Finally, she is fecthing your trousers

She whispers that she’s coming back for your pants, then slips out, leaving you standing there, your cock still wrapped and throbbing. You’re dumbfounded by what just happened. You lock the door behind her, your mind racing.

More knocks. You stay frozen, saying nothing. You hear murmurs on the other side of the door. Despite the wait, the shame, and the growing line outside, your erection hasn’t wavered. Then, one knock stands out—firmer, more deliberate.

"It’s me," you recognize her voice. You let her in.

She asks you to get dressed.

You reach for the condom, ready to remove it. You’re not having sex with her now, not like this. But she stops your hand.

"Keep it."

You’re confused. "Wait wait, you want to do it?"

"No, but you’ll keep it," she laughs, her tone matter-of-fact. "I don’t want you to stain your clean pants."

"Oh," you stammer. "I thought it was because you, we... Never mind."

She laughs, a soft, knowing sound.

With the top button of your pants fastened, she opens the door—and there they are. A line of three women, including the flight attendant staring at you, all waiting. A shiver runs down your spine. Will they notice the smell? you wonder. You can’t believe you’re walking down the aisle with a condom on your cock.

{if game:dick_size=1}

You feel the shame and the stares, even though there’s no way they can see your short, hard cock through your pants.

{elseif game:dick_size>1}

You can’t walk straight. Thankfully, the cabin is dim, so they can’t see the bulge.

{endif}

The feeling of your trousers rubbing against your cock is muted by the condom, but somehow, that makes it pleasurable. Maybe you would have preferred not discovering this feeling.