him.
“Come here,” he commands, tugging. I don't fight him, briefly standing then plunking down onto his lap. One of his arms loop around my waist. His other hand palms my cheek. “I know one way to make this flight easier. Distraction. Works every time...” He uses the slightest pressure to bring my head down, my mouth to his.
Ohhhhh, what a mouth it is.
Soft.
Gentle.
His tongue traces the seam of my mouth and I part my lips. He tastes scrumptious. Like champagne. Expensive champagne. His tongue caresses mine and a ripple of heat spreads through me. My head starts spinning as the kiss deepens. More heat throbs. Nerves tingle. Muscles tighten.
The hand that had been holding my cheek moves higher, strong fingers tangling in my hair. He curls them, fisting the smooth strands, tugging every so slightly.
Thrilled by the subtle show of dominance, I gasp.
He breaks the kiss, pulls my head to the side and tickles the length of my neck with his tongue. “You're so beautiful,” he murmurs, nipping me after each word. Goose bumps burn my chest, my arm, my shoulder.
Quivering, I close my eyes and let him guide me. That mouth and tongue explore the swell of my breasts. My nipples harden. And thoughts about flying, and planes, and falling...
Poof! Gone.
I'm swamped with need.
Throbbing need.
Aching need.
Burning, overwhelming need.
Need much, much stronger than anything I ever felt before.
The hand at my waist is on the move now too. It glides over my hip, around to my lower stomach. Down over my skirt...
And up my thigh...
I whimper.
While licking and biting the parts of my breasts that are exposed, his hand cups my mound through my panties and presses.
I know I shouldn't be doing this but oh, God, the pressure feels good against my throbbing center. I want to spread my legs but I can't. My skirt restricts my movement. My stomach clenches. So does my empty, burning insides.
I've never had sex. I've never had anything inside me. But that's what my body needs.
My pussy quivers and I writhe.
Something big and hard pokes my bottom. I know what that big, hard thing is. It's his cock. And it's hard.
For me.
Just like I'm wet for him. Very wet.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders, and he pulls my top up, bunching it under my chin. A fingertip traces over one of my hard nipples and little sharp blades of need pierce me.
“You are so fucking responsive,” he growls, scooping a breast out of my bra and thumbing my nipple.
Holy crap! My nipple has never been so freaking sensitive before. It's as if there's a nerve connecting it straight to my pussy. My spine tightens, arching.
How can I help being responsive when he does things like this? I'm dying. I swear. It's wrong and probably stupid of me, but he has to touch me down there . He has to.
I try to say something but all that comes out of my mouth is a strangled mewling sound.
He hooks a finger in the crotch of my panties and jerks. The fabric tears away, leaving me bare. A fingertip presses against my clit and I almost die from the pleasure. He flicks that finger, sending blades of heat shooting through my body. Up and down. To my center.
My empty center.
His fingertip moves lower, tracing the seam of my nether lips and I try to spread my thighs. They won't open. Frantic, I claw at my skirt but it won't move. My weight is holding it in place.
“Easy, baby.” Steadying me at the waist, he lifts, helping me stand. I yank my skirt up, turn and, legs straddling his hips, sit on his thighs, facing him. “Oh, yes. That's better.”
It is. Because now that hard ridge is right there , where I can grind against it. But within seconds, that's not enough. I'm so wet the fabric of his pants feels cold against my burning girl parts.
He gathers my hair in his fist again and pulls my mouth to his. His tongue ravages my mouth while I rock my hips forward and back like a hussy. The friction, combined with the wicked things he's doing to my mouth, makes my body
“Come here,” he commands, tugging. I don't fight him, briefly standing then plunking down onto his lap. One of his arms loop around my waist. His other hand palms my cheek. “I know one way to make this flight easier. Distraction. Works every time...” He uses the slightest pressure to bring my head down, my mouth to his.
Ohhhhh, what a mouth it is.
Soft.
Gentle.
His tongue traces the seam of my mouth and I part my lips. He tastes scrumptious. Like champagne. Expensive champagne. His tongue caresses mine and a ripple of heat spreads through me. My head starts spinning as the kiss deepens. More heat throbs. Nerves tingle. Muscles tighten.
The hand that had been holding my cheek moves higher, strong fingers tangling in my hair. He curls them, fisting the smooth strands, tugging every so slightly.
Thrilled by the subtle show of dominance, I gasp.
He breaks the kiss, pulls my head to the side and tickles the length of my neck with his tongue. “You're so beautiful,” he murmurs, nipping me after each word. Goose bumps burn my chest, my arm, my shoulder.
Quivering, I close my eyes and let him guide me. That mouth and tongue explore the swell of my breasts. My nipples harden. And thoughts about flying, and planes, and falling...
Poof! Gone.
I'm swamped with need.
Throbbing need.
Aching need.
Burning, overwhelming need.
Need much, much stronger than anything I ever felt before.
The hand at my waist is on the move now too. It glides over my hip, around to my lower stomach. Down over my skirt...
And up my thigh...
I whimper.
While licking and biting the parts of my breasts that are exposed, his hand cups my mound through my panties and presses.
I know I shouldn't be doing this but oh, God, the pressure feels good against my throbbing center. I want to spread my legs but I can't. My skirt restricts my movement. My stomach clenches. So does my empty, burning insides.
I've never had sex. I've never had anything inside me. But that's what my body needs.
My pussy quivers and I writhe.
Something big and hard pokes my bottom. I know what that big, hard thing is. It's his cock. And it's hard.
For me.
Just like I'm wet for him. Very wet.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders, and he pulls my top up, bunching it under my chin. A fingertip traces over one of my hard nipples and little sharp blades of need pierce me.
“You are so fucking responsive,” he growls, scooping a breast out of my bra and thumbing my nipple.
Holy crap! My nipple has never been so freaking sensitive before. It's as if there's a nerve connecting it straight to my pussy. My spine tightens, arching.
How can I help being responsive when he does things like this? I'm dying. I swear. It's wrong and probably stupid of me, but he has to touch me down there . He has to.
I try to say something but all that comes out of my mouth is a strangled mewling sound.
He hooks a finger in the crotch of my panties and jerks. The fabric tears away, leaving me bare. A fingertip presses against my clit and I almost die from the pleasure. He flicks that finger, sending blades of heat shooting through my body. Up and down. To my center.
My empty center.
His fingertip moves lower, tracing the seam of my nether lips and I try to spread my thighs. They won't open. Frantic, I claw at my skirt but it won't move. My weight is holding it in place.
“Easy, baby.” Steadying me at the waist, he lifts, helping me stand. I yank my skirt up, turn and, legs straddling his hips, sit on his thighs, facing him. “Oh, yes. That's better.”
It is. Because now that hard ridge is right there , where I can grind against it. But within seconds, that's not enough. I'm so wet the fabric of his pants feels cold against my burning girl parts.
He gathers my hair in his fist again and pulls my mouth to his. His tongue ravages my mouth while I rock my hips forward and back like a hussy. The friction, combined with the wicked things he's doing to my mouth, makes my body
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