Page 3 of The Naughty Week
Almost as amazing as having my panties wrenched to one side and the head of his monster cock opening me up.
“Ready, baby?”
“Always,” I tell him.
“No screaming,” he says and pushes in past the first bar, the nip and pull on my pussy enough to make me groan.
“Quiet!” he says and pushes all the way, ping after ping as the ladder impales me.
And holy fucking shit it feels so good, full to the brim with my boyfriend’s incredible cock, my breath fogging the window.
“You good?” he asks.
“More than good,” I tell him. “Get me fucked… please.”
“I thought I was the one who was desperate for a plane fuck,” he says. “You’re always a horny little bitch, Ells. You’d take every cock on offer in this plane and still be wet for more.”
Josh’s filthy mouth makes me feel so slutty.
“Yeah, I would. But you’re the only one who gets my pussy for free.”
“And you’re the one who gets this for free, so enjoy it, you kinky little mantrap.”
He pulls his cock out by three bars, his standard starting move, and I love it when he slides back in. I’m so wet it fucking squelches.
I’m grinning like a doped-up bitch when he gets into a rhythm. I’d give anything for a good hard slamming right now, but no. I grit my teeth and take it, savouring the heat as my pussy grips him.
He picks up the pace and his hands find my tits, squeezing hard as he pounds me.
Fuck yes. And fuck the clouds. I drop my head, and one hand, and somehow manage to find my clit.
I strum it like a mad bitch and my boyfriend pauses, his cock halfway out.
I know what’s coming – both of us.
He drives back in and I nip my clit and he fucks me fast. And I’m done. Shuddering and biting off a long moan as my pussy pulsates around his onslaught.
“Fuck,” he says and I take the slam without a yell, gritting my teeth as he pumps his cum into me.
When he’s done, he helps me to stand. I shuffle around and drop myself onto the toilet for a pee, his cum dribbling out of me.
“That was amazing,” I tell him.
His cock is still dripping juice and cum, so I give it a suck to clean him up.
“Thanks, baby,” he says, before he shoves it back into his pants, and I’m done too. I give myself a good wipe before I wriggle back into my panties and straighten down my dress, and we’re back to it. Just two regular travellers ready for the beauty of Cannes.
Or more specifically, the beauty of the man waiting for us.
Josh’s crotch is already bulging again by the time we get back to our seats, coast clear, and my pussy is already throbbing for more. Damnit. Will my sex drive ever stop rising?
We give each other a dirty smile and his hand squeezes mine in silent acknowledgement.
This holiday is going to be one hell of a ride.
Touchdown can’t come soon enough, and neither can I.
CHAPTERTWO
