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But no words were necessary because Mr. Tanning was already coasting, staring at the luscious curves that’d just been revealed.
“Shit,” he rasped. “So beautiful. Let me taste.”
And in a second, the man lowered his head to pull ravenously at one pink nipple.
“Mmmph!” I squealed through the gag. Oh god, his tongue sent jolts straight from breast to cunt, making me moisten down below. “Unnf!”
But the man wouldn’t let up. With another low growl, he reached between my legs and pulled those sopping panties to the side, baring my steaming cunt.
“Gorgeous,” he rasped again, breaking from my breast to eye my swollen lips. “And dripping like fuck too.”
Because this was a man who knew what he wanted. Mouthing my breast once more, he stroked my clit a bit before pinching that hard nub.
“Mmmph!” I squealed furiously, struggling a bit in his lap. “Mmmph!”
And at that moment, a voice crackled on his headset.
“Everything okay there?” a woman’s worried tone sounded. “Everything okay, Captain Tanning?”
My billionaire didn’t even bat an eye. Flipping the mouthpiece down, he spoke, smooth and casual.
“A-okay ground control. Must have been static.”
And then he flipped a switch and we were back on.
“Does this pretty pussy want some finger?” he rasped, now licking my nipple as he finger fucked me below. “You want some hard fucking in this slutty cunt?”
Of course, I wanted to scream “YES!” But there was no way, so my brown eyes just begged even as my hips gyrated, trying to suck more and more of that hand within.
But Mr. Tanning’s smart. He’s got his fetishes, and he knows just how to use them. Because slowly, the big man pulled his fingers from my cunt, the digits coming out coated in white cream.
“Shit you’ve got a lot,” he rasped. “But that’s good because it means we won’t need lube.”
No lube? My eyes flew to his face, big boobies heaving as I stared.
But the alpha chuckled again.
“No lube because sweetheart, my plane is my baby. And I want to see you get fucked. By this,” he said, stroking a knob at his side. My confused eyes swung over to see what was going on. But it was true. On his right side, just like in a car, was a gear shift. The knob was about ten inches long, encased in soft, supple black leather. But oh fuck. It was thick, real thick, with a shiny metal base.
“Mmmph?” I asked, eyes wide, gesturing to the black gearshift. “Mmmph?” Really? How? Why? What?
But the billionaire’s eyes gleamed.
“Fuck it, sweetheart,” he rasped. “I want to see that pretty pussy get spread on this gearshift.”
And I shook my head furiously no. This was so depraved. Beyond my wildest dreams. We were in a plane, flying seven miles above the ground at five hundred miles an hour. And now I was supposed to fuck the gearshift? It was nasty, not to mention dangerous. We’d crash and burn in the fields somewhere.
But Mr. Tanning doesn’t take no for an answer. Because hissing slightly, he stroked my cunt again.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Fuck this gearshift otherwise I’m gonna push you down on it myself.”
And suddenly, I realized he meant business. I either lowered my steaming pussy onto this piece of hard leather, or he was going to do it for me. Someway, somehow, this two hundred pound male was going to manhandle my curves as he flew the plane, making sure my sweet pussy was drilled by his favorite piece of equipment.
Oh god!
Where did that leave me?
But it was only too clear. Because my cunt creamed hotly then, the smell drifting up, humid and pungent, in the cockpit.
