[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter Sixteen


Jaymie

I felt like everyone on the plane knew what we were doing.

I was in the bathroom, sitting on the seat, waiting. He would knock twice quick, once slow, he said. Three knocks total. My heart was acting like a ping pong ball off my lungs - or at least that’s what I felt like was probably happening, even though I know that’s basically anatomically impossible. I fidgeted. I was crazy. This was crazy. This was so not a good idea. What if he wasn’t ready for sex yet? I worried as I sat there. I’d argued with him in hushed tones for a couple moments in the seat before coming to the latrine. He’d pointed out that we were both super stressed from the flight, that sex would relieve that stress, that the doctors had told him to stay destressed. “You’d really be helping me,” he hissed.

And well I mean I wasn’t made of steel, I had needs, too, and I’d been going through some withdrawals of my own, not being able to sleep with him over the last two weeks and getting the stress out did sound pretty tantalizing and he had a point. Who the fuck was I to argue what the doctors had said?

Knockknock, knock.

With a shaking hand, I stood up and slid the door’s lock across, allowing him access. He pushed the door open and slid inside, pushing it closed behind him, being careful not to open the door too wide for anyone to notice that I was in there. Still, I was certain that every passenger on the plane was sitting there, smirking at the wall that enclosed us.

I didn’t have too long to think about it, though, before Nick’s mouth was on mine and my back was pressed against the itty bitty sink, his back against the itty bitty door. There was barely enough room in the latrine for one person, not to mention two, and he picked me up and set me on the sink basin’s edge so I was sitting in front of him. He reached for my shirt, pushing it up over my head and dropped it onto the floor at his feet. He pressed his face to my chest, enveloping his nose and cheeks in my cleavage and I heaved a breath of excitement as he kissed my skin tenderly and ran his hands across my back to my hips, over my jeans to the button at the front. I reached for his shirt once I was sitting on the sink in my lingerie, and pulled his shirt over his head. It caught on his nose and he stifled a laugh and I tossed it to the floor, too. He undid his own belt and pants and let them drop to his ankles, not bothering to step out of them. He took my hands and slid them up behind my head against the mirror, effectively pinning me in place, and stepped closer, his waist pressed against my pelvis, and he repeatedly kissed my skin, my throat, my collarbone.

He released my hands and slid his over my back, detaching my bra and letting my boobs fall free. He grinned at them and licked his lips and pulled me toward him, fingers crawling and tip-toeing up my spine. I arched my back, thrusting my breasts at him, and he groaned as my nipples grazed his chest. Then he gripped hold of me, turned so he was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat and I was on his lap, straddling him.

He pushed my panties aside and pressed himself into me and I gasped and clutched at his back, my fingernails digging into his skin as he grinned and pulled me down on him, his hands on my hips, guiding me.

I moaned and tilted my headback, and he pressed his mouth to my throat, kissing all around my neck to my shoulder, as I used my feet to push myself up and lower myself back down, his hands guiding my hips with each rise and fall.

“Ohh fuck,” I gasped as he started to guide my hips faster, rocking me forward and backward as well as up and down. I felt like I couldn’t close my mouth for lack of oxygen. He was literally stealing my breath.

“That feel good, baby?” he growled.

“Yes,” I choked. “Oh God, yes.” I was biting my lip now to keep from screaming, my body torn between modesty of silence and the need for oxygen and I started shaking, my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. I could feel sweat beading on my back and my chest and he laughed quietly and sucked on the skin of my neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

Suddenly he stood, pressing me into the wall, thrusting hard into me in the motion, as deep as he could go. I wrapped my legs around him, my mouth opened in a silent scream. His hands were on either side of me, palms to the wall, my arms linked behind his neck. He thrust upward and inward again and again, his teeth gritted, forehead shiny with perspiration. I could feel tears forming behind my eyes, I was so stimulated. Suddenly, I felt like I didn’t give a flying fuck who on the plane knew what we were up to. They’d be jealous if they had any clue how god-damned amazing this felt. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” I gasped. I don’t think it was loud enough anyone could have known.

Nick laughed breathily and increased his speed. I could feel his urgency. Any minute now and we’d both fall over the edge. I tilted my head back, biting my lips, tears streaming over my face… and that was all I could take. I felt dizzy with the eruption of pleasure as my body shook and tightened around him and he gasped as he pressed his face into my neck with a low, long moan, thrusting one last time as deep as he possibly could go and holding me there on him, as my body shook and convulsed around him and he gasped in deep breaths of air.

It wasn’t until it was over, and we were sweaty, panting, standing in the nanosecond of space between us, that I realized we hadn’t used a condom.




Nick


I stared at her and she stared back at me. I could barely breathe. She was still shaking. I ran my hands down her shoulders to her hands as I sat down on the toilet, pulling myself from her. I held her hands in mine, kissed her knuckles, her fingertips, and stared into those fucking incredible green eyes.

“Holy hell,” I whispered, voice uneven.

“I know,” she whispered back.

My mouth was dry.

We fumbled for a couple moments with the putting on of clothing. My t-shirt felt like it was glued to me because of all the sweat. Jaymie washed her face, splashing cold water onto her skin. She stared at me, looming behind her, in the mirror.

“How do we do this?” she asked thickly, glancing at the door.

“Normally, we’d go out one at a time,” I said back lowly, “But after those screams of yours, I doubt there’s any question of what we’re up to in here.” I raised an eyebrow.

Jaymie turned scarlet. “Did I really scream?”

“Yeah,” I said, grinning.

“Shit,” her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

“It’s okay,” I whispered.

“But they all know.”

I laughed, “Just imagine how jealous those girls from the terminal will be.” There’d been some fans staring at Jaymie with jealousy back at LAX when we’d boarded the plane together. She laughed. “They’re probably out there tweeting the world about this,” I snickered, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck, just under her ear.

“So all the world knows,” she said.

“Probably,” I laughed.

“Fuck,” she laughed, too.

“Precisely.”

Jaymie turned, meeting my lips with hers. “I love you,” she said.

We both froze.

We stared at each other.

I have a feeling both our eyes contained the same amount of panic in them.

Don’t, I wanted to scream. Don’t say that. Don’t say that now. Not now. Not when you know what’s happening. Don’t. Do NOT fall in love with me.

I cleared my throat, but the words wouldn’t form. I felt paralyzed in the larynx.

I pushed by her hastily and out the door, headed for my seat, my heart racing… whether from panic or residual from the sex, I couldn’t tell. Probably a mixture of both.