Riley boarded the red-eye flight from Eden Bay to New York at 11:45 PM, exhausted but buzzing with nervous energy. The 24-year-old marketing coordinator had been upgraded to business class at the last minute — a rare treat. She wore a short black skirt, tight white blouse, and no b*a, her perky n*****s faintly visible through the thin fabric. Underneath, she had on a tiny black thong that was already slightly damp from the thrill of flying alone at night.
She found her seat in the last row of business class — window seat. The cabin was dimly lit, most passengers already settling in for the long overnight flight. The seat next to her was empty.
Until a tall, handsome man in his early 30s slid into it just before takeoff.
He was sharply dressed in a dark button-down and slacks, with a con
