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1
He parts my thighs, my cheeks flushing as I feel his rough hands on my sensitive, exposed skin. I know I should close them, squirm away, leave, but something keeps me there. In his grasp. Open to him.
His hands grip my hips as he slides up, and his mouth goes to my naked breasts, sucking at my tits with such hunger. No words come from the tall, dark, handsome stranger’s mouth—he doesn’t even know my name. So why am I subtly pushing my hips up in need for him?
Because I want it. I shouldn’t, but I do.
I need his thick, muscular arms wrapped around me, his thick, husky voice panting in my ear as he gropes me, his hard bulge grinding against me.
I gasp as I feel his cock on my lower lips. It’s massive and stiff, almost so large that I wonder whether I could really take the whole thing in. I start to open my mouth to say so, but he silences me with a deep kiss as he thrusts himself into me entirely.
A hand goes up to my wavy blonde hair, feeling the locks as if they were made of gold, all the way down to the tips. My long legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into me.
It feels like he knows me, going into my deepest and most protected places in my pussy as he groans. I can’t believe someone this hot is getting so hard at the feeling of being inside me! I want to give it all up to him, to taste him on my lips and feel him filling me up.
I feel his cock start to get tense inside me, and I roll my head back as I get ready for our shared orgasms…
Turbulence on the plane wakes me up with a start, and I blink blearily as the smell of the coach cabin fills my senses, making me clench my eyes and want to go back to sleep and into that sweet, sweet dream all over again.
Soft giggling to my right makes me crack a rueful eye open again.
“Sounds like you were having a good dream, Jess,” says my friend Casey, raising her eyebrows. It’s only then that I realize I was blushing, and I run my hand over my face, embarrassed. My hand is down between my legs under the tray, but thankfully, my dream didn’t let my fingers roam under my pants where I wanted them.
“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. There’s no explaining my way out of this one. “Guess the travel has me a little pent up.”
“Just wait ‘till we get to Amsterdam,” she says, her eyes bright and energetic as the moment we started off on this wild trip to Europe for the New Year’s break. “The city was, like, built on ways to help you unwind! Not to mention anyone we’re gonna meet when we see the band. But I guess that’s what you’re looking forward to most, huh?”
I smile back at her teasing tone, blushing a little and desperately looking for a way to change the subject. I flag down a passing attendant.
“Um, ma’am? Do you still have some of those mini-vodkas I saw earlier? I’d like to order one for us, please!”
The stewardess smiled and went to go fetch the alcohol, and Casey raised her eyes at me. “Damn, girl, really going all out to travel in style, huh?”
“We earned this,” I say, winking at her. “We raised all that money to get us here on our own, so even before the time we see The Seldom Strangers live on stage, I want to make this a trip to remember.”
The vodka arrives, and Casey grins at me, paying for it herself. “Alright, Jess, you got me. To Amsterdam!” She unscrews the bottle and takes a drink, then hands it to me to do the same. I smile as the alcohol warms my system. I’m hungry, so it doesn’t take long for the vodka to make me feel less self-conscious about having just had a sex dream on a plane.
I don’t know about everything Casey was talking about. I’m just an arts student at UCONN, and I’ve never really been much of a wild partier. The wildest I ever get is hanging out at the local dive bars and taking care of my two guinea pigs. If I’m being totally honest, Casey’s enthusiasm is a lot of what dragged me into all this. Going to Amsterdam should be one of the most exciting moments of any 21 year old’s life, and don’t get me wrong, this is exciting, but it’s also more nerve-wracking than anything I’ve ever done.
At the same time, though, going to see local alt-rock bands with the local grunge scene is my one big vice, so to get to go see one of the biggest up-and-coming bands like The Seldom Strangers is a dream come true.
So yeah, I guess Casey was right about one thing: this was going to be an unforgettable trip.
2
“Oh my god, look at the snow!”
We step out of the airport in Amsterdam to a magical scene. Fresh, pure-white snow covers the world outside, and the chill makes our breath visible as we step out.
I’ve had a little time to freshen up in the airport bathroom — glamorous, I know — and I look a little more like myself. My blonde hair is still kind of a mess, but my green eyes are accented by winged eyeliner, but I’m not sure whether it’s distracting from or drawing attention to the fact that I haven’t had a good sleep in almost 24 hours.
I’m still in my travel gear, so that means a gigantic Amsterdam-grade coat over my flannel shirt and part of my distressed denim jeans. I wish I had something a little more comfortable than my black Mary Janes, but as a student, I took what I could get — in this case, what my parents got me for my last birthday.
“There is snow in Connecticut, Casey,” I laugh, and she rolls her eyes as she takes me by the hand to drag me to the nearest bus.
“Okay, yeah, but this is European snow. It’s nicer.” Her tone is tongue-in-cheek, and I giggle back at her.
We take the bus to our hostel — a crummy little place that looks like it has seen better days, but hey, it’s a place to crash for the week, and that’s about the only time we’ll be needing it. We get a chance to really freshen up, shower, and change into decent clothes after meeting up with some of the other people we’re sharing the place with. They’re Casey’s friends, but we don’t really spend much time chatting. Casey is eager to get us out on the town.
With touched-up makeup, I’m feeling good as we head out. The dark gray peacoat and black knit scarf I bought just for this trip is covering my dark red crushed velvet dress and thick leggings that make me
feel like I’m back home again. The winter chill only guts me a little bit when we step back out into the busy streets.
“You cannot be serious — already?” I laugh a few minutes later, when Casey is dragging me toward what I can recognize as a pot bakery.
