“Yes, we were.” Mac narrows his eyes. “I’m not in the mood for a blow job,” he tells me and I feel my heart drop into my stomach. He’s never turned me down before. So I’m surprised again when Mac sets the laptop on the seat beside him. “But I am up for a distraction.”
“Oh?” I perk up. Maybe he’ll finally fuck me with his giant cock. Shit, I didn’t prep. How could I, when we shower together. “What kind of distraction?”
Mac’s gray eyes darken as the corner of his lip quirks up. He has something devious for me up his sleeve, I can tell. I’m too addicted to him to say no, whatever it is.
“I want to watch you get off for me.”
The breath I’m holding gusts out of me and I swallow hard. “Like we did before with me on your lap?”
Shaking his head, Mac’s smile widens. “No, pet. I want you to stay on your knees and play with your pretty cock while I make calls. I want you begging by the time I let you come.”
“But what about,” I turn to look at the curtain separating us from the flight attendant.
“You were willing to blow me here, but you won’t do this for me?” Mac clucks his tongue. “I thought you were my obedient pet, E?”
Whimpering at his words, I know he’s manipulating me. I find I don’t care.
“Yes, Sir.”
Moving to undo my pants, Mac has more instructions for me. “Slowly, pet. I don’t want you to come in five minutes.”
Slowing my hands, I untie the white chef pants and ease the fabric down slowly without removing my underwear. I tease along the hem, feeling vulnerable and on display. Despite his earlier words about having things to do, Mac’s attention is fully focused on me.
Pushing past the sense of helplessness I often feel in his presence, I put on a smile and take my shirt off before going back to touching my hardening dick through the thin white material of my Calvin Klein’s. I’m cut off, but I still care about quality underwear.
Mac eases back on the plush leather sofa, rubbing at his perfectly trimmed facial hair. As I ease the elastic over my tip to expose myself, Mac’s mouth opens slightly. I wonder what his tongue would feel like on my hole. Would he eat me out like a four course meal, rubbing his beard over my most sensitive areas?
Moaning, I bite my lip and take my cock out. Tucking the band under my balls, I give them a fondle. Mac licks his lips, and I wonder if he’s thinking similar to me about getting his mouth on me.
Tweaking a nipple with one hand, I decide to show Mac what he’s missing out on by not touching me. I ignore the voice telling me we can be walked in on, and decide it’s hotter that way. Moaning loudly as I push my foreskin back to show him my wet head, I don’t hold back with my noise.
“That’s right, pet,” Mac coos, not moving to touch the obvious bulge in his pants. “Show me how you like to be touched.”
Faltering, I consider his request. I like to be touched roughly by some, soft by others. I’ve always adapted to what the person I’m playing with wants. Maybe it’s the submissiveness beaten into me by my father, but I’m not sure what I want when the goal isn’t just to come as quickly as possible.
Mac sees my frustration and helps me. “Play with your slit and spread that cum around. Stroke yourself slowly. I want to watch you come, but not until I’ve had my fill.”
Taking his instructions as the commands they are, I do as he says. My pre-cum helps the tortuous glide until he tells me to tighten or loosen my hold at random. I’m a whimpering mess when he tells me to tug on my balls and play with my nipples at the same time. I lose track of anything but his words and how my hands feel on my body, along with his eyes that feel like a caress.
“Please, Sir. I want to come. I need to,” I pant, knowing if I stroke my dick again it’s over for me. “Please?”
“Lean back on one hand and stroke that cock in a tight grip. Imagine it’s me touching you. Pushing you over the edge. You can’t resist coming for your Sir, can you?”
Leaning back eases some of the tension from the sparks playing with my nipples sent straight to my balls, but I feel even more exposed. “Fuck, I’m so close, Sir!”
Anything I was going to say after is cut-off when the curtain opens and the flight attendant yelps in shock. Her hand covers her mouth and she turns around. “Your food will be out in a minute, but I can wait longer, if you need?”
“Five minutes should suffice. And some wet towels, thank you,” Mac tells her dismissively, and I find his eyes are still on me.
“Sir?” I ask, still on the edge despite the interruption.
“You have been so good for me, edging for an hour,” he tells me and I whine, feeling how raw my dick is to back up his statement. “Come now, pet.”
It takes a hard stroke and a twist of my wrist, but I do as he says, my cum hitting my chin before covering my chest and stomach as it goes on and on. I spasm, bending forward and not even thinking about if the cum might drip onto the carpeted floor.
Mac goes onto one knee in front of me, lifting my head and giving me a nod of approval, but not the kiss I strangely hope for in that moment.
“You did well, pet. Now I need you to cover up before she returns and sees what’s mine.”