I desperately wanted to touch him – well it actually – but I didn’t dare. Instead, I feigned sleep myself and allowed my leg to fall softly against his outstretched left leg. I contented myself with this for a good few minutes while he offered no resistance, and in my mind, I came about three times thinking about him and that still semi-erect organ lying just inches away from me.
Then he woke, drew his legs up and started shuffling. I realised he was unpacking his blanket, which he then arranged across himself, pulling it up over his front with both his arms inside under the blanket. Now my view and the bodily contact were lost and I thought, “Oh well, it was lovely while it lasted”.
While he lay back there, he now had the head-phones on and was watching something on the view-screen in front of him. However, after a few moments, I realised that the blanket wasn’t entirely static. I could tell that his left arm has resting on his leg but his right hand seemed to be near his genitals – you know, the way all men do. But there was a tiny amount of movement down there – almost undetectable (except to the eye of an expert like me!) and it was definitely a gentle but repetitive movement. He was pleasuring himself! Mind you, I could hardly expect otherwise; he was 19, had just had 2 beers at 55,000 feet and had just woken from a sexy dream with a semi. He was bored and horny!
It was decision time for me. If this continued unabated, he was surely going to get frustrated and seek an outlet. He would most probably get up and go to the toilet and wank off in there. Was I brave enough to follow him? Indeed, was it even practically possible for me to “muscle-in” with him without anyone seeing or without me causing a scene? He was hardly likely to invite me, was he? There was only one thing for it.
I slowly and deliberately slid my arm over the centre arm-rest and into the gap between the side of his seat and his leg, presently covered by the blanket. He was awake, so I figured his reaction to this would be instantaneous, one way the other. And I was right. As the side of my arm touched him, he started. But he didn’t do anything – he just sat there, as if nothing was happening. It was possible he was terrified and didn’t know what to do. As he sat there, I slid my hand under the edge of the blanket and turned my palm until it rested against his thigh. He still didn’t move. I spread my fingers across his outer thigh until – electricity! My little finger made contact with the little finger of his left hand on the top of his leg. With just this contact, I stroked his finger and, to my amazement, instead of pushing my hand away, he slowly turned his head toward me and looked at me, full in the eyes. I looked back at him, with my heart pounding in my ears as his eyes flicked down to where my hand now rested, and then back to mine. He slowly turned his head away, breathed-in deeply, lay his head back and closed his eyes. As he did so, his little finger began “playing” with mine. It was his consent.
After a minute or two of this, I began to wriggle my hand under his hand and onto the top of his leg. He kept his hand over mine and it felt warm and sweaty. I gently squeezed his leg and felt a reciprocal twitch of his leg muscles, as his hand squeezed mine. He knew what I was up to and he liked it!
Still covered by the blanket, I moved my hand across to the inside of his thigh. As I did so, he lifted his left arm under the blanket and gently placed it down in the gap beside his seat underneath my own arm. Meanwhile, his right hand, which had been over his genitals, he used to adjust the blanket over himself, lifting it gently across until it came to rest across his stomach. The position was now perfect; with my elbow resting against his pelvis, my hand came to rest on the now quite hard bulge down his trousers, which I caressed, pushing my fingers down into the gap between his legs, filled by his balls. As I proceeded to slowly massage his organ through the material of his track-suit and boxer-shorts, I could feel him throbbing in the palm of my hand. Whether he was doing it deliberately or involuntarily I don’t know but every time I stopped massaging him, he seemed to signal with a pulse through his tool, while the fingers of his right hand gently stroked my arm. I decided to take it to the next stage.
I swung my hand and arm up towards his waist and slid the palm of my hand onto the naked flesh beneath his ‘T’ shirt. Then I slid my hand under the waistband of his boxers and back down towards his groin. As I made this move, I felt the first sign of resistance; his right arm came down to press on mine, as if to block this “entry” but I was too close to my prize to give up now and my hand was able to wriggle under the weight of his arm, into the warm hallows. The pressure on my arm relaxed; he was obviously excited and didn’t really want me to stop! I now felt the warmth of his groin and the matted bush of his pubic hair, his balls, soft but firm and already tight from his excitement, and his organ, now long and hard and dead straight down the leg of his boxers. I grasped it firmly. He was uncircumcised and with my index finger, I began teasing the flesh covering its tip.
I immediately discovered that he was already oozing pre-cum. He was definitely excited. And rock-hard. Between my index finger and thumb, I pulled back the skin to reveal the head and I heard him gasp involuntarily as my fingers now wrapped the swollen and slippery head of his tool. My thumb now played on the top-side of his organ while my other fingers tickled and teased the sensitive underside, gently rubbing his organ against the inside of his soft thigh, making it slippery with pre-cum. Every few seconds, I would just hold and gently squeeze his organ and feel his uncontrollable throbs as he became more and more aroused.
Here was a 19 year-old, with a stonking hard-on, fully aroused and dribbling pre-cum in my hand, breathing heavily now and swallowing hard. He wanted to cum and nothing was more important to him at this moment. He was breathing in short, stifled breaths and as I looked at the profile of his face, I could see his nostrils dilated. His eyes were still closed and he was relishing the moment. And I was now soaking my own briefs with the excitement! But suddenly, his right hand appeared out of nowhere to rest firmly on top of the blanket and my own hand underneath. Surely he hadn’t changed his mind all of a sudden, at this late stage? His hand pressed down hard and squeezed mine, and he whispered hoarsely, “No – Stop!” but my fingers continued their teasing motion under his grip and seconds later he let out a stifled gasp, as I heard him whisper, “Oh, shit…no…” and his whole body gave a shudder, arching deep into his seat as his head lifted forward from his head-rest, while his swollen, slippery tool suddenly exploded into the fingers of my hand – two, three, four, five, six times I felt the cum coursing down the whole length of his organ and out through my hand, all over his leg and into the cotton of his boxers. He was trying to cover-up his gasping for air by breathing heavily through his nose now but he still he hadn’t done – seven, eight, nine times I continued to count as his organ pulsed powerfully and jetted still more & more cum into my hand until at last, the pulses became less and less intense and he breathed-in in one big deep breath and let it out in final satisfaction, as his head gently fell back against his seat, his eyes still closed.