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  Title Page

  LANDING STRIP

  A House of Erotica Collection

  Publisher Information

  Landing Strip

  published in 2014 by House of Erotica

  an imprint of Andrews UK Limited

  www.houseoferoticabooks.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © House of Erotica 2014

  Cover Design by Nick Tiseo

  The right of House of Erotica to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Pen Pals

  Erin Pim

  A woman struggles with monogamy in a job that constantly keeps her away from her boyfriend. At the peak of her loneliness, she receives his permission to engage in a cyber pen pal relationship while she’s away with work. Her mood is so much improved, that her boyfriend encourages her to sleep with her pen pal, if the opportunity arises. The cyber sweethearts’ first meeting ensues when they coincidentally end up on the same flight.

  Thank god you can text on planes nowadays.

  I have a boyfriend, but I don’t see him nearly as much as I would like. I love him, truly; but I find myself craving company on those lonely nights. Especially when I travel for work. Often, I spend nights alone in a hotel room, masturbating. It’s embarrassing how many times I can admit to that, lately. I lie there, thinking about contacting a man in the area, perhaps through the internet, and asking him to come up to my room. My boyfriend and I have talked about an open relationship, but neither of us is wanting or willing to take it that far. We want to be monogamous, but our careers keep us apart all too often. But, something catches my eye.

  Lately, while I’m away, I’ve been browsing through posts online. I live vicariously through these people; these people that advertise their needs and desires so openly to each other on the web’s pages.

  “Stopping over in London for six hours. Anyone available for a night of sexy fun?”

  “I’ll be at the Hotel Espresso tonight. Looking for a woman to spend a discrete evening with, as I have a partner out of town.” I even get off on postings that don’t so directly apply to my situation:

  “9 inches, thick, and cut. Fit, 35 year old Caucasian, with an easy going personality. If we click, would like to make it a regular thing.”

  We’re so faithful and honest with each other, that I told my boyfriend about my extracurricular reading. To my surprise, he actually encouraged me to make a posting next time I was alone, just for the excitement of getting a few responses directed my way. He thought that it might keep me busy on one of my many nights away traveling. Reassured by the fact that I wouldn’t be following through with any of them, I decided to make the post. I modeled it after the many I had seen, and what I truly would write, if I were doing it for real.

  “Attractive, slim, mid-thirties, and looking for a night of passion while away for work in Toronto. Must be fit, discreet, and willing to travel to my hotel. Provide a picture with your response, and we’ll go from there.” Though unsure that my boyfriend would approve, I also attached a tasteful picture of my torso only, while wearing a sexy bra. The forum provided me with a temporary email address for responses, and, satisfied with my submission, I hit the “post” button.

  A couple uncomfortable minutes go by, and then I hear the satisfying “ping” of a new email. Excitedly, I retrieve it.

  “What hotel are you at, sexy? Details please.” No picture, but am impressed I got a response so quickly. Another “ping”, as I’m reading it.

  “44 year old with 8 inch cock here. Very willing to please! Call me, sweetheart.” Followed by his numbers, and a picture of his limp dick. Interesting choice. “Ping.”

  “Hi there, how are you on this fine night? That bra looks a little restrictive. Maybe I can help you out of it! Give me a shout back if you like my pics.” An attractive, normal looking guy this time, taking the pictures shirtless, with his cell phone in a mirror. “Ping.”

  “Ping, ping, ping.”

  It’s the first night in a hotel that I can recall, in which I didn’t feel lonely. All the positive attention kept me either giggling, gagging, or rolling my eyes in turn. It took me hours to go through the hundred or so emails, and they only stopped after I deleted the posting, because I wanted to call it a night. You would think that my dreams would be plagued with the dozens of dick pics I just looked through, but lying in this foreign room, on this hard mattress, I was thinking about one response:

  “Hello! I have a bizarre proposition. I realize it’s not exactly what you’re looking for (according to your posting), but I wanted to take a risk and send you a message, anyway. I’m an attached male, and for that reason am unable to see you in person, but was wondering if you would be interested in a sexy pen pal. Email, even texting, if you’re able. Sending each other pictures, flirting, telling each other sexy stories? Does that sound like something you would enjoy? Check out my pictures, and give me a shout back if you’re interested. Would love to hear more about you. Cheers, Dan.”

  He looked sweet in his picture. Nice smile, clothes on. I wonder if my boyfriend would approve. I respond, feeling that this is something he might want for me.

  Over the next month, Dan and I talk about everything from our daily lives, to our significant others, to what we enjoy in the bedroom. We not only send pictures of our bodies, but our special occasions, and surroundings. We connect. That is, as much as you can connect with someone, without actually speaking to them. I realize that, yet can’t help myself from constantly checking my email, hoping to see one from Dan. During my day, I mentally jot down a list of what I’d like to tell him, as it’s happening. I see my boyfriend less and less, but my heart isn’t yearning for him when he isn’t there. I still immensely enjoy his company; maybe even more so, now that half of it isn’t spent being regretful of what we’ve missed, or sad about when we will see each other next. This is the much like the open relationship we’ve always talked about, and I am seeing firsthand how it would improve our lives. He notices my improved state, and brings up the topic.

  “Well, I have an email friend,” I admit. “A pen pal, really. One of the guys from the website.”

  “I had a feeling it was something like that. You’re happier than I’ve seen you in a while.” He pauses. “Do you want to sleep with him?” I swallow, nervously.

  “It’s hard to say. I haven’t even met him. It’s just kind of flirty, at this point. I’m not sure I want it to go there.”

  “If you have the opportunity, I want you to do it.”

  “What? No. We’ve talked about this. I love you.”

  “I know you do. And I love you. I want you to be happy, baby.” I smile, feeling like I love him more than I ever have.

  “Well, we’ll see. Ok?”

  “Ok.”

  Still not sure of whether I would take my boyfriend up on the offer, Dan and I begin texting. It feels more intimate, and I love being able to contact my new friend throughout the day. Soon, I find myself coming near Toronto again, and I’m eager to let him know.

 
“Flying into Detroit for the night. Arriving at 9:30pm. Will text you when I get on the plane!”

  “Wait. Are you on your usual airline? What flight are you on?”

  “Mexico 104. Why?”

  “Just curious. Make sure you text me, ok?”

  “Uhh, ok,” I respond, tentatively. What does he have planned?

  As I check in and prepare for boarding, I run the possibilities through my mind. We haven’t talked about meeting, let alone sleeping together, so I doubt he’s planning to come to my hotel. That would be pretty presumptuous on his part. Maybe this whole thing has been a con, and all a tactic to eventually keep me as his mistress. Hmm. But, it’s an awful long drive from Toronto just to surprise me with a first time meeting, and perhaps have a glass of wine at the airport bar. Eventually, time reveals it.

  “Ok! I’m on board, and we’re taking off. What’s up?”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Haha, oh wouldn’t you like to know!”

  “What class are you in?”

  “Why?”

  “Middle class, with a tan trench coat?” I don’t respond for a moment. He continues with, “I’m on the same flight.”

  For some reason, I duck down, and hide. I check behind me, making sure that I was indeed wearing my trench. The elderly lady sitting next to me gives me a concerned look.

  “Nauseous?” She asks. “I have something for that, if you would like.” I try to smile, while peering around her in a paranoid fashion.

  “No, thank you. I think I’m alright now.” My phone vibrates with another text from Dan.

  “Still there? I think I saw you. For real.”

  “Really? That’s impossible!”

  “Are you on the flight or not?” I strongly consider lying.

  “Well, yes.”

  “Me too! When we can remove our seat belts, meet me by the washroom.” I swallow.

  “Ok.”

  Oh my god. I can’t believe I’m going to meet him! What if he doesn’t live up to my expectations? Or I don’t meet up to his? It’s easy to impress someone when you’re typing thoughtful messages, and exchanging attractively lit pictures. My stomach sinks.

  “Maybe I will take that after all,” I say, holding my hand out to the lady beside me.

  Time again moves forward. The seat belt light goes off. I hear a couple people make their way to the washroom, and turn to see if I recognize anyone. An older man, a mother with a young girl. Nope. I wait until the coast is clear, then stand up to meet my secret admirer. I stand outside one of the stalls, but I don’t see him. I double check that these are the only washrooms in middle class. A couple people come, and go. A few more minutes go by, and I wish I had brought my phone. All are vacant, except one. Everyone else is comfortably seated, settling in for the flight. I contemplate going back to my seat, but my eyes drift back to the “occupied” status of the remaining stall. I quietly knock. And before I know it, I’m getting pulled inside.

  Dan. I’d recognize him anywhere. Even three inches away from my face, in the crowded stall. He looks every bit as attractive as his pictures, and I find myself shocked, and speechless. A smile comes to his lips, and I feel the same thing happen to mine. I shake my head slightly, in disbelief, and I open my mouth to speak, but he stops me from putting words to the feeling. He leans forward, planting a passionate kiss on my mouth.

  I aggressively kiss him back, feeling instantly that I want him right now, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’m torn between wrapping myself completely around him and parting slightly to rip off my clothing. He makes the decision for me, keeping our clumsy, wanting mouths linked, while unbuttoning both our shirts. I can’t wait! It takes too long. His tongue reaches into my mouth, and I seal my lips around it, sucking him, like I hope to do with his cock. My tongue dances around his, feeling so warm and wet that I want to shrink and climb in his mouth, and have him lick my all over. I am relieved and ecstatic to feel his face in my hands; his stubble from the day, his strong jawline working simultaneously to connect with me and let me in.

  There is nowhere to put our clothes, so they stay on. He reaches into my open blouse for my breasts, and I moan into his ear, as he kneads them in his hands, through my lace bra. I feel my nipples harden, as he moves his hands over me. His mouth moves to my bare neck, kissing it as hungrily as he did my lips, digging his hands into my hair, and holding it to the side as he does so. My fingers touch his short, buzzed hairline, and play with his soft ears like the erogenous zones they are for me. It reminds him of my own ears, and he takes a lobe into his mouth, and pulling harshly. The sound of his biting and sucking makes my pussy gush. The sudden warm feeling between my legs makes me moan a little louder than perhaps I should, but I don’t care. He put one of his hands over my lips, and I greedily take one of his fingers into my mouth. It plays with my tongue, swirling around it, and coating my lips with moisture.

  Dan peels back the cups of my bra, and puts my breasts on display. I can feel him smile at the sight of them, as he briefly kisses me on the mouth, before leaning forward to play with them. Being taller than I expected, there isn’t room for him to bend, so he has to sit of the edge of the closed toilet seat. He draws his arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, between his legs, and eagerly takes a breast into his mouth. He grabs the other in his hand, flicking the nipple with a free finger. My pussy is dying to be touched. He is driving me absolutely wild, made all the more desperate by the fact that we could be interrupted at any moment, and potentially never get another chance.

  Between his knees, I can press myself against him. As he goes from breast to breast, licking each nipple, I lean into his crotch, feeling his erection against my thigh. I’ve seen a picture of it, but as with everything else I’ve seen so far, I expect it to be in more impressive in person. He reaches down to unzip his fly, and release it. It’s too far down for me to reach, but I see it spring out of his pants. The moment I see his cock, I know I have to have it in me, airplane washroom or not.

  I lean down to meet his lips with mine, but also to unclasp my skirt, and hike it up over my hips. Bent, I can finally grasp his massive erection, and I stroke it in my hand. I relish feeling the taught skin along the shaft, and the soft head, plump like a pair of lips fused together. I toy with the tiny hole at the top, running my fingers along the seam underneath. Dan gives up a soft moan, and reaches forward to touch me between my legs. No doubt he can feel how moist I am through the material. He pushes my underwear to the side, and finally touches my bare clit. He smiles at my wetness, kissing me deeper, and moving his fingers over my pussy. I step out of my underwear, and kick them as far as they will go, in the tiny room. We’ve slowed down, but are suddenly hit with an urgency to fuck. Our mouths devour each other, and we wrap our arms around each other again. Linked at the lips, he unbuttons his pants completely, and I lift myself over him, positioning myself over his cock.

  He holds his dick up by the base for me, and I easily find the tip. I slowly sit onto him, and we release a sigh into each other’s mouths. The feeling of his thick cock stretching me open is unbelievably sexy, and I begin to bounce on his lap, relaxing around him with ease. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, almost like he is trying to connect the two appendages inside me. He fucks me like this; furiously, at both ends, and I already feel like I could come.

  If his mouth left mine, I’d scream in ecstasy. Instead, muffled moans barely break the din of the overhead fan. Or so we hope. I think I hear a knock at the door. His cock rubs against my g-spot again and again, and I can’t hold it in any longer. And, I don’t see any reason to, as we should be wrapping this up as soon as possible. I come aggressively on his cock, feeling my juices coat his lap. He continues fucking me for only another moment; as he was just as close, lifting my hips off of him just in time. The quarters are so close, his come doesn’t even have a chance to hit the flo
or.

  “I better sneak out,” I say breathlessly, well aware that it’s the first set of words either of us have even spoken to each other. He smiles, breathing heavy, pulling my face back to his for a final kiss. I grab a piece of toilet paper, quickly wipe myself, and put my ear to the door. I peek out, and when the coast is clear, I’m gone.

  Walking down the aisle back to my seat, I hear a stewardess knock on the door. I turn back just in time to see Dan nonchalantly exit, solo. She takes a surprised look around the stall, and shuts the door behind her.

  Seated again, and safe, the lady beside me asks, “Not feeling well dear? I know,” she says, patting my leg. “I don’t like flying either.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind it,” I happily respond, closing my eyes to sleep the rest of the trip.

  Coffee, Tea or Him

  Megan Hussey

  As a veteran pilot, Capt. Stella Marin finds nothing more thrilling than the experience of flight; that is until she meets Joshua Pike, a gorgeous young flight attendant who stops at nothing to entice and seduce her. Soon the two are enjoying an affair that flies them to new heights of ecstasy.

  “I’ll say this one more time. The steward stays.”

  Seated in the cockpit of a sleek ivory 747, Capt. Stella Marin stared out a clear-planed window at the vision of a Florida morning; an ebullient panorama of golden sun, azure sky and tall, swaying palms.

  Yet even this picturesque vision, one that surrounded the clear open runaway at Clearview Municipal Airport, did little to quell the rising agitation that gripped her heart and soul.

  “If he goes,” she told Ronald Freeman, owner and executive director of the small city airport in this coastal, tropical community, “I go.”

  Ronald sighed.

  “Stella, you’ve been my top pilot at this airport for nearly 20 years,” he insisted. “Why would you put your career on the line for some twenty something male bimbo?”