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WaterBabyKate

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  1. Thanks!! I hope it wasn't a once in a lifetime sighting, but if it was, damn it was a good one. :)
  2. First of all, I wish this had happened on my flight home from Houston. It would have made for a much better title, but alas, this was on my short hopper flight from Dallas to Austin on Friday evening. I always try to get a window seat, but on this leg, the flight was nearly to capacity when I bought my ticket, leaving me with only the middle seat as an option. The window seat beside me remained vacant after I boarded, and I secretly hoped my seat mate had canceled his or her flight so me and my child-bearin' hips didn't have to be squished beside the poor gentleman on the aisle. As the flight attendant was shutting the overhead compartments, I smiled and remarked to my neighbor, "looks like we got upgraded to the only first class seats in coach," and slid over to the window, leaving the seat empty in the middle. My aisleside seatmate was decidedly unamused by my commentary, flicked his eyes to me and back to the headrest in front of him, and did not so much as crack a smile at my dumb joke. Shrugging, I popped in my headphones and plugged them into the screen in front of me. After a few minutes, a sandy haired, 40-something, solidly built man in a light, warm gray suit came barreling down the aisle, bag in hand, face red from what I assumed was running to make this flight. I silently prayed that I'd get to keep my new seat, but after he and the visibly annoyed flight attendant found a place for his bag in a bin a few spots behind me, he doubled back and gestured at our row. "That's me, sorry," he said as I sheepishly unplugged my headphones and began to scooch. "No, no, I was just stealing your spot thinking it was empty. I'm sorry!" The aisleside gentleman sighed heavily as he unplugged his headphones, rose from his seat and backed into the flight attendant. "Ooh! Folks, let's everyone grab your seats so we can safely clear the cabin." Gray suit apologized again and looked as though he wanted to say something to the attendant, but thought better of it and slid against me into the row. Grumpy Aisleside refused to budge backward an inch to let me make room. Suit and I settled into place, and Grumpy plopped into his seat, swiftly slamming the armrest into place between us with a "thwak." I glanced to my right at Gray, who raised his eyebrows toward Grumpy and met my eyes with a subtle rolling of his own. I stifled a giggle and gave him a quick wink. Our travelmate was clearly feeling very put upon and had no problems making sure everyone around him was aware he was being quite inconvenienced by this whole traveling-with-other-human-beings business. The next half hour had passed somewhat uneventfully save for some turbulence that prevented the drink service from coming through. "Ladies and gentleman, we've got a bit of a patch of rough air ahead of us, so I've decided to suspend the beverage service for this flight so your flight attendants can stay seated safely. I'm keeping the seatbelt lights on for the time being, and we apologize for the inconvenience. If you would, please stay seated as we go ahead and prepare to land in beautiful Austin, Texas. Thank you for flying with us tonight, we'll begin the descent here in a moment." The captain clicked off and I glanced from my in-flight TV out the window to see if I could see the city from our angle. Gray quickly straightened up so I could see through the window. As I watched for the lights of Congress bridge to appear, he bent forward and his head blocked my view again. He sat up within a second and shifted uncomfortably in his seat and I noticed his face grimace a bit. I felt heat rush to my face and wondered- hoped, really- that dear Gray Suit might be holding back a bad urge to pee. I pretended to fiddle with my phone in my lap and hoped my hair hid my face while I strained my eyes as far right as I could without looking too obvious that I was devouring every sign of his predicament. His hands clenched into balls; his left fist kneaded his thigh and his right fist lightly tapped his right knee. He shifted and bent forward again, and settling into place, he began to bounce his right leg in a quick little pattern. I couldn't figure out how to watch these events unfolding without looking completely obvious, and for a few moments I weighed the possibility of being embarrassed caught staring against the idea that this is literally a thing I've been dying to witness in person for *my whole life.* And I was already kicking myself for having missed Gray's signs of distress during the first half hour of the flight. The aircraft pulled a bit and rumbled over a small patch of turbulence. Beside me, Gray inhaled sharply as he lifted off of the seat, ass muscles clenching hard beneath him. His hands made a move for his crotch, but instead of grabbing as I hoped they would, he squeezed his left hand into a fist again, pushing it into his thigh with his right hand. His leg jiggling resumed, and as he slid his hand over his waist, I thought I noticed him push down slightly into his lap. I flicked my eyes toward the window again, leaning forward, pretending to be very interested in the city lights dancing thousands of feet below. We had to be a good 15 minutes from landing still, and he looked positively desperate to be off of this plane. With my eyes gazing disinterestedly out of the window, I could see his pinched face in my periphery. He straightened his leg beneath him and rubbed his thigh, then pulled it back underneath him, shifted a bit, and fanned them in and out a few times. I tried to act nonchalant and fussed with my phone again, while beside me, Gray suddenly gasped, shut his legs together, and grabbed at his knees to push them together more tightly. He leaned forward, his head unexpectedly meeting the screen on his headrest. He tensed himself like this for a moment, completely still until he blew out a puff of air and straightened again, lifting his ass off of the seat and pushing his back into his chair as though he were acting out a casual stretch. Of course, I was unconvinced that he was casually stretching anything except the walls of his poor tortured bladder. As the plane shook and lowered forcefully into the choppy night air, Gray abandoned his casual pose and groaned audibly. He finally glanced toward me, and I hoped in the dim light he couldn't see the blush creep into my face knowing I had been caught noticing his desperation. Still staring at my phone, I composed myself and tried to glance casually toward him, but he was leaned forward, eyes on Grumpy. Gray met my glance and I gave him a small polite smile. I leaned back as though stretching and looked toward Grumpy, who was napping as though spread out on a hotel bed and not sitting at a 90 degree angle on a plane which was was shaking and pitching intermittently on its rough descent into Austin. The plane dropped again, and this time it proved to be more than Gray could control without pushing down into his crotch. He leaned forward again and used his other hand to pull at his suit jacket, attempting fruitlessly to cover the hand jammed firmly against his thigh. He shifted his leg up after his jacket refused to cooperate in the ruse, in an attempt to block me from seeing his childish maneuver. As the plane slowed again and the captain rattled off instructions to the crew, I pretended to look out the window again. Gray's face was a picture of resolve, brow furrowed and covered in a damp sheen, eyes shut, mouth a firm, serious line. I took the opportunity to look directly at his crotch, and as his leg bounced rapidly, his trousers revealed the stiff outline of his dick straining against the moving fabric. I felt a heat grow in my belly and my heart pound in my ears. My head swiveled forward again and my hands absently fiddled with the home screen on my phone. God, if only I could record this without anyone seeing. The plane slowly descended further, when suddenly Gray seemed to remember his jacket again and made a move to try and wiggle himself out of it, using the opportunity to twist one leg over the other in what I assumed was a measure of relief for him. He elbowed my arm in his attempt and quickly apologized. I looked at him and waved it off, but he was not paying the slightest bit of attention to me as he struggled to pull his arm free. I heard him grunt as another wave of urgency must have hit. He winced, gave up back into his jacket quickly and pushed down hard on his dick. He lifted his ass cheek, then changed his mind and bent forward, but neither seemed to work, so he kept his hand pushed down, kneading into his dick as he bit his lip and closed his eyes, this time looking more like he was praying than concentrating. He wet his lips and blew out a puff of air I didn't know he had sucked in. As the plane shook, he grabbed at the headrest in front of him as though to stand up, and the occupant of said chair turned a bit in annoyance. Poor Gray looked absolutely frantic. There was no way he was going to make his way over both myself and my sleeping neighbor, and I knew that he had gotten to the point where he realized that he wasn't going to make it. Not only through the landing, but the unrushed retrieving of the bags, and slow march into the terminal. I also knew he wished he hadn't skipped his opportunity to disturb us and use the lavatory an hour ago, but my guess was that he really thought he'd be able to make the uncomfortable flight through to the end. He sat himself down again, hands still clutching the headrest in front of him, head against the screen. He turned his body toward the window and the ground quickly grew closer. Without enough room to turn and properly cross his legs, he could only change positions in so many fluid motions, his shoulder pushing into me this time without the accompanying apology. The plane landed with a series of hard jolts; even I could feel the pressure on my bladder as we braked, and I didn't even have to pee. He braced his left leg against the metal chair support in front of us and pulled his right leg up toward his chest, hand now unabashedly squeezing his dick through his trousers while the plane braked and wobbled down the runway. He actually whimpered out loud finally, lifting his ass off of the seat and then doubling over, both hands jamming his dick against his left leg while he whispered "fuckfuckfuckFUUUCK." His arms were shaking and he kept his body angled toward the window, but I saw the dark, damp patch on the left side of his crotch when he awkwardly shifted his body to try and lay his arm across his lap to shield it from my view. As the plane slowed to taxi, he finally wrangled his left arm out of his jacket, his right hand unsuccessfully attempting to cover the sizeable wet patch and rock hard cock still straining beneath the wet fabric. He deliberately looked straight ahead and I no longer cared if he noticed me looking his way. He switched his hands over his dick and leaned toward me to try and free his right arm from his jacket. As he did, he inhaled sharply again, pushing down onto his dick and groaning, fully grabbing himself again with both hands. I leaned over to give him room, and as I shifted, felt my own slippery wetness pleasantly warm beneath me. I crossed my legs and felt my swollen clit twitch in full appreciation of this 30 minute spectacle. Gray was clearly losing this battle, and I knew from experience that having to stay seated put more pressure on one's bladder than being able to stand. He simply leaned forward into the seat now, his posture stiff but defeated, one arm still in his jacket, both hands furtively still pushed onto his dick. Seatbelts unclicked around us and he paid no attention, gaze still pointing out the window, back hunched. Grumpy stood up in the aisle, oblivious to the scene which had unfolded beside him, and I stayed stock still, slowly making a chore of wrapping my headphones into a tidy loop. Gray stiffened again, and with eyes closed he lifted his right leg and grimaced. I watched wide eyed as the wetness grew under his hands. After a few seconds he seemed to regain some control again and managed to swiftly slip the rest of his jacket off. He tented his lap loosely, then thought better of the placement and gathered it up again, trying to arrange it as though he had merely draped it casually over his lap instead of covering up the dinner plate sized evidence of his accident. It was, thanks to the drawing up of his left leg and mashing of hands, remarkably similar in shape to the great state of Texas. That was the last time I saw his wet pants. I can only imagine what it looked like where it must have pooled underneath his ass. I got up and moved into the aisle glancing toward him. He refused to look at me. He was, I noticed, still wearing that desperate look, a mix of concentration and distress. That nearly imperceptible bouncing of his leg presisted as I was forced to move down the aisle, so I knew it wasn't nearly over for him. I retrieved my bag and heard him reply to a passenger, "No, you go ahead, my bag is all the way back there. I don't have any connections. Go on ahead, but thanks." It must have been torture for him to let everyone off of the plane before he could go fully relieve himself. In my head, I imagined him sitting there while the last of the passengers unhurredly pulled on sweaters, checked their seat pockets, and made their way down the aisle. Poor Gray, trying to look casual while he struggled with only his muscles to hold back that impending flood, refusing to let one other soul in on his state of agony. I picture his fists balling up as another wave overtakes him, but unwilling to give himself away, he clasps firmly on the armrest and headrest, his swollen, erect cock desperately twitching as he can't hold back a long, unabating stream of hot urine. I imagine his eyes closed, his face turning red as the liquid spreads across his hidden lap, under his tightly clenched ass, maybe making a little river over to the leather seat I had just been occupying. This thought as I walk down the tunnel to the gate sends shivers through me, and my appreciative, soaked clit slides between my ample thighs. I sit at the gate across from mine, disguised in a crowd of waiting travelers, legs crossed, pussy absolutely throbbing for release, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gray making his way out of the plane. After a few minutes he does, wearing dry, khaki trousers, a blue polo shirt, and a nervous look on his face. He glances around, and I know he's hoping I am not around. Maybe he has convinced himself I didn't notice anything at all on the flight. The delicious thought of him thinking his accident was a secret thrills me right over the edge, and I close my eyes and pretend to hum a tune stuck in my head, bouncing my right leg over my left as casually as you'd expect a 36 year old, well-dressed mother of two to do while she waits for her flight, and I ride waves of pleasure as I come hard, humming, smiling, sitting right outside of Gate A11 with poor Gray leaving me and his ordeal behind him.
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