Murder Misstery Melange
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A Murder Misstery Aloft free porn video
A Murder Misstery Aloft
© 2008 by Nom de Plume
For those who came in late, Matt McCoy - now Madeline Moreau - is on the
run for a crime he did not commit, and a murder which she did....after
learning about her secret girlhood, Maddy spreads her wings...and more.
I crouched down on the floor of Mom's SUV as she backed out of the long,
winding driveway, cringing as she shimmied over the snow-covered lawn a
few times before she made it safely to the street. "The coast is
clear," she said at length after checking the rear view mirror several
times.
I hauled myself up into the passenger seat and fussed with my skirt and
slip, tugging them down over my nylons. Mom gave me a sympathetic smile
and said, "It's amazing how well you've adapted to being a woman."
"It's all self-taught, Mom. I mean, I had a lot of help from Tracy in
the very beginning, but that was only for a few days. Since then, I've
been on my own, and there's been a lot of trial and error."
"Would you mind terribly if I gave you some tips, you know, just the
little things that we women learn when we're growing up as girls and
take for granted?"
I sat back in my chair and sighed. "Sure, Mom. Since I'm stuck like
this for the rest of my life, I may as well get used to it."
"Methinks she doth protest too much."
"Huh?"
"Has it really been that hard on you, honey?"
"I don't know...to tell you the truth, the girl stuff has been the least
of my problems. I mean, I've been on the lam for almost a year. Maybe
in some ways, changing genders helped me take my mind off everything
else I left behind. The only way for me to survive was to forget about
who I was and get good at being a girl."
"That makes sense, and it helps to explain something that has puzzled
me. Once you found yourself in Europe, couldn't you have just as easily
disguised yourself as a man?"
"Don't think I haven't asked myself that question a thousand times, Mom.
It wasn't till last night that I discovered the answer."
"You mean our dress up sessions when you were little...."
"From the moment that Tracy first helped me dress up in her clothes, we
both knew that something scary was going on. I mean, I took to it so
easily, Tracy couldn't believe how good I looked as a girl. Then, when
I hooked up with Jacques in Paris, he told me that I was the most
naturally feminine person he ever met. How's that for a shot to a guy's
ego?"
"But you never came across as effeminate once I stopped...."
"Once you stopped dressing me up as a girl? I guess it was still there
all along, buried down deep inside."
"What have I done?"
"You saved my life, Mom. It's not the life I wanted for myself, but
it's mine now, and I'm going to make the most of it."
"Oh Maddy, I'll do anything I can to make this up to you."
"Just help me get good at this. I promise I won't mind if you call me
out on things I'm doing wrong, just as long as you understand that I'm a
woman now. So if I want to shack up with Jacques..."
She shook her head and wiped away a tear. "I suppose I'm lucky I missed
the teenage years." We rode in silence as she wove in and out of the
traffic approaching Midway Airport, until she got to the exit for the
General Aviation terminal. It was like another world: valet attendants
greeted us and whisked away our suitcases while a uniformed attendant
ushered us into a reception area that resembled the lobby of a private
club. Mom gave our names and the tail number of our airplane to a
pretty young woman behind the counter, who took our passports and handed
them to yet another uniformed attendant, and the next thing I knew we
were walking across the blustery tarmac towards a glistening private
jet. Mom managed the stairs with ease, and I bounded up after her
despite my heels.
If I thought the terminal was impressive, the well-appointed cabin of
our plane was downright luxurious. The handsome co-pilot greeted us
with a cheerful, "Good evening ladies," and before I knew it I was
sitting back in a plush leather chair with a flute of champagne in my
hand. Mom sat facing me and showed me how to swivel and recline my
chair. I gratefully kicked off my heels and flexed my aching toes, and
once again Mom gave me that knowing smile of female sympathy as she
watched me trying to get comfortable in my skirt.
"It's going to be a long flight. I'm going to change into a jogging
suit as soon as we take off, did you bring something to sleep in?" she
asked.
D'oh! "I don't think so, Mom...I mean, other than some flimsy
nightgowns I got in St. Martin, and a long flannel one I bought in
Montreal..."
"Well, you'll just have to sleep as you are. At least put a blanket
over your legs so you'll be decent." I stuck out my tongue at her,
thinking with chagrin about how after taking Europe by storm as a single
female, I was reverting to being her little girl!
All of a sudden we were rolling. Just like that, the pilots gunned the
engines and we were rocketing down the runway. I didn't even have my
seatbelt on! Mom watched with amusement as I searched desperately for
it in the folds of my skirt, found both ends and snapped them shut
moments before we lifted off. "I was just like you on my first flight
with your father," Mom reminisced.
"Did he really hate me that much?"
"Of course not, dear. Of course we didn't believe it when you were
accused of embezzlement, but then when you were linked to the murder of
your business partner, we were both devastated. It wasn't until they
reported that you fled the country in women's clothing that he gave up
on you, but he never really hated you. He was hurt, embarrassed, and
very disappointed."
"Can I ask a question that's been bothering me a lot?"
"Of course."
"Could what I did have contributed to his death?"
"Of course not, honey! Oh, you poor thing...no, he was diagnosed with
cancer shortly before all that happened, and he chose to keep it from
you and your brothers as long as possible. He was a very proud man, and
he didn't want anyone feeling sorry for him. I suppose that's why he
was so humiliated when you turned yourself into a woman...but in answer
to your question, he never hated you, and shortly before he died he told
me that the first thing he was going to do when he got to heaven was
track you down and straighten you out!"
I wiped away a tear. "Thanks, Mom, that means a lot to me."
"Your father lived his life to the fullest," she said, looking around
the sumptuous plane. "As he used to say, this is the only way to fly!"
As if on cue, the cute co-pilot sauntered back from the open cockpit
door, and after pinning up a map showing our flight plan from Chicago to
Paris, he asked us if we we'd like cocktails or wine before dinner. Mom
selected a vintage chardonnay from the short wine list and retired to
the lavatory in the back of the plane to change her clothes, leaving me
to chat with the obviously interested hunk. "Are you sure it's okay for
you to play bartender instead of helping to fly the plane?" I asked.
"Relax," he smiled. "The old man has everything under control, besides
we've been on auto-pilot since the wheels went up. My name is Rick, by
the way. You're welcome to come up and sit in my seat if you want to
fly the plane for a while."
"Me, fly the plane?"
"Girls can do anything these days. While I'm playing flight attendant,
you can play pilot."
"Why not?" I heard myself say, and in my stocking feet I followed him
into the cramped cockpit, where the middle-aged captain greeted me with
hearty hello. I hiked up my skirt and hopped into the empty right-hand
seat, then Rick strapped me in and put a set of headphones on my ears.
"Just don't touch anything, sweetheart," the captain said into his
microphone. So much for flying the plane! I sat back awkwardly and
watched as Rick pointed out the different instruments and reported on
our flight speed, altitude and position. When he reached down to adjust
one of the controls, his hand brushed against my knee, and it lingered
there until Mom poked her head into the cockpit.
"Good Lord, what are you doing up here!"
"She's going a great job," Rick said. Then he disappeared into the
cabin, with Mom two steps behind him. I looked down and realized that
my skirt was clear up to my thighs, revealing a froth of lacy slip.
When would I ever get used to these clothes? I tugged down my skirt and
looked over at the captain, expecting to see him leering at me.
Instead, was shocked to find him sound asleep in his seat! Sure enough,
I could hear him snoring in my headphones.
I sensed someone coming up behind me. "Let me take these off your
pretty little head," Rick said.
"He's asleep!" I whispered.
"Don't worry," Rick smiled. "If anything goes wrong, there are enough
alarms in here to wake the dead. Better for him to rest up for the
landing."
"But we just took off," I said.
"I'll take it for awhile, now that I'm done playing flight attendant.
Dinner is served. I'll be back for dessert," he added, and before I
could figure out what he meant, he leaned over and kissed me smack on
the lips. Instinctively, I kissed him back, a long, lingering kiss that
lit a fire in my panties. I treated him to a sensational leg show when
I climbed out of his seat, and as I made my way out of the cockpit I
remembered what one of my old girlfriends used to do to drive me wild,
so I flipped up my skirt to show him my behind. That ought to keep him
awake for a while, I said to myself.
Mom was waiting for me with an amused expression on her face. "If I
didn't know better, I could swear that you have an interest in that
young man," she said between sips of chardonnay.
"He's cute," I replied as I surveyed the sumptuous meal which Rick had
placed on the table by my seat: lobster salad, chicken marsala, and key
lime pie. "Wow, he can cook, too!"
"I suppose I should approve. After all, he's not married, so far as we
know...."
"Just because Jacques has a mistress doesn't make him a bad person. No
self-respecting man in France can exist without one," I pronounced,
reverting to Madeline's Parisian accent.
"Thank God I had your flyboy open another bottle of wine," Mom sighed as
she drained her glass and pulled the second bottle of chardonnay out of
the ice bucket. Other than the occasional toast at a family gathering,
I had never seen her drink, and was a bit of a shock to watch her
getting tipsy. Then again, after her husband's death and her son's sex
change, it was a miracle that she wasn't an alcoholic. I held out my
glass, and soon we were both feeling no pain as we curled up in the
luxurious seats after our delicious dinner. Mom took a little plastic
case from her purse and tossed back a prescription sleeping pill. "I
know I'm not supposed to mix these with alcohol, but your father used to
do it all the time on business, and otherwise I'll never get to sleep.
Would you care for one?"
For some reason, I declined, and before long Mom was sound asleep, with
an eyeshade over her face and headphones pumping Montovani into her
ears. I was sipping the last of the wine when Rick sauntered down the
aisle from the cockpit. He knelt down beside me and took my face in his
hands. "God, you're so beautiful," he said, then he kissed me again, a
long, soulful kiss that started my toes tingling. I felt his hand
sliding up my skirt, caressing my silky legs, and it took me a moment to
realize that I was getting wet, a whole new sensation for me! Without a
word, Rick took my hand and I followed him breathlessly towards the
lavatory at the back of the plane. He opened the door, gently pushed me
inside and closed and locked the door behind us. God, it was so cramped
in there, there was barely room for us to move!
Rick started kissing the back of my neck, and I heard him unfastening
his belt and unzipping his trousers, which fell to the floor. Then he
pressed me against the mirror above the tiny sink and pulled up the back
of my skirt and slip. I felt my panties and hose being tugged down to
my knees, then he started exploring me with his finger, which got me so
excited I thought I was going to come right there. Then he grabbed my
hips hard with both hands and pushed himself inside me. I gave a little
gasp as he pumped away with abandon, snarling with lust while he reached
under my top and played with my tits. I tried not to moan too loud but
it was so hard, as he pumped me again and again, harder and harder.
My eyes were glued to the mirror, and it was almost like an out-of-body
experience, watching this total stranger, who last year might have been
one of Matt's drinking buddies, and the girl who was now me clutching
the front of her skirt and slip with both hands, her pink lips parted in
ecstasy, her blonde hair damp with desire. When Rick told me he was
about to come, it was almost an anticlimax when I felt him explode
inside me. This was not a romantic seduction, it was an old-fashioned
fucking, and even though I didn't come with him, it felt so damn good to
have a man inside me!
We stood there for a few minutes, panting from the exertion, before he
pulled up his trousers, zipped himself up, and returned to the cockpit
after mumbling a few forgettable words of endearment. I squatted down
on the miniature toilet, my head resting in my hands while I waited for
his jism to drip out of me. I felt so wicked! Eventually I pulled
myself together as best I could in the little lavatory, struggling as I
stuffed my tits back into my bra, untwisted my hose and panties and
straightened my slip and skirt.
With apprehension I finally opened the door, wondering whether my mother
might have discovered her daughter's dereliction. But she was still
sound asleep, and I breathed a sign of relief as I wrapped a blanket
around my legs and curled up in my seat. So much for becoming Momma's
little girl! Well and truly fucked, I was soaring to new heights - as a
fully frocked member of the mile high club. It took me a long time to
fall into a restless sleep.
By the author of The Jessica Project
Marisol
- 29.04.2022
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