Half a Mile High?
Tony hated overnight flights, but at least there were some benefits, like no one being in line for the head. He’d woken up from a troubled sleep, aroused and aching with no idea why. Closing the lid, he sat, relaxing as much as possible, unzipping and wrapping his hand around his hard cock. He let his eyes fall closed, the rumble of the plane vibrating his whole body, intensifying the sensations flowing through him. As his hand moved faster on his cock and his climax neared, he wondered if a solitary orgasm would count as joining the Mile High Club.
Abby stood over Tony’s underwear drawer, excited by all the possibilities. She rifled through it, admiring in all the pretty playthings. Hugo Boss, Emporio Armani, Calvin Klein, Andrew Christian – that boy certainly had a thing for designer names. Oh, Clever! She liked the Clever brand; they put such luxurious prints and bold designs on their underwear, gorgeous colors. They were still very obviously designed for a man tastes, but they definitely attracted the eye.
She picked up a yummy pair of boxer briefs in rich browns and deep oranges and rusts. The material was thin and clingy, she could just imagine how these would mold to Tony’s sculpted body. Running the cotton-smooth fabric against the skin of her arm, Abby was entranced. She wondered how they’d feel against her naked body.
She smiled wickedly. What the hell, he’d never notice; they’d be clean and right back where she found them long before he got back from Florida. Abby stripped in seconds, clothes thrown everywhere, leaving only her black studded collar and matching wrist band. Shivering in anticipation, she reached for Tony’s boxers.
She stepped into them, moaning in delight as they slid softly up her thighs, wiggling as they pressed against her cunt. She and Tony were not the same size, but their curves and dips complimented each other’s, and the clingy material fit itself to her comfortably. She wondered how much of the turn-on was the pleasure of wearing someone else’s intimate clothing, and how much was the type of clothing itself. She shrugged, she was enjoying it too much to try and analyze it.
Abby stretched sensuously, humming in delight at the erotic sensations. She scratched her fingernails up her sides, raising lines of pleasure-mixed fire and squeezed her thighs together to hold in the flare of excitement that pulsed through her. Jumping onto Tony’s bed, she giggled as she bounced on the comforter, her breasts swaying from side to side.
She slid one hand up her thigh, pressing the extra material inside the lips of her pussy, where she could feel it soaking up her juices. She was so wet already. Flicking her clit through the cloth, she squirmed, moaning as her hips bucked up into her hand. She kneaded her breasts with the other hand, gasping as she pinched a nipple tight between her fingers.
Sliding her hand down beneath the band of the underwear made Abby feel wanton and wicked. She spread her legs wide, opening herself up to the pleasure as she threw her head back against Tony’s pillows, crying out as the sensations zinged through her body, hips rolling sensually.
The creak of a floorboard near the bedroom door made her freeze. Slowly she turned her head to the side until Tony came into view. He stared at her avidly, his hard cock poking out of the fly of his jeans, hand wrapped tight around it.
He leered at her, licking his lips hungrily, leaning back against the door jamb as if he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him up. “Oh, please,” he begged, “don’t stop on my account.”