A journey

Work often requires me to travel, and flying is always an unavoidable part of the journey. However, running into acquaintances on a plane is quite rare.
That day, I took a very early flight, arriving at the airport around 7 a.m. Just as I got off the plane, I was surprised to see her getting off another vehicle. She was married; her husband lived in another city (the city I was heading to), and she worked in this city. Our relationship was... well, we were friends, though we'd had (quite a few) intimate encounters; we were bed partners, though we occasionally met for meals and chats, or helped each other with small matters in life and work—our relationship wasn't limited to sex; we were lovers, though our meetings were neither frequent nor regular…
Anyway, seeing her in such a large and crowded airport was a pleasant surprise. I warmly greeted her, which startled her a bit. It turned out she was on the same flight as me, heading back to that city for business. Having a beautiful companion made the journey less boring, so I was naturally happy.
We chatted as we boarded the plane. She sat by the window, and I sat by the aisle. Across the aisle stood two Taoist priests in robes, one of whom had a beard but looked anything but ethereal; in fact, he was rather sleazy.
She asked the flight attendant for a blanket as soon as she boarded, clearly having slept poorly the night before and planning to catch up on sleep on the plane. I'd only slept two or three hours myself, and I was also tired. Besides, with a nearly three-hour journey, what else was there to do but sleep? Reading would be boring. So I asked for a blanket too.
After the in-flight meal, she seemed tired, covered herself with the blanket (and even used hers to cover me a bit), closed her eyes, and leaned against the window. She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, but she was quite pretty and had a pleasing appearance. Sometimes her smile was particularly innocent. She was charming just like that.
The plane lights were dimmed, which was considerate of people catching early flights. My hand was already on her leg, relaxed and natural, and she didn't seem to mind at all. There were no acquaintances on the plane, and besides, my hand was under the blanket, so there was nothing to be bothered about.
Although I was quite sleepy, perhaps because I hadn't seen her in a long time, I was somewhat excited, and my hand on her leg started to wander. At first, I just stroked her thigh with my whole palm, but later I used my fingertips to lightly trace her curves, and I moved further and further towards the inside of her thigh. I knew she was sensitive, and I knew my actions were effective in arousing her. However, she remained asleep by the window. Was she indifferent or deliberately enduring? But at least, she didn't seem to be rejecting me. My hand kept moving, and she slightly adjusted her posture, her tightly closed legs parting slightly under the blanket, allowing my hand to get closer to her soft, warm center. Was this a signal to continue? At least that's what I thought, so my hand followed. Still using my fingertips, I explored the inside of her legs and the area where her thighs met, which was tightly covered by her pants, occasionally adding a little pressure to certain areas. The feel was plump and soft. This made me no longer satisfied with just my fingertips, and I placed my entire palm on her lower abdomen... and further down to her full, rounded area.
I knew my palms were always warm, and I knew this extra warmth would give her sensitive areas extra care. But I didn't want to give her just that; I wanted to make her more comfortable.
My palm remained there, without much movement, only my middle finger subtly conveying rhythm and cadence. No rush, we have plenty of time. I looked at her closed eyes, at her serene face, hoping to discern the undercurrents within her through my own eyes. On the surface, nothing was apparent, except that her breathing was no longer as calm and long as before.
She slowly shifted her position, no longer leaning against the window, but softly resting on my shoulder. One hand also wrapped around my arm. Her eyes remained closed, letting me hear her slightly bewildered breathing. This was just the beginning, and the increasing dampness I felt in my palm indicated that it was just the beginning.
My middle finger continued its rhythmic movement, adding new rhythms to it. It was hard to say exactly what changes my actions had caused in her love nest, only that my hand felt increasingly warm, soft, and moist.
I removed my palm, and she stirred slightly. Still not enough? Don't worry, it won't stop here. My hand moved to her waistband. Heh, there was a belt on her casual pants after all. No problem, I'll "untie" it for you. After all, it takes a little effort to use only one hand, but it won't take too long. The "tie" is loosened, and the zipper is no problem either. My hand sank down along her soft, smooth belly skin, slipping into her small panties. I touched the soft pubic hair, and a little further, my fingertips touched the edge of that warm, moist place, feeling the increasingly intense dampness, and that peanut-like protrusion. However, at this angle and in this position, my hand seemed to have reached its limit, unable to go any further. Okay then, let me try a silent version of "Open Sesame".
Still my middle finger, it circled around that peanut-like protrusion, occasionally lightly touching it, then moving away, then touching it again, then moving away again. My whole hand was also exploring downwards with force. Each time I gently knocked on the door, her body trembled slightly, and her breathing became more rapid. She understood my "open sesame," slightly raising her hips, and her previously tight pants suddenly loosened. Taking advantage of this, my hand finally reached its destination: her paradise. My middle finger

was perfectly positioned on her vulva, my index and ring fingers pressed against her lips, the fleshy pad at the base of my middle finger against her clitoris. Hehe, this little girl was already overflowing with desire. Wait, will anyone notice our "strange movements"? I turned to look at the Taoist priests across the aisle; they were chatting and didn't seem to be paying attention. That's good. Apart from those directly watching us from the side, the people in front and behind should be able to ignore us. After all, we're both quite "quiet," so we won't disturb them.
As I breathed a sigh of relief and adjusted my position to make my rock-hard member a little more comfortable, she also sighed softly. I know, baby, don't rush. The prelude had begun; now I would play the true melody with my fingers.
I turned my head, pressing my ear to her nose, feeling her moist, erratic breath. My free hand gently stroked her face; she looked utterly captivating at that moment.
Don't wait too long. My middle finger, slightly bent and twitching, easily slipped into her honeyed depths. She sighed softly again, this time her breath a little longer and heavier. Yes, she had always been a sensitive and juicy woman. Just a single finger swirling and circling inside, and slowly, I could feel a little muddy on my fingertip. From slow to fast, the sensation became increasingly slippery. Her breathing became rapid, and the hand around my arm tightened. Further in, my finger explored along the front wall of her honeyed depths, stopping at a small, slightly hard, raised fold—this must be one of the sources of her pleasure. I increased the pressure, pressed down, and released… Her breathing seemed to match my rhythm, but a few soft moans were mixed in with it. Yes, the key is the rhythm and the movement. In between focusing on that small area, I would occasionally sweep across the entire inner wall; or thrust in and out, followed by a strong jolt of my entire palm. My palm was already wet, very wet. Her breathing became rapid and intense. But her moans remained faint, almost inaudible. I knew that one middle finger couldn't fill you up, and this range of thrusting wouldn't be enough to drive you wild, but baby, I know what's important. You also know that I've tasted these very spots of yours many times with my lips and tongue.
I nestled my thumb under my middle finger, directly facing another source of pleasure—the clitoris. The clitoris was now clearly erect, obviously waiting to be soothed.
My index and ring fingers rubbed against my lips, my middle finger stirred and kneaded inside, and my thumb rubbed and squeezed the clitoris. Alternating. Her body trembled with these alternations. I could almost hear the beautiful, gurgling sounds coming from below. Yes, this is the rhythm and cadence I want; this is the foundation and soul of Yuequ.
Her arms tightened around mine, her other hand gripping my upper arm. Her breathing and moans grew heavier and more rapid, yet she still tried to suppress them. My palm vibrated rapidly once more, my thumb pressing firmly on her clitoris, my middle finger digging into the inner wall. Her legs involuntarily tightened; rather, her entire body tensed. Her upper body pressed against me, her full, firm breasts squeezing my arm, her hands now pinching rather than grabbing my upper arm.
The small but rhythmic vibrations were making my hands cramp, but how could I stop now? I wanted my darling to float to the clouds. No, we're already in the clouds on this plane, so I'll make you fly even higher, float away...
Again and again, her body trembled violently several times, her hand gripping my arm tightening with each tremor. A soft moan escaped her lips, and her legs, which had been tightly pressed together, slowly loosened after several strong spasms. The trembling continued, but her body was no longer so tense, and her breathing gradually calmed. My hands slowed, soothing her afterward.
"Is it comfortable?" I whispered in her ear. She didn't answer, burying her head in my chest as if tickling, then nodded very slightly but firmly, and casually scratched my hard penis a few times. At this moment, she was completely different from the cheerful and carefree girl she had been chatting in the waiting room; she was as soft as a pool of warm water.
My hand lingered for a few moments before reluctantly withdrawing from that place overflowing with sweetness, and I zipped up her pants. I adjusted my posture, my groin throbbing uncomfortably, but I had no choice but to let it be. Then I glanced at the Taoist priest across the aisle. They both seemed to be asleep, but why did their position so close to me seem a little unnatural? Had he noticed something? Had he been eavesdropping? Whatever, we were under the blanket the whole time.
I shifted her body, making her more comfortable against me, and we both quickly fell asleep.

Aftermath: After the plane landed, her husband came to pick her up. I hitched a ride back to the city with him. In the car, I chatted with her husband, feeling guilty, thinking about how my fingers still carried her fluids. I held my hand up and smelled it; there was a faint scent of her secret fragrance…

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A journey

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