I’d spotted them before we even boarded, there was a group of them, I made up stories about who they were. They looked like a mismatched, yet belonging together group. Young, respectful man children. In my mind I determined they were on a God mission from the church traveling, trying to convert us sinners.

Two of them sat next to me on the flight, it was early, we were all weary. Before long my whole row was asleep, I looked over at the two boys in dreamland. My mind drifted. The one directly next to me was blond, he looked mid-west, not like the others. He is young, very young, too young. He is not a man and not boy, but languishing in that state of flux between manhood and childhood. Do I remember what that time was like, will they? He had features of both, man and boy–his body tall-lanky, his muscles still forming, his eyes have seen, but not really. I figured them to be about 17 or 18.

As he slept I watched his dark pink lips slightly flutter with each exhale, his tongue palpitated between the split of his mouth, his row of perfect white teeth looking at me. What has these lips tasted, what have these teeth bitten into? Is he still a virgin? These thoughts circle my mind and I begin to feel like a dirty old woman, this boy would make me cougar material. I forget about him and drift into my own.

When I wake up he is still asleep, his thigh now pressed against mine, does nothing to curtail my lust for the young boy. I begin to ponder what his cock is like. Is he growing stiff while he sleeps, will he wake with a hard on, will the rise in his baggie jeans be detectable? What would his reaction be to my hand reaching over and stroking him, feeling just how hard he is for myself. How would his grateful cock react to my hand, even more–to my mouth? Cock worship.

Under my own airline issued blanket I caress my kitty under my skirt, but on top of my tights, feeling my pussy growing full, which then makes me wet, I switch to my tits, hand under my shirt–I pinch my nipples as hard as I can, without anyone noticing what I was up to. I continue to glance at the sleeping boy next to me, fascinated with the idea of what his beautiful lips could do to. What would they taste like covered in my juice?

Drifting again in and out of a travelers sleep, I wake to find the young man studying some flash cards. I ask him what he is studying. He tells me he is on his way to the Navy, to boot camp. The group of them had enlisted, volunteered for military duty. Instantly I am conflicted, I have respect for what these boys are doing, but am, for the most part, diametrically opposed to what the military is doing. I ask them if they’re scared, they nod emphatically yes, in doing so they look innocent, like boys, like children. I keep mouth shut about my oppositions to the military and we talk about their nerves, where they are from, their families. I don’t mention the war, but when I asked them if they were scared, what I really meant was,  are you ready to die?

The flight came to an end, the young blond gets my bag down for me and flashes a warm smile with those pink red lips, I shake my head and tell them best of luck. My fantasies having this young man have made me wet and eager, ready to get plowed.