Blowjob On A Plane

I’d seen her in the airport departure lounge, walking towards a table in one of the cafes. She was probably in her early twenties, was only slightly chubby and was buxom with it. She had on some jeans and the black top she was wearing was figure hugging; it covered her right shoulder, but left the other bare. As she walked, her breasts wobbled precariously and her top revealed enough of her left breast to keep me riveted. I couldn’t help but fantasize about it falling out somehow. Maybe if she ran, or something. The image of a blancmange wobbling in a mould came to mind. A tit shaped mould. Continue reading Blowjob On A Plane