Blue Skies Blue Balls

by qrxzboy 2005-02-19

“Cramp seating.”  The man said.

 “SNUG. Can you handle it?” I blurted. Then, I looked. I eyed the large framed guy, up then down, while regret tinged my next thoughts. Look before delivery boy, a lesson to practice. Uncontrolled words mark the boy. I cringe afterwords, get out my thoughts silently, I thought. My chest heaved another breath as this passenger flipped up the armrest separating the seats between us and pushed into the space next to me. He had to stoop. Eyes down, his shaved head passed an inch from my face. He looked up at me. Hard eyed. Meaness, a pressed lip expression. His trimmed beard showed fifty/fifty gray to auburn hair. The man required a seat plus half another seat for his comfort. He commanded that amount of space, plus. I watch astonished as he managed me and took his positions. "Here." He said. He passed me a blue felt airline blanket and white pillow. He smurked. “Use these.” The stranger continued. “I suspect you need to use these before we take off.” Static! The charge. His blue suit and hand shocked me sparking across my knuckles as I recieved the blanket. I wonder, I suppose we are grounded on a plane? He felt the extatic charge also. Watching my reaction, he leaned towards my face. His breath exhaled strong coffee, strong scotch, strong cigar. These personal scents both offended me as they aroused me. I glanced aside to arranged the pillow and blanket. I made it so to cover me and separate us, I figured. This man soon broke this pretense. He took my action as the invitation for bonding us during the several hour flight.
 
We're flying. So 11:00 AM airborne between LA to Chicago, I endured his squeeze. Blue sky outside the window, clouds gliding below me, seat 34F, Delta Flight 110.
 
Soon, the man pressing me from seat 13E was flexing his grip with the satisfaction of a conqueror. His fist grasping my balls through my trousers concealed under the blanket caused me some pain.  I flinched. His eyes studies my response to his game. He squeezed my nuts tighter with his right hand, while he adjusted my blanket to conceal my grimacing face. The man smiled at first, then smirked to express some crueler satisfaction. A matched style of play. I had managed to keep my personal sounds quieted. I controlled my weeping until the stranger revealed a darker cruelty. "Do it." He said. He spoke to controlled me. No I thought, but to late. My eyes closed and tears released into the blanket. My tears. My weeping a quite sob.
 
He whispered his response, “Dark blue wet stains on the dry blanky, boy. Blue matches the color a boy's scrotum turns after... you will whimper about it later. About now you are forming questions like who takes you by the balls. Say nothing boy. You have no background on me. You only imagine what else I might do. The sure thing we both know is you crave attention. The boy craves this attention.” He felt for my cock. Fully engorged.
 
Though his commanding whisper taunted me, he did comfort me, also, his direct act of attention thrilled and frightened me. I did not attempt to reciprocate or touch this passenger in any way. I submitted myself to him submissive. He tugged my nut with pressure that made me sweat. I was dizzy sensing some immanate spasm. I remained silent though the turbulence. The shaking was uncontrollable. Both the the plane cabin and my body trembled...trembling...I blanked out. Peace.
 
Warmth on my forehead pressed against the scratched plastic, focused on the three holes drill equal spaced to release pressure. A protective glazing separated me from the actual window. A glimpse beyond of white peaks and valley shaped shadows along liner patterns panned past below. No Clouds. My eyes shut from a sudden flash of glare. Reflected sun. Bright.
 
I heard the man voice a moment later say, “One Scotch and one beer, Coors. Two cups. No ice.”
 
The throb had eased at my lower abdomen and groin to a dull soreness. The man shifted his weight away from me. A void in space. A relief of his pressure pressed against. I felt an odd ease mixed with a strange panic. Is this it, I wondered.
 
“Thank you” He said. So the stewardess moved forward on without speaking to me directly. I heard liquid pour, then, “Boy” he whispered the breath warmed my ear lobe, while his hand slid under my blanket to press his course furry knuckles against my exposed shaved balls. 
 
“My nuts out,” I thought. “my pants undone while I was unaware.” The embarrassment took me as I considered this personal violation. He asserts that I am a boy for taking. He knows me. This man reads me, I thought. I looked at him. I sensed he watched my whole body blush. I waited.
 
“Silent only!” He told me. “I have a proposal for you boy.” He waited for me to nod my head. “Good boy. I have no interest your proper name, so boy is it.” I take you on the full ride, when you consent fully. The journey is a trial of sensation that awaits us. I propose I take you with me after we land. Take you to my safe place for a two day trial. Be prepared for me to judge you. I administer judgments, rewards, punishments on you, boy. I'm your judge. Consider me the judge. Got it. No questions from you. You speak only if I grant you voice. Nod Yes or No.” The cabin jolted a downward motion, dropped and rose. The unison swoon from other passengers seemed distant to me, further up the aisle some nervous laughter passed and returned to the constant rumble of the engines. I remained locked to the Judge tethered by his intense manner and this proposition. He had shafted effortlessly to prevent a spill. He communicated with ease. He prevented a spill, saving the scotch, Coors and both cups. He spoke as he pored a bit of beer the other cup and handed it to me to sip. Under the blanket he pushed the sweating bottle and pressed it. The sensation on my cock and balls made me almost spit out my slug of beer, but I remained mute. I suppressed a session of coughs. Yes, I noded.

“Time to buckle yourself. Do your zipper and seat belt,” He continued. “Don't jack yourself off. You hear me.” I nodded. “Be waiting for me outside the baggage claim at the curb. I’ll pick you up.”
 
The plane landed. I shouldered my duffle and laptop and walked directly to the curb.
 
Outside, the wind chill slapped a brisk 20 degrees F. I waited there, watching, wondering, “If I were any other man, would I pass the opportunity to be judged as The Boy?"
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