Seer 1 I See Dying People 1 2 Part 2
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Seer 1. I See Dying People (1/2)Part 1 free porn video
Melissa Jennifer Newick, "Mel" to all her friends, hated flying. With her five feet ten she was usually cramped in most airplane seats. She didn't like to sit still for the amount of time an airplane trip usually demanded, but most of all she disliked that she as unable to get some privacy on an airplane. Wherever she looked there was people and even if they didn't look at her she was sure they were wondering what she was up to, or if she even was right in her head.
Melissa was on her way to college. This was the first time she was going away on her own. It was refreshing, and scary at the same time. Melissa wasn't just scared to take care of her own life because it was a new experience, but because the one time she had tried she had done really bad.
Flying made Melissa feel trapped. She needed to be able to go away and be on her own whenever she felt like it. Not that she was a private person, it was just that sometimes -- she never knew beforehand, not until it was just about to happen -- she had visions. She could always feel it coming. It started as a tickle in her neck, a buzzing in her ears. Then it was happening.
Right now, Melissa was in the middle of a vision. Her hands were clasping the armrests, her were eyes closed and her breathing quickened. She tried to look as if she was resting. She knew no one would believe that. She hoped they would just think she was afraid of flying and dismiss any strange behavior on her part.
Melissa's visions seldom made her experience harmony and calm. Torrents of images were swirling before her, one image replaced by the next in a high, almost unbearable speed. Her mind was flooded with lights and shadows that came so fast she almost didn't have a chance to interpret them before they faded. They came in bright flashes and the perspective changed as if a drunk or craze held the camera of her inner eye.
She had a hard time not twitching. Her knuckles were white and her teeth were clenched together. The images, too fast or not, were telling her a painfully detailed story. It was vivid, as real as if she had been there herself. The vision took place in a small room. Dark. Lit only by a single source of light. Someone was lying on a bed; someone else was standing by it, leaning over the reclining person. Suddenly the standing person climbed the bed, straddled the person in it. They were making love. The presence of danger was tangible. She could almost reach out and touch it.
She would probably have been able to keep her calm if she had only been an observer, but the visions didn't work like that. The point of view constantly changed. One moment she saw the situation from a neutral, third party position, the next she was one of the people in the vision. She experienced everything they did and now, when it was a couple making love, the sensations were impossible to ignore.
Melissa had never been prudish; some of her friends even called her bold and foul-mouthed, but still some of her visions made her cheeks burn with self-consciousness. You would think, she used to think, with my past, these kinds of images should mean little or nothing.
The people in Melissa's visions were never people she knew. That usually didn't bother her. This time, however, she was able to sense danger so imminently it made her stomach hurt. The people in this vision might end up getting seriously harmed, even dead, and she was unable to see their faces properly!
How much Melissa ever tried to focus; she couldn't make out their faces. Instead she was flooded with useless details; the woman had light pink nipples, her breasts were soft, and her skin was smooth, so was her hot, wet pussy. The man was well built; she could feel and see the muscles in his belly and hips tense every time he pushed up at her. He was a burning spear deep inside her, and his coarse pubic hair tickled her clean-shaved crotch.
It annoyed the woman some -- his rough hairs -- but she didn't bother much. She was looking for something much more important than sex. Melissa suddenly understood how essential this was to her. It was more than sex; this was her prayer, her way of worshiping her god. This was her celebration of life. Melissa felt a shiver traveling down her spine. When the man started to gasp in preorgasmic pleasure the vision thankfully switched perspective and Melissa suddenly realized the couple wasn't alone in the room. There was another couple just a few feet from them. Or was she looking into a dark, hazy mirror? She tried to focus on the other couple but as she did the vision faded away into the usual darkness behind her closed eyelids.
Melissa tried to breathe as slowly as she could. She pushed a couple of blond stray hairs behind her ear and glanced at the older lady to her left. Melissa had no cause to worry though; her face had been hidden in shadows and the lady was reading a book, totally oblivious to what may, or may not have been going on in the mind of the girl beside her.
It was like the woman felt touched, maybe by Melissa's thoughts, or more plausibly, her glances. She lowered her book and smiled, "Worried dear?"
Melissa didn't say anything but she frowned and nodded. Better make her think I'm scared of flights than crazy.
Melissa's mother had been suspicious when her youngest daughter had declined to go to any New York university and instead decided to go to Louisiana and attend Moon River College. Melissa knew her mother wanted to have her around so she could keep an eye on her. She felt safe having her mother's eyes on her, but her instincts had told her something completely different; she needed go to Moon River. It was there she would be able to do what she was supposed to. She had no clue what she was supposed to do, but she knew it would happen there, in Moon River.
"I thought you wanted to major in psychology?" her mother had asked her. Melissa had told her mother that Moon River had a psychology program. Her mother had replied that all universities in the New York area had psychology programs too. Melissa had sighed and said that she was going to Moon River and she wanted her mother to stop "fucking around" with her.
Melissa's mother had never agreed with her daughter's language and she didn't do it then either, but when Melissa brought up the only argument her mother couldn't really counter -- she was going to Moon River to get a fresh start, away from the people she knew in New York -- the confrontation ended with her mother mumbling that she only wanted what was best for Melissa.
It was a small triumph that Melissa had been allowed to go. She was actually nineteen years old and she could do whatever she wanted, but since she was still depending on her parents she didn't do that, instead she had to argue and coax until she had what she wanted, or at least something that was as close to that as possible.
She let go of the armrests. Her palms were damp, but it wasn't the only thing that was damp. Melissa sighed. She was sitting by the window, two people between her and the aisle. She gave the woman to her left another glance. She was still reading her book.
"I..." Melissa started, but before she had a chance to finish her sentence, or even unbuckle, the woman beside her got up, pushing her husband to do the same. "I have to go..." Melissa said, her voice trailing off. "Thank you," she smiled while her two fellow-passengers let her by.
In the aisle she headed towards the restrooms. She could feel how the moist spread over her sex and gave her an impression of oily, slickness with each step she took. In an attempt to keep her hands from shaking she balled them into fists.
Melissa felt as if she was stumbling towards the lavatory in an aircraft caught in a hurricane. The reality was that thanks to higher powers, meteorology or sheer luck, the plane kept steady in the air. They had flown into a storm about an hour ago but the weather seemed to have calmed down since then.
Just as Melissa was opening the lavatory door a steward appeared from the crew compartment. He gave her a non-committal smile. "Miss, we are just approaching Moon River now. The seatbelt sign will be on in a couple of minutes."
"How long do I have?" Melissa asked, still nurturing a small hope she had enough time to relieve some of the tension.
"Ten to fifteen minutes, max."
She nodded and stepped into the restroom. Once the door closed behind her she locked it, pulled her fly open and pushed her jeans and panties down to her knees. An airplane restroom isn't the prettiest sight and a few minutes before landing it is at its worst. Melissa didn't even bother to sit down. She pushed her hips forward, parted her thighs as much as the clothes bundled around her legs allowed and buried a hand between her thighs.
Her pussy was so wet she could imagine the sound of it even though the sound of the airplane engine drowned almost all other sounds. She slid her fingers through her oily slit, smearing the juices over her palm. The sensation of her hand against her sensitive pussy sent jolts of pleasure through her, and her belly muscles twitched.
While her right hand caressed between her legs her left hand slid under her sweater where it pushed the bra aside and cupped one of her breasts. She tweaked her nipples while trying to chase the remaining images of the vision away, but any substitute image she could form in her head was easily washed away by the residual sensations of the couple on the bed. Not even the memory of Rita helped.
Melissa moved the hand on her pussy up to her lips. She groaned at the taste. She couldn't leave her self alone for long though and soon her hand shot down between her legs again. She pushed two fingers into herself while the heel of her palm ground against her clit.
Her back arched and a groan escaped her. The smell and taste of pussy juice brought memories of Rita. The vision could not be chased away though. It kept coming back and finally Melissa felt how her own wetness mixed with the sound of the woman's hands on the mans body, the tingling sensation of skin against skin. Melissa could even remember her nostrils being filled with his smell.
"Oh Jesus," she whispered and pushed both her hands between her legs. She slid her fingers over her clit. Close! The friction sent bolts through her, making her body jerk and trash as the sensations took control of her.
She pushed one hand into her mouth to keep from crying. The smell and taste of her own sex made her shiver and as her whole body tensed she raised on her toes, pushing her crotch hard into her own vibrating hand. She could hear the man in the vision scream out his pleasure; he was twitching deep inside her.
The vision had ended there but Melissa's fantasy filled in the blanks. It wasn't hard to imagine how he arched his back, shoving into her the last time, erupting into insanely hot slipperiness. Melissa bit down hard around the scream that wanted to leave her. She tried to get a hold of something, her hand first traveling up the wall then down.
She opened her eyes long enough to locate the wash bowl and in the final climb to the peak she clasped the sink with one hand and rubbed in furious, stabbing speed with the other. She imagined the unknown lover from the vision digging his fingers into her flesh, pulling her hard to him, burying even deeper. She opened her mouth in a silent scream, closed her eyes tightly, and felt her orgasm bloom in her like a ball of fire.
When the pleasure grew to the point where she couldn't contain herself anymore she pushed the back of her head against the wall. A couple of throaty gasps passed her lips and her whole body tensed. The only part of her that wasn't frozen was her right hand. Her whole abdomen felt like it was contracting and she felt slickness spreading inside her. She could imagine the growl of the unknown lover from the vision as he buried deep inside her and came.
She surprised herself when a loud whine escaped her lips, but she managed to clamp down around it while the last throes of her orgasm transformed it into a shivering moan. She tensed again. Her body bucked. Her limbs shook. The hand between her legs relaxed and the intense rubbing was replaced by soft caresses.
When Melissa had caught her breath she straightened her back, grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped some of the juices from her crotch. She buttoned up, washed her hands and before even ten minutes had passed she was back in her seat beside the old lady with the book.
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