1. The Last Flight


    Date: 12/23/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Annamagique, Rating: 18, Source: LushStories

    walked to the galley to get her drink. Once out of her sight, I leaned against the buffet bar for a moment. I felt really odd but I had to be professional so I took a deep breath and stood up straight. The drink prepared, I placed it on the small tray and turned to face the cabin. I could just see the top of her head over the seat back, her jet black hair gleaming in the dull light. My feet didn't want to move but I forced them and, once more at her side, I placed the small coaster on the table she had pulled down and placed the glass upon it. “Your drink, Madam,” I said as professionally as I could then gasped and jumped as I felt her hand touch the back of my knee. “Jemima,” she said. “Jemima,” I repeated. “Is there anything else?” I felt the pressure increase on my leg as she smiled but shook her head gently. “I will be just behind you if you want anything,” I replied and after a moments pause as she held my gaze once more. I tore myself away and returned to my duties in the galley. From time to time I looked down the cabin to check whether anyone required my attention. A young man wanted a drink, a woman wanted a tissue and as the flight continued, I was kept busy. Each time I passed that rear single seat, Jemima watched me intensely and I was getting more and more self conscious. Whenever I served her she found a way to touch me. Nothing as much as that first time but contact, however small was like an electric shock to me. I placed a glass in front of her and she ...
    touched my hand. I jumped. I took away her empty glass and her knee would somehow touch mine. I jumped. Two hours into the flight and I was struggling. I couldn't breathe and my heart was beating like a drum. I couldn't control it but worse, I didn't understand it. I was normally so controlled, in control. This was my aeroplane, I was in charge, I was the stewardess but now, one of my passengers was distracting me and I was scared. For a moment, no-one required my attention so I went into the galley and took out the manifest and looked at the final name on the list. Seat twenty-five. Mrs. Jemima Rana. I pondered her name. It sounded Indian. That would explain her beautiful hair and deep brown almond shaped eyes but she had no hint of an accent and she didn't seem as eastern as I would have expected. She was certainly not dressed in the style of the east. She wore a white fitted blouse and dark grey, above the knee, pencil skirt. I had noticed a matching jacket in the overhead rack above her. Her make up was immaculate, not overdone and not a single hair out of place. I had noticed that she wore two rings on the third finger of her left hand. One appeared to be a plain wedding band which I guessed, due to its silver colour, was white gold next to a matching solitaire containing a large but discretely mounted diamond. It didn't look brash but definitely expensive! This woman just screamed style and taste. The more I stared at her name on the list the more I wanted to know about her. ...
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