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{All characters depicted in this work of fiction are of legal age of consent.}

Beatrix hated flying. Not the act itself. Where flying was concerned, airports were almost always involved; and those microcosms of chaos, noise and stress were the problem. A problem a lady in her fifties honestly didn't have the patience to deal with even on her best days.

Knowing this however, her good friend had sent a private jet to collect her from Skirra's New Haven International. Her hop from the Atlas Archipelago to Dubai promised to be pleasant and stress free from the moment Beatrix sat in the private lounge.

Were she flying coach she was sure that by now her skirt would be ruffled and a ladder would be torn in her stockings. But instead she was lounging quietly with her latest manuscript in dire need of an editorial TLC and a wonderful cup of coffee in her free hand. Behind her the soundproof glass blocked the noise from the rest of the airport, and Beatrix wondered why she hadn't invested in her own private jet long ago. It wasn't like she couldn't afford it.

Though perhaps there was less call for an erotic novelist to travel around the world on a whim. Certainly not as much as her jet-set friend, Martha Priest. Free time was scant these days, with Beatrix trying to meet the deadline for her new book and Martha trying to open a new offshore drilling facility while wrestling with eco-fascists who didn't seem to understand petroleum had other uses besides fuelling cars.

The politics of everything had honestly worn Beatrix down lately. So, when her dear friend suggested an exotic ladies night out in Dubai, she'd literally jumped on the opportunity. Especially when Martha offered to fly her out private.

The handsome young man at check in had helped her with her suitcase, and another had escorted her hassle free through a ludicrously relaxed security checkpoint. No twenty minutes later she was being tended to by a cute flight attendant as they waited for the jet to refuel.

The spotted hyena peered up over the lenses of her half-moon glasses, past the manuscript whose words were beyond familiar at this point, and still managed to leave an aroused tingle between her thighs. Her long legs were elegantly crossed, and she absently slipped her heel out of her shoe, letting it dangle from her stockinged toes.

As the particularly hot section of the book she was due to publish soon stirred the boiling, pent up lust heating her pussy, the sight of Beatrix's flight attendant only threatened to turn that little aroused spark into a raging forest fire.

He was a young anthro mouse, petite enough in his build that he was dwarfed even by Beatrix. Though the hyena's six-inch pumps obviously gave her an advantage. The attendant was lovely though, with sharp, rather girly features of a modern gentleman in his early twenties who groomed about as much as the girls his age did. He had the most gorgeous gold eyes that popped out against his long lashes and light-grey-white fur, with a short bob of wavy golden-blonde hair.

The nametag pinned to his blouse read 'Milo,' but honestly without that detail Beatrix could have easily mistaken him as a stewardess in a male uniform.

Milo was working on the computer, but as Beatrix made some lingering, sneaky looks, she noticed he was making some discreet peeps of his own. Every so often those golden eyes peered past his computer screen and clearly fixed on where her foot was playing with her shoe, before sliding up along the sleek length of her glistening, stocking-clad legs.

Beatrix took pride in her legs above all. True enough, every part of her was ravishing. For a fifty-year-old woman she looked about runway ready, with a trim, tapered waist that flowed out into curvy hips hugged by her pencil skirt, and an ample set of firm, perky breasts that were the wet dream of many young men who crossed her path. But it wasn't the top few buttons of her shirt falling open to reveal the crimson lace framed cleavage that took Milo's attention.

Biting her bottom lip, Beatrix silently complimented the boy on his taste. Even she could appreciate a long-legged lady and the sexy grace of it. She was a bit of a sucker for gams herself - whenever she was ogling a potential female lover anyway. Especially lately, the way young ladies always wore those tight fit-wear leggings. Yoga-pants, she's pretty sure they called them. Spotting a nice set of legs with a juicy ass begging to be squeezed as almost all too easy these days.

Beatrix didn't consider herself bisexual, she just liked what she liked and avoided letting labels hold her back from what she desired to have.

There was ring on the landline, and Milo seemed to catch himself. Jerking his eyes from Beatrix's legs, he yanked up the phone and exchanged several words with the person on the other side. Then straightening out his jacket and brushing a few creases out of his slim fitted pants, the young man quickly marched over with a winning smile.

Beatrix quickly slipped her glasses off and stuck one of the arms into her mouth, returning his smile. "Yes?" she asked expectantly.

"We're ready to board, madam. Your luggage has been loaded and the pilot has clearance to taxi. I'll walk you to the plane now."

Sliding her things into her handbag and slipping it over her shoulder, Beatrix stood elegantly, then quickly slipped her hands around Milo's arm, like a lady to be led to the dance floor. "After you, young man."

It didn't take long for them to take off. There was much less of a fuss getting the jet to the runway, then ascending to cruising altitude. No more than twenty minutes later, Beatrix was able to open her seatbelt and move around the cabin.

The plane wasn't particularly big, nor did it have any need to be. It was just a cockpit, the main seating area arranged more like a comfortable lounge than a commercial airliner stacking people on top of each other like a cattle transport, with a toilet and a kitchenette towards the tail end.

Drying her hands, she dropped the paper towel in the toilet bin and went to leave before thinking for a moment. She then turned back and flushed the toilet, if only to keep up the right appearance. Then she straightened out the ruffles in her skirt as moist pussy walls clenched down on the hard presence inside her excited canal. Her senses rippled pleasantly around the real reason she'd visited the toilet, and as the small wave of pleasure that shook her thighs and curled her toes finally passed, she clicked off the lock and stepped out with a soft clack of her heels on the carpet.

Milo stood just outside, his hands folded behind his back and a polite smile on his lips. He was no doubt innocently idling in the kitchenette, but Beatrix got a lot more pleasure out of the idea the naughty boy was just listening to her on the toilet.

"Can I get you anything, madam?" he asked.

"Certainly. I'd like a glass of water please," Beatrix said pleasantly.

As Milo set to work, Beatrix idled instead of returning to her seat. Her red eyes spotted a neatly folded uniform in a cubby nearby, the telltale lines of a feminine cut blouse and a skirt not too dissimilar from Beatrix's, along with a pair of matching blue pumps with narrow heels and tapered toes. Laying on top was a bag, some sort of makeup kit.

"Spare uniform?" Beatrix asked, drawing Milo's attention to it.

"Yes, madam. Miss Priest's flight attendants are always on call. Sometimes we hardly have time to change into our uniform if there is an emergency flight. So, we keep spares aboard."

"I only see a lady's uniform."

Milo did a double take. "Oh, I'm certain my spare is around here somewhere."

"What a pity." Beatrix sidled up behind Milo; his whole body seized as he felt her firm breasts press against his back, then her hands slide over his hips up to his abdomen. "I always prefer a stewardess to tend to my needs when I fly. There's something very aesthetic about those lovely ladies."

Milo was silent except for his breath catching in his throat.

"I have an idea," Beatrix said softly. "I'm certain you'd look simply gorgeous in a stewardess outfit. Why don't you change for me?"

"I-... I... what?" Milo stammered, staring straight ahead, trying to make sense of what was being asked of him.

"You know who I am, don't you?" she whispered.

Milo nodded. "Y-yes, madam. B-b-but-..."

"Your employer is a very close friend of mine. You wouldn't want Martha to hear that you've done anything to displease her best friend, now would you?"

"No," Milo whispered harshly, a tremor running down his spine. His manicured nails were digging into the plastic countertop hard enough to leave little white trails in the surface. "N-no, of course not. P-please, madam. I need this job..."

"Good. Then I'm sure you'll do what needs to be done to make sure my request has been met," Beatrix whispered in Milo's large round ear, before letting her hands slip away from his body.

She slid the lady's uniform out of the cubby hole and pressed it gently into Milo's hands with a small smile. The seed planted, she strutted back to her seat. And easing back into the comfortable cushions, facing away the front of the plane, she crossed her long legs, playing the waiting game.

Milo thankfully didn't let her wait too long. Before long she heard a soft rap of high heels on the carpet in a similar fashion to her own earlier. And when Beatrix turned her head to look, she was simply unable to contain her gleeful smile.

Emerging from the toilet in a female attendant's uniform, Milo thoroughly looked the part. The sleek cut of his other uniform was good, but this one fitted him much better, revealing his slender body to the full. He was of course flat chested, but the overall collage still gave him the convincing look of a flat chested girl. His legs were very long and slim, and looked simply great in that small blue skirt.

He was even wearing makeup, some light eye shadow and mascara drawing out his already effeminate lashes with a glossy pink sheen on his lips completing the ensemble. He didn't have to do anything with his hair, it suited him down to the ground where he planted those four-inch heels with incredible confidence - despite his slightly slumped shoulders and an embarrassed look in his golden eyes.

Beatrix was shocked at how little effort it had taken to convince Milo. Perhaps the boy really had no backbone and let powerful older women walk all over him all the time. Or maybe he liked dressing like a girl, and all he needed was the right excuse. Beatrix honestly wasn't sure which prospect excited her more.

"Well-well-well," she breathed with a smile. "Where did this lovely young lady stow away then?"

Milo set the glass of water down in front of Beatrix, saying in a light, airy and impressively effeminate voice, "Here is your drink, madam."

Beatrix's smile only deepened.

"That makeup is applied very skilfully," she complimented, then let her eyes slide down over those long, tapered legs to the pumps on his feet. "Your voice is very convincing as well. And you're handling those high heels very gracefully. If I didn't know any better, Milo, I'd say you've done this before."

The accusation had Milo blushing furiously as he gave the floor an introverted stare. Beatrix had her answer however. And the answer was good enough to ignite a fresh little tingle of desire in Beatrix's core. She almost wanted to lift her skirt and slide a hand down her panties e and ask Milo to do a little twirl while she fingered herself. But patience won out and she tempered her desire. They had several more hours of flight left. Plenty of time to draw out the pleasure.

Sitting up a little, Beatrix sniffed the air. "Hmmm, you look like a girl. But there's more of a male musk on you. Though the sights and sounds are impressive enough... I wonder if you taste like a pretty girl?"

A little bit of Milo's masculinity broke through as his trembling voice cracked. "M-madam, please."

Her eyes flitted down and she could clearly see what was bothering the lad. A small bulge was pressing out the front of the skirt. Boldly Beatrix reached up under and felt along the hard member straining through the soft silky strip of fabric. Beatrix gasped at what she felt. Not because she was particularly impressed by the mouse's cock, but more at the feel of the lady's panties he wore.

The question was, had he found those on board, or had he been wearing those under his pants all along?

Milo in the meantime was gasping at Beatrix's firm touch and she felt him thrust slightly into her hand.

"Good girl," she whispered, and the words made Milo's small cock throb harder against her touch. As quickly as she groped him she pulled back and pointed at the floor beside her. "Kneel here."

"Madam?"

"You heard me, girl. Kneel for me."

Gingerly, Milo did, eyes innocently gazing up at Beatrix questioningly. Beatrix at the same time slipped her foot out of a shoe and angled her legs closer. Her stockinged toes with the chocolate coloured spots on her fur showing through the sheer nylon on her legs hooked under Milo's skirt and elegantly pulled the garment up over his hips. Then the ball of her foot came down to where the mouse's cock curled against the tight fabric designed to cradle lady parts, not a stiffening cock desperate to be milked by a lady's smooth, nylon sheathed feet.

When her toes slid down the elastic waistband of the panties, freeing Milo's cock, Beatrix wasted no time in smoothly gliding the underside of her sleek foot up and down the shaft. Her toes curled over the tip to massage the tapered glans. And the effect on Milo was instantaneous.

His hands flew forward to caress the woman's sleek calf, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his wet, pink lips parted to release a girly moan.

Beatrix gave a womanly chuckle. "Don't think I didn't see you ogling my legs earlier, young lady. I know exactly what you're into. You like the feel of my feet on your little girl-cock, don't you?"

Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to suppress another long moan, Milo could only nod vigorously as his hands slid higher up Beatrix's leg and stroked her thigh. He was leaning in closer, humping his cock against her smooth sole. He wanted to hug her long slender legs, lick every inch of them from her toes, up to the precious treasure trove where her thighs met.

And Beatrix was ought to let him. Though again, she was in no rush.

"Hands by your side," she snapped tersely, and Milo jolted back as if struck. "I have a little work to do, Milo. You are not to move, nor are you to touch yourself," Beatrix instructed as she produced her phone. Then she added with a smirk, "Oh, but you can moan if you like."

And moan Milo did. No sooner had Beatrix unlocked her phone to browse through the apps, did the stroking of her sole resume; the teasing of her toes, the caress of the ball of her foot up and down the underside of his shaft. A small bead of precum appeared at the tip as Milo's whole body stiffened. His head rolled back and he let out a delighted, keening squeak, almost failing Beatrix's instructions to hold still.

Beatrix smiled to herself. She wasn't going to let Milo have all the fun. The feel of his hot, throbbing cock, as small and slender as it was, felt nice against her foot. The way it reacted against her touch made a small trickle of desire run into her own panties, and she clenched her inner muscles on the obstruction again.

She flashed her thumb over the screen of her phone, the receiver tied to her garter sent a message through the slender pink cable running into her panties, and the small egg nestled deep inside her canal began to gently vibrate. A small pulse at first, sending a shiver up her spine as her toes splayed out over Milo's crown, catching that bead of precum and rubbing it into his sensitive flesh like a salve.

Pretending to look at work on her phone, she worked her thumb up along the screen, teasing her g-spot with little pulses and vibrations and despite the free flow of pleasure soaking into her panties, Beatrix managed to keep a straight face. In the corner of her eyes ,as she gave Milo an absent-minded footjob, she saw he didn't have nearly as good a poker face as she did. And that alone was able to put a devious little grin on the corner of her mouth.

The moisture of his precum was soaking between her toes and she saw his member glisten with the wetness, as if his shaft were decorated with a thousand little diamonds. She wondered what that hot little thing would feel like between her fingers, so slippery and wet. Or better yet, inside her. The small size meant it wouldn't do much to stretch her out, nor completely scratch the itch at her core. But it was that hot, slippery intimacy that got Beatrix off more than having every nook and cranny of her pussy pounded by some neanderthal brute.

She had days where she could really do with a big cock. But today was one of those days a little one like Milo's would be more than enough, given it was attached to such a lovely visage.

She just hoped Milo lasted against the onslaught of her foot so he might be worthy of such a reward as to feel inside her...

---

Continue reading with the sex scene that suits you best (or read 'em both, I won't mind):

Vanilla Vaginal Sex Version

Pegging Sex Version

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