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But there was something different for sure. It was the knowing look in my eyes. I’d been transformed by my experiences, pushed into womanhood with one sweet thrust of a man’s cock. Or four mens’ cocks, if I was being honest.
And slowly, I parted my legs. Oh yes. My thighs were sticky still, pussy lips moist and swollen even now, hours after the encounter with the twins. With a slow hand, I reached down and stroked over the cakey whiteness. Their cum. My own juices. The fluids mixed so that it formed a tantalizing brew, flaking off slightly now.
Slowly, my hand cranked the water to the shower, hot steam immediately filling the en suite. But I couldn’t make myself get in. That was the truth. Because I couldn’t bear to wipe off the sticky sperm, the mark of Andrew and Aaron. It shouldn’t have been like this. I should have been dousing myself with hot water, scrubbing hard, trying to get myself clean. For my emotional health, not to mention physical hygiene.
But somehow, I couldn’t get myself to step into the stall. Instead, my fingers kept playing between my legs, stroking through my folds again, imagining the four men.
Damien.
Charlie.
Andrew.
Aaron.
Yes, yes, yes. Touch me again. And right there, in the hotel bathroom, it happened. With one finger smoothing my clit, and another eased into my hole, I came all over again. Four cocks, in my mouth, in my hands, between my breasts. Deep in my private hole, and soon my back hole as well.
A jolt ran through my spine.
Because I wasn’t supposed to want this. I wasn’t supposed to give myself to the ecstasy, to anticipate whatever dirty acts would come next.
And yet, here I was, stroking my curves, dreaming about the four men. Coming hard on my hands, pretending it was their cocks in my puss. Imagining the cum flying once more, hot sperm filling my inner cavity with goopy, satisfying warmth.
Oh yes.
That call with Helena had been pointless, not to mention totally unnecessary.
Because I wasn’t going to lie to myself anymore.
I wanted it.
I wanted to engage with the billionaires over and over again.
Unprotected.
Hard. Hot. Heavy.
Their sperm in all my chambers, making me feel good.
And screaming in the bathroom, my cries reverberated, loud like a banshee. But these weren’t screams of distress or agony. These were the screams of a girl who wanted it all.
Because how many more passengers were there?
How many alpha billionaires would use my body, beckoning me to the dark side?
And shamefully, I wanted it.
But there shouldn’t be shame. I’m an independent woman, making a buck on my own time. Who’s to say that what I’m doing is wrong?
And with that, I collapsed, gasping and panting on the floor of the bathroom, curves spilling everywhere. Because it was too good. Mindblowingly amazing, every nerve alive. And my mind was made up. This was my life, and I wanted to live it to the max, for as long as I was welcome. How long would that be? Another month? Another three months? Even a year?
But there were no more tears. Instead, there was only the daze of fulfillment. The knowledge that I’d made the right choice, even if it was entirely internal. Because being a virgin doesn’t mean that I’m dumb. The opposite. It made me sensitive to the newness of the experience, endowing me the ability to see with fresh eyes.
So I was here now, a stewardess with Elite Air. And my future unfolded, steamy and hot, filled with twists and surprises. What would it bring? Who knew? The only difference was me, aware and vibrant, heated yet knowing. Because I couldn’t wait to meet my next passenger.
