by NJ Cole
Removing the jeweled toy from between her cheeks, I slid two lubed fingers in its place. I stretched her with them, using a scissoring motion until her asshole was wide and perfect for my cock. After sliding on a very lubricated condom, I pressed myself against her back entrance. The jeweled plug had been nowhere near my size, but it did help considerably to loosen her up.
Inch-by-inch, I sank my cock into her tight, virgin ass. She whimpered the entire time, but in a way, that turned me on even more. I reached around her small body and grabbed her tits as I seated myself inside as far as humanly possible.
Chapter 10
He was fucking my ass. I’d been nervous about this moment since he’d first suggested it on his birthday, but now that he was actually doing it, it felt amazing. I felt so incredibly full as he inched himself farther into me. Just when I thought he was completely in, he grabbed my breasts and used them as leverage to get in a tiny bit further.
“Are you alright?” he asked, which was more than the man who had taken my vaginal virginity had done.
I nodded.
“I’m going to thrust now, Baby. I’m going to start fucking this tight ass of yours.”
And that’s just what he did…and it was wonderful. Each time his cock passed in and then out of me, I felt each ridge, each vein, each and every part of him like I’d never felt it before. The feeling was indescribable.
“You are so fucking tight, and so Goddamn hot,” he groaned loudly as he fucked me faster.
With each thrust, one of his hands worked and pinched my still accessorized nipple while the other rubbed at my clit. Every sensation, every little breath, overwhelmed me with pleasure. Each of the orgasms seemed so simple, I couldn’t tell you how many times I came as he fucked my ass. I was trembling with exhaustion when he picked up the pace and slammed into me hard a few times before stilling and collapsing on top of me.
Several minutes later, when he finally withdrew his cock, I couldn’t stop the wince.
“Baby, are you alright?” he asked in a concerned voice, brushing some of my sweat-plastered hair off my neck.
“Mmmmhmmmm,” I answered contentedly, unable to move my Jell-O-like limbs.
Feeling him spoon in next to me, I rolled over and, placing my head on his chest, fell into a dreamless sleep.
I won’t lie; the next morning when I got up to make breakfast, I was incredibly sore. I started to get out of bed, but Maxwell pulled me back down. “Food can wait. I’m hungry for you,” he said, nibbling on my ear.
We didn’t have anal sex again, and he didn’t tie me up. What we did do was different—slower, softer, more sensual, yet just as passionate—and there was no doubt in my mind that when he thrust into me, with our eyes locked, he was trying to tell me something. What the something was, though, I wasn’t quite sure. I wished he would just tell me what he was thinking. Was he silently telling me this was our last time? Was it that he wanted this to continue? Was he saying he wanted more? I didn’t even allow myself a chance to contemplate the last question. It was impossible and I knew it. If he were a regular man with an ordinary job, the age difference would be the only factor keeping us apart, but with him as a senator, the prospect of something more with him was insurmountable.
However impossible it was to continue what we had between us, I did have this morning, and I made the most of it. We kissed and touched, and eventually went downstairs for breakfast. Our meal was light—just bagels with cream cheese—and as we were finishing up, his phone rang. He looked at it but ignored it. A few moments later, it rang again.
“Fuck!” he grumbled, finally picking it up. “Yeah, Carter,” he said as a greeting.
“Shit… Fine… Yeah… ‘Kay… See you in a couple of hours.”
“You’ve got to go?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah. They need my help. I fly out in two hours, and when I get back, I head to New York for a few weeks. After that, it will be pretty close to Christmas, which I’ll be spending in Europe on a subcommittee.”
He looked upset, and honestly I was too. Instead of dwelling on it though, I began to anticipate our next encounter.
“Christmas in Europe sounds lovely,” I said with a smirk. “I bet you’ll get the best present!”
A smile spread across his face as he said sexily, “Visions of sugarplums are already dancing in my head.”
~~~~~
School had been hectic, and the three weeks between Thanksgiving and the end of the semester had me running nonstop. It was a relief to be done with finals and boarding a plane to spend some time away on a vacation. I was glad I was going to spend some time with my dad, but the real reason I was looking forward to the trip was Maxwell.
“I can’t believe you decided to come with me, Kenz,” my dad said, putting his laptop into the overhead compartment for takeoff.
“I think it’ll be great to spend winter break in London.”
“I could have checked in with Max in New York and have been home for Christmas. We still could if you want to spend Christmas back in California.”
“Dad, I was the one who suggested it, remember? I want to spend Christmas somewhere there might be snow. It’s not like I believe in Santa. Besides, I’m kind of interested in what you’re doing. I’m thinking of declaring Political Science as my major.”
My dad smiled. I wasn’t bullshitting him, either. Ever since Maxwell’s birthday, I’d been following his career and other politicians closely. I found the whole thing fascinating. I didn’t really want to run for office personally, but I could see myself organizing campaigns.
We were not flying directly from San Francisco to Heathrow International; we had a connecting flight at JFK in New York. Maxwell was there, and he’d be joining us for the rest of the flight.
I hadn’t seen him since Thanksgiving, but I’d gotten several texts from him. The first one came several hours after he’d left to help with the recall. It had simply said, “Daddy misses you.”
The next one came a week later and was just as short. “Thinking about you, Babygirl.”
The messages gave me butterflies, and I had responded to each one with a short reply, but there had been no running dialogue.
The most recent text came this morning. “Daddy likes skirts.”
All I’d replied with was a smiley face, though I’d gotten the message loud and clear. I was currently wearing a knee length grey skirt and an off-white cashmere sweater. My mother had sent me an olive green scarf for Christmas that went perfectly with the top, which I had draped stylishly around my neck. My favorite part of the ensemble, though, were the black leather boots I’d picked out last week. They had spectacular heels and made my legs look longer. I didn’t look at all like a little girl, but I was wearing a skirt.
My heart beat nervously as we landed in New York and exited the plane. The flight had passed quickly, my dad and I talking the whole time about my possible decision to declare a major. He’d teased me that I’d graduate before I picked one.
As we walked through the airport, I scanned the faces for Maxwell. I saw him before my father did; he was staring right at me. If I’d had any doubts as to my choice of outfit, they vanished the moment I saw the hungry look in his eyes.
I was sure my look matched his. He was dressed in a dark grey suit with a blue tie, making me want nothing more than to tear it from his body. He started to walk toward us, but was stopped by two women.
“Senator Joseph! Will you sign an autograph?”
I was surprised he was recognized so far from California, but then I remembered why he was here. He’d been working with the mayor, trying to boost his image with the younger demographic.
When he finally made his way over to us, my dad spoke. “Let’s grab a drink in the lounge. Our flight doesn’t leave for an hour.”
I was reminded again of my age when my dad made sure that I ordered a diet coke while he and Maxwell each had a beer.
I was also reminded of my situation when a beautiful r
edhead approached the table. I recognized her immediately from Maxwell’s birthday party; her name was Tiffany DuPree. I only remembered her because she’d thrown a fit about a waitress spilling a drink near her. She’d demanded that the woman be fired on the spot, as it could have gotten on her shoes, which she’d exclaimed, cost more than two thousand dollars. Everyone had been whispering about her behavior the rest of the night. I must have heard her name and “pretentious royal bitch” used in the same sentence half a dozen times that night.
“Well, if it isn’t Senator Joseph!” Maxwell turned to her and plastered his political smile on his face. After spending some time with him, I was finally able to differentiate the real one from the fake one. “Now, Maxi,” the woman simpered as she leaned in closer, “It’s a shame I didn’t know you were in New York until I saw you at the benefit last night. If I’d have known sooner, I would have made sure to take you out and show you a good time.”
Maxwell continued to smile at her, and I was thrilled to see that it was his ‘fake smile.’ I had no idea how she didn’t know he was in New York; he’d been on the news almost every day. Then again, I didn’t think she spent much time watching CNN.
“Well, I’m off to Paris. You?”
“London,” he supplied.
“If you’re still there for New Year’s, give me a call. I’d love to ring it in with you.”
She ran her hand down the sleeve of his jacket. I wanted to punch her in the face for her innuendo, but she was gone before I knew it.
“Now that would be one hell of a political asset to have,” my dad laughed.
I just stared at him. Did he really think a joke like that would go over my head?
Maxwell didn’t even respond. We finished our drinks and then boarded the second flight—one that would be much longer than the first.
I was thrilled when I realized we’d be flying first class. It was a bit disappointing, though, that the seats were in pairs. Maxwell and my dad sat on one side of the aisle while I sat on the other.
I didn’t end up sitting alone, though. A guy about my age, wearing jeans and a tight T-shirt sat down next to me. “Hey, I’m Zach,” he said, smiling at me as he brushed his shaggy blonde hair from his eyes.
He was cute, but about as shallow as they came. It turns out he was in a band—Iron Warthogs—and assumed I’d go all fan-girl on him. I’d never heard of them, but I was more into classic rock anyway.
I was thrilled that cell phones were allowed on international flights between JFK and London. As soon as it was available, I took out my phone and started using it. I didn’t really need to check my email or play games, but I was hoping the guy would take the hint that I wasn’t interested. He didn’t; he just kept talking. Apparently, my lack of interest in him made him more interested in me.
Deciding to take a different approach, I smiled and laughed when I should. I even took his phone number when he gave it to me. I was relieved when the flight attendant took the dinner dishes and lowered the lights of the cabin. I told Zach I was tired as an excuse to shut him up. My intention was to just close my eyes and pretend to be asleep so I could hear the conversation across the aisle, but as I listened to the sexy sounds of Maxwell’s voice, I relaxed further and further until I was awoken by the feel of my phone vibrating.
I picked it up to see a text from him. “Lavatory. Front of plane. Now.”
Chapter 11
She looked spectacular. When I’d told her I liked skirts, I’d expected something that looked a bit like a little girl. Instead, she was dressed like a professional woman, looking very sexy. I’d wanted her the entire time we were in the lounge, and sitting across the aisle from her on the plane was torture. The icing on the cake, though, was when that asshole started talking to her.
The punk looked at her breasts more than he looked at her face. I don’t know what it was about her, but the thought of any other guy even looking at her made my blood boil. I knew I had no right; we weren’t in a committed relationship. Hell, we weren’t in a relationship at all.
I continued my conversation with Carter, though I was only half paying attention. Eventually, she fell asleep, as did everyone in the first class cabin. I hated that she was sleeping next to that creep. He only wanted her for one thing. I knew it was hypocritical of me to be thinking that way, though; it was her body I coveted, as well. The difference was, I’d already had her, and she’d loved every minute. It seemed like a perfect time to remind her of that fact.
With a raging erection, I stood and headed to the lavatory at the front of the plane. The flight attendant was reading a book and didn’t even look up as I walked by. That was good for me. Rather than jerk off to the memory of her pussy, I could have the real thing. I’d noticed her phone had been lying on her thigh, so I was hoping she’d hear it if I sent her a text.
I punched in the letters quickly. “Lavatory. Front of plane. Now.”
After a few minutes of waiting, the door opened and she walked in nervously.
I reached over and flipped the lock so that the occupied sign showed to anyone who walked by. Then, without a word, I spun her around so she faced the mirror. Taking the silver necklace from my pocket, I dangled it in front of her, making her eyes light up as I fastened it around her neck. I pulled up her skirt, exposing black lace panties that made my dick drip with anticipation. There wasn’t much room in the lavatory, so I knew undressing would be near impossible. Pushing them aside instead, I felt her wet folds.
I loved how she was always wet and ready for me. Dropping my pants, I freed the one eyed monster and rolled on a condom.
Spreading her legs and lifting her slightly, I impaled her with my cock. Her eyes opened wide as I thrust into her again and again while she bit her lip and held her breath to keep quiet. I knew I should have been taking it easy on her, but I needed to reclaim her as mine.
Bending forward, I growled in her ear. “My pussy.”
“Yes,” she panted.
I almost came from that one word alone, but by sheer will power I held off. I wanted more of her.
I slid my hand up and under her shirt to feel the lacy cups of her bra. My touch wasn’t gentle as I tugged on her nipples and squeezed her breasts, nor was it gentle when my other hand slid up her thigh and reached around to pinch her clit. There was nothing soft or gentle about anything I was doing. It was primal; I was claiming what was mine, and would have done it in front of that asshole if it were possible—bent her over the seat and fucked her right before his eyes, then pulled out and come all over her.
“Mine,” I growled again.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
It was only then that I realized the state she was in. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were closed. I’d raised her top enough to see that I’d left red marks where I’d pinched and pulled on her breasts, and I could see the muscles of her flat stomach start to ripple. I knew she was fighting off an orgasm of her own.
“Open your eyes,” I demanded. “This is what it looks like to be thoroughly fucked. Remember the look in your eyes.”
I pounded into her hard while raising both hands to her breasts. “My tits,” I growled in her ear.
“Yes,” she panted.
Lowering them to her pussy, I spread her lips with one hand and pinched her clit with the other, all while continuing to pound into her. “My pussy.”
“Mmmmmm, yes.”
“Mine…mine…mine.”
I emptied myself into the condom as she came all over my cock. Only when we were finished did I realize the level of noise we must have made.
She was still breathing hard when I pulled out of her and removed the condom. After cleaning up as best as I could and disposing of it, I fixed her sweater and pulled her skirt down. She hadn’t moved yet, though her breathing had finally slowed.
Spinning her around, I kissed her lips hard, knowing I was likely bruising them. She didn’t protest, though…just opened her mouth and allowed me to tongue fuck her.
I
kissed my way to her ear and whispered, “What I want, how I want, and when I want.” She let out a strangled whimper. I then removed the necklace and put it back in my pocket. “Now, get that hot little ass back to your seat and get some sleep so that you’re well rested, because I’m going to fuck your pussy every chance I get when we’re in London.”
Sadly, the next chance I got was two days later. I barely saw her after the flight. We had each made it back to our seats undetected, and I loved watching her fall asleep, but as soon as the plane landed we went our separate ways. We were staying at the same hotel, of course, but I had meeting after meeting. Even my nights were taken up with social obligations.
I’d thought about going to visit her in the middle of the night, but since she was sharing a suite with Carter, it would have been damn near impossible to pull off.
The one chance we did get was unfortunately much too short. After Carter and I had finished a meeting, he said he wanted to stop off and see another client. I knew I’d have half an hour, and I used it to the fullest, fucking her tight pussy raw. It was wonderful, but I needed more.
The perfect opportunity for some alone time arose during a meeting with Nigel Ashworth, a member of the House of Commons, the next day.
“Will you be returning to the States for holiday tomorrow?” Nigel asked as we were concluding our meeting.
“No, we plan to stay here through the New Year,” Carter replied.
“You can’t spend Christmas in a hotel. I have a place an hour or so from here. It’s our summer home, but it’s lovely this time of year, as well.”
“We couldn’t impose,” I responded, though it did sound nice.
“Nonsense. It would be no imposition at all. We won’t even be in the country. We’re heading to France to spend Christmas with my wife’s family. I’d much rather be with you, though.”