She needs some help drying off.

Keeping her legs shut tight, Candace leaned over and grabbed the napkins. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she watched the flight attendant walk away, and she tried fruitlessly to get her voice working. She longed to ask for a blanket, or anything but a handful of napkins. But she was frozen.

She was still dripping wet, and she knew she should probably start drying herself off - her seatmates were blasting the air conditioning, and she was getting very cold - but she couldn't move. Her hands were glued to her body. Pretty soon, she was shivering.

"Excuse me?"

Her eyes went to the man who'd spoken, the guy in the window seat. She stared at him, and he stared back at her, his eyes flitting down her body. "Hey, you need some help?"

Her mouth opened and closed. She fidgeted uncomfortably, unable to speak. "I-I- I need-" She cleared her throat, which felt dry as a desert. "Y-yeah."

"My name's David," he said, then reached into her personal space, plucking the napkins from her hand. "How'd you get all wet?"

"I was-" Her words were cut short when David gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm away from her chest. She gasped, hyper aware of the feeling of his large hand closing around her arm. His skin was on her skin. "I mean-" She looked down, saw her wet tits, facing right toward him.

With the napkins in his hand, he began drying off her breasts. She shivered, her chest heaving with her deep lungfuls of air. She willed herself to keep the hand guarding her pussy as still as possible, but she couldn't help but squirm at his touch. He wiped clean every inch of her torso, cupping her breasts, rubbing her nipples.

"Well?" he asked, looking her in the eyes. She felt small under his gaze, and immediately felt the need to look around.

Plenty of people were staring at her, but none with concern or outrage. It seemed she was just a spectacle to gawk at. They had seen her be paraded nude around the aircraft, and in their minds, this was the logical conclusion. Nobody wanted to help her.

She answered his question. "I was in the bathroom, and my panties- my panties got caught in the door. Then the sink sprayed me." She sounded ridiculous.

"That doesn't explain where your shirt went," David said, still rubbing one of her nipples.

"T-the flight attendant threw it away," Candace muttered.

David had moved on to her stomach, and she could feel his fingers trace her soft stomach, grazing her hips. He laughed lightly. "Can't believe you'd just let someone throw your shirt away," he said, as if making fun of her spinelessness. "A lot of water collected down here. Move your hand."

In her mind, she had ****. Where was she supposed to go? She was captive, 30,000 feet in the air. She moved her hand, allowing him access to her waiting pussy.

The napkins were nothing more than a sodden wad of paper at this point, and Candace could feel his bare fingers make contact with her mound. He rubbed at her hairless pussy, massaging her outer lips. Candace braced herself, hands clutching the armrests tightly, as he rubbed back and forth. With each pass, he pressed into her more deeply. "You're pretty wet," he whispered.

Candace thought she might pass out. She was holding her breath, not trusting herself with air, afraid she might make a noise. "Tell me something," David said, holding a finger inside of her, "what's your plan for when we land?"

She gripped the finger with her pussy, pulsating around him, but he had stopped moving. Cruelly, he just held his finger there while she moved around him. "Can you-" she breathed, "C-can you help me?"

"Yeah, maybe," he answered, adding a second finger. "We'll see. Let's just focus on getting you dry." He looked her in the eye, all pretense gone, penetrating her in her seat. Candace looked back, panting, feeling completely out of control.