Submission Specialist(Still a Bad Boy #2)(120)

“Look at you. Get a wedding ring and think you can start biting the finger that feeds you, huh? I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you, little girl.”

Smack!

I moaned like a little slut, his little slut, and somewhere in the multi-colored haze of barely restrained orgasm an image flashed through my mind of me on a beach somewhere with two big handprints peeking out of my bikini bottoms from my in-flight entertainment. He took that weighty cock in his hand again and pushed it between my legs, stroking my labia and catching up new dribbles of my natural lubricants until he was as slippery as I was.

When he started pushing at my entrance with intent, I braced myself. No matter how many times he fucked me, getting penetrated by a cock like that was always a life-changing experience.

Tighter and tighter my pussy was stretched around the head of his cock, and I was caught in that delicious torture between needing to pull away and needing to push back at him. Thankfully, pinned against the couch with his hand on my lower back, that wasn’t a decision that was in my power. Jace was in control of my pleasure and pain.

I shook my head from side to side, a sheen of sweat breaking out on my forehead as I was once again pushed beyond my assumed limits. An admission of defeat was hovering behind my lips when he finally slipped inside me and that seemingly endless thickness started filling me up.

When he was halfway in, he pulled back until the bumpy ridge of his cock teased my opening again before slamming himself home inside me so hard that I thought he might have broken the couch free, bolted to the floor though it was. I squealed in fiery pain under an ocean of ecstasy, a sound that Jace quickly turned into a kind of warbling cry as he showed me how much energy he’d saved up during our day apart.

Smack! Smack!

I cried out in a blur of sensation as my vision likewise distorted every time he thrust into me with body-shaking force. It was almost impossible to hold any kind of rational thought when you were the focus of such physical power and lust, but some awe-struck voice in my head said “wow, my husband fucks hard!”

My hands roamed freely over my own body, squeezing my breasts through my wedding dress. My nipples were so hard they almost hurt, and everywhere I touched seemed to leave tingling electric trails on my hyper-sensitive skin.

I reached back and felt Jace’s hand on my ass, and the wedding ring I myself had put on his finger. While I held on to him, our rings made little clinking sounds as he pounded into me.

With his other hand, Jace grabbed my hair in a messy ponytail and pulled my head up. For a second I looked up at the ceiling of the plane before my husband found some miraculous higher gear in which to fuck me and my eyes rolled back in my head.

My orgasm exploded throughout my body, pulsing on my clit and sending blood rushing to my head. Jace grunted in satisfaction as my pussy convulsed and gripped him with every wave of my climax, dominating my world as only he could.

The steady rhythm of our bodies slapping together became more sporadic and a moment later, I felt a huge and hot splash of cum deep inside my pussy. I closed my eyes completely as I floated on the trailing edge of my orgasm, reveling in listening to my sexy-as-fuck husband taking every last ounce of pleasure he could from my body, a wife’s precious gift.

Eventually he let go of my hair, I flopped over the couch again and we became still. I tried to push myself up on my hands, but found I didn’t have the strength to do it straight away, so we both just basked in the afterglow and caught our breath.

I could feel him, still buried to the hilt inside me, his cock twitching with the echoes of his own climax as the last few drops of his creamy semen were welcomed into the core of my sex. That was quite a way to join the mile high club.

On my second attempt, I was able to rise up and support my weight on my hands. Jace recaptured his grip on my hair and pulled me the rest of the way, pushing me down to my knees in front of him.

“Clean me,” he said.

His cock was still hard, and I eagerly moved my mouth to his balls, giving them a thorough tongue-bath before moving upwards and cleaning his cock of our combined juices. It was an intoxicating potion, all mixed up the way our two lives were now as well. It was the essence of us.

By the time I was done, I could have eaten my dinner off it. Hell, if there was any chocolate body paint on board, I might eat my dessert off it later. I looked up at him and batted my eyelids.

“So, where are we going?” I asked.

“You’ll see when we land.”

*****

I sat on the very sofa that I’d been fucked over, picking at the remnants of a meal that put all other airline food to shame. Somewhere on board there was probably a world-class kitchen with a private chef, but I hadn’t explored that far yet.