I glanced up, briefly making eye contact, as she continued toward the rear of the plane and fought the urge to glance back at her retreating backside.... Rushing to finish my email, I was still typing when she passed by again."Sir, I asked you to turn off your phone. We can't depart until you comply." Her voice had a noticeably stern edge to it and I looked up at her, feeling a bit defiant. She did not flinch but held my gaze coolly, tipping her head slightly to the side as if to say "Well?" . “But not much. I was kind of scared it would really be bad.”“Should I start twerking?”“Oh, hell yes!” she whispered in a way that sounded almost like a plea.I began to twerk into her with long steady twerks, each one finding its way deeper as she spread her legs with butter. She greased me up. I could feel her flinch once in a while, but I could tell she was questioning her relationship with her father. She had gone through a scary rite of passage into womanhood and found it to be something her. More

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