by Jade Sinner
I keep talking, telling him about Helen, my crazy grandmother, how she loves to play games, especially cards and how she's ruthless. "She doesn't like to lose."
"I like her," he says.
"The older she gets, the more direct she is. So don't be surprised if she asks you a million questions."
As we pull into the private airstrip, Duncan traces the edge of my neckline. "I think I need to ask some more questions."
His touch has me distracted. "Oh, OK."
"This is very important, so be honest."
"Yes?"
"Since you've been dating a CEO for the last five months, and since he has access to private planes, has he, Miss Jones, made you a member of the mile-high club?"
I grin. "No, Mr. Willis, you see, my boyfriend is kinda a jerk. Five months and he's never once taken me on one of his planes."
The car stops and he reaches for my hand. "I'd tell you to break up with that dick, but there's still time to rectify that issue. I hear the club is still accepting new members."
I shrug. "You asked if my current boyfriend has made me a member, not if I am a member."
Duncan's steps slow. His green eyes blaze as he asks, "And?"
I crack a smile that I feel all the way to my eyes. "And...I'm not a member."
Once we're seated in big leather chairs, our seatbelts secured, Duncan reaches into the breast pocket of his coat and removes a small silk rose.
"What is this for?"
"I may not get to pick all the flowers, but one by one I'm going to have a bouquet. Mile-high is the first one."
"Pretend," I mumble just before his lips crash with mine and his fingers splay over my thigh.
I drop the flower as he moves his hand higher. "Kimbra, no promises, but for this weekend, I'll be the best boyfriend you've ever had. I'm ready to see if my imagination has been even close when it comes to what's under your skirt."
"Pretend." The word is barely audible.
"My cock isn't pretending."
She's fucking perfect. The small whimper as I surprised her with a kiss in the elevator. The way her tits move with her exaggerated breaths.
Once we're in the air, I tell the attendant to leave us alone and zero my gaze in on Kimbra. She's sitting back, looking out the window, rolling the small silk rose between her fingertips.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and then lean toward her and unbuckle hers. When her blue eyes open wide, I lay it on the line. I've never been a man who pussyfooted around when it came to sex. I've known what I wanted and I've taken it. Never forcibly, but it was never denied me. Yet with Kimbra I don't want this weekend to ruin our work relationship. Fuck! For the first time I can remember, I want both.
I tower above her, my hands on the arm rests, our faces close. Looking down at the flower, I say, "For the rest of this weekend, no more saying pretend."
She swallows.
"Think of it as a fantasy."
"A fantasy?"
"My fantasy. One I've thought about, one that has turned me from hard to steel as I beat-off in my bed or shower."
Kimbra gasps.
"Maybe it's only been me. Maybe you've never thought about my dick inside of you."
Again, her chest heaves as redness blotches from the scooped neck of her blouse up her neck. Her tongue darts to her lip.
"Tell me, Kimbra, is fucking your tight, warm pussy only my fantasy?"
"D-Duncan..."
I trail a touch from the sensitive skin behind her ear to the edge of her blouse. "Yes or no?"
She moves her head from side to side before her eyes lower.
The loss of her blue stare leaves me lonely and wanting. I lift her chin with one hand and reach for the rose with the other. Let my bouquet begin. "So you've imagined it too?"
"Yes." Her answer is soft, but it's all I need.
"Come with me, Kimbra. No one's going to believe that we've been together for five months if we don't do something about this tension, if you don't get that membership." She stands. "You understand what I'm saying?"
She squares her shoulders. "Yes."
"The thing is...I believe the mile-high rules state that it takes multiple fucks to be considered a lifetime member."
Her breathing deepens. I reach for the zipper on the side of her skirt, and tug. The gray material falls to the floor, and I suck in a breath. Her panties aren't really panties but a thong: a small triangle of lace with skimpy strings, one going up her ass. I take off my jacket and loosen my tie as she stands still, watching. "Lift your arms, Miss Jones. I need to see your tits."
A smile breaks across her cheeks. "No, Mr. Willis, not until I remove your shirt."
No?
I can't remember the last time a woman said that word. If I was hard before, I'm a fucking rock now. Instead of answering, I nod as she pulls my necktie from its knot. Then, button by button, she opens my shirt. With each second she takes, paying special attention to my cufflinks—Why the fuck do I wear those things? —I become more and more uncomfortable. If she takes much longer, I think I'll explode. By the time my chest is bare, my cock is leaking cum.
Next she lifts her arms and I raise her blue blouse. Her bra is the same color, matching the small triangle of lace covering her pussy. It's erotic as shit and I want it gone.
Before I can undo her bra, Kimbra reaches for my belt, the button on my pants, and the zipper.
Fuck!
Kicking off my shoes, I stand in my boxer briefs, my erection peeking from the waistband, too large to stay contained.
Kimbra hisses as she runs her hand over my cock.
Suddenly the plane pitches and Kimbra squeals. I pull her close as we steady our stance. "There are so many things I want to do to you." I reach for her bra, unsnap the strap, and free her fucking huge tits. With one arm holding her steady, I pull the straps loose and cup the round tit. When I roll her hard nipple, Kimbra whimpers and her head falls backward. I lead her toward the couch along the side of the cabin. Instead of laying her down, I turn her and direct her hands to the back of the couch, leaving her round ass on display.
To my excitement, as I spread her legs apart, the air fills with more of her whimpers and on her thighs is the evidence, her glistening cum, showing me that she's as ready for this as I am.
I dip my hand between her folds, my finger purposely stroking from her clit to her tight puckered hole. Taking my finger to my lips, I hum, noisily slurping her cum, coating my tongue with her sweet honey. I tip my lips toward her ear. "You taste fucking fantastic. Tonight, in your bedroom, I want you to know I plan on burying my face in your pussy. I plan on making you scream out my name so that your entire family knows that you're not only dating, but coming apart right under their roof."
"D-Duncan," she stutters.
"Yeah, sweetheart, you can scream my name. But right now, if I don't put my cock in that tight cunt, I'm going to cum all over your ass, and while I like the idea of that too, right now I need to be inside of you."
"Five months is a long time to wait," she says.
Motherfucker. It's been two years. Two years since she walked through the door of Buchanan and Willis Pharmaceuticals.
A growl comes from my soul as I rub the cum-covered head of my cock against her entrance and thrust deep into her warm, slippery cunt. Her pussy tightens, squeezing me as I push again, harder and deeper.
"Fuck!" Kimbra yells, her fingers blanching and nails biting into the soft leather of the couch. She'd said that fuck was her favorite word, and I love hearing it fall from her lips.
Harder and harder I rut. Kimbra Jones has been my fantasy for two years and being inside of her is like nothing I've ever done. In and out, I bury my cock in her warm haven. She pushes back against me until my balls slap her thighs and we fall into a magical rhythm. The cabin fills with whimpers, moans, and cuss words as we both climb higher. Higher than any mountain. Higher than any plane. We're on the top of the fucking world when her cunt strangles me and a stream of 'Fucks' flies from her lips. Wave
after wave pulls on my cock as she comes undone. Her head falls back against my shoulder and lips search for mine. As our tongues tangle the pressure builds. Within no time I'm cumming too, filling her hole, our cum seeping from where we're connected and down her legs.
My knees buckle as I fall forward, face first toward the couch. Duncan was better than any man. Better than every man, I imagine. It's not like I've fucked hundreds, not even ten. Close, but not ten. I do a mental count. No. Duncan is seven. But with just one fuck he's jumped to number one.
How will I walk away from this weekend?
As he pulls out and my legs quiver, I begin to wonder how I'll walk, period.
Warm lips find my neck, my shoulder, and my back. "That was—"
"Fucking amazing," I say, red filling my cheeks.
Duncan turns me around so that I'm sitting on the soft couch as he kneels between my legs. I want to be embarrassed about what just happened, about the fact that my boss is staring at my pussy, the one filled with his cum. I think I should be, but I'm not. Instead, I grin and reach for his chin, bringing his sexy green gaze from my soaking wet cunt to my eyes. "Do you like what you see?"
His chin is rough in my grasp as his lips move to a grin. "I fucking love what I see. You have the pinkest, sexiest pussy I've ever seen. And seeing it with my cum dripping out, onto the couch...Damn, the next time I'm in this plane it'll be the only thing I'll be able to think about."
He spreads my legs farther. "I should let you rest, but Indiana is too damn close to New York and like you said, five months is a long time to wait." With that, he leans in. "You smell so damn good."
Before I can speak, his tongue laps at our mixture of cum. He slurps as he cleans me, licking and teasing. It's a never-ending process as his mouth makes me cum more and more.
"God! Duncan!" I yell as he brings me to orgasm again, my hands gripping his jet-black hair. I've imagined this scene a thousand times, but it wasn't in a plane.
Suddenly he stands, flips my ankles to the couch and lies on top of me. "Sweetheart, I have to be in you one more time. I have to. If I don't..."
I reach for his cock and direct the hard shaft to the entrance of my pussy. "I want you there."
He sucks one of my nipples as he pounds his dick deep inside of me.
I've never been filled like Duncan Willis fills me. I've never felt the pressure and the stretch that hurts while at the same time feels like heaven. My entire body overflows with waves of pleasure as he drives in, over and over. When I open my eyes, I see his face contort. His expression equals mine, pain and pleasure mixing as his orgasm builds. For the second time, we cum together and he fills me with his seed.
I should probably worry about all the women he's been with. But at that moment, I don't want to think about it. And since I've been on birth control since I was sixteen, pregnancy isn't an issue. Though it isn't a concern, for the first time I actually entertain the thought of being pregnant, of wanting to carry someone's baby inside of me. I've never wanted that before.
Now I do.
"Pretend," I say quietly as Duncan collapses on top of me, his hard, toned chest covering me and smashing my boobs.
"Fantasy," he corrects.
"Fantasy is pretend." I don't say it out loud. It's just to remind myself that this fantasy weekend won't last. Because with everything inside of me, I want it to.
I'm in an alternate universe and it's every fantasy I never knew I had.
What CEO of a billion-dollar company dreams of enjoying a small farm in the middle of nowhere? Who imagines waking in a small bedroom, complete with a canopy bed and sunshine streaming through pink curtains, as birds sing? What owner of a 10,000-square-foot penthouse with a to-die-for view of the Empire State Building enjoys the homeyness of an 100-year-old, 3,000-square-foot farmhouse, with a wraparound porch, and the view of cornfields, the small green plants breaking up through the ground in hundreds of thousands of rows?
Sitting with a cup of steaming black coffee, I listen to Kimbra and her brother Kevin bicker back and forth as they help their mother in the large kitchen. Eggs and bacon are frying while toast is popping. Although Kimbra's dad, Oscar, is talking, I can't concentrate on anything but Kimbra—Kimberly Ann. That's what everyone here calls her.
"So he's not made up? When Mom said your boyfriend's name wasn't Timothy, but Duncan, and you didn't want him in the wedding, Susan and I decided he wasn't real. We were sure you'd have some reason why at the last minute he couldn't attend."
Kevin is whispering, but he's about as good at that as he is at being nice to his sister.
"Shut up!" Kimbra whispers back. "Obviously he's real."
"He's real, alright. Last night I thought your old bed was going to collapse."
Kimbra's eyes flash to me. And though I look down at my coffee and pray her dad isn't listening, the gleam in her expression makes my cock twitch with the memories of the night before.
I'd done what I'd told her I would do. After she introduced me to her family and we endured an eight-course meal including a barrage of family stories designed mostly to embarrass Kimbra, we tried to excuse ourselves, claiming we were tired from work and the trip.
Kimbra's grandma, Helen, wouldn't hear of it. She insisted the entire family gather in the kitchen and play five-card stud and seven-card draw. Thank God we were only playing for pennies, otherwise the woman would have taken my company and my penthouse. Kimbra wasn't kidding when she said her grandma was ruthless. She's also hilarious. I can't remember when I laughed as much.
Once we were finally alone in her little girly room, I found myself enthralled.
In a matter of hours Kimbra had become someone else. No longer the HR person who commands a boardroom of employees, once in her bedroom, Kimbra became someone with feelings and dreams. Though I enjoyed her family, I hated hearing her mom and grandma question Kimbra's choices about her future. I detested her brother's jokes and put-downs. I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and take it all away.
We stop inside the bedroom. The window is open with a breeze blowing the pink curtains.
"I bet you're not used to any of this," she says with a sadness in her tone that I can't identify, but instantly dislike.
I step closer and wrap my arms around her. "Used to what? A pink canopy bed? You might not know this about me, since I've been such an awful boyfriend for the last five months, but I like pink. I have a pink canopy bed in my penthouse."
Kimbra's blue eyes open in amazement. "No you don't."
"How do you know? Have you been sneaking into my place?"
Her cheeks rise as her expression fills with amusement. "I didn't mean the room. Although I doubt you imagined spending the weekend in a 1990's flashback." She looks over to posters of boy bands that still decorate her walls. "I meant them. They all talk, constantly, all the time."
I tilt my head. "I like them, except when they upset you."
Her smile fades. "They don't. They mean well."
"And Kevin?"
"It's what we do. I call him a jerk-face and he calls me a bitch. We mean it lovingly."
I caress her cheek. "He's jealous."
Kimbra sighs and steps away, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Hardly. No one here is jealous of me. They all think I'm crazy. They all live perfect lives. Married lives. Lives with babies and dogs."
I walk closer, taking her in. After her initiation into the mile-high club, Kimbra changed from her work clothes into jeans and a bright blue shirt that hangs off her slender shoulder. It is casual and sexy. I can’t resist finding out if she is wearing a bra, seeing as her shoulder is bare. Sadly it's there, a strapless one. I reach under the blue material and unsnap it.
Her eyes sparkle as they narrow. "What are you doing?"
"I'm freeing those gorgeous tits. They've been held captive in that bra long enough. And don't tell me that no one's jealous. You're beautiful with curves and"—I pull the clip from her hair, letting it fall down her back—"are living your dreams. Ke
vin's stuck back here in Indiana running a farm."
She shrugs. "It isn't that bad back here. It's what Kevin always wanted to do. He never wanted to move away. Neither did Susan. It's what my parents did and what they expected me to do. Tomorrow you'll meet more family and Saturday—" She lies back, sighs, and stares up at the underside of the canopy. "—you'll meet them all. Then you'll know why I'm crazy."
"You're not crazy. You're fun and multidimensional. I love seeing this side of you and"—I reach for the button on her jeans—"I'm ready to see another side of you."
"Duncan?"
"I told you, Kimbra, what I was going to do to you in your bedroom." I undo the button and lower the zipper. Without hesitation she lifts her hips as she throws her arm over her eyes. Once I have her jeans and skimpy excuse for panties removed, I stand up and move her arm. "No, you're going to watch." Her eyes widen. "Yes, you're going to watch me go down on you. Watch how fucking great you taste, watch me devour your pussy, as I lick and bite." I smile as her hips writhe. "I'm going to make you scream my name and everyone in this house will be jealous of you, even your grandma."
Kimbra smiles. "Yeah, Grandma really likes you."
I resume my place between her thighs, pushing them farther and farther apart until her pussy lips part and I can see her hole. With just my words, she's dripping cum, and it's the most fucking beautiful sight I've ever seen.
"Kimbra, this view will never get old." I stretch out my tongue and lap her cum, the creamy juice is better than any dessert her mother has downstairs.
"Oh."
I hold her hips as she tries to buck. "No, hold still and let me dig in."
"Fuck." Her words are muffled.
When I look up, our eyes meet. Then I see the small stuffed dog she's holding, its paw is in her mouth. At least she's doing as I said and watching. Again and again I lap and suck. Small nips at her pussy, her cunt, and her thighs. Using my fingers I work her like an instrument, stringing her tighter and tighter. It's when I plunge one finger and then two in her tight hole that she loses it. Cum covers my face, my chin. It was just like I promised.
