Page 82 of The Woman in 3B

She thrust a solid hand down the front of my nylons and her fingers worked past the top of my underwear to my naked sex. I heard her quiet groan when she discovered the liquid that had accumulated between my thighs.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” she hissed.

I leaned into her arm. “It’s all for you.”

Her free arm wrapped tight around my waist. My backside pressed hard against the bathroom sink. I tried to spread my legs for her, but between the tight confines of the airplane bathroom and my sheer nylons, there was little else I could do.

Her fingers moved quickly inside me. It was inelegant and rough; her knuckles dug into my pelvic bone, but her curling fingers had located the extra sensitive anterior location in my sex. I knew her wrist must have felt like it was breaking, but she didn’t let on or complain.

A nimble thumb swiped against my clit and didn’t stop. Anissa covered my mouth with her own to muffle the noise of my obvious pleasure. The constant churning of the plane’s turbofan engines were no match for the sounds I wanted to let loose.

I tried to be quiet. I tried to not slam my palms against the narrow sink area. Over two hundred passengers and two of my friends were on the other side of the flimsy plastic door. But if anything, that singular realization prompted me to orgasm more quickly rather than turn me off.

Anissa’s fingers stilled inside me as my muscles spasmed around her. She continued to stroke my clit, but only until I could take no more.

Our foreheads lightly touched together. I was sure mine was a sweaty mess, but I was too exhausted to care.

“You’re amazing,” I breathed out.

“Glad I convinced you to have sex in a port-a-potty?”

Her question pulled a quiet laugh from my lips. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“I was about to say the same thing about my right hand,” she chuckled.

I brought her aforementioned hand up to my mouth and kissed it. Her warm, hazel eyes widened as I drew her index and middle finger into my mouth. I lightly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on her digits.

Anissa bit down on her lower lip. “Fuck.Are you sure we have to go back out there so soon?”

“I’m on the clock, and you have to return to your seat, Ms. Khoury.”

“Always such a rule follower,” she sighed. “Okay. So, how do we do this? Does one of us go out there and then the other person waits for a while before leaving?”

I pulled my skirt down and wiggled it back into place. “You act as if I’m the expert at this.”

Anissa wrapped her fingers around my biceps and drew me in close. Her lips brushed against mine. “Are you still having lunch with me on our layover?”

“Only if you let me pay.”

Anissa laughed and playfully pushed me, although in our tight confines, there wasn’t really anyplace for me to go. “Not a chance. I’ve got those Flight Gods to appease.”

I stuck out my lower lip. “What about appeasing me?”

Anissa wiggled close again, close enough to kiss the tip of my nose. “I thought I’d just done that.”

After a final lingering kiss, I exited the bathroom first. I figured a flight attendant would draw less attention than a beautiful passenger. I calmly strode down the center aisle. We were in our final descent, yet I had to remind a few passengers to return their seats to the upright position or to stow their laptops.

The pounding of my heart had nearly returned to normal by the time I slipped into my jump-seat at the front of the plane. Kent and Gemma were already fastened into their respective seats.

Kent curled his lip at my arrival. “Still think it’s romantic, Gemma?”

My friend sighed dreamily. “Yep.”

“Fix your lipstick, Alice,” Kent scowled. “You’re a mess.”

I wiped the pad of my thumb across my bottom lip. A bright pink color stained the skin. “It’s not mine,” I couldn’t help brag.

From my jump-seat I had an unobstructed view of the First Class cabin. Anissa had returned to her seat and was trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Her hair was a little disheveled, but only just so. Her lipstick had been kissed off her mouth, but I doubted anyone but me would have noticed.

I stared in her direction until she spotted me. When I caught her eye, she pursed her lips and blew me a kiss. While still strapped to my jump-seat, I pretended to flail my arms in the air to capture the airborne kiss, like a baseball player catching a foul-tipped ball.

“Lesbians,” I heard Kent mutter in disgust.

I wasn’t going to apologize for being happy. I ignored Kent’s jab and shared a happy, dopey smile with the woman in 3B.