Marvel

A normal plane lands in New York, pulling up the tarmac. The pilot stares straight ahead, mechanically doing his job to perfection. Inside, the passengers stare ahead, confused, all of them feeling as though they had slept for the whole flight. Many scratch their heads, but they all shrug, deciding to move on. A man from the back walks off the plane, and only once he is gone does everyone else finally stand up, shuffling to get their luggage and leave.

A woman tugs at her bra through her shirt, wondering why it feels so small. The petite woman next to her touches her own, thinking that it's strange she would choose to use such a large bra without stuffing it. They both shrug and move on, as do many others who likewise have strange feelings. The plane empties, and they all leave the airport, slowly regaining their faculties and walking to where they want to go more purposefully.

Meanwhile, one lone woman remains in the plane. Her brow is furrowed and she is looking down, taking stock of how her body and mind feel. Finally, she stands up, her black hair cascading around her shoulders, and she grabs her bags. Before leaving she takes an ID card with a lanyard out of her pocket and puts it around her neck.

She walks through the terminal, slowly at first, but then faster, passing all the people waiting for planes and milling about now that they've landed. She approaches a door off to the side and checks that it is indeed marked security. She knocks and then waits, tapping her foot while looking around.

Finally, the door opens and a man says, "How can I help?"

The woman holds up her badge and says, "I'm a PI, something strange happened on my last flight and I need to check any tapes they may have."

"Look, ma'am, I'm going to need more than that to show you anything, but we'll be more than happy to communicate with you or the police later if something did occur."

The woman breathes out, frustrated and impatient, and says, "No, you look here. You don't want me to have to make a call."

The guard just looks at her and says, "Yeah, I'm going to hear from someone pretty high up if you want that."

She pulls out her phone, dials a number, and puts it to her ear. "Yeah, this is Jessica," she says. "Uh-huh. Something happened on my plane and this dipshit guard won't get the tapes, let alone let me see them. Cool." She then holds the phone out for the guard and says, "It's for you."

He rolls his eyes and takes it, but soon after putting it up to his ear his face whitens. "I'm deeply sorry, yes, I'll get those for her." He hands her phone back and says, "Sorry Ms. Jones, right this way."

"Thanks," she said with a wry smile, pushing past him. He shakes his head and sighs, then looks around and shuts the door.

Elsewhere, a man leans back in an Uber, contentedly sighs, and says, "You know, I think I might like New York." He looks down and runs his fingers through a woman's blonde hair, then slaps her naked bubble butt and thrusts his hips up, relishing her gagging on his dick. He looks back out the window and lets her blowjob continue as he listens to the symphony of moans coming from her and the driver. She is driving with her eyes and attention fixed on the road even as her body repetitively shakes, jiggling her tits revealed by a ripped open tube top. Her hips thrust and her crotch is wet as she cums over and over, and the man sighs again, saying, "Yeah, this just might be Eric's town."