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Authors: Cassandra P Lewis
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was happy. If this was what being a one-man woman was about, I could handle that.
“Philippa, where are you?” I heard Simon call out as he walked into my flat on Thursday night. I walked out of my bedroom in time to see him removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt in the living room. I loved watching him undress, especially if he’d had a bad day at the office. He was so aggressive and forceful on those days, and I knew I was about to get my brains fucked out.
“I’m here, what’s up?” I asked, hopeful that he was in a bad mood.
“Pack a bag. I have a meeting in New York tomorrow. We have a flight in two hours.”
I stepped backwards, shocked.
“Simon, I have a shoot on Monday. I need to prepare.” I argued.
“You’ll be back on Sunday, and you can work while I’m in my meeting. I want to take you somewhere.” There was no point saying no, I knew this was happening, and really, I was excited about it. It wasn’t that Simon controlled me, that wasn’t why I just went with it. It was because sex with him was something that I refused to go days without. I would let him take me anywhere and do whatever he wanted as long as he fucked me, I needed it, and I was totally unashamed of that fact.
The biggest bonus of a private plane? There’s nobody to stop you from joining the mile-high club.
Two hours into our luxurious flight to New York, Simon told the crew to leave us alone. He made me kneel on the seat and wrap my arms around it. Then he pulled up my pencil skirt, pushing it up over my arse to my lower back and dragging his thumbs along my ass crack. He pushed his fingers into each side of my knickers, before gripping them, and tearing them apart. I gasped at the sound of the lace ripping, and the feel of the seams pulling tightly against my skin with the force.
Simon squeezed my arse cheeks firmly, humming appreciatively before rearing back and slapping me hard. The sting of his palm on my backside made me yelp, and I pushed backwards, begging for more. Simon stroked the hot flesh before delivering another blow, and then he knelt on the floor behind me and started planting soft kisses on my burning skin, before delicately running the tip of his tongue across my arsehole. I whimpered and pushed back, he did it again, then started to circle, applying a little more pressure, and making me moan almost uncontrollably.
I wanted more, needed it. I was aching to be filled by him. I felt so empty. I started to beg him to fuck me, I should have been ashamed of my neediness, but I didn’t give a shit, as long as I got what I wanted.
Feeling him stop and move to stand up had me trembling with anticipation; aggressively, he yanked what was left of my knickers down my thighs. Hearing the unmistakable sound of his zipper undoing and a condom packet ripping open had me digging my fingers into the leather of the headrest.
The sensation of the head of his dick pressing against the part of me that wanted him so badly was unbearable, and I pushed backwards, forcing him inside me. He let out a loud exhale and gripped my hips, holding them still as he started to fuck me. It was hard but slow, forceful; he wanted me to feel every solid inch of him.
Simon rolled his hips into me, letting his cock brush my G-spot with every move in and out, but he refused to pick up the pace. He knew I wanted him to, needed him to, but he held me firmly in his big hands. He was in charge.
Simon’s hands left my hips, but before I could get excited, he leant forward and whispered in my ear, “Don’t move a muscle.” I knew he meant it. Part of me wanted to disobey, just so that he would punish me in his delicious way. But the promise of the reward I would get for doing as I was told far outweighed my rebellious streak and I stayed as still as I could with him still completely filling me. He reached down and pressed the button on the armrest to recline the seat. As it moved backwards, I readjusted my arm position to support my body
“Philippa, where are you?” I heard Simon call out as he walked into my flat on Thursday night. I walked out of my bedroom in time to see him removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt in the living room. I loved watching him undress, especially if he’d had a bad day at the office. He was so aggressive and forceful on those days, and I knew I was about to get my brains fucked out.
“I’m here, what’s up?” I asked, hopeful that he was in a bad mood.
“Pack a bag. I have a meeting in New York tomorrow. We have a flight in two hours.”
I stepped backwards, shocked.
“Simon, I have a shoot on Monday. I need to prepare.” I argued.
“You’ll be back on Sunday, and you can work while I’m in my meeting. I want to take you somewhere.” There was no point saying no, I knew this was happening, and really, I was excited about it. It wasn’t that Simon controlled me, that wasn’t why I just went with it. It was because sex with him was something that I refused to go days without. I would let him take me anywhere and do whatever he wanted as long as he fucked me, I needed it, and I was totally unashamed of that fact.
The biggest bonus of a private plane? There’s nobody to stop you from joining the mile-high club.
Two hours into our luxurious flight to New York, Simon told the crew to leave us alone. He made me kneel on the seat and wrap my arms around it. Then he pulled up my pencil skirt, pushing it up over my arse to my lower back and dragging his thumbs along my ass crack. He pushed his fingers into each side of my knickers, before gripping them, and tearing them apart. I gasped at the sound of the lace ripping, and the feel of the seams pulling tightly against my skin with the force.
Simon squeezed my arse cheeks firmly, humming appreciatively before rearing back and slapping me hard. The sting of his palm on my backside made me yelp, and I pushed backwards, begging for more. Simon stroked the hot flesh before delivering another blow, and then he knelt on the floor behind me and started planting soft kisses on my burning skin, before delicately running the tip of his tongue across my arsehole. I whimpered and pushed back, he did it again, then started to circle, applying a little more pressure, and making me moan almost uncontrollably.
I wanted more, needed it. I was aching to be filled by him. I felt so empty. I started to beg him to fuck me, I should have been ashamed of my neediness, but I didn’t give a shit, as long as I got what I wanted.
Feeling him stop and move to stand up had me trembling with anticipation; aggressively, he yanked what was left of my knickers down my thighs. Hearing the unmistakable sound of his zipper undoing and a condom packet ripping open had me digging my fingers into the leather of the headrest.
The sensation of the head of his dick pressing against the part of me that wanted him so badly was unbearable, and I pushed backwards, forcing him inside me. He let out a loud exhale and gripped my hips, holding them still as he started to fuck me. It was hard but slow, forceful; he wanted me to feel every solid inch of him.
Simon rolled his hips into me, letting his cock brush my G-spot with every move in and out, but he refused to pick up the pace. He knew I wanted him to, needed him to, but he held me firmly in his big hands. He was in charge.
Simon’s hands left my hips, but before I could get excited, he leant forward and whispered in my ear, “Don’t move a muscle.” I knew he meant it. Part of me wanted to disobey, just so that he would punish me in his delicious way. But the promise of the reward I would get for doing as I was told far outweighed my rebellious streak and I stayed as still as I could with him still completely filling me. He reached down and pressed the button on the armrest to recline the seat. As it moved backwards, I readjusted my arm position to support my body
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