A tale of male desperation for chronologically mature readers.
The flight from Phoenix was the least populated flight I had ever been on. There were a fifth of the passengers a 737 could hold. We walked back up the aisle, being in the last group to board, and passed row after row with one person in each. My new girlfriend, Zephyra, and I wanted to sit together, so we selected a row towards the back, with no one around. After quickly stowing our carry-ons above, I sat down in the middle seat (of three) and Zephyr (as I called her) sat by the window.
I took a long drink of water, a habit I picked up in the arid Southwest, and we settled in for the five-hour flight. Zephyr arranged her plane blanket, as she called it, in her lap and over her legs. “I always get chilled on the plane with the recirculated air,” she had explained to me.
I leaned over, as I had done on the flight in, and whispered, “It would be a shame if my hand found its way under there.”
Her response was the same as before. “I dare you.”
The flight to Phoenix was packed, and with no window seat, we didn’t have an opportunity. Today, however, it looked like opportunity was abounding. I put my seat back and let the tray table down to place my nearly empty bottle of water on it.
We were several rows from the back, and the flight attendants stationed there. They were busy farther forward, so I tentatively slid my hand under the blanket and down to the hem of her shorts, tugging them up until my fingers were brushing the inside of her inner thigh. I started to pull her panties to the side when she hissed, “Connor, no!”
I extracted my hand from her shorts and rested it at her waist as I heard the flight attendant request we put up the tray tables and return our seats to the upright position. I grinned at Zephyr and finished my water, stowing the empty bottle under my seat. Tray and seat were both put up, and the plane lumbered along the tarmac queuing for position.
“Are you going to hold?” Zephyr asked.
“Sure, why not?” I shrugged. “Not much competition for the bathroom.”
“Okay, once we reach cruising altitude, you can pee only after we get drinks and snacks and you get me off. Deal?”
“Deal.” We did a fist bump to formalize the challenge. I was feeling as though I could pee, but it wasn’t urgent, just there. If I were at work or in an ordinary setting, I might go now. I might wait. I settled with my hand on Zephyr’s thigh, and she rested her head against my shoulder.
The plane climbed for a while and eventually levelled off and soon thereafter the fasten seatbelt light went off. I looked back and the cabin crew was up and preparing their little cart. I squeezed Zephyr’s thigh and started again to pull her shorts leg up, fingers brushing lightly against her inner thigh. She sighed. “Connor, wait until after they are done. It’s a five-hour flight.” I knew she was eager for me to get started too, but it wasn’t worth the risk, and I reluctantly withdrew.
The sound of an open microphone hissed slightly in the cabin, “This is your captain speaking,” came the reassuring feminine voice, “We’re in for a touch of severe weather ahead so the cabin crew will only have a brief time to serve drinks and snacks. We will be turning on the seatbelt lights and don’t want anyone to get out of their seats for a while. If you need to use the bathroom, do it soon.” The voice ended, and the sound of the open microphone abruptly cut off with a click.
“Do you want to pee now? I’ll understand,” Zephyr asked with a sweet smile.
“I’m not desperate yet, let it ride,” I answered. I felt a slight urge now, but nothing that I couldn’t hold for at least half an hour. There might be squirming and leaking, but by then I’d have gotten Zephyr off, and whatever this weather was, we’d be past. “Do you need to go?”
“I think I will.” She leaned in to whisper. “Maybe I’ll lose the panties, make it easier on you.”
“What a delightful little harlot you are, my dear. Too bad we can’t both get in there.”
“I think I’d rather do it in your car.” I winced. I had a small car.
“Hurry back,” I called to her as she started the 6 rows back to the bathroom. She had to duck in a row for the cart to get past.
“Cranberry juice,” I heard her tell the attendant, who made it to where I was sitting around the same time the bathroom door closed behind her. I put her tray table down and set the small plastic tumbler with pale red liquid and ice on it. I asked for water and hoped they’d just give me the bottle, but I also received a plastic cup with ice and water in it. At this point, I didn’t need any more, anyway.
The cart made its way a couple of rows ahead, and soon Zephyr was scooting past me and slipping under the tray table to regain her seat while I held both our drinks. All settled in, she drank some of her juice, and I absentmindedly downed mine in 2 swallows. I’m all ready for you tiger. Just as soon as they are done, and the coast is clear.
I couldn’t help but tease her, trying to slip my hand past her waistband in a half-hearted attempt to start early, but she swatted me away as the plane suddenly lurched and our bellies fluttered. The captain cut in again, “Folks, we’ve hit that weather. We’re turning on the seatbelt light again as the cabin crew finishes for now. They will resume when this is over in an hour.”
Zephyr looked at me and grinned. “Looks like you get to start earlier after all.” She tugged and arranged, and smoothed her blanket in readiness. “How are you doing? Can you make it an hour?”
“Sure, no problem,” I lied. The urge to pee was stronger now, but not to the point of desperation. I was sure it wouldn’t come to that. In half an hour I’d be dancing my way back to the bathroom. They wouldn’t stop a desperate man, would they?
The attendant made his way back up the aisle, stopping to retrieve our cups. I took a mouthful of ice and dropped the cup into the bag. Zephyr was sipping hers and wanted to keep it. The plane lurched again and then bucked from side to side. I hated turbulence, and in an unwelcome development, the sudden movements were creating new sensations in my bladder.
I held my hand up and flexed my fingers. “Tell me when.”
She glanced back, looked at me, and giggled. “Hold on, he’s still securing the cart.”
A couple of minutes of sudden lurches and buffeting later, I received the all-clear. My hand slid under the blanket, past her waistband, and glided over her mons, coming to rest over her moist slit. I slid my finger over and between her lips, and her wetness welcomed me. I slipped a finger inside, curving it to find her hard little g-spot. The plane shook from side to side, causing my hand to move. She sighed at that and spread her legs slightly more.
“I don’t even need to do anything; the plane will do all the work,” I murmured as the plane shook in agreement. I had a sudden strong urge and had to fidget for a moment to calm myself down.
“Are you alright?” Zephyr had noticed my struggle.
“I may not make it an hour, but I’m okay for now. This turbulence is not helping.”
She laughed. “It’s helping me.” She closed her eyes and relaxed. “Now, where were we…”
With my middle finger slowly massaging her g-spot, my thumb circled above and teased out her already swollen clit. She stiffened as I pressed on it and made a slow circle. “We were just about to do that.”
She sighed as I gently circled her clit slowly, and then faster, and then applied more pressure with a rapid motion. I knew she really liked the gentlest of touches with a slow circular movement but appreciated the variety as her arousal grew. The swaying cabin and sudden jerks were not inducing a relaxed atmosphere, and twice I had to tighten my muscles to control my urge, feeling a small leak escape from my rock-hard penis. By all indications, she was enjoying my attention, so I kept going. It took a little over 15 minutes until I felt her hand on my thigh, squeezing it, as she fought not to make a sound, and I knew she was beginning her orgasm. I immediately switched to the gentle thumb brushing and felt her hips start to jerk as she whispered, “Fuck,” and froze, slack-jawed, squeezing my thigh with more strength than I expected.
It was over quickly, and she relaxed as her hand slid over to my crotch, feeling my hard-on. Her eyelids fluttered open as she looked at me again. “I love that you get so excited from getting me off.”
“You do the same for me.”
“What a pair we are,” she purred. We sat in silence for a moment until the plane jumped with a violent rattle, and I stiffened my muscles again to not pee myself. “Oh,” she said with a note of concern in her voice, “how are you doing?”
“I’m sensing that.” She finished the small remaining amount of watered-down cranberry juice and the few pieces of ice, emptying her cup.
“I’m sure you don’t mind seeing me all desperate.”
“I am rather enjoying it.” The plane bucked as she slipped her hand down my pants and felt the growing wet spot at the tip of my penis. “Oh, my.” She rubbed it for a moment and then pulled her hand out and held the fingers to her mouth, licking them. I shivered at that, looking forward to getting her back to my apartment once we landed.
I started to withdraw my hand from her vulva, and she hissed, “Hey, who said you were done?” I squeezed with another powerful urge to empty my bladder and felt a few more drops of pee escape me.
“I can’t…” I started. Then, “Hold on.” I finished pulling my hand from her pants and undid my seatbelt, shooting up from my seat. I stepped into the aisle and lost my footing because of a sudden shift in gravity due to a quick drop in altitude. I gathered myself and squirmed as I leaked, suppressing another urge to pee right then and there.
“Sit down,” the voice bellowed. It was the flight attendant, and he fixed me with a steely gaze.
“No, I can’t.” I was afraid I sounded as if I were whining.
“You have to - now sit back down.” I was under no illusion I’d be in serious trouble if I disobeyed, and still considered it anyway, but reluctantly returned to my seat as the plane lurched again.
“It was worth a try,” Zephyr offered. “How much longer do you think you can last?”
“I’m surprised I’m still as dry as I am.” I stiffened and squirmed in my seat as the seatbelt clicked shut, and I realized how much it pressed against my bladder. “I’ll start with the bigger leaks, and then I just won’t be able to stop until I’ve let a fair bit out. You know how I am,” I shrugged. “This seatbelt isn’t helping.
“Yeah. I’ve just never seen you when you cannot use the bathroom.”
“Right,” I agreed, “and when we’re at home, it doesn’t matter if I wet myself, or you.”
“Now you’re just teasing me.” I laughed weakly as an even more powerful urge hit me, and I winced at my efforts to suppress it. I looked down and saw that I now had a visible wet spot on my shorts. They’d dry quickly, but soon they would be flooded and saturated.
“Can I use your…” I winced again as I fought not to lose control. “Can I use your blanket? I’m sorry, I just can’t see myself lasting much longer.”
“My blanket. Sure.” She started to gather it up and then stopped, grinning at me. “I have an idea. Trust me.” I nodded as my face grimaced, my hips twisting and sphincter tight as I could feel the pee pushing and straining to spurt from my penis. There was a sharp ache at the tip as my muscles protested their prolonged abuse.
She pushed up my tray table and made me sit straight up as she placed the blanket over my lap. She lifted one side so she could see my pants, and I wondered what she thought of my growing wet spot. I wanted to use the blanket, so I didn’t wet the seat, but it seemed like she just wanted to watch the pee blossom in my shorts like a non-symmetric Rorschach. Any moment now and she would get her wish.
I was startled when I felt her tug at my zipper, and I felt myself swell slightly at her touch as she pulled my now flaccid penis from the slit in my boxers. “What are you doing?” I asked, as I felt another leak dribbling out, and she smiled when she saw it.
“Aw, you did that on purpose. You really know the way to a girl’s heart.
“I didn’t want to make a mess.”
“You won’t.” She had her empty cup, formerly with cranberry juice, in her hand. She placed it under my penis and held the shaft so the head pointed into the cup. “You’ll need to stop before it gets full; I’ll tell you when. Now relax.”
I couldn’t believe the absurdity of the situation. With my penis in one hand and a cup in the other, my girlfriend was single-handedly fulfilling a peak fantasy I never knew I had. As the urge quickly built, I relaxed and just let it go. I felt my penis building with pee and then I almost moaned out loud as the first jet of urine blasted out, splashing as it struck the bottom of the cup.
Zephyr seemed surprised at the ferocity of it but instantly adjusted, and I could hear myself filling the cup. Instantly, I heard Zephyr command me to stop. I tried to stop the flow, but my muscles were tired. Nonetheless, I could stop it, but judging from her reaction, some may have spilled or overflowed. I found myself panting as my body strained to keep the flow from continuing. It would not be long until I was back at imminent loss of control.
The cup with slightly yellowish liquid was full to the brim. I was thinking to myself, “Now what?” as she pulled it out from under the blanket. We bought a little time and now we have a cup of pee. I was shocked, but also proud and excited when she took the cup, raised it to her lips, and simply drank it down.
She grinned at me after licking her lips. “See, I told you to trust me.”
“My God. What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”
“Hush. We’re not done.” She positioned the cup again and lifted my penis to make sure it was at the proper angle to fill the cup as neatly as possible. Looking back at the flight attendant, she paused as the plane endured a gentle sequence of lurches, trembles, and clatters. She seemed satisfied with what she saw and dropped the empty cup as she instructed me to “Just let go and empty yourself.” Then, she proceeded to put my semi-erect penis in her mouth.
I relaxed and my pee surged in her mouth. I could feel it filling with my urine, and then she swallowed. It filled repeatedly, and each time she swallowed it. What would have been many short fills of the cup, I streamed continuously into her waiting mouth as she fastidiously swallowed it, leaving no trace. I was exhausted as I pushed out the last spurts of pee.
I stroked her hair. “All done; crisis averted. You saved the day.”
She extracted her face from my loins. “Yay me.”
“That was fucking incredible and divinely inspired.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” She looked back at the flight attendant. “They’re up. I think the weather is over. Quick, zip up.”
She pulled the blanket away as I adjusted my shorts and zipped up. I reclined my seat again and took a deep breath, still in awe of what my girlfriend had just done.
“Sir?” The steely-eyed attendant startled me. “We’re going to resume normal service so you can use the bathroom.” The captain cut in over the speakers and confirmed what I had just been told. He looked at me expectantly, as if I were going to climb over him to scramble to the back.
“Thanks, but you were right, I could hold it.” An arched eyebrow was his only response, and he turned back to his station as they readied the beverage cart.
Zephyra took my hand and squeezed it. “You know you owe me big time.” She was grinning ear-to-ear.
“I do,” I agreed. “And I can’t wait to pay you back.”
