A bit of an interlude before the big finish

Not ten minutes passed after I came all over Britney's leg before the woman in the seat across the aisle from me woke up. She tossed and turned a bit and then, giving up, pulled out her iPad and turned on some Marvel movie. I still couldn't believe my luck. I'd gotten away with every single bit of my naughty, sneaky behavior.

I was still totally hyped up from my adventures, so even though I tossed my own airline blanket over myself and reclined my seat, I couldn't sleep. After maybe a half-hour or so, an idea occurred to me. I overlapped my blanket on top of Britney's, allowing me to slide my hand over to her sleeping body beneath both covers. Even with someone sitting two feet away from me, I could stroke Britney's still-sticky thigh and run my hand over her arms and tummy as much as I wanted to.

And I wanted to a lot. My sex drive wasn't quite as tremendous as it had been earlier, and good thing -- I might easily have gotten caught trying something too risky. But I still let myself play a thrilling game of looking for windows of opportunity to paw Britney's tits or even, once, slide my finger back underneath her panties. It didn't take long, by the way, for me to feel totally vindicated - my jizz dried within a couple hours, leaving no trace of my little excursion.

My petting games continued intermittently as Britney quietly snored on, oblivious. I'll be honest: exhaustion did finally catch up with me, and even though I had my own personal playground sleeping at arm's length, I let myself pass out for a couple hours. In fact, I was surprised to find myself waking up as the cabin lights turned on; it seemed like the crew was trying to simulate morning as we neared our final destination.

I read for a while, watching out of the corner of my eye fellow passengers rousing themselves for our upcoming landing and their journeys beyond. I even saw a breakfast service beginning far down the aisle, with our friendly neighborhood grouch attendant making her way slowly toward me.

Something unexpected happened then. Britney woke up!

It started slowly, with her tossing her head from side to side and adjusting her blanket. But soon the cabin lights penetrated her eyelids, which fluttered drowsily open. She looked over at me and smiled.

"Hey," she whispered. "What time is it?"

I told her that we'd be landing in about an hour, and she looked surprised.

"Damn, I guess those sleeping pills really worked," she said with a smile. She stretched, her blanket falling off her ample bosom, but she groaned as she tried to straighten in her chair. "But fuck, I'm really feeling those drinks." She coughed and looked a little sick.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well," I said, trying to sound sympathetic.

"No, it's OK," she said, doing that thing where women try to reassure men even though the woman is the one who's suffering. "I'll be fine. Just a little hangover."

"Well, if two vodkas hit you that hard," I said, "we're really going to have to work on your endurance when we hit the pubs!" Britney laughed and agreed. She checked her phone reflexively (though obviously there was no service) and excused herself to the bathroom.

And this is where my last devious idea came to fruition.