June
“Holy cow! This is the bathroom?”
Like anyone else who’s flown on a commercial airline, I have an idea what a first-class cabin looks like. Even when flying economy, they make you trek down the aisle, past the luxurious, generously-sized, and oh-so-comfortable-looking seats on the way to your cramped, crowded section of the plane.
However, even after seeing my share of first class cabins, and even after getting to sit in a first-class seat myself for this flight, I never would’ve guessed that the freaking bathrooms would be any different than the uncomfortable little lavatories you find on the rest of the plane.
Stepping into the bathroom just in front of Carter, the last thing I expected to see was marble flooring and a vase full of long stemmed roses on the counter.
Behind me, Carter laughs at my astonishment.
“Welcome to first-class, June.”
“Ohhhhh, first-class.”
Sarcasm suits me pretty darn well sometimes.
Like, for example, hurtling through the freaking sky at hundreds of miles an hour over the continental United States in the most luxurious space that dares call itself a restroom.
I always thought that the name restroom was a bit too gentle and euphemism-y.
The restrooms down at the old coffee shop or at Bill’s Diesel don’t look especially restful—at least, not to me.
But this first-class restroom facility? This is a place of rest.
A place of relaxation.
“Oh, come on June, don’t act like you haven’t been terribly impressed since you walked into the first-class cabin.”
The way he says this, with just a slight edge and silliness and the willingness to maybe take some of these trappings of big city luxury to task…well, I’ll just say it to him right out in the open.
“The most honest thing I can tell you is that this restroom is the first time I’ve been impressed with this first-class cabin.”
Okay, so maybe I’m not ready to say it out loud quite yet, but maybe I’m ready to demonstrate the sentiment in other ways.
“Are you impressed with the restroom…”
“Yes!”
“I was about to ask if you were impressed with me.”
Carter crosses his arms in front of his chest. He gives me a half-joking, half-serious look, with a little dash of silliness that’s turning out to be a pretty good look on him.
So far so good…but I was still unsure.
“Hmm. I’m not sure yet.”
“Not sure?” Uncrossing his arms, Carter takes a couple steps towards me with a wide-eyed look that is a bit hard to get a handle on.
It’d be easy for me to say it’s a bit of the ol’ wide-eyed excitement, maybe even a bit of naïve enthusiasm—although you’d think that was supposed to be my thing.
But, as Carter draws closer, there just seems to be something more to it—even if that something more is just that-the feeling of there being something more—yet you’re not sure what.
I’m not sure what, but whatever it is, it’s making me feel exceedingly hot in every sense of the word…along with other senses, which probably haven’t been invented yet.
He’s leaning towards me, leaning in slowly, then even more slowly, and with no dash of silliness or mystery or anything else besides…
“Just pure frigging heat,” I whisper just before our lips meet softly yet with desperation.
We stay like that, the heat rising, the want growing, mounting until I’m afraid we might be in violation of some sort of safety code. That thought just goes perfectly with the entire restroom.
“Okay, I’ll say it,” I remark after that fun bit of shaking ends, “I am officially impressed.”
“June, I know. You already yelled ‘holy cow!’ Don’t you remember?”
There’s no chance for me to respond, as we press our lips softly together again, then less softly, and then what I would describe—if asked to furnish a description—a kiss that tries to devour itself, with both of us fighting to take in as much of each other as possible.
Carter thought he was so clever with his hackneyed lean-down maneuver. It’s making me hot beyond the limits of what I could ever understand—but that is A-freaking-okay with me.
Hot beyond comprehension is a nice start, after all.
But it ain’t enough to keep me from turning that burner up a bit more by rising up to the balls of my feet, mashing my lips mercilessly into that beautifully bruised and battered face of his.
We must be traveling through another air pocket or something, because a ripple of strong vibrations rattles the whole world around us.
As we turn up the heat on each other, we’re well past giving a hoot about a tiny bit of turbulence.
When Carter clasps his palms on both sides of me just below my breasts, setting his fingers down lightly before digging in as I loll my head back with pleasure, no amount of cabin shaking and shimmying is going to stop this sweltering sky-high soiree.
It’s like I’m being shifted by some supernatural force as Carter digs his hands in harder and moves me over to the…
Toilet?
No…further. To a soft, purple chair next to the toilet.
That’s better.
It’s nice and comfy when I sit down, but boy, is he being, um, adamant today.
Carter leans down so fast, it’s like he’s freaking falling…but the next thing I know he’s smooching my neck with manic yet focused diligence.
“Oh, well, hey there!”
I’m hollering for his benefit, I think, but he doesn’t react directly, which makes me even hotter.
We start hitting another crazy air pocket as Carter drops to his knees. The total effect is enough to make me gasp, but the sudden rise in intensity is tempered for a nice little moment when Carter rubs a gentle hand on my belly.
“Oh, hey there again.”
“I can’t wait to taste your wet pussy and make you come over Ohio, then over Indiana, then twice over Illinois.”
“Eloquent.”
Again, no verbal response, just the feel of Carter’s hands on my legs, roughly massaging my skin, taking his time but sending the unmistakable message with every movement of his hungry hands that his appetite is ravenous and bottomless.
A delicate kiss just off the top of my thigh…a slightly less delicate kiss lower down, on my inner thigh.
Another slightly, but only slightly, less delicate kiss on my inner thigh, then another, rougher, needier kiss on my other thigh.
My hands, starting to tremble as if they were hitting some moderate turbulence of their own, start moving clumsily to pull up my skirt.
Frustration suddenly rushes though me, because my hands are vibrating with excitement and can’t move fast enough to get my skirt out of the way.
Abruptly, Carter’s hands are on either side of my skirt, pulling it down with almost startling efficiency.
“Read…my…”
No, I’m not going to finish.
I can’t.
Carter is back to kissing my thighs. He alternates from just above my knees, then stays on my left inner thigh as he moves rapidly upwards.
Those adamant kisses become softer, and then the sensation changes…
“Oh…dear…”
Carter’s tongue takes the place of his lips as he gets closer to the warm, tingling lips of my ready pussy.
“Holy…wow. Yes. That’s…yes.”
The tip of Carter’s tongue rubs around the outside of my pussy lips, staying so maddeningly close yet not touching the slick, excited realm of my womanhood quite ye—
“Oh, my dear sweet word, goodness me, fuck yes!”
There he goes, his tongue traveling gently up, down, and around. It feels so freaking amazing, but the promise of what’s to come has heat flushing through every inch of me.
Carter doesn’t get faster or harder with his movements like I expected. As his tongue slows, he seems to be getting more of my pussy with every lap and lick.
I can now clearly feel his tongue flattening against my pussy, setting every nerve in that entire region of my body on gosh-darned fire.
Carter’s licks simplify, turning into straight runs up my lips.
Slow runs. More like walks or a gentle sunset stroll…
A gentle stroll across a field of wheat at sunset that’s about to make me.
There’s another brief, intense pocket of turbulence—then stillness.
Carter’s tongue stops moving, staying where it was. The rapturous feeling is almost unbearable.
Carter’s tongue begins moving again, when there’s an impatient knock at the door.
“Hold your freaking hors…”
My body trembles, interrupting my own shouting. Oceans of bliss overtake everything within and around me.
And this was just the beginning.