Story by tammylc
We meet in the airport in Detroit. We’re flying somewhere together and
you’ve managed a stopover in Detroit so that we can be on the same
plane. A half hour before your flight is due to arrive, I go into the
bathroom and remove the dildo from my bag. I slide it into my cunt and
pull up snug black jeans to hold it into place. I’m wearing a red
button down shirt, and the lacy edges of a black bra peek out at the
v-neck. The black pants and the red shirt are nicely matched by the
red-bottomed pumps on my feet. As instructed, I begin the long walk
from the end of the terminal where I am to the far end, where your plane
will be landing. I remember what you told me - “No tram. No moving
sidewalks. Just you, walking the entire length of the terminal, while
that dildo torments your slut cunt.”
I’ve only passed a couple of gates, and my cunt is already dripping. My
breath is quickening. I look down the terminal - my destination is
still far out of sight - and I wonder if I should regret ever having
told you about this that first time, that first day I walked around like
a slut, with a cock in my cunt.
As I walk, the sensation builds, my cunt juice continue to flow. I try
to distract myself from the growing heat in my pussy. I think about the
time that you tied me face down on the bed, wrists and ankles cuffed to
the posts at the corner, and spanked me until my ass was as bright as
the fuck-me red on the bottom of these shoes, and even with the gag in
my mouth my screams threatened to wake the neighbors. I’d been bad that
time - disobeyed you, and needed to be punished. This time I wouldn’t
make that mistake - I was being sure to follow every instruction to the
letter.
My cunt pulsed in time to my steps, and I looked up at the signs
overhead. Gate 15. Only 60 more to go. Oh god.
Gate by gate, I walk along the terminal. I look into the shops as I
pass, looking for clothing that you might find appealing, or some
implement of pleasure or pain hiding in plain sight. Every time my
breath starts to come too quickly and I fear I might come, I remember
the consequences, remember what it’s like to have my cunt slapped, my
nipples clamped, or to be forced to urinate down my bound legs when you
wouldn’t let me get up or release them so that I could go to the
bathroom. I blush hard at that last memory, ashamed that I could be so
disobedient that you would have to punish me so harshly.
At last, long last, I get to your gate. Just in time, too - the plane
has just taxied up to the gate, and it won’t be long until the
passengers start to unload. My cell phone beeps. “Are you ready? Are
you wet and open and ready for me?” reads the text message. Hands
shaking, legs weak with desire, pussy pulsing relentlessly, I SMS three
letters back - yes.
And then the door opens, and there you are. You see me, standing in
front of the gate, trying not to make it obvious that I have a dildo
inside of me, that I’ve been on the edge of coming for a half hour, and
wet for days, that I’m on fire. Without stopping for a kiss or an
embrace, you grab my hand and tell me follow you. You pull me into one
of the private “family” bathrooms, lock the door, and bend me over the
sink. You pull my pants and underwear down to my ankles, and I step out
of them, pausing for just a moment to put my shoes back on. Then you
pull the dildo out of my cunt, and throw it god knows where in the
bathroom, and your cock slides into the wet, dripping space it has left.
You drive into me, hard, and my moans get so loud you need to clamp a
hand over my mouth. A few more thrusts, and I feel your cock spasm and
your semen fills my cunt. And then I’m empty again, as you pull out.
Your hands forcefully turn around, then push me down on my knees, where
I clean the mixture of your cum and my cunt juice off your cock. You step away and pull up your pants.
“Hurry up and get dressed, slut - we have a plane to catch.”
