Page 20 of A Fine Line

“I was checking to make sure you’re okay. You seemed rather annoyed with whatever Darius was laughing about.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “That is the most bullshit thing I’ve ever heard, but that’s a good one. Now, give me the truth.”

“Antoinette dared me to come in here and blow you.”

My cock immediately hardens in my pants. My brain wants to tell her no fucking thanks, but my body does not give a single fuck about propriety, ethics, or a good manner. I reach my hand out, wrapping her ponytail around it a couple of times so I’m holding onto her tightly, then I ask, “And you’re not bothered by the fact they’re gonna know what you’re doing?”

She pauses for a moment, obviously considering my question, and then says almost in awe, “Shockingly, not at all. It’s actually quite freeing to be able to make the choice. It’s been a long time since that was in the cards.”

I frown, my hand tightening in her hair at the implication of her words. “Are you saying this isn’t your first time in a plane lavatory?”

She shrugs and shakes her head at the same time. “It doesn’t matter. I’m only concerned about this time.”

I release my grip on her hair, straightening as she steps closer to me. I turn so my back is against the door, and she sits on the toilet lid, waiting for me to close the short distance between us. “You want to lead or follow?” I ask clearly, wanting her to make as many choices as she can since she brought up the topic.

She tilts her head to the side, then replies, “Lead. To start anyway.”

I sidle closer, and her hands grasp my hips and pull me closer in the cramped space. I brace one hand on the wall to my left and the other above my head as she goes right for my belt and then the button and zipper of my jeans. She yanks the material to the side and pauses, her lips curving up slightly as she sees I’m not commando this time. She giggles, her eyes raising to meet mine as she asks breathlessly, “Whatever are you wearing, Tony?”

I barely manage to suppress my own laughter as I give a nonchalant shrug, as if it’s no big deal. “Do you like it?”

She giggles again, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and an uncomfortable warmth blooms in my chest. Then she says, “I’m genuinely surprised. I’m not sure if I should feel offended that you did this with the assumption that I would be seeing them or flattered you thought of me when you decided to wear them on the plane.”

She pushes my jeans and outrageously colorful boxer briefs down my hips, and I hiss out a breath as her hand grips my cock firmly. “Definitely the latter,” I whisper, my eyes closing as she strokes me.

She pauses in her stroking, and I peek one eye open to find her staring up at me, wide-eyed, likely startled by my admission. She’s not nearly as surprised as I am, and my breath catches a bit as she whispers, “You really thought of me? When putting on your underwear?”

I don’t respond with words, only nodding briefly and then saying, “Quit stalling. You’re supposed to suck my dick.”

She ducks her head, her tongue rolling over the tip a few times before she sucks me into her mouth, and my head falls back on a groan. It’s everything I can do not to grab her by her head and throat-fuck her, but I told her she could take the lead, and I won’t go back on my promise.

I let her suck me off for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of her tongue, lips, and hand on my cock before I reach down and grab onto the hand that she has resting on her thigh. She pulls back a little, her eyes questioning as I move her free hand to my hip and say, “It’ll be impossible for you to talk with your mouth full of my cock, so if you need me to stop for any reason, pinch me right here as hard as you can, do you understand?”

She nods, so I continue, “Give me the words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I understand,” she says. “Now, stop trying to butter me up and fuck my mouth already.”

I growl deep in my chest, my hand releasing hers and delving into her hair. I tighten my grip, pulling her head back until her eyes meet mine, and her mouth falls open, her lips glistening with saliva, and I ask, “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck your face like you’re my little whore? You want me to show you how to please me?”

She nods in my grip and whispers, “Yes. That’s what I want. Please.”

“Fuck,” I groan, my other hand moving so I’m gripping both sides of her head firmly. “That’s my fucking good whore. Open your mouth wider.”

She opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out as I lean in closer, allowing saliva to pool in my mouth. I bend down, dribbling my spit onto her tongue, and she doesn’t flinch or try to pull away. Her breath hitches, a little whimper escaping as I adjust my hands and the angle of her head, pulling her closer so I can easily slide between her lips and into the back of her throat.

She relaxes in my grip, allowing me to maneuver her easily, and I inhale deeply through my nose, reveling in the slide of my dick gliding through our mixed saliva. I push all the way in until the tip pushes against the back of her throat, and then I pause, waiting to see what she’ll do: if she’ll protest or gag, give me a pinch, or ask me to stop. But she doesn’t; instead, she swallows, and for a moment, I fear I might come down her throat right then and there.

I bite the inside of my cheek, withdrawing about halfway before sliding back in, pushing against the back of the throat a bit more forcefully. She swallows, and I push my dick against her swallows until the vibrations of her restricted moan force me to pull back before this comes to an end too quickly.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I shake my head in an attempt to clear the lustful fog that has me on the cusp of coming prematurely. I’m no unseasoned boy, and this is borderline embarrassing, but there’s something about her giving herself over so willingly that has me on edge.

I shove into the back of her throat a few more times, then pull out, yanking her head back so I can look into her eyes. Tears stream down her face, saliva drips down her chin, and I choke out, “Fuck. You’re so fucking beautiful when you cry for me.” I pause to dribble more saliva into her mouth, and she moans again, her hands coming up and gripping my wrists as I continue, “I wanna come down your throat, but not nearly as much as I wanna come inside your wet cunt. Would you like that? Do you want me to fill you up?”

She appears to shake her head and nod at the same time, and I laugh, “You’re gonna have to be clearer than that, sweetheart. Try to form some words with that cock-drilled mouth.”

She swallows, then sniffles and says, “Yes, I’d love for you to fill up my wet cunt.” She pauses for a moment, swallowing again. “But that will have to wait until you don’t need a condom anymore. So not today.”

I groan, my hands on her head tightening. I forgot about the need for a condom. Part of me doesn’t give a fuck, but I respect her wishes more than my foolish thought process, so I meet her gaze again and say, “The throat it is.”

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