I notice Claire has decided to stop writing. I'm sorry about that because when I'm away from home, reading what she's been up to....or what's been up her (lol) has given me some spectacular orgasms. That said, she's come on a huge journey in a short space of time, and maybe it's right for her to go private for a while. I'll try and convince her to write some of the more sexy stuff from time to time, even if just for my benefit, but I don't know whether she will. Meanwhile, I had an orgasm in flight the other day which came purely through what I was thinking about. Day dreaming while in flight......
I'm in the left hand seat. I have a newly qualified flirst officer, and fuck me, is she keen, but then so was I when I first had my wings. Give her a few hours down the line and it won't look quite too appealing. I asked her if she would like to be pilot handling on the outward leg, and of course, she couldn't wait to agree. The take off, standard instrument departure and climb to cruise were perfect, and now we settled in for our four hour flight. I moved my seat backwards and let her get on with it, casting my eye over the instruments......and over her. Like me, she prefers skirts. Like me she wears black tights. Like me, I am 99% sure, there is no bra under that shirt. I begin to stare at her knees. They are very sexy! How does a knee become sexy, I wonder? Her skirt has ducked up a little. I suspect that her seat isn't quite far enough forward and she has scuttled along it slightly, either way that skirt is mid thigh now, maybe a tad higher. My mind, however, is under that skirt. I'd tried a little small talk to put her at her ease, but I'll tell you something. Female pilots flying with senior female pilots get much more nervous than when flying with male colleagues. No idea why! I got as far as no, no boyfriend, not married, no relationship, and it became obvious she wanted to concentrate on the flight, and presumably my subsequent report. Another little wriggle in the seat, and the skirt inched up more. There's no actual hands on in the cruise, well, there can be, but I don't know any pilots who do it. There's fuel calculations, instrument checks and other things to do, but it's brain and eyes, not arms and feet. Her thighs, I noticed, were as sexy as her knees! The last time I got anyone off was Claire after her first day at work, but I found myself wishing I could slip my hand between those nylon covered legs and up to her crotch. I guessed it feel the seam, and wonder, as I always do, if she pulls her tights up extra high so that the seam rides her clit? For some resona, I pictured her in quite unsexy panties.....cotton, coloured stripes.....the type and style a sixth former might wear when her mind is on her studies and not between her legs. By now, I felt a familiar stirring between my own legs. Partly born of boredom, partly because it was developing a real shine on this girl! I really wanted to explore her. So I let my imaginary hand ride slowly up her thigh and imagined that lovely moment when she clamped her legs together for a brief second before giving in to her feelings and slowly spreading them as I explored ever higher. I imagined reaching her crotch, feeling the seam of her tights, and the rucked up material,of her panties beneath. I imagined poking a small hole in the nylon, enough for an inquisitive finger to stroke her through the damp cotton of her panties. Then I thought of hooking my finger through the leg hole, and what I might find there. I gave myself the image of a thin growth of pubic hair for a change. It felt soft, delicate and beautiful. Then came the moment when I found her slit, and with it the hard clitoris between those moist folds. I heard the sharp intake of breath as I touched it, and oh, in my mind, how I would have loved to lean over and smell her. Sadly the centre console would have prevented that. They aren't designed for captains to lick out their first officers in flight for some reason. My dirty mind allowed myself to rise from my seat and position myself behind hers. Now, I could reach between those open legs with ease. My finger found the soaked hole and pressed inside making her squirm, gasp and moan. Her head turned sideways and her mouth met mine in at first a tentative, but soon passionate kiss. I felt the pre-contractions becoming faster, and then, as she whispered my name, she came on my finger as it pressed with almost savage intent on her g-spot. Back in reality, I covered the orgasm my mind alone had given me with a series of coughs. She continued being the perfectly professional pilot with no idea what had just happened next to her, or that she had been the focus of that sweetest orgasm of all, one born purely of the mind.
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