| We were flying to Rome overnight. It was our first trip after getting engaged, and my fiancée had been all over me from the moment we boarded. Leaning on me, touching my leg, giving me that look. I could already tell what was on her mind.
Midway through the flight, cabin lights were dimmed and things were quiet. She leaned in and whispered, “Do you think we could do it here?”
I looked at her for a second. She was serious. I just said, “If you want to, yeah.”
She nodded once. That was it.
We closed the suite door, reclined the seat all the way down, and threw a blanket over. I took off my jacket and laid it down to cushion the seat a bit. She slipped her underwear off and lay back, pulled me on top of her. I unzipped, slid things down, and we started.
We moved slowly. Couldn’t risk too much noise. She wrapped her legs around me tight, barely breathing at first. Her hands were on my back, gripping my shirt. I kissed her neck, and she trembled under me. It wasn’t wild, but it was intense in a different way—because we had to stay quiet, stay controlled, stay close.
It actually worked better than I thought space-wise. I kept one hand bracing against the seat, the other under her back. She kept biting her lip, eyes locked on mine the entire time. She got wetter the longer we went—her thighs were squeezing around me like she was trying to hold me in. |
