as if to say what to do? “Is it your first time to India?” “No, I’ve been there once before. Was it your first time to London?” “Yes, I really liked it. I would love to visit again” “Nice”, and he went back to his headphones. This was not what I was hoping for. I looked down at me. I was wearing a red t-shirt and leggings. I couldn’t change, that would appear desperate. So I pulled the magic trick that my bf loves. I pulled up my blanket, and from under it, unclasped my bra hook. I pulled it off one arm, then off the other, and then completely out from under my t-shirt. The flight AC immediately hit my nipples like an ice storm, and they started to grow. My nipples are thick and can grow up to half an inch, and my t-shirt stuck to them like glue. If only he’d look at me, he’d see them. But he didn’t. Disappointed, and a little tired, I put my head on the window and started to doze off. When I woke up, I had been asleep for an hour, and had missed dinner. The air hostess was already collecting empty plates. More importantly, I was now sleeping on his arm, holding it, as if he was my bf. He didn’t try waking me up. I immediately left his arm and apologized. His expression was different. He smiled warmly and said “It’s ok. My name is Alan.” “I’m Pallavi. I’m sorry; I didn’t realize I was sleeping like that; must have been uncomfortable for you” “Not at all! You seemed very peaceful. You want something to eat?” “No, I’m still a little sleepy. Sorry again” As if on cue, the announcement came on saying they were going to dim cabin lights. I looked around and most people were wrapping their blankets and preparing to sleep. The lights went dim and now the only glow was a couple of over head lights where people were reading, and from their TV screens. “You can use my shoulder again if you want”, he looked at me and smiled. Something naughty in his expression, I knew what he wanted. “That’s so kind of you.” I pretended to be innocent and took up the offer. I held him arm and put my head on his shoulder. He reclined his seat, and I did mine, so we were comfortable. He took his free hand and ran them through my hair. He was behaving like my bf. I loved the attention, and it had been over a week since I had any action. I wanted to take this chance. I looked at him innocently. He smiled back at me. His eyes met mine, his hand still running through my hair. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. This firang was fast. I moved back, not wanting to appear desperate. I looked all confused and embarrassed, and looked down. A moment later, he placed my bra on my lap. Shit! It had probably fallen down while I was sleeping. He must’ve seen it. This was really embarrassing. I should have kept it in my bag. Oh damn. He probably thinks I’m a slut. I didn’t look up at him for a few minutes; thinking in my head what to do. I wanted it too, but didn’t want to appear slutty. The air hostess walked by checking up on everyone, before she also retired to her seat. He leaned in and asked if I was ok. I didn’t know what to say. His hand came around my back. He pulled me back to recline along the seat, my head on his arm. I finally held him again. I was feeling warm and wet between my legs, despite the cold AC. This time when he leaned in, it was to my lips. I didn’t respond. I wanted to play along, but not look like I want it badly. Men tend to work harder then. He took out his tongue, and licked my cheek and drew a line down to my neck. Oh! My neck! That was it. I let out a gasp. It was soft, others didn’t hear it. But he knew I had melted. He looked into my eyes. There was lust in them.