Page 17 of Come Fly with Me

Sliding a hand beneath the sheet, I circle my fingers around my hard cock, giving it a gentle tug as my mind replays the image of Taylor in her bikini, leaning back as she washed the saltwater off her body under the shower at the beach.

Groaning, I close my eyes as I slowly start to work my grip up and down my shaft, trying to imagine it’s Taylor’s hand, or better yet, her mouth. God, just watching her yesterday, her body covered in nothing more than a few scraps of fabric, her skin wet and glistening in the sun.

“Fuck,” I moan, tugging a little harder.

I’d already been so wound up from the surfing. When she blew me off after we came back to the hotel, I figured a hard run and then a session in the shower with some soap and my hand was definitely on the cards.

But fuck me if that hadn’t all been blown to shit when I walked into the gym and saw her beautifully tight arse pounding away on the treadmill.

I up the tempo with my hand, gripping my cock a little harder as my breathing starts to get more ragged, my mind now picturing her here, straddling me as she sits on my cock and rides me until…

The ring of the phone cuts through the room.

I freeze as though I’ve been busted doing something I shouldn’t be doing. But when I open my eyes, I chuckle, realizing I’m unfortunately still alone. I contemplate answering, but then the ringing abruptly stops.

Closing my eyes again, I go back to jerking off to memories of yesterday, this time of Taylor pulling off her tank top in the gym and running full pelt on the treadmill, her beautiful tits bouncing up and down in that tiny sports bra.

I feel my balls tighten as my cock gets even harder, my thumb circling over the head before moving down the shaft to…

The phone rings out again and I let out a loud curse, my eyes flying open as I reach for the receiver. “What?”

A laugh falls through the phone, sending a shiver straight down my spine to my cock, which instantly gets harder.

“Not a morning person?”

I smile, stroking my shaft again as I say, “Depends on who I’m waking up to.”

“Hmmm,” Taylor says. “Do I take your frustrated greeting to mean you’re waking up alone this morning?”

I chuckle. “I am,” I confirm. “Although we can always change that,” I add, hand still curled around my cock and stroking slowly. “I’m still in bed, but…”

I hear her exhale down the phone, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s picturing me in bed right now, wondering what I’m wearing – nothing, Taylor, or doing - stroking my cock and wishing you were here, Taylor.

“You’re welcome to come join me,” I add, my voice low. Taylor says nothing, the sound of her breathing the only response I get. “What are you doing?” I murmur.

“I’m…” she stops, clears her throat. “I’m wondering where to meet you this morning.”

A grin tugs at my mouth. “Like I said, you can come to my room,” I suggest as I continue to stroke myself, ignoring the thought that this is kind of pervy given she has no idea what I’m doing right now as I talk to her.

She lets out another deep breath, as though she’s contemplating my suggestion. “Maybe that would be a bad idea,” she eventually says, her words low and breathy and sexy as hell.

“Maybe?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “Maybe.”

I groan into the phone, half in frustration, half because the sound of her voice in my ear as I stroke my cock is a huge fucking turn on. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll meet you out front of the hotel.”

“Okay.”

“And Taylor?” I add, smiling. “You should know I sleep naked,” I murmur. “And right now, I’m really, really…”

I trail off, not finishing my sentence as I hang up the phone before she can say anything, closing my eyes as I take myself back to the beach yesterday, moving my hand up and down my cock until I finish what I started.

I get downstairs before Taylor does and grab us two coffees from the barista in the hotel café while I wait. When she finally comes down, I actually feel my heart skip a beat at the sight of her. She’s dressed in tiny black shorts and a red tank top, a pair of sunglasses on her head and her long blond hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

“Morning,” she says, smiling shyly.

“Morning,” I say, grinning as I hand her a coffee. “Sleep well?”

---