Air Travel Torment

The stewardess paused for a moment. "We received complaints."

"From who? Who would complain, and why is their business?"

"That's not for you to know. I have the right to refuse your admission on this flight."

"Please," begged Holly. "They just took my bra at security, and I don't have anything else. I'll try to cover up."

The Stewardess gave us both a scowl and she pause. "OK. But try to stay covered." With that the bitch walked away. I looked up, and now literally everybody at the gate was staring at my wife's braless breasts in her see-through top. All the bitchy stewardess did was bring more attention to them, and make me and Holly even more humiliated than we already were. We just stood there like we were on display.

That's when I spotted some familiar faces. Kurt, Alex, and Neal. They worked for my company. They were my sales competitors. Kurt was my age, a real obnoxious political backstabber. Taller than me and real good-looking, with big white teeth. It took some effort for me to be nice to him. Alex was a sales assistant and in his early twenties. A jock, as were Kurt and Neal. Neal, a big stocky guy, was a vice president, in his sixties, someone you needed to be on good terms with, and old school. I'd heard more than a few dirty jokes from him, and seen him flirting with the young girls.

When I spotted Kurt, he waved to me, and then got up and walked in our direction. The other two also rose and followed him. As Kurt approached, he spoke to me, but looked at Holly's chest.

"Hi, Kurt," I said. "Strange co-incidence, being on the same flight."

"Yeah, we're attending a seminar at the home office. Hello, Holley!" Kurt remembered my wife's name. The way he flirted with her at the last Christmas party two years ago, I shouldn't have been surprised. "Nice blouse."

Holley blushed, and stammered a quiet, "Thanks," looking at the three men staring at her chest.

"What are you flying for?" asked Kurt.

"Oh, we're having a photo op. I'm getting a sales award."

"Yeah, I heard about that. Congratulations. I can't wait to see the picture."

Kurt asked me about an account while Alex and Neal leaned in and talked to Holley, or at least talked to her chest.

Finally, we started boarding the plane. I realized that I was again semi-hard, though not as stiff as earlier. As we slowly walked to get in line, and then took a step every few seconds down the indoor ramp to the plane, I could feel my cock hanging down my boxers, and lightly touching my leg. The light friction sent more sensations through my groin, causing my anger to subside, and I thought about all of these men seeing my wife's nearly nude breasts. It was both humiliating and arousing. I was confused by the sensation, but since it was helping my anger subside, I let the feelings come, as I wondered how I would react to seeing an unknown woman nearly topless in an airport. I'd probably go home and secretly jerk myself off thinking about her. Or, bang my wife thinking about her.

CHAPTER THREE

The jet we were on didn't have a first class. As we entered the plane at the front, there was only one long section, with the bitchy stewardess and two male stewards. I glanced to my left, and looked in the open cockpit door. The pilot and co-pilot were the two men that had stopped to watch Holly strip. I hoped they didn't look back and see us, as I was embarrassed that they saw my wife get naked.

We had gotten our tickets late, and couldn't get two seats together. In fact the flight was so booked that all either of us could get were middle seats. At least we had gotten the two middle seats on the same row, a little over halfway towards the back of the plane. Holly's ticket was for the right side of the plane, and mine was on her left. As the people around us had carryon luggage to store and we didn't, we were able to take our seats right away. It seemed to me in all the hustle and bustle that a few of the businessmen around us were able to get some stares at Holly's chest. But there was nothing I could do about it. At least my three co-workers were together near the rear of the plane, so I wouldn't have to associate with those jerks.

Both Holly and me were sandwiched between two men. As I looked to my right at Holly, she was exhaling with her head back, trying to relax. The man on the aisle seat to her left was an older man with glasses. He seemed to be staring at her breasts. But the middle-aged man in the window seat to her right was flat-out leering at her breasts. He was sitting up with his torso turned to her slightly and staring at her chest, from no more than two feet away. I wanted Holly to cross her arms to cover herself, but I couldn't get her attention. The plane was too hot for me to get her a blanket. So I sat there and watched the two men ogle her nearly naked chest. I tried to look away and not think about it, but my eyes kept returning to my wife and her peepers, studying their eyes and their body language.

The plane taxied away from the gate, but then there was another delay, as we sat on the tarmac with the air conditioning off. We were explicitly told not to leave our seats, as we could take off at any moment. As Holly sat with her eyes closed, the window guy stared some more. Then, he folded his arms, holding his right hand outside his left arm, and leaned back. He kept glancing at Holly's eyes, and then back to her chest. It was hard to tell from the angle I was on, but he appeared to me to be leaning into Holly. He moved his shoulder closer to her, and to his left. I'd swear I could see her right breast move as he pressed the back of his hand on it. He was trying to get in a cheap feel of my wife! But I still wasn't completely sure. The older guy in the aisle seat was reading a magazine, but seemed to be taking quick glances at Holly from time to time. The window guy was now clearly leaning into Holly, and getting a touch of her breast with the back of his hand.

I was wondering what to do, to yell over or get up, when Holly finally opened her eyes and looked at the guy. He pulled his shoulder away from her. As Holly looked at him, he just looked back at her. He was talking to her now. Holly had her polite look on. I wished I could hear what he was saying. He wasn't being subtle with his dirty smirk and body language. He appeared to be flirting with her, if not actually hitting on her. I've seen that look in bars enough.

Holly and I have spent plenty of time in sports bars, house parties, and other drinking venues, and like many of our friends, came to some sort of understanding that the smart play when a guy hits on your girl is to let the girl handle it. Make it be her job to tell the guy that she was with someone else. It saves having testosterone displays and fights breaking out. Since I couldn't get up, I had to trust that Holly would handle things herself.

The plane finally took off. I continued watching Holly and her two admirers. The aisle guy had a wide stance, seeming to be pressing his leg into Holly's, but otherwise he was only looking, at her breasts and her legs. Holly's skirt rode up quite a ways as she sat - well past the halfway point of her thighs. I presumed that she didn't put her pantyhose back on just to get the hell out of the search room as quickly as possible, and there'd been no time to stop and put them on. So her legs were bare, and most of them were showing.

But the window guy continued to be the problem. His torso was turned towards Holly, he was smiling and talking to her very closely with bedroom eyes and that pick-up smile, and his left knee appeared to be pressing into Holly's right leg. And he now had his right hand on her right forearm, which was resting on the armrest. Holly didn't displace it. Why not?

Finally Holly took her right arm off the armrest, and put it on her right thigh over her skirt. After a couple of test touches, when he simply tapped his fingers on Holly's right forearm, the window guy placed his right hand on my wife's hand. And his left hand was touching her right shoulder.

Holly pulled her arm away from him and crossed her arms, but the guy simply left his right hand on her thigh. He was now palming her over her skirt, which was way up her thigh.

Now I was getting irked not only at the guy, but also at Holly for not defending hers and my honor better. She was letting a guy paw her in public, right in front of her husband. It was embarrassing. But my groin crawled again. I felt my penis move and expand just a little. And I kept watching.

The seatbelt sign went off as the plane leveled. One of the male flight attendants immediately rolled a beverage cart from the back up the plane, blocking off the rear bathrooms. Holly almost immediately stood up. We hadn't had time to stop for a bathroom break since we left our house. The aisle guy stood up to let her out, and she made her way to the front bathroom. There was already a line for the bathroom, and I saw Holly standing in the aisle, waiting her turn. The plane was particularly turbulent, and she had to hang onto the edge of a seat to keep her balance.

As she waited, I saw several men turn their heads and stare at her chest. Finally, she got into the bathroom, and a few minutes later, emerged and started making her way back to her seat. Turbulence picked up, and she steadied herself with both hands on each aisle seat as she walked gingerly. Her breasts were on full display, bobbling under her blouse as the turbulence tossed her. I could see the outlines of her areolas from halfway down the plane. I could also see heads leaning out into the aisles, to get a better look. Everybody must have seen her at the gate, having her see-through blouse pointed out by the bitch stewardess.

But apparently the two guys on either side of me hadn't noticed that I was with her. As the guy on my left in the window seat raised his head for a better look at my wife's chest, the guy on my right on the aisle seat turned to him and said, "Why is it that I never get seated next to something like THAT?"

The two men chuckled, and the window guy said, "That would make the flight a lot more pleasant. You wouldn't need in-flight movies with those things in your face."

"Better than being at a bar, or a strip club. You don't have to pay her, and she can't go anywhere," replied the aisle guy.

"If she gives that away for free, I wonder what she'd do if you offered her money?"

I was planning to trade seats with Holly when she returned, but not any more. These guys would be just as bad, maybe. I simply let Holly bobble by me and return to her seat. I didn't even look her in the eye, not wanting to let my row mates know she was my wife. I briefly closed my eyes and pretended to be sleeping.

Holly's aisle guy got up to let her in again. But as she scooted back to her seat, I saw the window guy put his hand out. As she reached back to move her seat belt, she stuck her skirt-covered butt in his face. He reached up, and took a quick palm of her right butt cheek. Holly jumped back, but didn't say anything, and sat back down.

As I was watching Holly with the men, the bitch stewardess approached. She leaned in, and said something to Holly that I couldn't hear. I had no idea what it was, but Holly made her repeat it, and asked her a couple of more questions. What could this be about? She couldn't throw Holly off the plane. Was she telling her to cover her breasts? Or was it something completely different?

Holly stood up again, and followed the bitchy stewardess down the aisle, all the way to the front of the cabin. The stewardess approached the cockpit door, and knocked on it. The door was opened by the younger of the two men pilots, the one that was in the right seat as I boarded. He looked at Holly, smiled, and motioned for her to enter. Holly walked through the door into the cockpit, and the door was closed behind her. The stewardess went back to work serving drinks. What the hell could this be about? The only thing I could think of was perhaps they were apologizing to her for her treatment by security, and maybe even their own stewardess.

But I used to know a stewardess. And she told me that ALL - she repeated ALL - of these flyboys were dirty perverts. Kinky, arrogant, wild, cocky, aggressive males. They certainly didn't appear to be sympathetic as they watched my wife undress at the security checkpoint just a few minutes ago. I tried to think of the worst. I was clueless.

After about fifteen anxious minutes, the cockpit door finally opened, and Holly walked out. It took me about thirty seconds to notice: she was wearing a bra. A PINK bra. WHAT THE FUCK??? Where did it come from? Was it hers, or someone else's? As she walked down the aisle, the next question in my mind bothered me the most. How the hell did she get it on in the cockpit?

I stood up and stepped into the aisle to meet Holly. "What's going on?" I whispered.

In an apologetic voice, Holly whispered, "The pilot got my bra from the security guards."

I remembered the pilot looking at Holly's ticket. He knew that she was a passenger on his flight. "Wa... Why?"

"So he gave it back to me." Holly wasn't looking at me when she said it. I knew she was trying to hide information from me.

"So... how did you get it back on?"

"He... he told me he'd only give it to me if I put it on in the cockpit."

"And... So... you just took off your blouse in front of them?"

"They didn't give me a choice. They could see my boobs through my blouse anyways. I couldn't go get my picture taken at your company with my boobs showing. I HAD to."

"Did you at least turn around or something?"

"They could already SEE THEM!" Holly replied in an agitated defensive whisper.

I simply emitted an exasperated sigh. People were trying to get around us in the aisle. I changed the subject. "What's going on with that guy sitting next to you?"

"He's drunk. He flew overnight from Europe or something."

"What's he doing?"

"He's trying to flirt with me and stuff."

"Do you want me to complain or get him moved or something?"

"I just want to avoid any more confrontations and be left alone. I'm super-stressed now. I hope he'll sleep it off now."

As the bitchy stewardess came near and gave us a scowl, Holly returned to her seat. I watched her slide into the middle seat as the two men around her stared at her ass. I had to go to the bathroom real bad, and since I was already out of my seat, I headed to the front of the plane.

I thought about Holly and the pilots. While stumbling to the front in the turbulence, I felt my dick start to rise. I pictured those bastards leering at my wife while they made her unbutton her blouse, watching her naked boobs sway and bobble as she slipped on her bra. There were two other people in line for the bathroom. Standing there, I had a full-blown hardon pressing against my pants. Public erections weren't something I've had a problem with since high school.

The erection made it a little difficult to pee. While in line and while in the bathroom, I thought about my erection, and why I was getting it while watching and hearing about my wife getting exposed and humiliated. I'd always been over protective, if anything, of my wife, not wishing her to wear clothes that exposed too much of her, that would draw sexual attention to her from other men. It's not that I didn't trust her. I just wanted her for myself. But since she had a baby, I hadn't thought much about what she wore. I didn't think that so many men would still find her desirable. So why was I now so sexually aroused now when she actually was over-exposed and felt up by other men?

I exited the bathroom and made my way back to my seat. When I got some rows away from Holly, I could see her head above the headrests. It was turned towards the drunk in the window seat. Moving closer, I could see that her whole torso was turned towards him. Another step, and I could see her hands up on his shoulders, and her chest thrown out. And then I saw the drunk's right hand on Holly's left breast over her blouse and bra. He was feeling her tit!

Holly glanced up and saw me coming. She immediately turned away from the drunk and sat back in her seat, pushing the drunk's hand away from her with a swat with her right arm. Shit! It was one thing after another!

I didn't know what else to do. Despite having just watched a drunk palming my wife's breast, I just sat down in my seat across the aisle.

But I kept my eye on Holly and the drunk. Holly sat staring straight-ahead, not looking at me. But the drunk was still turned towards her. He placed his right hand on her thigh, just above her knee. Holly gently pushed the hand away, not looking at him, and crossed her legs.

The drunk kept talking to her, and soon placed his hand on the top of her crossed leg again. He then ran his hand on the outside of her crossed leg, over her bare outer thigh, where her skirt had risen. Holly kept looking ahead, eyes wide open, as the hand reached the hem of her skirt, almost up to her ass.

Holly uncrossed her legs, still not looking at the drunk. The drunk leaned back in his chair, but he was undeterred. Now it was his left hand that was placed on Holly's right thigh. Her skirt was riding up high, exposing much of her thighs, and the drunk's palm was massaging the inside of her thigh right at the skirt hem. Holly glanced up as if to see if anybody else was watching. But instead of pushing the hand away or saying anything, she leaned forward, resting her palms on her knees. To me this gave the impression that she was more concerned at being CAUGHT with a hand on her thigh than actually REMOVING the hand from her thigh.

I could see the hand slip under my wife's skirt, deep between her legs. His wrist was pushing the hem higher, and his palm was turned as if it were now on her crotch, not her thigh. Holly wasn't removing it. What the hell was she doing? Was she ALLOWING him to touch her crotch? Did she just not know what to do? Freezing like a deer in the headlights?

I stared for a moment as another man was fondling my wife's pussy, and all she seemed to be doing is covering it up. I had a raging hardon. I had this fleeting thought that clearly I ENJOYED seeing other men lusting for and touching my wife, the mother of my child. If it had been a quick non-consensual grope, I could maybe enjoy it. But another man was feeling my wife in public, in front of me, and I was supposed to do something about it. But I didn't. I watched.

After a minute that seemed like an hour, Holly reached between her legs and pushed the hand away from her crotch and off her thigh. She still didn't say anything, and didn't look at her molester.

But the drunk wasn't done. He turned his torso towards Holly, and placed his right hand back on her thigh. Holly leaned her torso away from him, towards her left, but this opened her knees more. The drunk's right hand quickly slipped between her legs, pushing her skirt up to her crotch. I got a brief glimpse of Holly's panties, before the hand cupped it. Again he was feeling my wife's pussy, and again all Holly could do is open her mouth and eyes wide. But no sound came out, and no other defensive measure was taken.

Now I could see the drunk's hand slipping inside of the panty crotch, and I got a fleeting glimpse of her dark pubic hair as he rubbed her mound inside her panties.

I stood up. Holly saw my movement, and looked at me. She FINALLY reached down and forcefully pushed the hand away from her crotch, and tried to pull her skirt hem down.

But the drunk simply moved his right hand up, and placed it on her left tit. After one rapid flurry of squeezes, he reached inside of her blouse, and started to slide his hand inside of Holly's bra cup.

I stood above them in the aisle. "Hey! Cut it out!"

Holly looked up at me, but the drunk ignored me and kept feeling my wife's tit inside of her bra cup. Holly then reached up and began struggling with the man's forearm. He put up a battle, and as Holly knocked it away, the top button of her blouse popped off. I was working my way over the old guy in the aisle seat, and started to reach for the drunk.