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It’s hard to laugh with a mouth full of cock, but I couldn’t help it when hearing the announcement, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are starting our descent…” just as my lips started their descent onto Adam’s dick.The rest of the announcement was irrelevant. I couldn’t remember if I’d left my seat vertical when I followed him to the rear toilet — my only backward glance a guilty one up the aisle for the return of my travelling companion — and the only belts in here were unfastened and dropped to their owners’ ankles. No way was I going to return to my assigned seat to follow those instructions now, not after eleven hours of fantasising about this moment. Since the senior flight attendant was the one with his hand on the back of my head, pushing me onto his cock, I had no fear of this severe violation of aviation regulations being rudely interrupted.He pressed me into the stubble above his shaft, the scent of his sweet sweat filling my nose and the taste of his precum filling my mouth, his bulbous tip already poking the entrance to my throat. Blood pumped into the veins resting on my tongue, which I wiggled against the warm skin. Drool pooled beneath it from the invasion until it ran out down my chin. He kept me there, sucking and spluttering but unable to swallow however I moved my etimesgut escort head, only pulling me off him when he was fully hard.Gasping, I grabbed his slick shaft, desperate not to lose contact even for a second. I looked up over his uniform, immaculate despite the force of the kiss that had greeted me when he pulled me through the door barely a minute earlier, to his brown eyes, staring intently at me.“I’ve wanted this since you started the safety demonstration,” I told him, pumping his length. He laughed and shoved me down again, thrusting his hips.“In-flight safety demonstrations? That’s a weird fetish you’ve got there!”“Mmmff mmff mm mff-mfff,” was all that came out, but I was trying to say, “It’s not my fetish.”Usually, I zoned out within five seconds of the take-off routine, but not today. I had been mesmerised by the movement of his manicured but masculine fingers holding the seatbelt in the air and his strong hands tugging the lifejacket tag to demonstrate inflation, imagining how they would feel around my wrists. Then he turned to point out the exits, giving me a view of his firm glutes in tight, fitted trousers. I had shifted in my seat, trying to discreetly shift my growing erection with my forearm when he turned back, hands sweeping eryaman escort to indicate the lights in the floor that would guide us in the event of an emergency. My eyes had devoured him from shining black shoes to stylishly spiked black hair, wondering if the tan was real and hoping the shape I saw at his crotch was not just my imagination.That hope had been realised, the head currently forcing its way into my throat until I gagged and spluttered, tears streaming down my cheeks. Desperately, I freed my cock and stroked it fast with the dangling spit as lube while gagging on his.“Fuck!” I gasped when he released me again.“Would you like something else before we land, sir?” he asked, the “sir” contemptuous as his inner dom came out. Even before he’d pushed me to my knees on the hard floor, it had been a ridiculous title — he had to be early thirties at least, so probably five years older than me or more.For an instant, I was too stunned by the speed of events to get what he was hinting at, then remembered the condom he had slipped to me with his invitation. I pulled out the packet and ripped it open. While I pinched the tip, my slippery fingers struggled briefly to unroll it over his curved, rock-hard shaft, then, before I could stand, he grabbed sincan escort my head with both hands and roughly face-fucked me again, coating the latex with throat slime. It popped out of my mouth when he dragged me up by my hair and squashed my tear- and spit-streaked cheek to the mirror, the shiny new ring on my finger — forgotten in my cocklust — clacking against the glass as I braced myself.“How?” he asked and spat a large wad of saliva onto his thick cock, already rubbing it over my puckered entrance. “Hard or gentle, sir?”“Hard.” I blew spit bubbles onto the glass, trembling with anticipation.“Louder, sir.”“Fuck me fucking hard!” By then, I didn’t care if the whole plane heard. He laughed. In a single thrust, he was in, and I cried out in shock. My jeans were still around my ankles, preventing any attempt to open up wider for him, but, after the initial sudden, unprepared stretch of my fuckpucker, came the intense rush of endorphins. He paused, I thought to allow me to get accommodated to him, but really to adjust his stance with one foot on the toilet seat, then he gripped my waist and my hair.“There may be some turbulence,” he murmured in my ear.I started to laugh, but it turned into a cry as he rammed back inside my mancunt. The combination of the length of his dick and the cramped angle forced on us by the cubicle meant he was reaching the perfect spot on my prostate with each of his frantic thrusts, counteracting the pain from my thighs being smashed into the sink each time. I did what I could to push back at him and clench around him even harder.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
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