She moaned and I moved my hand down to her pussy. She grabbed her sweatshirt that she took off earlier and put it over her lap. I finally made it to her pussy and she had to cover her mouth. She was so wet once I made it down there. I rubbed her pussy nice and slow and she was trying not to make it obvious. I could tell she was close to cumming. My cock was now rock hard. The flight attendant came over and told us to put up our trays. I thought this would kill any chance of continuing since the tray could no longer block anyone's view of me fingering her pussy over her yoga pants. Obviously, I was wrong and she was too turned on to just stop. She then turned her body so her back was to the guy next to her and reached for my cock. My cock was throbbing at this point and she smiled once she felt it. She whispered "big cock" in my ear and started jerking me off. She was moaning and I could tell she was so turned on about being a naughty little slut jerking off a stranger on a full. Her tight fitting top hugged her torso like a second layer of skin - I could practically make out the texture of her bra. Her cleavage was propped up and looking like it might be begging for mercy, as if at any moment those two perfect tits were gonna make an escape. Her skirt was obscenely short, the slightest movement of her hips would give me a glimpse of the lacy tops of her thigh-high stockings. And the heels practically had their own voice, and they were screaming -- fuck me. "Wow, you look..." "Like a slut?" She returned a playful smile that always let me know that she knew exactly what kind of effect she had on me. "Thanks, that's what I was going for." "Your words, not mine. But I love it, whatever you wanna call it." "I just felt like looking the part, since I've been playing the part." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Take your clothes off, and you'll find out." My wife was a puppet master, and I was Pinocchio. The word "no" did not exist in my vocabulary where she.
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