I feel like I’ve surfed past a shark lurking beneath the water and escaped with all my limbs intact, and when I wake up to the humming silence of a darkened plane and feel Sam caressing me through my faded khaki shorts, the bliss of her fingers gripping me through my clothes is enough to make me dizzy.
“What time is it?” I ask, my voice rough with sleep as I shift toward her, granting her easier access.
“The middle of the night,” Sam whispers, her full lips moving in the shadows. “You’ve been out for hours. I was getting lonely.”
“Sorry.” I scan the aisles across from us.
Everyone in my line of sight is passed out and snoring, and that’s all the permission I need to reach under the blanket covering Sam’s lap and return the favor.
I slide my fingers up and down the ridge of her jeans, lingering over her clit, wishing she were wearing one of her sundresses. It would be so easy to push the fabric up, pull her panties to one side, and get my fingers inside her. It’s been almost half a year since we’ve been together, and I’m dying to touch her, taste her, feel her body gripping my cock as her muscled legs wrap around my waist and pull me deep.
“It’s okay.” Sam’s breath hitches as I pop the button on the top of her jeans. “You’re awake now.”
“Wide awake,” I confirm, teeth digging into my lip as Sam drags my zipper down and reaches inside my boxer shorts, taking my cock into her hand.
She wraps her fingers around me and slides her fist up and down, tugging me with the perfect amount of pressure before she pauses to circle her thumb around my swollen head, spreading the cum leaking from my tip in teasing circles that are almost enough to set me off. Her palm is warm, but my dick is on fire. I’ve jerked off more than my fair share the past few months, but it’s not the same.
I know I’m going to come fast, but I don’t want to come before her.
Even our first time, the summer before our sophomore year of high school, when I was so horny I felt like I was going to pass out from excitement the night Sam told me she wanted to go all the way, I made sure to go down on her first. I brought her over on my tongue before I slid on the condom we’d stolen from her mom’s latest boyfriend and pushed inside her.
She’d been so wet, so tight, and the sounds she’d made as pain became pleasure were the most erotic things I’d ever heard. I can still remember every moment of our first time—all sixty seconds of it. Tonight I’m going to last longer, but maybe not by much.
As Sam continues to jerk me off with the skill of a woman who’s spent years pleasuring the same man, I slide my hand down the front of her jeans, beneath her panties, and begin to demonstrate my own expertise. Her jeans are tight, but not so tight I can’t reach her entrance. When I do, I curl two fingers inside her, fighting the urge to groan as her wetness coats my skin and her breath rushes out over my lips.
“Danny,” she whispers, her head falling forward until her forehead rests against mine.
It’s only my name, but those two whispered syllables tell me a thousand things at once.
They tell me she’s as desperate for this as I am that she’s felt just as lost without this connection, this touchstone to who we are together. Sam and I have always been able to talk, but there are some things that can’t be communicated with words. Like the fierce and forever way I love her, like the fact that I’d fight an army single-handed for the chance to lie by her side for even one more night.
“I love you.” I slide my fingers in and out of her with long, sensual strokes, summoning more heat from her body, letting me know my touch still affects her the way it always has.
We haven’t lost this.
We’re still us, and we’re going to find our way back to each other, the way we always have.
My pulse picks up and my cock swells beneath Sam’s increasingly firm grip, but I ignore the pressure building in my balls and focus on pleasuring her. I shift my hand until the heel of my palm rubs against her clit as my fingers drive deeper inside her, ignoring the cramp in my wrist and the faint stirring from across the aisle. At this point, I don’t care if someone’s watching. I need Sam to come on my hand, I need her release as much as I need my own.
More. I live for her touch, but I would die for the chance to watch her features twist as I bring her over, to know I’m the one responsible for unraveling her so completely.