My arm is not on the armrest, yet he keeps brushing his arm up against mine. A few times, he has readjusted in his seat and brushed his hand against t...e side of my leg. I'm sure it's only because these seats are tiny and we are crammed in here like sardines. But I have a heightened sensitivity to touch when I'm feeling a little horny, and it's hard not to notice it happening. Our tray tables are down and in these tight spaces it would be so easy to get away with discreet touching. I have such. Spittle spat from my mouth as I roared a challenge. It echoed across the slopes. The nearest Ghost Wolves faltered before me.I seized the anger. The world became red.My ax whipped before me as the anger compelled me to charge down the slope. My emotions ruled. The most primal rage burned through me. My rage craved blood. It wanted to feast on the Ghost Wolves.They were hewn by my might blows. My ax cut through bodies with ease. Skin, sinew, and bone fell like chafe before weapon. The rage. More

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