“Another 7-and-7, Mr. I dropped to my knees in front of him, with my ass in the aisle. He was moaning now, loud as Emil picked up steam behind me. And I felt the air on my back as they peeled down. More than anything. Almost affection. Eight inches and growing, I brought my hands up to his thighs, but he flinched. Almost affection. Slow. The surprisingly delicate touch of his fingers climbing up the back of my left thigh. You’re done.”
“You know what Greta? I let my tongue drag over him and swirled my tongue around the tip. And, for what must have been the sixth time on the flight, I spasmed into ecstasy. I marched back to the sea of handsome Black men at the front, both hands full of beers from the drink cart and Greta fading away behind me, more confused than anything else. “Who wants a beer?”
I stood close to Devonte, still grinning ear to ear. Glanced down at me and nodded, and stepped aside. Did that really just happen? No! Glanced down at me and nodded, and stepped aside. “Damn she likes it.”
“She can suck a dick. Content. My dress over my head.
