He gives me a lick on my lips. “I hate to say it, but…we’re here.”
“What?” After a moment, I realize the limo’s stopped. I can sense the driver standing outside, waiting for our signal.
Elliot kisses my forehead. “The chauffeur will wait until we’re ready. He knows we’re newlyweds. But our pilot has a schedule to keep.”
“Okay.” I swallow. “I, uh, should probably get the vibrator out.”
“No. Keep it inside you.”
“Why?”
He gives me a wicked smile, his eyes bright. The toy suddenly
starts humming again at a low, steady clip. I gasp at the pulsing sensation. It isn’t enough to make me pant or come, but it is just enough to heighten my awareness of the slick heat between my legs. Then the buzz stops.
“How long?” I ask breathlessly.
“Until we’re at the resort and ready to fuck our brains out,” he whispers into my ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t have it on the entire time. That wouldn’t be pleasant, but you’ll feel the vibrator sitting there, ready.”
My face is so hot, I fan myself. I move off his lap and rearrange my bra and dress. Thank god I didn’t put on much makeup this morning. I reapply lip gloss, while Elliot adjusts himself and runs his fingers through his hair.
Suddenly I can’t help it. I laugh.
“What’s funny?” he asks, an eyebrow arched.
“This. We’re like high school kids getting caught doing something naughty.”
“We may not be in high school, but we’re definitely naughty.”
“I’ll bet you were incorrigible. I, on the other hand, have never done anything like this.”
Elliot’s handsome face takes on an odd look.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Ready to join the Mile High Club?” He extends his hand.
Taking it, I nod. “Yes.”
* * *
Elliot
One good thing about flying private is that we can do whatever the hell we want. So as soon as the plane takes off, I drag my wife to the full bedroom in the back and we have a little soixante-neuf. Nothing compares to being inside her mouth while she comes against my face. A lot of women think there’s some super technique to a blow job, but really there isn’t. It’s all about how much she wants her man, and the noises she makes in the back of her throat and the way her eager mouth moves…
My dick’s hard again. I shift, adjusting myself in my seat.
My wife’s happiness with the private jet is palpable. Now that I’m no longer making her come over and over, she checks every room and feature, her emerald eyes bright and wide. It is fun to spoil a woman who takes such joy in everything.
To me everything inside the jet is sort of…there. To her, it’s all new and interesting.
I try to look at it through her eyes. I suppose the soft leather seats are nice and comfortable. And the bed is nice too if you want to sleep or screw around. The giant screen is pretty cool if you feel like watching a movie. And the shower is convenient if you want to freshen up before landing.
It probably shows how spoiled I am that I can’t muster even half the enthusiasm my wife does. Even when I was younger and didn’t have my own jet, I always had access to lounges and showers and lie-flat seats. Dad may hate us, but he couldn’t tolerate even a whisper that he wasn’t providing for us, and providing in style. It was—and is—important for him to maintain the appearance of superb fatherhood.
Belle sits down next to me, secures her seatbelt. Her cheeks are still flushed and her eyes shine with the after-effects of erotic excitement. The vibrator is something I picked up while she met her best friend. The remote control in my pocket dictates the intensity. Right now it’s off. There’s no reason to torment her for the hours we’re going to be flying. Over-stimulation would be a huge turnoff.
Our cabin attendant is actually a butler in his late forties. Medium-height and carefully dressed in a crisp dark suit, Parker does everything a typical cabin attendant does and more. He doesn’t suggest any alcohol, as per my earlier instructions, but he offers us soft drinks and juices. Belle takes a glass of mango juice, and I take sparkling water.