We were excited and nervous when we boarded the plane. I had on a lacy stretch top and a short black skirt for easy access.

When the seat-belt light went off, his hand began inching its way up under my skirt. I felt a wave of sudden heat rush through my body. I unbuckled the belt, got up, and headed for the restroom, knowing he’d follow. I didn’t have to wait very long. A few seconds later, he pushed open the door to the tiny compartment. I pulled him inside and locked the door behind him.

Undaunted by the cramped quarters, he worked his way down to my navel, briefly caressing it with his tongue. He continued kissing his way down until his tongue stroked the inside of my folds, searching for that hidden sweet spot. When he found it, my body — already trembling — shook violently as I was rocked by a tremendous climax.

I gripped his shoulders and pulled him up. I unbuttoned his jeans and found his stiff dick waiting for me. I lowered my head and ran my tongue down the length of his shaft. Oh, God, I wanted him so much. I guided my tongue toward his balls and sucked them one at a time into my mouth. His cock was jumping in anticipation of my hot, wet mouth. I placed my lips over the head and slowly took him in. Sucking him off always felt so right, but he wanted to get inside me, and our time was limited.

He pulled me up and sat me atop the sink. I felt the rush coming — that overwhelming excitement right before the initial thrust. He knew me so well. His lips covered mine, muting my scream. All I could do was moan as I sucked his tongue in rhythm with his thrusts. Overwhelmed with passion and lust, we both finally climaxed.

We dressed ourselves, shared one last, long kiss, and left the small compartment one at a time to return to our seats. While we shared some wine, I mentally crossed “jet” off my list of interesting places to have sex.