Uniform Fun Written by Undine51 Added on Mon, 29-Jun-2009

Those readers who are familiar with the events than had occurred earlier that afternoon will know that, following an accident (I wet my panties) while on the phone, had coincided with Ian‘s (my husband) unexpected return from work. Both of us where so turned on by my wet state, it had resulted in torrid wet sex, (during which I had peed myself again) we were so carried away. Sadly we had to desist, because I needed to pick up our son from school. While I was waiting outside the school, my son was invited out to tea. Which meant that when I returned home we would free to begin where we had left off? At Ian‘s insistence I was wearing the panties I had wet twice already, which was a big turn on. As a result, the feel of the sogginess incited me into playing with myself in the old school toilet block. As I sat on the loo, I recalled incidents from my own school days; when wet panties often led to my being unable to resist masturbating. It was while sitting there I had a brilliant idea for the resumption of our wet sex episode, on my return home. Being in the school buildings had given me an idea. I found my way to the senior girl’s school store, where the spare sixth form uniforms were kept. I sorted one out, a tight fit, but it would serve my purpose. I stuffed it into a plastic bag and fled to the car. On arriving home I went into the garden shed, and changed into the uniform, but kept on my stained and dirty panties, stiff with dried pee and love juice. I arranged my hair in the way I had worn it in my final term at school, and completed my outfit with white ankle socks and trainers. So attired I went into the house. Standing outside the study, where I knew Ian would be working. I knocked on the door and when Ian called out "yes!" I went into my act. I entered and stood at the side of his desk. His eyes nearly popped out of his head, when he saw the way I was dressed. I stood in front of him my finger in my mouth, my legs and knees pressed together; giving the unmistakably impression that I was almost on the verge of wetting myself. "I have been sent home from school," I began. "I had an accident, and I am on the verge of having another one." As I said this I slowly raised my skirt, placing my palm over the front of my panties grasping myself tightly, through my panties- wriggling about as I did so. Ian caught on to my play-acting, and took up his role. "I think you had better tell me all about it," he replied his eyes fastened on my crotch, where I was pretending to be almost masturbating myself, in an effort to prevent another accident. "Well I was sitting at the back of the class this afternoon. Having finished my work, I was reading one of your rude books I took from in here. The story made me so horny I could scarcely contain myself. I requested to go to the toilet, but was refused. You see I wanted to pee, and I was so turned on by your book that once in there I knew I would be unable to resist having to relieve myself with a good frig. Mr. Thomas, the teacher refused to let me go- I think he guessed I was almost peeing a myself and he saw an opportunity to watch me squirm. Girls have always said that he gets off on watching girls almost wetting themselves. Anyway I thought ‘fuck him‘ and when I figured that no one was looking, I slipped my hand up my skirt and wormed a finger up my knicker leg; furtively masturbating myself as I read. Soon I was on the edge of coming; you know how I mean, when it‘s so nice you can‘t stop- I mean every touch on my clit was sending quivers of delight down my legs to my toes. I could even feel it in my tits. Cream from my arousal had drenched my panties to the point where it was running down my thighs but I was aware that I would probably pee myself if I went over the edge. It was at that point that I was aware of Mr. Thomas‘s eyes on me. My first reaction was to stop but then I saw the big bulge in his pants. Just like the one you have now. So I carried on. Although there was still ten minutes to go, Mr. Thomas dismissed the class, but asked me to remain behind. Once we were alone he walked over to me and said ‘so! You not only do you think can make an exhibition of yourself by almost wetting your panties in my class, but- you dirty little slut -you think you can get away with masturbating in public. What is more I can see you have gone that far I doubt you can make it home without finishing what you have started!‘ "By this time I was so pissed off with him, I thought ‘right I will show you,‘ and pulling up my skirt, I slipped my soaking panties to my knees and eased my fingers up my cunt and spread my legs. I began to wank, while watching his pathetic little bulge build up at his crotch. The knowledge of the control I was exerting over him inflamed my imagination, and I was soon on the verge of coming. Making sure he had a good view of my legs and cunt, I could see that he was masturbating though his trousers pocket. This added to my excitement. I had an almighty orgasm, and as I came, I pissed in a long yellow arch, directly towards him, and then between my legs into my panties round my knees from where it dripped onto the floor." "I heard him gasp and saw a large wet patch spread over his trousers, and before he could say anything I stood up and said ‘Now you have got what you wanted, you had better clean yourself up, and while you are at it get a mop and clean my pee up as well.‘ "He tried to act scornful but failed, mumbling that he would report me to you; so, before he rings you and says anything here I am." While I had been narrating the events of the afternoon, Ian had taken me in his arms. I tugged his belt undone and slid his jeans and pants down, and while his hands seized the wet pantied cheeks of my bum. I gripped his throbbing eight inches and maneuvered it up my inflamed hungry vagina, up the leg of my panties. Standing there in the study, against the wall, he fucked me with long slow strokes. I held his face to mine and whispered "now !" His sigh told me he was ready, and abandoning all control I let go the full flow of my bladder filling my panties and soaking his cock, balls, and legs. I felt his legs hard and springy against me and as he filled me with his cum I contracted my vagina around his cock. Then wave upon wave of repressed delight swept though me as I wrapped my legs round his waist, extracting the joy of our union to fulfillment, while virtually sitting on his embedded prick. Well, it took some time to recover; both of us slumped on the settee. What a sight I must have looked, the school skirt round my waist, legs awash with pee and cum sliding down my thighs while my socks were totally soaked. As for my panties, well they were almost steaming with hot pee and dollops of spunk drying on them. Even the bottom of my white blouse was wet and strangely enough, my school tie also had a spunk stain on it. I caught Ian looking at me, his prick staring to harden again. As he caressed me, he said: "what a dirty clever sexy girl," then cupping my cunt through my panties, he began to rub my filthy panties over my swollen cunt. To my surprise I found I was quickly becoming aroused again. Wanting to share my excitement, I slipped my panties off and wrapped them around Ian‘s hardening prick, wanking him off while he frigged me. Using really dirty talk I encouraged us both on to another climax, before going together into the shower. While soaping me down Ian observed. "That was very good; but if your Mr. Thomas did exist, he might ring, to ask how I chastised you. Then what am I going to say? That I gave you a good fucking  that‘s not a penalty."   However neither was what he did next, although what he did next, well, that‘s another story. So stay tuned!

You can email me your desperation-wetting stories and we might do a clip based on your story.

©2015 Audrey K. - My Wettin

LEGGY UP

Go on,” whispered Carmen. “Don’t be such a coward.”

“Hush!” said Sylvette. “They’ll hear you.”

Carmen flicked her dark hair behind her shoulders and sighed impatiently. “If you don’t do it in the next ten seconds you lose the bet.”

“That’s not fair!” Sylvette hissed angrily, her blue eyes glinting beneath a fringe of blonde curls. “We never agreed on a time limit.”

“Ten seconds,” Carmen insisted, before draining her beer bottle in one gulp.

Sylvette looked across to where the three teenage girls sat against the wall, their half-supped wine glasses lined up on the table in front of them. The trio were aged around eighteen and looked like trainees or secretaries from one of the nearby law firms, their youthful bodies concealed by dark business suits of the jacket-plus-skirt variety. Two had black hair while the third was a fiery-looking redhead. All three were bright and attractive, their hair tied in neat ponytails and their fingernails immaculately manicured.

Opposite them sat Carmen and Sylvette, respectively a brunette and a blonde in their late twenties, drinking and smoking and staring. Unlike the office trio, these two wore casual clothes: black vest and black leather miniskirt for Carmen, white T-shirt and denim miniskirt for Sylvette. Their shoulder-length hair seemed wild and uncombed, Sylvette’s curly blonde mane looking especially tangled. They had been gazing at the girls for the past fifteen minutes, making the trio feel rather uneasy and embarrassed.

“I’m counting,” Carmen whispered. “Ten … nine … eight … seven …”

“Okay! Okay!” hissed Sylvette. “I’ll do it!”

**********

“It’s no good,” said Wendy, taking a sip of wine. “The bosses need to show us we’re appreciated.”

“I agree,” said Janice, flicking one of her long black hairs off the sleeve of her jacket. “They should raise our wages or at least give us a bonus. What do you reckon, Kate?”

She turned to Kate, the redhead of the trio, but received no response. Kate’s attention seemed to be fixed on the two women sitting a few yards away against the opposite wall. Janice followed Kate’s gaze and immediately looked away, burying her face in the collar of her jacket and giggling. Beside her she heard Wendy give a soft whistle of amazement.

“Did you see that?” Janice asked in a whisper. “Did you see what that woman just did?”

Wendy nodded, her mouth broadening in a smile as she took another sip of wine. “Yeah, I saw it. And I’m still seeing it.”

Janice looked up sheepishly and sniggered. “Shit! Why doesn’t she put her leg down?”

Wendy shrugged, grinning as she returned the fixed stares of the two women, her eyes flitting between their impassive faces. She had watched the smaller of the two, a curly-haired blonde with twinkly blue eyes, hoist her left foot onto the seat, seemingly unconcerned that the raised leg gave a clear view under her denim skirt.

“Maybe she’s too drunk to realise she’s displaying her underwear?” ventured Janice.

Kate gave a small chuckle and shook her head, keeping her gaze on the two women. “Nah! She knows exactly what she’s doing.”

Wendy nodded. “Flashing her yellow panties.”

“But why?” Janice inquired softly, watching the display while a nervous smile flickered across her lips.

“Because she’s a dyke,” replied Kate, receiving a supportive nod from Wendy.

“But why do it?” Janice repeated. “She must know we’re not lesbians, so why would we be interested in looking under her skirt?”

“The bitch is flirting,” said Wendy. “Trying to tease us, trying to get a reaction from us, even if it’s just shock or embarrassment.”

“She’s succeeded, then,” said Kate. “Janice is as red as a strawberry.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Janice protested. “Just rather surprised.”  

Wendy shrugged and drained her glass, keeping her eyes on the two lesbians as she swallowed the last drop of wine.

“They don’t look like dykes,” said Janice. “They look more like the sort of sluts who hang around nightclubs on a Saturday.”

Kate shook her head and nudged Janice’s shoulder. “Don’t be so naïve, Jan! There’s no such thing as a lesbo stereotype these days. They don’t all shave their heads and wear lumberjack shirts.”

“They’re both really pretty,” whispered Wendy, in a voice so soft that she seemed to be speaking to herself. “Especially the dark-haired one.”

Janice gave Wendy an elbow-jab in the ribs, startling her out of what seemed to be some kind of dreamy trance.

“Be careful what you say, girl,” said Janice, grinning and winking. “Your boyfriend might get to hear about it.”

“Fuck!” hissed Kate, interrupting her friends’ discussion. “Look at them now. They’re both putting on a show.”

Janice looked across at the lesbians and saw that the dark-haired one now had her right foot on her seat, the movement making the leather miniskirt ride up almost to her waist.

“This is getting so crazy!” said Kate, taking a long sip from her glass.

“Just ignore it,” advised Janice. “Don’t encourage them by staring. It’s the reaction they’re hoping for.”

“Red satin!” Kate observed, turning to Janice with a wide chuckling grin. “Red satin panties under a black leather skirt. How slutty is that?”

Janice grimaced in agreement, but Wendy merely gave a dismissive shrug and sighed.

“It’s all a matter of opinion,” she retorted. “Personally, I think she looks quite nice.”

Kate and Janice shook their heads and smirked at each other, but Wendy caught the gaze of the dark-haired lesbian and exchanged a smile with her. That proved too much for her friends, who stood up quickly, straightening their suits.

Janice took a deep breath and looked down at Wendy, who had made no move to depart. Kate cast a quick glance at the two lesbians and rolled her eyes in dismay.

“I’ve had enough of this panty-flashing, or flirting, or whatever it is,” she said. “Let’s get back to the office. Lunchtime is nearly over and we’ll be late if we don’t hurry. Come on, Wendy!”

“I’m staying here,” came the reply. “Tell the boss I don’t feel too good and I’ll phone him later. Tell him I’ve been sick and gone home.”

“Are you crazy?” hissed Janice, leaning on the table. “Those weird dykes are certain to hit onto you if you don’t leave. What’s the point of staying?”

Wendy shrugged nonchalantly, trying to conceal a mischievous smile. “I’m sure I’ll be OK. Just tell the boss I’m too sick to work the afternoon.”

Kate gave her a frown and a long knowing look. “I think I’ve figured out what you’re up to, but I hope I’m wrong.”

“No,” said Wendy, feeling her cheeks glowing as she grinned up at her friends. “Your guess is probably correct.”

“I don’t understand,” said Janice, looking puzzled. “Surely you’re not thinking of … “

“Please be careful, Wendy,” Kate interrupted. “Don’t get into anything you can’t handle.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Wendy replied, as Kate and Janice walked away. She watched them go and returned the little wave that Janice sent from the doorway.

**********

“Something’s happening,” Carmen whispered. “Those two seem to be leaving.”


“Good,” Sylvette replied softly. “Maybe the other one might stay awhile longer.”

“She’s gorgeous!” observed Carmen. “Black hair, dark eyes and smooth suntanned skin. She looks Italian or Spanish, don’t you think?”

Sylvette nodded. “A very beautiful girl. Not yet out of her teens, I guess.”

“Not yet out of her skirt, you mean!” said Carmen. “Go on, sexy babe, tell me what you’re thinking?”

Sylvette smiled and gave a dreamy sigh, keeping her eyes fixed on Wendy, ignoring the other two girls when they walked off to exit the bar.

“I’m thinking about what she’s wearing under that smart suit,” said Sylvette. “Something cute and stylish, perhaps? A white lace bra with matching thong?”

Carmen shook her head, smiling across at Wendy while answering Sylvette. “No, I disagree. She looks like the type of girl who’d wear something comfortable and practical, so no lace underwear. Too prickly under a suit in summer. I reckon she’s wearing stretchy cotton, probably white or black.”

“Panties or thong?” asked Sylvette.

“Thong,” replied Carmen. “Definitely a thong.”

“She’s staring at you,” said Sylvette. “What do you propose to do about it?”

“Take her to bed and fuck her,” Carmen whispered.

“How can you be so confident?” Sylvette inquired. “She might be just looking at you out of curiosity. Or maybe she’s wondering why two women are sitting in a smoky bar with their legs up, flashing their underwear to a bunch of pretty office girls.”

“She’s certainly curious,” said Carmen. “She’s desperate to talk to us.”

“Prove it,” said Sylvette.

**********

Wendy felt a shiver of trepidation when the dark-haired lesbian got up and came over to sit beside her.

“Hi, I’m Carmen!”

“Wendy Powell,” came the reply.

“I don’t need to know your surname, babe,” said Carmen, her blue eyes glinting as she smiled at the girl.

Wendy grinned nervously, wishing that her cheeks were not blushing so deeply. “What exactly do you want?” she inquired.

“An answer,” Carmen replied. “On behalf of my blonde friend over there. She wants to know something.”

“Well? What does she want to know?”

Carmen leaned against Wendy to whisper in her ear: “She wonders what you’ve got on under that suit.”

Wendy blushed a very bright red and stifled an embarrassed giggle. “Your friend is a weirdo, Carmen. And a very drunk weirdo, too, if she thinks I’ll answer such a personal question.”

“So you refuse to answer?”

Wendy nodded, feeling a shiver of anxiety when she realized Carmen was still leaning against her shoulder.

“OK, have it your own way,” said Carmen. “I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Wendy replied untruthfully. She paused to nibble her lower lip, turning her face towards Carmen. “I’m not embarrassed, just a bit puzzled. I can’t understand why you and your friend flashed your underwear at us. I could understand it if we were three guys, but why bother to flash your panties at three women?”

“Because we’re gay,” Carmen explained.

Wendy smiled. “We figured that out for ourselves. But you must have guessed that we three aren’t gay, so what was the point of flashing at us?”

Carmen shrugged. “We’re just a couple of tipsy dykes having a bit of fun, that’s all. It’s just a game.”

“A game?”

“Yes,” said Carmen. “Sylvette and me and a few of our friends sometimes play it when we’ve had too many beers. We dare each other to flash our underwear at unsuspecting straight girls. It only works when we’re wearing skirts, of course. We call the game Leggy Up.” She paused to whisper again in Wendy’s ear. “I’m sorry if we offended you.”

“You didn’t offend me. I just find it amusing and rather weird.”

“Did you enjoy the view?” Carmen asked bluntly.

Wendy hesitated, blushing so deeply that her cheeks sizzled. “I guess so,” she answered softly. Then, recovering her composure a little, she added: “Are you hitting on me?”

“Yes,” came the reply. “Do you want me to take my lust elsewhere?”

Wendy nodded, seeing a veil of sadness fall across Carmen’s face. The lesbian rose slowly and was about to return to Sylvette when Wendy suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Carmen,” said the girl. “I meant that we could leave together, you and me. And your friend, too, if she wants to join us. We could go and sit in the park, in the sunshine. Or we could find somewhere in the shade, if you prefer. My apartment is only a ten minute walk from here.”

“Got any beer in the fridge?” Carmen inquired, her blue eyes sparkling.

“Enough for the three of us,” Wendy replied, smiling as she stood up. 

THE END
Copyright © 2004 Jenny Kay
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Mile High Anal Encounter byWobieTide©

Luckily I had no check-in luggage when I arrived at the airport or I would have missed my flight altogether, my fucking publisher dragging his heels at our meeting as usual, the prick. I had made a quick visit to discuss some changes I wanted to make to the manuscript for my new book before it went to print. It was only a short hop of fifty five minutes on the domestic flight and I hadn't needed an overnight stay so traveled light with just a shoulder bag I could carry on. I had flown out earlier that morning and was returning on the afternoon flight and just managed to make it to the boarding gate before they closed. I was last getting on the plane and all the other passengers had settled into their seats as I tottered down the aisle in my high heeled shoes towards my seat at the back. Usually in these situations there are several astute gentlemen who will see an opportunity in the restricted space of the narrow aisle of an airplane to cop a little brush up against an attractive lady's hip as she passes.

I was wearing a short, figure hugging black dress with a cropped jacket so there was plenty of my curved hip and thigh to rub up against the shoulders and upper arms of these gentlemen as they leaned out into the aisle expectantly. I obligingly swayed a little more unsteadily on my heels and had to lean my hip heavily against their arms to keep my balance as I passed each dirty opportunist in his turn. One really good looking silver fox received a good rub of my stockinged thigh on the back of his bare forearm as I almost toppled over and nearly ended up on my arse in his lap. Goodness me, however did that happen, I feigned a look of annoyance at the imaginary object which had snagged my high heel on the floor as I composed myself before moving on. I must admit I like the older dirty men.

Looking out for the next opportunist to treat to my brazen brush up, I saw HIM!

He wasn't leaning into the aisle expectantly or openly staring, or even noticeably glancing but he couldn't fool me. The pose he had adopted is an all too familiar one to me. He kept his head down, seemingly engrossed in his, what was it? Motorbike Review, not really my type, aging bikers. His eyelids came up slowly to look over his, so old fashioned gold framed spectacles to look at me. He thought the downward tilt of his head and the frame of his glasses obscuring his eyes would conceal the fact that he was ogling me, mentally undressing me, getting me bare arsed naked in his dirty little mind. But with those bright blue eyes he was never going to get away with it. The wanton lust in them was far too obvious to hide and his devious manner in trying to check me out was annoying.

"Fuck him" I thought to myself, "I'll teach him a lesson."

I noticed with satisfaction as I arrived at my seat that he was only a row behind me on the opposite side of the aisle, perfect for me to tease him. I totally ignored him of course as I placed my shoulder bag on my seat and turned my back to him to rummage in my bag for my manuscript and my black rimmed reading glasses. As I did, he was no doubt taking in my long silky black hair hanging down the back of my cropped jacket, the sharp taper of which emphasized my broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was appreciating the flare of my hips and the roundness of my arse in my tight black dress. His eyes were wandering up and down my stockinged legs from the backs of my firm thighs to the sculpted muscle of my well defined calves. I know he was loving my high heeled shoes, all men do and lots of women too. I wondered momentarily would it turn him on to know that as much as I enjoy sucking a hard, stiff cock I sometimes like to lick a nice wet cunt as well. I fucking bet it would have.

After teasingly prolonging the rummaging in my shoulder bag I extracted my manuscript and glasses and bent forward to place the bag beneath my seat, obedient little airline passenger that I am. In a practiced manner I bent my knees, pushed my arse back towards him and leaned forward as I tried to get the stubborn bag under the seat just right. I knew the hem of my skirt would rise up the backs of my legs so that he would be able to see the elastic bands of my stocking tops and maybe even some creamy thigh flesh. Did he? Did he get a glimpse of the backs of my bare legs just then? I couldn't be sure but it would really have moistened my 'unavailable to him' cunt to know that he did.

I eventually managed to get the bag under the seat and straightened up, placing my feet generously wide apart so that I could maintain my balance on my high heels while I reached my hands up to gather my long hair into a loose plait at the back of my head. My dress was so tight that it remained stretched across my upper legs and my stocking tops were still partially visible under the hem. I pulled my loosely plaited hair in front of me, draping it down my chest and tucked it under one side of my cropped jacket, groping my braless tit through my dress and giving the nipple a little pinch between my thumb and forefinger as i did. Fuck would he have done if he'd known that I was squeezing my own tit and nipple while he ogled my stocking tops. I wriggled my arse provocatively as I pulled my dress back down to cover my stocking tops again and turned sideways about to sit into my seat, my manuscript and reading glasses in my hand.

The moment had arrived for me to deliver my coup de grace of which I have two for whatever mood suits the occasion. In one I act all coy and feign polite embarrassment which usually bolsters my voyeur's confidence and entices them to chat me up. I use this one if I fancy the fucker ogling me and feel like delivering on the tease and getting to suck some cock at least, if not an outright casual fuck in some public toilet or up a side alley. I've teased hundreds of men in this fashion over the years and it has often resulted in one or other of the aforementioned finales. But sadly, more often, the men usually don't having the fucking balls to follow their probing eyes with their probing cocks. Those times I have to endure my cunt drooling thirstily until I get home and can find a good sized cucumber in my vegetable drawer to ram up my cock starved cunt until I cream.

In my second coup de grace I normally catch the eye of my voyeur and dampen their lusty enthusiasm with a couldn't give a fuck what you saw contemptuous glare because I'm a cold cunted bitch whose cunt you couldn't pry open with a fucking crow bar. This I reserve for the guys I don't fancy and who's cocks I don't expect to suck or fuck but with my don't give a fuck what you saw attitude encourage them to continue ogling me, fuck do I care.

I turned to deliver this coup de grace to him and had things gone the way they should have done he would have been acutely embarrassed at having been caught and looked away, propererly chastened and with his cock withering in his jocks. But before he had registered my look of contempt he smiled and nodded appreciatively.

"Thank you." he mouthed silently.

Totally taken aback, my glare turned to a lingering gaze as I really looked at him properly for the first time, I was so sure that he wasn't my type. A bespectacled, salt and pepper bearded, aging biker with thinning hair and then I noticed the hearing aid behind his ear and taken by surprise, openly stared at it. He noticed me staring and I saw the previous confidence slowly evaporate from his face and be replaced by a reticent vulnerability under my inappropriate scrutiny. But a vulnerability tempered with a seasoned determination which told me to go fuck myself if I had a problem with him having to wear a hearing aid.

His initial appreciative countenance at my cock teasing altered to one which said I could stick it up my arse as he returned to perusing his bike review magazine.

It had all turned to shit, I wasn't supposed to find him attractive for fuck's sake!

Then I noticed the pretty stewardess who had been hovering in the aisle nearby pretending to be busy with other things, she should have insisted that I sit down a long time before this but kindly allowed me time to perform my little tease on him. Now she caught my eye and in that split second understood how the whole dynamic of the situation between him and me had suddenly changed. She raised her eyebrows and smiled sympathetically before indicating with a little nod that I should sit down and buckle up. I did, a little flustered, glancing back at him I saw how those alluring blue eyes which had earlier sparkled with interest and desire had hardened to apathy and indifference.

I tried to dismiss the whole sorry incident as the plane taxied to the runway, the engines gunned and it took off into the sky but as I feigned concentration on my manuscript I couldn't resist turning my head enough to sneak a look at him out the corner of my eye. His posture never changed and he genuinely appeared disinterested in the generous amount of stocking clad thigh I was displaying, with a different purpose now, one leg crossed over the other. When the little light came on permitting us to open our seat belts I changed tack and shifted my position in my seat so that I could stretch my long shapely legs out into the aisle for him to admire. Still he took no notice or had suddenly become so skilled at concealing his interest that I couldn't detect it. After a few minutes like this my legs in the aisle were causing such a distraction for the staff and other passengers that i withdrew them, defeated, tucked my calves under my seat and demurely tugged the hem of my dress as far down my thighs as it would go.

After absent-mindedly flicking through my manuscript for several minutes I slowly grew more and more irritated by him until I was eventually quite annoyed with him and his superciliousness. It's not my fault he wears a hearing aid, the deaf cunt, and if he has a fucking problem with me having a fucking problem with him being a deaf cunt well that's his fucking problem. I turned around to tell him as much.

But when I did, he was leaning towards me with his head turned to one side, a hand cupped behind his hearing aid to listen to what I was about to say and a stupid grin on his stupid fucking face, the big stupid adorable fucking cunt. We both burst out laughing.

I turned back in my seat to face him as he leaned forward towards me and to my great surprise we began chatting across the aisle like old friends. Our instant rapport and obvious sexual attraction seemed to fizzle in the air about us making those passengers in close proximity edgy with anticipation and expectation. My cunt was moistening and I saw him shift occasionally in his seat to adjust his position to better suit his ever hardening cock.

While we talked, his eyes kept wandering to the hem of my dress high on my thighs which I had parted generously for him by then, allowing him as much of a view as possible without actually throwing my legs wide and blatantly showing him my wet, welcoming cunt. I deliberately let my eyes fall to his crotch and he obligingly turned his pelvis towards me and let me have an eyeful of his cock, bulging in his jeans. A plan began formulating in my head as we both grew hornier and hornier and I wondered if I was slut enough to initiate it would he have the balls to follow it through.

I have to admit, for about two minutes I had no idea what he was talking about but was just nodding my head along to his chat while my cunt grew wetter and creamier with what I was pondering. Fuck it, I decided eventually, glancing up to see the green vacant light over the toilet at the back of the plane I made my decision to implement my plan and fuck the consequences. If the airport police wanted to interrogate me on arrival at the other end I'd just offer to fucking gang bang the lot of them, men and women alike, I was going to do it.

I couldn't risk him not picking up on my intention, so rudely interrupting his chatting I stood up and probably flashed him my cunt as I did which would have been the first time I had ever flashed it accidentally. I leaned my mouth close to the mic of his hearing aid and said in a half whisper.

"Follow me to the loo in a minute or two." fucking poetic or what! Then I was off.

I went into the loo and locked the door behind me just to appear to be about to use it for the purposes intended and not to arouse any suspicions in the staff, fuck the passengers, or at least the one I had serious intentions on at that moment. I waited a little nervously for a minute or two, oh, fuck it who am I kidding? I waited nervously for exactly one minute thirty six seconds before flicking back the bolt on the door to indicate on the outside that it could now be opened.

I turned to the mirror on the side wall of the small cubicle and set my legs apart on the floor, taking a lip gloss stick from my bag so that I could be nonchalantly retouching my lips when he entered, if he did. A moment or two later, oh for fuck's sake. I know it was exactly twelve seconds later that he did enter and we looked at each other in the mirror. His cheeks had already flushed with the anticipation of what awaited him from this slut he'd only just met and who's name he didn't even know. He was fidgeting with his hands like an adolescent school boy awaiting instruction from his 'mum he'd love to fuck' school mistress.

I put my lip gloss away and locked my knees backwards stretching my legs taut and straight on my high heels as I reached for the hem of my skirt at the outsides of my thighs. Leaning forward I pushed my arse back and slowly began to hitch my skirt upwards while I watched his reaction in the smoky glass of the little airplane toilet where I was about to let him, a total stranger, who I didn't fancy in the slightest, fuck me.

He began excitedly unbuttoning his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers and I saw his cock spring froward, the knob already glistening with pre cum. His cock looked a little bigger than average with a cute curvature to one side which gave it the appearance of having been wanked so much that it had molded itself to the shape of his hand. I found this extremely exciting because I just adore wankers and wanking myself. Noting gets me hotter than a mutual wank in public with a horny man I've only just met, but I had bigger things in store for him.

He was focused on watching my ever rising skirt hem which was so fucking tight across the tops of my legs that I was able to hook it under my firm buttocks and lift them upwards as I pulled my skirt up over my arse. I continued to tug my hem upwards, drawing my fleshy arse cheeks with it until they popped out from under my dress and dropped back down with a taut wobble and bounce. Then he realized that I wasn't wearing any knickers as I continued to hitch my dress up over my bare arse to my waist.

"Oh fuck" I heard him rasp throatily and looked to see his reaction in the mirror.

His face was a picture, he was literally drooling into his salt and pepper beard as his bulging eyes almost popped the lenses of his glasses from their gold wire frames. I had clearly stumbled on a devout arse man and stifled a giggle as I rummaged in my bag for what I was going to need next. Fuck was he in for a treat!

As I was making my own preparations I suddenly heard an eletronic ping and noticed the little red 'out of service' light come on above the toilet door, she really was clued-in, that pretty little stewardess. I felt him step up between my legs and probe eagerly at my moist pussy with his cock head, searching for my cunt hole. I half turned and reached behind me to put a hand between my arse and his abdomen and push him back gently while looking into his eager eyes. With my fingers splayed out on his lower belly behind his cock I eased him back until he was reluctantly reclining against the wall of the cubicle and there was a couple of feet between us.

He frowned in puzzlement at this until I smiled reassuringly at him, took my hand away from his abdomen to grab one cheek of my arse and pull it away from the other, exposing my tight little sphincter to him. Then I brought my other hand round behind me and placed the glob of lube I had prepared on the fingertips right on my arsehole and smeared it around the puckered little crater.

"Oh fucking fuck" he whimpered gutturally, eager little cub that he was, as he watched me unceremoniously push two fingers up my arse to the middle knuckle, working the lube into my tight little hole.

What he wasn't to know, is that I had been practicing for over a month for this moment. I had started with a short, skinny little carrot at first, working my way up to a thicker, longer one, then a banana and so on until I was able to take a good sized cucumber all the way up my arsehole and pound the fuck out of it as if I was been screwed anally by a big fucking cock. I had never been fucked in the arse before and he was the lucky guy I picked to pop that particular cherry.

After working the lubricant around the inside of my arse ring I withdrew my fingers, leaned on my elbows on the vanity unit of the airplane toilet cubicle and offered him my arsehole to fuck. I could of course have lubricated his cock which would have made it slip up me a lot easier but I wanted some rectal resistance, I wanted my arsehole to know it was been penetrated by some real man meat, at last.

His cock head nudged against my anus hesitantly before I pushed encouragingly back and felt him apply a little more pressure in response. He was being so gentle with me, not at all what I expected from an aging biker, that I felt obliged to encourage him further and reached my hands behind me to pull my arse open for him. But he withdrew his cock altogether at this, leaned back and looked down to admire this new spectacle.

"Oh jesus fucking christ" he groaned so appreciatively that I lifted my arse up higher for him and pulled my cheeks as wide as they would go, stretching my arsehole to the fucking limit.

He pressed his cock forward again and his knob sank half way into my anus before lodging once more in the tight ring of sphincters muscle. He gave a few soft, shallow pumps of his prick against the resistance and gradually his engorged cock head slipped millimeter by millimeter further into my slowly yielding arsehole. Sensing he was almost breaching the last bastion of my chastity he applied a gentle but sustained pressure until... POP! My arse ring slipped over his knob and snapped shut on his shaft as he gasped triumphantly before slowly easing his prick gently up my rectal canal.

When his prick was embedded to the hilt in my arse, nudging my colon, somewhat painfully yet pleasurably, he nestled his chin on my shoulder and looked into my eyes in the smoky mirror.

"Thank you." he said to me genuinely "I've never been up a lady's arse before"

I was overwhelmed by his kindness. Here I was being a total slut, letting him, a stranger I had only known for fifteen minutes fuck me up the arse and he was calling me a lady. I reached a hand back to stroke his bearded face, thankfully.

"Fuck me" I said "Fuck the slut lady's tight arsehole".

He did, slowly at first, grabbing my hips and pulling my arse back to meet his thrusting cock, he gradually built up momentum until he was pumping rapidly in and out of my ever greasing arsehole. The initial pain gradually subsided to be replaced with pure pleasure and I felt the orgasm slowly building in my cunt. I was tempted to drop my hand to my fanny and finger my clit, but I resisted. I knew I would come from the anal fucking alone as long as he didn't spunk first and stop pumping. In the mirror I watched his face contort in ecstasy, his mouth clenched in a rictus of concentrated effort as he pummeled my arsehole with his meaty cock.

"Oh fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck, yeah" he was saying over and over as his own orgasm built in tandem with mine until in one final thrust, he lifted me out of my high heeled shoes, which clattered to the floor, and impaled me through the arse on his throbbing, pumping, spunk spurting cock. 

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This was what I wanted, what I had practised all month for, real hot man juice spewing up inside me. No carrot, bannana or cucumber could give me that, not even the triple enema I had self administered this morning in anticipation of seducing some dirty fucker into reaming my arse for me. That glorious sensation of hot spunk spurting against my colon, once, twice, three times, squirt, squirt, squirt and subsiding to an oozing, stickness coating the walls of my rectum while he slowly pumped his softening cock back and fort in my arse.

I creamed copiously, down the insides of my thighs as I came with great heaving spasms which shook me to the root of my sexual being. He thrust me upwards repeatedly on his fuck pole until his cock stopped spurting and he slowly relaxed, easing me gently down until my stockinged feet reached the floor. I felt the rhytmic throb of the airplane engines enter through the soles of my feet and permeate through my orgasmicly sensitive body and was reminded that I had just been anally fucked one mile and one cock high.

"Thank you." he said again unnecessarily, stuffing his slimy prick back inside his boxers without even wiping it off and zipping his jeans back up. My kind of guy after all. He slid the bolt back on the toilet door and stepped out.

After I had gathered myself together and rearranged my dress, I left the toilet cubicle and returned to my seat in time to buckle in for the approach to landing. As we were leaving the plane he smiled politely at me, gentlemanly allowing me to go ahead of him down the aisle. The pretty little stewardess gave me a conspiratorial wink and a smile which I returned gratefully as I passed her at the exit door of the plane. I lost him somewhere in the crowd at the airport before hailing a taxi home to immediately write this account of my first, and to date only Mile High Anal experience whie it was still fresh in my arse.