Bigger Than You Thought Leila

9, 10, 11... here! Row 12

. Leila points at the middle seat to a young man who's joined her on team "grey sweatpants and hoodie." His long form squeezes up and out of the aisle seat to let her in. "Take your time," he says. A jostle behind her bumps her off balance and he shoots out his arm for her to grab onto and stabilize. She flashes an apologetic smile and slides into the middle seat.

Just as he's about to sit back down, there's a grunt of frustration from behind them. A woman who can't be more than five feet tall is trying to heave her carry-on into the overhead bin. Leila's seatmate turns and reaches up to help. "Mind if I...?" he asks, waiting for her nod before lifting the bag. It's a bit awkward but he manages to wedge it safely into place. When he finally settles into his seat, he just offers a vague, embarrassed head gesture and becomes absorbed in adjusting his headphones.

The soft roar of jet engines fills the cabin of the Los Angeles to New York red-eye, a white noise that seems to pull passengers deeper into their ungraceful slumber. The plane's interior is dimmed to a gentle blue twilight, broken only by a few reading lights and screens where insomniacs wage their lonely war against exhaustion. Most of the passengers have surrendered to sleep hours ago, their bodies contorted into unlikely shapes around armrests and neck pillows, faces slack and drooping in the dark.

A man three rows up from Leila has been snoring steadily for the past hour, at times rivaling the engines whir. Flight attendants have retired to their posts after their last service. Empty coffee cups and half-eaten bags of pretzels litter the tray tables, abandoned as sleep claimed their owners somewhere over Kansas.

Leila was up. She sipped on her ranch water while a trashy romance novel played through her earbuds. Really it was erotica, veiled with just enough of a story to scratch that scholastic itch. She smiled, it's amazing the things you could get away with in public, especially if you had a pair of earbuds. Leila should know. She was a model and "content creator for a subscription based platform." Her agent told her to call it that.

Speaking of... That fucking agent, had to book a red-eye back from my Palm Beach photoshoot and couldn't even spring first class? She wasn't stuck up or anything but c'mon! A middle seat?

Her fellow passengers wouldn't have guessed that she was a model and sex worker. Sure, her Middle Eastern ancestry had blessed her with dark brows, lashes, and hair that popped on camera - she could get away with no mascara - but that's about where it ended. Her groutfit was hiding... well, not much of anything! A logo of a bunny being pulled out of a hat lay flat across her chest and her similarly branded sweats were held up by the drawstring, not by any hip structure.

Leila was finding that the tequila was a great pairing with her book. The light buzz from her drink was meeting the gentle waves rising from her groin. Right when the sexpot governess and hunky widower were about to get it on, her snoring sleepmate shifted and slid over the armrest, his head dropping firmly onto her shoulder.

Ugh, middle seats

, thought Leila, giving a soft but exasperated sigh. She opened her eyes and looked over to assess the situation. Still fully asleep and...

Oh! Someone's having a good dream

... Leila's eyes landed on the unmistakable imprint of the man's partially-turgid dick in his sweatpants. No, this is what she might call a "hog." Leila could see its full, sizable journey from its root, across his lap, and up and over his hip bone. Leila glanced around to the nearby passengers. All were asleep. Flicking her gaze between his face and her prize, she traced a deep-purple acrylic nail lightly across its length. Her nail-tech called the color "eggplant." The humor was not lost on Leila. A sly smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She was in a generous mood... and oh so horny... and she admired his earlier chivalry... but mostly she was just horny. She shot back the rest of her tequila and started rummaging for a few supplies in her bag.

From his slumber, the man felt a tap on his shoulder. And then a more insistent tap. He opened his eyes to that woman sitting in the middle seat. He hadn't thought there was much to look at before but seeing her face up close, he realized she was quite pretty. A mildly aquiline nose sat in the middle of her heart-shaped face. The heart was accentuated by sleek black hair spilling down and past her shoulder like a warm scarf. Lashes that bordered on cartoonish framed large, almond eyes, their dark brown irises flecked with gold. Her unblemished, medium skin also had an undertone of gold. He realized she'd asked him a question. "Huh?" he said.

"Could I please go to the restroom?"

"Oh, uh, sure," he replied, unfastening his seat belt and stepping out into the aisle. In his half-sleep daze, he watched her walk back. His stare was solely an effect of his state of waking; his eyes found no purchase on her thin, plain form. Just as he was about to sit back down, he noticed a slip of paper on his seat. Handwritten, it read: "Meet me in two minutes." Underneath the paper, a condom.

Leila sat on the closed toilet seat in the cramped lavatory. One hand was reached inside her sweats, teasing a small pussy plug around her opening. On her way back, she'd seen the aft flight attendant fully engrossed in a phone game, soft dings and pops audible from the glowing brick. Leila hoped this would play into their chances of success. She had given the toy maybe two dips into her hole when she heard a sheepish knock at the door.

Perfect timing

, she smiled. She placed the toy fully in her hole and clenched it in place as she flipped the lock on the door. Her playmate shuffled in, eyes shifting around nervously and locking the door behind him. His breath seemed shallow. She wondered if he was short on oxygen in his brain; looking down, it seemed that his pole had come to full strength, just from the walk back here. There was also the altitude to contend with. She concluded that she would have to be the brains in this situation. In addition to his mid-level confidence and shock at the situation, he was also somewhat sleepwalking, having just woken from that awkward airplane sleep three minutes ago.

"Alright, let's get to this." She grabbed onto the sides of his pants and unceremoniously pulled down. She had intentionally leaned her head forward and she jerked back in mock surprise when his dick recoiled, striking her jaw. "Oh wow," she whistled. "This'll be fun." Leila hoped that the more of a show she gave, the more BDE she could coax out of this guy. Plus, the performance was instinctual after a couple years in the business. In fact, it got her going too. She pulled his pants down further and ran her hands over his legs and torso.

No gym bod hidden under these sweats

. Leila tapped his clenched fist.

"Oh, uh..." he uttered, opening his grasp to present the condom.

Leila plucked it from his palm with a prim "Thank you." With practiced efficiency, she tore the wrapper with her teeth and unrolled the condom down his shaft. Looking up at him, she leaned in for a tentative lick on his head.

Mmm, lime. Wish I had some more tequila

. Maybe an effect of her immigrant grandparents, Leila was not one to waste money on silly purchases. These mystery-flavored condoms were one of her few splurges; she bought the nice ones too. She figured if it helped her perform better, it was worth it. Anyways, she could write them off as a business expense at the end of the year! Her taste buds primed, she rocked forward on the seat and sealed her lips about four inches down. This was still only about halfway to his base. She reached up and gently scratched her acrylics down his sides and hips while rolling her tongue around the contained head. Looking up at him again, she could see his ego starting to melt away as he sank into the awesomeness of this experience.

Leila slowly withdrew, puckering and salivating from the tartness of the lime. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a hair tie to fix a quick, high ponytail that she laid over her left shoulder. She slid off the seat and assumed a stripper's squat. It worked better in heels but it still placed her right where she wanted and saved her knees from the hard bathroom floor. She danced her nails over his ballsack and let out a light giggle when his cock twitched in response. Then, holding eye contact, she dove in. Holding onto his hips for leverage, she took a bit more now, maybe six inches. She bobbed her head forward and back, tilting her head to the other side every few reps. She sucked his dick with a tenderness and fervor that looked like she was kissing a lover. Switching it up, she used her left hand to guide his pole against the tautness of her cheek, causing the imprint to bulge out obscenely from her elegant portrait. She reached down with her right hand to passionately pump the plug in and out of her wet pussy. Working away with the toy, she pulled off fully to catch her breath. She couldn't resist licking her lips to savor the taste of the condom. Taking a breath and relaxing her jaw, in one gulp, she welcomed his whole length into her mouth and down her gullet. Impaled to the hilt, Leila took a second to nuzzle her nose into the man's pubes to the sound of an appreciative groan. She gagged once, twice, then lifted off leaving a grilled cheese stretch of saliva.

"OK Big Boy, how we feeling today? Ass or tits?"

"Wh-what?" he questioned, some of his self-consciousness coming back at the prospect of having to make a choice and speak.

"Look, it's a win-win so just pick one."

"Uh, ass I guess."

"Excellent choice," she purred, giving the tip of his penis a playful flick. Leila stood up, turned around, and hiked up her hoodie a bit until he could see the skin of her lower back. Then she untied the drawstring of her pants and ran her thumbs around the waist to loosen them. At first, nothing happened. The man had half-expected them to slip right down her narrow, flat frame. Leila ran her thumbs around again and gave a shimmy as she started to pull down. Well really, her thumbs had to pull out, away from her waist, more than down. To the boy's confusion, instead of empty air, the gap was filled in with more skin. The same light bronze skin he'd seen on her face and lower back. In fact, this new flesh was a continuation of her skin. She pulled out more, and now, one hand had to reach behind and pull back on the elastic band, towards him. As the waistband made its way down, the start of Leila's crack peaked into view. It was only at this point when it clicked for our lucky lad that the moon that was being revealed was Leila's own huge, round ass.

The waistband continued to stretch beyond what should be possible as Leila painstakingly inched it down her peach. Her tempo was partially for show, but it was quite the task. She had to make sure the pants descended evenly on all sides. Now that about a third of her butt was revealed, it hung over the ledge of the pants, the band indenting deep into her flesh. Enough of her posterior was liberated that every tug downwards caused ripples across the surface, the ripples getting more dramatic as more booty was let out. Finally, she made it to the bottom of her bottom where the globes left creases against the tops of her thighs. The progress became faster with that obstacle out of the way and Leila was able to pull her sweats the rest of the way down to her ankles. The gap between her upper legs disappeared and her thick thighs were sealed together like a zipper as they were freed. The man let out a gasp he didn't know he'd been holding.

Yeah, take it in. It's worth a gasp

. She'd spent months and years crafting and sculpting her ass through Booty Builder Bootcamp and nasty, vegan protein shakes. Yoga helped with toning her waist to further accentuate the curves. She worked with a nutritionist that specialized with influencers and porn stars to keep an ample layer of fat over all the muscle. She gave a hip roll that she learned in dance cardio class and an inviting bounce. The series of tsunamis that she knew rolled across her butt from this movement forced an actual whimper out of her gentleman. If you were to look up "bubble butt" in some weird, adult encyclopedia, this should be the image shown. Though the editors might have had to select a more modest example so as not to rule out all other bubble butts by comparison.

The man dropped wordlessly to his knees like a penitent parishioner and face-planted right into Leila's glorious booty. His arms hugged around her posterior and he grasped her hips as if he was afraid he would fall off or it would be taken from him. He began to lick. Not gentle, exploratory licks, but frantic, desperate ones. His tongue and lips moved rapidly across the skin, his whole face pressed against it. He threw in a bite of her glutes here and there, eliciting sharp inhales from Leila. He dared to release his hands but only for a second as they were repositioned to spread the lobes of Leila's peach. She helped by widening her stance and cocking her hips, opening her anus to his tongue's onslaught. She dropped forward and planted her hands on the closed toilet seat. Drool began to trickle down his chin, meeting Leila's pussy juices from her own play in the crevice of her thighs. Leila reached a hand back and grabbed a hold of his hair. The man was pulled deeper into her butt. He found himself in a merciless pillow fight as she twerked one cheek after the other. Once she felt he'd been battered enough she pulled him out. Keeping a strong grip on his hair, she threw him back to his feet to prevent him from diving right back in.

The model turned to look back at him. "Hope you're still hard cause I wanna use that dick of yours." Though there was a large object in her field of vision, she could see that he might have actually gotten harder during his worship.

God, I need that inside me

. She would have preferred to use lube but between the lubricant from the condom, her slobber on his cock, and his drool coating her crack, she figured she was safe.

She grasped his hog and guided it towards her anus. With a synchronized thrust and rock, they were able to pop his bulbous head through her ring. A harmony of her cooing and his groaning washed through the small lavatory. The man gave a few off-rhythm, timid humps. He was a novice to anal sex and was somewhat thrown off by the pressure, angle, and depth of her cavity. "C'mon you fucker," Leila hissed. "How many opportunities are you gonna get to pound an ass like mine. I can take it." She bent over further, dropping onto her forearms to present the ass in question. She was thankful for the flexibility and strength through her groin and hamstrings that she'd gained through her exercise. The man was impressed by her commitment. He took a steadying breath then allowed his mind to drop into the image and sensation of that perfect peach. Grabbing onto her hips for leverage, he plunged his cock down into her canal. The cushion of her butt kept him from actually leveling his base flush with her anus but her supple cheeks and strong glutes provided plenty of stimulation. He allowed his brain to turn fully off and unleashed the pent up energy from his day of plane travel. He pumped the length of his cock in and out of her, drumming her rectum with each down swing. Leila got into a see-saw rhythm as she plugged her pussy each time he withdrew. Her perfectly padded behind absorbed and diffused some of the sound each time their hips met. She hoped the flight attendant was too absorbed in her phone game to hear the slow, steady PAFFs that escaped.

The man hit his limit just before her and sheathed his dick for a final time. The throbs from his spewing cock triggered Leila's own orgasm and she had the forethought to bite down on her hood to stifle her cries. The man's groans and grunts were at the perfect frequency to be masked by the plane's turbines. As Leila's climax continued, the man was too exhausted to do anything but ride out the vice-grip. When he felt her relax, he pushed off her butt and stumbled back, drained and trembling. His cock welcomed its escape, spurting one more drop of cum into the full and dangling reservoir tip.

Leila gracefully drew herself to her feet and shimmied up her pants. She feigned some difficulty and threw in a couple hops for his benefit but these pants could take anything. The man opened his eyes from a long blink and Leila's ass had been completely flattened in the world's greatest disappearing act. Seeing he was still unsteady, she reached out an arm and guided him to a seat just as he had done earlier for her.

Leila turned on the faucet then pressed on it again as it immediately turned off. Flicking her hands dry in the basin she turned back at the dazed man. "You know, since you've been such a good boy, I wanna give you an extra treat." Leila began to roll her hoodie up her flat stomach. The fabric bunched as her belly button and gentle six-pack was revealed. At her rib cage now, it seemed as if there was more cotton than should have been there. It didn't appear to be stretching, rather it looked like more hoodie was growing out of itself. Suddenly and simultaneously, two curves popped into view. Continuing to pull up, Leila could feel the tug of gravity as her full tits dropped into this plane of existence. At the same time though, the friction of the hoodie pulled the tops of her boobs upwards. One more tug and gravity won the battle, the weight of her breasts accelerating down to bounce against her chest and come to rest.

These round handfuls weren't her creation. No, these were thanks to a really brilliant young surgeon after checks from her first anal scene came through. And because they got more clicks in her thumbnails, another business expense! Leila held the hem of her hoodie in her left hand and swung her chest side-to-side causing a mesmerizing pendulum motion in her implants. She squeezed her upper arms together, pressing up her cleavage and blew a kiss with her free hand. Then, back into the hoodie they disappeared. Leila adjusted her hair in the mirror and slipped back out into the cabin, leaving the man to recuperate mentally and physically in solitude.