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Forum Category: Erotic Stories
  
  Topic
 Originator Date Posted 
   New Erotica Blog/ Super Sexy Excerpt  

HARBOR CITY, CA
3/5/2012 21:30
Posted By:  - HARBOR CITY, CA  
 
Date Posted: 3/5/2012 21:30
  



Check this out!


Excerpt from A New Erotic Blog


Eden Sage Skye Erotica - 


Naughty Adventures of a Sexy modern Stewardess


http://edensageskye.blogspot.com





Enjoy!


Sky Story 1: Fine Art









The airplanes we work on are
quite different from one another. Some enormous, others sort-of cozy, and you
would imagine on those birds that are considerably larger, you would get away
with more. However, I have found that you become more creative on the smaller
jets.




  On this particular afternoon flight from Los
Angeles to New Orleans, I had only 8 passengers in first class. A tall,
statuesque attractive woman took her seat in 2B and asked for champagne. Since
9/11, champagne on my airline is no longer a beverage that was offered on
domestic routes. No alternatives would do.




Ok, Ms Bourgeoisie, I got
your number. I gauge her recovery time from her blatant disappointment.




After takeoff, she asked for
the wine list. “Really?” I am somewhat surprised, expecting her to know better.




It would seem reasonable in
first class, but that was a dead giveaway that she didn’t fly first often
enough domestically to know that wine lists don’t exist unless you are on a
very premium service to JFK.




    In my experience, I have found it continually
frustrating to be unable to offer more of a sophisticated service with the fact
that we have fewer and fewer options, and premium products onboard to take care
of our passengers in this manner.  That
only means that at any given moment, I do what I need to do to make someone’s
day just because it’s the small details that make a difference when you fly.




   I felt an obligation to let her know that
hopefully the sauvignon blanc and my smile would suffice. She declared she
usually had disdain for sweet white wine, but would try it per my suggestion
with her inflight meal. The initial bourgeois had dissipated and she now seemed
content, as I checked on her intermittently. Before long, the bottle was empty.
Her seat partner had stopped drinking at two glasses and was buried in her book.




   I brushed Ms. B’s arm with my hand, while
she sat, I knelt down, eye level with her, ever so slightly caressing her arm.
I gave her permission to come to the galley and talk with me, if she was bored.
She seemed restless, watching me as I took care of minutiae. She seemed hungry
for connection, obviously buzzed and shyly admitted never having had a
conversation with a flight attendant before.




  We exchanged laughs easily about this and
that, a casual flirtation evident in both of our attempts to kill time. The dry
air was beginning to grow thick with a knowing that something else was occurring as we spoke together. I watched her
tuck wisps of her blond bob behind her ear, and catch her glance, and saw her
smile widen as she carefully observed my face. “Your bone structure is
magnificent.” She commented. I was caught off guard.




I smiled, looking up into her
blue eyes, held her gaze, and spoke softly. “You are very striking, as well.”




  She shared her frustrations about deciphering
the culture in New Orleans, about selling fine art to old money. I watched her
mouth move, transfixed by the shape of her lips and wondered what it would be
like to kiss her. The seat belt sign flashed and the ding sent her to her seat.
 Moments later, after checking the cabin,
I passed her seat and smiled at her, touching her hand once again on the
armrest. She grasped my fingers tightly for a fleeting second. She flushed
excitedly, a bit flustered, but eagerly returned back to my galley as soon as
the sign flashed off.  We chatted benignly
about life, and what kind of men we appreciated, and spots we loved to travel
to in the world. It was beginning to feel like an inflight date. I decided I would
let her do all the work. I had done my job, anyway.




  She began to rave about my personal touch, my
consideration of her, this being her best ever flight. I smiled. I had heard
all of these things so many times before, but somehow they charmed me coming
from this beauty. The tension had been building steadily and suddenly, as the
end of the flight crept closer, she made her way back to my side in the galley,
quietly inquiring,




“How can I have a drink with
you after this flight?”




I slowly allowed the
reverberation of the question to sink in. I took a deep breath, thinking
loudly, “This could be THAT layover.” My mind raced to how to coordinate such a
spontaneous encounter, with my unknowing matronly flying partners that may or
may not be able to grasp such a fabulous idea of sleeping with, or at least
fondling another woman.




 I opted to let my newfound beauty know, as she
handed me her card, that I would call her when I had arrived in my hotel room
near the airport.  I couldn’t get to the
Hilton fast enough. The air was so steamy outside, a reflection of exactly how
I felt deep down inside my womanhood.




 It was a first, after all. How many beautiful
women have ever tried to seduce me on an airplane? (Exactly none, until today.)
I would not allow myself to refuse the chance to see just what this was. Once able
to use my cell phone, I hurriedly texted my boyfriend a quick briefing of my unexpected
inflight encounter and the ensuing potentiality and was granted immediate permission
to explore the possibilities, with a promised recap after the fact. I nervously
and intentionally checked into my room, on another floor, away from my flying
partners.




   As I made my way down the hall, I recalled
the Saints were staying at the same hotel for their NFL training before the
football season had started. Suddenly, it was all I could do to not picture a
strong, dark skinned athlete adding in his flavorful member to the rendezvous. I
forced myself to reset the mental image into something a bit more tame. I love
how my mind just builds on a fantasy when I allow it.




 I texted Ms. B my hotel room number, and she
said she was detained in baggage claim with a dramatic story of her ex trying
to win her back, but would be joining me in a few minutes. I wondered if it was
a ploy to never show up. I wouldn’t allow it to play out further that way in my
mind.




 Before I could get out of the shower, I heard
a knock on my door. Was I actually answering the door with a towel wrapped
around my body, my hair dripping wet?




I surprised even myself.
There I was, opening up the door just a crack to ensure nothing was awry, and
slowly backing up behind the door in to my body, as she entered the room.




  She brought a bottle of wine and surveyed the
scene.




I sat on the end of the King size
bed with her and apologized for not being ready, knowing full well, she enjoyed
what she was observing. My damp cleavage peeked above the edge of the towel,
wanting to be seen, and acknowledged. I decided to not be the aggressor, as is
my natural default. I felt her energy fall to a place of just needing to be
heard, so I sat, relaxed, and listened to her talk intently, sipping the
chilled sweet white wine. I smiled, thinking about nothing else but how to get
her to lie down and give me her body.




   I knew
she loved the idea of what she had done, showing up in my hotel with her big
southern straw hat, and long cotton dress that hugged her curves, almost like
she was enjoying a day at the Races. I decided I had heard just about enough
small talk. It was getting late, and my layover was getting shorter. My
original plan to allow her to make the first move went by the wayside.




  I shifted my body closer and leaned my head
cockeyed,  facing her and asked if I
could touch her breasts, but never waited for the ok. I grazed the sweet skin
as it folded down the center of her body. Suddenly, she took her hands, one at
a time, and one breast at a time, cupping herself on the outside of her dress,
and with the other hand gently released the fleshy goddess like globes for me
to admire. Her nipples were so perfectly small, pink and hard.  My heart raced as I gently but firmly
massaged her sugar soft , milky white tits, and looked deeply into her eyes,
waiting to see her reaction. She reached over and pulled the towel off of my
body and returned my caress, murmuring that I was a sculpture. I watched her
body heave with newfound pleasure. We began to explore the feminine curves that
captivated us and threw us quickly into a completely alternative reality. Her
lips were suddenly on my neck, her breathing rapid, and her hands tangled in my
damp hair.




The wine now set aside on the
table, our mouths on each other, and our tongues deeply yet delicately dancing
together.




  The dance continued, as her amazon-like frame
melded to mine in an excited frenzy, to find just the right position to
capitalize on the heat of our skin pressed together, and listening to the other
fall deeper into a trance of sensual discovery. Her mouth fell to my left
breast, and she sucked hungrily, eyes closed, breathing in my body, while I fingered
strands of her silken hair, watching how open her luscious lips were, wishing I
had something for her to swallow.  I took
my hands off of her and pushed my own swelling breasts together, so she could
take both nipples in her mouth. She pulled back, waiting for me to feed her.
She had such focus, no longer tenacious and was intent on one thing. My pussy
lips had begun to enlarge with my special juices way back on the airplane, as I
had plenty of time to envision how our now mutual seduction would be. Here we
were, just the two of us, so similar in so many ways. The raw desire in both of
us having seeped out and now we couldn’t help ourselves but to begin licking it
off of each other. The ecstacy was palpable.




   I looked down as she continued to morph into
the most sensual creature and caught myself in the most surreal moment. “How
much do I love this?” I thought.




It was truly an indelible
memory seared into my minds eye. I slowly pried her off of my aching breasts,
and took control of her.




My hand lifted her head by
grasping ever so gently, but tightly, around her neck, covering her with small
slow kisses. My lips trace an invisible curved line down the middle of her
chest, and pressed her succulent breasts to both sides of my face, almost
unable to hear any sound. I could sense her head arch back in my peripheral
vision and knew she was more open to me than any man she’d allowed herself to
be with in a very long while.




  I heard her moan, and felt her begin to sway
her body into a soothing rythym. Her hands were now on my shoulders, moving up
and down,stroking my neck ‘s soft skin. 




“You are so beautiful!”  I whispered, admiring my conquest. Or was I
hers? I felt a giddiness fill me like a child playing in a field of golden
butterflies,  and having just caught one
for her very own. I can’t stop the euphoria from building inside of my being.




  I begin to tempt her luscious body further,
reaching for her sugary lips between her legs. Her pink mound was velvety and
bare, with glistening wetness oozing onto my fingers. I pulled back, barely
touching her now, watching her mouth gasp with an inaudible vibration. I pushed
her legs apart with my own, and lowered my body down onto her torso, convincing
her to give up the secrets I could tell she was holding inside.




 “I’m just like you, you know?” I confirmed she
was listening by hearing her moan aloud, this time audible and quite distinctly
“Yes... I know.”




I continued,  “Tell me exactly what you were thinking about
when I was taking care of you on the plane.”




She cleared her throat a
little, and kept her eyes closed, and began to speak hesitantly as a smile
spread across her lips.




“ I just kept watching you,
and you were so sweet to me, and so attentive. I wanted to talk, but then once
we started talking, I wanted to touch you. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting
to kiss you. You are such a sexy woman. “




It gave me a thrilling rush
to hear her words.  I began to tell her
what she already knew.




“Every time I come to New
Orleans , we’ll spend time together. You will be my girlfriend here. You do
understand me, right?” She nodded, submissively, as my tongue very carefully
darted for the first time across her 
swollen nub of tenderness.  Her
breath rushed in sharply and  I wrapped
my tongue gently around her clit. Softly pulling, sucking it up to the roof of
my mouth, then softening my tongue and slowly licking her juice from the bottom
of her sex, all up through her divinity. She tasted like the sweetest kind of
candy. Her cream had just a little tang, enough to keep me diligent at lapping
it up like a cat, mesmorized in a newly poured bowl of milk. She began to
squirm. I held her legs, and opened her further to my mouth. Her body tensed
and she squeezed, arching her back for more.




  “Give it to me, baby, give it all to me.” I
demanded. She had started pushing her pussy into my mouth now, and I was
breathing deep and fast out of my nostrils. Her pelvis pumping into my face, I
was astonished as she responded to my tongue. Her unexpected initial hesitation
, turned submission, now aggression would transport her to a place of desperation
and her fists clenched the sheets as she exploded in my mouth. My throat was
coated with her feminine waters and I gulped as quickly as I could, not wanting
to miss a drop.




I felt the skin on my face
washed in warmth, and touched my chin as she lifted herself off of me. I
watched her lie still, her breasts having fallen to one side, and her hand
grazing between her legs, feeling her own wetness. I loved the quiet,
reflective moment that passed between us. I slid next to her and without saying
anything, simply placed my hand into hers, raising it to my lips, and kissed
the top of her hand. Her eyes opened and suddenly her awareness returned. The relaxed
state of blissfulness was sharply curtailed by a flurry of activity as she
bounded up and off the mattress. She trailed off a million excuses for all she
had to be ready for in the morning. She had to open the gallery, and she
couldn’t go in with the clothes on her back. She wouldn’t be able to spend the
night, but that next time, perhaps, there would be a night like one I was now
requesting.




I took a breathe and watched
her flutter about the room, collecting herself, as I became content to stay in
one place and wish her the best. She left me to stare at the 2 plastic cups on
the bedside table with the half empty bottle of now lukewarm bottle of wine,
and wonder if she ever really had intended to be in my room at all.




  A few months have now passed, and we’ve
exchanged a few random texts, and  sexy
photos but surprisingly, I haven’t had any trips back to MSY to enjoy my
butterfly once again. Maybe next month…










































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