by Selena Kitt, Marie Shore, Alex Anders, Terry Towers, Aphrodite Hunt
As soon as Isabel finished her mini bottle of wine, another one appeared.
“I didn’t order this, but thanks, you must’ve read my mind,” Isabel told the attendant.
“It’s from the guy in 4C,” she said.
Isabel looked in his direction with the intent of offering up a thank you nod, but he was reading.
“Handsome, isn’t he?” the flight attendant asked. “He’s a famous photographer or something. Does this route pretty often.”
“L.A. to San Francisco?” Isabel asked.
“No, L.A. to Paris,” she answered.
Their conversation was broken by an announcement over the aircraft’s P.A. Tonight’s flight to Paris was canceled due to mechanical issues. The next flight would be in the morning; airline staff to provide hotel vouchers for Paris-bound passengers. A collective rumble of dissatisfaction filled the plane as the lead flight attendant took over the intercom, offering instructions on baggage, ground transportation to hotels and something about free round-trip travel.
Isabel tuned out. She was to have been in Paris three days ago and Luca was waiting. Things weren’t really strained between the newlyweds – they didn’t know each other well enough yet – but Isabel’s delay put a damper on his plans to show her off to his friends in Paris and then head to Rome in a couchette on the TGV.
Isabel went to freshen her make-up, mostly out of boredom before the plane landed, finding herself in a reverie about her first anal encounter ever, with Luca, who, like many European men reveled in her gasps of pain until her firm, full buttocks opened to the fullness of his long thick cock and he could ride her with abandon.
Isabel pulled her tits out of a lacy bra and fingered them, then brushed them with full palms, like Luca did. She brought one breast to her tongue and strained to lick it, and then the other. This was too much work, but it felt so good that she wanted more – as much pleasure as she could give herself. Isabel then pinched her breasts firmly until the pain reverberated throughout her body. She observed her own arousal in the mirror as her nipples doubled in size and pupils dilated.
She stared at herself intently, feeling a killer orgasm coming on. One hand hiked her skirt and wandered up her thigh, pushing her panties to the side of one labia. She finger fucked herself for a few minutes before her middle and ring fingers found their familiar perch on Isabel’s clit. She fingered herself slowly and deliberately, barely noticing the ‘return to seat’ sign had gone on.
Someone knocked at the door as Isabel climaxed, her face flushed from the wine and the subsiding orgasm, she whispered, “Just a little second.”
“Take your time,” a man’s voice answered.
Needlessly flushing the toilet and running her hands through cold water, Isabel opened the door to find the man from 4C in front of her. He was handsome all right, Isabel thought, for an old guy. Probably forty-five, she guessed, or whatever age her parents were.
“I never did thank you for that drink. Thanks.”
He really was good-looking, Isabel thought. That flight attendant probably caught his eye more than once. They were about the same age, she guessed.
Isabel recognized the slightest hint of Dolce & Gabbana that lingered from 4C. Although she had lost her virginity at seventeen, it wasn’t until Luca that she started noticing the expanse of men, in general, as possible sexual partners. It was as if that with the first pain at the hand of her new husband, a whole new world of sensuality opened up to her.
4C smiled. “My pleasure.”
He could tell, Isabel thought. He must have known what she was up to which is why he so meticulously sized up her eyes and breasts as she inched by him. She looked back to see if he was watching her walk back to her seat. Just in case, she added a little swing to her hips, not too much, she thought, just enough to make it worth his while. He was. She flashed a sweet and seductive smile. She wasn’t sure why, but she did it anyway.
She wondered if he could smell the feminine juices puddling in her panties as she noticed his cologne. Not likely, she concluded, counting off the hours until Luca and her clandestine honeymoon.
On his way back, 4C paused next to Isabel’s seat long enough to give her a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. Innocent enough, it sent an unexpected shiver of excitement through her.
As the plane landed, Isabel texted Luca, advising him of her latest delay – this time not her fault. This excuse was verifiable: plane malfunction. Isabel had zoned out watching the luggage conveyer belt go around when a text came in, “You’re looking for a spanking!”
She wrote back, “Yes, I am. I want it now.”
4C walked up to Isabel, “Are you getting off here?”
Amused at the timely double entendre, Isabel replied, “Nope. On my way to Paris.”
“Me, too,” 4C said. “Wanna catch a bite to eat? Looks like we’re here for a while.”
“I was hoping to get into the city, considering that there’s plenty of time to kill,” Isabel said.
“I’ll take you. My car’s parked here.”
“I thought you said you were going to Paris?”
“I am.”
“So how is your car here when you got on the plane in LA?” Isabel asked.
“I live in Tiberon. I was in LA for the day,” he said.
“Got it. So, you’re a local.”
“Something like that. I moved up here about ten years ago. Wanted to see what life on a houseboat was like and get out of the smog.”
“So how is it?”
“Cramped, but nice. So do you have a favorite restaurant up here?” he asked.
“Not really, I kind of just play it by ear.”
“Trust me?”
“Enough to let you take me to dinner.” By now it was somewhere in the middle of the night in Paris and Luca was fast asleep and the night was young in San Francisco.
Isabel kept a brisk pace with 4C to his black Audi. “Very dad,” Isabel thought. She liked the new car smell and the fact he opened the door for her and caught a good look at her legs as she crossed them.
Isabel watched 4C take off his jacket for the first time and routinely fold and place it on the back seat. Now that she got a better whiff. it was Dolce, mixed with the intoxicating man smell she first noticed on Luca. She wondered if it was something only European men had, because she had no recollection of the smell on the frat boys at college, or, if it was just her growing up.
Isabel sized up distinguished 4C and made an item-by-item mental comparison of Luca’s long, lean back to the massive shoulders of this man, whose name she did not yet know. Her eyes wandered down the thick of his arms, across his muscular chest and flat stomach and momentarily landed on the bulge in his well-worn jeans. Inviting, Isabel thought. What had gotten into her anyway? she wondered. Good thing 4C couldn’t read her thoughts, Isabel concluded.
“I’m Jack, by the way,” 4C said.
“Isabel.”
“So what’s in Paris for you, Jack?”
“Work.”
“And you?”
“My ah, well, I guess you could say my husband.”
“Lucky guy.”
“It’s not exactly like that.”
“Like what?”
“Well. Not Married. Married. He’s my boyfriend and he needed a Green Card so I’m heading to Europe to meet his family and stage a wedding. My parents don’t know and I don’t think they’ll let this one slide if they find out,” Isabel said.
“I see,” Jack said, “So, what do you feel like eating?”
“Fish,” Isabel said.
“Okay. That’s easy.”
Jack took the quick scenic route to Ca’ del Bello, a tiny Italian restaurant where Chef Antonio made flavored grappa in the shed behind the outdoor dining patio and herb garden. By now, the dinner crowd had thinned out, leaving the patio to Jack and Isabel.
“Salve, Jack. Good to see you and the signorina,” Antonio said.
“Signora,” Isabel corrected. Antonio shrugged.
/> “Aperitivi?”
“Two Aperol completi, Trust me, Isabel,” Jack ordered.
She liked his take control attitude. As they devoured Chef Antonio’s linguine di frutti di mare and the most succulent whitefish ever – Dorata – and more wine. By the final nightcaps of grappa, Chef Antonio hugged Jack goodbye and kissed the little signora on her hand with feigned reverence, leaving the couple to enjoy the patio and view of the San Francisco Bay to themselves. They were alone and the restaurant was now officially closed. Jack knew his way out through the back gate. This was not his first rodeo at Ca’ del Bello.
Between stories of shooting this or that in distant locations all over the world, Isabel learned Jack was married with a couple of grown kids. She guessed he was onto his second wife, probably a trophy one this time. Isabel also guessed she wouldn’t be much older than her. She wanted to know what kind of assignment he was heading to in Paris, but he didn’t seem to want to talk much about it. He learned Isabel worked as a singing waitress with hopes of landing an internship at an ad agency in the fall and her new husband was an aspiring artist – but none of this really mattered right here and now.
By the time the wine started doing its wonders, Jack brushed Isabel’s neck with the tips of his fingers and then across the top of her neckline. She watched his hand glide over the top of her blouse and felt her nipples hardening. To watch or respond? she wondered as he reached under her blouse to expose one of her breasts as she had done herself just hours before.
Her hand feebly wandered toward his erect penis straining against his jeans and landed on his thigh. He put his hand on top of hers and moved it onto his bulge. Isabel let out an accidental gasp when she felt the enormity of his erection. Jack licked Isabel’s firm breast then sucked and bit it. He pinched the other one lightly, then more firmly until Isabel moaned openly. He unbuttoned her blouse and left her bra to push up her exposed breasts.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
Isabel complied. The tone was pleasantly familiar. Firm. Direct. She had no choice but to obey.
Jack knelt, deliberately breathing in and out through the thin cotton of her skirt. The warmth of his breath on her pussy and watching Jack breathe in her youth and the smell of her earlier excretions sent waves of excitement through Isabel.
She waited for the next order as she enjoyed the feel of her vulva swelling while his big, strong hand pushed aside her panties and firmly massaged her from the inside. Jack was intent on finding Isabel’s G-spot and when he did, all it took was a few strokes until Isabel came in his hand, pushing against him until her orgasm peaked and resolved.
He ordered her to bend over the table, spread her legs and pull her cheeks and vulva open so he could see. She obeyed. He took a handful of ice, rubbed it on her ass, letting it melt against her warm skin and shoved a few cubes into her vagina. He then spanked her, first softly and then harder until she was sobbing. Without a moment to breathe, he then rammed his huge cock into her pussy that had tightened from the ice.
Jack slowed down, deliberately pushing himself more and more deeply into her, first slowly, then faster and alternating rhythm to surprise her with more spanking. He withdrew, continuing to stroke himself until he pulled the belt from his jeans. He rubbed Isabel’s thighs and buttocks with the belt before he drew it back and landed a nice welt across both cheeks. He landed the next few strokes to either side of the first mark, reveling in his precision, enjoying the visual.
“Fuck me,” she begged, to stop the pain.
“Do you want this?” Jack asked.
“Yes. Please. Yes.”
“Kneel.”
Isabel obeyed.
Jack grabbed her hair, pulling it lightly, then caressing it. He rubbed his cock, then grabbed a big handful of hair in one fist and ordered Isabel to open her mouth. She did. He fucked her in the mouth until he was on the verge of coming. Isabel could taste the salty precum and she readied herself for the explosion that was imminent in her mouth. She reached down to masturbate with one hand as Jack pumped into her and she squeezed the root of his dick in her free hand.
Jack wanted something else. He wanted to watch this little thing come front of his eyes. He pulled his penis out of her mouth and laid her on the ground on a table cloth. He tied her hands back with his belt and ordered her to lay still. He pulled off her skirt and unlatched her bra, exposing the fullness of her perky breasts and youthful musculature. For a moment he just watched her breathe in and out, willfully immobilized by his belt with her brown hair strewn on the grass and bricks of the patio.
Isabel watched Jack shed his jeans and t-shirt to expose his muscular stomach, shoulders, legs and caught a glimpse of strong, tight glutes. She wanted it all, but, she liked this new game. She was his captive and his to do with as he pleased. She was dying to see what he would do next and felt her pussy itching for another orgasm. It didn’t matter that it was chilly outside or anyone could wander back into the patio at any time. In fact, she wondered what Luca would think or do if he were watching this right now.
Jack rubbed his penis on Isabel’s breasts. He then licked and pinched until he felt her pussy swell again. He teased her clit with the tip of his penis and with his hands before he sucked her pussy, tickling her clit with the tip of his tongue and the length of her vulva. He first inserted one, then two, then three fingers in her vagina, rubbing her G-spot again before he entered her with his penis, pulling it completely out and deliberately pushing it in as deeply as possible dozens of times until Isabel begged him to come as she neared her climax. Isabel felt Jack constrict a second before she was filled with his thick hot cum and they both lay amid the cobblestones and moss of the Ca’ del Bello patio, looking up at the San Francisco moon. Isabel shivered, the sex and alcohol high abated a little as Jack covered her with his jacket and gathered their clothes.
Jack plopped a Franklin onto the table and left with the rest of the grappa. Neither said a word as they navigated the narrow path out of the courtyard onto a back street which led to Jack’s car. Isabel walked barefoot, heels in hand, while Jack cleared the path and lit the way with his iPhone. She grabbed a swig of Grappa as she settled into the ride to who-knows-where. The digital display announced 12:05 a.m. Luca was already awake and the only reason he hadn’t yet texted or called yet was because in his mind’s eye she was somewhere in transit, but not to a houseboat in Tiburon.
“Where to?” Jack asked.
“Bed,” Isabel quipped with half a smile, wanting to sound older and more worldly than her years.
“Sounds good.” Jack smiled, turning onto a scenic road leading to docks and his houseboat. Isabel was thinking hot shower and her own bed at the comp’ed Marriott. But better than that was the chance to again get pummeled by the hottest older man on the planet. She reveled in the quaintness of picturesque surroundings as she wondered what he would do next.
His houseboat was the first in a line of many. A small walkway led to a large plank and outdoor deck from which one could enter through either front or back door. It was bigger than Isabel expected with lots of open space and perfectly polished wood floors leading to a bedroom and office/studio. The art was big and modern and the furniture was large, Scandinavian and expensive. Between the office and bedroom was a typically spacious wine cooler. NorCal, Isabel thought. They’re into their wine.
“Make yourself at home,” Jack said.
“Hungry, thirsty? Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good but I could use a shower,” Isabel said.
“I can do better than that. Check this out,” Jack said revealing a pristine Jacuzzi.
“Looks yummy.”
Jack did a quick rinse of the tub, threw in a handful of bath salts and dimmed the lights.
“It’s all yours. Can I get you a glass of wine, water, anything?”
“Maybe some wine,” Isabel said.
Jack came back with a bottle of Gavi di Gavi. He poured one glass for Isabel, another for himself and watched as she sipped
her wine and tested the percolating water with her toes. He left for a moment and came back with huge, fluffy bath towels and a turquoise silk kimono.
“This looks like it’s about your size,” Jack said as he hung it next to the tub.
Without ceremony, Isabel left her clothes in a pile and melted into the bath, immersing completely, and letting the jets pound her neck, hair, feet and limbs. She came up for a few sips of wine and then went back under to play mermaid while Jack checked his email long enough to give the girl some space. Make-up off and playing in his tub, Isabel took on an even more girlish appeal than when she was perfectly dressed and coiffed for her trans-Atlantic flight.
Little did she know, Jack was sneaking peeks of her bathing, particularly when she found that special jet. At first, Isabel had the bright idea if she positioned her pussy where the super jet could flood her vagina it would flush out Jack’s cum and she would be squeaky clean for her flight tomorrow, no one knowing of her little indiscretion. Then, it dawned on her she would have to revisit the Jacuzzi or simply take her chances because the night wasn’t over yet. As the jet took its effect on the right place, Jack was enjoying spying in his new-found Lolita evoking pleasure from a jet in his oversized tub. Bam. Jack was fully erect again.
Jack stepped into the tub, penis in the direction of Isabel’s mouth as he bent over to scrub her back. She took the unwritten invitation and wrapped both hands around Jack’s penis and deep throated him. He watched the scene in a mirror on the other side of the bathroom exciting him even more.
Isabel stepped closer to her favorite jet and positioned her clit over it, offering her ass to Jack who immediately licked the star-shaped opening until he could get a finger, then two into it. Once he was sure Isabel’s ass could accommodate the enormity of his cock, he pushed the tip into the perimeter, easing his way into her ass until he could glide in and out of her with relative ease. Isabel moaned in pain for a few moments finding relief from the mounting jet-induced orgasm. Jack, turned on more, entered her forcefully.
Within minutes, Jack had Isabel by her tiny waist as he thrust wildly inside her. He grabbed her entire mound in his palm as he pounded her over and over again until he came. Selfish? Maybe. But Isabel loved it. Exhausted, she worked toward the orgasm Jack distracted with his violent thrusting. It was her turn. Jack licked her pussy until she moaned in ecstasy.