My eyes flicker open with the plane in near darkness and the soft tones of the captain dispersing through the speakers.
"We're just crossing over Texas. Local time is 3am, temperature is 100 Fahrenheit. We're on time and we have another three hours approximately to go to LAX." I lose focus as his words trail into meaningless chatter about the weather.
Looking back, I see almost the whole of first class asleep, the cabin crew, idly chatting at one end of the aircraft and a couple of reading lights left on. But apart from that, it's quiet. Just the sound of the air conditioning and the plane making its way to California.
Mike is waking up too, one eyelid lifts open as he lifts his stubbled cheeks against my shoulder and nuzzles my face. He had to catch as many hours as he could before the big meeting tomorrow with the Hollywood execs but it was proving difficult for both of us.
He's in his casual suit, black shirt, crisp black pants, a beautiful silver watch, a Patek strapped to his wrist. He's honestly delicious and it's making it difficult to think of anything else. My husband looks very sexy, as much as it pains me to concede it, when he wanted to he knew how to sharpen up, he knew exactly how to keep a girl on her toes.
"Hey baby." He muffles through the face mask.
"Hey you." I muffle back, taking him all in. I want to kiss him but just looking at him with his effortlessly hot mannerisms was more than sufficient.
"What time is it?"
"Three apparently." He tries to yawn through the mask and throws his big arms in the air, stretching behind his hair and extending his triceps before puffing his chest out. He has that heady fresh water scent that I've become addicted to and its having an intoxicating effect on my body, stirring something primal in me.
He notices my apparent obsession with his current look and my eyes take a quick peek between his legs noticing his growing member straining against the front of the pants, just begging to be released.
"Who said you could keep checking me out so casually?" He raises one eyebrow and scolds me, slapping me on the leg quickly before I get a chance to cover myself.
I laugh and try to conceal my schoolgirl blush behind the mask as he widens his legs a little bit more, revealing the full extent of his bulging shape spreading down his thigh. My laughs quickly turn to exotic curiosity as he stays rock hard under my touch. He keeps his hand between my legs and lets a gentle finger trail down the inside of my leg, caressing me tenderly, before whispering through the mask into my ear.
"Go wait for me in the toilet."
"Mike! Are you kidding? No way!" I feign indignation but my inner wants cry their approval.
"This isn't a negotiation, young lady. I'll give four knocks." I stroke his pants and furtively look up and down the aisle, the coast was clear, nearly everyone was asleep bar a few late readers. An elderly couple were having an animated conversation further back but there was no way they would spot anything amiss.
Unfastening the seatbelt, I jiggle loose from the seat and squeeze past him, trying to avoid eye contact with the stewardess wandering around a few seats back from us. My heels feel heavy, I'm like a plodding elephant as I try to get to the toilet without too much attention.
Reaching the toilet I slide in carefully and lock the door waiting for the four taps.
Four taps. One, two, three...four. The last one takes a while to come and I'm cautious with the door, but he wedges his way in and quickly locks it behind him dragging his delicious scent in with him. It's these moments that remind me I'm a lucky wife.
His smouldering gaze pins me to the toilet walls. He has that look in him, like he wants to ravage me all night. I swim in his eyes for a second and feel the weight of the world disappear just as quickly. He presses himself against me, his stomach muscles feeling like steel against my heaving belly as he grabs my neck and moves to my ear.
"Forget the foreplay."
Running his hands over my breasts to my stomach, he quickly hikes my skirt down, making me step out of it and his hands go to my taut nipples, letting his fingers grace them gently before squeezing a little harder and moving south. He pulls my dripping panties to one side, teasing the lace for a moment and plunges his index finger inside me, eyes never leaving mine, one hand still on my neck as I grip onto his back for support.
Whispering in my ear, I leave my head against his shoulder and relax into the movement. With two fingers he beckons my hips towards him using a 'come hither' motion, its quite seductive seeing him in just the mask, like we could be two strangers fucking anonymously for the first time. My body bows towards his as he strokes his fingers inside me, against my walls and against all the most sensual points. He looks down on me, a few inches taller than I am in my heels as I let him take the reins, dominating me with his usual fervour, making me pant as he turns me around to face the mirror, his other palm pressing against my clit as his fingers soothe me one at a time.
"You feel so good on my fingers Rose, what if the stewardess caught us right now, you with your little wet cunt dripping all over my hands, being a bad girl like this."
His words inject me with another overwhelming dose of arousal as I feel the beginnings of an orgasm building. It was ridiculously hot knowing we could get caught at any moment, that and his talented fingers were accelerating me to the perfect fantasy.
He takes his mask off, flinging me around to turn to face him and he brushes his lips and tongue down my stomach. I know where he's headed and I can't hold him back. In one swift motion he lifts me onto the counter to make the angle easier and spreads my thighs with his hands, gently rubbing his thumb against my clit in a diagonal motion. It's enough to have me rolling my stomach and hips towards his face to grind his big hands just a little bit harder. I look back at our mess of bodies in the mirror, sweat beginning to drip down my forehead and lower back with my thick afro shaking with each surge of his attack on my damp vulva.
