She shakes her head. She seems a little confused, mute with fear.
“Well, that’s all right,” I soothe her. “My name is Trey. You don’t have to tell me your name. We’ll only be together for an hour anyway.”
She nods, and I can hear that her breath is slowly returning to a normal rate. Still, her fingers dig into my hand, and I’m sure she’s going to leave little crescent-shaped welts, if not scabs. That’s the sort of thing that my brothers are going to see right away. Royce is not going to be very happy with me if he thinks I banged some unapproved female in DC.
“You know what, I’ve got an idea,” I suggest, reaching forward with my free hand to take the plastic wrapped blanket out of the holder. I snap it out, letting it drape over both of us as I gently disengage her claws from the flesh of my hand. I can feel it stinging and I’m certain she’s drawn blood.
“There, isn’t that nice? Nice blanket, nice and warm. You can relax now, okay?”
But she won’t stop staring at me. She’s breathing through her pursed lips, making a whooshing noise with every breath.
“If you keep that up, you are going to hyperventilate,” I tell her. “Is there anything else you can do? Something else that calms you? You have a Xanax or something?”
“Can you make me come?”
I pause, wondering for a moment if this is all part of Brock’s plan. Is she a plant? A prostitute? Did he hire her?
But the fear in her eyes is definitely genuine. The connection between us is pulsing, and that’s definitely real. If she is a hooker, she’s a great one.
“Did you say—”
“Yes,” she says quickly. “I know it sounds weird. You don’t know me, but that’s okay, right? But it relaxes me. And right now… is that too crazy? I just feel like…”
“Honey, if that’s what you need, you have come to the right place,” I smile. “You just relax and let me get you off.”
And I’ll be damned if she doesn’t just lie back in her seat, pressing the button to recline it like a pro. She tugs the blanket over her and then draws my hand to her hot little crotch. Her skirt slides up over her knees as she guides my fingers toward the pulsing, damp mound of her sex.
When the flight attendant passes us, I just shake my head at her in warning. I don’t want her crappy champagne. I don’t want her interrupting me.
My fingers slide over the damp silky fabric of her panties, my pinky tracing a line up her smooth, velvety thighs. She presses her lips together and sighs through her nose, breathing more deeply than she was before.
“That’s it, girl,” I murmur, close to her shoulder.
“No... more than that,” she complains, brushing my hand aside and jerking her panties down. When they’re almost to her knees he grabs my hand again and presses it against her swollen, slick lips. “There. Please.”
I’m hard as a rock, practically coming in my pants as I glide two fingers between her swollen lips. She is so juicy and thick, ready to be fucked. I briefly consider picking her up by the hips and jamming her onto the head of my cock, but something stops me and it isn’t Royce’s stupid fucking rules. She was so nice to give me explicit directions, I figure the least I can do is obey.
My fingers slide against her pussy, opening her up while my index finger circles the tiny pearl of her clit. She thrusts against my fingers, encouraging me to go little harder, a little faster. When I dip down toward her sweet, dark hole, she clamps her thighs around my hand.
“Not there,” she breathes with her eyes still closed. “Stay on my clit, Trey. Make me come. Do it.”
My mind is racing, but I just do what she tells me. Who is this woman? She bosses me around like she knows me or something.
Her hips grind around in circles, running counter to the motion of my finger. I feel her juices gushing, coating my fingers in her sweet nectar.
“Yes, yes,” she begins to moan. “That’s perfect. That’s exactly… unnnnnhhh!”
I am almost sorry to see her come, but completely enchanted too. I don’t want it to be over, so I try to memorize everything… The way her eyelashes flutter. The way her chin rises as her mouth opens. The urgent beating of her heart at the pit of her throat.
She jams her hands down against mine, holding me still as her back arches and her pelvis rocks. Hot, sticky wetness coats my palm. My dick jumps painfully, practically lurching toward her.
Finally she slumps, spent. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, turning to me with a faint smile as she reaches down to pull her panties back up. She nudges my hand out of the way and smooths her skirt down like nothing ever happened.
“Thank you. I feel so much better,” she smiles through a satisfied yawn.
“My pleasure,” I tell her honestly.
Without another word, she curls her knees up in the oversized seat. A few seconds later she’s snoring sweetly, her face untroubled and relaxed.