by Scott, Ada
I held back my gag reflex as long as I could. I could feel my cheeks going red and a tear or two soaked into the sleep mask, and still my unseen partner fucked my face with no signs of slowing down.
Eventually I coughed and gagged and he pulled out, slapping my face with his cock again as I gasped for air. This time there were no small spots of cooling pre-cum; his cock was slick and he was making a mess of me.
“K… k… k…” I panted.
“What’s that?”
I struggled to catch my breath and licked my trembling lips. My pussy was on fire with the need to be satisfied. This was scary, but it was hard to remember ever having been more turned on.
I shook my head.
“That’s right, cock slave.”
He pushed his thickness back into my mouth and resumed his former pace straight away. After that brief time out in the air, his cock felt cool for a few strokes, but between my mouth and all that throbbing energy inside, it soon warmed up again.
The impact on the back of my throat still made my eyes water, and I still coughed around it a few times, but the struggle to time my gasps for air and how good it felt occupied most of my consciousness. My whole world was being taken over by hard-pounding cock and growing euphoria.
My legs were spread wide open when I felt a hand under my skirt again. I didn’t have the concentration to fight him, so my thighs stayed well apart as his fingertips slipped under the elastic band of my panties, and delved between my sopping wet folds.
I lost control and moaned loudly around his cock, as much as each squelching thrust allowed me to. With his fist still gripping my hair so tightly that my scalp burned a little and his other hand between my legs, I had a vision of him riding my mouth like a cowboy in the rodeo, and my pussy squeezed his finger in response.
He pulled out of my pussy and, now that his finger was well-coated in my juices, he flicked it back and forth across my clit. Bound and trapped under him, impaled on his cock, I lost my freakin’ mind.
My hips gyrated and I writhed in ecstasy, almost feeling like my body was trying to flee his stimulation and push against it even harder at the same time because it was too much. No matter what I did, he followed my movements, never relenting in his assault on my little go-button.
His finger was moving so fast I was almost delirious. It was as if all the pleasure in the world had been stolen and concentrated on me for a few moments.
My orgasm hit me like an earthquake, shaking my body, and I moaned longer and more lustily than I had so far in this pleasurable ordeal. Something about that seemed to relax my throat and on the next thrust, that thick cock just kept sliding and sliding until I could feel it down there, so deep.
Rendered uncoordinated as a newborn deer by my climax, I tried to pull back, but the man on top of me was in charge, and his only interest was in forcing more cock into me, and making sure that every last ounce of ecstasy was eked out of my orgasm.
My face went deep red as the euphoria thrummed around my body and the need for oxygen increased. One by one, my muscles clenched up, holding the tail end of my climax inside them, prolonging my orgasm longer than I would have dreamed possible.
I must have had almost his entire dick down my throat, still locked in the throes of pleasure, when the world started getting a little fuzzy around the edges. With the mask on and the movement of the plane around me, I couldn’t be sure if I lost consciousness, but with all that sensation coursing through me, I was distinctly aware of my body. And that incredible thickness in my throat.
Suddenly, cool air was filling my lungs and I heard myself gasping through a newly cleared airway. My assailant was moving between my legs and I felt my panties being roughly tugged down my calves.
Everything swam back into focus when he flipped me over on to my stomach and crouched over me. His heavy cock rested between my ass cheeks, sliding with the help of my saliva and his pre-cum every time our bodies shifted. It pressed against me even harder when I felt him stuffing pillows under my hips.
“Fuck yeah. Get that ass up. I’m gonna fuckin’ own you.”
As soon as my pussy was presented to his satisfaction, I felt him prop his hips up and aim his cock between my still-quivering labia. His thickness pushed my teen petals aside and put pressure against my entrance.
“Uhn!” I grunted with effort as he slammed his entire length into me to the hilt.
If I hadn’t been so wet, if his cock hadn’t been so well-prepared by that vigorous face-fucking, he wouldn’t have been able to get all the way in that fast, he never had before. As it was, he clamped his hand over my mouth again, tucked my skirt between our bodies to muffle the sound of his pelvis slapping against my ass, and jack-hammered into me hard enough that I wouldn’t have been surprised if the passengers back in economy could feel the shaking.
I moaned against his hand as he leaned into his fucking and almost flattened me out again, despite the pillows pushing my pussy back up against him. Those long hard strokes alternated between filling me up completely and leaving me feeling empty and desperate for more.
Despite having only just survived the last orgasm, I could feel another one threatening to build up already. He was right, for the time being, I was a slave and his cock was my master.
Apparently satisfied that I had weathered the initial storm and could be trusted not to scream, he reached under me and gripped my shoulder with one hand, holding me in place. His other hand slid under one breast, squeezing and kneading me as much as he could in the confined space.
With his dominant position over my body secured, he fucked me with manic intensity. Alternating between long, straight, powerful strokes and slower grinding motions, his cock thrust in at varying angles, leaving no part of my eager depths unattended for long.
My second climax of the encounter began to make good on its threat and my moans started getting louder again. I turned my head to press my face into my upper arm, trying to stifle every slutty sound that wanted to burst out of my mouth.
It wasn’t perfect, but it helped, and only just in time. My pussy muscles first fluttered and then clamped down on the thick cock sawing in and out of it, increasing the powerful sensations.
I felt my toes curling, my thighs quivering and the seatbelt dug into my wrists as I strained against it. I squeezed my eyes shut against the flashes of color bursting in front of me. One of my nipples rubbed against the bed, the other against the palm of his hand every time he pounded into me, and electric ecstasy pulsed through my body with every impact.
Hot semen filled my pussy, fueling my orgasm like throwing gasoline on a fire, a fresh splash at the apex of every thrust. All that sperm for me. All that dick for me.
My unseen visitor was holding me in a crushing grip. It was like being in the clutches of a machine made for fucking as he took all the satisfaction he could. It should have been illegal for there to be this much pleasure in the world. Technically, I supposed this was illegal.
Questions of legality aside, I had nothing left to give by the time my orgasm faded away. Even Austin was breathing a little faster than normal as he rested on top of me.
Basking in the afterglow, I felt like I was floating, certainly more than simply being on a plane could account for, and licked my lips. It could be disastrous to drift off like this.
“Kimura,” I whispered.
The sleep mask was whipped off and I looked up to see Austin there. I gave him a tired smile and a little squeeze of his still-hard cock, which was still buried to the hilt inside of me.
He smiled back wordlessly and untied my hands, which had fallen asleep during our festivities. After dealing with an intense bout of pins and needles, we rearranged ourselves into a more respectable state and fell asleep.
We never did find my panties though.
Chapter 16
Skylar
While Austin was pulling our luggage off the conveyor belt in the baggage claim area, I found myself standing next to the old lady from first class. She
looked like a Vegas veteran if ever I saw one.
“Great flight, wasn’t it? I’ve never been in first class before.”
“Oh yes. The only problem I find is that the air hostesses are a little too attentive. Sometimes it seems like you can’t go five minutes without somebody asking you if you want another drink or something.”
“Hmmm, I suppose,” I said.
“Sometimes I pretend to be deaf or asleep so they’ll leave me alone. You’d be surprised what people say or do when they think I’m oblivious.”
My eyes went wide and I felt myself going pale despite the Nevada heat seeping into the airport. The old lady dragged her suitcase on to her baggage cart, then stood up as tall as she could to look me over.
“Honey, if I had a flight as rough as you, I probably would have broken a hip.”
“I… I’m so-“
She pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her handbag that were so big they bordered on novelty-size. Pausing for a moment, she struck a pose as if she was in a movie trailer.
“What happens in Vegas,” she said and left without waiting for my stammered apology.
When I told Austin what the old lady had said, he laughed so hard that he almost cried. Even on the ride to the hotel, he failed to contain himself a couple times as he thought about it.
After we caught a few hours’ sleep, I was mostly left to my own devices for the next couple of days. Austin spent the majority of his time with his coach, Ross, in the final preparations for his fight with Ernesto Sanchez.
Las Vegas was blazing hot, and my heart sank whenever I came to the edge of an air-conditioned area. It was so intense that I didn’t even go to the other side of Las Vegas Boulevard while the sun was still up, it was just too far!
Thankfully there was plenty to explore on the east side of the strip too. On the day of the fight, I bought myself a little black dress to wear for the evening with a credit card Austin gave me.
It was the perfect mix of classy and sexy, and I was this close to squealing when I did a little turn for myself in front of the mirror in the fitting room. I couldn’t wait to show it off for Austin.
NHBFC seated me with half of the wives and girlfriends of fighters in the event. Having learned their lesson previously, the wives and girlfriends of the opponents were seated on the opposite side of the decagon.
It was so crazy to be out there in the crowd with all the lights and noise, instead of underneath it all, working myself ragged trying not to lose my job. The energy was incredible, and the announcer and ring girls were feeding that energy even more as we all waited for the bouts to begin.
Since Austin was in the main event, I was somehow instantly promoted to the highest level of this clique of women. One of them I recognized from my wedding, and they all wanted to see my ring and ask if Austin had truly turned over a new leaf.
Although they were all really friendly, I got along most easily with a nice girl named Emily, whose boyfriend was making his debut in the middleweight class tonight. We bounced up and down together when he won a war of attrition, and her fingernails dug into my arm almost as hard as mine dug into hers when Austin and Ernesto were staring each other down.
From the moment the first bell of the first round rang, Austin was all over Ernesto, putting the current number one contender into one precarious position after another. The more experienced fighter never seemed to be able to get his game plan started.
If I didn’t know better I would have said that, if anything, it looked like Austin was holding back. There were plenty of times where it looked like Ernesto was on the verge of tapping out, only for Austin to lose hold of the submission attempt and make his opponent struggle for a few more seconds of survival before he was trapped again.
A minute into the third round, Sanchez looked like he had nothing left in his tank. He could barely keep his arms up, let alone stage a competent counter-attack.
Ernesto dropped his guard to defend against a brutal combination that Austin was unleashing on his torso, but when he did that, Austin launched a left high kick out of nowhere that caught Ernesto flush on the side of the head. Tens of thousands of people yelled “ooooooohhhhh!” at the same time and Ernesto went face-first into the canvas.
He wasn’t able to regain his feet by the time Austin was announced as the winner by KO, though he did stagger out of the ring under his own power a few minutes after that. The way Austin told it, this meant that the NHBFC would give him a title shot next.
After the post-fight press conference, those fighters still able to stand and who were so inclined went out to celebrate. Emily and a couple of the other wives and girlfriends from our side of the ring came along, so did a couple from the other side and one of the ring girls.
Coming in with a group like that, on the arm of a guy like Austin who made the bouncers look like toothpicks held together by cheap glue, nobody asked me for ID. We filed our way through the club and took our places in two and a half booths worth of seats.
Conversation was flowing well, the fighters all analyzing every minute detail of their and each other’s fights and getting tips on the finer points of submissions from Austin. With a glass of wine in me, I was starting to feel an incredibly happy buzz and Emily was almost ready to drag me out to the dance floor.
I bet with a dress like this, I could even get Austin out there for a song or two, but first I needed the bathroom. I thought that, while I was up, I might as well get a drink for myself and my soon-to-be-heavyweight-world-champion husband to have on standby too, because dancing is thirsty work!
Austin held his glass up and eyeballed it for a second while swirling the remaining drink around the ice cubes, then asked for a whiskey and Coke. He gave me a peck on the cheek that the other wives and girlfriends thought was adorable, but seemed to make Ariana stare daggers at me for some reason.
By the time I was waiting for the bartender to get to me, I’d shrugged it off, though. Not everybody liked the idea of Austin and me together, I guessed.
The bar was long and I was near the left end of it, where it bent to meet the wall, and the bartender was looking pretty overworked. I hoped it wouldn’t take too long to get to me.
A group of three men in suits were camped there at the short end of the bar, talking amongst themselves, two of them leaning on the bar and the other standing up facing them. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it seemed like they were pretty merry.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the one who was standing pat one of his friends on the upper arm and nod in my direction, talking in a lower tone. I looked determinedly in the direction of the bartender, as if I could will him over here.
My telepathic skills were obviously lacking, as the bartender served somebody else. The man to my left straightened his jacket and I heard him say, “Watch this,” before he walked around the corner of the bar and leaned next to me.
“Hey there, gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“Oh… uh… no, I’m OK, thanks.”
“You sure? I’m out celebrating tonight with a couple friends and I just thought I’d have a whole lot more to celebrate if you joined us. Maybe if you played your cards right, you could come back to my hotel room later too.”
His friends were doing their best to watch intently without looking like they were watching intently. They were failing.
I barely managed to restrain myself from rolling my eyes and tapped my wedding ring. “No. Look, I’m married.”
The man smirked as if I’d played right into his hand. “I saw that, but… uh… I don’t think you came up to the bar by my friends and me by accident. So, mission accomplished, you got my attention.”
“Hey… um… thanks, but no thanks. I’m here with my husband, I’m not interested, OK?”
“Let me ask you this. Did your husband close a deal worth half a mill today?”
What does that have to do with anything?
“Uh… maybe. You never know. Who cares?” I asked.
&nbs
p; Behind him, his friends were showing signs of cracking up.
“Well, you know, you’re young, maybe you married your high school sweetheart, I dunno, but this is your chance to be with a real man.”
I couldn’t help it. With his friends snickering behind him, I laughed too. When I did that, his demeanor changed scarily fast.
“Hey, what the fuck you laughin’ at?”
He took a step in my direction and I turned towards him, away from the bar, holding my hands in front of my body. He looked pissed, and I couldn’t back away fast enough before he was standing right over me.
“Sor- oof!”
His fist struck my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. He’d been standing close enough that I didn’t think anybody else saw the punch, and before I had half a chance to recover, he gave me a shove backwards that sent me to the floor, smashing my elbow against a metal railing.
Pain flared from my funny bone, sending an electric sting all the way down my arm. Some people who saw him push me looked like they were in shock. Others, who didn’t, simply thought that I fell, and I heard them laughing at me.
Whoever this guy was fed off that laughter and seemed to puff back up as I sat there with one arm folded over my stomach and the other hanging uselessly at my side. My breath came in a painful rasp and my vision was blurred with tears.
“Get the fuck offa me you drunk bitch,” he said. “Don’t you know who I am?”
“Hey, I know you!” said a voice I knew well.
Austin came from behind and passed me on my right. The guy in the suit barely had time to turn in Austin’s direction before my husband planted a front push-kick on him that launched him clear off his feet, hitting the corner of the bar in his ribs before landing awkwardly on his back.
The bigger of the guy’s two friends stepped in front of Austin. “Whoa, man, stay out of this!”
Without any pause, Austin scored his second knockout of the night with a right hook, and suit number two fell to the ground by his friend, who was trying to struggle to his feet.
