”The flight back to London was packed and very busy. Christine had no time to relax but still managed to flirt with Peter and Simon the co-pilot. Saying she was a flirt was a massive underestimation.She loved to show off her 38D breasts and would always make a point of leaning over the crew and passengers. The thought of people staring at her always made her a bit damp and if the flight was quiet she would often nip into the loo, pull out her Lelo and get off. The thought of people being just feet away always made her come hard.On landing she carried out her duties on the plane and made her way to lost property with the iPhone nestling in her red jacket pocket. She told the rather dour woman, called Sharon, all the details.“Oh yes,” replied Sharon over her glasses. “I wondered when this was going to arrive back. She’s been on the phone virtually every day asking for it. She lives in some big house in Buckinghamshire and sounded a bit desperate to me.”“Oh dear, I am so sorry. We had to. "Writhing in that can, trapped for everyone to see while Robyn ground herpretty ass into my feminine face, felt like the absolute bottom point ofmy life.And two hours later, we were rescued.Robyn and I were still inside the plastic drum. Only now we were in theback of Bitchin' Heat's gold van, on our way from the Club back to theGrandamme estate, when I heard (I could see nothing because of Robyn'sbottom) Grace say,"Looks like an accident up ahead!" Oh dear," Edie cried, "that girl is hurt! I'd better stop!" I think she's pinned under that van," Olivia put in. "We'd better getout and help push."I heard the four front doors of the van open and close as the girlsrushed to the aid of what they thought was a stricken motorist. Then,very faintly, I heard cries of alarm and dismay. Orders being barked ina strong feminine voice quite unlike any of the rock singers. Finally,after a suspenseful spent rolled up naked in that plastic drum with theequally nude Robyn, I heard someone climb into.
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