AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Shhh,” I return and press my cock into her wet heat.
She groans. I bury myself as far as I can and start a gentle bucking, watching as my cock disappears and reappears beneath her ass. She gasps loudly when I thrust too hard. I clap my hand over her mouth. Gradually, I build up speed. I try to keep my pelvis from slapping into her ass to minimize the noise. The angle of penetration seems to work for her. She grunts in earnest. Her body strains toward her climax.
“You realize you’ve got to be super naughty to let a guy fuck you in an airplane,” I growl as I quicken my pumping.
I can see her eyes widen in the mirror.
“Such fucking naughty pussy,” I grunt as I send her over the edge.
As her body shakes, her arms slip from the walls. I catch her, shove myself deep and reach my own orgasm. The release feels incredible. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of spilling my seed into her.
Afterwards, Bridget quickly wipes herself and pulls up her underwear and leggings.
She checks herself in the mirror. “I hope we weren’t too long or too loud.”
“Too late now,” I respond.
She opens the door and steps out. I follow her. An attendant is throwing used cups into the trash and looks surprised to see both of us emerging from the bathroom. Even without seeing Bridget’s face, I know she’s blushing hard. Bridget quickly walks down the aisle, heading back to our section of the plane.
“Anytime you want to go back to coach…” I start to say as we head upstairs.
She scowls at me.
Supper is waiting for us. Bridget seems to have worked up an appetite from her membership activities and digs in.
After supper, she and Amy walk about the plane. A few others are flying in the suites as well: an haute couture fashion designer, a corporate executive, and an MLB player and his wife.
JD and I lounge in the sitting area. I hear Amy coo over the amenity kits by Yves St. Laurent and the pajamas and slippers by Givenchy.
JD overhears it, too. “Isn’t it cute how impressed they get over this shit? I feel sorry for guys who can’t afford to impress their women.”
“You don’t feel sorry for shit,” I say.
“Yeah, you’re right. Sucks to be them.”
JD puts on a Bose headset and listens to music. I get a text from Tommy:
Talked with your mom.
She chewed me out a new one.
I text back:
What did you expect?
JD, reading over my shoulder, asks, “Tommy know that you got approached by Lee Hao Young?”
I stare at my cousin. Even though Amy and Bridget seem too engaged to pay attention to us, we shouldn’t be talking triad business in a place like this. JD has gotten looser with his talk lately.
“We can talk later,” I tell him with my gaze on Amy and Bridget returning. “And you should be more careful. You never know who can hear.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The tone of his response doesn’t inspire me with a lot of confidence. One of these days he might run his mouth off at the wrong place, at the wrong time.
