AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, f–fuck,” I groan.
I can’t seem to manage any more direction. Can barely think or see straight. I reluctantly fight against the vibrations sending me into a need-filled abyss.
Nico’s fingers roll the peaks of my nipples, and I’m only a few breaths away from short-circuiting.
“I bet that favorite pussy of mine is begging for me to give it a release.” A lustful chuckle spins out of him. “Don’t you wish you were sitting on my face like you were last night?”
“Shut up,” I manage.
The vibrations abruptly cease. In a blink, the partition shoots up between us, and Nico’s warmth is a ghost haunting my skin.
“Nico, what the fu—”
“Hello and welcome aboard.” A sprightly flight attendant appears at the entry to our pods. “We thank you for your patience with the in-flight dining services. Have you had a chance to look at the menu, and select your meals?”
“What do you think, beautiful?” Nico glances over at me, our thirty-six-thousand-foot foreplay session washed away into a neutral grin. There better not be an Air Marshal on this flight because I’m actually going to kill him.
I peek up at the still-smiling flight attendant. “Is there any chance you can come back to us? We haven’t looked at the menu.”
“If it were any other time, I absolutely would, ma’am,” the flight attendant chirps. “But you’re my last pair of orders, and our in-flight chef needs to begin preparing your meals.”
“We better find that menu.” Nico digs around in his pod.
The vibrations return out of nowhere, teasing my swollen clit again.
My eyes shoot daggers at him.
“The menus are located in the seat pocket to your right, sir.”
He finds the menu, waving it at my face as I white-knuckle my armrest. The speed increases another notch, and my walls convulse.
Yep. I’m going to kill him.
“Do you have any specials?” Nico asks the flight attendant, who lights up with another wave of geniality. I can barely focus on the list she rattles off through the ringing in my ears.
“And of course, following the poached duck egg and Beluga sturgeon caviar appetizer, there’s a prized Wagyu steak with—”
“Look here, the cream puffs sound amazing. Don’t they, beautiful?” Nico practically sings to me before returning to the attendant. “Is the cream stuffed right inside the pastry dough?”
“Of course, sir. Our cows are milked fresh before we board, and the cream is whipped into a plume of supple but firm filling.”
Did cream puffs always sound so sexual?
Sweat trickles down my spine. I need to distract myself. My hands fumble for my copy of the menu. When I bend to grab it, the torture device shifts, and for some twisted, fucked up reason, the toy pulsates against my G-spot.
A moan shoots out of me, and I let out another until I topple forward.
The attendant finds a break in their empathic ingredient discussion to check on me. “Ma’am, are you alright? Can I get you anything?”
“Excuse mywife.” Nico’s voice slithers between my eardrums. “She suffers from motion sickness.”
At once, the vibrations drop. My urge to scream skyrockets.
“You know, we have just the thing up front,” the attendant chimes in. “Let’s get those orders in, and I’ll fetch it for you.”
“No,” I say loud enough for a few passengers to turn their heads toward our seats. “I—I can manage, thank you.”
“What would you like to order, sweetheart?” Nico looks at me, completely straight-faced.
