7 May 2004
Been away for a few days. Flew up to Bonnie Scotland with Cris, Trish and Phoenix in a big metal bird that they called an air-on-plane. I was scared at first but the tall blond stewardess calmed my fears in the back of the cabin. Afterwards she gave me a sticker and welcomed me to some club. It was nice.
by Little Brucie Campbell Age 7.
No, unfortunately not. There was no shagging at thirty thousand feet. Always and everytime I get on a plane, I immediately start fantasising and fixating on the stewardesses. I think it must be a combination of their uniforms and the fact they are so instilled with a 'Prim and Proper' air of control that makes me want to despoil them so much. I imagine eye contact leading to nods and winks leading to the rendezvous in the toilet at the back of the plane and then the quick stripping of each other all the time with stewardess Melissa remaining in character:
"Please adjust your seat sir, I am coming in to land."
"Please be aware of the three exits. One there, one there and one Oooooo there!"
"Fasten your seatbelt please sir. You should expect a turbulent ride."
The flight to Edinburgh is only slightly over an hour and by the time you have taken off and been served the drinks it is time to land. No time for nookie. That I have never made it with a stewardess slaked my disappointment some but my hopes are high for my approaching flight to Nippon. That is at least ten hours in the air. People will be asleep, Melissa will be bored and I will be initiated into the Mile High Club by a professional flyer.
We were met at Edinburgh airport by P, Trish's sister. She was looking elegant and sophisticated in her business suit with the sexiest pair of black boots I had seen all day, shoulder length blonde hair, extremely attractive sharp features and her dazzling smile. Despite the fact that we had met the summer before down in Bude, she did not acknowledge my presence at all. As we followed her out to her car I took a quick peek at her bottom which was mouthwatering in her tight pinstripe trousers. It was divine. As she strode ahead her ankles were revealed and I could she that her boots were what I like to call 'Keep On Boots.' In that "Take everything off honey but Keep On those Boots!"
We were all staying at P's that evening and I was put in her son's room who was off at university. I met her other kids Jim and Morag. We drank wine and wine and wine. Between the four of us we calculated the next day that we had consumed, as well as the beer and Smirnoff Ices, about seven bottles over the course of the evening which was impressive when you consider that P is not a big drinker. Anyway, the four of us were sitting in the lounge, drunk, with Cris and Trish on one sofa, me on another and P sitting on the floor next to me. Somehow the conversation turned to P and if she had been having any dalliances since her split with Kurt a few years previously. Trish managed to eke out of her the fact that she had not had any sweet loving for a long time and then I exclaimed ,"What you need P is a good hard seeing to!" There was laughter, but I was not joking.
In this sort of developing situation, when I am horny and sitting next to some hot number, I normally suggest a foot massage, you know, to break the ice and let her feel the sexual wisdom incarnate in my hands and fingers. This time I came up with something a little different. P had her knees drawn up to her chest and I was watching her pretty feet as she curled her toes into the carpet. She had red varnish on her toe nails, something that I am normally not overly enamoured with but for some reason, maybe that she was such a small and sexy package, I found them very attractive. So I asked her ,"P can I suck your big toe?" She looked at me with mild incredulity in her eyes and then she laughed as did Cris and Trish and so I asked again. "Okay." she said and sidled her bum over towards me and put her foot in the air in front of me.
I grabbed it, rubbed it a little with my hands and then put my lips over her big toe and sucked. Cris was in mild hysterics at this point, seeing his prim and proper elder sister in law having her toe sucked in front of him by his errant mate and Trish threw a cushion at me. I carried on regardless and started to nibble a little bit in time with my stroking of the arch of P's foot. I could see her eyelids flicker a little as she said "Don't." but I paid no attention to this utterance, which I thought to be the dying gasp of her instilled celibate prudence, because as she said it she slid her bottom closer to me and started rubbing my calf through my jeans.
As is normal in these types of situations when Cris is present, the man plays a blinder. One minute Cris and Trish were sitting there, the next I noticed that one of them was missing and shortly afterwards neither of them were anywhere to be seen. They had stealthily gone to their bedroom, she first with he following in five minutes, without saying a word to the sucker or suckee who were both deeply engrossed in each other, and in such a manner leaving the road open to what may happen without making an issue out of it. What happened was that P noticed that they had gone, then turned her gaze to me, a gaze of evil intent, as she pulled herself up and pushed me down onto the sofa. We kissed and kissed and I grabbed her peachy arse and squeezed.
After a while the combined pressure of P pressing herself against me and the gathering reservoir of processed wine in my gut meant that I had to rapidly disengage and head to the toilet. Just as I had finished the door opened and in came P, smiling a naughty smile. I smiled back, also naughtily, and she turned and shut the door behind her. What followed next is all a little hazy. I do know that noone else in that house went to the toilet for the next five hours as we did not leave the bathroom for that period of time. Let me describe the bathroom. It was a big room, with a bath, toilet and sink, a thick, dark carpet, wall paper that was deeply coloured and, my favourite bit, an old Vitcorian dressing table covered in cases and jars and gels with a massive mirror above it. P and I started on the floor, fucked hard, and then fucked hard some more against the wall. Next I remember standing behind P and encircling her with my arms as we both stood and looked into the mirror. I am six foot three and P five foot three so the contrast was engrossing. P spent ages looking at my arms and legs, as I wrapped them around her petite frame, all the time asking "And how old are you?" I guess she could not believe it as she kept repeating that question no matter how many times I told her I was twenty-seven. Perhaps it was because she was sixteen years older than me and celibate for so long. Perhaps it was because she was having a good time. I am not sure.
Next I remember taking charge and telling her to go and bend over the bath. She kneeled down and wriggled her amazing bum at me and smiled over her shoulder as I approached, cock in hand. I planted it deep into her from behind and started stroking it in and out, long and hard. P was moaning and she got louder and louder.
"O my god Bruce Uuugh your cock Uuugh really is rather Uggggggh big!..."
"It's big and hard and I'm fucking you with it you sexy bitch!" (Notice how my Talk Dirty Self-Teaching lessons have paid off.)
I grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up as I stood up so that we were both standing and I could thrust harder. Her moans were becoming louder and louder and I wondered if she remembered that she had put Cris and Trish into her room which was directly behind the wall we were fucking in front of. I felt her body shiver and I withdrew my dripping cock. I never think that my prick looks bigger then when it has had a recent coating of love juices and the veins on it are rampant. P sighed as it slipped out and as I looked down onto her rear quarters I was seized by the compulsion to do something that I had never really done properly before. I cupped my right hand, raised it and brought it down hard onto her right buttock.
So I did it again.
P was indubitably enjoying it. So was I. So I did it again, really hard, meaning to hurt quite a little bit.
And one last one for luck, as her cheek was inflamed by this point.
Which was nice.
Then we fucked on the floor again, with her on top as her arse was quite sore. I was feeling like a man possessed, overcome with the desire to penetrate this lovely fair lady and so as I drilled upwards I also started to press a finger around her pucker, just pressing lightly at first to add another dimension to her enjoyment and also because I was not sure how she would react. I know there is no reason for a fourty-three year old mother of three to be any less depraved in the bedroom sports arena than a younger indolent like myself, but I thought I'd best play it safe. She seemed to enjoy it. Next I took her from behind again as she used the dressing cabinet for support. That was brilliant because we could both watch one another fucking each other in the mirror. I almost blew my load at that point but managed to hold on as we started to laugh as our strenuous activities unbalanced all the jars and tubes and combes on the top of the dresser. As they fell to the floor we laughed and fucked and then we spent time on the carpet hugging and kissing.
Eventually, at about six in the morning, we made it to the bed I was sleeping in. It was just a single but P seemed to fit perfectly against my body. There was more fucking and sucking and I even finger-fucked her bum for a while which made her squeal in an entirely new way. I think I passed out for about fifteen minutes between bouts, the only sleep either of us got that whole night, and I awoke to see this divine woman looking into my eyes. At about eight, we started hearing people moving about and P started to worry slightly as she was meant to have spent the night on the big couch in the lounge. I was not very helpful because I found the whole situation very amusing. So did she a little, but I think the fact that her teenage offspring were feet away from her sweat soaked and glowing body which was wrapped around the body of someone closer to their ages than hers and utterly satisfied, might have unsettled her slightly. She managed to sneak out eventually and then she popped her head around the door a little later on with a cup of tea for me and to say toodle-oo as she had to go to work.
I eventually arose myself and Cris and I left for the train station to catch a train to Aberdeen to get ready for the Granite City Tattoo Convention that Cris was working at. I was smiling. I saw Trish briefly and she smiled. Cris smiled and, being a mate, asked for all the details as soon as we were alone on the platform. I told him most of it. I had a really big smile on my face for the rest of the weekend. After the convention, we spent another night at P's before we flew home. That is why I am still smiling.