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You touching me.
“I…um…nothing really,” I reply. It’s probably better that I suppress my libido for the moment. I don’t want Darren suggesting a trip to the lavatory. It was fun the first time, but I still feel guilty about occupying it for unintended purposes.
“That’s too bad.”
“What’s too bad?”
Darren leans over and murmurs in my ear, “I thought you might want me to jack you off.”
His breath, his tone, the idea he implants in my mind all make me squirm in my chair. I do want that. I mean, I do and I don’t.
“Like, right here, right now?” I inquire.
“’Course.”
I take a shaky breath. We’ve already been checked on, so a flight attendant might not be by for some time. Maybe I should go for it.
“Okay,” I say softly.
“Okay, you want me to masturbate you?”
I nod.
He smirks. “How ’bout you ask more nicely?”
“Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please masturbate me.”
He groans. “Sounds fucking hot the way you say that. Say it again.”
“Please masturbate me.”
He slips a hand beneath my dress and rubs my underwear into me. A delicious heat engulfs me. I grip the arms of my chair and focus on the sensation of the fabric rubbing my flesh, the pressure of his fingers teasing my clit. I want to come as fast as I can in case an attendant pops in.
Darren fondles me through my underwear, which is soon soaked and gets in the way. He pulls the underwear to one side, and I feel his fingers unhindered. I let my head fall against the back of my chair and briefly close my eyes. It feels so good.
I don’t keep my eyes shut too long because I want to know if anyone is coming. I don’t entirely trust Darren to stop when needed. He toys with my clit until my need is in full bloom, then sinks two fingers into me. I clench down on the digits and quiver.
He withdraws altogether from beneath my dress and places his moistened fingers at my lips. “Taste yourself.”
I part my lips and take in his fingers.
His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Do you taste good, Bridge?”
I nod. When he slides his fingers out, my stitches tickle, making me want to touch them, but I resist. I don’t want the consequence of having to edit my list of hard limits.
Darren replaces his hand between my thighs. I whimper at his touch. His ministrations set me higher and higher. A climax is within my reach.
“I think we should have the attendants set up our bed,” he says.
“But it’s not night yet.”
“It was your idea to move into the bedroom earlier.”
“That was because—before—argh,” I grumble. Desire vibrates between my legs, anxiously awaiting the finish. “I thought you were going to jack me off?”
He pulls out his hand as he hits the attendant call button with the other. “Oh, I will. And more.”
