A half smile flickers across his lips.
“Might be,” he teases.
“It is,” I gasp. “It’s a plane.”
“Clever girl,” he laughs, drawing me into a tight embrace and kissing me hard on the lips. “Would you like to get on board and have a look?”
“Of course I would!”
Omigod! He’s taking me away on a plane? This is soooo super exciting.
I feel like jumping up and down like a little girl, but I try to stay calm and ladylike, despite myself.
“This is insane,” I say. “You weren’t wrong about a surprise. And okay, no more questions from me. You don’t need to say where we’re going. I’m just going to trust you that this is gonna be good.”
Like a gentleman, I allow her to walk up the steps and into the jet first. So I hear, rather than see, her reaction.
“Oh. My. God,” she shrieks from inside. “This is incredible!”
“She’s not a bad old thing, is she?” I reply, stepping on board just in time to see her spinning around, hands clasped in excitement, taking it all in, her eyes darting around the plush, luxurious interior.
“She’s a bit of an extravagance, I must admit,” I add. “But with travelling so much for business, I suppose it was a good investment.”
“Wait one minute,” she says, her eyes widening even further as she stops and looks at me. “Are you saying that you own this?”
I nod slowly, watching the news dawn across her face.
“Holy shit!” she blurts out, before putting a hand in front of her mouth. “Sorry about the language,” she adds. “It’s just ...”
She throws herself down into one of the tan leather seats.
“It’s just that, all the times you’ve been away to Brussels or wherever on business, I was imagining you crammed into some Easy Jet flight or something!”
“Fraid not,” I grin, taking the seat opposite her.
She looks at me, her eyes ablaze as she pushes herself up from her seat and jumps onto my knee.
“I can’t believe,” she says between kisses, “that I actually felt sorry for you. I thought you were spending hours queuing at airport terminals before being cramped into one of those god-awful seats for a few hours when all this time you were on this? On your own jet?”
She runs her fingers through my hair, even giving it a playful tug for a moment.
“You bad boy, letting me feel sorry for you. Whenever we get where we’re going, I’m going to make you pay.”
“I certainly hope so,” I reply.
And her on my lap like this is certainly causing a stirring in me. If I’ve got anything to do with it, we won’t be waiting to get to our destination before we have a little fun ...
Just then, the pilot’s voice reverberates through the cabin.
“All clear for departure sir?”
“Excellent,” I call back. “We’ll take our seats.”
Reluctantly, I slide Chrissie off my lap and she gets into the seat next to me and buckles her seatbelt, ready for take off. With a final rumble the plane taxis down the private landing strip and makes a smooth take off. Just like that, we’re in the air, and now I know that Chrissie’s relaxed, it’s time to make my move.
So I reach over and unbuckle her seatbelt, whispering in her ear, “I liked it when you were sitting on my lap earlier. Come back here. I want you to give me that telling off you’ve been promising me.”
“Okay,” she says, easing herself out of her chair and back onto my lap. “I still haven’t quite forgiven you for your little stunt,” she says, teasing, as between her words she gently kisses and licks my face. “I had plans this weekend, which you’ve totally ruined.”
“Oh!” I say, enjoying our little game, acting the innocent. “And what were they?”
She looks directly at me and I can see that she’s scanning her brain, trying to remember exactly what it was she did have planned for this weekend.
“That’s right, I had a manicure booked for tomorrow morning,” she challenges.
“Yes,” I reply, quick as a flash. “And perhaps I’ve rearranged your appointment for next Wednesday evening.”
“Of course you have,” she says, green eyes narrowing. “You bastard. You think of everything.”
“I certainly do,” I say, drawing her into a long kiss.
As our mouths crush together, I can feel her shivering with excitement, but when my fingers begin to toy with the hem of her dress, uncovering more and more of her slender legs beneath, she breaks away, leaning back a little to catch my gaze.
“Will! What are you doing?” she whispers with a wry smile, casting her eyes in the direction of the cockpit. She reaches down and grabs my hand by the wrist, just as my fingers brush against the silk of her panties. “Not here!” she giggles.
“Relax,” I murmur back, as my fingers push further between her legs, my thumb now starting to brush slowly but surely against the soft warmness of her knickers – knickers which are already getting damp. “This is my jet, remember. We’re alone. No one can see us. It’s just us and the pilot, and I’m guessing he’s got other things to think about ...”
“Are you sure?” she says, her voice trembling a little.
“I’m positive,” I reply. “And anyway, don’t you want to join the mile high club?”
She swallows, letting go of my wrist, a shy grin on her face.
I can tell that this is something she’d never do normally. That it’s totally breaking her I’m a good girl narrative, but at the same time, I can tell she’s loving it. And her body confirms the fact. As I push her panties to one side and gently begin to stroke her tender flesh, I register with delight just how hot and wet the idea has gotten her.
As I start to thumb her clit, she shivers and trembles on my lap, shifting position so she’s facing away from me, her bum rubbing against my groin, her legs spread so wide now that her dress is riding up around her hips, and I hear her sigh as she starts to rock her hips, too, her toned buttocks teasing my cock which is already rock hard and straining at my trousers.
As she continues to tease me with her bum, I scoop her breasts easily from the front of her dress, toying with her hard little nipples, as I feel her push her buttocks eagerly into my rock hard cock, stroking my shaft through the fabric of my suit pants. But I can’t take this exquisite teasing much longer, and I push her up and off me, just long enough to free my aching cock from my pants.
“Allow me,” she says with a playful tone to her voice, turning around to face me, then dropping to her knees before my spread legs, her angelic face now only inches away from my rock hard cock.
She shoots another timid glance over her shoulders, then a devilish smile spreads across her lips. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” she murmurs, more to herself than anything, and then I watch her slender fingers curl around my shaft as she guides my cock towards her pretty mouth, those plump sensual lips parting, giving me a flash of her pink tongue, before she envelops the head of my cock in her mouth with a soft sigh, her eyes closing as he begins to stroke and suck me at the same time, first slowly and sensually then picking up speed, her other hand moving to my balls, teasing and kneading them as she continues to work my cock. I can feel her tongue swirling around the head, just the way I like, and I even start to feel that familiar sharp tightening rush of pleasure in my stomach – the tell tale sign that if she continues in her current fashion, the fun will be over way too quickly.
So I gently reach down and cup her face in my hands, easing her away from my cock.
“Aw, no fair,” she grins, her pretty green eyes flashing with devilish glee now.
God, she looks so amazing – so beautiful, so naughty, so alive.
“Don’t worry,” I smile back. “The fun’s not over quite yet.”
And with that, I reach into my trouser pocket and draw out a condom, quickly unwrapping it and sheathing it over my hot, hard, pulsing cock.
“Oh, so you planned this all al
ong, did you?” she grins with mock annoyance, but even as she’s pretending to be mad, she’s stepping out of her knickers, pulling up her dress and then climbing back over me, facing me this time.
“I’m just a gentleman, planning ahead,” I reply.
“Oh really,” she grins, taking me in her hand and then guiding me inside her. As she lowers down onto me, one knee either side of me, I take hold of her perfect arse in my hands, spreading her wide, coaxing her down, deeper onto my cock. She’s so bloody tight that I groan, and she too lets out a deep sigh that shivers past her glossy lips, her eyes closing as she begins to ride me, grinding her clit against the base of my cock as I guide her movements, my hands on her bum.
As she continues to ride me, I take one of her breasts in my mouth, flicking my tongue against her hard little nipple, causing her to sigh and shudder again. I know she’s close now, I can tell by the soft little moans she’s making, her movements growing faster, and right now I want nothing more that to watch this beautiful woman come hard on my cock.
“Come for me, Chrissie,” I urge, moving my kisses to her neck, while my hands spread her buttocks wide apart, one fingertip now dancing against her tight little arsehole too. “Come for me, my darling.”
As I apply a little pressure, my finger sliding into her arse, I feel all her muscles tighten and contract, her pussy gripping around the base of my cock as – with a shudder and a moan – she lets go, coming so hard she’s practically gasping for air.
And the sight and feel of her coming like that finally tips me over the edge too. With a final growl, I let myself go, pumping hard and deep inside her.
Afterwards, she stays there on my lap, cuddling and nuzzling into me, the two of us totally lost in a world of our own, when all of a sudden a discreet bell informs me that we are about to begin our descent.
“Excellent,” I say as she slides off me and we both begin pulling on our clothes. “We’re almost there.”
“This is not a comment on your performance or anything,” she says with a shy smile, “but that didn’t take long. I wonder where on earth we could be.”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” I reply, fastening my seatbelt, ready for the descent.
I wake with a start, leap out of bed and fling open the curtains.
Oh my god. It wasn’t a dream!
“Oh my god, Will!” I gush. “I can see the Eiffel Tower!”
The Eiffel freaking tower! So yeah, you guessed it, he took me to Paris. Paris! I just can’t believe it. I’ve wanted to go here for soooo long. And now we’re actually here, here for the whole weekend, and it looks just as pretty and magical and wonderful as I’ve always imagined. I just can’t believe it.
Will stirs slowly from beneath the sumptuous white sheets. “Bonjour,” he says with a playful smile, white teeth flashing.
“Bonjour to you too,” I reply excitedly. “Will, look, it’s the Eiffel Tower!”
“Do you like it?” he says.
“Like it? I love it. It’s so beautiful, it’s like a fairy tale. This is so perfect. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he says. “I especially requested a room with a view. I want you to have the perfect Paris experience.”
“And I am, I really am,” I squeal, running from the window and jumping back into bed, kissing his handsome face all over in a flurry of excited kisses. “And I want to do it all. Can we have croissants for breakfast? And I want to walk the boulevards. And see Shakespeare & Co., the bookshop. I just have to visit there, too. And the Louvre! Oh, and Notre Dame. And the Sacre Cour, of course. And don’t forget the left bank. Oh my god, there’s just so much, and I want to see it all. We can see it all, can’t we? Please?”
“Whatever you want, my darling,” he says, sitting up and wrapping the sheets around me, pulling me in for a hungry kiss. “But first,” he says, an animal glint dancing in his big black eyes as he lifts me up and throws me back down on the bed, “there’s something I want to see first ...”
And with that he kisses me, running his hands eagerly over my body and under the hem of my negligee.
“But the croissants!” I say, trying to resist him as my body begins to yield. “The exploring!”
“All in good time,” he says, slowly, in that gorgeous English accent that just has me melting every time; it sounds so masterful, it seems to make me submit to whatever he wants. “First I think I’d like to do a little exploring of my own ...”
§
I lie back, kick off my shoes, and feel the silky warm grass beneath my feet. We’ve just had the most delicious picnic of fine French delicacies that Will seemed to magic up, as if from nowhere, and now we’re lying here on this picnic rug and basking in the afternoon sun. I let my head lean back on his broad chest and sigh contentedly.
“This is just the best thing ever,” I whisper.
“I meant it, Chrissie,” he replies tenderly. “I really do want to make you happy. You deserve it. And I’m so glad you’re having a good time.”
“Oh, I am, I really am,” I gush. “It’s just perfect. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. As a little girl, growing up, outside of London this was the place I wanted to see most.”
“I know,” he says.
“Huh?” I say. “How? I never told you.”
“But you did,” he shoots back.
“Okay, when?” I say, totally confused.
“The very first time we sat together,” he replies, “after you’d been in my life for a week. We were on the turquoise sofa and I told you a little bit about my time here, studying at the Sorbonne. You said then how much you wanted to visit Paris. And you looked so passionate about travelling and seeing the world, I guess deep down a part of me knew, even then, that one day soon I was going to take you here.”
As he says the words, my heart practically stops. It’s the most romantic thing, I think I’ve ever heard, and I lift my head off his chest and kiss him.
“Thank you,” I say between kisses. “Thank you, above all, for really listening to me. To what I want. And for remembering. Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
The rest of the afternoon goes by in the most beautiful whirl. I can’t take it all in no matter how hard I try. There’s just so much style and culture everywhere you look. All the people seem like they’re walking round a film set. Every woman looks like they’re playing the part of Parisian Woman, Number One. I’ve never been that much into handbags and shoes or anything, but these women are making me seriously jealous with their utterly amazing style.
But it’s not just the people, either. It’s the buildings, the art. It’s like this whole city just breathes culture and sophistication.
As promised, we go to the Louvre, and it’s just so overwhelmingly amazing. Room after room of heart-stoppingly beautiful pictures, gorgeous furniture, delicate and ancient objects. It seems like we’re in there for hours, drinking it all in, but Will assures me that we haven’t even seen a tenth of their collection yet, and we’ll have to come back to see the rest another time if we want to take the other things on my list in, too.
People aren’t kidding, though. The Mona Lisa really is the size of a postage stamp!
From the Louvre, we wander the Champs Elysees. And I kind of want to skip over this bit, because it makes me sound like a total princess, a real spoiled brat, and that’s not what I am, and I certainly didn’t ask for it, but ... Well, out of the blue, I find myself being ushered into Dior.
§
Which is why, this evening, I’m here in a hotel suite, in Paris, looking at my reflection in a huge gilt mirror, as I zip up my new dress. My brand new Christian Dior dress. Holy cow, I think. This is in-sane.
“It’s just so beautiful, Will,” I say. “Thank you so much. I still can’t believe it.”
“I told you,” he says, looking over at me from the other side of the room as he fixes his tie. “A beautiful girl should always have a Parisian dress. And you’re a beautiful girl. And we are in Pari
s. It would simply be a crime not to have bought it for you.”
The dress is so beautiful, I almost can’t take it. It makes me look so sophisticated. The moment it’s on, I’m instantly transformed into one of those chic stylish Parisian women I’ve been admiring all day long. It’s black, with a Bridget Bardot neckline to show off my shoulders. I never thought I wanted to show off my shoulders before! But it looks great, and I guess I should maybe pay a little more attention to fashion in the future. It has three-quarter length sleeves, and the full skirt ends just below my knee. It’s plain but classic, like something Audrey Hepburn would wear.
(Oh, and okay. And if I’m being totally honest, I suppose I should mention the perfect Chanel pumps on my feet, too.)
“You look beautiful,” Will says, striding over to me, and slipping his arms around my waist from behind.
And as he pulls me into him, kissing the exposed skin of my shoulders, I look at us, together in the mirror and I have to admit, we make a pretty damn good couple. My heart leaps and I try to take a mental selfie of us, of this moment – to burn this image into my brain forever.
§
“So that was Michelin star food, huh?” I say, sitting back in my chair with a contented sigh.
He nods, looking just as happy as I feel right now.
“Thank you for taking me to this amazing hotel,” I continue. “I mean it. The food was incredible. I’m going to remember this meal for the rest of my life.”
“Please, Chrissie,” he replies, holding up a hand. “It’s me that should be thanking you.”
“What the hell do you mean?” I laugh. “I don’t understand. What have I ever done for you? I mean, the jet, Paris, the hotel, the dress, this meal. Everything you’ve done this weekend has been incredible, Will, and all I’ve done is try my best to take it all in without my eyes popping out of my head.”
“I’m not talking about the weekend,” he says softly. “I’m talking about you refusing to give up on me when I shut myself off from you. You, seeing the potential and fighting for it. Before I met you, Chrissie, my life had become so cold, so empty. I told myself that it wasn’t time – that it was too soon to feel this way again. But I know that deep down, I was just scared. Scared of being hurt again. But being with you has shown me that it’s worth it. This is worth the risk. It was no life before. I’m glad you came in and complicated things. With you, me and Tabby, my life is just complicated enough.”
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