Rose sat down in her seat and started the usual airplane passenger routine and looked at the entryway hoping that anyone over the size of a normal person went past. “Also any small children or anyone looking sick,” Rose thought to herself. As she watched, she remembered some of her early flights, when she used to hope some very handsome and available guy would sit next to her. That hope faded after a bunch of trips when she realized the odds of a nice guy, let alone a handsome and available one, were much lower than an obnoxious excuse for a human being where the gender didn’t matter. She also remembered one trip where a mother in the row behind her started apologizing before the flight even left the gate. Rose really understood how difficult it would be to keep a hyperactive autistic child quiet for a whole flight, and the mother really tried. But she hoped like hell to never have a flight that bad again.
She leaned back in her first row in coach, the middle seat, as she once again mentally cursed her office who was going through a budget kick and decided it was critical to save $75 and not put her on an aisle or exit row. She understood not getting a first-class or even a business-class ticket, but a middle seat in economy was never pleasant. Plus this being a red-eye saved a few more dollars. “Oh well, the good thing is I'll get in early enough to have one meeting, then get into the hotel for a dinner meeting with an old friend.”
Her musings were interrupted by a very sweet voice, “Pardon me, I’m in the window seat.”
Rose was startled, and she stuttered briefly as she stood up to let her new seatmate move past her. She turned and took a good look. She couldn’t believe it. Even in her wildest dreams, she had never a woman as beautiful as this girl, no . . . lady. She was about five-foot-eight and subtly curved. Her long black hair and the brief glance at her face told her ethnic background was mostly Asian, but she didn’t think she had ever met an Asian lady so tall. She looked about thirty or so. When she pushed her carry-on into the overhead bin she got a glimpse of a tight belly with a small jewel in her belly button. Her arm had a flowery tattoo. Then she ducked slightly and slipped into her seat. Rose sat back down and was debating how to start a conversation with her when someone else dropped a bag on the aisle seat.
She looked over and really couldn’t believe her eyes, a virtual Amazon was stuffing a bag into the overhead. She had to be over six-foot and seriously built! Like her first seatmate, this one’s top rode up and she saw what looked like an honest-to-god six-pack. She was obviously in incredible shape. When she finally looked down, Rose got caught by a gorgeous face framed by a mane of blonde hair, blue eyes, and a terrific grin. She stuck out her hand, “Anna!”
Rose looked at it for a moment then took it. It was almost twice the size of hers and she also had a very firm hand. “Rose!”
“I see you met Celia.”
“Huh?”
As she sat, she pointed to the window seat. Rose had almost completely forgotten her. When she turned suddenly and saw a grinning lady.
“It’s okay, she affects everyone that way. I’m Celia, by the way.”
Rose stuttered again, this time an apology.
“It really is okay. Even if I was sitting in your lap, she would still disconnect your brain by just standing there. I mean look at her!”
Rose instantly felt in over her head and decided the best course was to calm down. “Would you two prefer to sit together?”
Anna laughed, “Looking to escape the middle seat?”
“No, I just figured if you’re friends. . .”
“Sure, we’ll let that stand as the reason. Actually, Rose, she prefers the window and I have to have an aisle for these legs.”
She stretched them out in the aisle for a moment and even though Rose was straight, she could only appreciate them encased in a tight pair of jeans.
Celia leaned close to Rose.
“To quote my favorite comic book hero, ‘you hit the jackpot, Tiger!’”
Rose looked at her incredulously, “Mary Jane?”
“OMG, a real nerd!” Celia crowed.
From Rose’s other side came a groan. “No, not another one.”
Rose looked confused, “Another what?”
“She keeps throwing out nerd quotes like I’m supposed to know them. Old comics, TV shows, Manga and Amine . . . you name it and she knows it. You must have understood her line, which made her very happy.”
“So you aren’t friends?”
They both laughed.
“We are, just like giving each other a hard time.”
The rest of the flight boarded and they chatted a little, nothing special, as the plane finally made altitude. Rose thought it was nice having two ladies as opposed to the norm. The drink cart came by and Rose bought each of them a drink.
“Cheers!”
They drank and chatted a bunch more. They spoke about basically inconsequential things, why they were heading for the coast, where they were staying, how long they were going to be there. Rose barely remembered the conversations because every time she looked at either of her seatmates, she would get distracted. Anna had taken off a short jacket and her top was so skin-tight it looked like paint. It was cool on the airplane, as usual, and it showed. While she never had the comment aimed at her meager offerings, she got an object lesson in “Her headlights were on high-beam”.
Celia hadn’t had a jacket, but she had an overshirt that was open. She shrugged out of it with a motion that looked very sexy. Rose mentally shook herself, “Sexy? What am I thinking!”
Things got quiet as they dimmed the cabin lights, pretty normal for late flights. Celia decided to take a little nap. Anna and Rose talked some more, but at the long flight dragged on, Rose put her chair back and was dozing a little off and on, which was also her usual for a long flight.
At one point she opened her eyes and found she was looking right at Celia. Her eyes were also open and she was only inches away. She put her finger to her lips and then mimed ‘sleeping’ and pointed past her. She assumed Anna was asleep. Then Celia did something unusual, she pushed toward her and kissed her, right on the lips.
This was not a little peck, as she pressed her lips against hers, her hand snaked out and caught the back of her neck pulling her closer even if she was thinking of pulling away.
Then her tongue pushed in and did things she never knew a tongue could do. She made some sort of noise and she pulled away quickly and whispered, “Shhh!”
Then she came back in and kissed her again, only longer and — a word she never thought she would ever use for a kiss — harder. Not that those lips were anything but soft, it was more the kind of kiss. It didn’t seem to matter what Rose thought, Celia was kissing her and not taking no for an answer.
While that second kiss went on, Rose realized she had put up the seat arm and was pressing her body against hers. When she grabbed her hand and put it to her breast, she pulled away like it was burning hot. That’s when she realized there was a blanket covering the two of them.
She pulled her hand back and put it on her breast again, holding it there until she felt her squeeze.
She could feel her smile into the kiss and then she pulled away again but stayed a heartbeat from her.
Speaking of heartbeats, hers started climbing rapidly. Celia was so close, she couldn’t even focus on her clearly. Then her tongue came out and licked across her lips, slowly and very sensually; she felt herself responding.
She had to be dreaming, just had to be. Stuff like this only happens in dreams and Penthouse Forum letters and maybe, just maybe in some of her dreams. Very late night ones, ones she would never dare admit to anyone. She closed her eyes and inhaled, Celia’s scent was flowery, and then she whispered in her ear, “Like I said, Tiger, the jackpot!”
She brought a hand briefly out of under the blanket and stroked her face, then without Rose seeing, gave a thumbs up to Anna, who was not sleeping, but grinning. When her hand came back under the blanket, she took it right to Rose’s groin and rubbed firmly. She felt both of her reactions. One was her opening her legs slightly wider, maybe not even realizing she had done it. The other was a fear reaction from all kinds of things, including getting caught. Instead of waiting patiently to see which reaction wins, she starts rubbing her through her slacks, jilling her firmly.