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James Joyceson thrummed his foot repetitively on the lush red carpet of the private plane and checked his watched again. She was late, and nothing bothered him more than people not keeping to schedule.
If she wasn’t here in the next ten minutes, they were going to miss their spot and the flight would be delayed. He had several business meetings in Milan he needed to attend. He planned to buy out a strip of floundering smaller hotels and turn them into a five star boutique hotel. He needed to get in at the right time to make sure the owners realized he was their only option, other than going bankrupt. Being late didn’t put him in the right light.
He didn’t care she was just a temp and had only been called a few hours earlier, informing her she was needed for a job that would take her away for a week. It was no concern of his if she couldn’t decide what to pack or if she had been caught at short notice. He needed a PA and his normal one, Margaret, had called in sick. Just what he needed. She caught a stomach bug and didn’t dare to fly in case she got him sick as well.
Movement caught his attention as a breathless face with high flushes in her cheeks appeared in the doorway of the small plane. Her long dark hair was caught up in a chignon, leaving her face fresh and youthful.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I came as fast as I could.” Then she caught sight of James and the color in her cheeks increased. She looked away, flustered. “I only got the call a couple of hours ago, and I couldn’t find my passport. I don’t normally need it for jobs.”
James understood her reaction at seeing him. He had this affect on most women. Striking-looking, he had salt and pepper hair that gave him a more distinguished look than his thirty-six years should have allowed. His dark eyes and full mouth could have belonged on an actor or model, and he consciously kept himself fit, not wanting to lose his physique to what he thought of a ‘middle-aged spread’.
“Don’t worry,” he said, his annoyance at her tardiness deflating at the sight of her.
As she climbed on board, he saw she was wearing a skirt-suit, and that particular skirt was short. Very short.
She caught him looking and pulled at its hem self-consciously. “My normal suits were at the dry cleaners,” she said by way of an explanation.
“No need to apologize.”
He wasn’t going to complain. The incredibly long legs the skirt exposed were slim but shapely, and adding to their length was a pair of three inch heel fuck-me shoes.
James felt his cock quiver inside his suit pants and he purposefully adjusted the folder he was reading to cover it.
Down boy.
But she sat down opposite him, crossing those incredible long legs, pointing those sexy shoes towards him, and his dick jumped.
The air hostess approached them. “You need to buckle up,” the hostess said, shooting him a flirtatious smile. “We’re going to be taking off soon.”
He smiled back, but it was nothing more than courteous. The sensible flats the hostess was wearing did nothing for him, especially when he had the shiny black leather heels of his new PA cocked provocatively in his direction.
“Can I get you some drinks before we take off?” the hostess asked.
“Sure.” He raised his eyebrows at the woman opposite him. “Will champagne do?”
“Oh, yes. I mean, I don’t normally drink at lunch time, but if you’re having some...”
“Champagne it is then.”
The hostess ducked off. “Right away, Mr Joyceson.”
James leant forward, his hands clasped together. “You still haven’t told me your name.”
She smiled, her full mouth generous, and held out a hand to him. “Helena Forester.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Helena.”
“Likewise.”
Their eyes locked for a moment and he knew instantly that she was as attracted to him, as he was to her. The hostess arrived back with the champagne and they both sat back in their seats, the moment broken.
He couldn’t take his eyes off those shoes. It was a thing he had had for years, an immediate attraction to any woman wearing a pair of sexy heels. There was something about the shape of a woman’s foot and the smell of leather that just got things going for him.
She uncrossed and then crossed her legs again, giving him a quick flash of black lace between her thighs. His fingers gripped tightly on his folder, his knuckles showing white. He wasn’t going to last a whole flight if she was going to keep doing that to him.
She caught where his gaze landed and her cheeks flushed again.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, clearly mortified.
He gave a brief shake of his head. “Don’t be.”
Her mouth twitched in a smile and she picked up her glass of champagne, taking a nervous gulp. The plane started to move, taxiing across the runway until it stopped for a moment. Then, its engines roared back to life and the small aircraft thundered up the runway and lifted up into the sky.
She gripped the edges of her seat. It was her turn for her knuckles to turn white.
“Nervous flier?” he said.
She nodded. “Especially on small planes. There’s just something about them that doesn’t seem possible they should stay in the air.”
He leant forward “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She took another gulp of champagne, the alcohol calming her nerves. The plane leveled out and the seatbelt sign went off with a ping.
“So, what is it you need me to do?” she asked.
He opened his folder and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “First of all you can familiarize yourself with my time table. I’m going to need you to make sure I keep time, so I can make each appointment.”
He half-stood to pass her the papers, just as she leant across to take them. Their hands met in the middle and the paperwork slipped from their grasp, sliding to the floor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, falling to her knees, gathering the spread of documents towards her. Her round ass was shaped perfectly beneath the tiny skirt. Her naked white thighs disappeared beneath its hem, hinting at the first swell of her creamy white bottom. The heels of her shiny black stilettos were only inches from her ass.
James got down in front of her, helping her pick up the paperwork. Though he knew his erection was huge and obvious beneath the expensive material of his suit pants, he couldn’t help her seeing it. She looked up, her gaze travelling across the bulge and up to his face. Her nipples poked hard through the thin white of her shirt. They locked eyes.
Suddenly, they were on each other, kissing frantically. Their mouths were hard against each other, tongues seeking and exploring. He pulled at her shirt, his hand finding the heavy swell of her breast beneath the lace of her bra, the nub of her nipple hard against his palm. Frantically, he pulled the lace away, exposing her flesh. His fingers found her nipple and squeezed gently. He lowered his head, his mouth encircling her hardened nub, sucking, pulling her nipple into his mouth. Her fingers were in his hair and she moaned above him.
Her other hand reached down, finding the hard length of his cock beneath his suit pants. He gasped against her breast as her strong fingers rubbed him through the material. He took her lead, his own fingers slipping up her smooth thigh, pushing the short skirt up around her waist, his fingers finding the black lace of her panties. She parted her legs for him. With two fingers, he rubbed the damp lace still covering her pussy, feeling for her sensitive clit. She gave a little sharp intake of breath when he hit it.
James glanced down to those shoes and the shiny black leather. He lifted his head from her nipple, wrapping his arms around her back, gently lowering her to the floor.
“I don’t normally do this,” she gasped.
“Neither do I,” he said, grinning wickedly. “But you couldn’t turn up wearing that skirt and those shoes and not expect me to try something.”
“Someone might come in.”
“Na, the staff could smell the sexual tension the minute you walked in.”
She lay back on the thick carpet; the short skirt rucked up around her waist. Her exposed breasts jutted up towards him, her puckered nipples large and dark in relation to the size of her breasts.
He knelt between her thighs. His fingers trailed down the length of her extraordinarily long legs, and he pulled her foot, and that shoe, up towards him.
With his free hand he unzipped himself, and his cock, huge and throbbing, sprang out of his pants. Helena’s lips parted as she took in his length, her tongue slipping out, wetting her lips. While he would have loved to push his cock into that beautiful mouth, feel her tongue teasing its tip, he didn’t have that in mind.
He tugged the rest of his pants down and pulled her foot, still encased in its sexy shoe, against him. The cool sole of her shoe pressed flat against his balls, the heel pushed with just the right amount of pressure against the tight hole of his ass. His hand slipped up and down the hard length of his cock, moving back and forth.
She was sprawled in front of him, her thighs spread. The lace of her panties was pulled to one side and her hand worked the sensitive nub of her clit. One hand separated her lips, giving him the perfect view of her most intimate opening, while her other hand’s fingers rubbed her clit in an ever increasing speed. She was breathing hard, her cheeks and chest flushed. Her eyes focused on his cock as he masturbated.
Helena was sexy as hell, but it was her other foot James focused on; the sharp spike of the heel, the sensuous curve of the instep.
His head bulged red, a drop of pre-cum glistening on its tip. Her body stiffened and bucked, her head thrown back, and she cried out loud as she came. He was only moments behind, cum spraying down over her thighs.
They panted together, allowing the last waves of their orgasms to wash over them. Helena pushed herself up on her elbows, and they stared at each other, surprised and amazed at what had just happened.
“You’ve ruined my only clean suit,” she teased.
“Don’t worry; I can buy you plenty more in Milan.”
“Are you planning to wreck those as well?”
“Only if you let me.”
He had a very strong feeling he wasn’t going to get much work done that week, and for once, he didn’t care.