By Bud Koenemund
A 100 Word Story
For Lindsay
JFK to Paris is a
long flight. He’d picked these seats purposefully: last row; a red-eye. Once
the plane leveled off, she requested a blanket. After covering them both, she
smiled as he nodded.
His fingers
slipped between her legs, tracing along her inner thigh; then pressing against
her clit through the wet-look pleather leggings she’d worn because she likes
how he stares at her when she does. Her mouth fell open in a gasp.
He enjoyed
knowing she’d struggle to remain silent as he made her cum several times. Then
she’d sleep well for the rest of the flight.