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She wants to purchase the sex toy for her boy friend to help his masturbation
I sat in my cramped seat watching the other passengers come on board, struggling with their carry-on luggage, crawling slowly down the aisle, one after the other. Despite the late night departure time, this was going to be a full flight, like all flights during the holiday period. It's usually interesting to try to guess which of the boarding passengers will be sitting next to you on the flight. I scanned each face intently, looking for signs that would indicate whether the person would be my neighbor on the long trip. I waited and watched. Eventually the tail end of the passenger queue could be seen. The pilot's voice came over the intercom, welcoming us to the flight and informing us that we'd be departing in about 5 minutes. No one claimed the seat, so far. "Would this be my lucky day?" My eyes eagerly darted from face to face. "One of these people has to be the one." But, they all passed by, taking seats elsewhere.

A stewardess' voice came on the loud speaker a minute later, informing us that we would be leaving shortly and asking us to make sure our seat belts were fastened and our carry on luggage was securely stowed away. I looked down toward the floor and confirmed that my bag was snug in its temporary home beneath the seat in the next row, and then began browsing through the selection of magazines in the pouch. Just as I pulled out one of the magazines, I heard a woman's voice close by.

"Excuse me, sir. I need to get to my seat?"

Surprised, I immediately looked up to find a nervous young woman, somewhat out of breath, standing in the aisle, staring down at me.

I quickly unfastened my seat belt and got up, standing back as far as I could. She rushed by, brushing my thighs ever-so lightly with her butt, and then fell into her seat. She hastily stuffed her coat underneath the seat in the next row and fastened her seat belt. Once settled, she threw her head back, letting it fall on the head rest, closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. "Whew! I didn't think I was going to make it!" She then glanced toward me, combed her long, straight, dark-brown hair off her face with her fingers, and smiled.

"What happened?" I asked.

"My last flight was really late. They had to call ahead asking to have this one held for me." She was still out of breath.

"Well, glad you could make it. It's going to be a long flight," I sighed.

"That's OK, I'm planning to sleep through it."

"I hope I can fall asleep too. Even though I've flown many times, I'm still fairly on edge and it's hard to relax enough. By the way, my name's Arnold."

"And I'm Lisa."

"That's interesting, I once fell in love with someone who had a very similar name."

"Oh really?" she replied, affecting a tone of indifference, as she shuffled through the magazines in the seat pouch before her. "Did she look anything like me?"

"No, not at all," I chuckled.

I could hear the cabin door shut and the circulating fans increase in volume. As our plane taxied toward the runway, the head stewardess made the usual spiel about emergency exits, floatation devices and air masks. Moments later, we were airborne, heading east, more than five hours away from our destination.

I glanced toward Lisa and saw her staring out the window at the city lights rapidly becoming fainter below. It suddenly occurred to me that I had seen her somewhere before. I haven't a clue where or when. She wasn't someone I'd ever worked with. She was way too young to have gone to college with me. Moreover, I was in California for only a couple days on this business trip, and definitely didn't meet her earlier on my trip."

She suddenly turned around and stared in my direction, smiling. She must have seen my reflection in the window. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

I was taken by surprise. "Uhh. . . . I'm trying to figure out where I know you from."

She quickly dismissed the notion. "I must look like someone else you know, because I don't think we've ever met."

"You're right, but who?"

She shrugged her shoulders, returned to her magazine and began thumbing through it quickly, leaving me to struggle with the dilemma. I was pleased to have a good-looking woman sitting next to me for a change, even if she wasn't interested in making conversation. Usually it's another business man, or someone with a screaming infant.

I started reading through my magazine as well, but couldn't concentrate. I was obsessed with finding an answer. Now, I'm not someone who gives much credence to theories of after-life, reincarnation, etc. She had to be someone I met in this life. And then it dawned on me. I started blushing and my face grew warm. "That's it, I saw her on the Internet at an adult website I subscribe to." The woman I was thinking of was one of my favorite erotic models. She looked just like Lisa, except that the model is named Allison. And here she was - or maybe someone who looked just like her.

Lisa was by all accounts a very pretty woman. She was about 5'4" tall, petite, with a fair, ivory complexion and very smooth skin. Her crystalline blue eyes were accentuated by long black lashes. I couldn't see most of her other features because she wore a heavy sweater on top of a long-sleeve jersey. I would have loved to get a glimpse of her legs, but they were hidden beneath a pair of tight-fitting jeans. She did seem to have pretty, well-manicured hands. I briefly entertained a mental image of what pleasure those lovely, thin fingers could bestow on my manhood.

Possibly in her early to mid-twenties, Lisa could have been a college student. Everything seemed to match the characteristics of the model at the website. Even the smile was the same. Being intrigued about this, I kept stealing furtive glances at her in order to confirm my suspicions.

"Do you mind?" she suddenly asked, turning towards me at one of those moments when I was looking at her.

"I'm sorry?" My heart raced.

"Well, you keep looking in this direction. I can see you out of the corner of my eye. It's a bit disturbing. Do you want to switch places so you can look out the window?

"No that's OK. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. There's nothing to see now anyway. I . . . I'm still trying to figure out where I know you from."

She shrugged her shoulders again and went back to her reading material. A couple minutes later she closed the magazine and returned it to the pouch. Apparently she was bored with it. Then, looking up at me again, she asked, "Are you going back home?"

"I live in New England. I was just out here on a short business trip. And you?"

"I live in the Bay area. They routed me through LA because I needed a flight at the last minute and all the direct flights were full."

"Are you going to visit relatives for the holidays?"

"Yes, but my brother is in the hospital. He was in a bad car accident and may not make it. So I want to see him again as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Trying to suppress a yawn, she noted, "No offense, Arnold, but I'm exhausted and want to get some shut-eye. . . . Could I bother you to get me a couple pillows from the overhead?"

"No problem," I replied, concealing my disappointment with an air of casualness.

Lisa stuffed the pillows in the space between her seat and the window, unfastened her seat belt and curled up, facing the other way, head resting on her hands.

I began to be more and more convinced that this woman was the model named Allison. My heart raced and my member stirred to life at the realization that I was sitting so close to one of my favorites. I can't count the number of times I've brought myself off while looking at her pictures on screen. I returned to my magazine, but found I had no interest in it. After a while, I began to feel drowsy as well. Since it felt chilly in the cabin, I decided to bring down a blanket for myself, in addition to a couple pillows. I wondered whether Lisa was chilly too, curled up tightly in the corner. I decided to pull out another blanket and drape it over her very carefully so as not to awaken or alarm her.

I tried to get comfortable as best I could, resting my head on the pillows that I propped up on the side of my seat next to Lisa's. Gradually, my consciousness faded, as my fantasies about her lulled me to sleep. I don't know how long I was asleep, but I awoke with a raging hardon. My eyes opened to find Lisa turned the other way, facing me, just inches away, head resting as before on her hands, atop her pillows. It was still dark both outside and in our cabin, so obviously we were a long way from our destination. She was still asleep, breathing slowly and regularly. I closed my eyes and tried to get back to sleep again, but couldn't. I was too excited. I could just barely hear her breathing through the roar of the airplane's engines. The fragrance of her warm breath was intoxicating. I inched closer to her face so as to enjoy her breath more fully, slipping my hand beneath my slacks, stroking my stiff, aching shaft. After a short while, I felt that unmistakable warmth and tingling sensation flowing through my genitals that signal an approaching orgasm. I debated whether to let myself go to completion, but decided it was too risky. I closed my eyes once more and rested, enjoying the privileged closeness to one of my favorites.

I couldn't keep my mind off of this lovely lady, and gave free reign to my fantasies, imagining what it would be like to be in a relationship with her, even if only a short-term sexual relationship. I wondered what she was like as a person. I bet she'd probably be hard to get along with. She could be a bit spoiled by her good looks, for she could have almost any man she wanted -- and she probably knew it. Fat chance she'd ever be interested in me. Oh well. It was fun to toy with fantasies. Once more, my mind drifted off and I fell asleep.

Eventually, the sky outside began showing a hint of daylight, and more and more passengers were becoming active, walking about the cabin. I got up and made a quick trip to the restroom. When I returned I found Lisa standing up, clutching the head rest of the seat ahead of me.

"I gotta go too," she exclaimed smiling.

While she was away, I sat down briefly in her seat and stared out the window, watching the snow-covered landscape rushing by ever faster. We must have been over upstate New York or eastern Pennsylvania by then. It was obvious that we were beginning our descent. When I saw her walking back, I got up and stepped out into the aisle to let her return to her seat. "Were you able to sleep?" she asked, as she sat down.

"I must have, because the time went by too fast."

"I slept like a drunk. Told you I would. I have no problems sleeping on planes, especially at night. . . . . By the way, I wanted to say that I wasn't trying to be rude to you last night. I was just exhausted and needed to get some sleep. I wouldn't have made good conversation anyway."

"Oh, no problem," I smiled, somewhat relieved.

Her apology opened the door to a short conversation. I asked her what she did for a living. She grinned, saying only that she's involved on a part time basis in the entertainment industry. "It's only part-time work, but I'm earning a decent living from it," she added.

"You're really pretty, you know. I'll bet you could be a model."

She blushed, thanking me, but didn't provide the answer I hoped to hear.

The captain's voice came on the intercom once more, informing us that we would be landing soon, asking us to take our seats and fasten our seat belts. The plane landed a few minutes later. As we walked together down the long corridor toward the baggage claim area, I asked her if she wanted to stop at one of the concessions for a coffee. She paused for a few seconds, as if debating it, and then agreed, stating that it was still too early to call her relatives to have her picked up. -- A small victory for me! -- During the course of conversation I was tempted several times to ask her if she was the woman named Allison who I so admired, but refrained for fear that she'd bolt.

"Where do your relatives live," I asked.

She told me the name of the suburb, but hastened to add, "Actually, I'm not going to their house. I'm heading to the hospital first to see my brother."

"That's on my way home," I noted. "Could you use a lift?"

She gave me a suspicious look. "Uh. . . . I'm not sure I should be taking rides from a stranger? Anyway, my father is supposed to pick me up in a little while."

I escorted her to the baggage claim area, where we each retrieved our luggage.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," I said, as we faced each other for the last time. "Hope your brother recovers soon. Have a good holiday."

"You too!" she replied, flashing a sweet smile.

We each turned to head in opposite directions. "Well, that lovely smile was a treat," I thought. "At least I got some tiny measure of acceptance from her before she went on her way." I was about to turn around to get one last glimpse of her as she walked off, but suddenly she called out my name.

"Oh, Arnold!" Lisa started walking toward me. "You know. It's going to be another hour before I can wake up my Dad. I'll be bored here by myself. Can I take you up on that ride after all," she asked, sporting a broad grin.

"Uh. . . . . Why sure," I stammered, smiling, still a bit shocked by her sudden change of heart.

"But there'll be no monkey-business. I have a great, young lawyer who needs some business, in case you try anything."

"No problem."

The hospital where her brother was staying was about 45 minutes away. After a few minutes into our journey, our conversation turned to relationships. I was surprised she'd want to delve into such topics with me. Lisa seemed to be warming up to me. She told me that her current boyfriend was cheating on her, and that she was at a low point, emotionally. He was planning to move out of their shared apartment, and she hadn't been with anyone else for a while. In turn, I told her I had divorced several years ago, dated a few women since then, but that nothing serious had resulted.

"So, how are you managing?" she asked.

"I'm doing fine, other than that I don't have a love life. I guess you could say I'm 'happily single. " I don't think I answered her question. She must have been referring to my ability to manage sexually.

She quickly followed, "Aw, c'mon. With all those lovely, single women out there?"

"I'll agree there are lots of nice women, but it's hard to find someone who's right."

"And your lack of a love life? . . . . You know what I mean?" she asked, grinning.

"I do what I can to satisfy myself, if that's what you're thinking." I considered asking her more about her love life and her job, but decided it was too risky. I was hoping she'd tell me what I really wanted to hear, but she kept mum.

She laughed. Then, seemingly out of the blue, and in contradiction to her warnings about not fooling around, she asked me if I get horny often.

"Sometimes," I replied.

"Are you now?"

"Lisa, I thought you told me not to mess around."

"I'm just asking," she chuckled, looking at me with a gleam in her eyes and a mischievous grin on her face.

I couldn't figure her out. Until a minute ago she'd been almost completely indifferent to me and unapproachable. Perhaps she felt lonely and isolated, being so far from home and friends. She stared at my crotch, chuckling. I'd been sporting a healthy erection, on and off, for several hours, ever since we were on the plane sleeping next to each other. I looked down at my pants with some embarrassment to see if an erection bulge was visible. It wasn't especially noticeable, as far as I could tell. "What makes you think I'm aroused?"

"I can tell. Bulge watching has been a sport of mine for years."

"Well, I can tell you for a fact that I'm not," I retorted, teasing her.

"Could you prove it?"

"I could but won't, not now while driving on the highway in traffic. Besides, I don't care to meet your lawyer. Remember?"

She pouted. "So you're horny?"

"I just told you I wasn't."

She suddenly reached over and placed her hand on my crotch. My member, already mostly erect, instantly became fully hard. I jumped, momentarily losing control of my car and swerved into the next lane of traffic.

"But you are, see!"

"Ok, so I have a hardon. That's natural, especially in the presence of a good looking woman who's hitting on me. You told me not to mess around."

"I meant, not to assault me. That's not to say I'm not interested in any . . . . ." She paused a few seconds. "Uhmm . . . . You know, you could do me a huge favor."

"What's that?" (I couldn't imagine she wanted me to screw her or eat her pussy.)

"Bring yourself off for me."

"You mean . . .?"

"That's right. Watching you do it would be a big turn-on. I know you're horny."

I nearly lost it when she said that, and my car swerved again into the next lane, this time nearly hitting another car." The other motorist sat on his horn for a few seconds and gave me the finger, before speeding ahead.

"What, right here driving 70 miles an hour? We nearly got killed." I was now even more convinced that Lisa was the erotic model named Allison.

"C'mon. Can't we pull off and find a quiet street?"

I took a long, deep breath. I'd never masturbated for a woman before, so it was new and unfamiliar territory for me, even if she was beautiful and sexy. If anything, I would rather she brought me off instead. I was torn between a desire to go ahead with it and a fear of the possible consequences if anything went wrong.

"Promise me this isn't some sort of trap and you won't report me to the police."

"No, no. I promise. Just don't try to have sex with me, OK?"

"Lisa, masturbation in front of another person is sex."

"You know what I mean, don't force me to do more."

"Ok. We have to find a safe place to stop. Let me think."

We were getting close to the hospital. I remembered that there was a public park nearby with some secluded parking areas. There probably wouldn't be anyone about at this hour, especially in this cold weather. I drove into the park and found a spot down a back lane.

"It'll be safe here. Make sure your door is locked. . . . . Tell me, Lisa," I asked. "Why do you want to watch a strange man masturbate?"

"I don't know, Arnold. I'm horny and it's a turn-on, I guess. It's safe, safer than anything else. Besides, I love watching a man stroke himself, and especially like watching that thick, pearly-white sperm shoot out in long streams. I feel good knowing that I can make him come just by being near him." Then Lisa came to life, her eyes gleaming as she displayed an enthusiastic grin. "Well, let's see your package. C'mon hun. . . . . Please."

I fumbled nervously with my zipper. "I'm not sure I can go ahead with this," I noted as I lifted off my boxers, letting my erection spring out.

"See. I knew you were horny."

"I've never done anything like this before."

"Just close your eyes and fantasize. Pretend it's my hand on your cock," she urged, as a naughty grin spread across her face.

I released some saliva into my hand, spread it over my member and began wanking. It felt strange sharing my sexuality with a total stranger, even if she was a highly attractive woman. After a minute, I could see that Lisa was starting to get aroused too. Her lovely blue eyes darted rapidly back and forth between my crotch and my face, and she sported an enthusiastic grin of approval. "Oooooo" she kept whispering, as her lips parted in that sexy way models often do.

"That's beautiful, Arnold. Keep going," she urged. "You have a lovely cock."

"It's not real big, I'm afraid."

"It doesn't have to be. My boyfriend or former boyfriend I should say he doesn't have one any bigger than yours. But, he sure knows how to use it." She paused for a few seconds, and then added, with a tone of sorrow in her voice, "I just wish he'd be using it with me more often."
I pumped and pumped myself, looking up at Lisa often, focusing on her lovely features. Though it felt pleasurable, and I was maintaining the erection, I wasn't progressing toward a climax. Perhaps I was too nervous. Five minutes passed, maybe ten. Lisa was growing restless.

"Are you getting any closer?" she asked, chuckling nervously.

"I'm not sure."

"I probably should be getting to a phone pretty soon to let Dad know I'm OK. He's expecting my call." She leaned closer to me, running her hand briefly through my hair, and then brushed my cheek gently with the back side of her fingers. That sent a wave of pleasure through me, and I could feel my cock twitch and grow stiffer.

"Lisa. You could probably speed things up by taking over for me. Wouldn't you like to finish this?"

Her eyes opened wide and she took a deep breath. She flashed a naughty grin again, as if to indicate that she knew she shouldn't be doing it, but would anyway. After thinking about it for a few seconds, she reached for her purse, pulled out a small tube of hand lotion, poured a tiny amount on her hand, and massaged the lotion over my straining member. It didn't take long before I began to feel my sac tighten and my penis throb with excitement. She could sense I was about ready to explode, and aimed my rigid shaft toward my chest. "Ooooo," she kept whispering. "That's beautiful. Come for me. Come on hun. Give me a great big load. Pretend I'm your favorite pornstar. I know you're ready, so let's see your seed." She became very animated and slipped her other hand beneath her jeans and started rubbing herself from excitement as she pumped me. I looked up into her eager eyes once more, conjured up images of my fantasies of her and succumbed to the inevitable. A couple seconds later I exploded, shooting spurt after spurt of thick spunk onto my shirt and boxers. My orgasm seemed to go on and on, as Lisa kept pumping and squeezing my shaft in synch with my contractions. "Ooooooo," she kept murmuring with each spurt. As my contractions waned, she grasped my member between thumb and fingertips, sliding her hand up and down, pressing the ridge on the underside firmly so as to squeeze out every remaining drop of cum. When she felt me recoil from her touch, she stopped stroking and just held my member firmly, squeezing it rhythmically, every second or so.

"Look at you!" she exclaimed, grasping my nearly-hard member between her thumb and fingertips again, holding it out for examination. "What a stud! That was such a huge load. My boyfriend barely used to shoot half that much."

Lisa brought out a few tissues from her purse and started cleaning me up. "I'm not sure why I'm doing this for you," she stated, chuckling. "Must be a mothering instinct." Then, she wiped her hands dry. We recomposed and continued on toward the hospital. I was dumb-founded by the entire course of events. An hour ago, we were going to head in separate ways. And then this woman who hadn't seemed to have any interest in me at all, made a sudden 180-degree turn. Perhaps she did it out of defiance, or to get even with her cheating boyfriend.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Before getting out of the car, she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Arnold. That was awesome!"

"Well, thank you! That was fantastic! I'm just sorry I couldn't . . . . I couldn't return the favor."

"That's Ok. It felt really good for me anyway. Besides, that would have been going a little farther than I should have."

She jumped out of the car, grabbed her bags from the back seat and waved good-bye. "Thanks also for the ride!" she shouted.

I lowered the car window. "Have a safe trip home and a happy holiday!"

"Same to you!" she shouted back. Then she paused, turned around and rushed up to my window. "Since you were so curious about where I work, I thought I would let you know that the handjob comes courtesy of your best adult website. It's a special holiday treat from one of your favorite girls. You'll be seeing her online again soon. Many sweet, wet dreams, hun!" Lisa flashed a brief, wicked grin, and then dashed off toward the hospital entrance, her long dark hair blowing in the breeze.

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