IN ANOTHER WORLD
(a complete fiction by Cella)
From the author:
To those of you who have read my past fics will see, this story is a bit of a departure. Ok, well, “a bit” is an understatement. My fellow fic ho, Julie, thought I needed to stretch myself and challenged me to write something...well, like this. It took quite a while to write, but actually, it was a good exercise. Even though this was my first attempt at such writing and there's always room for improvement, I still think it came out pretty good...pretty well...oh, Clayton just email me which one it is.
You may wonder if I would want Clayton to read this. I wouldn't HAND this to him, but if he happened across this while surfing, I wouldn't mind. He's a grown man and I think he can handle it. (Ooh, that didn't...oh, you know what I mean.) I just know there's a heat beneath his winter. (Believe me, if I can write this, he can “play through the pain” and sing “Touch.”) Besides, I still have lots of sweet left in me – I'm still the same girl who blew him a kiss across “The Street.”
Some of this story may sound a little familiar, but don't let that stop you – it is different. So, final warning – if you're not interested in reading “NC-17” material, put the story down now, otherwise, thanks for reading.
~*~*~*~*~
A thousand flashes flew as he waved to the reporters from midway up the steps of the private plane – finally time to go home after the last concert of the tour. He knew he was their Golden Boy, making them plenty of money off all those female fans with every picture and article they printed and aired. He was especially photogenic tonight – he had changed into an outfit that would drop the entire Cult of Clay population to their knees, but he hoped in a little while, just one would do so. He made his final wave to the hungry corps and ran up into the plane.
She sat in a leather chair halfway back in the luxurious jet, going over some tour paperwork. She noticed all the flashes outside – he'd be aboard any second – and her heart began to pound. Even though she worked for him this entire tour and was always business when she was with him, deep down, she wanted him as much as the next red-blooded American girl.
The high-pitched whine of the plane warming up drowned out hearing any footsteps or the words he spoke as he boarded the plane. She saw him step aboard and talk to the captain as he closed the cabin door. That's when she noticed what he wore. She maintained her blank stare, but her heart was heading for her throat.
It was a very fitting black leather jacket that came just slightly below his waist – the rear view was tight and exquisite...what kind of jeans are those, anyway? She couldn't see much more until he sat down on the white leather banquette across from her, then she just looked back down at her paperwork.
“That had to be my show ever. I thought I was great in Albuquerque, but tonight beat that by a landslide.”
She knew what he was talking about, and yes, he performed almost too well. Her knees went weak more than once or twice over tonight's extraordinary performance.
“Yeah, you were really great tonight.”
“Just great? I was a BLAZING FIRE tonight!”
He paused. The fire, however, isn't out yet, honey.
He looked at her, looking down at her paperwork. Isn't that cute – she's being coy. She's always coy, which only... His eyes closed and his heart raced even more.
They were both quiet as the plane took off and got to cruising altitude. I'll let her sit there and simmer a little. All the better...
The captain turned off the seatbelt sign. 90 minutes until the plane lands...I wonder how we could pass the time? A devilish little smile came over his face as he stared across at her. She sat with her eyes closed, hands gripped to her chair.
Time to start this delicious game.
“Now, why would someone who's afraid of flying take a job as a tour manager?” I've seen the answer to that in her eyes - brief glimpses of what's underneath that proper exterior.
A bit speechless, the real reason flew through her mind first. Because you're hotter than molten steel and there was no way I would pass this up. Then she looked up at him.
“Well, it was a great opportunity, and at least the flying didn't happen too much on this tour.”
Isn't she the little liar...but that's ok. Let's take her mind off her fear of flying.
“Well, that's true,” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up and removed his jacket. “Opportunities like this don't come around very often.” He draped the jacket across his arm and gave her a quick subtle pose just before he turned and took a step away from her, reached up to get a hanger and hung the jacket up in the small closet.
Oh, holy... She got more than enough of a look at him now. He's never worn jeans slung THAT low before!
The tightest low-slung jeans, in an almost unworldly shade of dark blue, with subtle tonal stripes running down the length, accentuating his already lanky figure and shapely apple of an ass. How in the world can anyone say he couldn't be a model.
Got enough of the backside, honey? Here comes the other half of the show.
He closed the closet door, slowly turned toward her and faked a yawn. His stance spread and arms lifted high as he seductively stretched his entire body.
She stopped breathing as she watched him. That beautiful body was wrapped in a thin, illegally-tight rust-colored t-shirt – his back arched just enough so that the contours of his toned chest were marvelously displayed. The shirt sleeves were just a little extra short, which made his arms look even longer and biceps more defined. She took it all in, from his slender outstretched fingers down to his... Oh, my God, when did he buy THOSE boots?!? But what she noticed most of all – worst of all – was his navel on his flat stomach, flanked by the contours of his hipbones, followed quickly by a road of cinnamon hair leading below the waist of those evil jeans. He sat back down on the banquette with his legs outstretched and knees quite apart.
She couldn't take it anymore and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Excuse me, I'll be back in a minute.” She rushed to the end of the cabin and into the lavatory.
Shit, this is going even better than I thought. She NEVER gets out of that chair in-flight.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She ran a washcloth under the cold water and patted her neck, trying to cool herself. In the mirror, she saw the shower on board and wished she could cool herself off that way. She sat on the toilet seat, folded her arm and rested her head for a few minutes.
“Settle down, take it easy,” she mumbled quietly to herself. “He doesn't know what he's doing to you. He doesn't know just how stunning he is. Just calm down and take a deep breath.” Soon her heart was back to beating normally and she came out of the lavatory. As she took a few steps forward, Clay suddenly leapt up and approached, stopping a step before her. He slid his thumbs into his front belt loops and the rest of his fingers into his very tight pockets, which lowered the waist of his jeans into an almost obscene position.
“Hello, honey.”
“Um, hello.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
Her heart didn't remain in her chest long. She felt her throat dry and she swallowed.
“Yes, fine thanks.”
He took a step forward. “I think you're lying to me.”
She took a step backward. “What? Why would I...?”
“I think the cabin's become a little too warm for you.”
Sweet Jesus, help me.
He took another step forward. “Tell me, do you like this outfit?”
She took another step back. “Well...it's very flattering on you.”
“I'm glad you like it. I wore it just for you.”
He took a last step forward. Her last step back knocked her against the door and gave her quite a startle. He couldn't help but give off an evil little crooky grin. The fear in those beautiful dark eyes of hers is making this all the sweeter.
“Clay, this may sound silly, but...are...are you trying to...to...um...seduce...me?”
He grinned like a Cheshire cat, and a playful look mixed with the sparks in his jade-green eyes.
“Oh, no...not trying. Am.”
Ok, well maybe he does know how stunning he is, just a little.
She grabbed for the door handle when he took another half-step forward and reached for her face. As if by instinct, her eyes rolled back at the feel of his caress across her cheekbone. Yes...that's it. His eyes traveled down her body and back up.
“Do you know what it feels like to have ten thousand women's libidos wrapped around your finger?”
“No...no, I can't say as I'd know that. I bet it's...”
“It's the most incredible high...the most AMAZING aphrodisiac. But tonight, I discovered an even more potent aphrodisiac.”
She could smell hot cinnamon on his breath as he spoke and she swallowed once more.
“What...would that be?”
“Before going on stage tonight, I thought about being on this plane with you, having you all to myself. And when I performed in front of those ten thousand screaming women, I imagined...performing...only for you, and they went wilder tonight than any other time I can remember.”
He slid one finger and lifted up her chin. His eyes pierced hers so hard it hurt.
“We all got off in that arena because of you...and the way you make my entire being ache for your touch.”
He slid his finger down the low, open neck of her ivory silk blouse, then lifted the green butterfly pendant off her chest and glanced at it with a satisfied smile. His eyes bore into hers once more.
“And now I've captured you, my butterfly. The concert was my sundae, and now, you're the...cherry...on top.”
She tried to speak, but her trembling body could hardly utter a reply.
“Um, Clay I...”
“Yes?”
“This is...”
He continued to hold the pendant, but he laid the back of his hand against her and subtly stroked her chest. “What is it, honey?”
“This is...making me quite...”
“Quite what?”
“Quite...nervous.”
He smirked. “Oh, I don't think you're nervous, honey. I think you're exhilarated.” His finger slid over the buttons of her blouse to her waist, then down her hip and thigh.
“This IS what you want, isn't it?”
He leaned forward and pressed her hard against the door, grinding his hips into hers, just to make sure she knew how aroused he was. Her knees grew weak and she could barely speak as he lifted his weight from her.
She couldn't look at him. Her eyes were on the floor. “I...I...”
“I KNOW this is what you want. Tell me. Say it.”
“I...want this...but...”
He ran the fingers of his left hand through her soft hair and his mouth went to her ear. Her eyes closed as she heard and felt his warm breath invade her. His lips and tongue indulged on her lobe and sent a thousand shivers through her.
“You taste so good,” he whispered. “I bet you taste good all over.” She couldn't understand how she remained standing. He gave her lobe one last flicker as his lips moved slightly away.
“Call out to me,” he whispered.
“I...” she barely replied. He talked to her slowly, in a low, throaty voice.
“I know you want me, and I know you've cried out for me a million times, wishing I was there with you, bringing you to sweet, powerful climax.” He ran his fingers lightly up her neck and she moved with his touch. He leaned to her ear and whispered his demand again.
“Call out to me – I'm here.”
“Clayton...” she sighed.
“Yes,” he whispered long and slow as he relished her first acquiescence. His hand glided up and grazed her breast, then he looked down into her eyes.
“Say it again. Call my name.”
He towered over her. There was no escape.
“Clayton...”
“Yes, honey,” he breathed.
He bent down and lightly wrapped his long fingers around her ankles, then slowly caressed her calves and knees with his fingertips as he rose up. Her skin tingled at his light touch and sent a shiver through her. He stopped just below the hem of her burgundy silk skirt.
“You have the smoothest skin,” he whispered. “I bet you...” A flush came over him at his thought. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then opened them to her once more.
“You always smell like baby oil. I bet you use it every time you leave the shower. I can just imagine you drizzling and slathering it all over your warm...wet...naked body.”
She took in a ragged breath. “Clay, is this, uh...your way of breaking my fear of flying...or...of...breaking me?”
He grinned from one side of his mouth. “I don't plan on breaking anything – unless we knock something over, of course. How can you break someone when what you want is bubbling just below the surface? Below YOUR surface. You've made it almost too easy – not that I'm complaining – I've enjoyed what little fight you've put up against me.”
Never releasing her from his hard gaze, he stood up a bit more, which raised her skirt ever-so slightly. “And let's just say that breaking that ridiculous fear will be a great side benefit. I got you out of that chair – now to get you out of those clothes.”
For several long seconds they stared – she looked deep into his hungry jade eyes and wanted what they were giving with every fiber of her being. She moved her mouth slightly toward his, but stopped, as if the final shreds of her principles were in a last, desperate hold; he knew what was stopping her. He raised her left hand for both of them to see.
“You won't need these,” he said as he slipped her wedding rings off her finger. “For the next hour and a half, you're all mine.” Before she could protest, she watched him put the rings deep in his front jeans pocket.
She couldn't breathe. “We can't do this. I can't...” He lightly ran his fingers through her hair and again she couldn't help but move with his touch.
“Oh, yes we can...and we will...and it will be BEYOND amazing. There aren't any scruples here at 30,000 feet. The captain turned off that sign.” He leaned his hips into hers once again.
“I want you. You want me. It's that simple. Let your mind go and this tantalizing body of yours will follow. Your husband doesn't make you feel the things I make you feel. Just imagine all those times you'll be smiling because you got to fuck pop royalty.”
She swallowed a breath. “What...if I say no?”
He let go of her and stood back half a step. “All right, go ahead. Say no. If you say no, I'll stop. Even more, I'll spend the rest of the trip in the cockpit with the Captain so you KNOW I won't bother you again tonight, and I won't ever bother you again. I've misjudged before, and I'd rather not do it at all than do it with someone who doesn't want to. I don't fuck...or not fuck...and tell, either. You're in the clear. I'll be disappointed, but no hard feelings. Well, except for the one between my legs.”
She just looked at him. Her whole body was already in overdrive, ready to have him take her right there against the door. She could still feel him, even though he wasn't touching her. She scanned his face – she gazed at that body – she remembered all the fantasies and the desires her mind conjured when she watched him perform venue after venue. “Yes” never left her eyes. When no answer came from her lips, he smiled.
“I knew you couldn't say it.” He reached for the top button of his jeans. They stared hard at each other as she heard the rustle of him unbuttoning his fly. He lowered those jeans to “obscene.”
“Underwear is so overrated, don't you think? It just gets in the way.” She felt his hands on her skirt once more, this time moving faster, rougher and higher. She sighed when the back of his hands slid under the front of her black hipsters, and for a few moments, he caressed his fingers against her. Her skin was on fire and sensitive to his touch. At times, she could feel the hair on the back of his hands brush her lower stomach. He watched a flush wash over her and heard her breath become ragged.
“You've been married too long – I can feel you're a natural woman. I'm sorry you never thought you had a chance with me. The single ones, and even the married ones, shave at least a little, just in case.” He grazed her inner thighs and calves as he slowly lowered the hipsters to the floor. His hands slid up and behind her, then in one smooth swoop, his knees bent and he gripped the backs of her thighs, lifting her up to him. He tipped her hips and slid himself inside.
The first pierce was exquisite for both of them as he leaned her hard against the door. At first, she didn't know what to do with her arms, then she wrapped her hands under his arms for support. He strained with every motion and soon, his face was glistening from the effort.
“Oh, Lord, you're so tight, so wet, so hot, honey – just like I knew you'd be,” he breathlessly exclaimed.
Her eyes were closed, lost in the rhythm and the moment. “Oh, God, Clay yes,” she instinctively sighed.
He watched the utter rapture on her face. “Yes, that's what I want to hear,” he panted. “The more you tell me, the better I'll give it to you, honey.” His thrusts became faster, stronger and deeper – she tightened around him and he released a fierce, thrilled gasp.
“Good God, now you're rewarding me! Go, honey...my God, don't stop!”
Her arms quivered. “I don't know if I can hold on.”
“I've got you. Hang on, I'll take you for a ride.”
Without missing a stroke, he spun around and they both landed roughly against the seat of the leather banquette. She relaxed around him as he sunk further between her legs. He altered his motions so he could take his time with her in this new, more comfortable position. His grind turned slow, deep and purposeful. From the way her body moved under him, to the ecstasy aflush on her face, he could tell her passion was building once more. Each undulation released sighs and gentle whispers from her slightly-open mouth.
“Yes, Clay...oh, yes...”
“I can see you're enjoying this immensely,” he whispered. “And the feeling is so mutual.”
Her eyes opened to his gaze. “God yes, Clay. Don't stop,” she quietly expelled.
“And to think, you came so close to saying no. Let's see what else I can do to make you never regret this.”
He lifted himself enough to reach for the buttons of her blouse, and smiled a little once it laid open. “Maybe you did hope that one day...” he said as he found a pretty lace bra with a front closure. Once he released the hooks, she felt the cool air of the cabin over her exposed breasts. He cupped her right breast then stroked the taut nipple with his thumb. His warm mouth smothered her left breast, and she took in a sharp breath as his tongue and teeth teased her, all the while, their hips swayed together.
“Oh, God, Clay, you're magnificent. Please don't stop...”
She reached for his dark auburn hair and felt moist heat radiate from him as she ran her fingers over his scalp. With both hands, she smoothed his sweaty forehead, then took tight fistfuls of hair as she succumbed to each wild sensation he subjected to her body.
God, I'm so glad I took care of business before I got here, he thought. It's amazing how much longer a body can last with a little...preparation.
“Clay, don't stop,” she chanted in a whisper. “You feel so good. Please don't stop...please Clay...fuck me Clay...please...please fuck me.”
With that plead, he knew she was all his – completely ready for an ultimate climax with him.
“Oh, yes I will, honey. I'll fuck you. It'll be spectacular,” he said breathlessly. He moved faster and stronger. “Call out to me, honey. Say it.”
“Clayton...” she whispered.
“Cry out to me, I can't hear it – I know you can feel it.” He flowed furious deep within her.
“Clayton,” she cried louder as she tightened around him once again. His eyes closed as he let out an ecstatic groan. “Oh, honey, I can feel you so tight, I can hardly move inside you. My God, how do you do that?”
“Clayton, yes...” she exclaimed as she relaxed her grip a little. He continued with his fervent pace – beads of sweat decended down his temples from the exquisite effort. Suddenly, he heard the pitch of her moans change, and her sighs became small cries – he knew she was near the brink. He knew soon he would also be there.
“Come for me, honey...come for me.”
“I'm almost there, Clay, don't stop,” she cried.
He used every bit of reserve strength to take her. “Yes...yes...let it happen...come for me.”
She took in several quick breaths and cried out to him as powerful shudders rumbled through her. Her body wildly lurched and caused her to fully tighten once again for him, which sent him to an awesome summit, releasing a yawp and a grunt from deep within his chest, and reciprocated with his last penetrating low thrusts, causing her body to again twitch and shudder beneath him. He finally fell on top of her, nearly exhausted. He felt her skin dampen from his perspiration as he caught his breath, and felt her chest heave. He raised his eyes to see she was panting, but her face was relaxed and sated. They lay together a while as they recovered from their last, sweet tremors.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He moved his arms under hers, lifted her head and shoulders up to him, and greeted her with a wicked smile. “I hope you don't think I'm done with you.”
Her mind didn't know what to think of the words – her body felt fantastic already. “I just need a little time...” she managed to speak as she lay on the banquette.
Clay slid his arms out from under her, but his hands never left her body. As he lifted himself slowly from her, his hands glided over her breasts in tandem, his long thumbs teasingly grazed her nipples and she flinched from being so sensitive. He moved over her bare stomach and lower – his fingers smoothed her skirt – she again felt his thumbs brush her low, then his hands parted, wrapped and slid down the length of her legs. His fingertips lightly tickled her ankles.
“I can't get enough of how smooth you are,” he quietly said. His eyes closed and his baby oil thoughts returned to him as his hands moved upward and caressed her legs once more. His daydream mixed with the delicious reality of their coupling and created a perfectly-erotic fantasia. She lay there with her eyes closed as well and allowed herself to feel his deft touch. Her body tingled all over; she was glad this wasn't going to end yet.
His hands traveled down to her ankles once more. He smiled and slowly slid off her simple pumps. “Have I mentioned yet how much I like it when the shoes stay on? Well, I guess every guy does.” For a few moments, his mind wandered to another one of his favorite visions. “There's just something so sensual about a woman in heels...when the heels aren't anywhere near the ground.” She heard her shoes hit the floor, followed by the rustling of fabric as he lifted his jeans slightly and tucked himself in a bit.
He stood there and just looked at her lay in repose. The fruits of my labor – another satisfied siren. Damn, I love the perks. But why stop at satisfied when I can go for completely spent – both she and me. He looked forward to “Round Two.”
When he didn't touch her for a minute, she opened her eyes and found a shameless grin stared back at her – a new look of wanton, lecherous anticipation was in his eyes, and his pearlescent teeth were bared just slightly, as if he desired another bite of a sweet treat. I can't believe that I'M making him feel this way. She smiled a bit.
“Why...do I have a feeling...that I'm not going to be able to walk once you're done with me?”
His teeth bared bigger as his crooked smile widened. “Because you have very accurate senses.” He leaned and reached out for her and she instinctively put her hands out in response. They interlocked wrists and with a giggle from her, his biceps tensed and he cleanly jerked her up to standing.
“How did we do all that with our clothes on?” she joked. In response, he immediately slid her open blouse and bra onto the floor and her skirt fell back into place.
“It's fun doing it with your clothes on. It feels so good, but still leaves you with something to look forward to.” He grabbed at her hips and stared into her eyes, with a little look down at her feminine curves once or twice. “I think we're both dirty enough now.” His hands directed hers to the bottom of his tight t-shirt, then he lifted his own arms up into a sexy stretch. “Care to get cleaned up?” She peeled the shirt up and off him. “There, now we're both topless.”
She looked at his thin, trim form and couldn't help wanting to feel him. He closed his eyes and reveled in her light touch as she moved up to his shoulders, then down over his soft, coppery chest hair and took time to graze over his hard nipples. She applied a firmer grip and felt every tight curve of his slightly washboard-toned stomach, then her touch turned back to a soft, feminine dandle as she moved lower down the cinnamon road to his very open button fly. He felt his blood grow warmer and he sighed.
“Shit, what you do to my body.”
Her hands traveled even lower and slid inside his tight jeans. Her palms felt rough denim as the backs of her hands brushed against his soft copper threads. She lightly ran the sides of both hands against his smoothness. His legs grew a bit weak and he grabbed her hips. “Good God...I never thought you could be such a tease.” He found her watching him, looking a bit smug. His teeth showed once again from a one-sided smile. “I'll reward you later for that.”
With a wink, she removed her hands and walked toward the lavatory, picking up her panties along the way. Once inside, she turned to him, twirled the black hipsters on one finger and summoned him with the other. He stood there and chuckled, exceedingly pleased by this turn of events. He picked their garments from the floor, and with a hard, never-wavering stare followed her in, closed and locked the door.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
They stood in the middle of the lavatory with their tops strewn once again around their feet. Her dark eyes gazed low, then again up to him as she gently pushed him back against the door.
“I guess I haven't told YOU yet how much I adore a man in boots. The way he walks taller and prouder in them – the way they give such a confident swagger to even the most modest man's step. The mere sound of walking in them is sexy. But, to have you right here in those jeans and those boots...looking like Abercrombie and Ralph Lauren should be fighting over you...my imagination can't conjure anything sexier.”
His lip lifted and a couple teeth shone. “You HAVE been dying to get with me, haven't you? Not just since I got on the plane, but this entire tour. I just knew there was a wildly passionate woman under that all-business persona of yours, and damn if I wasn't drawn right into your flame.”
Suddenly she grew sheepish, not accustomed to hearing this incredibly sexy man refer to her in those terms. It's the talk reserved for movie starlets and supermodels, not for me. The look in her eyes changed and her head dropped a bit. He reached for her chin and lifted her eyes back to his impatient ones.
“Shit, yes, you!”
Her eyes squinted a bit. “How did you...”
“How did I know what you were thinking? Been there, done that. I love being with REAL women, not those impossibly-thin ones in the magazines. Just because I'm filthy rich and can have any woman I want doesn't mean my tastes changed. God knows I tried out a few of them, but you can't imagine how much it hurts to be fucking one of them and have our hip bones knock into each other. Screw that shit. I like a little padding, some curves, something to grab on to. Curves are what makes a woman a woman, and you are my kind of woman. Now get rid of that insecure little girl and bring back that fire in your eyes, damn you! You had a great angle working, don't stop now!”
She chuckled a bit and looked back down at his boots. Damn, them is nice boots, attached to a pair of fine jeans attached to one hell of a body. She took in a long, deep breath and looked back up at him. The vixen was back in her eyes.
Yes...much better, honey.
“So tell me, did YOU pick out this little outfit or did Ralph Lauren himself show up to dress you?”
“Let's just say my stylist is getting a huge bonus check from me when I get home.”
She leaned into him as her hands reached around to the small of his bare back. “Yes, he definitely outdid himself.”
Inside his jeans she slid and caressed the soft peachfuzz on his firm derriere. From so close, his warm coppery chest emitted a blend of clean ocean breeze and faint musk. He closed his eyes, leaned his head against the door and absorbed the feel of her gentle hands on his skin.
“God, the only thing better than you touching me like this is feeling myself inside you.”
She eventually moved forward to his hips, then emerged from the jeans just long enough to grip the waist. She moved downward about an inch then suddenly stopped. “Shit,” she whispered, then purposefully looked up at him.
“Boots. Off. Now.”
YES! From vixen to dominatrix. “Now THAT'S what I'm talking about, honey!”
She made a little gnarled smile, a bit surprised herself. “Less talk; more boots.”
He chuckled as she released the jeans and let him bend down to grip the ginger-brown ostrich skin boots. With a few firm tugs, his boots and socks were off, revealing his long, strong feet. She set the boots neatly in a far corner then returned to him against the door. “I'd hate to see those denizens of masculinity get wet.” She again gripped the low, open waist of the jeans. “Now, where were we?”
They lowered once more. She lightly, teasingly blew a puff of cool air at him as she passed his manhood. He giggled, amazed at how she could so seamlessly move from serious to funloving and back. Once she defeated the evil jeans and they finally laid in a heap on the floor, his hand reached down for her. She grabbed hold, and with the same strength he showed on the banquette, easily brought her back to standing.
“Almost done,” he said with a smile. He reached for her hips and found the zipper on her skirt. It soon floated to the floor.
“Time to create some steam.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The rush of the warm shower nearly drowned out the sound of the plane, though neither were aware of anything but the other. Under his control, he guided her into the rainshower-like stream and smoothed her hair as it soaked under the deluge. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to move with the touch of his hand. He deftly coddled her face, as if studying every curve and angle. Fingertips rubbed over her nose, ears and lobes, then he softly gripped either side of her neck – his long thumbs went to the notch in her neck and his fingers followed, caressing her shoulders, collarbone and chest.
He continued downward, cupping and again teasing her until she shivered – apparently still sensitive – his hands followed the shape of her full breasts. When he was satisfied with that part of her, he again traveled lower, then slid behind and tickled the little hollow at the small of her back. She flinched a bit and made an inaudible titter. Lower still, he kneaded her hips and bottom. Clay knew from her sighs and the relaxed look on her drenched face that his excruciatingly-sensational pet brought her once again to submission. He could also see she was still a bit wobbly and weak standing there. Oh, she is so right about not being able to walk once I'm done with her.
“Here, honey. Turn around.”
He leaned her back against him, her face now clear of the shower's spray. Behind her, she could feel his excitement grow, but before she had the opportunity to further arouse that area on him, his long left arm wrapped itself sturdy around her chest. She was locked in his firm embrace as the water poured loud in their ears. He laid an ever-so-gentle bite just under her jawline before he spoke.
“Don't worry about falling down,” he said just before he went after her ear with his tongue then gently suckled on her lobe. Somewhere in the feeling, his right arm expertly stroked all over her wet breasts. She shifted her weight to keep steady.
“Just enjoy this. I have you, butterfly.”
He could feel her heart pound harder than the water around them. Her head moved with and against his advance. The only way she knew she was breathing was from the gasps she took in as she allowed him to play her body like a finely-tuned instrument.
“Yes, Clay...oh, yes,” she would sigh.
His right hand moved lower as his mouth continued to assault her ear, neck and shoulder. Her stomach tightened as his fingertips dandled the area immediately around her belly button. A little smile came over him.
“Oh, you're sensitive right there. I think I got 'ya.” He settled his entire hand against her stomach and she tightened even more.
“All right, I won't do that. I don't want to do anything you wouldn't enjoy.”
He dandled further downward. “I KNOW you'll enjoy this, though,” he purred. Gently, he clutched small tufts of her wet mane, feeling the soft, feminine hair between his fingers. Her head fell back against his collarbone and she emitted more sighs, inaudible to him over the water's rush, but he felt her hips move slightly, involuntarily with his fondle. He moved to her inner thigh and gave a gentle press.
“Spread your legs a bit, honey.”
His fingers traveled in search of that sweet spot. Her soft cry told him when he found it.
Her body would at once tighten then relax with each up and downstroke. She gasped and sighed his name louder over the shower's rush as he expertly stroked faster little by little.
“Yes, honey, feel it. Feel it.”
Her body writhed as the tension within her grew. He knew that if she was tightening outside, she was also tightening inside, and he didn't want that to go to waste. You're going to love this now.
He released his left arm from her chest and sent it down to the right. “Don't worry – I still have you. You won't fall.”
He slipped his long, slender middle finger deep into her tightness. Her hands gripped his thighs, her head heaved back and she cried out in pure ecstasy. She was too lost in it all to realize he was again ready for her.
“I won't let you finish without me.”
Thoroughly helpless, she begged for him. “Clay, be inside me.”
He slipped out of her then took her by the waist. In a smooth swirl he placed her back against the wall and faced her. “I want to be inside you again,” he demanded as he bent down a bit and grabbed for her just under her bottom, lifting her a bit. “Give it to me, honey.”
“Yes...be inside me,” she cried. Her legs wrapped around his hips instinctively as he pulled her up and she laced her fingers behind his neck. Both let out a yawp and shudder as they pierced once again. He turned and leaned himself against the back shower wall. Her weight and his angle steadied him and afforded them both sweet, deeper penetration.
“Ride me, honey,” he cried over the loud stream. Her back straightened then curved, throwing her chest forward and her chin up. He could see glimpses of her gnashed teeth through her half-open mouth. He felt her hips move faster at his demand – low, raw groans of sheer pleasure released from them both. Their noise and calls even drowned out the shower's rush.
“Oh, God, you're so tight!”
She tightened even more. His deep, ecstatic roar seemed almost inhuman.
“Yes, honey – you're so tight, it's evil! Shit, how do you do that!”
He was by all means reciprocating the pleasure she imposed on him. “Don't stop, Clay – I'm almost there!”
“Keep giving it to me tight!” he begged as he thrust harder, deeper and faster as he tapped his reserve strength.
“Oh god yes...don't stop... “
“Give it to me!”
“Do it, Clay...fuck me, yes...”
“I'll fuck you fantastic, honey!”
“Clay, yes...oh, God, I'm coming!”
“Yes, honey – yes, I'm coming, too! God, yes!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The heavy stream turned loud again as he finally set her back down.
“Holy shit, that was amazing,” he exhaled as he leaned his head against the wall. She rested her head and arms against his soaked torso to support her shaky legs. He found her waist, but couldn't hide his own shakiness – they both knew they were done for and giggled at the fervor of it all, then listened to the shower for several minutes as they regained their strength.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She looked toward the controls and spied the shower rack full of what looked like travel-sized European toiletries.
“God, how I wish I had some baby oil with me right now,” she heard Clay say. “But I guess body wash will have to do,” he smiled.
She read the bottles – they were all the same fragrance – Terra Nova Oceana. She picked up the body wash and read the back:
A spirited breath of sea air, blended with exotic amber and vanilla spice, fresh green leaves and fragrant jasmine. Intoxicates the senses and energizes and soul.
She opened the bottle and took a whiff – immediately she knew this was the fragrance already on Clay's body.
“So you like this stuff? You're afraid of water and you use an ocean scent?”
“Well, I can't drink coffee either, but that doesn't mean I don't like the smell of it.”
“Point taken.” She glanced at the other small bottles: shampoo...conditioner... Her eyes widened at one and she wondered if she should say something – but the vixen within made her tell him.
“This one...is body lotion.”
That pearlescent lecherous grin returned to his face as he took the bottle from her hand. “That will work just fine...in a little while.” He set the bottle back on the rack and reached for the body wash, squeezed a small palmful into his hand, then pointed it toward her. She opened her hand and let him drizzle a generous amount of the aromatic soap into hers.
“For now...we both need a very...thorough...cleansing.”
The temperature control was moved closer to hot and more steam arose from the shower.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Clay exhaled a long, highly-sated sigh as he closed the lavatory door. He felt squeaky-clean – his damp, dark auburn hair was neatly combed back and the rumpled clothes once again clung to his sleek body. At once, dehydration settled upon him – he walked forward through the main cabin to a small refrigerator and pulled out a nicely-chilled water bottle. In one long, thirsty swig, he downed half the liter-bottle then expelled another satisfied groan. He went into the refrigerator once more then walked aft – he set a second bottle in the cupholder of her chair just before he collapsed onto the banquette. He flinched as his revery was momentarily disrupted by the sound of the seatbelt light turning on, but he quickly recovered. He lay almost too still on the banquette.
Her very sensitive legs felt the plane begin its decent as she exited the lavatory. She noticed the seat belt sign was back on and Clay was apparently napping on the banquette.
“You gonna bother with a seatbelt?” He barely nodded a no.
She noticed the water bottle as she sat in her chair. Once she had her seatbelt on, she twisted off the cap.
“Thanks for the water.” He nodded yes as to say “you're welcome” while she took a few refreshing swallows. Her head leaned back, then she leaned the chair back and closed her eyes. They sat in silence and stillness – both completely spent.
After fifteen or twenty minutes, they both felt the plane touch down. She still rested in her chair as he arose from the banquette. He took the rings out of his pocket and came up behind her chair. Each of those long, deft hands landed on the armrests, which startled her awake. She startled again when she realized he was leaned very close to her right ear.
“God, that was so fantastic – that was more than worth all the planning and anticipation. It's too damn bad I have a 'one time only' rule – If I didn't have an appointment with my bed, I sure as hell wouldn't mind telling the captain to take it once more around the block – and take that whole Double O-Ticket ride all over again.”
His right hand offered the rings back. “The captain turned the sign back on.” He snapped his hand shut just as she reached for them. His mouth moved to her left ear.
“You're gonna remember this – I know I will – every sound, smell and touch – and you're gonna want to relive it over and over again – and you're gonna take it all out on him. He's one lucky guy.” He opened his hand once more and let her take the rings. She heard him again in her right ear.
“By the way – you did a great job managing the tour, too. Thanks for all the hard work.”
They both saw the captain open the door and at once the shrill sound of the plane filled the cabin. Without another word between them, she watched him remove his leather jacket from the closet and unceremoniously walk off the plane.
He collapsed into the waiting limousine that would take him home. Staring at the plane as the car pulled away, a contented smirk came across his face.
“I had her.”
She sat in the chair a moment more and giggled to herself.
“I got to fuck pop royalty.”
--------------------------
~Posted 7.19.2004~
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