Ok... so that's not a super imaginitive title. I know. Deal with it. :PThis was a not so little tale created for /u/strawberryslut01 from one of her prompts.
Read. Enjoy. Get turned on. Or don't. But let me know.
Or don't.

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I'd noticed you wondering the airport right away. Just my type; petite, tanned, dark hair and eyes... Nice tits and ass. You'd easily pass as Latino. Not that I knew (or cared) if you were or not. I tried to catch your eye a couple of times in the lounge but unsuccessfully; you're probably traveling for pleasure like the rest of them, and having a "nice time"... Not stuck in here, herded like cattle, because you have to be or you're getting evicted this month.

I despise these internal flights. Long. Boring. Not even flying to Vegas or anywhere fun. Flying for work is the worst. My tie and suit jacket had long since been ditched into my carry-on luggage, the collar of my pale blue shirt tugged open and my sleeves rolled up revealing my tatted forearms. Whilst I'm not the tallest myself, I'm markedly taller than you, and consider myself good looking: square jawed and browed, the latter beset with piercing blue eyes, staring out from beneath a crop of spiked, brown-blonde hair. If you knew what they meant, some of my tattoos are indicators that I'm ex-forces and I maintain the physique, being broad shouldered and clearly built for power. My six pack is more of a beer keg these days, but no one is perfect.

They announced my departure and I shook my head, downed my beer and headed for the kiosk. I had hoped to be early on the plane and grab a window seat; it was internal after all, no one could really be bothered making a fuss about who sits where. 121B. That was my assigned seat. I was going to trudge right past it looking for a vacant window seat... Until I saw who was sat in 121A... My little maybe-latina from the lounge. I grinned, more at my luck than at you, as I opened the overhead locker. Airpods in your ears, you hardly gave me a second glance, my forced cheery "Hi!" being all but ignored. Fine. I don't care if you like me anyway.

I sink into my seat and flag down a stewardess. "Sorry sir." She explains, shaking her head. "No alcohol on planes until we're over state lines." If indignation had a look, I'm now wearing it, as she struts off to help an overgrown manchild with his pillow. I turn to look at you for back up, but you're already leaned against the window, shutter pulled down, eyes lightly shut.

'Well this is going to be fun. Not.' I think, shaking my head, any hopes of an interesting flight fading quickly.

The pilot interrupts my train of thought, explaining that he's going to be dimming the lights shortly so we can get some rest and acclimatize to the twilight whilst we wait for the last couple of passengers. Before he's finished speaking the lights are dimming. Just as I'm resigning myself to going to sleep as well, you twist towards me, hair falling around your face, boobs pulling at that almost too baggy hoody - that's not for comfort, it's for concealment - and the denim clad knee furthest from me popping up from your side. I can't tell if you're asleep or your are trying to get my attention, but it's worked. My eyes follow the curve of your leg away from that knee to your hip, to whatever is concealed by the too baggy hoody... To your breast, straining at the material of said hoody... To your pretty, not-quite-Latina face.

I twist slightly to face you, pretending to lightly close my own eyes, before throwing out a hand to rest on that raised knee. I hear your breath catch in your throat. I knew it! I knew you weren't asleep. I peer at you through my half closed eyes, and you haven't moved, but your eyes are screwed tightly shut. No one sleeps like that! You must be awake... So you *must* want me to continue, right?

The last couple of passengers have either missed or boarded the plane... To be fair my attention was focused on you so I didn't notice, but the plane is moving, creeping towards the runway, as my hand is creeping along the inside of your thigh. It stops being fingers grazing the seam of your jeans and becomes a hand caressing the inside of your leg. I'm emboldened by your compliance now, laid twisted in my seat to face you, my eyes wide open, my back to the aisle and the rest of the plane. You fidget slightly in your seat, but don't pull away or make a sound, which again, I view as you not stopping me, therefore you obviously don't want me to stop.

A caressing hand becomes a groping one. At the top of your thigh. Suddenly I'm wishing, hard, that you were wearing a dress.

My right hand traces its way across the crotch of your jeans, onto your right thigh, laid flat on the seat beside me. I don't linger between your legs, not wanting to push my luck too far too fast, but then I brush back across to your left thigh, my hands accelerating along your body as the plane accelerates along the runway. As we start to climb into the air, my gaze climbs to your pretty face and I realise you've opened your eyes, and are staring right at me. When you notice I'm looking at you, our eyes lock, I want to say something, but you reach up for the stewardess call button. My other hand darts across, grabbing the arm you were reaching up with. I pull on your arm, tugging it down and glower into your eyes, shaking my head and mouthing "No!", hoping you get the message that would be a bad idea to attract attention right now.

The way I pulled your arm down pulls you closer to me, my breath hot on your face, but at the same time has cut off my access to your lower body... It presents a different, equally enticing target though... I pull you closer, and just when you think I'm going to kiss you, you realise my other hand is lowering the zip of your hoody. My hand slides inside and finds one of your breasts, over the crop top you're wearing beneath. I seem to be almost weighing your tit in my hand, and my thumb brushes your nipple, drawing an audible gasp from you, and telling me you've no bra on beneath that crop top. Before you realise what I'm doing I've hooked my thumb into the cleavage of that top and pulled it down beneath your beautiful breasts, freeing them both, and the top then pushing them up into my grasp.

My hand slips back over your breast, squeezing hard the flesh around your nipple, fingers digging in, before closing around it and pinching the nipple. You whimper slightly. From the look on your face, it surprises you as much as it does me. I smirk for a moment before hissing "shush! Or I'll find something to shush you with!"

"Please... Stop..." You whisper. "I don't even..." I pinch and twist your nipple to cut you off. You gasp.

"Know your name..." Your voice trails off as you realise I've let go of your arm, but you haven't pulled back. You haven't moved at all. You froze, realising the hand that was holding your arm has placed your hand on my cock, albeit over my trousers, whilst the hand inside your top, happy with how hard one nipple is, has moved to torment the other. You leave your hand on my dick a solid second longer than I expect you to, and you feel it pulse beneath your touch. You stare at your hand horrified, and suddenly pull it back. You seem to me to be stunned into silence, inaction.

I take the opportunity to reach down and pull my pants open, my semi hard cock rising from them. Still, you sit there, mouth agape. I was just going to make you touch it but... I glance up and down the aisle... No stewardess in sight... And I'm not one to miss an opportunity. The hand that was playing with your breasts snakes up and around your head, winding through your hair, pushing your face down to my crotch, your mouth to my waiting cock. The angle isn't easy, my other hand firmly holding my cock to keep it on target. You realise what I'm doing just in time, turning your head.

"What the FUCK are you..." I grip your hair, fiercely yanking your head back, and raise my hips to push my cock towards your face.

"If you bite me, you'll fucking know about it." I hiss, pushing your head down once more.

"Wai... gluck!" My cock finds its mark and the head pops between your lips... You should maybe have kept your mouth shut... Fortunately, for me at least, you're resisting the urge to bite and I'm pretty sure that was your tongue? My other hand joins its brother on the back of your head. I push my hips up at the same time as bracing my weight on your head and pushing you down. I manage to push a couple more inches into your mouth but I can feel you fighting, resisting... And it turns me on. I notice that since I pulled your head down to my cock, I've bent you over the armrest of the seat, and I can reach your ass. With my left hand I reach forward and grab your ass. You attempt to yell... Groan... Scream for help, whatever, as you feel my hand on your ass, and it has the desired effect, breaking your oral resistance, and I'm able to push yet more of my cock into your mouth.

You haven't bit me yet... Or punched me or screamed... So obviously you want me to carry on, right? I start to thrust, pushing my cock into your mouth and and your head down, but the position isn't working, the angle is woeful and hard work, and it benefits your resistance more than it does my persistence.

The pilot starts to talk, apologizing, something about leaving the seatbelt lights on so long, about turbulence at the departure airport. I take a second to half listen, applying no pressure to your head... And yet when I focus back on you, your mouth is still on my cock. Did I just feel you sucking me? Are you... Really... Wanting this? Confusion reigns. Then the pilot says something about turning the seatbelt signs of in a minute but I'm not really listening any more. I hold your head, not applying any pressure, just holding you still, whilst I slowly, gently, rock my hips back and forth. It's the slowest facefuck ever... But you're not fighting it. In fact, I'm sure you're moaning. It's very slight, but I can feel you moaning around my cock.

Your jeans are too tight for my hand to make real progress down the back of them, but I've slid a finger almost to you ass... When it gets there you actively moan... And a little more of my cock slips past your resistance. In the same, slow rhythm that my cock slips between your lips, my finger pushes on your ass. You moan, I take more of your mouth and be throat, my finger probes your ass, you moan, I take more of your mouth and throat. The cycle continues, the slowest head ever, until the audible "bing"...

"The seatbelt lights are now off."

I'm 90% certain I'm the only person awake enough on the plane to notice. The achingly slow facefuck, combined with the frustration of not being able to get at more of that body has me absolutely chomping at the bit. And yet I have to actually try to lift you off of my cock... What the hell is going on here? You look... Almost cum-drunk???

"Puh... Please... We shouldn't...." You start, but I'm not waiting around to listen. I zip up your hoody and my pants and positively drag you from the seat by your arm. All things considered, you're hardly resisting, to the point that the only people who notice me pulling you along the aisle are half awake or people who assume we're just a horny couple.

I push you into the cubicle and realism sets when I realise I almost can't close the door with both of us in there. You manage to turn to look at me, and I take the opportunity to push you down onto the toilet seat. Almost as soon as the door is latched my cock's out of my pants once more, and I'm pointing it towards your face, the low toilet in the cubicle leaving your head at the perfect height... Still, you turn away... But open your mouth... What the hell is with all these mixed signals?

I grab your head with both hands, winding my fingers into your luxurious black locks. You resist, shaking, as I yank your face back to face me.

"Tongue out... Now." I demand. You're slow... Reluctant... But you do give in. You stick out that sexy tongue, and divert your eyes to the floor. "Oh no, princess. Eyes up here..." You resist still... I lift your face and you immediately screw your eyes shut. Even though your mouth is open, your tongue laid out for me, and your face lifted to mine, you won't open your eyes. Until you receive a short, hard slap across the face.

"I didn't want to do that. I want us to have fun." My voice is a gutteral growl. Now you're looking at me. Wide eyed. Terror. And it's such a turn on. "I don't want this to hurt, but if you don't do what I say, when I say it, it will. Clear?" You say nothing. Just nod. There's tears... but there's a fire there, too... A desire.

Lesson learned, you look me in the eyes and slowly stick your tongue back out. I push my hips forward, placing my cock on your outstretched tongue.

"Lick it. Like it's the best lollipop ever." You reach up with your hands. "Oh no. Mouth only." You pause, giving thought, and twitching on your perch on the toilet seat. I suspect you are in conflict, enjoying being told what to do at the same time as hating the control I'm exerting over you. But you do as instructed, and start licking and trailing your mouth along my cock, even paying additional attention to the spots you notice get a rise from me. Your mascara has ran because of your tears, making it impossible for me to tell if you're still crying. Not that I'd care. Your mouth feels fantastic on my cock, and without the armrest of the seat in the way, I've every intention to make it feel better; for me at least. I turn your head back straight and without warning push my cock as far into your mouth as I can. I hit the resistance of your throat about halfway along my shaft, causing you to gag. I hold you there, my gaze fixed on yours, as I pull back slowly, almost fully out of your mouth, then sink back in. You moan audibly around my dick, causing me to do the same. I reach down, clumsily, for the zip of your hoody - trying to free those beautiful breasts from this position isn't easy... Fortunately, you take over and do it for me. A self satisfied smirk paints itself across my face.

"I knew you were a slut the moment I saw you." I slide my cock in and out of your mouth a few more times, suddenly I feel you starting to slurp on it a bit, and that gets me going more. You're probably just trying to get this over with but to me, I'm interpreting it as you wanting this, and more. "I know you can take more, slut." I groan between thrusts, and start to tilt your head back a little. I feel your throats resistance starting to wain, before suddenly finding the angle I was looking for, my cock slipping straight past your defences and into your throat. I push my full length into your mouth, your nose meeting my stomach, and hold you there. "There we go!" I smirk, grabbing and pinching your nose as you gag and choke around my cock. Pinching your nose is a gesture, nothing more; there's no way you can breathe with my cock that deep in your throat. I relish the feeling for a few more seconds, watching the panic set in in your eyes, and feeling you starting to fight again, before I pull right back out of your mouth. Saliva runs from your mouth, dripping from your chin and my cock onto those wonderful tits. You glower at me as though you hate me, want to stab me... But you don't close your mouth. I kept your head held at the same angle so this time, after allowing you to get your breath back for a moment or two, I'm able to plant it right into the back of your throat, in one single thrust. Quickly, I start to build to a steady rhythm, fucking your face as you sit upon the plane toilet.

My balls slapping off your chin and the sounds of my grunting, plus the deliciously nasty slurping sounds cumming from your mouth as I bottom out in your throat reverberate around our tiny cubicle, producing a horny cacophony of noise that really has me going... And before long I'm really fucking your face, using you and specifically your mouth as my toy. I assume it has you going too, as I notice you've undone the buttons of your jeans, and your hand has slipped inside and is furiously working away at your clit. Another moan from you, deep in your throat, sends shivers along my length and up my spine, very nearly tipping me over the edge and again I hold myself as deep as I can in your throat for as long as I dare, but I don't want to finish yet... There's something I else I want first.

As soon I pull my dick from your mouth this time, before you have chance to get your breath back, I haul you to your feet and twist you around. It's not easy in the cramped cubicle, but I manage to get you facing the wall above the toilet. I grab your jeans at the hip, trying to pull them down. You realise what I'm up to, and meekly protest.

"Wait... I'm not on birth control!" My answer is to push your pretty face into the cubicle wall with a growl. You don't even know my name, why the hell would I care about that.

"It's ok. I'll pull out" I sneer as I force your head into the wall, and grab the back of your jeans. Even with the buttons open, they're still tight, so they take your thong down with them as I yank them over your ass. As soon as they are past your knee, I grab one of your ass cheeks, and roughly push them apart, groping and squeezing hard. "You've a hell of an ass, you know. Think yourself lucky I'm a pussy kind of guy." You half yelp, half groan at the attention, whimpering something about me not being able to do this.

"Oh I can. And I'm gonna. You might as well enjoy it." My hand slides under your ass to your pussy, fingers digging into and groping your most sensitive parts. I bring my hand back up, holding it in front of your face. "In fact, it looks like your already are." Pinning you with my body weight and the other hand still holding your face against the cubicle wall, I reach down and rub your juices on the head of my cock, before guiding it along from your ass to your labia, and rubbing it along your lips.

"I've wanted this since I saw you in the terminal. Didn't think for second I'd get to have it though." You squirm and struggle at my words, but even this feels a like a bit of a token gesture; I would have thought you would have put up more of a fight. Slowly, I ease myself into you, head first, eliciting a moan from you, then inch by inch. You're so wet you accommodate me fully with little force.

"I mean... What kind of slut fucks someone they don't know in a plane toilet?" I ease almost fully back out and then slam my hips into you as hard as I can, driving my cock all the way back into your waiting pussy. I continue at this pace for a while, languid downwards and away strokes, before pounding back into you as hard as I can. The hand that was holding your head grabs a handful of hair, now slick with sweat, as the other comes up your front to your chest, grabbing a breast and groping, hard, and then enveloping your nipple in a full hand pinch, fingers digging into the flesh of your boob. You whimper, reaching up to brace yourself against the wall at the brutality of my thrusts, each one now capped by an animalistic grunt from you. I don't like you trying to protect yourself, and my arms grab yours, twisting them behind your back and haphazardly tying them there with your hoody.

My motions pick up pace immediately as I start again, your grunts turn to groans and moans that you try hard to hide, and one hand returns to your hair, pulling your head back towards me, arching your back. The other slips down your stomach, two fingers gliding either side of your clit. They quickly build speed to match that of my hips, now jackhammering into you, and yours are now jolting back to meet each thrust.

"Are you going to cum on my cock, slut?" I whisper, the hand that was in your hair moving to your neck and starting to squeeze. "If you want this to be over any time soon, you will. I never finish first." The fingers of the other hand start to circle your clit, the hand on your neck squeezing tight enough to cut off your air flow. "Cum. You know you want to. Stop fighting it." My fingertips brush over your clit. I don't know if it's that, my choking you or my words that do it, or a combination of them all, but your release hits, and hits hard. Your legs start to shake, which quickly spreads through your whole body. Your breathing becomes erratic, raspy, moaning at every breath. If I wasn't holding you up over the toilet I've no doubt you would have collapsed onto it. And best of all, for me anyway, your cunt clamps down on my cock like a vice.

"Jesus Christ... You're tight for such a whore!" I gasp, having to really fight, really push hard to continue any kind of pace. Before long your pussy spasming brings on my orgasm and I slam as deep into you as I can one last time before I explode inside you. I pump rope after rope of hot, sticky cum into you, grunting myself now, my previously rhythmic motions now twitches and shakes. Eventually, I drop forward, my full body weight pushing you into the wall of the cubicle.

If the post-fuck euphoria takes a long time to leave me, it takes longer to leave you. Or perhaps it's the realisation of what just happened hitting your non-horny brain. You were just fucked (raped) by a stranger in an airline toilet. Moreover, when you leave, everyone will know that's what just happened.

At some point I've stood up. I've pulled up my pants and fastened my belt. You've slumped down onto your knees and the toilet. I give one of your ass cheeks a hard slap.

"I needed that. Best in-flight entertainment ever." I unlatch the door. "I wonder if we're across the state line yet."

... The End ...