Black Lace Quickies 9 Page 7

  ‘Can I get you anything else, sir?’ His perusal of her was both exciting and excruciating because Natalie knew in a flash what he was thinking, even before his eyes plunged into the gap between her dainty neck scarf and the V-shape of her fitted blouse. It was a leading question but one that had been drummed into her during the intensive weeks of training. She had asked it a hundred times already during the flight.

  ‘Let me think,’ he replied, his words now distinctly stretched by alcohol. Natalie waited patiently, although feeling more uncomfortable from the way his eyes soaked up her body at close range. ‘A bed would be nice.’

  Thankful for a reason to break the palpable tension between them, Natalie reached up to the overhead locker and retrieved yet another lavender-scented pillow and blanket. ‘Your seat reclines almost horizontally. Here, just pull on this and push back hard.’ Natalie immediately wanted to clap her hand to her mouth and scuttle off to the safety of the galley. She felt like a silly schoolgirl.

  ‘It’s been a while since anyone so delightful has said anything like that to me,’ the man quipped predictably but he did as instructed and was soon lying on his back while Natalie dutifully arranged the blanket. ‘Should I get undressed?’

  ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary, sir. Once you get to sleep you’ll find that we’ll be in Sydney in virtually no time at all. I’ll wake you when it’s time for breakfast.’

  ‘I’m surely in heaven,’ he confessed, taking another sip of the Scotch, ‘being tended to by an angel.’ Natalie detected the faintest trace of an Irish accent in his voice, creating an arousing concoction as semi-coherent words drizzled from his mouth. ‘Shame you can’t climb in beside . . .’ The passenger’s head finally succumbed to the weight of tiredness and drink and Natalie plucked the glass from his hand and placed it on the table.

  ‘That would be quite against company rules, sir,’ she whispered as she walked away. A little part of her believed that he had spoken out of turn but – and she tried to deny this – a much larger part of her knew that she would have adored to duck under the blanket with him.

  Half an hour later, Natalie left the first-class deck for her break. She entered the crew’s tiny cabin, thankful that no one else was there, and clicked the door closed, then dropped down exhausted on the foldaway bunk. She could smell the remains of Angela’s break – coffee mingled with reheated pasta and chicken from the economy galley. But there was something else noticeable, a tang that hadn’t yet been extracted by the air conditioning. It was as if the walls, the oval window looking down upon the blackened earth, the bedding and even the food that had been left out for her were all drenched in it. An unfamiliar part of Angela had seeped out of her and condensed for subsequent crew to find and enjoy.

  Natalie kicked off her shoes and lay back on the bunk. A chill drove through her body so she pulled the plain grey blanket over her and at once the smell intensified as if a whole bottle of it had been shaken out on the bed. It was the musk of Arabia, the scent of sun-kissed skin, the deep saltiness of the ocean thousands of feet beneath all blended to a frenzy with one unmistakable aroma. Natalie pressed the blanket to her face to confirm, then rolled over and breathed in the soft pillow. She trailed her fingers across the cool, slightly damp porthole and drew in what she already knew. Angela had just had sex in the cabin, either on her own or with another crew member. She smiled to herself and began to unbutton her blouse. There was just enough time and she was so tired that half an hour of sleep would never be enough. Already semi-aroused, she needed a sure-fire way to kick-start her energy levels to get her through to Sydney.

  Natalie hitched up her slim red skirt and drove a finger behind her stocking top, easing it down her thigh. She began to work on the other leg but stopped as something unfamiliar caught on her hand. Rolling aside, Natalie retrieved a piece of soft and delicate fabric from under the blanket and could only assume, when she saw them, that the tiny black panties were a gift from Angela. Or a careless mistake, perhaps, at the end of a rushed and passionate tryst.

  Either way Natalie smiled, now feeling as boozy as the man she had recently tended to in first class, especially when she recalled the way he had peered down her cleavage. She slipped off her blouse and released her bra, her tawny nipples waking suddenly from the jet of cold air from above. Natalie knelt on the bunk and stared out of the oval window at the world below. There was nothing much to see in the complete blackness, no one to witness her naked breast pushing against the cold window or her wetted finger circling a nipple that had begged to be touched since the flight began. Natalie’s mind wandered back to the cockpit and Captain Wilkinson’s hard jawline and tanned neck slipping comfortably beneath his starched white collar. In her current dishevelled state, she wondered what he would think if he saw her smart Voyage-Air skirt hitched up around her waist and her blouse thrown crumpled onto the floor.

  ‘He’d have to tell me off,’ she whispered to herself, fogging the glass. ‘I definitely deserve a punishment for being so naughty while on duty.’ Natalie giggled at the madness of it all. Here she was, about to bring herself to a frenzied orgasm at thirty-five thousand feet above Indonesia and she was fantasising about what Captain Wilkinson would do to her. She was also quite unable to rid her mind of the unusually handsome passenger in first class and, staring out into the void below, she allowed her imagination to dive beneath the satin-edged blanket covering him to see just what was under there.

  Natalie reached for Angela’s lacy panties and brought them to her face. Animal instinct told her that she needed to know more and, by breathing them in, she would be allowing the cool, crisp and elegant Angela to affect her body. She touched the delicate fabric lightly on her nose and drew in the undiluted musk that she had first noticed filling the room. Angela was a powerful woman and had a strong scent nestling between her legs. Natalie took a closer look. The tiny crotch was lined with a single silver streak that glistened in the overhead light. It was the source of the aroma; a marker of Angela’s recent antics and proof that she too was filled with the same desires that working in such a close environment aroused. Natalie allowed her tongue to pass between her lips and glide over the honey spread on the panties. She closed her eyes and imagined that Angela’s long, lean body was pressed on top of her with the sweet source of this heavenly taste smothering her mouth. So evocative was the single lick, so druglike in its effect that Natalie wanted more and more of Angela’s juices. She traced her tongue along the silver streak again and eased her finger inside her own lace knickers and wondered if Angela’s pussy felt anything like hers.

  Forgetting the world below, Natalie dropped back onto the bunk. Wearing nothing on top but her neck scarf and scarlet hat, which had now lost its neat hold on her hair, she took off her knickers and slipped both ankles into Angela’s little black panties. She pulled them up to her knees and circled her wet lips to get a dose of her own juice to spread with Angela’s. The cabin door opened.

  ‘So sorry to crash in on you like this but the captain’s coming and –’

  The two women locked eyes and in the same beat knew exactly what the other was thinking. Angela continued flawlessly, with only a small swallow to conceal shock or delight, and slid into the bunk room clicking the door shut behind her. In the same space of time, Natalie had quickly risen from the bed and pulled up Angela’s panties as if they were her own. She already had her blouse over her shoulders.

  ‘– and he’s bringing his cousin for a tour of the aircraft. Better get shipshape, eh?’ Angela offered a slow wink before turning her back and allowing Natalie to finish dressing. She was perfectly calm and professional, as if she was dealing with a nuisance passenger.

  ‘I just needed to . . .’ Natalie stammered. Her cheeks flushed to match the jacket that she was now fastening and her legs trembled as she pushed her feet back into her shoes. ‘It’s not like you think, really . . .’ Words were useless, Natalie realised as she struggled with her hat and unruly hair in the mirror.

 
‘Here, let me help.’ Angela trailed her fingers up Natalie’s neck and pinned several loose strands in place. She leaned forwards, her mouth a whisper away from Natalie’s ear, the firmness of her breasts nudging the other woman’s back. ‘It’s OK. I understand.’

  Again, the door opened and Captain Wilkinson and his cousin stood shoulder to shoulder in the narrow aisle. ‘And this is where the crew take their breaks.’ The captain loomed in the doorway, his sharp eyes quickly assessing the situation. ‘Angela, what are you doing in here? Return to the upper deck immediately.’ Angela nodded and slid between the two men. Natalie was left imprisoned in the cabin.

  ‘I was just taking my break, sir.’ Natalie finally had her uniform back in order and stared at the captain, fighting hard to keep her eyes off the other man – the man she had recently served with Scotch. Captain Wilkinson’s eyes trawled around the small space behind her, lingering particularly on the dishevelled bunk. The thought that she had left her own underwear visible sent shock waves through Natalie. She thought she might be sick and cursed herself for such lack of control.

  ‘It’s important that you stay refreshed on such a long haul.’ The captain’s words were clipped and disjointed, as if something else was occupying his immediate thoughts. He turned to his cousin. ‘Would you like to take a closer look?’ The captain glanced back down the aisle and then pushed up the gold-edged cuff of his jacket and looked at his watch.

  ‘You know I’m fascinated by aircraft, Jim.’ The Irish accent drawled long and slow, the words pouring over Natalie like his gaze. ‘I’d be delighted to take a closer look.’ The man steadied himself against the bulkhead and pushed his fingers through his long tousled hair. Natalie was reminded of a rock singer and fought to keep her eyes fixed on the captain.

  ‘In that case,’ she said, quite unable to understand their interest in the crew quarters, ‘I’ll get back to work and leave you two to your tour.’ She made to slide between the men, as Angela had done, but was met with the captain’s upheld hands.

  ‘You misunderstand,’ he said, gently nudging Natalie back into the tiny space. ‘It’s you we want to take a closer look at.’

  Before she could grasp what was happening, Natalie found herself pressed against the cabin wall and her senses overloaded with fear, adrenalin, the tang of expensive cologne, freshly laundered clothing and, of course, the pungent whisky. Desperate to regain control of the situation, Natalie squeezed away from her captive position and began to laugh.

  ‘I get it,’ she said, barely able to speak. ‘This is that silly initiation thing you told me about in the cockpit, right?’

  ‘She’s a bright one, don’t you think, Carl?’ To Natalie’s horror, the captain was unbuttoning his jacket. ‘And how rude of me not to make introductions. Carl, this is my beautiful new stewardess, Natalie Beauman. Natalie, say hello to Carl. He’s my cousin and on his way back home to Sydney.’ Captain Wilkinson waited while the two acknowledged each other.

  ‘I’ve already had the pleasure, Jim. She’s been an angel and only recently tucked me into bed.’ Carl watched Natalie as he spoke, desperate to measure her reaction. There was nothing except for a tiny ripple in her throat as she swallowed.

  ‘Yes, Carl has been keeping me busy with the drinks trolley.’ Natalie opted for a light-hearted grab at freedom. She followed her comment with a lunge at the door. ‘Aren’t I initiated yet?’ she asked stupidly. Instinct told her that they hadn’t even begun. Natalie’s heart pounded against her ribs, fuelled by adrenalin that raced to every part of her already aroused body.

  ‘Like I told you, I get to know all of my crew personally. I find it helps working relationships hum along.’ The captain had already removed his jacket and made a point of hanging it carefully on the back of the door. He broke the knot of his tie with one hand and unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. ‘I wasn’t going to initiate you until we arrived in Sydney but Angela has been telling me how delightful you are and I simply couldn’t wait.’

  Natalie was stunned. She could only assume that the captain was about to force himself upon her, right here in front of his cousin. Again, that swell of nausea gripped her body, which mutated into yet another wave of anticipation. Her nipples still prickled beneath her bra from having tasted Angela so intimately without her knowledge and when she remembered that she was wearing the other woman’s panties, she let out a little gasp that the captain obviously interpreted as one of compliance. He approached Natalie and drew a line from the tip of her nose, down across her left breast, over the gentle curve of her stomach, coming to rest between her thighs.

  ‘Would you please remove your jacket, Miss Beauman, and unfasten your blouse.’

  ‘Captain’s orders?’ she whispered, her voice stilted by the sensations building within Angela’s lace knickers. Captain Wilkinson nodded and stepped back so that both men could see clearly while, with trembling fingers, Natalie did as she was instructed.

  It occurred to her that if she didn’t comply, she might never be promoted or at worst she could lose her job. When she had finished, the captain approached her and ran both hands down the exposed skin of her breasts. He pushed his face between Natalie’s full curves and bit gently on the pale flesh nestled within her bra. Impatient for more, he removed her blouse and unhooked her bra, allowing both to fall to the floor with none of the respect he had shown his own uniform. At close range, he eyed Natalie’s young breasts and took one nipple and then the other in his mouth, teasing them relentlessly into whipped peaks.

  ‘Whoa, this is one hell of a tour,’ Carl said, having to steady himself on the bunk. Natalie caught his eye but her vision was blurred, as if all her senses had been diverted to focus on the pleasure in her nipples. She was now quite unable to protest, even if she had wanted to.

  ‘What were you and Angela doing in here before we interrupted you?’ The captain stood upright and towered above Natalie. Before she could answer, he plunged his mouth onto hers and cupped the slightly askew chignon at the back of her head in his palms. ‘Were you up to no good?’

  Natalie gasped for air. ‘No, I was just on my break and –’

  ‘Did you touch her?’

  Natalie was going to object but could see that was futile. The captain believed what he wanted and Natalie’s job, as a loyal crew member, was to oblige.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ She hung her head.

  ‘I can smell that you did. I can smell sex in here. The whole cabin reeks of it, you dirty little girl. I’ll see to it that Angela gets punished later. But first, I have to deal with you.’

  Before she knew what was happening, Natalie felt her brand-new Voyage-Air skirt being torn from her waist. The captain had turned into a hungry wolf as the lacerated cloth was tossed aside. He clawed at her back, then swung her around and deposited her on the small bunk. The jet of air conditioning blasted on her semi-naked body, littering her skin with tiny goosebumps, which the captain took delight in licking away. Beside her, Natalie heard the impatient growl of Carl and the occasional exclamation of disbelief at what he was witnessing.

  James Wilkinson knelt above his prey and surveyed the flesh beneath him. He took a quick glance out of the window, perhaps gaining a visual check on altitude, before trailing a finger around the rim of the lace panties. He frowned and rubbed the gossamer-thin satin.

  ‘I didn’t know there were underwear regulations too,’ he said. ‘You girls all wear the same knickers?’ He glanced at Carl, who had now slumped to the floor and was visually massaging Natalie from head to toe. ‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’ he said before tearing the lace panties from Natalie’s hips. ‘So beautiful that I’m going to have to eat you from the inside out. But you keep quiet. We don’t want to be disturbed.’

  Natalie nodded obediently and arched her back involuntarily as the captain firmly drove a finger against her moist sex and then planted it on her lips, as if to seal her silence. She allowed her tongue a taste of her own juice, just to see if there was anything of Angela remai
ning. Natalie smiled and moaned as her neatly shaved pussy was nibbled and lapped at by the tongue of authority. The captain hoisted her legs up onto his shoulders allowing Carl a brief view of her entire sex, from the tight pink circle of her arse up to the sweetlike nub bursting from between her lips. Over and over, James drove his tongue in and around her engorged flesh, one minute hanging her on the edge of an orgasm and the next dropping her into a cataclysm of near pain as he bit and scratched at her buttocks.

  ‘You taste so different to Angela,’ he said, pausing to tease her nipples again. ‘If Angela’s a spicy Thai dish then you’re a bowl of strawberries and cream. Do you like Thai food, Carl?’ he asked, laughing and looking at his nearly passed-out cousin. ‘I bet you’d love to share a hot and sour dish with me when we reach the hotel, wouldn’t you, Miss Beauman?’

  ‘Oh yes, captain,’ Natalie replied, breathless at what he was going to do next.

  ‘And you’d offer us dessert?’

  Natalie moaned and lowered her hands to the captain’s groin to indicate her reply. The size of his cock, buried within his neatly pressed black trousers, confirmed just how hungry he was. She unzipped him and lowered his clothing to reveal his erection but before she could do anything else, James had it in front of her face.

  ‘What do you smell?’ he asked.

  Natalie took her time and traced her tongue around the head of the captain’s cock. It took only seconds to discover the scent of Angela buttered all over him, that exotic tang which she secreted between her legs. Natalie grinned and began to take him in her mouth. Inch by inch she buried the captain of the 747–400 down her soft throat and ate up every trace of the elegant Angela. When it was all gone, consolation was that she knew there was more waiting for her when they arrived in Sydney.