Page 34 of Changed Plan

I’ll keep my hands where she’s asked, but remaining completely still is not an option. My hips thrust to fuck her mouth, and she bobs her head faster. I have to fist my own hair to keep from lowering my hands.

My balls tighten in her hand, and my hips jerk as my dick spasms. She doesn’t pull off, and when I explode in her mouth, she swallows every drop.

And then she looks up at me with angel eyes over a wicked smile. “Just so you know, I never did that in a theater.”

“Shit, me either. Bring that pretty pussy up here and drown me.”

She’s soaked, and I love knowing she got this wet while pleasuring me.

I grab hold of her hips and pull her down farther onto my face. She holds onto the headboard, and I go for broke, slipping two fingers inside her within minutes because my dick’s already hard again, and the sooner she comes, the sooner I can sink it inside this tight, juicy cunt.

After she squirts on my face exactly as I intended, she dismounts, turns around, and crawls to the middle of the bed, staying on her hands and knees for me. I can’t join her fast enough.

The throbbing of my dick intensifies as I line it up at her slippery entrance. I push inside, and she whimpers softly. My moan is not nearly so quiet.

13

Darby

Until the Credits Roll

Heslamsintomelike this is our last night on earth, making damn sure I won’t be able to forget him. I think that’s literally the point he’s attempting to drive home, but I’m just trying to stay on the bed.

I knew he’d take a while after that blowjob—not to be too self-congratulatory, though it was undoubtedly one of my better efforts— but he’s got more stamina than I was counting on.

I’m starting to sting a little. My shoulders burn, too. I tilt my head back and try to stretch them. He immediately wraps my hair in his fist and pulls to keep my head where it’s at.

That’s not what I had in mind when I tipped my head, but if pulling my hair helps him, I’m good with it.

And it definitely helps. His rhythmic thrusts become erratic. I yelp when he jabs at a bad angle, and he corrects his position without breaking stride. Talented fucker. Literally.

I rock back to meet his next few strokes, and his grip on my hair tightens. Right when I think I can’t take anymore, and I’m about to complain, he grunts several times, and then his breath hitches to a faster tempo and becomes audible, accented with gravelly groans.

My head drops forward as soon as his hand sets my hair free. It’s all I can do not to mutter, “thank God.”

Not that I didn’t enjoy it, but I had enjoyed about as much as I could take. Once again, he shatters the ceiling of my expectations. I’ve got to stop mentally imposing limits on him. It’s like he psychically picks up on them and goes to the wall to prove me wrong.

When I come back from the bathroom, he’s flipped his drenched pillow over and is sitting against it in the bed, eating a sandwich. I slide in next to him and ask for a bite.

“I got you one, too.”

“I don’t want a whole one. I just want a bite of yours.”

We share the rest of his sandwich while we watch the movie he’s restarted. The humor is slapstick, which I don’t usually find funny, but it makes me laugh tonight. I don’t know if it’s because I’m tired or just too happy to disregard anything comedic.

He finds it genuinely funny. And that makes me laugh, too.

When the movie ends, we slide down, and I lie next to him with my head on his chest, letting his heartbeat lull me to sleep.

14

Zane

Something in the Breeze

Kissinghergoodbyeinthe room was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Not the kissing part, obviously, but the leaving that followed. The battle between wanting to go and wanting to stay was physically painful.

But I’m definitely going. My boarding group was just called. I line up with the rest of the fatigued passengers.

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