“Oh,” Jules said. “It’s kind of funny. I actually have a hard time picturing you with a family. You seem so…”
“I seem so what, Juliette?”
“Jules,” she said quietly, but for some reason her cheeks were staining with red.
We fell into silence while the flight attendant moved through first class offering refreshments. I was pleased when Jules passed on the drinks and food, instead seeming intent to keep sorting my emails. I hadn’t been blowing smoke up her ass in my office yesterday. She really was impressive. I’d never had a personal assistant a quarter as capable.
She unlatched her seatbelt half an hour later and then paused as she was getting up. “Have to pee,” she said, shrugging.
“You don’t need permission to use the restroom,” I said, not looking up from my phone. Except when I saw her ass swing into view as she exited her seat, I discreetly admired the view. I could see the outline of her thong pressing against the fabric, and the uncomfortable tightness between my legs came back.
Before she returned, we hit a patch of turbulence that shook the plane and dimmed the lights. A few people let out surprised gasps and the flight attendant near my seat had to grab onto a chair to keep himself upright.
The pilot came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re experiencing a little choppiness. Please return to your seats.”
I looked toward the restroom. Why wasn’t Jules coming out?
A minute passed, then two. The plane kept shaking and the lights kept dimming. It was some of the worst turbulence I’d dealt with flying commercial. Fucking hell, I thought. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got up, heading for the restroom.
“Sir,” the attendant said. “Please go back to your seat.”
I waved him off, then knocked on the bathroom door. “Jules. Gotta get back to your seat.”
There was no response.
“Jules?” I asked.
I heard shaky breathing when I put my ear close to the door. “Open the door.”
The latch clicked, and I pushed the door open. I found her sitting on the toilet with her skirt pulled down and her thong around her ankles. I barely noticed because she was completely white and her forehead was beaded with sweat. She was clutching the sink and the wall with white knuckles, clearly terrified of the turbulence.
“Hey,” I said, moving toward her, but not quite sure what to do. If I helped her stand up she’d be flashing me, which probably wouldn’t help her nerves. “What’s going on?”
She shook her head in tight, rapid movements. “We’re crashing, aren’t we?”
“Are you done?” I asked.
“What?” she asked.
I dipped my chin slightly, careful not to move my eyes to her naked lower half.
Her eyes went a little wider and she gasped. “Oh, God,” she said, jumping to her feet to pull her underwear and skirt up. Before she could complete the act, another round of turbulence hit, pushing her forward into me and sending us both thumping against the door. Her hands were on my chest, and I’d instinctively put my arms around her to keep her from falling.
Neither of us moved or said a word for several painful moments. My cock unfortunately didn’t care about company policy or my ambitions. All it seemed to care about was that Jules Adams had her bare ass out and was pressed up against me in a cramped airplane bathroom. I was hard in an instant, and deadly conscious of how good it would’ve felt to slide my hands down and pull her into me by that firm ass of hers.
“I’m just going to-” she said, wincing as she started to crouch. Another round of turbulence sent her face first into my erection just as she crouched to pull up her skirt. She bounced off and would’ve fallen if I hadn’t caught her by the head. We braced in that position for a few seconds until the turbulence passed.
That was how the male flight attendant found us when he opened the door to the bathroom.
Both my hands were on the back of Jules’ head, and I was trying to keep her from falling by pressing her face into my pants. More specifically, I was pushing her face directly into my raging erection.
His face fell when he saw us. “Damn it. All the good ones are straight,” he said to me. “Well, you kids have fun.” He shut the door.
Jules finished pulling up her underwear and skirt, leaving us both standing there and me with a confused erection.
“This never happened,” I said.
11
Juliette
I spent the rest of the flight wondering why nobody had ever invented a stronger word for embarrassment. There were gradients of disaster. There was a small disaster, otherwise known as an issue. Then there were problems, situations, calamities, and cataclysms. What happened in the bathroom was an apocalyptic level of embarrassment.
It was the kind of moment that left emotional scars. I was going to wake up in a cold sweat at random points in my life reliving that horrible series of events. Worse, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that my face had definitely collided with a very erect penis when I’d knelt down to pull up my skirt.