I came awake with an abrupt bump on my shoulder, immediately alert, my hand reaching for my shoulder holster before realizing it was no longer there. Alex and I were forced to go without side arms, not wanting to test airport security on either side of the Atlantic. No, we'd have to wait for another avenue to retrieve our weapons, a special flight by Air France to Vancouver by a close pilot friend of Alex's who had joined him in a five way with an Austrian mother and her two charming twin ten-year olds in a Swiss ski lodge a year or so ago. From there he had promised he'd get the guns to L.A. the day after we arrived.

I glance to my left to see what had jostled me and was treated to the firm derriere of one of the two American women seated alongside us in first class.

"Oh pardon moi, did I bump you," she said over her shoulder but without seeming to really mean it, just a quick attempt to excuse her clumsiness.

"Here, let me get that for you," I said rising and reaching over her shoulder, my front pressed against that firmly muscled back and particularly her magnificent ass. I felt the twin cheeks press right against my cock which had risen into a piss hard during my slumber. She jerked when she felt the rising and then suddenly pressed tighter back against me.

"Oh, you're American. I don't really need the bag, just the hairbrush on top if you just unzip it and get that out."

I fumbled purposefully with the zipper, meanwhile dry humping my now fully aroused cock against the twin cleavage of her ass getting a nice bounce back as she dry humped against me. I saw the first class stew who had been gossiping with the visiting business class stew bump her friend with her elbow indicating the couple dry fucking in the corridor. They both grinned as I looked at them. I gave a patented shit-eating grin back and did a rather large hump to make my point on what my actions were.

"Oh my," exclaimed the twin cheeked passenger in front of me, "I didn't know it would be so hard to reach."

She emphasized the word hard, the meaning quite clear. I grinned into her right ear, my breath blowing hotly into the delicate shell of flesh. I felt her shudder and she turned smiling back.

"Maybe I'd better get it after all, we seemed to be struggling a little, right?"

"No problem, here it is," I said withdrawing the brush with a large bone handled comb stuck in it.

"Oh thank you very much." Her accent was Upper East Side New York with a slight Hampton's tinge thrown in. "My name is Cynthia but my friends call me Sin, I never knew why," she said with a wink and a sly grin. ......(cont)