Cock Me, Pilot

by Sylvia Fox

  I step out of the car, hoping like hell, I won’t be taking them off by myself tonight.

  Rolling my suitcase behind me, I identify the commercial hangar in which his jet is parked. He must see me coming, maybe he has even been watching for me, because the moment I get to his parked plane, he wraps me in a warm hug.

  "Brett, it's so good to see you," I tell him as he kisses me on the cheek.

  He smells like a man. Not some stupid college boy, with rank weed and cheap beer seeping from his pores. No, Brett is all man. His dark hair has flecks of silver and his face has just the slightest bit of stubble. He wears a collared shirt and a leather belt, polished shoes and tailored pants. I instantly want him to turn around so I can see his well-toned ass from behind. His watch is gold, his cologne earthy; I inhale the scent of him as he gives me a hug.

  "Ella, you look so...."

  I pray that he doesn't end his sentence by saying so grown-up, because that will only cement my fear that he still sees me as some little girl.

  But Brett never disappoints.

  "You look so damn good," he says.

  The confidence-building statement causes a shiver to run down my spine, all the way to my core. I savor it, having always relished in Brett's compliments.

  And right now, it's even better. There is no one around to hear them except me.

  "The driver said he thought there was supposed to be a pretty bad windstorm? Have you heard anything about that?" I ask Brett.

  He takes my suitcase and carries it to the garage. "Yeah, we need to talk about that. It's just hit and miss right now. People keep saying it's only gonna get worse. And I don't know if I feel safe leaving until the storm blows through."

  My face must've fallen, because it continues, "Don't worry Ella, I'll get you home to your parents before Thanksgiving dinner. In fact, they invited Kari and me to join you. Did you hear about that?"

  I nod, wanting to say more. I bite my bottom lip instead not trusting myself to keep back the floodgates of what I really want.

  The last thing I want to do is ruin my friendship with Kari or further strain the relationship with my mom and dad.

  "What is it Ella, cat got your tongue?" he asks.

  "Oh, I'm just thinking how it's not the worst thing in the world to be stuck in this hangar with you."

  A grin spreads across Brett’s face, and he guides me toward the plane with his hand on the small of my back. My skin dances with desire.

  "Oh, I'm not leaving you in this hangar Ella. It's fucking cold outside. Let's get up in the plane. It's warmer there, and you can have a drink and relax. I know you just got done with exams."

  "You know about my test schedule?" I give him a smirk as he guides me up a narrow flight of stairs to his luxurious eight-person jet.

  "I ask Kari how you're doing every now and then. Want to make sure you're hanging in there."

  "You ask Kari about me?" Of course, Kari has never mentioned something like this. Why would she? Oh, by the way I saw my dad and he asked how you're doing? It would make no sense. Especially since my parents ask about Kari all the time. Mostly because they're obsessed with how perfect she is.

  "Well, I've always had my eye on you Ella, for a long time. I wouldn't want some college asshole to treat you wrong."

  "Oh, so it's not just inquiries about my academic success? You're curious about my dating life?" I tease him, emboldened by the fact we've known one another for so long. It isn't uncomfortable or awkward even though it's just the two of us on his plane.

  It's like we've both been waiting for this moment.

  He looks at me sternly before he answers, "Hell yeah I want to know if you're dating anybody.”

  I inhale through my nose, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment.

  He continues, almost with a hint of nervousness in his next question, “So, are you?”

  "I’ve never dated anyone,” I say in almost a whisper, but with confidence.

  He turns and closes the door to the plane and suddenly everything is quiet.

  Suddenly everything has narrowed into this moment.

  I blush, thinking about how many times I've touched myself, dreaming of him and now we are in such close proximity--alone.

  How many times I've wondered if all those glances over the years, all those near misses, were ever about more than just the fact that I'm his daughter's best friend? All those times I wondered if it was more.

  "Never dated anyone at all?" Brett asks, turning back to face me.

  "I never met someone I wanted to date." I lick my lips with my chin lowered, my eyes raised. "I wasn't going to waste my time on boys.”

  My voice must hint at more because Brett takes a step toward me.

  "You're not interested in boys then? You like girls, Ella?" His gaze is heavy on me but I don't look away.

  I shake my head, taking a deep breath, my breasts rising as I do. His eyes are all over me, and I want them to stay that way.

  "Not girls. Not boys," I tell him. "I only ever wanted a man."

  I swallow, and Brett takes another step toward me. My purse falls from my shoulder and drops to the floor with a thud. I don't bend over to get it. Neither does Brett. Instead his mouth moves closer, inches from mine.

  "Any man?" he asks.

  "No," I manage. "You. Only you."

  And then he kisses me.

  Chapter Four

  Brett kisses like I’ve always imagined he would. His tongue is hot in my mouth as our lips press together. He's rough, needy. Like he wants this as much as I do. Both of his hands cradle my face; his fingertips at the base of my neck.

  His thumbs are on my cheeks.

  His mouth on mine.

  This kiss could be enough. I mean, I feel like I could get off on this for the next ten years, that's how hot it is. My nipples are tight; my pussy is wet. This is enough for a virgin like me.

  But when he pulls back, both of us needing to breathe, I know this is not enough for him. I feel his hardness against my stomach. Hardness a man like him isn't used to letting just sit there without being taken care of.

  "Ella, I'm sorry, that was too much." Brett steps back and runs his hands through his hair. He unbuttons his shirtsleeves and rolls them up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, reminding me how much of a man he is.

  "No, it wasn't too much," I tell him. "I just never knew...."

  His eyes narrow as he considers my words. "Ella, you had to know. Damn, I've been thinking about you and that bikini for three long months. The way your ass rubbed up against me. You can't stand here and tell me you haven't thought of that moment."

  I love hearing that he's been thinking of me. I need him to know he has been in my thoughts also.

  "Can I tell you something, Brett, without you judging me? I mean, I want to tell you but I don't want you to think differently of me."

  But even as I say it I know it is a lie. I want Brett to think of me very differently. Not as a little girl. Not as his daughter's best friend.

  I want him to see me as a woman, a lover.

  His.

  He adjusts himself, shaking his head as a soft smile crosses his face. "Ella, there's no way in hell I'd start judging you. I can guarantee the thoughts running through my mind have been a hell of a lot dirtier."

  "I don't know, Brett. I've been...." I stop, laughing softly, feeling my face flush. Shocked that I'm even considering admitting how many times I touch myself at the sight of his face.

  Brett steps towards me, his hands wrapping around my waist. His confidence makes my pussy drip.

  "Ella, you're blushing."

  I nod, biting my bottom lip. I know I can't look in his eyes and say this, but I still want him to know. If I have any hope of something, anything -- of this fantasy of mine becoming reality -- I should put it out there. Say what I'm really thinking. Feeling.

  Because everything about this moment is a dream come true. We're alone. There's a storm outside. We are stuck here in his jet, by ourselves, for hour
s.

  There is never going to be a safer or more perfectly orchestrated moment.

  "Ever since that day in the ocean," I begin. "With my ass against your cock, I've been thinking of you."

  "Just thinking?" Brett asks gruffly.

  "Not just thinking. I keep pulling up that picture of you without a shirt on, in those swim trunks, and I keep remembering the way I saw the outline of your cock. It was so hard. Like it is now. I keep thinking of it," I sigh, feeling myself becoming so warmed up just by saying these words out loud. I’m so hot and horny for Brett. My skin tingles, my throat tightens.

  "If you weren't just thinking, what were you doing?" Brett asks again. I look up at him, loving the way his eyes are on me. It makes me feel beautiful, seen.

  "I've been touching myself when I remember."

  “Ella," Brett says. "Where have you been touching yourself?"

  I like this game he is playing. Drawing out every sentence, and I realize he is getting as hot as I am. He takes my hand from my waist and presses it to his pants, wanting me to feel how hard he is has gotten.

  My fingers tremble, and I feel myself shake, because no matter how many times I've imagined this moment, I never actually thought it would happen.

  "I've been touching my pussy. Pressing my fingers inside myself. It doesn't take very much for me to get off." I close my eyes thinking of the memory of my legs spread apart, my thumb rolling over my clit in tight circles.

  "Do you think of me when you fuck other men?"

  I pull back in surprise, shaking my head. "I told you, there are no other men. Just you."

  Brett's jaw tenses and he runs a hand over the base of his neck as if trying to steady himself.

  "You are telling me you're a virgin?"

  "That's exactly what I'm saying. I've been saving myself. All of myself. For you." When I see the smile spread over his face I'm emboldened to say more. "All the girls in my dorm talk about vibrators, the battery-operated rabbits they use, and the bigger ones too. Some girls like dildos. Big eight inch ones, they like to pound them in their pussies to get off."

  "And you?" Brett asks, breathing more heavily, his fingers tracing my nipples under my top. My pussy squeezes together in agony at his touch. "Do you use a dildo to get off, Ella?"

  "No. I've never used anything. I never wanted to."

  "So you're not very adventurous, is that it?"

  I laugh softly. I laugh because he's got it so wrong. "Oh, I'm up for adventure. I just didn't want anything in my pussy that wasn't your cock." On that last word, I press hard against his stiff dick, the one I'm tracing with my fingers.

  Brett groans. "Hell, Ella, I did not expect to hear that out of your beautiful little mouth."

  "You like my mouth?" I know it's a coy question and maybe I'm fishing here, but I lap up his compliments.

  "I love your mouth. I keep picturing it wrapped around my cock. I picture you sucking me off like the pretty little thing you are."

  I whimper and his fingers run over my back, lifting the hem of my shirt ever so slightly and I feel bad for a second that there's no bare skin there for him to touch.

  I'm wearing the black lace up corset, and I have a feeling he's about to see it.

  Chapter Five

  "But what about…?" I break off, not wanting to say her name, but knowing I need to. She's my best friend. She's his daughter.

  His fingers are still on the hem of my shirt, and I know all he wants is to lift it up and pull it off.

  "We don't have to do this if you don't want to,” he says.

  "Brett, this is literally all I want."

  He nods, and I know he is going to take command. "Then let's just enjoy this winter storm, and one another."

  "Is that what you're calling it these days, enjoying one another?" I tease. Brett is so familiar, I've known him for so many years, that I don't feel nervous around him.

  Brett pulls up my shirt. His eyes widening when he sees my tits pushed so high in this strapless corset.

  Now that the floodgates have been opened; once I’ve told him how badly I want him and he's told me how badly he wants me, there's nothing stopping us.

  I unbutton my pants, shimmy out of them, my shoes too. For moment, I wish I were wearing high heels, fuck me heels. Considering I'm wearing these thigh highs; I probably should have worn some sort of sexy heel.

  "Oh Ella, you're killing me here." Brett steps back, looking me over from head to toe. "Yeah, you're right. We are not merely going to be enjoying ourselves today. Right now, I am going to fuck your tight pussy. I'm going to spread the cheeks of your ass and lick you nice and good, up and down until your creamy cunt is dripping. I'll put my cock in your mouth and I'll cum as you swallow. I want to cum all over your tits. Want to mark you as my little virgin. My little virgin who is about to get nice and dirty."

  His words are like moth to a flame. They get me so hot and all I want is to see his cock. See the cock that is going to fuck me until I belong to Brett.

  "It's not fair that I'm in my underpants and you're still dressed." I raise one eyebrow taunting him. My fingertips run over the laces tying up my corset, and I tug on a string ever so slightly. "Did you want me to show you mine? Because Brett, you have to show me yours."

  I know he likes it when I talk this way, we've been accelerating quickly, but even in this short exchange, from when I went from fully dressed to black lace, I already know he's a man who likes to fuck filthy dirty.

  "I'll take off my clothes," he tells me. "But you have to touch yourself as I do. Show me how you touched yourself when you looked at my photograph. Show me how you touch yourself when you dreamed of getting fucked by me."

  I pull in a sharp breath, realizing this is no longer me touching myself as I look at a two-dimensional photograph. Now I'm going to spread my legs apart, show him my bare pussy, as he takes off his clothes.

  This is real.

  I step toward him and begin unbuckling his belt, sliding it from the loops before tossing it to the floor. "It won't take me long to get off, Brett. So, you better get moving," I warn.

  His hands are on the buttons of his shirt, and I turn away from him, knowing the thong I'm wearing will give him a perfect view of my round ass. I want him to see me in all my glory.

  Then I sit in an armchair and I spread my knees. Between my legs I take two fingers and part the fabric of these crotchless panties.

  His eyes are on me the whole time, as he unbuttons his shirt, laying it on the back of the chair. He pulls off an undershirt, revealing a solid chest--tanned and muscular-- the kind of chest that I want to run my tongue up and down. A chest I want to press my tits against.

  Since he's playing fair, I do too. I spread my pussy lips wide, wanting him to see all of me.

  "I get my pussy waxed nice and clean. I hope you like it bare. Like a young little virgin, just for you."

  I say those words as sugary sweet as I can, loving the way my gift to him is being received. He takes off his pants, standing before me in his boxer briefs. His cock is erect, hard and huge.

  I want his underwear off so I can see how truly big he is.

  "Oh baby," he groans. "Your pussy is perfect. I love a nice smooth cunt. Do you have any fucking clue how long I've wanted you?"

  I move my fingers faster with deep circles, panting as I do, wanting to pleasure him with this view. I never take very long to get off because the idea of Brett always gets me so hot, so juicy wet, so fast. This time things are different. This time it’s more. Better. Everything.

  My head falls back, my tits rising and falling as I breathe fast.

  "How long have you been dreaming of this, Brett?" I ask, wanting to know badly.

  He shakes his head, his eyes on my pussy the whole time.

  "Ever since you got tits as a fifteen-year-old. But I knew that was wrong, to want a pussy as tender as yours. So, I've waited, watching you grow. Watching your hips get curvier, your tits get huge, until they are the perfect globes they are now. I wait
ed, even as you tempted me a thousand times, walking around my house at night in nothing but a see-through tee shirt. I'd wait until you went back to bed, and then I’d pull out my cock and fucking get off thinking about your little slit, so nice and creamy. I’d jack off, imagining you straddling me as I made you a woman."

  I am struggling to breathe; my pussy is wet, like it’s never been before. Brett's words are like magic, making me believe this is more than a one nightstand. Brett has wanted me for as long as I've wanted him.

  Chapter Six

  His cock is so damn big under those briefs, it's straining against the fabric, and I want to see how big he is. I want it to be so big it will hurt, so big it will make me scream. I want Brett to hold me by the hair and fuck me hard.

  My fingers are slippery wet.

  "I'm so ready for you. My pussy is wet for you. See what you do to me, Brett? This is what happens every time I take a shower. Sometimes I shower three times a day. I can't get enough. All I want is my pussy to be filled with your cock. I think about it so often, so much, I can't even focus on school." The words tumble out of me. He must love the sound of my voice, because he takes off his underpants, and that cock of his is longer than a mother-fucking ruler.

  I don't even know what to call it, it isn't a dick. It certainly isn't a magical creature -- though it is otherworldly. This is the cock porn stars dream of having, the cock those silly girls in the college dorm think about. This is the cock that I get. For my very first time.

  "Your pussy is wet, but I think it can get wetter." Brett steps toward me in his muscular nudity, a deep V leading my eyes to his cock. He strokes himself up and down as he walks towards me. "You like what you see baby?" His words are thick and hot. I stop fingering myself as he steps closer, so he can get a better view of my cunt. I lift my fingers from my pussy and press a juicy hand across his chest.

  "You want me to take this top off?" I ask him, my pussy pulsing. He doesn't answer, but pulls me out of the chair, tugs the ribbon on the corset, pulling the corset apart, letting my breasts tumble out. My hand is on his cock in a moment, but I can't wrap my hand around him, his cock is too big for my fingers to meet. My eyes flutter thinking about how big it's gonna be for my pussy.