In-flight MILF Leg Worship

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A little tale of a sexy older Frenchwoman gently dominating a young male passenger with her incredibly educated and muscular legs!

I usually get bored on long flights, and I fly long-distance a lot in my business in the web design world. I’m lucky that way, and young enough at 25 to have the energy for it.

This flight, this was different. I sat across from her, not really paying attention at first, too busy trying to snooze and/or read on the half-empty flight from Europe to notice. But I did notice. She was to my right, one row up, in the window seat, stretching herself out to relax. I didn’t really pay note at first. Then the sun set and her reading light came on.

She was French, probably 50, maybe a bit older, with short, straggly brown hair with a hint of red. She was gorgeous, with flashing dark eyes and a decent-enough body from what I could tell in her baggy clothing. I’d heard her speaking earlier to her husband, who sat in front of me, across the aisle from her, relaxing himself, each with a row of three seats to themselves. When she snapped on her light and lay back, it was then I noticed her legs.

She wore baggy dark green slacks that were mid-calf in length, and below that dark wool socks and clunky shoe-sandals. Her calves and shins were milky white and very muscular. She crossed them as she read, rotating her locked feet, and the big balls of rocky meat flexed and rolled sexily. Flying always makes me horny, for some reason, and this sexy older woman was making me crazy. The sight of those creamy smooth and stone-hard calves rippling above her socks was making my dick hard. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

I didn’t notice her noticing right away, my eyes riveted to her flexing calves and all, but when I did, she smiled at me. I looked away and when I looked back, she curled a finger at me. I balked, looking ahead of me, trying to see if her husband saw. He was smiling at me through the seats.

“Nicole wishes to see you,” he said in accented English. “It ees OK. I like you to go sit with Nicole, please.”

“Re…really?” I asked tentatively.

He smiled, nodding with his head toward her. I slowly got up and walked to her row. She stood, smiling, moving casino siteleri to the aisle, pointing to her window seat. I shrugged and sat. She leaned over, whispered to her husband. They laughed, kissed. She sat in the aisle seat, legs crossed, pants riding up her sexy socked shins.

“You like my legs, monsieur?” she giggled, swishing her hair out of the way. “You like the muscles in mon calves?”

“Uh … yes, yes,” I stuttered. “They’re…very…sexy, Nicole, very sexy…”

“They are tres strong, mon calves, no, you like to see how?” she growled seductively. “How strong they are, how magnifique, and what they can do?”

“God, yes,” I heard myself saying, staring at the pale shins before me as she slowly swiveled in her seat, showing me more of them, pulling her feet up under her, her pant legs rising higher on her smooth calves.

She smiled and turned to me, lifting her legs, putting one calf behind my neck and fitting the other into my throat, lifting my curious face to do it. She crossed her feet and with a sexy smile on her face, scissored my throat in her steely calves, the big, rugged balls of muscle flexing on me, hurting my neck in back, closing my windpipe in front. It hurt like hell, her calves choking the air from me, but making me insanely horny as it did. My hands groped the legs throttling me, my fingers trembling against the silky smooth skin and pulsating muscle beneath. I looked at her sidelong, and her eyes were sultry and warm, lids half closed over them as she focused her leggy domination, biting her lower lip as she none-too-gently throbbed her scissoring calves on my throat.

To the side, past her, I peripherally saw her husband, who watched, his little cock out of his pants, stroking it. This was one fucked-up couple I thought, my head aching from the lack of oxygen to my brain caused by Nicole’s crushing calves. But I couldn’t get enough. My pawing of her calves turned to caressing as she continued to control me with her lithe lower legs, my own dick hard as stone in my pants.

“My calves, the could keel you, no?” she hissed in sexy accent. “My calves, they muscular, big, strong! Feel them, monsieur, feel the muscles, feel my socks!”

I canlı casino groaned and cupped them in my hands, feeling the smooth flesh and the hardness beneath, feeling her sexy thick socks, feeling the power and seeing her eyes flash at me. She leaned one hand down and palmed my hard cock. She smiled.

“Toujours,” she hummed in French, saying ‘always’ with satisfaction as she throbbed her meaty calves into my collapsing throat, apparently always getting this response in men she dominates in her beautiful, middle-aged legs. “Toujours … “

“Take it out,” she hissed after a moment more of nearly decapitating me in her powerful French legs. “Take your cock out now! Rapidement! Allez!”

I obeyed, hurriedly unzipping my pants and pulling out my Rock-hard dick, my hands quickly returning to her calves, which now squeezed harder. She smiled as she looked down at it, then at her husband, then back to me.

“Mon ciseaux, magnifique, no?” she growled, dropping her legs from my neck to my cock in one fluid motion, scissoring it magnificently in their meaty, muscled grasp. “You like my see-zors now, monsieur? You like them see-zorring your cock?!”

I did, madly humping up and down, watching in amazement as the milk-white flesh of her lower legs folded in sexy wrinkles around my thrusting cock, lubed by the constant ooze of precum from my overexcited dick. She smiled, hands behind her head, watching me and laughing, looking back at her husband who was pumping his cock as he watched her pump mine.

“Fuck…fuck, Nicole, fuck…your calves or like velvet, Christ, they feel so good!” I groaned, watching the muscles of them envelop my did. “You’re gonna…make me…cum…”

It didn’t take long. The silky grip of her powerful calves was like a muscular cunt on my dick and she knew the end was near. Now she slowed my thrusts and popped my wet cockhead in the thickest part of her socked calves, vibrating the muscle, the quivering of her flesh bringing me to the edge quickly,

“Let my calves do the work!” she giggled, quaking the fleshy meat on my dick, working them back and forth and up and down, the interiors of them slick with my precum and gleaming in the overhead light.

Her kaçak casino calves were red hot and rock hard, yet the inside of them that clutched my anxious cock was soft as butter, the meat, the muscle in flexing, quaking motion as she jerked me off in them. I grunted and tried not to scream and jetted the biggest load of my life into her clamped calf meat, coating them, lubing them wetly and making it easier to fuck them. She kept the scissor grip on my cock throughout, twisting them, quivering them, gyrating them until I went limp and sat back, sweaty and exhausted and completely spent.

I looked down; a thin line of my cum oozed up from her tightly clenched shins, lining it from knee to sock. My cock shrunk and popped out the bottom of her calves. She opened them and giant gobs of steaming spunk clung to the meat of her muscular lower legs. Her eyes flashed and she smiled broadly, proud of her work.

“Very nice, very nice, tres bien, bien,” she cooed.

She took one finger and scooped some of my cum from her calves,sucking it into her mouth. And orgasming as she did, quietly, clenching her thighs and grinding as she cleansed her calves of cum with her fingers, eating it all. I looked over; her husband’s cock was hard in his hands, his face a mask of anticipation.

She slipped one palm over the slick interiors of her magical calves, holding it up before me, smiling with a pearly smear of my sperm on her beautiful lips, the corners of her mouth puckered by sexy age lines. She moved the palm to my face and with my cock still hard in my lap, found myself doing something I’d never thought of doing: I licked that palm, long and slow, tasting my cum, coating my tongue with it, amazed that I did. She giggled and leaned to me, smiling, framing my face in her hands and kissing me gently at first, then more urgently, both of us tasting me on tongues and lips.

“Merci, monsieur,” she said. “You may return to your seat now.”

I smiled weakly, zipping myself back up and climbing over her to return to my seat. She got up and went to her husband’s row, shutting off the light. From my seat, I saw her still-moist calves come up, to his mouth, and her his insistent lapping, moaning as he did. Moments later, I heard his choked words come from a throat I knew were strapped by his wife’s brutally sexy calves and soon after, the sloppy stroking of them on his cock.

I dozed off, smiling as I slept, hoping it wasn’t all a dream…

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