Sxcapades

Tricia Gets to Ride First Class

by tribalsurf ©

* Editor’s Note: - This is the orginal version with a very slight modification

“Jesus!” I muttered under my breath when I saw the girl standing alone in the busy terminal. She was about the hottest thing I’d seen since I left Florida ten days ago. Thirteen going on twenty I guessed judging by her makeup. She was obviously unsure of her own sexuality (perhaps sheltered or a country girl) or at that age of experimentation with eye liners and mascara, trying to look older than her actual years. But God was she gorgeous! Slender and about five foot – four and no more than 110 pounds soaking wet. Surprisingly nice breasts under her sweat shirt with only the beginnings of hips starting to show.

I have always been attracted to girls who appear to be fresh and uncontaminated by life. I nonchalantly moved a bit closer to get a better look at her. Lustrous brown hair, green eyes under eyeliner that had been laid on with a trowel. Petite and gangly at the same time; those awkward years for a young woman as she morphs from caterpillar to butterfly. This sweet young thing was well on her way. She was studying her boarding pass and looking up at the gate sign, squinting as though her vision wasn’t too good. Well that was certainly a plus in my regard, I chuckled to myself.

Upon closer examination I moved her age to at least eighteen, observing last year’s graduation class ring on her slender finger. Better. She was still squinting at the ticket in her hand when I approached.

“They use small enough print, don’t they?” I said wearing my most disarming smile as I stood before her. She looked up, startled by my sudden intrusion, then smiled embarrassedly, keeping her mouth closed in that way girls who are shy about wearing braces on their teeth will.

“I’m having a hard time reading this stupid thing,” she admitted. “I’m heading to Orlando, but there’s so many numbers I can’t make heads or tails of it. Is this the right gate for the 10PM flight?” I was looking at her pass upside down and was able to read her name; Tricia Berke.

“Yup, you’re in the right place. Let’s see what zone you’re in and seat assignment so you’ll know when to board,” I suggested, keeping my eyes looking down at her voucher so she wouldn’t think I was staring at her. She turned sideways so she was just in front of me and leaned in so I could get a better look. She smelled of moonbeams and violets, with a hint of cannabis sativa thrown in for good measure.

“OK, you’re in Zone 7 and in seat 44B, a middle seat, way in the back of the plane.” I looked down at her huge carry on duffle and added, “You’ll have a hard time finding a place for that, Miss.”

“Why is that?” she asked looking up over her shoulder into my face, her eyes searching mine.

“By the time Zone 7 boards, most of the overhead bins will be crammed full,” I replied, looking down at her and then moving my eyes quickly away to scan the waiting lounge filled with other waiting passengers. Her gaze followed mine and she sighed at the amount of carry-on luggage everyone was planning to bring aboard

“Oh no,” she sighed, as if resigned to the fact that the Fates always conspired against her. “I was going to check it, but I have some stuff in here that can’t get crushed. What do you think I should do?” She looked at me hopefully, and I prayed that my next line wouldn’t appear too forward.

“You’re Tricia, right?” I asked, looking again down at her name on the boarding ticket. “My name is Dave…. Dave Sunderland.” I held out my boarding pass for her to see.

“Wow, Zone 1, seat 2B,” she exclaimed. “That must be in First Class Mr. Sunderland!”

“Miss Berke, I normally wouldn’t go out of my way to help a stranger in an airport, but this looks to me like your first time flying; at least alone. Right?”

She nodded her head submissively.

“But you seem like a nice person, so here’s an offer for you. How about we both go up to the gate agent and see if I can use my millions of points with this airline and get you seated up in First. Not necessarily next to me, but at least in Zone 1 so your bag will be safe and sound. Plus they have a lot better seats for sleeping, and there’s no middle seats either,” I laughed. “Nothing worse than being in the middle between a fat guy wearing a tank top and a mother holding an unhappy baby in her lap way in the back of the plane.

“Really?” Tricia asked wide-eyed. “You’d do that for me?”

I was getting the feeling that this gal was one of those girls who had yet come to realize how hot she is. Maybe she has strict parents who never compliment her, or maybe an older sister or two who have beaten her down since she was a toddler.

“Sure, why not?” I exclaimed, smiling at her and looking her full in the face. She smiled back broadly and sure enough, there they were, bright stainless braces on both upper and lower rows of teeth. Just adorable. We stepped up to the agent, who gave me a dazzling smile when I presented my ID and boarding pass.

With a couple of taps on her keyboard she quickly presented Trish a new boarding pass, Zone 1, seat 2A. Right next to me.

“Congratulations, Miss Berke, you’re now in First Class. Unfortunately you’re my seatmate, so that makes you subject to horrible jokes and loud snoring should you let me drift off to sleep as we jet across the continent.”

She was delighted, and quipped, “I love bad jokes, and if you snore I’ll elbow you in the side, Mr. Sunderland. And since we’re gonna be mating, you can call me Tricia if you’d like.” Suddenly her face went bright red as she realized what she had just said.

“Oh my God! Did I really just say that? I am, like so embarrassed.” She hid her face in her hands and peeked between them to see my expression.

“A Freudian slip, I presume,” I mumbled casually. “Think nothing of it.”

“Yeah, that’s probably what it was,” she agreed, acting like she knew what the expression meant. “I do stuff like that all the time, Mr. Sunderland,” she said, seemingly exasperated with herself. “I say the dumbest things… like you know, what I just said about us mating. I mean, it’s not like I’m thinking…” her voice trailed off as she sought the right words. “…It’s not like I’m thinking about sex — well, I mean I do think about it, but I didn’t mean… Oh shit! I’m not sure what I mean.” She giggled again, pulling her shoulders up and batting her eyes at me. “Just ignore me, Mr. Sunderland, or if I say something stupid, just stuff something into my mouth to shut me up.”

“Deal, Tricia. My name’s Dave.” I stuck out my hand and she responded by taking it in hers, holding it just a bit longer than one normally would. I decided my next move would be to distance myself from her a bit, taking away too much familiarity too quickly and see how she responded.

“I’ve got a few phone calls to make before we board. Just grab a seat somewhere and I’ll see you once we’re on the plane.”

“Oh… OK,” she said with forced enthusiasm. Her eyes darted around, suddenly unsure of herself again and wondering what she should do next.

“…Or you can join me if you’d like” I suggested. “I’m going into the Crowne Room to get away from all this noise.”

“Is that like the VIP lounge?” she asked, brightening at my offer.

“Yeah, it’s just down the concourse. They have free drinks and snacks and internet connections if you wanna come. Big comfy chairs, too. They’ll announce when it’s time for us to board.”

“Wow, Mr. Sunderland… I mean Dave,” she giggled, “this is all too cool. First Class and now the VIP lounge.” She shouldered up her bag, staggering under its weight.

I plucked it off her easily and slung it over mine, straightening my suit coat under the wide strap. “Off we go.”

We chatted aimlessly as we walked down the busy corridor, with me giving her a running commentary on different odd people we’d pass. I made up outrageous tales, provoking fits of giggles and outright snorts of laughter from her. She caught on and added her own biographies, and I was pleased to find that she was bright and funny. One particularly weird guy stopped us in our tracks.

“He’s into self-abuse,” I whispered into her ear. “He’s just out from the lavatory where he pleasured himself while conjuring up the image of two nuns and a Shetland pony.”

Tricia turned bright red and looked over at me. I was afraid I had gone much too far, but I wanted to find out if she’d be shocked or delighted at such an image. “I think it was a priest and a Great Dane, actually, Dave… Did you notice the way he was sniffing the air? Purely gender bent, there.”

I looked back over my shoulder and smiled, “Oh yeah, I see it now. Good catch.”

“That poor Great Dane,” she sighed. “I love dogs.”

“You do?” I said, dragging out the vowel in semi-accusation and feigning a look of shock.

This brought on another crimson flush to her pretty face, causing her to cover it with her hands. “Not like that! I mean I like dogs as pets!”

“So what about Shetland Ponies then?” I asked, still smiling and jiggling my eyebrows up and down.

“Eeewww! Gross! Sorry, I only like guys, and even most of them are pretty yucky.” She looked up at me with a startled expression, embarrassed by her admission. “Oh my god, how did we ever get on this subject?”

“I’m sorry, Tricia. I just got carried away,” I said sincerely as we reached the door to the lounge. “I should behave more properly around a young lady such as yourself.”

“That’s OK, Dave,” she said grabbing hold of my arm to let me know she meant it. “I’m glad you treat me like a grownup and joke around like that. My parents and older sisters act like I’m still a baby. It took a month of convincing to even get them to let me take this flight to my grandmother’s on my own. I finally told them that I’m a graduate for Pete’s sake, in most cultures around the world girls my age are already married and having babies!”

‘So that would make you… how old?” I asked, feeling more and more like The Big, Bad Wolf. I felt my snout extending and my ears growing pointed and hairy.

“Awww, do I have to say? I’m afraid if I do you’ll quit being so nice to me. You’ll figure I’m not sophisticated and not worth the trouble.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” I asked rhetorically.

I held the door for her and we approached the reception counter together. I signed in and put her name down as my guest. The pretty girl at the desk gave us the rundown of the amenities, not looking at Tricia even once. She cast an obvious glance at the naked spot where a wedding band would be were I married, and subtly placed her own on the counter to announce that she too was single. I thanked her and gave her a tiny wink, which caused her to sit up straight and run her tongue across her lips before she ended her patter.

“Gawd, do you have that affect on every woman you meet, Dave?” Tricia giggled once we were out of the reception area and heading through one of the lounge’s workstation areas. “She just about tripped over her own tongue, it was hanging out so far.”

“Huh?” I asked innocently.

“Oh come on! First the ticket lady at the gate, and now this one in here, that’s what. Both of them were undressing you and imagining all kinds of kinky sex or something when they looked at you.”

“Naah, it’s those millions of points I have. That’s all. They’re told to be especially nice to us Platinum Members. We’re their bread and butter.”

“Yeah, right.” she muttered dismissively. “I’d hate to be your girlfriend is all I can say. I’d be jealous all the time.”

“Well, I think you’re just being nice is what I think,” I shrugged. “Most women see what they want to see in a guy. I have a lot of points. I dress pretty good. Keep my hair trimmed, although my beard is a bit scruffy,” I added, “so some of them might think I’m money in the bank. That’s all.”

Trish reached up and ran a hand across the stubble on my cheek. “Yeah, you could use a little trim,” she agreed.

Now just what the hell was that supposed to mean? Did she even know what she just said? Who was playing who here?

I just shook my head and took a seat at the small bar after dropping her bag and my small roll-aboard on a sofa grouping in a darkened corner of the lounge. The bartender came over and I ordered a Stoly and cranberry. He looked at Tricia and she looked him right in the eye and said she’d have the same. He shrugged and went about his job, free pouring generously into the heavy crystal glasses. It was a slow night, and what the hell did he care if she was young enough to be my daughter? I put a twenty on the bar as we picked up our drinks. My little fox grabbed a bowl of snack mix and we retired to our private spot. We still had ninety minutes before our plane left, so we settled in and made ourselves more comfortable by removing our jackets.

Under her down parka the fuck toy of my dreams was wearing a cropped teddy tank with spaghetti straps. The shirt was a John Butler Trio tour souvenir. On the front was a sketched rendering of the trio.

“I know those guys,” I announced when I saw it, taking plenty of time to check out her flat belly and perky tits while I pretended to be studying the shirt.

“They’re great, aren’t they?” she enthused. “I saw them when they came to Los Angeles last summer. I come out every year to visit my grandma.”

“Terrific,” I agreed. “I met them at a studio in LA where I was doing some business. I tried to book them for a winter tour at some clubs I run, but they already had other commitments.”

“You mean you know them personally?” she asked, her eyes lighting up as she turned to give me closer inspection.

“More like I know them professionally, and even then not very well…” I admitted as I straightened my slacks after sitting down. Her eyes instinctively followed my hand as I pretended to brush some lint off the area around my crotch. As usual, Mr. Wood was lying there waiting for fresh prey, not erect, but certainly apparent under the thin material of my suit trousers. I clenched the piss muscle and caused my dick to stir a bit as I moved my hand away. Tricia was totally mesermized until I spoke again.

“We hung out for a couple of hours and I took them around to a couple of clubs in Los Angeles,” I continued, smiling to myself. “Really down to earth guys with that typical skewed humor the Aussies have.”

While we sat together on the leather sofa Trish was trying to be nonchalant with her drink, but it soon became apparent it was her first run-in with liquor. She sipped tentatively at first, then took a big gulp. I could tell when her eyes got real big that it had more kick than she expected. They were pretty strong drinks, like I said. I looked at her over the rim of my glass and saw a lovely young lady who I was sure I was put on this earth to turn into a lovely young woman.

“So you own a bunch of clubs? Is that what you do? Fly around all over the place checking on them?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Well, I’m involved in a couple of other ventures besides the clubs, but yeah, I guess that’s pretty much what I do. I fly around checking on the businesses me and my partners are invested in. I go over the books, get to know the staff and major patrons, book some talent here and there.”

“So where’s home for you?” she said, her eyes filled with awe.

“You mean like where was I born? Where was I raised? That kind of home?” I said, scooting a bit closer to my target. I put my arm around her shoulders waiting to see her reaction. I did it casually, as if merely stretching out, but it was a small couch and there was no mistaking that we were cheek to cheek.

She leaned forward and picked her drink up off the coffee table then settled back, not at all put off. “No, I mean where is your home now,” as she nestled herself into me.

“Don’t have one, I guess,” I said, as I turned to look at her, playing with a strand of hair that hung next to her ear. “I have an apartment in Miami Beach, another in LA, one in New York that I share with one of my partners, and I own some property here and there, but at this point I don’t call anywhere in particular home. Both my parents are gone, my brother and sister are busy with their own lives, and I like to keep moving. You know, the old rolling stone gathering no moss.”

“Sounds like the kind of life I’ve always dreamed of living,” she said wistfully, staring into my eyes.

Suddenly she leaned in and kissed me feverishly, pressing her mouth to mine while catching hold of both my forearms with her hands. Her soft, full lips, like those of a child, were hot against my own. I opened my mouth and pressed my tongue to hers, quickly scanning the room through slitted eyes for witnesses to this salacious kiss. The coast was clear, and Tricia responded immediately by guiding my hands to the bare skin of her sides, then urging my hands upward under her shirt. Forward little cuss, aint she?

I reached up and pushed her bra up over her small breasts, cupping them and squeezing them together roughly as we continued our kiss. I took each cupcake and tweaked the nipples, softly at first and then with a light pinch while rolling them between my finger and thumb. This caused her to moan, her warm breath going straight into my own lungs. I removed my hands and gently pushed us apart. Her eyes remained closed for a long moment and when she opened them she seemed disoriented. Dizzy.

She pulled her bra back down and looked away embarrassedly. I caught her by the scruff of her neck and pulled her backward so she was again sitting tight against me.

“That was nice,” I whispered. “We just can’t get caught by anyone,” I continued. “But I want to kiss you again,” as I nuzzled her ear.

She giggled and then took another swig of her drink. I had already finished mine and stood up to get another from our friendly bartender in the next room.

“Bring me one, too?” she asked shyly, looking up at me big eyed and batting her lashes while pulling her mouth into the shape of a pout.

“Sure,” I said as I walked out the room.

When I got to the bar I was already formulating a plan. Stan the barkeep was wiping out some glasses, trying to keep busy to pass the time.

“Yo Stan, another round if you will, my friend. And one for yourself if it’s allowed.”

He shrugged and poured mixed our vodkas, then took down a bottle of twelve year old Scotch and poured himself a generous slug. He brought the drinks over on a tray and as he set it down I slipped a C-note under it.

“Is that enough to ensure some privacy for me and the young lady in the next room, or is there someplace else you’d suggest we can relax without any intrusions?”

“I dunno,” Stan said cautiously. “I can’t really forbid people from walking around in here – especially those broads who work the reception desk.” He was middle-aged and balding, with a pot belly hanging over his belt and the look of someone worn down by life. But I had caught him giving Tricia the appreciative look over so I knew he wasn’t squeamish about what I was implying.

I slipped another $100 bill onto the bar. “Where? In there, Stan, or someplace else?”

“We gotta a room for overnighters we hardly ever use. In case of long flight delays. I guess you could use it,” he said hesitantly. But the intercom don’t work back there, so you’re on your own to make your flight. And if anyone asks, you went back there on your own, like you knew about it and had your own key.”

“That sounds perfect. Where’s the room and where’s the key?”

“All the way in the back, through the room you’re in and down the back hall that says Private on it.” He looked me squarely in the eye and said, “The key will cost you another hundred bucks.”

I shook my head and smiled. “You drive a hard bargain, Stan, but for this I expect you to keep it completely private. I promise to leave the place tidied up and no evidence of our ever being in there.” I handed him two more fifties, which he snatched up before they ever lay flat on the counter.

“Deal, sir. You won’t have no interruptions, guaranteed.” He was positively beaming at this new windfall to his income as he reached down and took a key from a hook under the bar. “This here’s a spare, and like I told you, you already had this, OK?”

I gave him a conspiratorial wink and nod and went whistling back to my little angelita de la noche with the drinks. I placed them on the table and then pulled her up by her hands and into a tight embrace. “What do you say we pick up where we left off a few moments ago, sweetheart?” I breathed huskily into her left ear.

She responded by standing up on tip-toe and offering her cute face up to me for another kiss. Oh yeah, she was an eager beaver all right.

“Grab your coat and the drinks and follow me, sugar britches,” I laughed. “I’ve found us a better spot to make out.”

She swooped up the stuff so fast I thought she might trip and spill our glasses while I gathered up the luggage.

The room was musty but clean. Inside was a row of twin beds, each separated by a curtain similar to those used in hospitals for privacy. It was sparingly furnished, but efficient for those times when members have to stay overnight at the airport due to inclement weather or mechanical delays. Tricia headed straight to the sleep area at the back of the room, putting the drinks on the nightstand while giving me what she must been her oft practiced, but seldom used sexy look. She took up her drink and treated herself to a large gulp. Her eyes watered and her knees wobbled, but she managed to choke it down. With a cute shake of her arse she headed for the toilet.

“Back in a flash, Dave,” she called over her shoulder. “I gotta pee.”

Well, I guess I was glad she didn’t have to take a shit, but I would have much preferred she kept such information to herself. Just another American trait that takes getting used to…

As good as her word, she was back in less than 2 minutes. I heard the commode flush, the water run in the sink, and then there she was standing before me dressed only in her little shirt and panties. My heart fluttered at her beauty. Girl Next Door type, but on the verge of becoming a real stunner. Her long hair, parted down the middle framed her oval face. Her heavy eye makeup did nothing to distract one from her soft eyes, plush lips, perfect skin.

She walked slowly up to me, allowing me to devour her with my eyes. Her nipples stood out against her shirt, her arousal apparent. She stepped closer and loosened my tie, pulling it through the collar when it was undone. Then she began on my shirt, taking each button with both hands as she pressed her small body against my own. I pushed her hands down to my belt as I took over the buttons of my shirt. She unhooked my pants and slid down my zipper, then helped me pull my shirt and t-shirt off. She breathed deeply when she saw my broad chest and well developed abs.

Her hands went back to my hips, now pushing my trousers down. I pulled her shirt up over her head, and she tossed her head to shake her hair into place. I stepped out of my pants, leaving me in my boxers patterned in whimsical blue jellyfish, which made her giggle. I took the waist of her panties and pulled them up tight into her crotch, giving her a wedgie so I could see the outline of her little pie. I bunched the material in one hand to bare her cheeks and was delighted to see a perfect little bubble butt, pale as the sheet on the bed we stood next to.

I took her into my arms and kissed her softly, allowing her to set the pace. My hands traveled the length of her torso, feeling the texture and ripeness of her skin and pausing now and again to caress her breasts. We sat down together on the bed and I pulled her onto my lap. As our lips stayed pressed my right hand began moving from her knee, traversing the distance between that spot and her thigh and back down again, brushing against her cunny each time until finally I ran a finger up and down the fabric covering her slit, pressing against her clit and then drawing circles around it.

Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps. She was slightly intoxicated, horny as hell and wet as a ripe plum. I slipped the cotton panty to the side. Not a hair to be seen - she kept herself groomed in a way not many girls appreciate, but all men do. My stiff rod was pushing against her ass, so I stood her up and spun her round so she faced me, locked in between my knees. I kissed her belly button, tracing its outline with my tongue as I pulled her panties down to her ankles. She stepped out one foot at a time and I nudged her feet apart so I could slide my hands up the insides of her legs.

She looked over my head toward the door and asked if I was certain we’d have no interruptions. My response was to bend forward and slowly lick her pussy in long, slow strokes. I felt her knees wobble and she put her hands on my shoulders as she stood there and allowed me to taste her. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to make someone come so badly as I did with her. I wasn’t convinced that I would be her first, nor did I really care for that matter. I just wanted to be her best.

I pulled her down onto the bed and lay alongside her, kissing her neck and ear, using my hot breath and rough beard to stimulate those erotic zones. My hand found her velvety mound and I pressed my palm against her pubic bone as I kissed and sucked her nipples. She had perfect little C cup titties topped with dark pennies. Working my way down her belly, which tickled her, I began again on her pussy.

She had delicate outer labial lips, which I stroked tenderly with my tongue. She was going wild, and I wanted her to have a quick, hard orgasm, but no more than she did herself. Her hand opened herself for me, pulling back the hood over her clit so I could give it the attention she so desperately craved. When I took over her hand went up to her breasts and began torturing her nipples and breasts, twisting them violently as if the pain delighted her.

I made her come once, and then twice and then again a third time, with barely any separation between each besides a deep sigh and a shudder that went through her body causing it to spasm and jerk. She was a blooming rosebud, and I knew I could do anything I wanted with her. The best part was that she wanted me to do whatever I wanted with her. Hell, I knew that even before her first sip of vodka.

I worked the length of my middle finger up and down the opening to her cunt, letting her wetness lubricate it. Using my other hand I opened her so I could expose her inner lips. I spit on her twat, then let my finger slide up inside her. She gave a little gasp and screwed her eyes shut tight. I probed around in there, feeling for her G spot before slipping my first finger up there, too. I spit again, this time further south, lubing my little finger with saliva as I worked it between the cheeks of her arse. She began squirming, trying to fight me, so to calm her I began working her clitty again with my tongue.

I changed her position, moving her onto her knees while she hung onto the headboard looking back at me. I worked two fingers inside her again and began rimming her asshole with my tongue. She was so slender that I had easy access to both puss and butthole, so I alternated between the two as she shuddered her way into her fourth climax.

Now it was my turn. I stood alongside the bed and dropped my boxers. My schlong stood out in front of me at its full nine inches.

“God, talk about Shetland Ponies,” she gasped as she saw its length and girth. She sat staring at it from on her knees, not knowing what to do with it. Finally she reached out and grasped the shaft like a spear, looking up at me with big eyes filled with wonder and a hint of fear.

“So have you ever….” I began, not knowing exactly how to ask her if she was a virgin. How could she not be? But she definitely knew how to pleasure herself.

“Not for real,” she replied. I looked at her quizzically, not understanding. “I mean, I’ve, uh, put other stuff inside me before, but not with a guy or anything. Alone. In my room late at night when I can’t sleep. But what I use is real small; nothing like this!”

I looked at my watch. We had sixty minutes before our flight began boarding. An hour before last call at the gate and they closed the cabin door. Plenty of time. I stepped closer to her and removed her hand.

“Open your mouth,” I commanded. “Stick out your tongue.” She did as I ordered. I placed the head of my cock onto it and told her to start licking it. She complied instantly and began working me over from balls to tip. I told her to French the hole and see if she could taste my precum. Amy nodded with a smile. I told her to use a hand to stroke the shaft as she bobbed on the head.

“Yessss… yes, that’s a good girl. Keep looking up at me with those pretty eyes of yours… Yes… Good… Suck me sweetheart,” I moaned, standing over her as she became absorbed in her work. “Now the balls. Take one into your mouth and suck on it, too. Good… Yes, that feels wonderful. Now back to the head and taste me again.”

When she had the hang of it, I lay down under her so I could lick her cunny while she gave me head. Once she was good and wet again I slid out from under her and left her again on her knees.

“Hang onto something babycakes, and stuff a corner of the pillow in your mouth. You’re about to be filled for the first time with real dick.”

“Is it gonna hurt, Dave?” she pleaded as she eyed my throbbing python. Her little quim was red and swollen in anticipation. She wanted me to stuff her, but she was also a bit scared.

“Just relax, sweetheart and breathe nice and deep. Once you learn that you won’t believe how good it feels.” I moved so the woodsman’s helmet was pressed against her pussy lips. “Open yourself for me, Tricia Delicia. Reach back and spread yourself.” My new name for her made her giggle.

Using both hands she did as I asked while I slid more and more of my cock inside her tight hole. Her undeveloped pelvic girdle didn’t give me much to hang onto as I worked myself deeper, but it was enough.

“Oh!” she cried once. “Oh sweet Jesus! Oh Joe, it feels good. It feels real good!” I was halfway inside her and I could feel her tightening and relaxing involuntarily. I pulled back a bit and then pushed deeper still.

“Ungh!” she gasped. “OK, try some more now. Yeah, that’s it. More!” She actually began pushing back against me, her tiny body looking so small next to mine.

I never in a million years thought the little tramp would be able to take my entire cock inside her, but she was determined, so I kept inching it in little by little. Finally I was pressed against her ass. She was humped up like an angry cat and mewling like a kitten. I eased out of her and she let out a long exhale. I realized she had been holding her breath, afraid to move for fear of bursting. I began fucking her slowly, building the tempo as I felt her relax. Soon she was in rhythm with me, bucking back as I thrust deep inside her. A natural. I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it so she arched her back, her face a grimace of pain and anger. I slapped her ass, spanking her and calling her a hot little fuck toy and the like.

“Yes! I’m a dirty little whore. I love to feel your big dick inside me,” she agreed. “Fuck me! Fuck me hard,” she snarled.

I obliged till I was ready to come. I knew she wasn’t going to get off again this way. But I was close. I pulled out of her and told her to roll over onto her back. I knee crawled up alongside her face and fed her my cock, now slick with her own juices. She smiled up at me as she slurped away.

“Ready for a treat, you bad little girl?” I asked through clenched teeth. She had the head of my cock balanced on her tongue while I stroked myself.

“Unh hunh,” she agreed, not knowing exactly what the treat might be. I unloaded a massive wad of come into her mouth, with a couple of spurts landing on her cheek and one on her chin. At least I didn’t mess up her eye makeup. Her brace filled mouth smiled up at me.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that,” she said after she swallowed. Using my dick like a spatula I swept the stray drops of jizz into her mouth. God, she was cute.

“Wait here, I’ll get you a towel or something,” I suggested.

“That’s OK. Just hand me my drink,” she replied. She took a bit and swirled it around her mouth and then swallowed. “Ahh, that did the trick. That stuff is so gooey I couldn’t get it all down! It’s got a real strange taste, too. Kinda salty, but sweet. There sure was a lot of it, wasn’t there, Joe?”

“There sure was, honey,” I agreed as I smiled across at her. “You go get dressed and fixed up. We’ve got a plane to catch!”

“Holy crap, I forgot all about that,” she exclaimed holding a hand to her face. “We’re not gonna miss it are we?”

“Not if you hurry, babycakes. We have about fifteen minutes so we’d better haul ass.” Trish gathered up her clothes and scampered into the lavatory.

I stripped the bed and threw the linens in a hamper by the bathroom door. I pulled my clothes on after milking the last droplet of come from my penis and wiping it on the thick cocktail napkin under my drink. I gulped down the last of the vodka and cranberry, glad that a lot of ice had melted to water it down. Pulling on my pants I began laughing. What an extremely perverted act I had just pulled on this young lady, I told myself. Not that she didn’t want it and love it, mind you, but nonetheless it was something that a man with any kind of moral compass at all would be loathe to recall. I knew that personally, I’d always savor the memory of fucking this little tart, for the rest of my life.

She was out of the john with five minutes to spare. I ducked in and gave my hair a quick comb, after taking a leak and washing my hands. Wouldn’t do for them to smell like fresh peach-fish. Not the kind of aroma one usually finds wafting around the First Class cabin of a 747. We hurried out the Crowne Room after receiving hard stares from the receptionist.

“I’ve been announcing this flight for the last twenty minutes, Mr. Sunderland. I hope you and Miss Berke had a nice nap!”

“Actually, Miss Hawkins,” I rejoined, reading her name off her badge, “I was quite ill and stuck in the lavatory the entire time. Fortunately, I’m feeling much better now.”

“I had a wonderful nap,” Tricia chirped. “I dreamed about riding my Shetland pony back home!” she giggled with a naughty smirk.

I just stood there trying not to burst out laughing.

With a toss of her hair and an impish grin on her face she spun and took me by the arm. “Come on Uncle Dave, let’s split this joint.”

We were the last ones to board the plane, and I forced the flight attendant to move someone’s gear from our overhead bin, since that person was further back in Coach. Tough shit to be a nobody, isn’t it? I ordered a straight cranberry juice for Trish, and a coffee for myself. Once we were settled in she whispered that it felt like she was sitting on a tennis ball.

“That’s what you get for riding your pony right up until flight time”, I scolded her.

She giggled, and then fell fast asleep leaning against me. When she shifted over against the window I stood and opened the overhead. Digging through a side pocket of her duffle I found her ID. It was a driver’s license, issued by the Sacramento office of the state of California. Studying the picture I came to the conclusion that I was in the company of a world class con man. Or woman, I suppose I should say. The photo on the driver’s license carried a resemblance to the person I was sitting with, but not much of one. The height and hair color were a match, and I guess I’d be fooled if I didn’t look too closely. Who’s not going to trust a sweet little thing like her, anyway? But this girl Tricia in the photo was definitely not the girl sitting next to me.

I dug deeper into the pocket of her pack and found another photo ID, this issued by a school in Florida. By golly, we have a match! Carrie Johnson, nineteen years old, graduated from Cypress Creek High School the previous year.

I put it back and went into the forward lav. I studied my face in the mirror, suddenly feeling much older than thirty-two. I shrugged once, and then shrugged again, then grinned at my reflection. God, I can be such a dumbass when I catch a whiff of sweet, young pussy.

This little mink had me buffaloed coming and going. She was traveling on someone else’s ID, probably a friend’s. She was legal, thank God. And I guess that’s gonna have to be good enough for me.

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