by White, Jade
“Yes, on a plane. I took a private jet from Napa down here. That’s how we’ll be going back to my place.”
“You own a jet?” She didn’t suppose she should actually be surprised. He was wealthy, after all, but still…
“No, I chartered a jet. And I know the pilot really well. He’s discreet and looks the other way when I bring female passengers with me on his jet. As long as we keep the passenger section neat and leave it the way we found it, he doesn’t care what I do or who I do it to. So between here and Napa we’ll be having ourselves some aerial maneuvers. Naked aerial maneuvers.”
Tara didn’t know whether to laugh or scream with excitement. She never had the chance; in another second he wrestled her into a clinch and a kiss.
Several long kisses later, they came up for air and she asked him, running her fingers along the perfect lines of his face, “Tell me more about this house of yours.”
Fingering her nipple, Brenton answered, “Oh, the house. You’ll like the house. It’s set back at the end of a long private road and it’s partly enclosed by a forest, and there aren’t any other properties around, so we’ll have plenty of privacy. Which is good because I’ll be giving it to you outside by the pool and in the grass every day.” He planted another hard kiss on her, making her toes curl. “And inside there’s everything you’d want. Fireplaces—in the stair hall, and the library and the living room and the master bed suite. You like getting it next to a fire in the fireplace, don’t you?”
Thinking back to some nights she’d had with George on little getaways to the country, but not wanting to bring up his name, Tara replied, “I like it by the fire, yes.”
“Then that’s definitely on the schedule,” Brenton said, pinching her nipple and lighting up a spark inside her.
Remembering another detail from her travels, Tara asked, “What about working out? Do you have a little gym there, or anything?”
“Not exactly a gym,” he replied. But I do have a room with weights and benches and floor mats. And I’ll be doing daily push-ups on the floor mats—with you under me.” And he melted her heart with another torrid kiss that made her wrap her arms ever more tightly around him and beg him for more, which he obliged.
At the end of that simmering kiss, Tara said breathlessly, “You really can do it, can’t you? A marathon of sex for a whole week, I believe you can actually do it. Brenton, I’ve never met a man like you.”
He gave her a look as if to open up her soul with his eyes. She felt somehow as if she were looking into a deep pit of mysteries that she might never understand but could not resist exploring. After she’d explored half the world, suddenly Brenton had become another world to explore. “No,” he said, “you haven’t. You’ve never…ever…met a man like me.”
Brenton wrestled Tara onto her back and moved himself half on top of her. He kissed her deeply, again and again and again, and she moved her arms up and down his back and squeezed and pried apart his buttocks, responding to the moist fire of his mouth on hers. “You’ve never met a man like me,” he repeated. “You’ve never been screwed by a man like me. And you’ve never had a man screw you as much as I’m going to. I’m going to be in and out of you more than you ever thought was possible.”
Tara could do nothing but surrender and submit completely. She had no power and wanted none. She wanted him to possess and plunder her and she knew he would do just that. It was all she could do to gasp for a quick breath between one kiss and the next. She was being enveloped, consumed, and smothered in his desire. And she welcomed it.
Brenton lifted his lips from hers and looked down at her with that same mysterious, serious gaze. “I want you, Tara,” he said. “I want you so much. The more I’m in you, the more I want to be in you. I love feeling you respond to me, feeling you come, having you make me come.” He licked her lips and sucked her lower lip. She reveled quietly in his ardor. “There’s so much sex I want to give you,” he said. “All you have to do is lie with me and take it.” Again, he kissed her. “I want you, Tara,” he said again.
“I want you, Brenton,” said Tara, giving herself into the next kiss.
With an effort, he tore himself from her body and pulling of the sheets, got out of the bed got up and stood up by the bed. Tara gazed curiously up at him, her eyes inevitably falling down the muscular cliff of his torso to his crotch, to his other mane, the mane of his pubic hair, and the massive totem of flesh extending from it and seeming to reach for her the same as his arm did. “Come here,” said Brenton.
Tara picked herself up off the mattress and he suddenly swept her from the bed and into his arms, holding her there. She gave a little yelp of surprise, which he answered with yet another kiss. “I want your gorgeous boobs and ass in the shower before we get breakfast and check out,” said Brenton. And he carried her off to the bathroom.
What happened in the shower was hotter and steamier than the water. They lathered each other up and rinsed each other off, and Tara paid special attention to taking his hard totem and round, plump sac in a slippery, soapy grasp. She took a special delight in the way his member bobbed up and down as she slid her fingers down and off of it. His tool was so stiff that it would slap against his crotch and abdomen, making her want to play with it all the more.
Brenton let her go on playing with him while he turned off the water. Then he backed her up against the shower wall and passed his hand up her inner thighs, silently commanding her to part her legs. When he had her legs open, he returned the favor she was giving him and slipped two fingers through her pink curtains and into her sheath. The pleasure of it would have made her groan more audibly if at the same time he did not take her mouth in a sucking kiss that muffled her reaction.
He kept his fingers in her and moved them in circles, making her dizzy with pleasure, then pulled them out and slipped three fingers in, bringing a cry from her that echoed from the shower walls. Tara’s cries of delight were further muffled by his long, hungry kisses in the midst of penetrating her deeply with his fingers, pulling them back and slipping them in, over and over. Finally she was so consumed with pleasure that she could make only low, incoherent noises. Knowing what he was doing to her and loving it, Brenton let the thrusts of his fingers go on a while longer—until he had another idea.
Pulling out his fingers and letting her tremble there for a moment, Brenton dropped to his knees in front of Tara’s dripping-wet pubes and petals and put his mouth where his fingers had been. At once, he drank of the mix of water and Tara’s nectar while drinking in the sounds she made: “Ooohhh…Ooohhh…” He licked and sucked at Tara’s sex like a big cat drinking at the edge of a pond. Then he moved his tongue into her, and Tara grabbed at the soaking locks of his hair, quivering at his wet, hungry probing. She leaned her head back against the shower wall and let him send his tongue deep inside the walls of her sex, and the sounds of her moaning vibrated in the wet, steamy air.
Brenton took his fill of her, then pulled out his tongue and kissed her lady parts passionately. Then he rose back to his feet, moved the bluntness of his man-pole into Tara’s opening, and slipped it all the way in. Holding him close and surrendering to the quick, deep thrusts of his thick cylinder, Tara gasped and whimpered, “Yes, Brenton, yes… Do it…do it…don’t stop…please don’t stop…”
He kissed her savagely and hammered his piece in and out of her, grunting into her mouth, “I won’t stop…I’m not stopping. You feel too good. Uuuhhh, you feel so damn good…” Their hearts pounded together and Brenton pounded inside her, never slacking for a second. He sucked at her lower lip again and grunted further, “I'm gonna make us come together. You want that? Huh? You wanna come together?”
Tara whimpered, “Yes…”
Brenton moved one hand down below to find her little pulpy knob and start to strum at it while pumping his hardness inside her. Tara understood what he meant to do and let him carry her along for the ride. It was a sweet, hot, wet ride, with Brenton pleasuring her sex two ways at once. Their brea
ths became ragged. He never slowed his pace and never let up with the strumming of his finger, until the moment hit. He threw back his head and cried, “I’m coming, baby! Are you coming? Are you coming?”
And Tara half-screamed, “Yes…!”
The feelings overwhelmed both of them: the inferno of ultimate pleasure lighting up in them like a wildfire, the wetness of their flesh moving together, the dam-burst of his white rapids into her womb. The shared orgasm made them lock their bodies into a single trembling, slippery mass, until the tremors of their release subsided and they slid as one down the wall and onto the shower floor. Brenton crumpled on top of her and they became a tangle of naked flesh. Brenton kissed her and fed her his tongue, and they panted in the aftermath of their climax. He cursed, sweetly and profanely, between kisses, and they lay together, wet and spent, with Brenton’s custard leaking from her pink pastry.
Eventually they gathered themselves up from the shower floor and got themselves out of the bathroom with a couple of towels. They stood by the bed, toweling each other off and losing themselves in kisses and caresses. “This is how it’s gonna be all week long, baby,” he promised her between kisses. “I’m gonna be in and out of you for days and days.”
“Yes, Brenton,” she said. “I want you. I do. I want you.”
“You’re getting me,” he said, slurping at her mouth. “Every inch of it, day and night. It’s gonna be so good, just wait.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, dropping her towel and throwing her arms around him. His erection sprang back to life against her stomach.
In a move like a tango on a dance floor, Brenton spun her around. “Get your ass back on that bed,” he said, moving her back down onto the sheets across the mattress. He threw himself down on top of her, wrapped her legs around his hips, and slipped back into her for yet another long, urgent drilling and another gusher from his balls into her depths.
Afterward they lay across the bed, spent and happy. “You were talking earlier about practical considerations,” he said. “Here’s one. Give me a list of everything you like to eat—besides what you had when we woke up.” And they both chuckled at that. “I’ll call ahead to this market I know and put in an order that’ll have the refrigerator filled. That way all we’ll have to do is fill the bed, and I can concentrate on filling you up.”
She looked over at him, totally awed at his seeming ability to get hard and screw at will—and the amount of will he seemed to have. “You are so wonderful,” Tara said.
“You haven’t seen ‘wonderful’ yet,” Brenton replied, and kissed her lustily.
CHAPTER FOUR
Somehow, they managed to pause from sex long enough to dress and go down to the lobby for the continental breakfast, then return to their respective rooms to pack. Brenton met Tara at her room, and together they went to the lobby to check out. Then it was off to the airport. The private jet and the pilot were waiting for them and their bags on the tarmac and Brenton introduced Tara and let her climb aboard first.
As she boarded, she just caught from the corner of her eye the sight of Brenton nodding and winking at the pilot. The pilot gave Brenton the thumbs up and Brenton put his index finger through a circle made with the thumb and index finger of his other hand, the gesture for what would be going on once the pilot got them in the air. Tara smiled and climbed through the hatch, knowing full well that once they were on their way Brenton would be boarding her and passing through her hatch.
The main passenger section of the plane had individual seats with tables, and a sofa with seat belts. Tara and Brenton strapped themselves in on the sofa for takeoff. Once the pilot sent word back on the intercom that they were at cruising altitude and it was all clear to remove seat belts and move about the cabin, the next things to take flight were their clothing, onto the floor. Brenton leaned back naked at one side of the sofa, one foot on the cushion and the other on the floor, presenting his member, which stood at full attention, ready for her.
Licking her lips with relish, Tara descended face-first between Brenton’s legs and swallowed all but the base of his erection, and fondled his sac of berries while sucking at his length. Brenton shut his eyes and poured out appreciative profanities at the way she worked at him with her mouth, and so began Tara’s initiation into “the Mile-High Club.”
In all her life, Tara had never felt so free, so liberated. Ever since Brenton first took her to bed, she had felt as if a profound and deep change were working inside her as surely as what she now held in her mouth had worked so many times in and out of her. Loss, grief, and sorrow had put shutters around her mind, veils and curtains around her life. She had felt as though her heart were frozen in a glacier and her life were a territory around which high and impenetrable walls had been constructed.
Slowly, ever so slowly, in her travels, in the places she had been and the experiences she’d had, all those things had started to change. She had grown freer to smile and laugh. The lifting of her depression had made her feel free to move and to express. And finally, at the end of it, there was Brenton, as if the universe had sent him to her at exactly the time she needed him.
In bed, in the shower, and now here, thousands of meters over the Earth with him, Tara felt as if she hardly needed a plane to take flight after all this time. Brenton had set her free to fly. The shutters opened up wide.
The curtains and veils were drawn away. The glacier melted and the walls started to crumble and fall. And it was all because of this man, this almost inhumanly beautiful piece of muscular, long-haired perfection wrought in the form of a sexy, sweet, dirty-minded man.
Tara sucked Brenton’s erection with long, slow pulls and slides of her mouth, and fondled his man-pouch with warm and tender squeezes. Groaning and cursing on at her oral pleasuring, Brenton stroked her head and sifted his fingers through her hair. With every sweet suckling, he felt Tara thanking him for wanting her, expressing her gratitude for taking her out of the last vestiges of her grief and making it all right to let herself live fully again.
While groaning and grunting F-words at her, in the ecstasy-lit caverns of his mind Brenton thought, Damn, woman, you’re sucking me so good, you’re gonna suck the cream right out of me. Oh, damn, nobody’s ever gone down on me like this. All the dozens of women I’ve taken to bed, humans and my own kind, I’ve never been sucked like this. Yeah, don’t stop. Suck it…swallow it….
And she did. She feasted on his hard meat, then lifted his legs higher for a helping of his soft meat. He was choice and succulent and she was sure she would never have enough of him. But eventually Brenton needed her another way, and he reared up on the sofa and gazed down lustily at her. “Lie down, baby,” he said. “I’ve got to get back in you.”
They swapped positions, Tara lying where he’d been with legs parted, and Brenton climbed onto the sofa where she’d been, raking her up and down with his eyes, admiring the roundness of her breasts and the bright pink flower spreading open for him under her bush. He fingered her petals and bud, loving the way she grew wetter at his touch. “You are so damn beautiful,” he whispered. “You make me crazy from wanting you.”
He brought the head of his big, moistened piece to her flower and began to tap it against the petals, teasing her with anticipation. She made cooing sounds of delight at the way he tapped her threshold, until at last the teasing was too much for either of them to bear, and Brenton slid his full length home into her and lay down on top of her.
Tara wrapped him up in her arms and legs like the manly gift he was, and the joining of their bodies through their sex became the gift that kept on giving. Brenton rocked vigorously on top of her and stroked and pumped hard inside her, giving her all that he had and making her love every thrust. Their moans were drowned in the wet press and slide of long, luscious kisses.
Tara clenched and relaxed her legs about his hips, in time with his smooth and steady strokes, and her tight wetness enveloped and sheathed his urgently pumping hardness. They propelled themselves onward through
bodily joy even as the plane’s engines took them through the sky. It was a flight outside and a flight inside, and they both hoped never to come in for a landing.
Somewhere in the clouds, their moment neared. His voice half a moan and half a whisper, Brenton breathed hotly in her face, “I’m gonna come, Tara… Hell, I’m gonna come…”
Still squeezing him between her legs and rhythmically tightening and relaxing her fingers on his broad, hard shoulders, Tara breathed back at him, “Come for me, Brenton…come for me…” Another few minutes of thunderous thrusting did the job. Tara, her eyes shut with the building pleasure, felt him ram his length hard into her and hold it all the way in, and knew the moment was here. She trembled and tingled all over with the ultimate pleasure that she sensed igniting inside him, knowing that as far inside her as he could go, Brenton was giving her a series of thick white globs of seed. Her womb was becoming a pool of Brenton’s semen.
She sighed a long sigh of bliss, accepting the fullness and completeness of the most wonderful gift he could give her. And a look of contentment beyond measure lit her face as he came to rest atop her, putting his head and his mane on her shoulder, and mumbled post-orgasmic curses in her ear. Tara held him there, petting and fondling him, letting her contentment become his.
