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A story for anyone who has ever wondered just how friendly "the friendly skies" could be.

The following entry into the "Mile High Club" is brought to you, courtesy of fa ! matthewbrandon thanks to a generous grant from the FA: tobiwanze foundation

Continuity Note: Are You Being Attended takes place after the events of Arse Over Elbows However, it can be read as a single story without spoiling the narrative.

Disclaimer: The character of Purgatory Brezoianu is an outrageously sexy archetype, meant to thrill and delight, but is not meant to be a comment on any transgender individual, or the transgender experience. As ever, I implore you to treat fantasies as fantasies, and people as people.

Also, if it does not fit, you must quit. Give your partner time to adjust, consider some toys, and never forget the lubrication.

Please to enjoy!

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Are You Being Attended? By Bishiebunny

Candice's name-tag said Candi.

This was thanks to a printer error that never quite got sorted. It seemed an awful lot of bother to correct, and besides, her fiance had found it good for a laugh. The pleasantly plump badger was hardly a Candi, though even he had to admit she had the curves for one. The fact that he appreciated her more for her bravado, and less for her bounce, was one of the many reasons she adored the man.

She also agreed. One had to smoke cheap cigs, drink cheaper beer, and date some tosser in a track suit, to be a Candi. Of course, one needn't be a complete chav to be a Candi, but it helped.

Candi was also the name of a woman who might spend much time spinning around a well-greased pole, spilling glitter about her clients' laps. Not that Candice would have looked amiss in tassels and a quid-laden thong. It just had no place in her carefully controlled world. Beside, she was less statuesque, and much more burlesque. Standing a solid five foot, two inches in her stocking feet, the black-haired, bright eyed beauty possessed the widely rounded bottom and ample bosom that had her peers whispering MILF in hushed, lecherous tones. Having somehow stumbled into this voluptuous look well shy of graduation, she could see how a Candi might fit, in another life.

But certainly not in this one. The driven badger had her eyes on the skies, and with a perky, can-do attitude, and a bit of folksy, Northerner charm, she had made her dreams come true. Candice was a proud member of British Airway's fine crew of flight attendants. While she was happy to share a flirtatious chuckle with any passenger who made much of her mislabeled tag, she was always efficient, charming, and professional. What else could she be?

Candice had clocked in nearly twelve hundred training hours before she had been allowed to don her laughable name-tag, and the smart-looking cap that went with it. Since then, she had logged in eight hundred service hours without fault. Of those, nearly two hundred had been spent attending to Club World clients. The business elite were appreciative of a friendly face, attached to a pleasing figure, especially one that kept a respectful distance while tending to their needs.

Not that every passenger had the grace to recognize the importance of a courteous divide. The Americans, for instance, seemed to think there was ample room to invade one's professional, even personal space. One American, in particular, was currently invading hers with a vigor the bouncing badger could hardly credit. Two thousand hours of a perfect record had been blown all to hell in just one.

Her short, quivering frame was bent over the preparation table of the world famous, or so the literature said, Club Kitchen. She was alone with the lustful Yank, which was a shame, because it had to be quite a show. There was another attendant who might have watched, a young male stoat who had been scandalized to learn he was not allowed to wear a nice skirt like the one that had been unhooked from Candice's wide hips. He was just cheeky enough to put the kettle on while they settled in for tea and well-fucked strumpets, but he had opted to bugger off, both figuratively and literally, with the Club Kitchen chef, a grizzled Scottish terrier.

Apparently the pair had been playing "Hows Your Father" for weeks, and were keen on any chance to steal a few illicit moments.

Abandoned by her workmates, it was just the two of them, getting closer all the time; all thanks to a demanding thrust, and several squirts of smuggled lubricant. Candice's dark pantyhose had been ripped open for easy access, her left leg held up in an extended arch, and her groan muffled by the wet panties stuffed between her lips. At some point, she had lost her a shoe. The patent leather flat lay discard on the ground, baring her toes which curled about bunched, sheer fabric. She trembled as a cock beyond anything she, or her fiancee, could have ever dreamed, stretched her quivering sex to what must have been its absolute limit. When that monster of a pulsing shaft pulled back, it tugged at her inner muscles, making the well-fucked badger feel as though she might just be pulled inside-out.

Inevitably, it slammed back home, pressing a plump cap so deep, it threatened to pierce straight through her innermost depths, to throb, engorged, inside of her womb. God, that should have hurt, it should have been agony. No matter how much lubricant the woman had slapped onto the beast or pressed inside of her sex, it was simply beyond comprehension. And yet she felt another orgasm crash over her, drowning her senses in a wave of liquid light. Candice gazed down with lidded eyes, trying to process the cock inside of her, and the obvious bulge it created as it tunneled its way through her system. F-fuck, that shouldn't be possible, should it? It was unmaking her, set to leave a gaping void that would feel her lover's absence as an unquenchable, hungry emptiness, right through her core.

Again, it pulled back. Candice's toes spread in a gasp, then curled into a cramp when her lustful Yank pressed hooker-red lips to her satin-shod sole. The towering beauty, currently fucking the ever-loving shit out of the voluptuous badger, was a strangely romantic lover. When the well-endowed canine slammed forward once more, the humid clop of their meeting flesh echoed through-out the small room. The spasm of it caused Candice to knock over a freshly prepared orange mousse, soon forgotten as her greedy partner settled into a steady back and forth, pounding the writhing woman into a blissful quiver.

Somebody was not going to get their pudding, but that somebody was not Candice.

At seven-foot two, with a cock that could be politely considered massive, even relative to her height, Purgatory Brezoianu seemed to have no trouble turning it up to eleven, even when humping furiously at a woman who could hardly handle a three, maybe a four at most. Five was right out. Well, the pretty, curvy badger would adapt; they always did. Oh it was all "that's way too big, I couldn't possibly" and "y-you're destroying my ass" or "who are you, and what are you doing to my wife," in the beginning. But inch by inch, gallon by gallon, they always endured her sinful stretch, filled just shy of bursting. In the end, they always had a fantastic time together, especially those husbands who came to realize that couples night at Purgatory's was a two-fer.

Her long, flat tongue slipped out from crimson lips, signaling the approach of her release. Purgy's heavy breasts, each a couple of letter grades above those of the well-skewered badger moaning atop her cock, bounded merrily back and forth, up and down, slamming together along her chest, keeping the rhythm of her fuck. She casually flicked an errant strand of her signature, red-white-and blue hair from her face, getting ready to guide her jumbo jet in for a landing. This lovely little fuck buddy, Candi by her name tag, had been just the warm-up the husky had needed. Judging by the drool dribbling from the poor attendant's lips, and the near constant spasm of an overloaded, sloppy cunt, her playmate was just about done.

Shame, they were hardly half-way through foreplay, and the badger was inches, or was that gallons, away from blacking out. Purgy really should have locked down that cute weasel-looking boy with the pink cheeks. But his fuzzy terrier boyfriend had growled, clutching an awfully big butcher's knife. Eh, it was still a lap dog versus a wolf, but far be it from her to get in the way of true, perverted bliss. You could hardly blame the older man for robbing the cradle when the babe in question had a shovel tucked away, and an eye on the grave.

Not that it mattered, come to think of it, she had a schedule to keep. Purgy had wasted enough time on the appetizer, as succulent and sweet as the writhing badger had been. She gripped the woman's thick, yet left leg, running her long tongue up from calf to toes in a lustful lap, and then sunk herself just as deep as she dared. Being who and what she was, that was a good six or seven inches deeper than anyone else would, or could. It temporarily stirred her playmate from the flight attendant's sex-dazed stupor.

Candice felt the monster pulsing so deep, it cramped her stomach. Purgy's cock had finally made good its threat, and her entire body arched, thunderstruck by the beast's rammed rod. Her arms flailed, her toes spread, her jaw opened in an over-excited howl that threatened to crack her jaw. Had damp panties not blocked the way, she might have screamed loud enough to wake up the entire plane. Instead, it came out as a muffled, wet whimper. Then everything tensed, from her tips to her toes. The metaphorical wet center within trembled, rippling all about its surface, waiting for what was to come. It wouldn't be long. She could feel the husky's heartbeat through the thick vein pressed against her stretched, inner walls.

For Candice, the day Purgatory erupted inside of her soon-to-be-flooded womb, was the single most mind-blowing erotic experience of her life. For Purgatory, it was Tuesday.

Or was it Wednesday? Monday? Purgy always had trouble with time zones. Whatever the day, it was a pretty good one. She stretched, arching her back, relaxing her tense frame as her cock continued to ejaculate thick, molten loads into a warm body that had passed out from exertion and orgasmic overload. She let her thick shaft have its fun. Once driven to this point, her cock tended to take care of itself. While it was tempting to join shaft in its pleasurable rut, Purgatory used the release, and the clarity that came from not having to think of ways to achieve said release, to consider her luck.

Candi had been an absolute godsend. The short, stacked woman had made for a delightful diversion, soothing Purgatory's frequent need to pump a few spare gallons into whatever was warm, wet, and handy. But more importantly, the badger's lush, baby-making hips had solved the conundrum of finding a flight attendant uniform that fit. When it came to clothes, the titanic husky had always been a custom job. She had hoped to find an equestrian solution, though that would have required a much longer fuck to put the beauty down into a blissful slumber; they were used to stallions, after all.

Such a filly might have fit the towering husky's build better, but Purgy only had so long to work her magic. It was better to bang out a sweet little, curvy cutey, whose skirt would be well short, but whose waist would leave room to spare. To be fair to Candi, the adorable morsel had held on longer than the husky had thought she might. Oh yes, she had, and for all her earlier protests about "we mustn't" and "it's too big" and "I'm engaged," she handled the husky's A-list screwing like a trooper.

Purgatory smiled affectionately at the baby-battered badger, pulling her spent cock from the woman's swollen, reddening sex with an audible shlorp. Pints of white tumbled free of glistening folds, but even more luck was with the husky. She managed to pry the woman's pantyhose off those full-figured thighs without messing the fabric. She reached around to unbutton the badger's jacket, leaving both scarf and blouse. The former wasn't really her style, and she could have never fit the latter without bursting a button or two. Purgy then removed panties soaked with arousal, and the attendant's excited saliva, slipping them into her carry-on bag as a souvenir. Finally, she tucked the bottomless beauty on a nearby recliner, making sure to buckle the badger in.

It would be a shame for the poor thing to hit her head during a bit of turbulence. Well, more turbulence than she had already experienced.

"Such a good girl," Purgy smiled, leaning down and laying a kiss on the badger's forehead, laving a perfect impression of her lips in red. "You just lay back and sleep it off, hun. Tomorrow you can tell your fiance that he is the only one for you. I'm pretty sure I fucked the urge for strange cock right the hell out of yah." It was true, Purgatory was surprisingly good for long lasting relationships. Once one had her shaft pulsing within, or her breasts wrapped around one's head, nobody else quite measured up. Afterward, most couples settled down into something more comfortable, more domestic, less likely to leave them leaking warm cream in a back alley with the husky's thong stuffed between their lips.

Speaking of, Purgatory pulled out an extra thong from her bag, not sure where the one she had been wearing had gotten off to. As it turned out, the sticky article had landed on a plate destined to be served to well-to-do ad exec who worked almost exclusively with faith-based programing. He would end up pocketing the panties and rating the flight a half-point higher than he had intended.

Going with a star-spangled model to commemorate the event, Purgy used the custom-fitted undies to clean the excess fluids off her slick, semi-sated cock. She pressed the near saturated pair between the slumbering attendant's thighs, soaking up a bit of the fluid that was leaking into the woman's seat. A thoroughly fucked flight attendant was Purgatory Brezoianu's art after all, and that was how she signed her work.

"Now then," Purgatory hopped on the neighboring seat, bunching up the dark pantyhose, grateful for the give inherent to the fabric. Arching the sort of foot that had fetishists grovel before them, she slunk her feminine, well-pedicured toes into the material, sliding effortlessly down the glossy sheer. She let it hang a bit loose before slipping her other foot in, spreading the clingy nylon with her toes, then letting it slip up her long, well-toned, shapely legs. There was no crotch to be found, having ripped it open in her excitement early that evening. But when one is as well-endowed as the virile husky, that was a good thing. Her own pantyhose had a little pocket, a cock-pit, if you will, but she was going for a more authentic look, and nothing custom would have felt right.

Besides, she enjoyed the warmth that still radiated from the fabric, along with just enough of Candi's scent to give her spent cock a twitch. "Down boy, can't have you flipping the skirt. Not just yet." Around and snug went that skirt, and she considered its length judiciously. On her, it fell a few inches below where a shoujo skirt might. Good for punishing evil in the name of the moon, bad for anyone trying to look the least bit professional. Well, she supposed it depended on the profession. Regardless, it covered the majority of the junk in her overstuffed trunk, and now that her cock had been cowed, you could only really get a peek of it, if it swayed just so. Or, if she became aroused. Or sat down, or... it would have to do.

The jacket was the hardest to settle in place. It was fine around her shoulders but it stopped well short of where it should, exposing an awful lot of midriff. Worse, her bountiful bosom would only accept one button. Her cleavage spilled out, above and below, making for something that looked a lot less uniform, and a lot more slutty Halloween cosplay. Again, she would make do. It was not as though she meant to spend a whole lot of time wearing the outfit.

It was the hat that she fell in love with; it was that one glorious accessory that brought the whole ensemble together. She stood before a vanity mirror, likely installed so the wait staff could be sure they were looking their smartest before heading out to hustle dessert items, and considered the effect. Not bad, not bad at all. "Ello guv'ner. Coffee, tea, or me?"

No, wait, what was it her instructions had said? Do not attempt to fake an accent, right? Her face fell into a pout. That was most of the fun. Well, a good chunk of it anyway. If the detailed descriptions were to be believed, her target had a cock to be proud of. Not that she minded something a little more modest. Honestly, her playmate's measurements hardly mattered. Purgatory always had her fun.

Slipping back into her black ballet flats, hardly needing much in the way of heels at her height, she decided it was past since time she went out and had some more.

***

Meanwhile, a handful of kilometers above a sprawling ocean, and several meters away from a sprawling, well-soaked badger, a certain pimp cat was enjoying luxury accommodations about one of British Air's finest aeroplanes.

Tobi pondered the near-private "suite" that probably cost more than his entire collection of exotic pimp canes. That included the one largely dominated by a life-sized, solid gold horse cock with a real, honest-to-god pearl at its tip. He had always considered himself top shelf, but now that he was sitting on the actual rack, he was beginning to feel an awful lot like a domestic brew.

This. This was posh, this was public school, this was "a bit of alright." He had his own aisle, his own window, his own low walls surrounding him with a curtain that he could use to separate himself from the rest of the cabin. The chair was plush, came with a footstool, and converted directly into a bed, rather than simply tilting back to just shy of a chiropractor's wet dream. There were no babies spewing, fuming, and caterwauling, no one to kick the back of his seat, and the largest, sweatiest passenger in view had his own private island, and was doing quite nicely, likely dreaming of sausages.

The personal compartments came with tablets, and dedicated wi-fi, because nobody really expected the chairperson of a multinational corporation to turn off her or his electronic device, simply because of a captain's order. One had one's choice of liquid refreshments, so long as it was a serious vintage, none of which were infected by umbrellas or crazy straws. On the other hand, one's meal was predetermined, because nothing disturbed a chef's mojo quite like an ignorant customer who was determined to make a bad choice.

Still, when all was said and done, the private boxes were basically cubicles. That was what they all boiled down to. They were tiny little office spaces, cramped quarters filled with work stations, and chairs you were not meant to leave for a solid eight hours. It would have all been deliciously ironic, were the alternative not such a soul-crushing experience. Club World's business class might be a taste of the day-to-day dreary for the corporate elite, but for everyone else? The plane was a flying movie theater with impossibly cramped seating, tiny screens, and a scandalous concession stand.

Having never worked an "honest" day in his life, Tobi was quite comfortable in his private box.

Yet, he was wary of how he might have earned the privilege. Pimp cats were not the sort to get randomly bumped about the social strata. Well, not in an upwardly mobile direction. That was reserved for people who knew people. Not that he didn't know people; Tobi knew quite a few. The trouble was that most of those people did their best to pretend they didn't know him. It was difficult to call in a favor when every important person you knew used a code name, and typically wandered in the club wearing borrowed hoodies, and dark sunglasses.

Granted, he had enough dirt to bury half of the socialites in London, but that was a tricky sort of power. It was like an atomic handgun; pull the trigger and even if you were miles away from the target, you were liable to get vaporized. Luckily, Tobi didn't have to bother with such things as blackmail or firearms, he had a Madam Hazel.

She could have certainly pulled a few strings, and nobody would have batted an eye, unless she had commanded them to. Unluckily, Madam Hazel also had him, by the short and curlies, as it were. She rarely authorized expenditures like this, even if it just involved a flex of erotic power. His infernal employee seemed to prefer keeping her boss in a constant state of inconvenience. He figured it was to prevent his head from swelling too big for his feathered hats.

Then again, it had to be Hazel, but why now, why this trip? More importantly, why in hell was Purgatory Brezoianu swaying seductively about the cabin, wearing three-fifths of a flight attendant uniform?

Tobi knew the hair, the stature, the impossible curves that were subjecting her skimpy outfit to pressures far beyond those endured by the cabin. If that button went, the sudden decompression of those double Gees might just suck the lot of them into her cleavage. Granted, from what he knew about her stats, she could do the same with her lips if she decided to inhale with purpose. Of course the pimp cat knew Purgy, everyone in the industry knew her.

Some knew her as legend, spoken of in hushed, guttural whispers. Others named her a force of nature, one that had totaled entire brothels once their owners had foolishly accepted one of her infamous sex challenges. She was like one of those dojo destroyers in the old kung-fu movies, the ones that broke a school's sign after shattering the sifu's back. Only, Purgatory preferred taking on the entire bordello at once, and while she had never killed any one, despite the rumors, what she left were piles of sticky, quivering, exhausted bodies, pumped full of husky seed. It was hard to run a business when three-fourths of your staff were putting in for maternity leave and the rest were having difficultly sitting down.

Not that Tobi had never actually witnessed such an event, or knew anyone who did. It was probably a gross exaggeration. You sponsored a couple of orgies with a super star headliner, you were bound to be in for a wild ride. Still, the more his eyes followed that tremendous, towering figure, the less gross that exaggeration seemed.

No, that was stupid. This was stupid. There was no way Purgatory Brezoianu was on this flight. And she sure as hell was not working it as an attendant.

Tobi glared at his empty glass. Never drink from a bottle whose cap you can't pry open with your teeth. That was Eli's motto, and it seemed the mad coyote had been right. So he was... what, dreaming? Had the prissy brew taken hold of his senses, and left Tobi's real body to slumber while his subconscious had been teleported to a bawdy, 1970's comedy? T-that could happen. It was certainly more believable than, oh shit, she's coming this way!

"Well hello there, hun," Purgatory smiled, laying her upper arms along either side of the suite's low walls. Trying their damnedest to burst free of her jacket's trembling bondage, her already inflated floatation devices squeezed snugly between the opening, blocking the cute kitty inside. "Whoops, I meant sir. I see someone opted for the premium package."

The hyper husky leaned a well-rounded hip against one side of the creaking enclosure, arching just enough that her own premium package came into view. Her skirt was having a better time of it than her jacket, it simply rolled up at her hips, letting her thickening cock sway. Her balls likewise peeked under the fabric, giving her a curious sort of double under-boob, when considered alongside her chest. "How may this angel of the skies attend you?"

Wait, did her name-tag say, Candi? No, there couldn't be two women with those measurements, or such an insatiable will to put them to use. This was just a guest star appearance to boost the ratings. Well, she was certainly boosting his, and this was shaping up to be a bit more "Are You Being Served," and bit less "Fawlty Towers."

Come on man, you've prepared for this for the better part of your adolescent life. What are the rules? Were there any? It pretty much just boiled down to not saying, "should I get my cock out." He could do that, surely. Innuendo, right? Licking suddenly dry lips, Tobi gave it go, "U-hm, could you, err... fluff my pillow?"

Arching a white eyebrow, licking lips that were ever so moist, Purgy cooed in a throaty voice, "Pillow, sir? And here I thought you might want something else fluffed," There was no mistaking where those ruby eyes wandered, or how appreciative they were of the feline's obvious arousal. It might not have been the match of the husky's ridiculous length, but it was well-beyond merely serviceable. She could hardly wait to fit the kitty cock inside of her, but that was why she had so thoroughly ravaged a badger's interior, to buy herself a little patience. Besides, she was having her fun. "Though, if its pillows on sir's mind, perhaps he'd prefer our deluxe models." Purgy reached to her borrowed jacket, snapping the button off and letting it fall to the ground.

The feline's eyes went wide as snow-white, pink-capped mountains tumbled toward him in an avalanche of sweat-stained flesh. Bloody, wait for it, hell. "S-should I get my cock out?" Dammit!

Purgatory laughed, low and sinful. She turned to look behind her, and found she had gauged the time about right. What few passengers had been able to afford the luxury of this cabin were either asleep, or had their heads buried in work. The husky temptress could have sprayed their little personal boxes with freshly pumped cream and not attracted much attention beyond a request for a wet nap. Good, very good. Turning back to her newest toy, she reached down and cradled her heavy breasts. "Probably for the best, sir. Restrictive clothing can be a hazard, you know, in cases of sudden impact."

Okay, still in this! No more letting his mind wander off script. That was a sure fire way to break the spell and twist a wet dream into something horrid, misshapen. Nothing worse than ruining a perfectly good nighttime emission as your drowsy brain decided to check channels. Purgy could end up as Papa Lazarou in a twinkling. Oh god, why are you even thinking that? Trying to keep Purgatory's perfect breasts firmly in mind, Tobi unbuttoned, unzipped, and unbottomed, baring his white legs, and a sulky cock, now only semi-hard after the feline's unfortunate thought.

Purgatory blinked, wondering why the pretty kitty's piece had suddenly lost some of its pulse. Was she losing her touch? Giving her big girls a jiggle, she lifted one of her fat, bloated nipples till she could catch it with her teeth, applying just enough pressure to cause her legs to shake, and her feminine center to melt. There we go, she had his attention again. Still, maybe these London lads needed a bit of coaxing first. Well, she could most certainly do that. "Actually, it's a bit early for bed, and you don't seem all that tired. Perhaps some relaxation first? Would sir enjoy a foot rub?"

W-was that innuendo for something? Or had he already diverted the plot to someplace a little less Lady Chatterley, and a little bit more Fry and Laurie? No, he could turn it around, just focus. Follow the script. "Sure thing love, rub away."

The travel cubicle got awfully crowded by curves when Purgatory slipped within. Her large breasts ground wickedly against the feline's face as she settled atop the little leg stool that was part of the executive suite. Smiling to herself, she was obviously pleased by his reaction, or at least the reaction of his suddenly quite interested shaft. She leaned back, bracing herself along the top of the cubicle, and raising one long, perfectly shaped leg, till her shoe was dangling just inches from the feline's face. She let it dance for a moment, rolling it playfully atop her satin-clad toes. "Be a darling, sir, and get that for me."

Tobi squeaked, on the verge of being knocked out by American thighs. Eyes followed the seductive arch of her foot and then down, soaking in the sights. His gaze traveled under a plump, well-muscled calf, then rode the slope upward into the sensitive bit just under the husky's knee, before finally tumbling back down into a lush hip. All of it shimmered in her dark, strategically ripped pantyhose. Her legs ended under a skirt that had ridden up so short, it was practically a belt. Settled snug and warm between, Purgy's exposed cock pulsed, pinkish except at the head where it seemed an almost angry red, dribbling pre about his footrest, and over her own, heavy orbs.

"Go on now, sir, I've been up on them all day." Purgy feigned a pout, "takes a lot out of a girl, when she has this much merchandise to move."

He had never been especially enamored by overwhelming smells, unless they involved plenty of spilled seed, or over-excited, near drooling feminine heat. Still, the flavor of Purgy's offered foot was a light, earthy aromatic that mixed her natural scent, the warmed leather interior of her shoe, and her tight's unique fragrance. Instead of laying heavy on the tongue, or sharp in the nose, it was more subtle, teasing. He found himself wanting a bit more, his hand sliding up and along her silken sole. Tobi slipped her shoe off to one side and ran his thumb along the ball of her foot, which had been heated by the exertions of the day.

"So I'm the one doing the rubbing, eh?" Tobi smiled, fingers moving to dance along the top of the husky's foot, his other hand running along her calf to support, cup, and squeeze. "I suppose that's not so bad." A little domestic for a wet dream, but he found he was enjoying himself. Going by the expression on Purgy's face, and the way her toes first curled, then spread to accept his touch, so was she. Maybe he should offer these same services to Hazel, assuming he could nudge a certain bunny away from her soles, where she usually kept him.

Purgatory smirked, reaching down to slip her other foot free. "Oh I believe we can handle a little give and take, sir." She raised her freed pad, slow and sensual, grinding her satin-clad calf along the feline's own. Still using those ridiculously expensive cubicle walls for support, she slid a warm, sheer sole between Tobi's legs, her painted toes gliding along snow-white inner thighs, dipping just under his stiffening shaft. Spreading those same digits, she caught the head of his cock within the netted web that formed.

Tobi grunted, arching his back and nearly dropping Purgatory's other foot, causing the ball of it to brush across his parted lips. As her spread toes slid along the length of his shaft, wrapping his pulse in a sheer catch, he began to purr. With her other pad in hand, he began pressing warm kisses along its surface, following its elegant arch. He had seen his bunny employee do the same, and he was starting to see the sense of it. Nuzzling his cheek along her soft sole, he felt a plump gob of gooey pre tumble from the head of his cock and landing to dribble along his partner's tights.

Her smirk had long since melted into a genuine smile, now devolving further into an outright moan. The boy either knew his business or he adapted well. Both were traits she admired. Still, she could hardly let "sir" do the heavy lifting. She was the flight attendant, after all. Eyes lidded, hands moving to squeeze aroused nipples, pinching the tips, she pulled her foot from the kitten's grasp. "That'll do, cat." Licking her lips, she shifted slightly, both feet settling on either side of his fully risen shaft. "Just lay back and relax."

His shaft surging, extending to its full, porn-star-shamming length, Tobi mrowled when the husky caught his cock between her satiny pads. Hands tightened around his armrests as she began to move that sheer grip up and down his cock. By using his own dribbled pre-ejaculate, and the shimmery material, Purgy had no trouble upping the pace of her footjob, giving the feline an impatient, frantic lover. Up her feet went, till they squeezed wicked along the tip of his cock, then slamming back down in a sudden thrust, embracing the hilt of his shaft. She slid them back and forth, to simulate a grind, only to glide back up once more.

Purgatory pumped her partner's cock, delighted in every pulse and throb of his drooling shaft. Poor kitten was losing his mind against the chair, squirming and trying to lift his hips up to match her motion. But she always anticipated, slamming downward, clenching tightly, keeping her toy on the verge and never quite letting him go. She bit her right nipple, then the left, flicking her tongue as her soles rode his cock hard and deep. "Mmm, sir's cock is so nice and hot between my feet, and its gotten so thick. Would sir like to cum?"

"Ye...yes," Tobi gasped, hands moving to caress the feet that were milking the ever-loving hell out of his cock.

"Mm, I can feel it sir, swelling, pressing against them," Her soles paused in mid motion, her right foot turning till her toes were gripping the very tip of his cock. "So now I have to ask, is sir a good boy?"

"Oh y-ye... well, sir is a boy who tries his best, he reall-really," Tobi practically gurgled as Purgy's other foot slid off the side of his cock, then sunk under his balls, lightly rolling them along her toes. "Well, maybe not my lev-level best. But I'm a good sort, deep down. You know, way deep. Sorta."

Purgatory sighed wistfully, "Yeah, that's what Madam Hazel told me," pulling her legs back, dropping her breasts to bound achingly out of reach, then standing till she towered over like a Petrarchan idol, about to assume her pedestal. Her tail going this way and that, the grey-furred, blue-balling beauty shook her head, "she said you were a bad boy who let a new employee take some terrible liberties, and was due a thorough thrashing. Her words by the way; I would have just said my kitty fucked up and needs a spanking."

No, no! Nightmare! Pull up, pull u-wait... Hazel? "Y-you're really Purgatory Brezoianu, aren't you?" Tobi's eyes went wide, his stomach beginning to twist itself up into a knot, his cock so hard it felt like it might burst at the seams. "I'm not dreaming, Hazel hired you t-to punish me fo-for the one sin I did not even commit?"

The husky arched her back, bottom out, chest tumbling forward in a jiggle, "Yep, it's me hon. The only me there is to be," smirking, the tormenting titaness giggled, "And maybe you're innocent, though something tells me you're pretty much always guilty, even if she's got you wrong here." Her expression twisting into a playful tease, she tapped a crimson fingernail along her lips. "Now then, what was I supposed to do? Oh that's right, I had to make you so hard, that your dick was 'all a quiver.' Then, I'm supposed turn my back on 'that filthy little wanker.'" Purgy paused, thinking, "Wait, did she said wanker, or did I imagine that part? Well, it fits, regardless. You're going to be wanking an awful lot after this."

Tobi's lips worked, but no words formed. Eyes grew to saucers as one of his fondest fantasy fodders, slowly turned around, her arms laying over the edge of his cubicle, her breasts disappearing from sight. Gah, did she really have to jiggle and sway like that as spun?

Hazel, you heartless harpy! When I get back to London, oooh when I get back, I- I...I'm still going to be too busy furiously masturbating to do much of anything. The feline whimpered, trying to at least enjoy the show, particularly when God's own finest backside bounded into view. He squirmed as her left hand went up, and then came down with a sudden, furious crack across her left ass cheek. In his mind, it was the sound of Hazel's crop smacking smartly across his own.

Oh she got him, she got him good, "S-sorry Madam Hazel, I promise to be a better lad, all round. In as much as I can be, for as long as I'm willing." As he spoke the words, his fingers brushed his trembling cock head, causing a sudden spurt to erupt, arching high in the air and landing to sizzle and dribble as it rolled along Purgy's right ass cheek.

Her back to him, Purgatory giggled, before speaking into the device, cupped in her right hand. "Did you get that, hun?"

"Yes, I did. And given the stream of profanity I was expecting, I have to admit, I'm rather gratified. Good thing I thought to record this." Madam Hazel's sinful voice sounded surprisingly cheerful over Purgy's speaker phone. "And the reception is quite excellent up there."

"Well, that's Club Word for you, finest way to travel," Purgy grinned, "And now?"

"As agreed, he is all yours," Hazel replied, "However, do bring him back to us in one piece. He has some forms to sign relating to your freelancing for us."

"Can't make any promises, hun," Purgatory bit her bottom lip, shutting her phone off with a swipe of her thumb, then slipping it back into Candice's jacket.

"That's it then, right?" Tobi practically whined, "We've had our bit of fun, lessons were learned, growth achieved. All the meats gone, and its time for pudding, yes?"

The husky laughed, hands sliding around her sinful curves, slipping back and spreading her hefty ass, wide and welcoming. When she let go, her cheeks collided together in a familiar, wonderful clap. "Oh the meat better not be gone, hun. I haven't had my fill." Purgatory backed up sensually, letting everything sway this way, and then that. When she had straddled Tobi, she spread her bottom wide, once more. "Kitty wanna fuck Purgy's ass?"

"K-kitty wanna live in Purgy's ass," Tobi squirmed, resisting the urge to reach up, and squeeze, on the off chance this was just another trap for Number 6. At some point the bawdy 1970's comedy had become a late 60's psychedelic head screw. The only over-sized, white orbs the feline wanted were those attached to the husky above.

"MMm, I suppose I have the room," Winking, Purgatory reached between her legs, under her heavy balls, and steadied Tobi's shaft. The poor cock began to sputter, a slim, silvery dribble that slid down the tip. Poor boy, maybe they really had been too hard on him. Well, just so long as he stayed hard on her. Guiding his near purple head to just the right spot, she began to lower herself, feeling the fat cap slip past her resistance and flare within her tight rear with an awfully pleasurable, muffled pop.

Well if he was a number, he was a hell of a lot larger than six. His eyes followed the slow, steady drop of Purgy's incomparable, satin-clad bottom, swallowing his cock in a warm gulp. Every inch or so, she would pause, tighten around his pulse, lift up another couple of inches, and then start the drop once more. Tobi groaned, watching the little dimples form to either side of her cheeks, feeling his cock tugged, milked, and then she was gliding down again. Fucking hell, it was like her ass was lubed, slurping his shaft up inside, pausing only when a pulse or twitch set them slightly off alignment.

Finally, she settled into a glorious reverse cowgirl, grinding her bottom playfully about his lap, indulging inches that had arrived in the double digits. When her inner ring squeezed tightly around his hilt, Tobi thought he might explode, then and there. But no, he resisted, hands finally free to reach up, first squeezing the ass that ground against his front, then up and around, clutching her double Gees. He could just about reach her right nipple, and he did so as she ground, adjusting fully to his length, indulging in the throb and pulse it fitted inside of her.

Purgyatory gripped the edges of their shared cubicle, using the trembling walls for support as she rose up, perhaps half a foot, and then slammed back down, pressing her lover hard into his chair. Then up, and down once more, repeating the process with a gathering intensity. Sometimes, her anal grip was too much for Tobi, and she found herself lifting the pimp cat on the pull. That was fine, it only meant he would hit even deeper on the push. Clutched to her body as he was, her heavy rear devoured his cock in bite-sized portions, rather than the entire length at once.

The greedy kitty really was living inside her ass, and given her steady growls and guttural groans, she was well pleased with her new roommate. Then, taking note of the swelling within, the way even her accepting bottom was beginning to stretch in response, Purgy realized her roomie was about to blow. Reaching up, she pulled Tobi's hands away from her well-fondled breasts, guiding his fingers back to his armrests. Then rolling her hips forward, she reclaimed her grip along the walls and tensed her thighs.

Up she went, tugging the edges of Tobi's cock as she rose. Up, reversing the slow plunge from before, her calves burning a bit from the exertion. Up, till her tight rim could only cling to the edges of his glans. Her tongue slid out from between her lips, she took a deep breath, and then down she came in a rush. There was nothing slow about her fall, nothing to cushion the weight, beyond the natural plump of her backside. She hit Tobi's pelvis with her full gravity, her balls slapping against his own. Before he could gasp, groan, or even fully digest the pleasures and pains of her motion, she was up again, and then down once more. What had been a humid clop, clop, clop, became a thundering slap, slap, slap of hips and thighs colliding, of a cock being devoured in its entirety, over and over again.

"Give it to me," Purgy growled the moment their bodies collided, "Give it me," she said again, pulling away and then slamming back down, "All of it, hun, give it all to-"

The husky cut off as Tobi suddenly rose, hands having taking possession of her hips, his legs rocketing him upward and deep, sunk fully into her ravenous backdoor. His cock surged, rocketed almost, as it slung hot cat semen deep within his lover's bowels. After all that tease, he had built up quite a backlog, and now everything the feline had was being shot inside of Purgy's trembling ass. Were she not seven foot, two inches of Amazonian fucktress, it would have likely overwhelmed her capacity, and begun to leak out around the edges of his cock and her rim. Being who and what she was, it simply settled inside, burbling within the beauty. Her tongue lolled out, a dog whose heat had been well filled.

Tobi fell back onto his chair, for once, utterly spent in a single eruption. "S'not like me, you know," he groaned, "Usually go on for... hours." His cock was in that blissful state, somewhere between hard and soft, just a turgid length that pulsed as it fed pleasure to its owner. "Just need a lil cat nap, s'all. Then I shall nail you, right through th-the wall."

Eying the feline over her shoulder with a warm, affectionate smile, Purgy reached into her other jacket pocket, pulling out a small bottle of clear liquid, and spilling a bit into her palm, letting it warm. "Absolutely hun, and I'm sure Hazel won't mind if you come in to work a little late, say two or three days? We've got a nice, long weekend ahead of us." As she spoke, her free hand hit the button that would reverse Tobi's chair from its current, upright position, and back into a bed. Her other hand began to spread the glistening, translucent gel along her shaft. It extended, hard and heated, from between her thighs, bent right around the middle from its own weight.

"Now then, I seem to recall you had wanted your pillows fluffed, wasn't that right, sir?" Purgatory took a few steps forward, then turned, leaning down in such a way that her heavy breast tumbled into the foreground, obscuring the cock that waited impatiently below. "Will these do?"

Tobi's lidded, bedroom eyes focused on the swaying orbs before him, reaching out and hefting one with his right hand, thumb brushing along the nipple, "Why yes, Missus Attendant, I think they'll do quite nicely." He groaned happily as the towering husky settled down on top of his body, savoring the warmth of her weight, though fully eclipsed by her size. "S-sorry, guess the beds were not made with sex goddesses in mind."

Purgatory only smiled, leaning up a bit, letting Tobi's words become muffled as he was lost in a sea of double Gees. She ground her breasts against his cute little features for a bit, swaying them back and forth, moaning softly when his lips caught the side, or found an easy nipple to give a hard suckle, then pulling back to let him breath. That's it hon, she thought, keep focused on the tits. It'll make things easier for you, I promise.

"Did you shay shumthig?" Tobi mumbled, lips occupied with enough milky jugs to supply a dozen nurseries. One hand slipped to stroke one nipple, while his mouth busied itself tugging on the other, loving just how thick they were. The plump, erect honey suckles were thicker than some cocks he had seen, though stubbier than most. Most. They were a delight to suck on, filling his mouth and giving his tongue something sweet to flick and tease. He had to press up now and again, to keep from smothering, but that was more a joy than an inconvenience.

And she wanted to give him how many days of this?

Apparently there was a shelf above the top, and somehow, someway, he had found himself on it. Now this was the right rack for a hard working feline. The only thing that bothered him was her knee. It kept bumping up, between his legs. It was playful at first, but becoming steadily more insistent. "Shweety, I don't think you can get any more on the...bed." Huh, it was awfully warm to be a knee. It had exactly the wrong kind of softness, followed by a curious sort of hardness. When it bumped again, this time scoring a direct hit against his back door.

W-ait, why was her knee all wet, and sticky, and.... "It won't fit!"

"Mmm, I get that a lot, hun," Purgatory chuckled, "But I brought my best lube, just for the occasion." Now that she had dialed in the target, the rest was just a matter of push and pull, sliding and gliding. There, she felt his rim begin to lose the fight to resist her cock, stretching around her too-thick cap. "It opens all sorts of doors," she began to rock her hips, every rock forward, a bit more of her inside. "For instance, the back doors of the security personal who told me I couldn't take it on the plane with me." A bit more, she felt his muscles weakening, the playful struggle left to her lover, beginning to subside. "And your ass is so much nicer, and softer than theirs."

Tobi blinked when the the glans around Purgy's tip spread out within his anal ring. The lubricant had a strangely cooling, numbing effect, turning what should have been a fire into an encouraging warmth. The feline had taken horse cocks that displaced less of his inner workings, but it was hard to deny the near feminine shiver that ran through his system, arcing through his spine. His legs instinctively went up, wrapping around his lover, and he tried to distract himself by running lips and tongue from one thick nip to the other.

Purgy opted for short strokes, "Mmm, you're doing wonderfully," pulling back and sinking forward more inches, rearranging what could not be stretched. "You feel so tight, and warm," In she thrust, throbbing hot and hard within a backside that trembled all around her, squeezing around from every side, saved only by abundant lubrication. "Bet you can taste my cock in the back of your throat," she joked, but only just, slamming yet more of herself within her lover, "Not really that much bigger than... Nnnf, Hazel, am I?" Sinking her cock forward, making her way through his tunnel until, "Almost there; you ready?"

The stuffed feline never got to say whether he was or not. Suddenly, he was filled, her thighs flush with his bottom, her balls slapping hotly against his rear. All he could do was groan, glad her breasts blocked the majority of his view. He just knew that if he reached down, he would feel the bulge her cock was making of his stomach. Opening his mouth to reply, too late to say much of importance, all that came out was a whimpering gurgle.

"You say the sweetest things," Purgy cooed, "You'll get used to it, hun, sooner than you think." Nuzzling at the top of his head, trusting the miracle lubricant to do its job, she pulled back. Mmm, that tug! His inner muscles reluctantly gave up on trying to squeeze her cock to death, freeing enough of her to suddenly thrust forward. It was murder by inches, but as she sawed her way through a rectal tunnel, unmade by her girth, she began to pick up speed. Soon, she was pulling out, and slamming in, over a foot of cock. His toes curled, his eyes shut, his lips whispering prayers into her weighty breasts.

After several long, gasping, groaning, writhing moments, it seemed those prayers were answered. He felt himself slowly acclimating to her cock.

Minutes had past, ten if not twenty, and she was still sinking slickly within, rubbing awfully hard against his prostrate, sending all sorts of mixed signals through his system. It certainly wasn't the first cock his butt had tried to choke down, and maybe he had longer, or possibly thicker. It was just the combination that had his body reeling, his cheeks burning. He just knew his white butt was going to be purple by the end of this, but dammit all, it was starting to feel awfully good when she was fully inside of him, a great fit of a throb that pressed hard along his stomach. In fact, when she pulled out, he found his body missing her mass, like a part of him had be taken away, and his empty, gaping tunnel groaned for the lack of her.

This was how one got addicted to cock. Well, this was how one got addicted to Purgatory cock, at any rate.

Slap, slap, slap, muffled by their closeness, yet still managing to echo through-out the cabin, the pair began to approach something mutual, something sacred. Purgatory's tongue lapped at her lover's ears, matting his black and crimson hair against his face, "A-any second now, any moment, are you ready? Y-you're not, are you? You can't be, can you? S-such a shame, ca-cause here it nnNnf... it all.. comes!"

Tobi buried his face in breasts, muffling his howl as he felt an explosion inside of his bowels. Purgy's cock lurched, taking what little space it had not already seized. Her tip plumped, spread along the slit, and belched great gobs of molten goo directly into his body. His stomach rolled. His cock spurted a spattering in response, coating the bottom of his lover's curves. He felt his tummy tingle and tighten, and where his load had been safely contained, hers began to trickle, and bubble, out his edges and down the feline's thighs.

Purgatory kept her full attention on this particular release, having no where else to be, adoring the insides of her latest cock sleeve. She allowed herself to melt, to quiver in orgasmic delight: eyes up, tongue out, her entire body tensing into a fist, then slowly relaxing. "Ohh yes, oh my, y-you and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

The feline gasped, legs falling from her hips, parting her breasts to either side so he could look up at the force of nature that had nearly swept him away. "Fine," he moaned, sweetly, "just keep that lube handy." "Mmm, hun? By the timMme you and I leave my hotel room, you won't need it."

***

Five hours after the flight had arrived in London, Candice was called into a sterile white office to be yelled at by a man in a crisp uniform, informing her that her services were no longer required. Five days later, she was called back to same office, where the same man, who seemed to have trouble sitting down, apologized for his rash behavior, noting that one of their passengers had given her such a glowing review, she simply must return, with a raise. Five months later, she had her wedding dress altered due to the new life making room for itself in her womb. Twenty years on down the road, a beautifully effeminate, white-furred, oddly statuesque badger boy would apply at Tobi's club for a position as a dancer.

He choose Candy for his stage name. His mother was not well pleased.

The End.