"Dance."

"That's pretty solid to begin with. You might want to take some acting courses. Hustle up a few auditions. And then work up a video screen test to send around."

"You think so?"

"Only one way to find out what your potential is. Get out there and go for it!"

"Can we go for another round? Or have we reached our limit-on drinks for this flight?"

"They don't give a shit on these overnight flights. Even though they're supposed to give out only two drinks per passenger."

"Make them doubles."

"Coming right up."

Slash hustled his hardbod down the aisle. Noreen felt the heat rise from her twat through her asshole, clit, and tits to her neck. The fervor gripped the back of her brain.

She was hungry.

For flesh.

Slash's flesh.

Couldn't stand being alone-away from him for even an instant.

Where was he now?

What did you have to do for a couple of drinks around here, anyway?

Noreen craned her neck about and peered toward the back of the plane. She saw Slash talking animatedly to someone who was out of sight, in the galley next to the rear-cabin restrooms.

"I am sorry, sir," the flight bitch was saying. "We are limited to serving two drinks-"

"Okay, Desiree," Slash said, reading from the nameplate pinned to her left knocker. "I do understand. But we spilled our other drinks. It was a slight mishap when the plane jiggled."

Her eyes widened.

Then narrowed.

"Listen, stud. If you want to get that chickie you decided to try to hit on lushed up, and then bone her right there in the seat-it's none of my business. Don't care either way."

"But I never-"

"There's something I gotta tell you up front-no jive. I'd be risking my butt if I gave you one more drop of alcohol."

"What if I stole it? But actually left the money-maybe on the counter."