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He laughed and squeezed her knee until she jumped. “Well, you’re going to have to think of something a little more creative than that,” he said, “because that’s what I was going to suggest.”
“Great minds think alike,” she said before sliding a warm hand between his legs. She wasn’t touching his rapidly engorging cock, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t picturing her releasing him from his pants so she could
lean over his seat and take him into her talented mouth.
By the time the plane took to the sky, Brian was fixating on the bathroom door like an overzealous drunk at the back of a mile-long line for the toilet.
Chapter Three
Myrna sighed and squirmed in her claustrophobic seat. The inflight movie had started, and Brian still hadn’t found their opening for a little rendezvous in the bathroom. It wasn’t because he wasn’t watching for that opening, but perhaps he could use a little encouragement.
Myrna signaled a passing flight attendant. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m a little chilly. Do you have any blankets?”
“Um, sure,” she said. “Just a minute. I’ll get you one.” She turned toward the front of the plane.
“Two, please,” Myrna called after her.
“You should have worn a sweater,” Brian said, stroking her bare arm.
She’d dressed for their arrival in Aruba, not the cool autumn day she’d left behind in Kansas City.
“I’m not really chilly,” she said, “but I’m pretty sure your lap is.” She lifted appreciative brows at the bulge in his pants and then winked at him.
She loved that she could still make her husband’s jaw drop by being naughty.
“Do you want to trade seats with me?” she asked, nodding toward the more private window seat.
Brian unfastened his seat belt and scrambled to hover above of her lap as if his seat cushion had sprouted poisonous thorns.
She chuckled, released her seat belt, and lifted the armrest between them so she could slide to the aisle seat. Brian plopped down beside her. She noted that the bulge in his pants had already increased in size. She glanced around the cabin to determine the best way to angle her body to block the view of onlookers.
The flight attendant returned with the blankets and charged them eight bucks apiece for their blanket and inflatable pillow packs.
“So much for customer service,” Myrna grumbled as she forked over the cash. She supposed buying a blanket was a better idea anyway, in case Brian got a bit too worked up and made a mess. She spread one blanket over Brian’s lap and the other around her shoulders. She turned in her seat and laid her head on his shoulder, her hand resting lightly on his belly beneath her blanket.
“Can you see anything?” she whispered.
He glanced down. “No,” he whispered back.
“Pretend to watch the movie,” she said.
“I will definitely be pretending,” he said.
His abs contracted beneath her hand as she slowly slid it downward. His belly was quivering uncontrollably by the time she reached the waistband of his pants.
“I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” he whispered.
She tilted her head back to look at him, and he kissed her passionately. She was so glad to have found a man as sexually adventurous as she was. Her first husband had been a dud in the sack—or any other place she tried to initiate sex. Brian was Jeremy’s complete opposite, thank God.
Brian’s breath came out in a startled huff against her lips when her hand found his rock-hard cock and gave it a firm squeeze through his jeans. As much as she’d love to make out with him while she touched him, that would get them caught for sure. They had to pretend nonchalance.
“Watch the movie,” she said, rubbing her thumb over his bulge in a circular motion.
He bit his bottom lip and nodded slightly. His eyes were closed, but at least his face was turned toward the screen.
Myrna caressed him through his pants—massaging his length, stroking his head, delighting in the breathless hitch in the small sounds he made in the back of his throat. The flesh between her thighs began to throb unbearably. She squirmed in her seat, trying to alleviate the distracting need pulsing through her wet pussy.
“Touch me,” he whispered. “Please.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing.”
She applied more pressure, gripping his thick shaft and rubbing her thumb over the small bump she recognized as the rim of his head.
He reached under the blanket and jerked open his fly, releasing a sexy gasp when his hot, thick cock filled her hand.
“Brian,” she teased in a low voice, “you can’t just whip it out in public.”
But she loved that he had. If not for indecent-exposure laws, she’d already have him buried in her throat.
Myrna pressed his length against his belly as she stroked him. If she released her hold on him, he’d have made one hell of a tent in the thin blanket.
“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now,” he growled.
She had a pretty good idea actually. She massaged a bead of pre-cum into the sensitive skin of his cockhead. He sucked a breath through his teeth.
“You should probably put this thing away,” she said. “I’d love to keep playing with it, but I have the sudden, uncontrollable urge to go to the bathroom. Maybe you’d like to join me.”
His cock jerked in her hand.
“I’m going to let go now,” she said. “You’d better hold onto it so The Beast doesn’t make a spectacle of himself.”
His hand covered hers, pressing her palm firmly into his erection.
“Just give me one minute,” he said breathlessly.
He guided her hand up and down his length, his face turned slightly toward the window as his eyes rolled upward, his mouth dropped open, and his lashes fluttered.
She knew that face. “Don’t you dare come until you’re inside me,” she whispered. “We have a baby to make.”
She tugged her hand free, and he doubled over, breathing hard as he tried to regain control.
“Is everything okay?” the flight attendant asked from the aisle. “You don’t look so good.”
Myrna jerked at the unexpected intrusion. Her face went hot, but she managed not to reveal what had her husband sweating and flushed.
“Just a little upset stomach, I think,” Myrna said, rubbing Brian’s back as if concerned with his discomfort. She was rather enjoying it, truth be told. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He waved a hand, the other still buried beneath the blanket. “I’ll be fine in a minute,” he groaned miserably.
“Are you going to be sick?” the flight attendant asked.
“Probably,” he said.
“I’ll help you to the bathroom,” Myrna said. “Okay?”
He nodded resolutely and fumbled under the blanket, undoubtedly closing his fly.
“I can get you an airsickness bag,” the flight attendant offered.
“I don’t think that’s going to help. He’s not feeling well elsewhere.” Her gaze shifted pointedly downward.
The woman didn’t need to know it was his dick and not his intestines causing him problems. Myrna would let her come to her own conclusions about his ailment and why he needed to spend an uncommonly long time in the lavatory.
When Brian was done making himself presentable, Myrna climbed from her seat. “Come on, sweetheart, I’ll help you to the bathroom and wait outside in case you need anything.”
She held out a hand to him, and he scooted from the seat, holding the blanket scrunched up against his waist and doing a pretty good job of acting as if he were sick as he shuffled toward the bathroom. He closed himself into the small bathroom while Myrna waited outside, looking concerned. No one wanted to wait in line with a “sick” passenger in the restroom, so in less than a minute, Myrna found the galley area by the lavatory blissfully empty of spectators.
She opened the bathroom door and found her husband with his cock out, stroking it vigorously with both hands. His head was tilted back in abandon as he panted toward the ceiling of the tiny compartment.
“I told you not to come unless you’re inside me,” she whispered, and squeezed into the small space with him.
“You are trying to kill me, woman,” he accused breathlessly.
He pressed her back against the inside of the flimsy door and
