Dutch Courage

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Horny Hour #7

This week’s prompt – One for the road.

I always loved this saying it reminds me of that old drinking song, Show me the way to go home. No idea why but it does. Which leads me to tipsy fumbles in dark alleyways, or sloppy kisses in shop doorways, or stumbling through the door barely letting it close before you’re tearing your clothes off.

What does it make you think of?

What with one thing and another it had been a couple of months since I’d had a weekend at yours. The prospect of a couple of days with no demands, except yours, on my time stretched ahead of me and I wondered what you had planned this time. Your instructions were specific. I went through them again as I waited in the airport for my flight. How decadent to take a domestic flight, but all things considered it was the best option and it added to the experience. To text you when I had boarded, and to text you again when I landed. You would pick me up outside thirty minutes after that.

I checked the contents of my bag, again. Of course I had everything, I must already have checked it twenty times since I had packed. After landing I was to go into the toilets and change. Stockings, short skirt and heels, whatever top I wanted and no knickers. There wasn’t much else in there – phone, purse, fags and of course passport and boarding cards. You’d taken things back with you after your last visit. I felt the nerves start, the thought of waiting for you outside the airport dressed like that. I looked down at myself, the usual outfit of jeans, hoodie and Docs replaced by leggings and flats just to make it easier to change and fit them into my bag. I was already wearing the top, I’d decided on a sleeveless blouse with buttons up the front. The things I did for you, the things I never even considered refusing. As I waited for the door for Departures to open I went outside for a last cigarette before the flight, the joys of a regional airport. As I lit up I thought about the final part of the instructions, get into the car and give you the knickers I’d taken off, no kiss and no talking unless you asked me a question. Any deviation from the instructions would result in some form of punishment to be decided by you depending on the seriousness of the offence. This was new, your taking control like this before we got to your house. I was starting to feel physically sick with the thoughts going through my head, the anticipation, so I tossed the half-smoked cigarette away, went back inside and went to the bar. I didn’t drink often but I needed something to get me on that plane. I downed it pretty quick and as the announcement for my flight was made I signalled the barman again. ‘One for the road?’.

‘Worried about flying?’ He asked.

‘It’s not the flight that bothers me.’ I answered, trying not to down this one as well.

*

‘Boarded.’ I pressed send as I tried to relax against the seat. An hour before I had to think about anything again. I didn’t really like flying but for that hour I was always truly out of reach of anyone, completely by myself. I would usually spend it reading or writing but this time I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the last time I’d visited. I failed. I didn’t need the message back from you ‘Remember the last time.’ The memories came anyway, a series of intense images, thoughts and sensations flooding back into my head. The ropes holding me down, the feel of your hands, lips, and tongue torturing me until I begged for you to stop. And after, the blindfold so I could only hear what you planned to do, the whisper of your belt, the soft clink of the clamp chain. Another message ‘Are you wet yet?’ I replied as they made the announcement to switch off mobiles. ‘Yes Sir. I have to go now.’ I turned off my phone feeling the wetness between my legs as I leant over to put it into my bag on the floor. I was grateful that even though the small plane was pretty full the seat beside me was empty as I shifted position, tried to sit so I wouldn’t leave a wet patch behind me. I closed my eyes again, knowing that this trip was going to be different. We’d come a long way in those few weeks even with the limitations of being at mine. We’d discussed more of our fantasies, things we wanted to try. I’d written a couple of stories for you and now I was beginning to get slightly worried about things. You could be a sadistic bastard sometimes and there had been times when you got that look on your face I’d been happy we were at mine. But that look made me want to be at your house, to give myself up to whatever you wanted to do to me. I wanted more, I wanted for us to be able to make more noise, for you to be able to hurt me more, make me scream, make me cry. I wanted to be able to let go. With all of these thoughts whirling around in my head I was as horny as fuck and wishing I wasn’t stuck on a tiny little plane. I couldn’t even check the time because I don’t wear a watch. I knew there couldn’t be much longer to wait, the cabin crew were doing the clean up run and then the pilot came on. Ten minutes, I looked out of the window and tried to think of other things as the airport came into view.

HH One for the road

More Horny Hour here.

6 thoughts on “Dutch Courage

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