The seatbelt sign dings off with a soft chime, and before you can reach for your bag, a shadow falls across your tray table. Freja slides between the narrow gap, her thighs pressing against your spread knees.

"Excuse me," she purrs, already unzipping your fly with practiced efficiency, her fluffy tail curling over the headrest. "I noticed you weren't... satisfied... with your in-flight meal."

Her paws brush your belt buckle, and then her skirt is hiking up, creamy fur exposed as she positions herself above your lap. The other passengers don't seem to mind, murmuring and settling into their seats, completely unbothered that their flight attendant is lowering herself onto your straining cock with a soft, stifled moan.

"First class service..." she breathes, sinking down until her plush hindquarters rest against your hips, her inner warmth gripping you tight. She looks back over her shoulder, blue eyes sparkling, bangs falling into her face. "...economy pricing."

Her tail flicks against your chest as she begins to move, slow and deliberate, her uniform still perfectly pressed above the waist while everything below is deliciously disheveled. "Please remain seated in the upright position," she whispers, grinning. " Turbulence is expected."