Outstripped (9 page)

"I've
an itch," she said through pouting red lips. "Can you just..."
she wriggled some more.

"Where
is it?" he asked realizing he had just been given approval to get his
hands on her.

"My
leg… right leg…
 
no… round… in… that's
it."

'First'
looked up at Jody past the coffee pot, the cups and the overhang of her breasts
to see her biting her lip delicately in her best coy and 'come on' way. She
raised her eyebrow and shuffled a little as his fingers moved higher, then all
the way up to her 'giggle band' (the exposed thigh between stocking tops and
underwear). Jody was enjoying her little act, her little bit of almost public
naughtiness.

"Just
a little bit… left… up… there… just there… and… yes… there... ooh!"

It could
have been phone sex but this was
hands
on alleged
scratching. 'First' had his fingers on some fine, young, firm, but baby smooth,
inner thigh
to die for.
He needed to
know where this was going, coz clearly they couldn't do much here, could they?

Jody
smiled down at him then softly said "Trap three, fifteen minutes,
precisely" and handed him the mugs to place on the engineer’s desk top.

He conveniently
returned a moment later, as she poured them all some coffee. She left them with
the pot, edged her way past the engineer and departed the flight deck in a very
buoyant mood. Just before the door closed, she heard a voice say "Lucky
bastard!" She presumed it was the Captain.

Twelve
minutes and twenty-four seconds later Jody made her excuses and headed for
'trap three'. The toilet was busy and she thought for a moment her plans were
about to be shattered. But no! The sound of flushing brought her smile back and
the door duly opened not a moment too soon.

Jody
gathered herself inside checking clothes, hair, makeup and everything in the
mirrors, even though there was no time to make amends anyway.

"These
are a great deal roomier than the ones at the back," she thought,
"and a damn site cleaner!"

There
was a mouse-like knock on the door. Jody's heart began pounding as the
anticipation of her imminent 'mile high' membership sent her excitement levels
skyward. She unlocked the door and tried to stand out of view of anyone else
outside, just in case.

In came
her suitor, resplendent in black, with stripes, and a dirty big grin. Jody
returned the smile then lunged at him. Her arms came up and took him by the
back of his head as she tried to devour his lips 'in one'. In an instance it
was frantic, it was ravaging, it was hunger, it was need, it was
uncontrollable. Not a word had been spoken, they hadn't even exchanged names,
but the untamed and unleashed passion was running rampantly high in Jody's
pants and she could already feel his was too.

A little
more tongue wrestling and lip nibbling, some groping and grinding and they
separated. There was a moment’s pause then Jody started clawing at the front of
his trousers. As she began fighting for his weapon he grappled with her skirt,
needing his nails to ruffle it up at the sides. Things were urgent, things were
hard, this was too slow,
they
were in each other's
way.

'First'
stood up straight. He stopped Jody's rummaging around his crotch, put her hands
by her side and spun her around. As he completed the 'oh so fantastic task' of
rucking up her skirt to reveal a bottom sent from heaven, Jody turned her head
round and gazed at him with her mouth open. He gripped the front of her thigh
with his left hand and pushed her in the back with his right. She went over
easy, hands on the toilet, arching as she did. He then kicked at the inside of
her shoes and she obliged by opening her legs like a traffic violator he'd just
pulled over.

'First' discarded
his jacket, finished unbuckling his belt and dropped his kit like a quick draw
gunslinger. He was tall, which was handy, as her long legs and heels, though a
perfect picture, could pose a problem for the less statured in this sort of
situation. The only thing stopping the eagerly anticipated and mutually
intended frantic 'fucking-out' of each
others
brains
now was a delicate cotton gusset.

'First'
decided to manage the urgency of their situation with just the right
understanding and dedication to the cause.

He
ripped off Jody's knickers in a single manoeuvre of incredible dexterity and
strength and she yelped. Spitting in his hand he roughly and unnecessarily, as
it turned out, rubbed her dripping wet pussy before attending likewise to his
cock. Without waiting any longer, in he plunged. Hard, hurried and up to the
hilt. Jody yelped again at the surprise, the thrust and the depth.

They
savoured each other for a moment then the bucking started.

He
thrust at her,

She
pushed at him,

He
plugged her hard,

She
squeezed him harder.

Faster,
harder, harder again, in, out, in, out, there was no real rhythm just animal
instinct and wanton selfishness from the pair of them.

The pure
unadulterated personal pleasure lasted for a respectable few minutes, and it
was
good
, earth shattering, sinful
even. 'First' was clearly no beginner.

Then
came 'the vinegar strokes', the fire and brimstone, grinning and squinting,
pummeling, grinding, and shuddering all the way to the finish. He had 'all hell
on' holding back from shouting the house down as he emptied himself deep into
Jody.

A calm,
serene, holding pattern ensued.

'First'
was exhausted. Elated. Triumphant. Satisfied.

Jody was
in her element. Ecstatic. Quivering. Tingling all over. She'd been 'had',
'taken',
'dealt
to'. No orgasm but trembling legs all
the same,
and
what a ride!

In time
they eased apart, and 'First' had a proper opportunity to admire the spoils of
his encounter, Jody's proud, athletic and now rosy-cheeked rump. He cupped each
of her buttocks in a warm and appreciative gesture then gave her a light slap
for good measure before getting back to reality. A little mopping up was
required before attending to appearances and finally rejoining the rest of the
flying squad amid sniggering,
piss-taking
and
jealousy.

"You
can't keep anything quiet round here," Jody said in passing to Yasmin, but
it didn't really bother her in the slightest.

Disembarking
the plane was an interesting affair upon arrival at Miami International.
Lots of nudges and winks and mutterings between the whole crew.
There was 'something' in the air tonight, maybe Phil Collins, maybe something
else. Jody's little incident had set up a special mood for this U.S. stop over
and the
free-lovin
' she'd initiated at twenty nine
thousand feet could be just the beginning. They could almost taste it.

The
troop marched through the airport in orderly fashion with their pristine
uniforms and their Swiss finishing school gate and deportment.
Ambassadors for their airline.
If only the general public
knew the truth.

The
usual pre-arranged mini-vans collected them and whisked them away to their
Ocean Drive hotel at Miami Beach. As the very informative signs overhead
instructed everyone that Dolphin Expressway had now morphed into MacArthur
Causeway, Jody's thoughts inadvertently turned to discos, Donna Summer and
cakes left out in the rain, for some strange reason. This was a road, not a
park. Her attention was then grabbed by the incredible, peripheral-filling
vista to her right of Dodge Island and the enormous cruise ships lit up like
floating cities.

"I'll
be on one of those soon," she said to Yasmin sitting beside her.
"Have you ever been cruising?"

"Only
round bars and nightclubs," Yasmin retorted in her best irreverent tone.

"Well'
the night is yet young," said Jody.

They'd
actually just worked through the night and should, by rights, be absolutely
knackered, but it was only 10pm and, as mentioned, the mood was ripe for a
party, or clubbing, or something of a 'time to let your hair down' nature.

Taking
the initiative she turned round in her seat to face a van full and began
planning the evening.

"As
soon as we've checked in, just drop your gear off, we'll grab a drink in the
bar and then just see where we go from there."

It was a
short plan. More of a starting point really.

"You've
done this before, haven't you?" someone said sarcastically and
rhetorically, but in jest. Then collectively, as part of Jody's captive
audience, they decided not to miss out on the rest of the evening, but instead
to see where it may lead them and agreed to let the other van's inhabitants
know as soon as they arrived.

In true
American style, the hotel entrance was grandeur itself.
A
semi-circled entry for vehicles under an enormous archway.
Carpeted
steps, tinted glass, religiously polished brass everywhere and an army of
uniformed personnel. It’s expected, but always nice to be on the receiving end.
The foyer was cavernous but although it was busy (it was a popular place to
stay after all) it didn't feel full.

"Space,"
Jody thought to herself.

After
the usual rigmarole of hotel arrival they headed straight for the bar as
planned. Typically it was big, relatively packed, and noisy, but with the usual
lack of any real atmosphere. Before too long the drinks were flowing, guards
were down and they'd created, or rather rekindled, the mood from earlier. No
one was particularly interested in going out clubbing or anything and they
couldn't bear the thought of changing out of uniform now anyway.

Someone
suggested heading upstairs to continue their soiree, so off they went.
Noisy, happy, free-spirited and 'up for a laugh'.
'El
Capitan' had the largest suite so it was back to his'.

The lift
was a sardine-like affair, full of japes, jokes, jeering, and enough bodily
contact to kick start some major giggling. The alcohol was working wonders.

Once
ensconced in the 9th floor suite our 'ready made' party instantly made
themselves at home. It obviously wasn't made for thirteen people so it was
quite cozy. The contents of the mini-bar were pathetically inconsiderate for
this sort of melee, so room service was arranged and things got into full
swing.

They
were a capable bunch, arranging nibbles, drinks, music and everything a loud
and boisterous bunch could want. One or two of them quietly disappeared, in
time, as the sleep deprivation and alcohol cocktail got the better of them, but
most hung around, full of intrigue and anticipation. These sorts of
get-togethers have a habit of producing the unknown.
Action,
excitement, scandal, here-say and gossip, for which the early leavers always
regret their time of departure.

After
the second request to keep the noise down, this time by hotel staff, they
actually turned the music dial anti-clockwise and sat down to another mood
change.

"Spin
the bottle," was blurted out, closely followed by "Ooh, No, I know,
how about, er, 'Truth or Dare'?" which created a little 'mass hysteria' of
the cabin crew kind. They all decided to write two 'Dare' and two 'Truth'
questions each to go in a hat, and as chance would have it, they had one. Each!

As the
head of the organization committee formed the necessary boy-girl-boy-girl
circle it became apparent that these arrangements didn't quite work, as there
were far fewer guys than girls, but what the hell eh? Everyone made
themselves
comfortable and the drink poured forth.

For once
it wasn't Jody running the show. 'Truth or Dare', as we all know, is one of the
mainstay items on teenage girl's slumber party 'to do' lists and it was obvious
they all knew the game well. It was the guys who were a little unsure of what
comes next.

One of
the girls decided on a very interesting icebreaker.

"Let's
get this show on the road," she insisted. "Everyone in the room has
to have their skirts or trousers removed by the person on their left, but no
hands allowed. Anyone refusing has to sit in the corner blindfolded for the
next 15 minutes."

"Good
call," Jody thought. "I'm not the only feisty princess in town. Let
the games begin!"

And the
games began. There were a few hesitant participants but things quickly got
underway and it was 'all hands behind backs' for a very silly and highly funny
romp of belt buckle and button munching and some challenging oral dexterity.
The laughs and the howling were infectious. The kneeling, falling, biting,
wriggling and squirming were hilarious. A great many crotches and bottoms were
nosed, nuzzled and chewed and the aim of the game was complete. All early
inhibitions had been disposed of.

They'd
all just played their part in a parade of legs and underwear designed to shame
and expose, please and delight, not to mention, titillate. There were silk
boxers ('First'), y-fronts (the Engineer) and Daffy Duck cotton shorts on the Captain,
which caused
an uproar
. Then there were a host of
regulation cotton knickers (sensible but boring), Jody had misplaced hers earlier,
somehow, and had substituted a lacy pink thong with a little bow on the front.
There were some 'big girls pants' (embarrassing), one 'French' and one 'boy'
set of knickers and a couple of racy little things in particularly bright
colours. There were also some very attractive stockings, a few pairs of tights
(thankfully removed by their owners upon expose), but no leg warmers! Jody had
in fact removed her stockings at the airport as an uncharacteristically
sensible humidity precaution.