Initially, My Experience Took Place on an Aircraft
Similar to my other tales, this story was inspired by real-life events. Names and particulars have been modified to protect those concerned.
I've always been an introverted guy. I had a youth spent as an accomplished scholar; exceeding academically but seldom connecting with the popular crowd at school. My upbringing left me unaccustomed to dating. At the time, my sexuality was unequivocally heterosexual.
My summers throughout high school were spent at Air Cadet camps, which spanned from grade seven to twelve. When one comes of age, one transitions from being a cadet to a counsellor, referred to as a staff cadet. However, unlike the day cadets, we had a six-week summer camp called Senior Leaders (now altered in both name and curriculum). This camp entailed marching, attending lessons, instruction in drill, competing in drill competitions, and weekly inspection parades followed by a graduation parade.
The adults in charge were categorized into two classes. Since Air Cadets can serve until they're 19, one could either be a staff cadet like myself, unlikely to continue, or one could be a legit officer, and potentially serve until retirement in the Canadian military.
This story doesn't involve cadets; instead, it's centered around our journey home. We caught buses to the province's capital to board the same aircraft that brought us to the base. That summer, I was stationed at 4 Wing Cold Lake. Notably, this base has four fighter squadrons - two active and two training. This meant that the summer was frequently punctuated by glimpses of CF-18 fighter jets soaring past, inevitably followed by a deafening sonic boom.
Our travel there and back was identical in sequence, aside from the reversal of events. Upon arrival, we were sorted into squads for kit checks (inspections), supplies (for acquiring summer uniforms), and assignments into the barracks.
Summer flew by quickly. Rousing at 6 am daily, our timetables were packed with activities, leaving little room for a social life.
At the summer's end, courses concluded, and Air Cadets returned to their towns and cities. The adult staff began dismantling classrooms and barracks in preparation for our departure.
I recall convening with my transportation group on our way back to my home province. Among the group were fellow staffers I had met fleetingly on the way there, as we arrived on the same plane. One in particular stood out. She stood at approximately 5'7", with rounded cheeks and captivating dimples; the glasses that adorned her face obscuring her luscious pale green eyes. Her dark hair was invariably secured in a bun, as required by military code. To this day, when I see a woman's hair in a tight bun, I'm filled with excitement. Though she maintained an upright demeanor and a fantastic smile, her naughty librarian persona shone through.
Her name was Artemis, and just like the Greek goddess who bore her name, she was out of my league. She was enamoured with a guy who had broad shoulders and a charming grin. They were planning their left field makeouts at the canteen when they saw an opportunity (fraternization in the military was frowned upon). From my perspective, he was just another playboy in search of a conquest.
Luckily for me, we had to group back into our travellers, so the triangle between Artemis, me, and her lover ensued. As summer ended and we prepared to return to our respective colleges, universities, and first real full-time jobs, Artemis had to depart from the man she was genuinely enamoured with. He sported a wide grin and broad shoulders. They were romantically connecting at the canteen when they could, with his alleged attentions towards Artemis. As I beheld this flirtation, I considered him simply seeking action.
Luckily for me, we had to re-form into our respective travel groups, offering Artemis and me the last summer journeying home together.
We donned our full-dress uniforms for our return, with our bags at the ready, awaiting pickup. The bus would arrive soon, yet our flight departed at 1:30 AM (flying teenagers on the red eye is an economic strategy by the government). It was already dark by 10:00, and the dress uniforms afforded little warmth.
Gathered as a group to stay warm, we waited for the bus while shivering in the chilly winds. Cold Lake indeed lives up to its name. Artemis, the prettiest girl in the bunch, had her hair put up in a neat bun, showcasing her radiant eyes peeking through tiny round glasses and a firm derriere. Not easy to avert our gaze when she turned around.
When the bus was late, Artemis motioned me to come closer, offering a warm embrace to keep our bodies from shaking. I initially thought she simply wanted to share warmth but as soon as we wrapped our arms around each other, I knew my virginal instincts would be challenged.
Feeling her chest, even through our military uniforms, the frail material of the tunics offered enough contact to feel the softness of her breasts. The scent of her hair wafted up from the collar of her tunic, either from hair gel or hair spray - unnecessary in the military. Apart from that, another aroma caught my attention - either perfume or body spray, and it was highly seductive in that instant.
Our bodies pressed against each other. The urge to place my hands below the tight rear end was strong, but I resisted. Instead, we remained huddled in the wind, shaking off the cold.
Little did I know my body had other plans. Amidst this blessing of warmth, I felt mymember spring to life, creating an irritating sensation of discomfort but also an immense pleasure. The force of attraction became undeniable, and Artemis had noticed.
When she looked at me with a mix of surprise and amusement in her eyes, I completely understood what was happening. She giggled a little, then surprised me. She pulled me back in and began pressing her pelvis against mine.
We were no longer just friends. With the unexpected titillation, we were a pair of hot and bothered youngsters trying to act normal while our intimate dance continued. I could feel myself close to the brink of overflowing my pants, wondering if it would've been worth it if I were to lose my load there.
At long last, the bus skirted into the parking lot, and we collected our luggage and boarded the vehicle. Sitting at the back, we sat in each other's laps, faces just inches away. My body moved up slightly while hers leaned back, giving us the perfect opportunity to express our desires as we grinded within the pretty tight crowd.
The sensuality radiating from her was truly mesmerizing. It was evident that my cock wasn't the only one who found the flirtatious grind appealing. The guy who had been hovering around earlier was now rewarded for his persistence. And we didn't care.
Before long, the bus pulled up in front of the airport, and we were blessed with an unexpected opportunity. Still holding hands, I removed my tunic as a shield against any potential observation, and Artemis shifted to face me, her mouth mere centimeters away. While seated shoulder to shoulder, her touch began to wander up my shirt, reaching for my zipper. My assistance in unzipping my pants allowed her easy access to my now rock hard member. Taking her time, she slowly started stroking it.
Within the semi-darkness of the plane, she continued her caress. At one point, she even loosened her belt and arranged her body more comfortably. Our hands explored and violated each other's thighs, unapologetically.
As the plane taxied down the runway, the flight attendants turned off the cabin lights to facilitate sleep. I felt her fingers unfastening my zipper, and I tend to my own task to save her whatever little embarrassment she might feel. She reached in and pulled my now erect penis from its encasement. The sensation was incredible, as it was the first time a woman had ever touched me that way. Although the image of her stretching across my lap attracted some attention, I couldn't suppress a smile, knowing that it would have gone down in history as an intriguing flight story.
I face her to share a tender kiss. Not forceful or possessive, simply soft and delicate; quiet and stealthy, to avoid noticed attention by the staff. I'm unsure how long I hold on, but I'm certain it's not long. I explode inside my clothing, coating Artemis' smooth palm, and probably myself as well. Reaching into my carry-on, I retrieve my summer dress shirt to help tidy up the mess.
Next, I want to reciprocate. After experiencing my first-ever orgasm with a woman, I wished to show her my gratitude. I attempted to unzip her pants, and she aided me, unbuttoning and unfastening her fly, moving the fabric out of the way.
Finally, I got to touch a woman in that incredibly intimate manner. Regrettably, at the time, I was utterly inexperienced. I didn't understand the female anatomy, so I didn't tease her labia or rub her clit. Instead, I resorted to what I assumed would work and fingered her.
Years later, I've since ceased my ineptitude; however, at the time, it troubled me that I had likely spent 20 minutes teasing her by merely finger-banging her on the plane. She did allow me to unbutton her shirt, permitting me to touch and tease her breasts. Consequently, it was a night of firsts for me: first time sprinting to second base, first time rounding third base, first total hand job, first (and only) orgasm during a flight. I was incredibly fortunate.
Regretfully, we didn't maintain contact (although if she asked, I would have put everything aside to be with her). I may have been confusing desire and love at the time. Even still, in retrospect, I am content to have had the opportunity. Otherwise, I might have turned out as the 30-year-old virgin.
By chance, I discovered her on Facebook years later and carried on an exchange. She remembered how we met and confirmed with certainty. She recognized me and, possibly, even perceived how fortunate I was for that evening.
I continue to fantasize about meeting up with her one day and returning the appreciated pleasure she deserves. She is a goddess, after all. I would ensure she was treated as the worshipped and pleasured goddess she is at least for one night. The acts I'd perform to her would leave any woman blushing.
Yet, this could merely be daydreaming. I knew she had a mischievous and alluring personality, concealed behind her exterior. But if I learned her current inclinations and thought there was even a glimmer of a chance, I would undoubtedly endeavor to make that dream a reality.
