Four Chances #1

by Lucy Tucker

  Chance was fully inside her, and yet she strained harder, trying to take every millimetre he had. Just as the pressure grew unbearable, she pushed upwards, releasing him, leaving his shaft exposed to the fresh air. The cold on his sensitive crown, after the warmth inside her, was delicious, and when she tried to lower herself onto him he stopped her. She tried harder and the muscles in his arms corded as he held her off him. Then, without warning, he let her go.

  “Aaah!”

  She cried out as his shaft plunged into her, her bud coming down on his pubic bone. He held her there, feeling her squirm, then lifted her up again. Her breasts heaved, swaying in front of his eyes, mesmerising him with their perfect, shapely symmetry.

  “Down. Down!”

  He obeyed, sliding his shaft inside her, and again held her down. This time he kept her there, and slowly he began to move his hips in circles, shifting inside her, pressing first one side, then the other. She gasped with pleasure, her legs limp, her toes curling and uncurling, and he leaned forward to take her nipple in his mouth. One lick, two, and she cried out, pressing herself to him, trying to rise up so she could drive herself down on him, to buck and thrust and hammer him deep inside her, to seek blessed release from the delicious torture.

  He refused to let her, holding her firm, restricting himself to tiny, circling movements with his hips. She brought her legs up and he took her knees under his arms, holding them to him, trapping her. She put her arms around his neck, kissed him frantically, begged him for release.

  And still he moved in circles, refusing to give in to temptation, refusing to finish her quickly with a few well-timed thrusts. The pleasure was getting to him now, the slow build-up reaching deep inside and drawing him out. Alice was crying out to him, begging him, trying to lift herself off him so she could finish it.

  Then, when he felt he couldn’t last another second, she let out a cry of pure pleasure. Her legs clamped the sides of his chest, her arms tightened around him, and she threw her head back, lifting her breasts towards him. As she started to spasm he finally relented, lifting her off him, then driving himself upwards with powerful thrusts of his legs. He was lifting himself out of the saddle with each thrust, his buttocks slapping on the warm vinyl, and Alice cried out again and again as she came in his arms.

  Chance followed her into passion, almost blacking out as his body took over. He thrust into her again and again, each time thinking it was the last, and each time coming back one more shuddering time.

  Then, thoroughly spent, they collapsed on the saddle. Alice sought his lips and they shared a series of fast kisses, breathing heavily between each touch of their lips. Gradually their breathing eased, and they sat there in a warm, all-enveloping embrace.

  They rode back to the city in silence, and this time Chance controlled the bike while Alice sat behind him, her arms around his chest and her cheek on his back. When they reached the hire ship, the attendant wheeled the quad bike into line with the rest and retrieved their deposit from the office.

  “Was it a good ride?” he asked, handing Chance the slip.

  “They were all great,” said Alice, with a grin. “Unbelievably good.”

  “There’s some nice spots up in the hills,” said the attendant, clearly angling for a better tip.

  “There are some even better ones in the valleys,” said Chance.

  Alice laughed, and the attendant looked puzzled.

  “Did you see any wildlife?” he asked, trying again.

  Chance gave Alice a sidelong glance. “Pretty wild, yes.”

  “Pig,” she muttered, punching him in the shoulder.

  The attendant removed his cap and scratched his head, and Chance took pity on him. “Here. This is for you.”

  “Thank you, sir. Any time you want a bike, ask for me. I got the best rides in town.”

  “Second-best,” said Alice, and she pinched Chance on the backside.

  They caught a cab to the airport, snuggling together in the back like teenagers. Neither spoke, both unwilling to break the spell and end the wonderful afternoon.

  When they entered the terminal, Alice stopped and took Chance’s hand in hers. She didn’t look at him, just stood beside him, squeezing his hand tightly. “I hate goodbyes,” she said eventually.

  “I’m not much good at them myself.”

  “I’m sorry you missed your flight.”

  “I’m not.”

  “No, you’re right,” Alice squeezed his hand again. “I’m not sorry either.”

  “Anyway, I’m sure I can charm one of the attractive counter ladies into a transfer.” Chance looked around theatrically. “There was a nice, modest young woman here before. Alice I think her name was. Have you seen her around?”

  “She’s gone,” said Alice, with a grin. “Wild Alice has taken her place.”

  “Really? Can you transfer my flight, Wild Alice?”

  She looked thoughtful. “I might be able to fit you in this afternoon, or maybe overnight. Or maybe, just maybe, around dawn.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I think so. I mean, I’m exhausted right now, but I’ll recover.”

  “Eh?”

  “And then, after I fit you in once, twice, or or maybe even three times, we can come back here tomorrow and I’ll put you on a flight.”

  Chance looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, I —”

  “That’s the deal. Take it, or miss the chance forever.”

  Comprehension dawned, and he laughed. “Never Mister Chance is my motto,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take it. I’ll most definitely take it.”

  “Good choice.”

  They turned around and left the terminal again, walking arm in arm as they headed back to the taxi rank. Halfway there, Chance stopped. “What about work? Won’t you get in trouble?”

  “My supervisor’s always telling me to get out and enjoy myself a bit more.” Alice smiled shyly. “Anyway, today’s my birthday.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Why didn’t you say? Are you doing anything special?”

  “I already did something special.” She squeezed his hand. “Several somethings, actually.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to top them all.” Chance helped her into a cab and addressed the driver. “I need a birthday cake, a restaurant and a good hotel. And no roadworks!”

  About Chance in Flight …

  Luke Chance is travelling business class on a red-eye flight, and when the passenger beside him begins to pleasure herself in her sleep, he doesn’t know where to look.

  One round of lost luggage later, and he finds himself even deeper in the grip of desire. Chance in Flight is a red hot tale of passion between impulsive strangers.

  Chance #4 - Chance in Flight

  Luke Chance stepped aboard the aircraft, showing his boarding pass to the smiling flight attendant. She stepped back and motioned to her right, into the business class section, and Luke nodded his thanks. There were sixteen seats in rows of four, two either side of the aisle, and another flight attendant, in a smarter, more formal uniform, took his boarding pass.

  “Welcome aboard, Mr Chance. Let me show you to your seat.”

  “Thank you.”

  She eyed the battered holdall he was carrying, with its frayed handles, well-worn flanks and interesting collection of holes and stains. From her expression he suspected it wasn’t quite up to business class standards. “Can I take your, er, bag?”

  “That’s okay, I’ll keep it with me.”

  Chance took his seat. It was on the right hand side, in the aisle, and through the window he could see the lights of the airport, bright against the night sky. He put the bag by his feet and sat back, closing his eyes. The last few days had been a rush, and he was looking forward to a decent sleep.

  “I’m sorry, can I …?”

  Chance opened his eyes. There was a woman standing in the aisle, and she was indicating the window seat next to him. His immediate impression was mid-thirties, wi
th wide grey eyes framed by soft golden hair. She had a gorgeous English accent, and uttered a silent thank-you to the gods of airline travel. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t get up. I can manage.” She turned sideways and slipped past him, her waist at his eye level. She was wearing a knitted woollen dress that hugged her like a sheath, showing off her shapely thighs and flat belly. Chance angled his legs to let her past, her body so close he could feel the warmth of her. Then she stopped directly in front of him. “I think I’ve caught my foot on something. I can’t …”

  Her thighs were directly in front of him, clad in black woollen tights. If he leaned forward to help her, he was going to plant his face right between her legs. “Er …” he began, not quite sure what to do.

  “Maybe if I turn a bit?”

  She did so, bringing her shapely rear into view. Then she leaned into the aisle, one hand on the seat in front of them, the other on his own. Chance bent forward, his ear brushing the back of her leg. Her foot was caught in the strap of his bag, and he was about to take her ankle and lift her foot when he realised he’d better explain first. He turned his head, and was about to speak when he realised he was looking straight up her dress. He turned his head away quickly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. “I’m, er, just going to lift your foot.”

  “Sure, go ahead,” she said, a note of amusement in her voice.

  He took her ankle in one hand, her leg warm to the touch. Gently he raised it, and when there was enough room he unhooked his bag. “That should do it.”

  “Thanks! You’re most kind.”

  Chance sat up, his face red, and she wriggled past him to her seat. “I’m really sorry about that,” he said, as she sat down. “It was my bag.”

  “No harm done.” She gave him a smile and took an ebook reader out of her handbag. She switched it on and began to read, and Chance tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He could still remember the warmth of her leg on his hand, and the enticing way her buttocks had moved when she wriggled past him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to slow his heart rate.

  He was woken from a light doze by a public announcement, the senior flight attendant’s voice calm and professional. She covered their flight time, then asked the passengers to watch the safety demonstration. Chance viewed the whole process though half-closed eyes, while alongside him the woman didn’t even look up from her ebook.

  Take-off was smooth and easy. Chance always enjoyed the naked, thrusting power of the big jets, the way they pushed you in the middle of the back, and kept pushing, harder and harder, until it seemed like it would never stop. The wheels left the tarmac with a gentle bump, and seconds later the plane’s wing dipped as it altered course.

  The engines throttled back after the steep climb, reducing the noise level, and once the plane reached cruising altitude they throttled back again. The woman alongside Chance was still reading her book. In fact, he didn’t think she’d taken her eyes off the reader since she’d sat down, and whatever she was reading, it had to be riveting. Either that, or she was giving him a not-so-subtle hint.

  She finally put it down when the flight attendant took their orders for supper. After choosing her meal, Chance’s fellow passenger gave him a smile.

  “That must be a great book,” said Chance. “I’ve never seen anyone so engrossed.”

  “It wasn’t bad,” said the woman. She put her hand out. “I’m Veronica, by the way.”

  “Luke Chance.”

  They shook, her hand firm and warm in his.

  “Have you been on holiday?” he asked her.

  “No, I’m a consultant. I was helping to seal a contact for a client. Yourself?”

  “I took a week off.”

  “Visiting family?”

  “No, just a break on my own.”

  She looked him up and down, giving him a swift appraisal. “I doubt you were on your own the whole time.”

  Chance grinned. “Not entirely, no.”

  After dinner the cabin lights were dimmed for the night. Veronica tilted her seat back and closed her eyes, and before long she was asleep. Chance sat in the darkness, full from the hot meal. Perversely, he was now wide awake. He considered reading, but there was only the in-flight mag and he didn’t want to put the overhead light on in case it disturbed the woman next to him. As for the entertainment system … well, he wanted to relax, not subject his eyeballs to a barrage of flickering images.

  In the end he sat back and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander.

  Chance woke with a start, momentarily disoriented. He blinked once or twice in the half-light, but the steady roar of the plane’s engines and the rows of seats in front of him soon brought it all back. Then he looked down. Veronica’s hand was on his chest, moving slow circles under his shirt. She’d found the gap between two buttons, and her fingers were warm on his bare skin. Startled, he turned to look at her, half-expecting a playful expression or a cheeky grin. She was facing him, her head on the padded rest, but her eyes were closed and her face was relaxed. In fact, she was fast asleep.

  She murmured something, moving her finger to his nipple. Her hands were warm, and Chance felt a stirring in his loins. Then, with a twinge of regret, he gently withdrew her hand and moved it to her lap.

  “No, Gordon,” she said clearly.

  Chance adjusted his shirt and tipped his head back. Seconds later he felt her hand again, gently resting on his flat stomach. His eyes opened, and he looked down in shock as she moved lower, over his belt. There was a moment of warmth as she laid her hand on his crotch, and then he reacted, hurriedly moving her hand back to her own lap.

  He swallowed nervously, one eye on her hand. He would have welcomed the touch, had she been awake, but she was obviously dreaming, fantasising about someone else, and there was no way he was going to take advantage.

  A few moments later she turned towards him, her lips moving, a half-smile on her face. She lifted the seat rest between them and leaned against his chest, her arm snaking around him before he could react. He could feel her breasts against him, and her hand began to move up and down his chest. Chance took hold of her shoulders and eased her back to her seat, taking her arm and hand and guided them gently back to her lap.

  “Gordon!” she said, sounding annoyed.

  Chance grinned to himself. Whoever this Gordon was, he was not in her good books.

  Veronica was still for a while, and Chance started to relax. Maybe she was reading a book in her dream now, intent on the words and less intent on the mysterious Gordon. Perhaps he’d been banished to the sofa, the poor guy. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hand moving. He tensed, ready to intercept, but instead of coming for him it was easing up the hem of her knitted dress, sliding it up her leg. Then her hand moved underneath, the fabric stretching and bunching against her wrist as her fingers slid between her thighs.

  Chance looked away quickly. It seemed poor old Gordon was definitely out of luck. He grabbed the in-flight magazine and opened it at random, barely able to see the pages in the darkness, let alone the print. Then, without warning, Veronica’s leg pressed against his, and he felt a steady rhythm transmitted through her warm flesh. He swallowed, his throat dry at the thought of the woman pleasuring herself in the next seat, and he quickly moved his leg away.

  Two seconds later her leg was pressed against him once more, and now he had nowhere to go. He looked up and down the aisle, wondering whether to flee, but every seat was full and he could hardly hide in the toilet for the rest of the flight.

  He felt hot breath on his cheek, and he turned to see Veronica’s face near his, her features a blur in the dim light. Her mouth was open and she was breathing hard, and in the periphery of his vision he could see the languid strokes of her fingers, down below her waist. He took up a travel blanket, unfolding it and gently placing it on her lap.

  Then he closed his eyes tight, trying to block out the warm leg pressed to his, the sharp urgent movements, and the panting
which was getting faster and more intense by the second. He tried to ignore his own uncomfortable erection, embarrassed that his body was reacting to the stimulus which his mind was desperately trying to ignore.

  Veronica began to writhe in her seat, drawing back her legs as pleasure took her. It was too much for Chance, and he started to get up, intending to flee until she was sated. Before he could leave his seat Veronica hooked her leg over his, trapping him. The blanket slipped off as she tried to get closer to him, angling her hips towards him as she thrust her fingers into herself. He could hear her soft moans over the background noise of the engines, and he desperately hoped the passengers around them were fast asleep. If someone looked now, he’d probably get arrested. Especially if it was Veronica herself who opened her eyes.

  Veronica began to work herself harder, her hand moving in a frenzy inside her tights. Her knees came right up, her left pressing against Chance’s chest, pinning him to his seat. It jerked against him, once, twice, and then her head dropped forwards as she neared climax. She sucked in breaths as her fingers flashed in and out of her tights, short, sharp gasps timed perfectly with every thrust. Her tempo increased, getting faster and faster, and then she came, arching her back, lifting her hips off the seat, pressing her head back against the padded rest as waves of pleasure wracked her body. Then, when she was done, she lowered her legs, pressing them together, trapping her hand between them. She sighed and turned away, facing the window.

  Chance retrieved the blanket and gently laid it on her lap, covering her thighs. Then he closed his eyes and tried to will his throbbing erection away.

  Chance opened his eyes, instantly alert. The background roar of the plane’s engines had cut out, and for a split second he thought something was wrong. Then he realised they were descending. The cabin lights were on and the crew were moving along the aisle, collecting empty glasses and offering hot coffee and tea.