Many flights. Many cities. Endless passion.
She’s not chasing love — she’s writing her sensual story.
A novel for adults only — 18+
"Between Flights"
Erotic novel where desire knows no limits.
Camilla isn’t just a flight attendant — she’s a fearless explorer of her own pleasure. From city to city, she dives into secret encounters, roleplay, and bold experiments where the only rule is to break them all.
Explicit content. Power games. Submission and control.
This book is not for the faint of heart.
If you’re looking for sweet romance and candlelit kisses — look away.
There are no flowers here. No rain-soaked embraces.
Only raw, unfiltered passion.
No censorship. No apologies. Just the truth of the body.
This is not a love story.
This is a story about sex — wild, dominant, impulsive.
For readers who aren't afraid to want.
Contains strong language.
Strictly 18+.
Erotic novel where desire knows no limits.
Camilla isn’t just a flight attendant — she’s a fearless explorer of her own pleasure. From city to city, she dives into secret encounters, roleplay, and bold experiments where the only rule is to break them all.
Explicit content. Power games. Submission and control.
This book is not for the faint of heart.
If you’re looking for sweet romance and candlelit kisses — look away.
There are no flowers here. No rain-soaked embraces.
Only raw, unfiltered passion.
No censorship. No apologies. Just the truth of the body.
This is not a love story.
This is a story about sex — wild, dominant, impulsive.
For readers who aren't afraid to want.
Contains strong language.
Strictly 18+.
What Awaits You in This Book
-
A Woman Who Plays by Her Own RulesShe doesn’t ask. She doesn’t explain.
Each chapter is her decision — bold, unapologetic, and raw. - Flights That Change More Than DestinationsFrom city to city, she explores new roles, new desires, and new parts of herself.
- Raw Sensuality. No Apologies.She doesn’t hold back.
Pleasure here is not polished — it’s real, intense, and sometimes dirty.But always hers. - Men Who Thought They Could Handle HerSome wanted to possess her.
Only one wanted to stay without control. - Moments You’ll See Yourself InThese aren’t fantasies.
They’re memories you didn’t dare speak aloud. - A Woman Who Plays by Her Own RulesShe doesn’t ask. She doesn’t explain.
Each chapter is her decision — bold, unapologetic, and raw.
Chapter 1 – Mid-Takeoff
Camila never drafted conquests; they flared like camera flashes—one glance, a sentence, the tilt of a cigarette, the shape of a wrist. Names were irrelevant; sensation was the currency.
She scrolled to the current itinerary. Istanbul. Empty.
A virgin dot teased her fingertip. Untouched, unscented, nobody’s claim. Like the first page of a journal you almost hate to soil—almost.
Who will you be tonight, Istanbul? she wondered. Tender? Savage? Drunk? A surprise?
And more pressing: Who will I be?
Camila’s body knew how to perform: blouse buttoned just enough, legs crossing at the right angle, a glance that lingered half a second longer than polite. But performance wasn’t the point anymore. Not entirely. Each new city on her map wasn’t just a location—it was a test of identity, a private act of rebellion.
She scrolled to the current itinerary. Istanbul. Empty.
A virgin dot teased her fingertip. Untouched, unscented, nobody’s claim. Like the first page of a journal you almost hate to soil—almost.
Who will you be tonight, Istanbul? she wondered. Tender? Savage? Drunk? A surprise?
And more pressing: Who will I be?
Camila’s body knew how to perform: blouse buttoned just enough, legs crossing at the right angle, a glance that lingered half a second longer than polite. But performance wasn’t the point anymore. Not entirely. Each new city on her map wasn’t just a location—it was a test of identity, a private act of rebellion.
Sex had become her language. Her confession. Her control.
That night, she didn’t wear lingerie. She wore silence. The kind that dares a man to ask for more.
She opened her notebook. Not digital. Paper. Heavy with memory. Ink bled on the page like sweat.
New flight. New me. No script. No target. Just want. Just movement. Just breath.
She closed it. Straightened her badge. And whispered to her reflection:
“I’m not flying away from someone. I’m flying toward myself.”
That night, she didn’t wear lingerie. She wore silence. The kind that dares a man to ask for more.
She opened her notebook. Not digital. Paper. Heavy with memory. Ink bled on the page like sweat.
New flight. New me. No script. No target. Just want. Just movement. Just breath.
She closed it. Straightened her badge. And whispered to her reflection:
“I’m not flying away from someone. I’m flying toward myself.”
© Milena Blar. All rights reserved.
This site contains adult content (18+).
This site contains adult content (18+).
