I'm lucky to own an airplane. As a pilot, it's my pride and joy, and I fly it every chance I get. It isn't that big, but it can comfortably carry 4 adults and is well equipped, with a good autopilot. I often offer to take my friends places, to the point where my wife and friends joke about "Air Simon." My friend Lyssa has flown with me before a few times, but recently she introduced me to a new kind of flying.

Her husband and kids had gone to the beach, which is about a 5-hour drive from where we live, but she had a work event that she couldn't miss. It's only about a 45-minute flight, so I offered to ferry her down there after her event, thinking I could have a good seafood meal, pick up some beach beer, and get some time in the air. I drove out to the airport, preflighted the plane, and was ready to go when Lyssa got there an hour or so later. She looked terrific, long tanned legs visible under a bright sundress. I could see she was a little more dolled up than usual—painted nails, a little makeup, and omg, was that lip gloss? Lyssa is usually found in sandals, jean shorts, and a t-shirt so I made sure to compliment her appearance.

We loaded up, started up, and I did all the usual pilot stuff: I got the ATIS broadcast, got a flight clearance, did my engine run-up, taxied out, and departed. It was sunny and I don’t have air conditioning, so the cockpit warmed quickly. The faint smell of Lyssa’s floral perfume mixed subtly with the distinctive smells of oil, metal, and leather that characterize my cockpit. I noticed the contrast as I configured the plane for climb, catching a hint of her sun-kissed scent.

At the top of the climbout, I ran through my "cruise" checklist, which took me a few minutes to get everything set the way I wanted. 23 inches of manifold pressure, 2350 RPM, set fuel for 12 gallons per hour, pitch trim set, autopilot on, altitude hold on. "That's pretty much it for me," I joked. "All I have to do is just watch for blinking red lights at this point."

Lyssa chuckled. "Do you ever get bored flying by yourself?"

"No, not really," I said. "Every once in a while I'll read, or cull my old photos, or something, but usually there's plenty to keep me busy."

“Flying an airplane’s really tactile,” I continued. “You feel the engines rumbling and humming, and every little switch and button has a feel to it. So do the flight controls, even the throttle. You can tell a lot from just how the airplane feels.” She arched one eyebrow at this.

We chatted idly for the next few minutes. Every so often I'd have to answer a radio call from air traffic control. As we talked, I was sneaking looks at Lyssa's tanned legs, which were illuminated by the bright sunshine coming in through the windows. She'd slipped off her sandals and leaned her seat back a little. I figured she was teasing me a little, as she often does, but I wasn't about to complain. I also figured she might not notice me checking her out, since I had on sunglasses and was trying hard not to be too obvious. But her legs looked amazing and I felt a little stirring in my pants as we talked.

"Have you ever…" she started before hesitating briefly.

"Ever what?" I asked.

"Ever… had sex in this plane?"

"Well, no," I admitted. "It's a fun idea but," I gestured with my right hand," there's not a lot of room. Plus, y'know, I sort of have to fly the plane."

She giggled. "Yeah, but I'm not flying the plane," she said. She licked her lips and looked me full in the eyes. "You stay over there and do your pilot stuff, then." She reached into the bag at her feet and pulled out a small wand vibe, then turned her hips towards me a little and flung her left leg over my lap.

She clicked the vibrator on and held it, watching me stare at it, before she tugged the hem of her sundress up and started running the vibe over her inner thighs. I couldn't see her panties but I was imagining just exactly how high up the head of the vibe was going. She let out a little gasp and closed her eyes as the vibe got higher and higher, then moaned a little, eyes still closed, and shifted her hips as she moved the wand around.

"Is this turning you on, Simon?" she said without opening her eyes.

"Um, yeah."

"Is that gonna be a problem?" she said, a note of challenge in her husky voice. Her eyes, half-lidded and daring, locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Nope," I said, trying to be casual about it.

"Mmm, good," she murmured, and her breathing got a little faster.

Meanwhile, I am absolutely dying trying to pay attention to anything except the sight and sound of this gorgeous woman pleasuring herself in the seat, no more than a foot away. Hell, less than that; her tanned, lovely leg was draped across my thighs, dangerously close to the throbbing hardon I was now sporting.

Lyssa moaned softly, a melody over the steady hum of the engines. She rocked gently, her hips finding a primal rhythm with the vibrations of the aircraft. As she shifted, the sunlight caught her, turning her skin golden, almost ethereal. “Oh, yes,” she breathed out, her voice half-lost in the airplane noise, “this feels like heaven."

My erection was threatening to break through the zipper on my shorts.

I tried to ignore it, but Lyssa had other ideas. She rotated her left foot outward a little and, wouldn't you know it, that made her calf bump against my cock. I jumped, not gonna lie. Then I put my hand on her leg, intending to move it back where it had been a few seconds ago. But her skin was warm and smooth, and she let out a little purr when I touched her so… well, I left it there. She didn't object and I began running my fingertips slowly up and down her leg.

Lyssa moaned a little when I did this. "Mmmm. Keep that up, and I might have to reward you," she said, her breath a little faster and her hips moving slightly.

I chuckled and continued touching her. I could feel my pulse thundering in my ears.

"Oh, fuck, I'm getting close" she murmured, and started making a little whimpering sound low in her throat. Then she pulled the vibe away from her body and set it on the seat. "Here," she said, handing me her phone. I raised my eyebrows, but grabbed it.

"Now, let’s capture this moment," she breathed, her voice velvet soft yet commanding. The very air seemed to thicken with anticipation as she slowly, deliberately, positioned herself. She wasn’t making a request as giving me an invitation into an intimate dance. I couldn’t say no, so I pointed the camera at her.

She gave the camera a long, smoldering look… or maybe it was directed at me, licked her lips lasciviously, and said, "He's videoing this for me. And I know he's going to watch it later. So are you." I briefly wondered who the audience for this video was going to be, then quickly decided i didn't really care as Lyssa slowly ran the vibe up the inside of her left thigh. I followed it with my hand but could only reach a couple of inches above her knee.

"Ahhhhh," she moaned. "This feels sooooo good. Do you like watching me, Simon? Does it make your cock hard?"

I grunted.

"Mmmm," she moaned. "I can tell you like this, don’t you?" To emphasize the point, she ground her left leg against my erection, creating a delightful frisson in my spine.

I nodded and she smirked. "I bet you'd love to touch me right now, wouldn't you?"

"Um, yes," I said.

She giggled. "Too bad, you have to fly the plane." Her giggles turned into a cross between a sigh and a moan as she ran the vibe briefly over her clit, tracing little circles around it. "See what you're missing?" she said teasingly, and brought her right knee up and her foot onto the seat, giving me a clear view between her legs. I could see a tiny wet spot on her bikini bottoms. She brought her right hand down, ran her middle finger over her covered clit, and then slowly, gently, eased her fingertip underneath the waistband of her bottoms. I watched, transfixed, as she teased the tip of her finger under the elastic a bit further, and then a bit further still.

"Ooooh," she said softly, and from that I knew she was pressing her fingertip inside her pussy.

I groaned a little and pressed my hips up against her leg. "What was that, Simon?" she asked. Before I could answer, with perhaps the worst timing in the history of mankind, ATC called me and gave me descent instructions. I held up a hand in response so I could answer them and then got set up for the descent.

"We'll be landing in about seven minutes," I said sadly.

"Oh, it won't take me that long," she retorted cheerfully. I couldn't hear any change in the sound, but I saw her press a button on the hilt of the wand and knew she was getting ready to finish herself off.

"Are you videoing me?" she said. I nodded.

With a mischievous grin, she tugged at her bikini, the simple act loaded with promise, her intent clear and thrilling.

She brushed the tip of the vibe along her skin, light as a feather yet as electrifying as a lightning strike, tracing routes of shivering pleasure that echoed deep within her. Her breathing sped up, her hips were moving, and she started making little whimpering sounds again.

"Ohhhh, yeah," she moaned, her eyes half-closed.

I was still flying the plane and concentrating on my job, but I'm not going to lie: I was getting the best, and the absolute hottest, show I could imagine. Trapped in the pilot's seat, I was a prisoner of my own arousal, tantalizingly unable to act.

Lyssa's right hand moved the wand back and forth across her clit and then I watched her ease a finger inside herself. "Ahhh, yeah," she gasped, "right there." She worked the finger in and out a little and her breath sped up. The smooth lovely muscles of her leg were getting tighter against my hardon. She looked me straight in the eyes, and her smile was downright wicked, as she brought her middle finger back up to her mouth and licked it clean.

I swallowed and looked away, afraid of flying off course.

"Uh-uh," she said. "Look at me. Watch me cum."

She pressed the vibrator against her clit and her whole body jerked a little. She gasped. "Ooooh, I'm getting so close. So fucking close," she murmured, her eyes unfocused. Her right arm and shoulder started working up and down a little, and I could tell she was fingering herself and grinding the vibrator against her clit at the same time. My entire body was throbbing, and I was fighting the urge to throw off my seatbelt and join her in her seat.

"Are you ready, Simon?" she gasped, and her body jerked again.

"Ready for what?" I whispered.

Her spine suddenly arched and her hips bucked a little. "Ooooh," she moaned. "Oh, fuck," and her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, I'm cuuuumming," she whimpered, her hips writhing. She was gasping, panting, and her body started quivering all over. Her legs and feet tensed and began to shake.

"Oh, oh, oh," she moaned, and then the tremors started deep inside her.

Her right hand and her hips were jerking in a regular rhythm. She was grunting a little and her left hand had grabbed a handful of the material on the top of her seat. She kept her eyes on mine and her gaze was almost too intense to handle.

She groaned, a low guttural sound, and the tremors became more powerful. Her groaning got louder; she wasn't speaking but she was certainly communicating how she felt. Her hips lifted off the seat, first a bit and then higher, and she pressed the vibe hard against her gorgeous body. I watched hungrily.

Lyssa's breath hitched, a sharp, guttural sound tearing from her throat as her body tensed, then convulsed. "Oh—!" The single syllable was a raw explosion of release, echoing slightly in the tight space of the cockpit. Her back arched violently, pressing her against the seat as waves of pleasure visibly shook her. Each tremor was punctuated by a deep, involuntary moan, her voice ragged with ecstasy. She clutched the vibrator tightly, relentless, as she rode the waves of her climax. It was a visceral tableau of pure, uninhibited release.

Eventually her breathing slowed a little and she moved the vibe off her clit, letting the elastic of her panties snap back. She left her leg draped across me as she put the vibe away and took her phone back, shutting off the recording.

I was having a ridiculously hard time concentrating on lining the plane up with the runway but managed to talk to the tower, get a landing clearance, land, and taxi without crashing. Concentrating on those tasks gave me a chance for my hardon to die down, too; that turned out to be important because her two daughters, along with the FBO lineman, met us planeside as soon as I shut the engines off. Lyssa and the kids went inside while I secured the plane, then I went in and chatted with them and her husband. She was acting completely normal, like she had just taken an Uber to the grocery store instead of a ringside seat to the hottest airshow I'd ever attended. She thanked me profusely, as did her husband, then they headed to the beach house. I borrowed a crew car, stopped at my favorite local brewery to get a 12-pack to go, and had a terrific shrimp poboy before fueling up and heading home.

Later that night, sitting in my recliner with a beer, my phone buzzed. "Thanks for the flight," read the message. "Here's a souvenir." The video was attached. Before I could open it, one more buzz: "Think of me."

** to be continued after she reads this and tells me what happens next **