Noreen screwed her lips about the burning butt of the cigarette. She glanced aimlessly at the slices of human head popping up in front of her, above the backrests to the seats of the airplane cabin.
She then directed her gaze to her own fits, confirming the apparent thickness of the nipples visible through the thin material of her jersey. Noreen ran her hands over her haunch.
Feeling the applelike curves and crispness of her hips and ass.
"This bod is good stuff," Noreen muttered amidst a puff of smoke. "Just not the right stuff if you happen to be a gymnast."
She thought for another moment. Told herself all over again that in a sublime sense her life had not been crushed-she had, rather, been revived. Indeed, when one looked at it from this vantage, her natural athletic abilities had been in part a curse on the course her life.
Noreen had necessarily responded to that challenge within herself. For that dream, Noreen had made the required sacrifices in her social development-thus depriving her, as some of the adults would say over and over again, of her childhood, her youth.
Noreen had devoted most of her life thus far to achieving her gymnastics goals.
Now that dream was gone.
Forgotten.
"I was lucky," Noreen reflected to herself. "I guess I got off easy-I got away."
Now it was time for Noreen to reclaim her youth. To share in the fullness of life that had been denied to her.
And she would approach her new self with grit and determination. With the same abandon that had marked her athletic career.
Noreen crushed out her cigarette.
Lit up another fag.
Slugged down the rest of her drink.
"Shit!" Noreen realized. "Now I'm free. I don't have to get up early. Or watch my diet. I can fucking eat for a change."
A warm sense of freedom rinsed over Noreen.
Her neck and spine relaxed. She allowed a tingling to develop between her thighs. Enjoyed the reflexive buzz in her clit.
Late-night flight into New York City. Sparsely occupied seats in the dead of morning.
Calm.
The sense of being alone.
Noreen responded to the twinge between her hips.
Took hold of her cuntlips through her leggings. Winced as she twisted her clit.
Could she get away with a little frigging action right there in the seat?
Noreen reached to the empty seat beside her to fetch up the folded blanket.
She could wrap herself in it.
Curl up in her seat.
Cover her face.
Slip open her pants.
Lift her blouse.
Masturbate.
Not great.
But it would pass the time.
Keep her mind from other things.
Then Noreen's eyes jerked into focus.
The head hanging lazily off to the side two rows in front of Noreen moved.
She saw the ear stud in the left lobe glint.
Familiar?
Or was it just her imagination. Her fantasy taking over.
Did she know him?
The dark curly mop of hair on top. Slicked-back sides and short sideburns.
The dude rose into the aisles.
Looked about like a squirrel. Saw the vacant restroom up toward the front of the cabin.
"Shitfire," Noreen shmoozed through her lips. "Yeah. That's him. That guy."
As Noreen watched his ass twitch up toward the front of the cabin, she straightened up her sloppy clothing. Pulled her top tight over her tits.
Hitched up her elasticized slacks.
Checked her face out in the mirror of her compact makeup case.
Powdered her puss.
Applied a slick of lipgloss.
Fresh smile on display, Noreen watched and waited. Anxious she was, for the man to emerge from the restroom.
The door flared outward.
There was his head.
The smile peeled from her lips as she saw him walk with his head down.
He approached his seat.
Weaseled in.
Sat down.
"Shitfuckcunt," Noreen sneered under her breath. "Didn't even look up. Didn't even see me."
Then his head bobbed up.
Noreen's clit jumped.
He got out of his seat again.
Noreen's slit began to run in anticipation. Her throat went dry.
She saw the way he shimmied between the seats.
Stepped into the aisle. Checked for something in his front pockets.
Noreen felt her eyes glow.
Nipples tighten.
He shucked out a roll of bills from the front of his trousers. Counted the dough.
Shoved his hand back into his pants.
Noreen saw the bounce of his ballocks.
The tautness of his haunch.
Tasted in her imagination the tartness of his raunch.
She watched him as he glanced up and down the aisles with creased brow. As if looking for something-someone else.
He cocked his posture. Took two steps toward the back of the cabin.
His peepers drifted.
Scanned the other faces in the cabin-as males often did-looking most likely for a piece of woman-flesh to strike his fancy.
Eyes alighted on Noreen's stretched jersey. Boobs bulging with thick nips underneath.
"Say," he said.
"Noreen."
"Yeah. I remembered your name."
He stretched his palm toward her. "I'm Slash."
"I remembered too."
Noreen took his hand.
Shook it.
He held onto her wrist for a split-second longer than strictly necessary.
For an instant, Noreen thought-hoped-he would flick his lips to her wrist.
Kiss her hand.
Then paw her glands.
"You traveling to New York too, Noreen?"
"Yeah."
"Family?"
"Sort of. Yeah."
His features flattened.
"Oh, Noreen. I'm sorry."
"You knew?"
"I guessed it."
"Was I really that bad?"
"Fuck no. You were easily one of the best. But the coaching staff was being ridden hard by the Olympic committee to get rid of all chicks who even resembled women."
"Still doesn't help."
"Well, fuck, Noreen. I was canned too."
He jiggled his pocket.
Noreen saw the wad of bills through the material of his trousers. Silently chewed her lips as she sensed movement in his other wad.
"Say, listen, Noreen. I was in search of liquid refreshment. May I buy you another drink?"
"Sure."
He signaled for the female flight attendant. Noreen could tell the flight bitch was hot in the crotch for Slash as she took in his hardbod while serving up the drinks.
Noreen gloated inwardly.
Sucked on her vodka and lemon.
"So you were fired too?" she said as Slash eased into the empty seat next to her. "Weren't you there as a consultant?"
"Yeah. I wasn't officially on staff. But I contracted the gig on the basis of a long-term thing-a few months at least."
"What gives?"
"Look at it this way. New committee head takes over this year. Wants his own man in at coach. The current head coach gets rid of all the flesh she can-including you, babes. Hopes it's somehow gonna save some ass-hers."
"Figures."
"But the axe is already swinging at the committee headquarters. Even as Coach Haller's tossing your hiney to the wind, word is on the way that her head's gonna go on a roll pronto."
"Shit."
"Coach's ass is canned immediately, without warning. As of this afternoon in fact."
"Serves the fuckface right."
"I get my walking papers-in effect-right then-cause I'm one of the hands hired on by the now-former coach."
"Sorry about my mouthing off like that. Coach Haller is your friend?"
"No. You're right. Just another asshole-just like the new prick. She'd have bounced me if she thought it'd help her position. Such is life. Such are careers."
"So what are you going to do now?"
"Well, let's see. You know I was-at a time not so very long ago nor so far away-motivation and performance trainer for the women's swim team?"
"Oh. Was that you?-"
"Yeah. I was busted as scapegoat for alleged psycho-lesbo numbers that they were running down in the press."
"You were-I read somewhere-weren't you- uh-kind of a criminal?"
"I was subsequently hired for big bucks by the East Krauts."
"Now I remember."
"It was a straight-up business deal. But the media hopped on my ass again. Didn't appreciate that I was coaching the commies-even though it was on a strictly capitalistic basis."
"And the Americans fired you to begin with."
"Made no difference to them. So they implied I was a traitor-or at least some kind of rogue, rascal, spy."
"Shit. Yeah. There were reports in the press a couple years ago that Jacquette and I and the other gymnasts were supposed to be anorexic. The fucking bastards."
"The funny thing is, though-I learned a lot about training from the commie krauts. And since then I've used it when consulting with US squads. But you can see why no one in coaching wants my name linked with theirs."
"Guess so."
Noreen felt the heat increase in her belly. Asshole ached, ate at her undies.
Hungry twatlips chewed, salivated. Smacked open and shut in her groin.
She went into her purse. rummaged around for another tobacco stick.
"Anyway," the dude continued. "I've got other pokers in the fire. So to speak." He looked at her cigaretted yip.
So she did Like suck action. Slash thought she might like something else stuck in there.
"Cigarette?" he said.
"Sure. Here."
"Thanks."
"Light?"
"Fire away."
Noreen blared up a tall flame on her lighter. Touched the cigarette tips.
His head was wreathed in smoke. Fumes plumed through his nostrils.
"What other-uh-activities you into, Slash?"
"Film work. Some theater."
"Does that tie in with-"
"I direct and choreograph action sequences. You know-fights, chases."
"Sounds cool."
"And I also coordinate any special conditioning or training programs the performers might need. Developing big pectoral muscles and flat tummy for a muscleman role-like if the guy's supposed to play a viking or ice-age warrior."
"Neat!"
"Get women to work on their legs, upper body. Flexibility and movement."
"Anything lined up?"
"I was approached about what was described as a major project. I'll be checking it out-the importance of these gigs is in the eye of the bankroller, and it often outstrips the financial remuneration with regard to yours truly."
"Well, I'm one girl who's gotta find something else to get into."
"With your physique-uh-it wouldn't detract from a performing career. You sing? Had acting lessons?"
"Dance."
"That's pretty solid to begin with. You might want to take some acting courses. Hustle up a few auditions. And then work up a video screen test to send around."
"You think so?"
"Only one way to find out what your potential is. Get out there and go for it!"
"Can we go for another round? Or have we reached our limit-on drinks for this flight?"
"They don't give a shit on these overnight flights. Even though they're supposed to give out only two drinks per passenger."
"Make them doubles."
"Coming right up."
Slash hustled his hardbod down the aisle. Noreen felt the heat rise from her twat through her asshole, clit, and tits to her neck. The fervor gripped the back of her brain.
She was hungry.
For flesh.
Slash's flesh.
Couldn't stand being alone-away from him for even an instant.
Where was he now?
What did you have to do for a couple of drinks around here, anyway?
Noreen craned her neck about and peered toward the back of the plane. She saw Slash talking animatedly to someone who was out of sight, in the galley next to the rear-cabin restrooms.
"I am sorry, sir," the flight bitch was saying. "We are limited to serving two drinks-"
"Okay, Desiree," Slash said, reading from the nameplate pinned to her left knocker. "I do understand. But we spilled our other drinks. It was a slight mishap when the plane jiggled."
Her eyes widened.
Then narrowed.
"Listen, stud. If you want to get that chickie you decided to try to hit on lushed up, and then bone her right there in the seat-it's none of my business. Don't care either way."
"But I never-"
"There's something I gotta tell you up front-no jive. I'd be risking my butt if I gave you one more drop of alcohol."
"What if I stole it? But actually left the money-maybe on the counter."
"I don't see how you could get away with something like that."
The rutheat flew from her like a rain of fucklust in the humid jungle.
"I could use stealth," he grinned.
"Wait just a second, loverboy. I have to go take a tiny piss."
Desiree turned on her heels. Looked back at him over her shoulder. Slash watched the curvature of her ass flash.
Then she disappeared into the restroom.
He noticed that Desiree had left the restroom door ajar. He quickly flopped down a fistful of dollars. Grabbed up a handful of tiny booze bottles from the storage bin beneath the counter.
Stashed them inside the pockets of his jacket. "There's no paper in here," Slash heard Desiree proclaim in a loud whisper from within the airplane's restroom.
"Excuse me?"
He saw the door flag open. Her unshod stockinged leg kicked out and up.
Beckoning, without shame.
Slash peered about into the doorway of the bathroom.
He was hit in the face-with a slap of pantyhose on the fly.
Caught a pair of moist panties on the chin.
He smiled.
Cocked his head about.
Slipped within.
"Where the fuck did he go?" Noreen snarled to herself as she sucked on her cig. "Fucking Slash. Probably picked up some other chippie somewhere else on the plane."
The heat in her quim turned to pain.
"Fucking jilted." She snorted.
"Fucking crazy, I am."
Alone, Noreen's mind continued to turn itself in and out. Milling on the reasons for the demise of her career in gymnastics.
Was it her fault that her body was developing into that of a full-blown woman?
Biology was biology.
Who was Noreen to interfere?
But she knew that other gymnasts had taken steps to alter their biological destinies.
Was Noreen not serious enough?
Should Noreen have taken hormone-blockers to preserve her hitherto girlish figure?
And her competitive edge?
Ah, but some of those other girls-those who had sizzled their insides with steroids and injections of other magical pharmaceutical elixirs-had wound up with no tits at all. Their adolescence denied, hormonal balance disturbed.
They too had ultimately dissolved their hopes, their dreams of greatness in the annals of gymnastics competition.
And were left sexually devastated.
Little-girl bodies.
Little-girl minds.
Forever warped.
Many of them had then gone into coaching-and had thus become debauchers of their own sex.
Hard-as-nails dykes.
Drenching their lives with the juices of their remorseless, ravening depravity.
Devoted to the corruption of others desires. For their mutated bodies.
Yes, those young women had made what they had believed were the requisite sacrifices for the furtherance of their athletic careers.
And now they continued their devotions to bodies of their own kind.
Well, Noreen was different.
And where the fuck was Slash?
"I wanted you to suck my pussy," Desiree said to Slash. "Then I was gonna blow yuh. Or maybe I woulda done that first."
Slash closed the door to the restroom behind him. He snapped open his pants.
"But now," Desiree said with her tongue hanging out over her jawline, "I think nothing less than a full-fledged fuck would do."
"You're right," he said.
His fingers twanged down his fly.
Briefs snapped down.
Cock flipped out and up.
"Yum," Desiree said.
Slicked her lips with a roll of her trim and tapered tongue.
Slash observed how she sat on the commode. Skirt hiked up past her hips.
Blouse opened down to her waist. Tits stuck up from the cups of the brassiere.
Nipples a throb.
Slash took his twanger between thumb and forefinger. Ran his digits down the length of the shank of cockmeat.
Jostled his balls.
Desiree reached out and capped the pecker with her fist.
She pulled his pelvis toward her. Hauling him by the honker.
"Unh."
"Maybe I will suck it first"
She covered the head of his penis with her lips. Jacked the stalk.
Collected the cock into her maw. Began to churn upon it with her jaw.
She slammed her choppers up and down on the choad. Nibbling at its neck.
Snapping her way down the curved thickness. Covering her face with his fuzz.
Her fingers jammed into his scrotum. The balls hopped and then hung low.
As Slash snapped his hips forward, shoving his hardon into her gullet, his sac of rocks bounced against her chin. His thighs came up close, smarming into her thick nips.
The cockrut in her face drove her to torment. She clawed at her own clit.
Crushed her slit between sliding digits. Twisted her own tits.
"Mercy."
Slash unsnared his pecker from her yip.
Drifted his dingdong down between Desiree's dank dugs. Ran his cock between her tits, brushing the nipples with the choadhead.
"Oh. Yes."
Slash dropped to his knees. Stretched his neck and curled out his tongue.
His wet tongue tricked sideways and Out. Snarled inward among the furrowed cunny.
"Ngh."
He yanked a few tiny cunthairs with his teeth. Breathed deeply into her warmth.
"Clit," Desiree murmured.
She shook it with her thumb.
"Clitoris."
Scratched it with her fingernails.
"The clit."
Hit it with her fist.
Slash nosed into the head of her hive. Nuzzled her nubbin of clit.
Turned it in his lips.
Nibbled on the pip.
"Uh uh uh."
He torqued the clitoris with the curl of his tongue. Spread his oral member wide and lapped from side to side.
"Oh hu-uh huuuuu-uh!"
Slash raised his head at an angle. Chinned across the slick area of knotted clit.
Cheeked over the area.
"Oooooh."
Frazzled the clit with the stubble of his beard.
"Weird."
"See what's coming."
In an instant Slash had wrung her tits, warped her into an arch.
Pressed Desiree over backward. Hauled her hips up by the nates of her haunch.
Hung his honker down between her legs.
"Let's go."
"What was that?"
"Don't worry. Ha ha ha. Just another passenger wants to use the can."
"Puck ‘em."
"Fuck me."
Slash stabbed his wanger in an arc. The tapered head hooked into her twat.
"Ah."
Greased its way in-all the way-on the first solid thrust.
"I want a shot."
"So soon?"
"Better make it quick. I have to make another round of the passengers."
"Shit, Desiree. Just as it was getting good."
"Are you good at getting off?"
"If you are."
"Shoot."
Slash hustled his hips faster.
"Unh unh unh."
He increased the friction against his knob by diddling from side to side rather than straightforwardly. Stretching out the lining of her cunt as he fuckrutted.
"I'm going-"
He jabbed in deeper.
"Going-"
Drove in for the kill.
"Gone!"
Desiree shook in harrowing orgasm. Perspiration flew from her juddering head.
Desiree pressured her boobs into his ribs. Felt his male nipples dirk quickly, again and again, into her own thickened knobbies.
Her mouth roamed freely over his chin, neck and shoulders. Her fingernails grilled the shoulder blades, tapped down his spine.
She rowed her phalanges over the cheeks of his ass. Slid them between.
Slash stirred in his ballocks as she trimmed his asshole rim with her fingers.
She then seized his stinger with her fingers. Brought the dick, dripping, out from her cunt. Sucked her own cuntjuice right from the pulsating head of the pecker itself.
"Fuck," someone whispered.
"Someone in there?"
Voices from outside.
Slash listened. As long as it wasn't Noreen knocking at the bathroom door, he could care fucking less.
"Fuck me more."
He twisted his wanger into her crinkled snatch. Weaseled it inward.
"More. Do me more."
Slash jammed his fingers up her ass.
"Oh, gawd. Yes."
She came in ever-increasing waves.
And then his poker was stoked. He stroked slowly, gently.
Inched his cock out until the head was barely kissing the entranceway to the cunt. Pulled it out ever so slightly more.
Then drove for the score.
He sunk his cock rudely into the vermilion flesh. Hog hanked as it rooted.
Bursts of jissom burned inside her. Cauterizing her with sperm.
"More."
The thunks of come increased to a crescendo, then began to diminish.
The last several threads of jizz fizzed in her trembling twat.
"Are you finished?"
Just with that round."
"You might wanna save some for your little honey out there."
"Really. You think she's game?"
"I saw the look of cock in her eyes. Believe me. I oughta know."
"Thanks, Desiree."
"Fuck off."
"I mean for the drinks."
"They're on the house."
"That's okay. I left the money out there on the galley counter."
"Motherfucker. Should have given it to me. It'll be gone by now."
"Do you-"
"I'm not a whore. I fuck for free or I don't luck at all."
Slash fingered his fly. Got himself all tucked in and ready to roll.
"Still need that toilet paper?" Slash said.
"Not after you licked me all out."
"I'll check to see if anyone's outside."
"Okay. Time for you to split, I think. I'll wait in here and sneak out in a couple minutes."
"Right. I better get back to my seat."
"How considerate you are. Can't leave your girlfriend alone too long."
"I promised her I'd get drinks."
"So sweet."
"So are you."
She kissed his cheek.
"Say hello to your girlfriend for me, bigboy," Desiree said with a wink.Slash split open the door. Peeked through the open seam.
Big eye looking right at his.
He was eye to eye. Face to face with another person who. had apparently been waiting to use the facilities.
"Oh. Hi, Noreen."
"My turn now?"