"That was business."
"Business! You know, I took off my top for you. Had you feel my tits. Naked."
"I appreciate that."
"I even pulled down-I let you pull down my tights and panties."
"That was wonderful of you, Noreen."
"I let you stroke my cunt. My nude cunt! Let you rub the stubble of your beard against my cut. Even let you suck on it."
Slash leaned back in his seat.
He kept his mouth calm, relaxed. He would let her talk herself out.
Then he'd help her out.
"And you didn't even have the gawddamn decency not to tear yourself away from me at the first scent of another woman's cunt!"
"Listen, Noreen. I gotta take a wicked piss. Don't worry, I'll stay out of trouble."
"Fuck you. And fuck your lies. You can take that pecker of yours and shove it right up your own stinking backside. Fuck yourself in the hinders. Fucking gayboy faggot."
"I shall return."
"After you've fucked some other bitch sow you happen to horn into? How long will that be this time, you fucking male whore?"
"Momentarily."
Slash slipped into the aisle.
He walked unsteadily as the airplane kept jarring in a current of rough air. As he rounded the last row of seats before the rear cabin galley, the plane lurched once more.
Slash recovered his balance by grabbing onto the edge of a seat backrest.
But the plane chugged again. His knees swiveled and he juddered off balance.
A pair of paws nabbed his hinders.
"Thanks, mate," he said.
"My pleasure."
Slash hooked his head around.
Came face to face with the graceful traces of womanly wisps of hair. The tresses ensnared his ears, and curled into his nostrils.
"Sorry," he said.
He made to move from the woman's lap. She held his haunch in firm embrace.
"Uh-"
"Shut up," she said huskily.
Slopping her lips onto his.Her hair covered his head entirely as she bent him backward in her lap. He felt her hands crawling up and down his ribcage.
Grazing lower. Loping along the lean steely loins. Groping his groin.
"I got a problem," she whispered.
"I wouldn't have known."
"It's-uh-mental."
"Really?"
"My psychiatrist-the shrink called it-what's the fucking word-?"
"Nymphomania?"
"Yeah, that's it. He said I was a kind of-uh-nym-nym-nymphomaniac."
"Absurd."
"I gotta flow with it, dude. You know? Like, that's how I am."
"Yeah, I know. I am what I am too. Just like a lot of people."
"You game?"
"I was just going to the john."
"I'll join you."
"I-uh-my girlfriend's sitting right up the aisle. I don't think I better-"
"Bullshit. This is your good deed today. In the service of mental health. How could she possibly be so callous, so selfish?"
She shoved him through the bathroom door.
"I like being nude," she said. "Mind if I take of all of my clothes?"
"Uh-sure-I mean-no! Go right ahead. Whatever you like."
"But I want you to keep yours on. Like you just came upon a naked nymph sitting on a log by a forest, stream."
"Yuh. Okay."
She peeled her sweater off over her head. A stack of bib book knocked about her chest. She jammed her hands down the back of her skirt.
Unzipped the fly.
Ripped off her hose, panties, shoes, and skirt in one continuous motion.
"Take it out," she said. "Maybe just the tip at first. Surprise me."
Slash shot his hands into his pants. He hefted the enlarging prong from within his briefs.
Exposed the pricktip.
The plane jumped again in the air.
His crotch straddled her face. Long dong glanced down the slant of her cheeks.
She grasped his buttocks and held his dingdong to her face.
Then drew him downward.
The back of his pants fell down over his ass. The nymphomaniac slit her fingernails into the crack. Jabbed the anus.
His cock twitched.
Prick stuck into her tits.
"Um!"
His balls basted her ribs with his sweat. Stinger binged against her nipples.
As Slash collapsed into her lap, the nympho relaxed her legs. Her knees spread open and Slash slid in between.
She stripped the skin from his pecker with hacking jacks of her firm fist.
Crunched crisp cockmeat.
Brought it down low.
Brought her hips up.
The tip of his penis wafted against her tightlipped twat. Prickhead popped its opening onto the pussy.
Giving her jimjam a friendly smooch. It tapped back like a pooch.
Cuntlips kissing his prickhead.
Slash's blue veins pulsed along the length of his lingam. The blood boiled from the crown on down into the cockroots.
Her cuntlips parted.
Parched labia were smacking.
Sputtering smutch.
Trembling to the touch.
And his dong slanted in.
"Ngh."
Pumped into quim.
"Aaaaah!"
Then her twat began to stammer in response to the impact of his yammering hammer.
"I need it!" she said.
"So do I."
"But I need it now"
"I'm giving it to you, aren't I?"
"But I have a craving. I need an injection. I'm addicted!"
"Oh, shit," Slash said. "You're a fucking junkie. Should have known."
"No, honey. I'm addicted to love. I'm addicted to orgasm."
"Go right ahead."
"Ungh. Youwnghck."
He continued his rut. Couldn't tell if she were blasting off or not.
What was it again?
Slash had read that nymphomaniacs couldn't get off. That's why they had to fuck so much.
But wait!
Somewhere else he had heard that nymphos were addicted to come-needed a shot of jissom just like an opium-gorger needed a narcotic.
Which was it?
Or was it both?
"I need a shot!"
"Coming up-hot." Slash rustled his rump.
The jizz piped up his spermatic cords. Like electrical wires, the jissom lines let loose the juice.
Jumping sperms flailed their tails like tadpoles. Gametes goggled at the opening through which they were to be pitched.
"Uhraucgh!"
The semen spat wildly from his cockhead. Into the dead center of her twat.
Joyjuice rinsed down her insides.
Slash yanked the prick by the shank. Aimed it directly at her dugs.
Clots of sperm snapped onto her tits. A bulge of come glugged into her navel.
A wedge of sludge edged into her armpit.
The nymphomaniac's nimble lips managed to catch a few stray strands of prancing jissom. She smacked and swallowed it gleefully.
Scum from his dingaling sizzled onto her hide.
She mashed it into her tits.
Spitting out saliva mixed with her own sweat. Dribbling over her chattering chin.
The stab of pisspain nailed Slash in the nuts. As much as he liked to fuck, he really did have to take a piss.
And in truth, it probably did not matter in the least to this nymphomaniac just what kind of dick got into her. He could take leave of her quickly. Let the next dude who chanced by take up her challenge where Slash had left off.
"Take care, toots," Slash said. "See you again? Yes? No?"
The nympho's mouth hung open. Her hands groped her groin.
"Where is it?" she sang out. "Where oh where has that cock gone? I want dick!"
Slash slammed through the door.
He felt that his bladder would burst. The pressure in his kidneys was killing him.
He glanced down.
His prick was still out.
Hanging down the front of his pants.
Slash lunged for the nearest bathroom door.
The plane rolled again. Drove him against the door to the bathroom across from the one wherein he had left the puling nympho.
The door was poorly latched. Slash crushed through and battered into a couple of bods.
Two women, entirely naked.
In Sapphic embrace.
One seated on the commode. The other balanced on her lap.
Kissing each other's faces.
"Sorry, ladies," Slash gagged out. "I gotta take a leak. Any objections?"
He laid his wanger into the sink.
"I need a drink," a husky voice said.