Without a moment of even the slightest foreplay, he rolled over and entered her pussy. There was no positioning of bodies, n
o search for just the right position, nor the building of momentum. His cock was like a motorized drill, spreading her open and making her wet beyond belief.
He was fucking her so hard, she was sure her head would have a knot on it the size of an orange if it kept striking the headboard the way that it was.
Her pussy expanded and contracted, gripping tightly to his cock, reluctant to let it go, even though she was sure to be late for work.
“Oh, baby. This is too fucking good. You know I have to go to work. Stop, baby, please. It’s just too good.”
“I know, baby. I know. It’s good to me, too. And, after all these years, your pussy is still as wet and tight as when we first met. This is my pussy!”
“Yes, baby,” she said breathlessly. “Your pussy . . . this is your pu . . . pu . . . pussy. Oh, baby. I’m gonna . . . I’m gonna . . . I’m gonna cum!”
She convulsed beneath him as her orgasm rocked her deep.
“Here it comes, baby. Take it! Take it!”
And, with that, his detonation was immediate.
“Ahhhhh . . .” he sighed. “God, that was good.”
She jumped up from the bed, took a quick shower, and made every effort to get to work on time.
“ ’Bye, baby,” she whispered, as she left him lying prone in bed. “You and that nasty cock of yours have now made me late for work. Maybe I’ll get fired, come back here, and we’ll lie in bed and fuck all night and all day. Would you like that?”
She had worn him out. He had barely enough strength to raise his head from the pillow and say good-bye.
• • •
“Flight 318 to London, now boarding at Gate 14.”
He sat in the airport, wound tighter than a drum and anxious to get away from it all. He was determined to enjoy this trip and leave his cares behind. Lately he had gotten into an awful rut.
Hers was the first face he saw upon boarding the craft. After seeing her, everything else around him paled in comparison.
Her smile would have welcomed him into her arms even if she were the ugliest woman on the face of the planet. Fortunately, she was not. She was unbelievably beautiful. But her smile . . . her smile was more than merely beautiful. Her smile was legendary. He was a man who seldom daydreamed but, at that moment, he was hard-pressed to relinquish the thought of what the combination of her silk sepia tones and his bold complexion might produce.
“Good afternoon,” she said.
“Good afternoon,” he responded, with a little too much bravado.
He couldn’t help himself. In her presence, he felt like a lovesick teenager.
He found his seat, placed his carry-on in the overhead compartment, and waited for the inevitable moment when he would be close to her once again; maybe even close enough to touch her.
“Uhm, did you see that hottie in row twelve? Suddenly I’m craving a tall, wet, steaming cup of hot chocolate,” Karen’s colleague Wendy said.
“Hands off, you she-devil. I saw him first.”
“Don’t worry about me. Georgie is sticking it to me on the regular; and girl, that shit is good!”
“Yuck. You’re sleeping with Captain Saneval. He’s gross. You know he’s married with children, right?”
“Shit yeah. I know, but we have an understanding.”
“Oh” was her only response.
Finally, she made her way over to row twelve.