Page 222 of S is for SEX

WILSON

My father said a relationship is no different than a good romance novel. A fight, separation, angst, and an eventual reunion are all required to make it great. As the jet leveled off at 39,000 feet, I stood from my recliner and opened my arms, quite certain his advice was one hundred percent accurate.

“Can I get up?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said as I motioned for her to stand.

“This is awesome. It’s got tons of room,” she said as she stood.

“I’ve always had issues with flying in commercial airliners. To tell you the truth, I have no business with a jet, hell I don’t need one…” I said as I looked around the cabin. “But it lets me fly without the stress of flying commercial.”

“Can’t fuck on an American Airlines flight, either,” she said as she slapped her hand against the cushion of her seat.

“Which brings me to this,” I said as I leaned toward her.

I placed my hands on each side of her face and kissed her. Our lips met, our tongues intertwined, and what began as a playful kiss quickly turned into a much more passionate affair. Within seconds, we were tearing at each other’s clothes in an almost frantic state.

Being away from Stevie for three days was eternal torture. It provided me with all of the pain, agony, heartache, and heartbreak I needed to fully understand I never wanted to be without her again. There was no doubt she was the woman not only of my dreams, but the only woman I could ever love. As we stumbled along the fuselage groping and grabbing each other, I felt I couldn’t touch her enough, love her enough, or provide her with enough. I felt I needed more, but realized she was offering all she was able and all I had asked for.

“I want that cock. I need it,” she said as she fumbled with my shorts.

“Take it easy,” I said as I reached for the button.

“Take it easy? Come on, I apologized. It’s over,” she said.

I felt like we had broken up, and although it had only been a matter of days, it seemed like months since I had seen her. I realized ultimately I had done nothing wrong, but it sure didn’t feel that way. I wanted long-lasting romance, kissing, and to hold her in my arms.

“I want to hold you, hug you, and never let you go,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck all that. And don’t get sappy on me. I fucked up. It’ll never happen again. But sorry, dude, I don’t do the sappy shit,” she said. “I just don’t.”

She pushed her shorts to her ankles and kicked them to the side.

“Nobody is gonna come out of there, right?” she asked as she tossed her head toward the front of the plane.

I shook my head and chuckled. “Not unless there’s a serious problem.”

She pulled off her underwear and tossed them beside her shorts.

“I can’t fuck you if you’re dressed,” she said as she waved her hand toward my waist.

As she stood in front of me wearing nothing but a shirt, I stared blankly. I still felt a need to hold her, hug her, and kiss her. I wanted to convince myself she was never going to leave me again. She may not “do sappy”, but at that moment, I felt like a hopeless romantic, and I wanted assurance we were going to be alright long-term. I watched her silhouette collapse into her chair, and realized I had been standing with my hand on the waistband of my shorts for quite some time.

As my eyes came into focus, I realized she was sitting in her recliner with it fully reclined. With her legs cast out to the side and her heels dug deeply into the side of the leather arms, she had her two middle fingers shoved deep inside her pussy.

And my hopeless romantic feelings immediately vanished.

I wrestled with removing my shorts, finally pulled them off, and frantically tore at my boxers as I stumbled toward the recliner. After almost falling down twice, I eventually ended up at the foot of the recliner between her knees.

Seemingly without a worry in the world, she continued to finger herself and grin. I situated myself on my knees and watched for a moment while she pleasured herself, moaning and biting her lip the entire time. Now in front of the recliner with a stiff cock and a heart full of desire, I leaned forward and pressed my palms against her inner thighs.

“Move your hand,” I said.

She held her fingers in place for a moment, exhaled, and then slowly slid them from inside of her. I moved my hands along the inside of her thighs, and using the tips of my thumbs, prepared for what I had planned.

As I moved my face between her legs, she began to moan in anticipation. With my tongue flicking against her clit and my index finger slowly working in and out of her wet pussy, she raised her ass slightly and began to wail.

“Oh God…” she cried.

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