Author's Notes:
This is meant to be one of what will be a series of "one-offs" featuring the titular character Cheslea "Choo-Choo" and her slut-tacular sexual escapades. I have written this one specifically for the winter writing event since I enjoy getting out there and participating with the community. Others will follow as I have ideas of what shenanigans she could get into.
Chelsea, an eighteen-year-old college drop-out from Palletain, is coming home for Christmas. However, Chelsea hates flying. How exactly will she distract herself? And will she fall into old habits?
Chelsea Choo-Choo the Christmas Flight Floozy
"Now boarding zone three for Adrian Air Flight 672 to Palletain, please check your boarding passes to confirm your zone right next to your seat number. Thank you, zone three."
Huffing and puffing Chelsea crouched at her waist and put her hands on her knees, as she finally found her gate. It was like the world was spinning around her as she ran full force through Isador International Airport, trying to find her connection to her hometown of Palletain.
It wasn't like she had a short layover, Chelsea's time management skills were just that bad. How could she have known that this airport would be a labyrinth of holiday travelers, gate numbers, stores, Christmas trees, and terminals? It was not as straight of a shot as she had thought, when she sat down at the airport bar an hour ago.
So, here it was, after leveraging her fake ID for a few shots, and a mile-long sprint through three terminals, she felt like collapsing next to the gate queue, just as they called her zone.
"Ma'am, are you on this flight?" The male gate attendant waved eagerly to her, almost hurrying her to board.
"Yes...I... Yes, I am." She struggled with her breathy words.
"Oh great, we are ready for ya, hun."
As the world ceased spinning, Chelsea began to see she was one of three people in Zone 3 boarding this flight. A stuffy-looking lady with a side-swept, can-I-speak-to-your-manager-type hairdo was scanning her boarding pass at the door as she scrunched her nose, pulling her wimp of a husband along behind her. She was bitching about something that a grown woman should have developed a coping mechanism for a decade ago, as they proceeded down the jetway. Mentally, Chelsea hoped that she was far away from that pair, less they smell the alcohol on her breath.
It was Chelsea's goal to make it home for Christmas without incident. It was her first time home in a year for her, and when she had left, it was not on the best of terms. Chelsea had a... reputation, that followed her and brought a level of angst to the family. Despite their judgment of her, she did miss them, and this trip was meant to reconcile some things. The fact she just ran up to her gate after drinking under the pretense of a fake ID wasn't exactly the best start, but she could recover from here.
Taking a deep breath, she sauntered up to the attendant and handed over her boarding pass to the aging man with the walrus mustache. She did her best to look sober, despite the less-than-graceful trip on the non-existent snag in the carpet, leading up to the scanner.
A few beeps later, she was cleared down the jetway.
"Have a wonderful flight, sweetie, Merry Christmas." The wrinkled man handed her back her boarding pass, stealing a look down her abdomen as a halo of skin peaked out around her waist.
"Merry Christmas, handsome!" Chelsea cocked a hip to the side in an overt gesture to be cute, as she gave the attendant a two-fingered salute before stepping down the length of the passage before her.
A brief look over her shoulder confirmed he was fully drinking her in. The shots were certainly catching up with her as she enjoyed the attention.
Chelsea hated flying, hence the reason she started this trip off with a drink. The thought of rising and falling constantly, and the hell it played on her equilibrium, reigned havoc on her stomach. It was less butterflies and more like a squadron of sparrows in her gut. At the door of the plane, a smiling flight attendant directed her with graceful hands down the center aisle towards the cheap-seats.
She gave Chelsea a strange look, more than likely because her face was as white as a sheet. Her eyes were wide as she felt dizzy stumbling down the aisle towards her seat, 20B.
As she tripped along and hit each aisle chair, and occasional passenger, like a ping-pong ball, the small girl noticed how few people were on the plane. It felt like only about two dozen or so, and many of the seats were left unoccupied as she passed rows and rows of emptiness.
Bumping into the snooty bitch she saw at the gate, she received an evil glare like a snake in the bushes being stepped on. Her face became scrunched, and as Chelsea moved on, muttering could be heard about her.
"Go off," Chelsea snorted all too loudly. A 'tsk' and a sharp head turn behind her, came from the subject of her ire.
Ahead, she saw two rather large men, one muscular and bald with tattoos along his arms, and the other fat and bald with a kind face. They were sitting on the aisle and window respectively. Glancing drunkenly at her ticket, she figured that with her luck she was right between them, and after a moment of thought, she felt it, indeed, was her luck.
As lustful thoughts ran through her head, the little devil in Chelsea's gut started to cackle, tickling the nerves in a special place. When she came to the row with the big men and realized it was indeed her own, she didn't hesitate, taking her seat right between them as she squeezed her small body, ass first, in front of the muscular man in the aisle seat.
A normal girl like her, cute, petite, and alone, would have grabbed one of the many empty rows to claim it for herself. No one would have told her to take her middle seat between two large and strange men, the flight attendants certainly wouldn't care. But Chelsea took it anyway, almost like she desired it, and that was because subconsciously, she did.
The muscular man was exactly her type, someone who looked like they could manhandle her, roughly rearrange her guts, and make her cream with a mean scowl. The fat man seemed sweet and was the type to be pretty thankful for what she had to give. Both had their place in Chelsea's sex-food pyramid.
Chelsea was a slut. A notorious slut. At the college she dropped out of rather quickly, she was known as 'Chelsea Choo-Choo' an apt name given for the trains run on her whenever she was given the chance. The proximity to man-meat made her shiver. Though a large part of her reputation in her home of Palletain was because of her promiscuity, she sat down in that middle seat anyway.
Snuggling in the seat, she wasn't shy about bumping arms with the larger and older men. She noticed the greying hair of the hot muscular man's beard. The heat coming off of them was like a drug to her.
They both were ignorant of her character, and more so annoyed that this girl didn't have the grace to find her own row.
"Hi, sorry, Merry Christmas." She cutely shrugged her shoulders as her flirtatious tone surprised them.
"Err, yeah, Merry Christmas." They both muttered, trying not to check her out.
She was cute, and had that going for her, but what unsuspecting stranger would think they were getting anything out of that? Unless they were extremely arrogant. Chelsea liked the unsuspecting strangers the most. An arrogant fool would take her for granted.
"Wait... damn." She grasped the armrests, her neighbors had surrendered so easily as she caught herself in the act. Both men looked at her peculiarly, as she voiced her thoughts out loud. How much more annoying could this girl get?
It was happening again, this was how she gets in trouble each time. She just sluts herself out whenever the chance is given. And coming home for the holidays for the first time, she wanted to come with a better impression, for her parents' sake.
Grasping the armrests, she closed her eyes and tried to think of anything but sex. Dolphins, the latest Sena Lark movie, Coastal Jazz, fun facts from her college Continental History Class, anything to keep her mind off of it.
But all that failed, as the plane began to lurch backward from the gate.
Chelsea let out an audible gasp. Both men on either side of her, looked at her and then at each other, but remained silent. As the plane taxied, her heart raced, thinking of what was about to be.
"Errrrr, ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, seems like it's our lucky day, we are first for takeoff here on our flight to Palletain. Weather is nice, not good beach weather nice, but good Holiday weather nice. Plus it's a bit cold outside. We'll hopefully arrive into Palletain in about two hours if we have a headwind, temperatures there are in the forties..."
Both men made a glance at Chelsea who wore a short, pleated skirt and a white tank top. Neither winter attire that looked warm. Chelsea's aura couldn't get any stranger.
"...we'll be taking off momentarily, and get everyone home for Christmas. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for departure."
This was it... the moment she dreaded. Chelsea white-knuckled the armrests on either side of her, as the plane turned and the engines whined. The whole aircraft lurched forward in such a violent way that Chelsea squinted her eyes and looked visibly disturbed. It was all happening, the lifting feeling as they flew into the air, her whole body tingled and felt flush as they soared.
Chelsea couldn't take it, she needed a distraction. At that moment, she decided to give in to the inevitable.
As they ascended into the air, the men, on her right and on the left, had begun to lean away from her. It was either out of politeness to her personal space, or just aversion to her unusual presence. There was a mild annoyance to her being there, but it was not like either of them had moved away yet. But then again, the fasten seatbelt sign was on, so they could very well have plans to.
To her left, the man with the big shoulders and tattoos arched his back uncomfortably. She needed to work fast if she wanted any sort of distraction to come of this.
"You don't have to worry about me," the small girl, squeezed between two very large men, squeaked, as she smiled at the one on her left. "I don't need much space." She smacked her lips as she said it, looking him up and down like her next meal, as she shifted excitedly in her seat.
They didn't look gay by any means, but the lords knew her radar for that was not finely tuned. As his eyes wandered to her, she caught him taking a peek down her tank top.
Bingo.
Chelsea knew she was validated at that point. Taking a slight peek, she didn't see any rings on fingers, not that it had stopped her before.
The big man to her left felt a bit more at ease and straightened his back, though he still didn't quite look normal. There was a tenseness about him, as he stole glances at the cute teen in 20B.
Looking over to her right, the chubby man there had a nervous expression, unsure if the invitation was for him as well. Chelsea felt a bit of the lift of the airplane and took a deep breath, the blood rushing to her head as she felt a light warmth and dizziness around her.
"You, too. I don't, bite I promise." She nudged him softly with her elbow, and a bright smile. However, a spot of turbulence wiped it off of her face, and her normally pink complexion with spots of freckles, was wiped away with a cold whiteness.
The man on the right obliged, both their shoulders squeezing her small frame in her seat.
"So do you both know each other?" Chelsea tried to break the ice as she took long, deep breaths.
"Yeah, Allen and I, here, went to school together back in the day."
"In Palletain?"
"No, actually in Klarkstown, we just both recently moved to Palletain."
"Oh, that's nice." She squeaked and clenched her eyes shut as her breathing got louder and more nervous with each bump and jerk of the plane.
"Don't like flying?" One asked her, looking concerned, as he stole a look at his friend. Both were being very polite with their girl-facing arms in their laps and allowing her access to the armrest.
"No... how can you tell?" She gulped and smiled, brushing the edges of her skirt she felt a cold draft along her legs, as the air began to flow better through the cabin.
"Sorry folks, we'll be going through a bit of turbulence on our ascent today." The garbled announcement over the PA by the pilot, did Chelsea little to reassure her nerves.
As the plane began to rock some more, dropping through an air pocket, Chelsea's hands clasped the men's arms on either side. Yanking them up, she placed them on the armrest with little resistance on their part, placing her arms atop and intertwining her fingers with each.
"Sorry... I hope you don't mind." She used her big, adorable eyes to plead with them as she tightened the grip of petite fingers. Both men looked chuffed to be of service, nodding and smiling their assurances to her that nothing bad was going to happen.
Chelsea loved the protecting nature of men, nothing turned her on more than that masculine need to look out for the cute, tiny female. Shifting in her seat, she took a sigh of relief as they rode the waves of turbulence upwards. Resting against either of their arms, she didn't hold back her willingness to nuzzle against them, her small breasts grazing their forearms through her thin tank top.
"Thanks, boys... you don't know how much this means to me." She squeezed their hands softly and caressed their thumbs with her own. She milked it for all she could.
"I'm Chelsea by the way," she said, as she laid her dirty-blonde head against the muscular forearm of the man on her left.
"Gregg," he responded with a crack, a bit taken aback by her unabashed friendliness.
"And I'm Allen," the other said, Chelsea rubbing his arm up and down in a massaging motion.
"Do you fly a lot?" Gregg asked, looking down at the girl's dimpled face, as she laid her cheek on his bicep.
"I try not to." She giggled before a sudden drop of the plane and the whine of the engine caused her to squeak.
"What brings you on this one?" Albert laughed, as he patted her arm and rubbed it from her hand to her elbow in an attempt to distract her.
Chelsea smiled, it seemed the feeling was mutual.
"Uh, going home, to see my parents for Christmas." She clenched their hands as the overhead bins rattled.
"Holiday break from college?" Gregg looked around the plane, wondering if anyone could see them intimately holding hands with this girl.
"Heh... no, can't say I am doing that well, I dropped out." Chelsea reflected on her life as a vagabond as of late, living off whatever whim or fancy she had from place to place. She hadn't told her parents about leaving college; eventually, on this visit home, they would find out, but that was a problem for another day.
For right then, this was the life she wanted, and the one she enjoyed, going from place to place and living 'off the land'. Little trysts like these she was about to engage in were just the highlight.
"So, what do you do?" Allen sat forward, looking the girl up and down curiously, wondering what she was about.
Chelsea smiled at him, a suggestiveness to her expression, as he asked such an open-ended question. "A little bit of everything." She squirmed cutely in her seat.
"Oh? That's vague..."
"Curious?" She whipped her head to Gregg, her hair brushing his arm as she smiled up at the much larger man, her neck arched to look him eye to eye.
"Now I am." He leaned forward to look at her. The middle-seat girl sat back, with curious men on either side of her.
"Well." She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Last thing I did was a mall Santa's elf."
"Oh?"
"Ho-ho."
"Yes, That's right." She giggled as they teased her.
"Did you wear the ears?" Allen felt brave enough to pluck at the top of Chelsea's ear, who in turn flirtatiously scowled at him.
"Oh, I look super cute in pointy ears."
"I can't picture it." Gregg seemed to egg her on.
"Yeah, I don't quite believe it." Allen joined in his skepticism.
Chelsea giggled some more, freeing one of her hands to take out her phone from her bag. Playfully, she held the phone close as if she had something naughty to hide in her photo gallery, her eyes peering over her phone case at the curious men to tease them.
A jolt of turbulence caused her to lose the grip on her phone, the unlocked zPhone falling into Allen's lap.
"Oh, let's see." He picked it up slowly, giving her ample opportunity to grab it back if she didn't want him to see.
Chelsea made little effort to retrieve it. "Noooo, give it back." She feigned embarrassment as she held her hands against her blushing cheeks.
"Let's seeeee." Allen took a look at the picture she had up. It was a group photo of several elf girls and Santa in the mall, Chelsea sticking out by far. He turned the photo to Gregg and nodded, impressed.
"You do make a cute elf." Gregg agreed, as he looked at the dramatic pose Chelsea made in the photo, clinging to the lucky mall Santa. The other girls were not even half as alluring.
"Let's see what else." Allen looked to Chelsea to see if she would object before swiping to the next photo. Chelsea simply bit her lip, holding on to Gregg's arm as the plane still rocked.
Magically, the horrible sensation of flight was in the back of her mind.
After a few more photos with Santa, some of which Chelsea stood, VERY, provocatively with Father Christmas, Gregg laughed.
"I bet Santa appreciated his little helper." Gregg's teasing became a little more forward.
Chelsea smiled. He had no idea how far towards the top of the Naughty List she was.
As Allen joined in the teasing, Chelsea reflected on how the older men needed little encouragement to get flirty with her. Although Chelsea usually enjoyed a good chase, the nerves of being on this rocky plane made her appreciate how easy this was coming.
"Let's see what else?" Allen looked at her, again seeking approval, but not moving 'til he heard something definite.
"You have the phone." Chelsea scooted up in her chair and scrunched her nose, as she acted embarrassed and nodded.
Another swipe and a different kind of picture was on the screen. This time, Chelsea was in front of a changing-room mirror with her elf costume, her green skirt with red trim riding a little high as her asscheeks peeked out below.
"Oh my god," Allen blurted out, his eyes wide. Gregg nearly leaned across Chelsea to get a look. Both men lost their senses for a moment, as they lapped up the imagery. Allen quickly handed the phone back to Chelsea, a touch embarrassed.
Chelsea took the phone, admiring how nice her ass looked for a second before tucking the screen close to her chest and blushing.
"Sorry." Allen held his hands up apologetically.
"It's okay." Chelsea laughed at the situation. "I have worse that you didn't see." She gave him a flirtatious glare.
Allen was still red, and Gregg was coughing, a bit stunned at how flirty the girl was getting. Chelsea sensed she may need to slow her approach, though she was yearning to get this going; each time the plane shook, she held on to Gregg's hand harder.
"Deep breaths," Gregg told her, as he patted her hand.
Chelsea wondered if he would be saying that to her in another context soon. She looked at his crotch and hoped he packed as much as she thought he did.
Arching her head up, she looked around the plane. Their row was isolated from the sparse pockets of other passengers. The snuffy lady from earlier and her husband, a half dozen rows up, were the nearest people.
"So what do you do when it's not elf season?" Gregg changed the subject.
"She goes to the North Pole, of course," Allen joked.
The trio laughed together, Chelsea especially. Allen didn't know how close he was with the pole part in a few contexts.
"Well... aside from that, I was practicing massage therapy for a bit."
"Really? A small thing like you?" Gregg seemed skeptical.
"I'd surprise you." Chelsea didn't even wait to be invited, running her hand up Gregg's shoulder and pinching it up and down.
Gregg oohed at the sensation, the tension leaving his shoulder as she pinched it toughly.
"You are good."
"Mmm-hmmm!" Chelsea kept going, her hand around the back of his neck pinching it up and down.
"Ladies and gentlemen, here from the flight deck, it's going to be a bit of a rough flight to Palletain, a storm system is moving across the west and it doesn't seem like we will be turning the fasten-seatbelt sign off any time soon. Hang tight and we will try and get you refreshments in due time."
Chelsea huffed and closed her eyes nervously. It was going to be a rough one, she needed these boys to step it up and distract her.
"Hey, Gregg."
"Yeah...?" He soothingly answered her, as her hand pinched his shoulder muscle. Allen looked jealous as he sat next to her.
"I'd hate to make you uneven, do you mind?"
"Mind wha--?"
Chelsea unclipped her belt buckle and swung her leg over the older man's lap. Sitting above his crotch she straddled him, her small body against his, as she strategically and subtly rubbed his crotch with her own.
Gregg was too stunned to speak, looking straight at the tiny breasts beneath the girl's top, the blue skirt spread out over his lap, and smooth legs on either side of him.
"I want to just even you out over your other shoulder." Chelsea began to work on his opposite shoulder, both hands kneading his flesh, as he groaned.
"Allen, don't worry, I'll do you next." Her tongue snapped on the 'do' part. Her eyes looked sideways to him.
She looked around the aircraft to see if anyone noticed. Thus far, they hadn't. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate a good audience, but she didn't want her party to be broken up prematurely.
The plane rocked hard, making Chelsea rise from Gregg's lap a bit before pushing her back down against him. She held on to the larger man tightly, pressing her body against his as they rode out the turbulent patch.
"Gregg..."
"Yeah?" His hands were up and away from her, afraid to touch her, despite how she ground against him with each bit of turbulence they hit.
"Hold on to me please, I don't want to end up on the ceiling today," she whined into his shoulder and grabbed on to his hands. Placing them on either side of her hips, she pushed them against her and held them there for a moment, as she breathed.
"Yeah.. yeah..." Gregg instinctively reassured her, by grazing his thumbs, arousing the seam of her tank top, teasing a small sliver of skin.
"Thank you." Chelsea kissed Gregg on the cheek, and went back to work on his shoulder.
Allen was salivating by this time. Eager for his turn.
"Hey, darlin'." Gregg rubbed his hands up and down her sides, daring to be more forward. Chelsea smiled in response.
"Yes, dear?" She looked him dead in the eyes.
"How old are you?" Gregg stared at her deeply with a serious expression.
Chelsea blushed. "Eighteen."
Gregg groaned, shaking his head. He took his hands off her petite hips and hovered them a few inches above.
"I don't believe you."
Allen shook his head and laughed.
"Why because I am tiny and cute?" Chelsea put her hands around Gregg's neck and whipped her hair around. She had a devious glare about her as she looked deep into his eyes.
"Prove it." He squinted at her.
Leaning over, crotch still on his, she grabbed her wallet from her purse. With a bit of fumbling, she slipped her government-issued ID out of its sleeve and held it in front of Greg's face.
"See." The date confirmed she turned eighteen seven months ago.
"How do I know it's not a fake?"
"Does it matter?" She looked at him knowingly. Wrapping her arms around his neck.
She knew it was soon going to get interesting with this line of questioning. She didn't blame him for being cautious, more men should, she was certainly very petite and cutesy for her age. She admired his desire to be honest at the very least.
"Yes..." he said with a serious tone, taking her arms from around his neck and holding them in front of her. He looked like he was going to ask her to get off, and Allen looked tense awaiting her answer.
But Chelsea just smiled, reaching into her wallet again, still in Gregg's lap. A bit of her stomach appeared beneath her shirt as it rode up her body while reaching, and the waistband of her skirt opened slightly to tease at the darkness that lay beneath her.
Both Gregg and Allen looked at each other, as they tried not to ogle her too much before knowing. But before long, the giddy Chelsea popped back up straight and held out another ID.
"That one isn't fake, because this one is." She held forth another ID with her image, the date claiming she turned twenty-one seven months ago.
Biting her lip, she held it proudly and awaited their response, both men smiling as the plane rocked a bit more, the vibrations sending sensations through both Chelsea and Gregg's crotches.
Gregg put his hands back on her hips, tighter this time. "I'm still a bit stiff over here." He motioned to his shoulder. "But don't worry, I won't let you go... anywhere." He probed forward with her, all their words carrying a suggestion of intention.
Hands back to his shoulders, she put her back into it this time, pulling herself up just slightly almost as if to tease Gregg as she pushed down on his shoulder. Gregg held her there, less to make sure the turbulence didn't take her, and more so to ensure she knew she wasn't going to tease him without a price.
"You know I'm much older than you, sweetie." He rubbed his fingers along a bare patch of skin at her waistband.
"Mm-hmm, how old?" She plopped herself back down on him, feeling a growing bulge beneath her as she slightly rubbed him down with a swish of her hips.
Allen and Gregg exchanged a look, as they caught on to exactly what this girl wanted.
"I'm forty-five... Allen, here, is forty-two."
"Mmmmm, very nice." Chelsea traced his scapula with her thumb firmly, her body pressed against his, her shirt riding up her back enough that the crack of her ass could be seen.
"And that doesn't bug you?"
"I give massages to lots of different people." Chelsea smiled and rubbed.
"I think it's a bit more than that, isn't it?"
"Oh?"
Gregg gave her a coy look.
With a sudden yelp from Chelsea and a creak of the aircraft, the plane dropped a few hundred feet at once as it found an air pocket. Chelsea latched on to Gregg hard, in a panic, and feeling lightheaded as the plane caught itself.
"Sorry, folks, just hit an air pocket." The pilot apologized in a garble.
Chelsea began to grind her core against Greg as she hugged her body against him. Roughly, she twerked her hips back and forth to give her the sensation of his bulge, anything to distract her.
"Whoa there, sweetie."
"I hate flying... okay, I need the distraction." She took a long stroke across his lap before sitting up.
"I had the whole plane to sit, and I chose to sit between you two, so does that answer your question?"
"You are pretty forward for a young lady."
"Maybe I just know what I want?" Chelsea took her hands and lifted her blue pleated skirt. Underneath, it was revealed she was not wearing any panties, her bare and plump slit glistened with arousal against Gregg's trousers, where a dark patch of moisture sat atop his bulge.
She let Gregg and Allen take a good look at her lady parts, and they took their time inspecting her. Allen even pulled aside more of her skirt fabric for a better view.
"Do you just go around wearing no panties in a mini-skirt all the time?"
"A lot of the time, yeah."
"Jesus, girl..."
"Don't know him," she replied, coyly. "Besides, isn't that the whole point of a skirt? Easy access?"
"I think your cute little mind is warped, sweetie."
"Are you really complaining?" She rubbed him up and down some more. The shaking of the plane caused her to whine as she massaged his shoulders. They draped her skirt upwards to give them a full view of her slit. A few times, Gregg took the liberty to brush his thumb along her bare mound and labia, Chelsea always humming her approval.
"Not at all, just... surprised."
"Good." She leaned down, kissing Gregg's neck before lifting her legs up and over to hop the empty seat between the men and straddle Allen next to the window. He was a bit more of a challenge, his big belly more of a cushion, but she quickly got to work on his shoulders and started grinding against his crotch as well. She could feel he was already at full mast; she happy to have this effect on them during the flight.
"Hold me, Allen." She still felt afraid of the constant bumps and turns the plane was making.
Allen hesitated, at first, but obliged by placing his hands underneath her skirt on her waist. As she kneaded his shoulders and neck, he kneaded her ass, albeit a little bit less gracefully.
This one seemed embarrassed that this beautiful eighteen-year-old was sitting, grinding in his lap, like he was unworthy. Unlike the muscular Gregg, who had confidence about him, Allen seemed to hesitate.
Chelsea loved to boost confidence, especially of unsuspecting men. She granted him a few lip bites and 'oh' faces, as she ground against his crotch, showing him she enjoyed it as much as he did, which was hardly a lie.
"You seem pretty eager." His hand crept underneath her ass, a finger slipping between her cheeks and finding her moist lips beneath.
"Mmm-hmmm."
"Even for a fat guy like me?"
"I told you Santa was very happy with me." She leaned into Allen's lips and met him for a passionate kiss, swapping spit with the older man for a time, as the plane rubbed them together. The shaking plane still stole the color from her face, but the heat and passion kept her focused on something more enjoyable than her fear.
"Ho-ho..." Allen jested with the girl, as she bit her lip and toyed with the bottom of her tank top. Gregg had sat back and admired the show, bewildered by their luck, not only to be on a nearly empty plane, but alone with a beautiful young lady.
"Before it gets much bumpier, let me do this." Chelsea lifted the tank top up and over her head, her petite body more visible as only her sports bra remained on her upper half. She, of course, wasted no time remedying that. She slipped the spandex fabric off behind her tank top and let her small breasts be free and out in the open.
"Hello..." both men said in unison, looking at her barely legal tits free of any sag or wrinkle. They sat there with as much elasticity as they would have imagined. Cute pink nipples positioned atop them and pointing out with as much eagerness as their owner.
"This is the part where I let you distract me from the crazy airplane any-y-ywa-a-ay you want," she said with urgency, as both men simply gawked at her.
Gregg wasted no time, whipping out something special for her from his pants, as they positioned both armrests in the upright position. Allen followed suit, though he was right beneath her, his cock lined against her mound, standing tall, as she ground on him.
"Good boys." She smiled and lowered herself horizontally across their laps. Her lower half stuck with Allen, her leg in a triangle on his lap giving full access to her lady parts. Her head lined up with Gregg's cock. Which, much like his arms, was veiny and thick
"Merry Christmas to us..." Allen unzipped the side of Chelsea's pleated skirt and began to slip it down her legs. Unwrapping the teen was then the highlight of his holiday, as he tugged the fabric off her hips and down her long, slender legs.
Meanwhile, Chelsea needed an escape from the rumblings of the plane. The jittering of the wings made a disconcerting shaking sound, and not being buckled in her seat, she welcomed being touched and held on to as much as the boys could offer. Gregg and his veiny arms, of course, held her best, groping her small tits and toying with her nipples. His other hand held on to her hair, pulling it back from her face as she began to make out with the underside of his cock.
"Whoa... good little elf," he said, as she hit every sensitive spot of his stem. He admired her glistening slit as Allen rid her of her skirt.
With each patch of turbulence, Chelsea did the best work. Grinding her hips against an all-the-more intruding index finger from Allen, and taking Gregg's cock in her mouth with tenacity. Pushing herself against Allen's fingers, she felt him probing around her rough interior, toying with all the parts of her channel to his own pleasure as she circled her hips around his finger. With Gregg's cock in her mouth, she soon reached for Allen's hand and lifted a second finger, a clear signal she wanted a bit more attention downstairs.
"What a good, little slut elf," he lustfully demeaned her in a soft tone, so as to not arouse suspicion from the flight crew or other passengers. The only arousal here would be the trio immersed in their lust.
Chelsea took her mouth off of Gregg's cock for a moment, and gave Allen a big, toothy smile. She emanated being the bestest-good-girl she could be, always eager to please. It was part of the intoxication to her, seeing the satisfaction from the men she gave herself to. While she may not have a steady professional occupation, being a slut certainly was a passion for her. There was no better way to start the holidays. These two older men on the plane were an appetizer for what was to come in her hometown.
For a small moment, Chelsea realized that if she did go home and start trouble again with her antics, her parents wouldn't forgive her. Her mind trailed off, until Gregg lifted her head by the hair so she was at the cusp of swallowing him. She smiled as she returned to the moment, kissing his tip.
As she lay across their laps, naked, the plane banked steeply, causing Chelsea's head to spin. Her mind wandered, fear creeping in until she put her mouth back on Gregg's manhood and took his full length. While she felt dizzy, the gagging made her lose sense of all of the unpleasantness, trying to distract her from the flight.
"God, you shouldn't know how to do that," Gregg groaned, as he caressed Chelsea's sweet face, admiring her bright eyes, cute cheeks, and dirty-blonde hair. He saw how the young lady had laid her head in his lap, enjoying his cock deep in her throat, with little thought to how deep it went. With her size, it had to be pretty far down, her temperament meant this was certainly nowhere near the first penis she had known.
Retracting, the saliva-coated length of Gregg's cock emerged from her pink, smiling lips. As she reached the tip, she left it with a kiss, smiling as she sat up to flip around and give Allen the same attention.
"Wow, aren't you a crowd-pleaser?" Gregg bitterly jested, as he was left cold with only her pussy to admire.
Allen, of course, was pleased to have the teen kissing his stem. She looked him over as she rubbed him between her fingers. His cock needed a bit more encouragement and certainly didn't have the yield that Gregg's did. But it was a distraction enough from the surrounding metal tube that hurtled through the air.
He grabbed handfuls of her hair, until it was all out of her face and under his control. A bit of a tight grip saw him pulling her head back as she made a pass of her mouth along his shaft. She had a much easier time getting down it, grasping his sack in her hand as she kissed his base. A small gag from a small throat made him tingle, as she looked up at him for affirmation.
Given his girth in comparison, Chelsea wondered if Allen would be distraction enough. However, Gregg made up for it with a few bites of her calf as he lifted her leg high. He was enjoying the taste of her young supple skin along her slender leg. His teeth danced around the thick of it and his tongue placed glistening trails. Her sweet, sweet taste drove him mad, as he explored her lower body as it sat across his lap like an in-flight meal.
"Girly, either we crashed and I am in heaven, or god bless your libido."
Chelsea giggled around Allen's cock, as she thought the same. She certainly never faulted god for her sex drive and the adventures that came with it.
"Ohhhhahhh!" Her moan echoed around the airplane as some of the sparse passengers raised their heads above the headrests to see what was going on. A barefoot leg from the girl hanging out into the aisle would be the only clue to the debauchery that was going on in row 20ABC.
Gregg had burrowed two fingers to the knuckle into her young snatch. He made the classic 'come hither' motion along the top of her vagina, as he found the bundle of pleasure nerves there at her core. Her toes curled with pleasure as she appreciated Gregg and the way he operated. Chelsea had a good idea of which cock she wanted to cum on.
Of course, with her being a perfectionist, that meant she needed to get the chubby man off first and quickly. Her mouth would be the key to making it happen, as she redoubled her efforts and danced her head up and down his shaft.
"Hey, you look a bit more excited over there than before." Gregg rubbed his thumb along her hood as his fingers still wriggled inside of her. She could hardly stop herself from making noise at this point. What did it matter if others heard? The plane was in the air, what would they do? Kick her off?
Allen began to groan just as loud. Her mouth was making the sloppiest of noises with each pass, the men being driven into a sexual fit as their hands groped, grabbed, and pinched every bit of her slender body. She felt Gregg even tugging at her labia with his index and thumb, as he investigated her fresh and tight bits. She liked how aggressive he played, certainly much more adept at handling a woman.
But guys like Allen were fun, too; they were always as eager to please as she was. Of course, Allen could please her the most by cumming quickly, so she could hop on Gregg's thick dick.
"Okay... this little elf needs something more than some fingers in her pussy." She sat up, fully in Gregg's lap as she pressed her naked body against him.
Naked, she could be seen pretty clearly above the seat rests. Several men, a few rows back, were gawking at the beautiful teen girl's body as she wrapped her arms around Gregg's bald head and kissed him passionately. As they made out, she made eye contact with the onlookers, deriving pleasure from the exposure.
"Hang tight for me, mister, I'm gonna take care of your friend and be back to cum all the way down your cock."
Her soft whispers found his ear, as she kissed him from cheek to back. She even bit him some along his throat, a favor he returned, as he grasped her hair and pulled her head back possessively.
"Hurry up, little slut-elf." He slapped her petite ass, Chelsea yelping with a smile, as she lifted herself and crawled over to Allen.
Placing her hands on the head rest, she lined herself over Allen's penis, kissing him as he aligned himself upright with the pretty hole above him.
"Santa... I want a baby for Christmas," she whispered and whined in Allen's ear, as he dipped into her. She lowered down onto him, a less than impressive girth compared to her experience, yet she gave him a bemoaned expression of pleasure nonetheless.
The chubby man looked gobsmacked by the feeling of Chelsea's tight slit enveloping him. Not the sensation either man woke up expecting on their two-hour flight to Palletain.
Palletain seemed to have given them a welcoming gift, as one of its very own daughters debased herself in front of the passengers of Flight 672 for the pleasure of two older men.
She, of course, was no less skilled with her lady parts than she was with her mouth. She hovered in Allen's lap, pressing her body against his gut as she swirled her hips up and down to rub his cock at an angle along her passage. It was like she was sucking up and down with her slit, from the full tightness of taking his entirety to the pinching sensation of her very edge-- Allen was at the precipice of absolute pleasure.
Chelsea kissed his forehead as his eyes rolled backwards, his tongue would slip out and take a few licks of her small breasts as he felt the need. But soon, her airplane-Santa-for-the-day would make her wish partially come true, at least the fantasy of it. He quickly unloaded an unprotected spew of cum into her young womb. She made it a point to sit fully onto him as he let loose, feeling his gooey ropes fill her. She measured just how much fun he had by the amount she gifted him.
The whole act had distracted her enough that she hardly noticed the turbulence had settled down. Now they were cruising softly through the air. A half-dozen passengers spread out in rows around them had turned their attention to the teen girl being used by her row-mates, as the moans filled up the economy section of the flight.
Some, mostly the men, looked excited about the show. Chelsea even saw a few rubbing at themselves as they admired her body and filming with their phones. Others looked disgusted. Her snooty friend, a half dozen rows up, was actively muttering and complaining about the spectacle as it went on.
A few had pressed the blue 'stewardess' button, the soft chime signaling their tattling, as they tried to keep their eyes off the naked girl.
"Ladies and gentlemen I see a few calling for assistance, however, the captain has not yet turned off the fasten-seatbelt sign. We will get you assistance as soon as we are able," the unknowing flight attendant announced over the PA, as the hateful woman loudly tsked and groaned. Her eyes looked over at the young teen, as she enjoyed the carnal attention, a glint of jealousy for the youthful exploration deep inside.
Chelsea smiled at the Karen and her wimpy husband next to her. The Karen suddenly noticed her husband gawking, slapping him on the chest after a bit of drool left his mouth.
She shared a few more kisses with Allen before lifting herself off. His head lay back in the headrest hard, as he looked spent.
"Thank you, Santa," she whispered in a cutesy voice, before standing on her knees back in her seat. She licked her lips as she stared at Gregg, whose thick cock still stood on end just begging her to hop on.
As he watched a steady stream of cum fall from between her legs, he looked around for something to clean her up with. But both giggled when the only thing they could come up with was the wrinkled copy of the Skymall magazine in the seat pocket in front of them. The front cover image of Santa was soon slathered in cum and lady juices as Chelsea giddily cleaned herself up.
It wasn't the most comfortable thing to put between her legs, but it got most of the cum from her lips. She bit her lip and looked at Gregg bashfully, as Allen pinched her ass.
"Is it okay?" she asked, her hand grabbing his cock and rubbing him up and down as if she was begging to take him.
"I couldn't say no to a cute elf like you."
"Yay!" She smiled, lifting her leg up and over his lap and once again lining herself up with his cock. She looked over to her frenemy a few rows up, sticking her tongue out and placing herself onto the older man's tip.
The lady's face seemed horrified as Chelsea held Gregg's cock in place and slammed herself onto it. Her head fell back erotically as she engulfed his length. She let out a stiff moan that could be heard up and down the aisle, and caused a few more who hadn't yet caught on to look back at them.
For the unsuspecting, they would be met with the sight of a young woman leaning with her back against the infotainment screen, grinding vigorously on a man who looked a few decades her senior. She sang slutty carols as it went on, the whole of the cabin looking hot or bothered.
Gregg had leaned in to take her breast fully in his mouth. They were small enough that he simply sucked on the whole thing, though her nub was the sweetest, as he twisted and nibbled on them each. Her moaning had gotten so out of control that they, and those around them, had hardly heard that the fasten-seatbelt sign had been turned off and refreshments were on their way.
Gregg and Chelsea certainly didn't care. Chelsea was too busy massaging her guts with his tree trunk.
As her college nickname alluded, Chelsea 'Choo-Choo' felt the train of her sex drive coming into the station with a whistle. Gregg's cock was fantastic, one for the books. The vibrations of the plane's engines added a special spice to the act. Chelsea always appreciated an audience, so that was little consequence to her at this stage in her sexual life.
Looking into Gregg's eyes, she moved deliberately around his rod, the pair not sharing in any words as they fucked. Chelsea did most of the work, slipping and sliding up and down, until she found herself quaking on the stranger's dick.
"Ooohhhh, sweetheart," Gregg groaned, as he felt her squeeze him, her orgasm intoxicating. The young lady felt a little limp as she enjoyed the moment, Gregg holding her against him, chest to chest. Soon, Chelsea stopped grinding altogether, just holding herself there on Gregg's cock as she finished.
Allen, looking spent, admired how juicy Chelsea looked as she got off. His hand grazing her bare side as she turned her head to him, looking just as spent, and attempted to smile.
Gregg patted her ass a few times, as he felt his climax just an inch away. "Darlin', do you have it in you to get me going?"
"Mmm-hmm," she moaned into his neck, as she lay limp against him. Tired from her ordeal of pleasing two older men.
"Well, don't mind me then, hun."
Gregg grabbed the girl's hips and began to lift her up and down like a puppet. She yelped a bit, as he firmly sat her against his stump each time, feeling out her pleasure box with the curve of his penis. She seemed exasperated as the groaning turned more feral. The few around them, both pleased and pissed, were drawn in for the climax of the spectacle.
The horrified prude in front of them was mashing the stewardess button at this point. The chime was in sync with the fucking.
But it didn't stop them. Chelsea was used like a toy, up and down his cock, until the man began to spew his load inside of her. His seed busted out between her pussy lips as the overfilled girl let him unload.
A squeaky wheel of the refreshment cart stopped just behind them as the stewardess walked backward. Ignorant of all that was transpiring, she began her routine spiel about what was available before even turning around.
"Would any of you like refreshments? We have coffee, tea, juice, FizzCola, and peanuts and pret--"
As she turned around, she was greeted by the teen girl nude on top of the cock of the scandalously older man; the girl's eyes barely open as she swam in the pleasure. The stewardess' mouth gaped at the hedonistic sight, and all Chelsea could do was smile at her.
"No thanks... I'm full." She ran a finger through a glob of cum and smacked it between the lips of her mouth, after which a gleeful smile arose, as the girl rested her head upon the man's shoulders.
And that's the story of how Adrian Air Flight 672 to Palletain got diverted into Glosten-Harpersville International. The nightly news coverage only dared to touch on the incident briefly, but the tabloids aptly covered the story as "Adrian Air flight lands prematurely as a woman gets a holiday train run on her... Mid-flight. Authorities are investigating."
This is meant to be one of what will be a series of "one-offs" featuring the titular character Cheslea "Choo-Choo" and her slut-tacular sexual escapades. I have written this one specifically for the winter writing event since I enjoy getting out there and participating with the community. Others will follow as I have ideas of what shenanigans she could get into.
Chelsea, an eighteen-year-old college drop-out from Palletain, is coming home for Christmas. However, Chelsea hates flying. How exactly will she distract herself? And will she fall into old habits?
Chelsea Choo-Choo the Christmas Flight Floozy
"Now boarding zone three for Adrian Air Flight 672 to Palletain, please check your boarding passes to confirm your zone right next to your seat number. Thank you, zone three."
Huffing and puffing Chelsea crouched at her waist and put her hands on her knees, as she finally found her gate. It was like the world was spinning around her as she ran full force through Isador International Airport, trying to find her connection to her hometown of Palletain.
It wasn't like she had a short layover, Chelsea's time management skills were just that bad. How could she have known that this airport would be a labyrinth of holiday travelers, gate numbers, stores, Christmas trees, and terminals? It was not as straight of a shot as she had thought, when she sat down at the airport bar an hour ago.
So, here it was, after leveraging her fake ID for a few shots, and a mile-long sprint through three terminals, she felt like collapsing next to the gate queue, just as they called her zone.
"Ma'am, are you on this flight?" The male gate attendant waved eagerly to her, almost hurrying her to board.
"Yes...I... Yes, I am." She struggled with her breathy words.
"Oh great, we are ready for ya, hun."
As the world ceased spinning, Chelsea began to see she was one of three people in Zone 3 boarding this flight. A stuffy-looking lady with a side-swept, can-I-speak-to-your-manager-type hairdo was scanning her boarding pass at the door as she scrunched her nose, pulling her wimp of a husband along behind her. She was bitching about something that a grown woman should have developed a coping mechanism for a decade ago, as they proceeded down the jetway. Mentally, Chelsea hoped that she was far away from that pair, less they smell the alcohol on her breath.
It was Chelsea's goal to make it home for Christmas without incident. It was her first time home in a year for her, and when she had left, it was not on the best of terms. Chelsea had a... reputation, that followed her and brought a level of angst to the family. Despite their judgment of her, she did miss them, and this trip was meant to reconcile some things. The fact she just ran up to her gate after drinking under the pretense of a fake ID wasn't exactly the best start, but she could recover from here.
Taking a deep breath, she sauntered up to the attendant and handed over her boarding pass to the aging man with the walrus mustache. She did her best to look sober, despite the less-than-graceful trip on the non-existent snag in the carpet, leading up to the scanner.
A few beeps later, she was cleared down the jetway.
"Have a wonderful flight, sweetie, Merry Christmas." The wrinkled man handed her back her boarding pass, stealing a look down her abdomen as a halo of skin peaked out around her waist.
"Merry Christmas, handsome!" Chelsea cocked a hip to the side in an overt gesture to be cute, as she gave the attendant a two-fingered salute before stepping down the length of the passage before her.
A brief look over her shoulder confirmed he was fully drinking her in. The shots were certainly catching up with her as she enjoyed the attention.
Chelsea hated flying, hence the reason she started this trip off with a drink. The thought of rising and falling constantly, and the hell it played on her equilibrium, reigned havoc on her stomach. It was less butterflies and more like a squadron of sparrows in her gut. At the door of the plane, a smiling flight attendant directed her with graceful hands down the center aisle towards the cheap-seats.
She gave Chelsea a strange look, more than likely because her face was as white as a sheet. Her eyes were wide as she felt dizzy stumbling down the aisle towards her seat, 20B.
As she tripped along and hit each aisle chair, and occasional passenger, like a ping-pong ball, the small girl noticed how few people were on the plane. It felt like only about two dozen or so, and many of the seats were left unoccupied as she passed rows and rows of emptiness.
Bumping into the snooty bitch she saw at the gate, she received an evil glare like a snake in the bushes being stepped on. Her face became scrunched, and as Chelsea moved on, muttering could be heard about her.
"Go off," Chelsea snorted all too loudly. A 'tsk' and a sharp head turn behind her, came from the subject of her ire.
Ahead, she saw two rather large men, one muscular and bald with tattoos along his arms, and the other fat and bald with a kind face. They were sitting on the aisle and window respectively. Glancing drunkenly at her ticket, she figured that with her luck she was right between them, and after a moment of thought, she felt it, indeed, was her luck.
As lustful thoughts ran through her head, the little devil in Chelsea's gut started to cackle, tickling the nerves in a special place. When she came to the row with the big men and realized it was indeed her own, she didn't hesitate, taking her seat right between them as she squeezed her small body, ass first, in front of the muscular man in the aisle seat.
A normal girl like her, cute, petite, and alone, would have grabbed one of the many empty rows to claim it for herself. No one would have told her to take her middle seat between two large and strange men, the flight attendants certainly wouldn't care. But Chelsea took it anyway, almost like she desired it, and that was because subconsciously, she did.
The muscular man was exactly her type, someone who looked like they could manhandle her, roughly rearrange her guts, and make her cream with a mean scowl. The fat man seemed sweet and was the type to be pretty thankful for what she had to give. Both had their place in Chelsea's sex-food pyramid.
Chelsea was a slut. A notorious slut. At the college she dropped out of rather quickly, she was known as 'Chelsea Choo-Choo' an apt name given for the trains run on her whenever she was given the chance. The proximity to man-meat made her shiver. Though a large part of her reputation in her home of Palletain was because of her promiscuity, she sat down in that middle seat anyway.
Snuggling in the seat, she wasn't shy about bumping arms with the larger and older men. She noticed the greying hair of the hot muscular man's beard. The heat coming off of them was like a drug to her.
They both were ignorant of her character, and more so annoyed that this girl didn't have the grace to find her own row.
"Hi, sorry, Merry Christmas." She cutely shrugged her shoulders as her flirtatious tone surprised them.
"Err, yeah, Merry Christmas." They both muttered, trying not to check her out.
She was cute, and had that going for her, but what unsuspecting stranger would think they were getting anything out of that? Unless they were extremely arrogant. Chelsea liked the unsuspecting strangers the most. An arrogant fool would take her for granted.
"Wait... damn." She grasped the armrests, her neighbors had surrendered so easily as she caught herself in the act. Both men looked at her peculiarly, as she voiced her thoughts out loud. How much more annoying could this girl get?
It was happening again, this was how she gets in trouble each time. She just sluts herself out whenever the chance is given. And coming home for the holidays for the first time, she wanted to come with a better impression, for her parents' sake.
Grasping the armrests, she closed her eyes and tried to think of anything but sex. Dolphins, the latest Sena Lark movie, Coastal Jazz, fun facts from her college Continental History Class, anything to keep her mind off of it.
But all that failed, as the plane began to lurch backward from the gate.
Chelsea let out an audible gasp. Both men on either side of her, looked at her and then at each other, but remained silent. As the plane taxied, her heart raced, thinking of what was about to be.
"Errrrr, ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, seems like it's our lucky day, we are first for takeoff here on our flight to Palletain. Weather is nice, not good beach weather nice, but good Holiday weather nice. Plus it's a bit cold outside. We'll hopefully arrive into Palletain in about two hours if we have a headwind, temperatures there are in the forties..."
Both men made a glance at Chelsea who wore a short, pleated skirt and a white tank top. Neither winter attire that looked warm. Chelsea's aura couldn't get any stranger.
"...we'll be taking off momentarily, and get everyone home for Christmas. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for departure."
This was it... the moment she dreaded. Chelsea white-knuckled the armrests on either side of her, as the plane turned and the engines whined. The whole aircraft lurched forward in such a violent way that Chelsea squinted her eyes and looked visibly disturbed. It was all happening, the lifting feeling as they flew into the air, her whole body tingled and felt flush as they soared.
Chelsea couldn't take it, she needed a distraction. At that moment, she decided to give in to the inevitable.
As they ascended into the air, the men, on her right and on the left, had begun to lean away from her. It was either out of politeness to her personal space, or just aversion to her unusual presence. There was a mild annoyance to her being there, but it was not like either of them had moved away yet. But then again, the fasten seatbelt sign was on, so they could very well have plans to.
To her left, the man with the big shoulders and tattoos arched his back uncomfortably. She needed to work fast if she wanted any sort of distraction to come of this.
"You don't have to worry about me," the small girl, squeezed between two very large men, squeaked, as she smiled at the one on her left. "I don't need much space." She smacked her lips as she said it, looking him up and down like her next meal, as she shifted excitedly in her seat.
They didn't look gay by any means, but the lords knew her radar for that was not finely tuned. As his eyes wandered to her, she caught him taking a peek down her tank top.
Bingo.
Chelsea knew she was validated at that point. Taking a slight peek, she didn't see any rings on fingers, not that it had stopped her before.
The big man to her left felt a bit more at ease and straightened his back, though he still didn't quite look normal. There was a tenseness about him, as he stole glances at the cute teen in 20B.
Looking over to her right, the chubby man there had a nervous expression, unsure if the invitation was for him as well. Chelsea felt a bit of the lift of the airplane and took a deep breath, the blood rushing to her head as she felt a light warmth and dizziness around her.
"You, too. I don't, bite I promise." She nudged him softly with her elbow, and a bright smile. However, a spot of turbulence wiped it off of her face, and her normally pink complexion with spots of freckles, was wiped away with a cold whiteness.
The man on the right obliged, both their shoulders squeezing her small frame in her seat.
"So do you both know each other?" Chelsea tried to break the ice as she took long, deep breaths.
"Yeah, Allen and I, here, went to school together back in the day."
"In Palletain?"
"No, actually in Klarkstown, we just both recently moved to Palletain."
"Oh, that's nice." She squeaked and clenched her eyes shut as her breathing got louder and more nervous with each bump and jerk of the plane.
"Don't like flying?" One asked her, looking concerned, as he stole a look at his friend. Both were being very polite with their girl-facing arms in their laps and allowing her access to the armrest.
"No... how can you tell?" She gulped and smiled, brushing the edges of her skirt she felt a cold draft along her legs, as the air began to flow better through the cabin.
"Sorry folks, we'll be going through a bit of turbulence on our ascent today." The garbled announcement over the PA by the pilot, did Chelsea little to reassure her nerves.
As the plane began to rock some more, dropping through an air pocket, Chelsea's hands clasped the men's arms on either side. Yanking them up, she placed them on the armrest with little resistance on their part, placing her arms atop and intertwining her fingers with each.
"Sorry... I hope you don't mind." She used her big, adorable eyes to plead with them as she tightened the grip of petite fingers. Both men looked chuffed to be of service, nodding and smiling their assurances to her that nothing bad was going to happen.
Chelsea loved the protecting nature of men, nothing turned her on more than that masculine need to look out for the cute, tiny female. Shifting in her seat, she took a sigh of relief as they rode the waves of turbulence upwards. Resting against either of their arms, she didn't hold back her willingness to nuzzle against them, her small breasts grazing their forearms through her thin tank top.
"Thanks, boys... you don't know how much this means to me." She squeezed their hands softly and caressed their thumbs with her own. She milked it for all she could.
"I'm Chelsea by the way," she said, as she laid her dirty-blonde head against the muscular forearm of the man on her left.
"Gregg," he responded with a crack, a bit taken aback by her unabashed friendliness.
"And I'm Allen," the other said, Chelsea rubbing his arm up and down in a massaging motion.
"Do you fly a lot?" Gregg asked, looking down at the girl's dimpled face, as she laid her cheek on his bicep.
"I try not to." She giggled before a sudden drop of the plane and the whine of the engine caused her to squeak.
"What brings you on this one?" Albert laughed, as he patted her arm and rubbed it from her hand to her elbow in an attempt to distract her.
Chelsea smiled, it seemed the feeling was mutual.
"Uh, going home, to see my parents for Christmas." She clenched their hands as the overhead bins rattled.
"Holiday break from college?" Gregg looked around the plane, wondering if anyone could see them intimately holding hands with this girl.
"Heh... no, can't say I am doing that well, I dropped out." Chelsea reflected on her life as a vagabond as of late, living off whatever whim or fancy she had from place to place. She hadn't told her parents about leaving college; eventually, on this visit home, they would find out, but that was a problem for another day.
For right then, this was the life she wanted, and the one she enjoyed, going from place to place and living 'off the land'. Little trysts like these she was about to engage in were just the highlight.
"So, what do you do?" Allen sat forward, looking the girl up and down curiously, wondering what she was about.
Chelsea smiled at him, a suggestiveness to her expression, as he asked such an open-ended question. "A little bit of everything." She squirmed cutely in her seat.
"Oh? That's vague..."
"Curious?" She whipped her head to Gregg, her hair brushing his arm as she smiled up at the much larger man, her neck arched to look him eye to eye.
"Now I am." He leaned forward to look at her. The middle-seat girl sat back, with curious men on either side of her.
"Well." She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Last thing I did was a mall Santa's elf."
"Oh?"
"Ho-ho."
"Yes, That's right." She giggled as they teased her.
"Did you wear the ears?" Allen felt brave enough to pluck at the top of Chelsea's ear, who in turn flirtatiously scowled at him.
"Oh, I look super cute in pointy ears."
"I can't picture it." Gregg seemed to egg her on.
"Yeah, I don't quite believe it." Allen joined in his skepticism.
Chelsea giggled some more, freeing one of her hands to take out her phone from her bag. Playfully, she held the phone close as if she had something naughty to hide in her photo gallery, her eyes peering over her phone case at the curious men to tease them.
A jolt of turbulence caused her to lose the grip on her phone, the unlocked zPhone falling into Allen's lap.
"Oh, let's see." He picked it up slowly, giving her ample opportunity to grab it back if she didn't want him to see.
Chelsea made little effort to retrieve it. "Noooo, give it back." She feigned embarrassment as she held her hands against her blushing cheeks.
"Let's seeeee." Allen took a look at the picture she had up. It was a group photo of several elf girls and Santa in the mall, Chelsea sticking out by far. He turned the photo to Gregg and nodded, impressed.
"You do make a cute elf." Gregg agreed, as he looked at the dramatic pose Chelsea made in the photo, clinging to the lucky mall Santa. The other girls were not even half as alluring.
"Let's see what else." Allen looked to Chelsea to see if she would object before swiping to the next photo. Chelsea simply bit her lip, holding on to Gregg's arm as the plane still rocked.
Magically, the horrible sensation of flight was in the back of her mind.
After a few more photos with Santa, some of which Chelsea stood, VERY, provocatively with Father Christmas, Gregg laughed.
"I bet Santa appreciated his little helper." Gregg's teasing became a little more forward.
Chelsea smiled. He had no idea how far towards the top of the Naughty List she was.
As Allen joined in the teasing, Chelsea reflected on how the older men needed little encouragement to get flirty with her. Although Chelsea usually enjoyed a good chase, the nerves of being on this rocky plane made her appreciate how easy this was coming.
"Let's see what else?" Allen looked at her, again seeking approval, but not moving 'til he heard something definite.
"You have the phone." Chelsea scooted up in her chair and scrunched her nose, as she acted embarrassed and nodded.
Another swipe and a different kind of picture was on the screen. This time, Chelsea was in front of a changing-room mirror with her elf costume, her green skirt with red trim riding a little high as her asscheeks peeked out below.
"Oh my god," Allen blurted out, his eyes wide. Gregg nearly leaned across Chelsea to get a look. Both men lost their senses for a moment, as they lapped up the imagery. Allen quickly handed the phone back to Chelsea, a touch embarrassed.
Chelsea took the phone, admiring how nice her ass looked for a second before tucking the screen close to her chest and blushing.
"Sorry." Allen held his hands up apologetically.
"It's okay." Chelsea laughed at the situation. "I have worse that you didn't see." She gave him a flirtatious glare.
Allen was still red, and Gregg was coughing, a bit stunned at how flirty the girl was getting. Chelsea sensed she may need to slow her approach, though she was yearning to get this going; each time the plane shook, she held on to Gregg's hand harder.
"Deep breaths," Gregg told her, as he patted her hand.
Chelsea wondered if he would be saying that to her in another context soon. She looked at his crotch and hoped he packed as much as she thought he did.
Arching her head up, she looked around the plane. Their row was isolated from the sparse pockets of other passengers. The snuffy lady from earlier and her husband, a half dozen rows up, were the nearest people.
"So what do you do when it's not elf season?" Gregg changed the subject.
"She goes to the North Pole, of course," Allen joked.
The trio laughed together, Chelsea especially. Allen didn't know how close he was with the pole part in a few contexts.
"Well... aside from that, I was practicing massage therapy for a bit."
"Really? A small thing like you?" Gregg seemed skeptical.
"I'd surprise you." Chelsea didn't even wait to be invited, running her hand up Gregg's shoulder and pinching it up and down.
Gregg oohed at the sensation, the tension leaving his shoulder as she pinched it toughly.
"You are good."
"Mmm-hmmm!" Chelsea kept going, her hand around the back of his neck pinching it up and down.
"Ladies and gentlemen, here from the flight deck, it's going to be a bit of a rough flight to Palletain, a storm system is moving across the west and it doesn't seem like we will be turning the fasten-seatbelt sign off any time soon. Hang tight and we will try and get you refreshments in due time."
Chelsea huffed and closed her eyes nervously. It was going to be a rough one, she needed these boys to step it up and distract her.
"Hey, Gregg."
"Yeah...?" He soothingly answered her, as her hand pinched his shoulder muscle. Allen looked jealous as he sat next to her.
"I'd hate to make you uneven, do you mind?"
"Mind wha--?"
Chelsea unclipped her belt buckle and swung her leg over the older man's lap. Sitting above his crotch she straddled him, her small body against his, as she strategically and subtly rubbed his crotch with her own.
Gregg was too stunned to speak, looking straight at the tiny breasts beneath the girl's top, the blue skirt spread out over his lap, and smooth legs on either side of him.
"I want to just even you out over your other shoulder." Chelsea began to work on his opposite shoulder, both hands kneading his flesh, as he groaned.
"Allen, don't worry, I'll do you next." Her tongue snapped on the 'do' part. Her eyes looked sideways to him.
She looked around the aircraft to see if anyone noticed. Thus far, they hadn't. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate a good audience, but she didn't want her party to be broken up prematurely.
The plane rocked hard, making Chelsea rise from Gregg's lap a bit before pushing her back down against him. She held on to the larger man tightly, pressing her body against his as they rode out the turbulent patch.
"Gregg..."
"Yeah?" His hands were up and away from her, afraid to touch her, despite how she ground against him with each bit of turbulence they hit.
"Hold on to me please, I don't want to end up on the ceiling today," she whined into his shoulder and grabbed on to his hands. Placing them on either side of her hips, she pushed them against her and held them there for a moment, as she breathed.
"Yeah.. yeah..." Gregg instinctively reassured her, by grazing his thumbs, arousing the seam of her tank top, teasing a small sliver of skin.
"Thank you." Chelsea kissed Gregg on the cheek, and went back to work on his shoulder.
Allen was salivating by this time. Eager for his turn.
"Hey, darlin'." Gregg rubbed his hands up and down her sides, daring to be more forward. Chelsea smiled in response.
"Yes, dear?" She looked him dead in the eyes.
"How old are you?" Gregg stared at her deeply with a serious expression.
Chelsea blushed. "Eighteen."
Gregg groaned, shaking his head. He took his hands off her petite hips and hovered them a few inches above.
"I don't believe you."
Allen shook his head and laughed.
"Why because I am tiny and cute?" Chelsea put her hands around Gregg's neck and whipped her hair around. She had a devious glare about her as she looked deep into his eyes.
"Prove it." He squinted at her.
Leaning over, crotch still on his, she grabbed her wallet from her purse. With a bit of fumbling, she slipped her government-issued ID out of its sleeve and held it in front of Greg's face.
"See." The date confirmed she turned eighteen seven months ago.
"How do I know it's not a fake?"
"Does it matter?" She looked at him knowingly. Wrapping her arms around his neck.
She knew it was soon going to get interesting with this line of questioning. She didn't blame him for being cautious, more men should, she was certainly very petite and cutesy for her age. She admired his desire to be honest at the very least.
"Yes..." he said with a serious tone, taking her arms from around his neck and holding them in front of her. He looked like he was going to ask her to get off, and Allen looked tense awaiting her answer.
But Chelsea just smiled, reaching into her wallet again, still in Gregg's lap. A bit of her stomach appeared beneath her shirt as it rode up her body while reaching, and the waistband of her skirt opened slightly to tease at the darkness that lay beneath her.
Both Gregg and Allen looked at each other, as they tried not to ogle her too much before knowing. But before long, the giddy Chelsea popped back up straight and held out another ID.
"That one isn't fake, because this one is." She held forth another ID with her image, the date claiming she turned twenty-one seven months ago.
Biting her lip, she held it proudly and awaited their response, both men smiling as the plane rocked a bit more, the vibrations sending sensations through both Chelsea and Gregg's crotches.
Gregg put his hands back on her hips, tighter this time. "I'm still a bit stiff over here." He motioned to his shoulder. "But don't worry, I won't let you go... anywhere." He probed forward with her, all their words carrying a suggestion of intention.
Hands back to his shoulders, she put her back into it this time, pulling herself up just slightly almost as if to tease Gregg as she pushed down on his shoulder. Gregg held her there, less to make sure the turbulence didn't take her, and more so to ensure she knew she wasn't going to tease him without a price.
"You know I'm much older than you, sweetie." He rubbed his fingers along a bare patch of skin at her waistband.
"Mm-hmm, how old?" She plopped herself back down on him, feeling a growing bulge beneath her as she slightly rubbed him down with a swish of her hips.
Allen and Gregg exchanged a look, as they caught on to exactly what this girl wanted.
"I'm forty-five... Allen, here, is forty-two."
"Mmmmm, very nice." Chelsea traced his scapula with her thumb firmly, her body pressed against his, her shirt riding up her back enough that the crack of her ass could be seen.
"And that doesn't bug you?"
"I give massages to lots of different people." Chelsea smiled and rubbed.
"I think it's a bit more than that, isn't it?"
"Oh?"
Gregg gave her a coy look.
With a sudden yelp from Chelsea and a creak of the aircraft, the plane dropped a few hundred feet at once as it found an air pocket. Chelsea latched on to Gregg hard, in a panic, and feeling lightheaded as the plane caught itself.
"Sorry, folks, just hit an air pocket." The pilot apologized in a garble.
Chelsea began to grind her core against Greg as she hugged her body against him. Roughly, she twerked her hips back and forth to give her the sensation of his bulge, anything to distract her.
"Whoa there, sweetie."
"I hate flying... okay, I need the distraction." She took a long stroke across his lap before sitting up.
"I had the whole plane to sit, and I chose to sit between you two, so does that answer your question?"
"You are pretty forward for a young lady."
"Maybe I just know what I want?" Chelsea took her hands and lifted her blue pleated skirt. Underneath, it was revealed she was not wearing any panties, her bare and plump slit glistened with arousal against Gregg's trousers, where a dark patch of moisture sat atop his bulge.
She let Gregg and Allen take a good look at her lady parts, and they took their time inspecting her. Allen even pulled aside more of her skirt fabric for a better view.
"Do you just go around wearing no panties in a mini-skirt all the time?"
"A lot of the time, yeah."
"Jesus, girl..."
"Don't know him," she replied, coyly. "Besides, isn't that the whole point of a skirt? Easy access?"
"I think your cute little mind is warped, sweetie."
"Are you really complaining?" She rubbed him up and down some more. The shaking of the plane caused her to whine as she massaged his shoulders. They draped her skirt upwards to give them a full view of her slit. A few times, Gregg took the liberty to brush his thumb along her bare mound and labia, Chelsea always humming her approval.
"Not at all, just... surprised."
"Good." She leaned down, kissing Gregg's neck before lifting her legs up and over to hop the empty seat between the men and straddle Allen next to the window. He was a bit more of a challenge, his big belly more of a cushion, but she quickly got to work on his shoulders and started grinding against his crotch as well. She could feel he was already at full mast; she happy to have this effect on them during the flight.
"Hold me, Allen." She still felt afraid of the constant bumps and turns the plane was making.
Allen hesitated, at first, but obliged by placing his hands underneath her skirt on her waist. As she kneaded his shoulders and neck, he kneaded her ass, albeit a little bit less gracefully.
This one seemed embarrassed that this beautiful eighteen-year-old was sitting, grinding in his lap, like he was unworthy. Unlike the muscular Gregg, who had confidence about him, Allen seemed to hesitate.
Chelsea loved to boost confidence, especially of unsuspecting men. She granted him a few lip bites and 'oh' faces, as she ground against his crotch, showing him she enjoyed it as much as he did, which was hardly a lie.
"You seem pretty eager." His hand crept underneath her ass, a finger slipping between her cheeks and finding her moist lips beneath.
"Mmm-hmmm."
"Even for a fat guy like me?"
"I told you Santa was very happy with me." She leaned into Allen's lips and met him for a passionate kiss, swapping spit with the older man for a time, as the plane rubbed them together. The shaking plane still stole the color from her face, but the heat and passion kept her focused on something more enjoyable than her fear.
"Ho-ho..." Allen jested with the girl, as she bit her lip and toyed with the bottom of her tank top. Gregg had sat back and admired the show, bewildered by their luck, not only to be on a nearly empty plane, but alone with a beautiful young lady.
"Before it gets much bumpier, let me do this." Chelsea lifted the tank top up and over her head, her petite body more visible as only her sports bra remained on her upper half. She, of course, wasted no time remedying that. She slipped the spandex fabric off behind her tank top and let her small breasts be free and out in the open.
"Hello..." both men said in unison, looking at her barely legal tits free of any sag or wrinkle. They sat there with as much elasticity as they would have imagined. Cute pink nipples positioned atop them and pointing out with as much eagerness as their owner.
"This is the part where I let you distract me from the crazy airplane any-y-ywa-a-ay you want," she said with urgency, as both men simply gawked at her.
Gregg wasted no time, whipping out something special for her from his pants, as they positioned both armrests in the upright position. Allen followed suit, though he was right beneath her, his cock lined against her mound, standing tall, as she ground on him.
"Good boys." She smiled and lowered herself horizontally across their laps. Her lower half stuck with Allen, her leg in a triangle on his lap giving full access to her lady parts. Her head lined up with Gregg's cock. Which, much like his arms, was veiny and thick
"Merry Christmas to us..." Allen unzipped the side of Chelsea's pleated skirt and began to slip it down her legs. Unwrapping the teen was then the highlight of his holiday, as he tugged the fabric off her hips and down her long, slender legs.
Meanwhile, Chelsea needed an escape from the rumblings of the plane. The jittering of the wings made a disconcerting shaking sound, and not being buckled in her seat, she welcomed being touched and held on to as much as the boys could offer. Gregg and his veiny arms, of course, held her best, groping her small tits and toying with her nipples. His other hand held on to her hair, pulling it back from her face as she began to make out with the underside of his cock.
"Whoa... good little elf," he said, as she hit every sensitive spot of his stem. He admired her glistening slit as Allen rid her of her skirt.
With each patch of turbulence, Chelsea did the best work. Grinding her hips against an all-the-more intruding index finger from Allen, and taking Gregg's cock in her mouth with tenacity. Pushing herself against Allen's fingers, she felt him probing around her rough interior, toying with all the parts of her channel to his own pleasure as she circled her hips around his finger. With Gregg's cock in her mouth, she soon reached for Allen's hand and lifted a second finger, a clear signal she wanted a bit more attention downstairs.
"What a good, little slut elf," he lustfully demeaned her in a soft tone, so as to not arouse suspicion from the flight crew or other passengers. The only arousal here would be the trio immersed in their lust.
Chelsea took her mouth off of Gregg's cock for a moment, and gave Allen a big, toothy smile. She emanated being the bestest-good-girl she could be, always eager to please. It was part of the intoxication to her, seeing the satisfaction from the men she gave herself to. While she may not have a steady professional occupation, being a slut certainly was a passion for her. There was no better way to start the holidays. These two older men on the plane were an appetizer for what was to come in her hometown.
For a small moment, Chelsea realized that if she did go home and start trouble again with her antics, her parents wouldn't forgive her. Her mind trailed off, until Gregg lifted her head by the hair so she was at the cusp of swallowing him. She smiled as she returned to the moment, kissing his tip.
As she lay across their laps, naked, the plane banked steeply, causing Chelsea's head to spin. Her mind wandered, fear creeping in until she put her mouth back on Gregg's manhood and took his full length. While she felt dizzy, the gagging made her lose sense of all of the unpleasantness, trying to distract her from the flight.
"God, you shouldn't know how to do that," Gregg groaned, as he caressed Chelsea's sweet face, admiring her bright eyes, cute cheeks, and dirty-blonde hair. He saw how the young lady had laid her head in his lap, enjoying his cock deep in her throat, with little thought to how deep it went. With her size, it had to be pretty far down, her temperament meant this was certainly nowhere near the first penis she had known.
Retracting, the saliva-coated length of Gregg's cock emerged from her pink, smiling lips. As she reached the tip, she left it with a kiss, smiling as she sat up to flip around and give Allen the same attention.
"Wow, aren't you a crowd-pleaser?" Gregg bitterly jested, as he was left cold with only her pussy to admire.
Allen, of course, was pleased to have the teen kissing his stem. She looked him over as she rubbed him between her fingers. His cock needed a bit more encouragement and certainly didn't have the yield that Gregg's did. But it was a distraction enough from the surrounding metal tube that hurtled through the air.
He grabbed handfuls of her hair, until it was all out of her face and under his control. A bit of a tight grip saw him pulling her head back as she made a pass of her mouth along his shaft. She had a much easier time getting down it, grasping his sack in her hand as she kissed his base. A small gag from a small throat made him tingle, as she looked up at him for affirmation.
Given his girth in comparison, Chelsea wondered if Allen would be distraction enough. However, Gregg made up for it with a few bites of her calf as he lifted her leg high. He was enjoying the taste of her young supple skin along her slender leg. His teeth danced around the thick of it and his tongue placed glistening trails. Her sweet, sweet taste drove him mad, as he explored her lower body as it sat across his lap like an in-flight meal.
"Girly, either we crashed and I am in heaven, or god bless your libido."
Chelsea giggled around Allen's cock, as she thought the same. She certainly never faulted god for her sex drive and the adventures that came with it.
"Ohhhhahhh!" Her moan echoed around the airplane as some of the sparse passengers raised their heads above the headrests to see what was going on. A barefoot leg from the girl hanging out into the aisle would be the only clue to the debauchery that was going on in row 20ABC.
Gregg had burrowed two fingers to the knuckle into her young snatch. He made the classic 'come hither' motion along the top of her vagina, as he found the bundle of pleasure nerves there at her core. Her toes curled with pleasure as she appreciated Gregg and the way he operated. Chelsea had a good idea of which cock she wanted to cum on.
Of course, with her being a perfectionist, that meant she needed to get the chubby man off first and quickly. Her mouth would be the key to making it happen, as she redoubled her efforts and danced her head up and down his shaft.
"Hey, you look a bit more excited over there than before." Gregg rubbed his thumb along her hood as his fingers still wriggled inside of her. She could hardly stop herself from making noise at this point. What did it matter if others heard? The plane was in the air, what would they do? Kick her off?
Allen began to groan just as loud. Her mouth was making the sloppiest of noises with each pass, the men being driven into a sexual fit as their hands groped, grabbed, and pinched every bit of her slender body. She felt Gregg even tugging at her labia with his index and thumb, as he investigated her fresh and tight bits. She liked how aggressive he played, certainly much more adept at handling a woman.
But guys like Allen were fun, too; they were always as eager to please as she was. Of course, Allen could please her the most by cumming quickly, so she could hop on Gregg's thick dick.
"Okay... this little elf needs something more than some fingers in her pussy." She sat up, fully in Gregg's lap as she pressed her naked body against him.
Naked, she could be seen pretty clearly above the seat rests. Several men, a few rows back, were gawking at the beautiful teen girl's body as she wrapped her arms around Gregg's bald head and kissed him passionately. As they made out, she made eye contact with the onlookers, deriving pleasure from the exposure.
"Hang tight for me, mister, I'm gonna take care of your friend and be back to cum all the way down your cock."
Her soft whispers found his ear, as she kissed him from cheek to back. She even bit him some along his throat, a favor he returned, as he grasped her hair and pulled her head back possessively.
"Hurry up, little slut-elf." He slapped her petite ass, Chelsea yelping with a smile, as she lifted herself and crawled over to Allen.
Placing her hands on the head rest, she lined herself over Allen's penis, kissing him as he aligned himself upright with the pretty hole above him.
"Santa... I want a baby for Christmas," she whispered and whined in Allen's ear, as he dipped into her. She lowered down onto him, a less than impressive girth compared to her experience, yet she gave him a bemoaned expression of pleasure nonetheless.
The chubby man looked gobsmacked by the feeling of Chelsea's tight slit enveloping him. Not the sensation either man woke up expecting on their two-hour flight to Palletain.
Palletain seemed to have given them a welcoming gift, as one of its very own daughters debased herself in front of the passengers of Flight 672 for the pleasure of two older men.
She, of course, was no less skilled with her lady parts than she was with her mouth. She hovered in Allen's lap, pressing her body against his gut as she swirled her hips up and down to rub his cock at an angle along her passage. It was like she was sucking up and down with her slit, from the full tightness of taking his entirety to the pinching sensation of her very edge-- Allen was at the precipice of absolute pleasure.
Chelsea kissed his forehead as his eyes rolled backwards, his tongue would slip out and take a few licks of her small breasts as he felt the need. But soon, her airplane-Santa-for-the-day would make her wish partially come true, at least the fantasy of it. He quickly unloaded an unprotected spew of cum into her young womb. She made it a point to sit fully onto him as he let loose, feeling his gooey ropes fill her. She measured just how much fun he had by the amount she gifted him.
The whole act had distracted her enough that she hardly noticed the turbulence had settled down. Now they were cruising softly through the air. A half-dozen passengers spread out in rows around them had turned their attention to the teen girl being used by her row-mates, as the moans filled up the economy section of the flight.
Some, mostly the men, looked excited about the show. Chelsea even saw a few rubbing at themselves as they admired her body and filming with their phones. Others looked disgusted. Her snooty friend, a half dozen rows up, was actively muttering and complaining about the spectacle as it went on.
A few had pressed the blue 'stewardess' button, the soft chime signaling their tattling, as they tried to keep their eyes off the naked girl.
"Ladies and gentlemen I see a few calling for assistance, however, the captain has not yet turned off the fasten-seatbelt sign. We will get you assistance as soon as we are able," the unknowing flight attendant announced over the PA, as the hateful woman loudly tsked and groaned. Her eyes looked over at the young teen, as she enjoyed the carnal attention, a glint of jealousy for the youthful exploration deep inside.
Chelsea smiled at the Karen and her wimpy husband next to her. The Karen suddenly noticed her husband gawking, slapping him on the chest after a bit of drool left his mouth.
She shared a few more kisses with Allen before lifting herself off. His head lay back in the headrest hard, as he looked spent.
"Thank you, Santa," she whispered in a cutesy voice, before standing on her knees back in her seat. She licked her lips as she stared at Gregg, whose thick cock still stood on end just begging her to hop on.
As he watched a steady stream of cum fall from between her legs, he looked around for something to clean her up with. But both giggled when the only thing they could come up with was the wrinkled copy of the Skymall magazine in the seat pocket in front of them. The front cover image of Santa was soon slathered in cum and lady juices as Chelsea giddily cleaned herself up.
It wasn't the most comfortable thing to put between her legs, but it got most of the cum from her lips. She bit her lip and looked at Gregg bashfully, as Allen pinched her ass.
"Is it okay?" she asked, her hand grabbing his cock and rubbing him up and down as if she was begging to take him.
"I couldn't say no to a cute elf like you."
"Yay!" She smiled, lifting her leg up and over his lap and once again lining herself up with his cock. She looked over to her frenemy a few rows up, sticking her tongue out and placing herself onto the older man's tip.
The lady's face seemed horrified as Chelsea held Gregg's cock in place and slammed herself onto it. Her head fell back erotically as she engulfed his length. She let out a stiff moan that could be heard up and down the aisle, and caused a few more who hadn't yet caught on to look back at them.
For the unsuspecting, they would be met with the sight of a young woman leaning with her back against the infotainment screen, grinding vigorously on a man who looked a few decades her senior. She sang slutty carols as it went on, the whole of the cabin looking hot or bothered.
Gregg had leaned in to take her breast fully in his mouth. They were small enough that he simply sucked on the whole thing, though her nub was the sweetest, as he twisted and nibbled on them each. Her moaning had gotten so out of control that they, and those around them, had hardly heard that the fasten-seatbelt sign had been turned off and refreshments were on their way.
Gregg and Chelsea certainly didn't care. Chelsea was too busy massaging her guts with his tree trunk.
As her college nickname alluded, Chelsea 'Choo-Choo' felt the train of her sex drive coming into the station with a whistle. Gregg's cock was fantastic, one for the books. The vibrations of the plane's engines added a special spice to the act. Chelsea always appreciated an audience, so that was little consequence to her at this stage in her sexual life.
Looking into Gregg's eyes, she moved deliberately around his rod, the pair not sharing in any words as they fucked. Chelsea did most of the work, slipping and sliding up and down, until she found herself quaking on the stranger's dick.
"Ooohhhh, sweetheart," Gregg groaned, as he felt her squeeze him, her orgasm intoxicating. The young lady felt a little limp as she enjoyed the moment, Gregg holding her against him, chest to chest. Soon, Chelsea stopped grinding altogether, just holding herself there on Gregg's cock as she finished.
Allen, looking spent, admired how juicy Chelsea looked as she got off. His hand grazing her bare side as she turned her head to him, looking just as spent, and attempted to smile.
Gregg patted her ass a few times, as he felt his climax just an inch away. "Darlin', do you have it in you to get me going?"
"Mmm-hmm," she moaned into his neck, as she lay limp against him. Tired from her ordeal of pleasing two older men.
"Well, don't mind me then, hun."
Gregg grabbed the girl's hips and began to lift her up and down like a puppet. She yelped a bit, as he firmly sat her against his stump each time, feeling out her pleasure box with the curve of his penis. She seemed exasperated as the groaning turned more feral. The few around them, both pleased and pissed, were drawn in for the climax of the spectacle.
The horrified prude in front of them was mashing the stewardess button at this point. The chime was in sync with the fucking.
But it didn't stop them. Chelsea was used like a toy, up and down his cock, until the man began to spew his load inside of her. His seed busted out between her pussy lips as the overfilled girl let him unload.
A squeaky wheel of the refreshment cart stopped just behind them as the stewardess walked backward. Ignorant of all that was transpiring, she began her routine spiel about what was available before even turning around.
"Would any of you like refreshments? We have coffee, tea, juice, FizzCola, and peanuts and pret--"
As she turned around, she was greeted by the teen girl nude on top of the cock of the scandalously older man; the girl's eyes barely open as she swam in the pleasure. The stewardess' mouth gaped at the hedonistic sight, and all Chelsea could do was smile at her.
"No thanks... I'm full." She ran a finger through a glob of cum and smacked it between the lips of her mouth, after which a gleeful smile arose, as the girl rested her head upon the man's shoulders.
And that's the story of how Adrian Air Flight 672 to Palletain got diverted into Glosten-Harpersville International. The nightly news coverage only dared to touch on the incident briefly, but the tabloids aptly covered the story as "Adrian Air flight lands prematurely as a woman gets a holiday train run on her... Mid-flight. Authorities are investigating."
