The Mile High Club (Futa/F)

“Stop being so grumpy, Layla,” Lyla said in her quiet voice, a warm smile gracing her beautiful face. “Soon we’ll be in Europe and everything will be amazing!”

“Easy for you to say,” Layla grumped. “You get endless leg room for the entire flight, and I’m stuck here in the middle without so much as a nice view.”

Lyla’s smile transformed into a grin and she said in a quiet, intimate voice, “You’ve got one nice view.”

It assuaged Layla’s grumpiness a tiny bit, bringing a grin to her lips for a few brief moments as she indulged in the aforementioned view. Lyla had a habit of wearing clothing that left both her cleavage and midriff mostly exposed, and Layla was never one to deny her eyes such a delicious feast. Big breasts, a fit, toned midriff, a beautiful face and long, wavy blonde hair made for a woman Layla never tired of looking at.

“You’re right,” Layla confirmed after as she heard the guy to her right put some headphones on and start something or other up. “It is a nice view. Still doesn’t change how cramped and sore my legs are going to be by the time we arrive.”

Sighing, Lyla shook her head. “You’re hopeless. Just relax and get comfortable, would you? We can swap later so you can stretch your legs a little.”

“Fine.”

The pair settled into their typical routine after that, with Layla constantly refusing to get comfortable and endlessly shifting and readjusting herself while Lyla looked at her and pretended she wasn’t finding her girlfriend’s plight amusing. It was a familiar game to the two of them, and had a rhythm to it that spoke of countless previous times just like it, as if they’d done this same dance countless times before and were so used to it that they played their roles without even noticing they were doing it.

The flight progressed like this for some time. Everyone on board had their own way of keeping themselves busy or entertained. Some read books, some watched movies or shows, some played games, and Layla and Lyla bantered back and forth. They were ignored for the most part, mostly because they did it quietly, in voices that were just barely above whispers, but the occasional person gave them annoyed looks, to which Layla almost always responded by staring at the person in silence for so long they became extremely uncomfortable and began shifting and twitching in a very similar manner to the way she had been, except instead of it being because of a lack of space it was because they were desperately trying to ignore the crazy lady with blonde pigtails staring at them with worrying intensity.

Time passed, and what had already been an evening flight became a late night flight, then a dead of the night flight, and soon enough most everyone was asleep. The guy on Layla’s right had his head slumped against the window, some crappy show still playing on the little monitor on the back of the seat in front of him. Lyla, as expected, was resting her head on Layla’s shoulder, and as far as Layla could tell she was asleep. The banter had become more and more lethargic as Lyla had grown tired, and her being asleep meant only one thing.

Layla was bored. She looked around, peaking her head up as best she could without disturbing the sleeping beauty on her shoulder. She saw the occasional person still awake and doing something or other, but for the most part it was dark and everyone else was asleep. She sighed, shifting and fidgeting habitually. Lyla was so used to it at this point that the shifting of her pillow didn’t disturb her sleep in the slightest. There wasn’t a singl

... more on the forums ...