Elizabeth Coldwell
The view from my hotel balcony was spectacular. A long, unspoilt sweep of white sand dotted with palm trees, the sun already beginning to sink down into a tranquil sea. But I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy any of it.
In other circumstances, I’d have been looking forward to our brief layover in paradise, before making the return journey back to wintry Heathrow. But this was the first trip where Greg and I had been part of the same flight crew since we’d broken up. We’d been perfectly civil to each other in the crew room, and he’d been securely locked in the cockpit for the seven-hour flight, so I had no chance of bumping into him unexpectedly as I moved around the cabin. But every time his voice came over the intercom, smooth and assured, apprising the passengers of our progress, my stomach gave an unhappy little lurch. I’d told myself I was over Greg, but hearing him stirred up all the feelings I’d tried so hard to bury.
From below me came the sounds of splashing and excited laughter. Jackie and Leah, most likely. They’d told me the first thing they were going to do once they hit the hotel was change into their bikinis and head for the pool. I was welcome to join them – if not there, then later in the cocktail lounge for a night of drinking, flirting and whatever came after. Leah had her eye on the newest crew member, Davey, a twinkly-eyed Scotsman who’d been working at Prestwick until a couple of weeks ago. And what she wanted, she usually got without too much effort.
I had other plans, ones that ensured I wouldn’t end up downing one cocktail too many and making a fool of myself over Greg. Tonight, I was flying solo. I intended to take a long bath, order a seafood salad and a big glass of Chablis from room service, then take the phone off the hook and treat myself to a session with my favorite vibrator, packed specially for the occasion. The best way to get over an old boyfriend was to get under a new one, and if mine just so happened to be battery-operated, who cared?
Except as I opened my overnight bag to get out the toiletries I needed, it became obvious that my plan had been derailed. Instead of my washbag, nightdress and change of clothes, I was looking at T-shirts, shorts and sandals, all undeniably masculine in style. Somehow, I’d picked up the wrong item from the baggage carousel – or, more accurately, some unknown man had walked off with mine, seeing as how the only things still circulating when I’d reached baggage reclaim had been those belonging to the crew.
The airline website advised travelers to tuck their contact details somewhere into their luggage, just in case it went astray. Fortunately, this man had followed that advice. In the same inside pocket where I placed my own information, I found a plain postcard bearing his name – Richard McLean – and an address in a rather nice part of south-west London. Now all I had to do was discover where he was staying. He might very well be in a room not far from mine – this was the nicest hotel on the island, after all – but equally he could have chosen to rent one of the beachside villas further down the coast, in which case it could take me a while to track him down.
A knock on the door interrupted my musings. Probably one of the girls, making another attempt to get me to join them in the bar. I grabbed the complimentary bathrobe from the closet, shrugging it on before preparing to tell my friends they were wasting their time.
Instead of Leah, or Jackie, a stranger stood on the threshold. I gained a brief impression of impressive height and breadth, dark hair falling untidily into azure eyes, a wide smile that caused dimples to crease his cheeks. All very appealing, but my immediate attention was focused on the familiar-looking black leather bag in his grasp. A bag identical to the one resting on my bed.
“Melanie Bright?” When I nodded, he said, “I guess you know why I’m here.” His expression was rueful as he glanced down at the bag. My bag. “I’m sorry. It was one of the first to appear on the carousel and I just grabbed it. It never occurred to me someone else on the flight might have the same bag until I came to open it.”
“Well, thank you very much for bringing it back.” Was it just the thought of appearing rude that compelled me to invite him into the room to exchange bags, despite my resolve to be on my own tonight, or did it have more to do with the way my heart was suddenly beating faster, heat blooming low in my belly? Whatever the reason, Richard accepted, stepping inside and looking around.
“Very nice. One of the perks of the job, I assume?”
Of course he knew what I did for a living. My contact details were care of the airline, after all. “Makes up for the lousy pay. And some of the passengers we have to deal with.” Not that I’d dealt with him. I hadn’t seen him at all during the flight. He must have been traveling first class.
“Oh, so that explains the stress reliever you carry with you.”
Stress reliever? My face flushed as I realized what he must have discovered among my possessions. I was sure I wasn’t the only woman who traveled with a mechanical friend from time to time, but I couldn’t help wondering how Richard had reacted when he’d found it. “I . . . er . . . that is . . . Sometimes I just need to . . .”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” Richard grinned wickedly. “Although a demonstration might be nice.”
He couldn’t be serious. We didn’t even know each other, yet he was inviting me to play with my vibrator for his viewing pleasure. It was the most outrageous suggestion I’d ever heard, and that should have been the moment when I politely pushed his own bag into his hand and wished him a pleasant holiday. Instead, I made sure the door was locked, then invited him to make himself comfortable in the big wicker chair by the bed.
He needed no encouragement, settling down with an expectant air. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, I unzipped my bag and took out the toy. Eight inches of soft flesh-colored silicone, realistic down to the veins running along its length. I’d bought it on a stopover in San Francisco a couple of years back, and it never failed to take me to the heights of orgasm, just as Richard was clearly hoping it would now.
“How do you want me?” I asked.
“You could lose the robe, for a start,” he replied.
Doing as he asked, I felt the strange, giddy rush that came from baring myself completely to a fully clothed man. As the towelling robe dropped to the carpet, Richard’s gaze roamed over my curves, lingering on my heavy, red-nippled breasts and the patch of hair on my mound, trimmed almost to nothing so as not to peek out from the skimpy thongs I favored.
Opening a travel-sized sachet of lube, I smeared the sticky liquid down over the vibrator’s length. Slowly stroking the toy, I kept my eyes locked on Richard’s. The implication was obvious. This was the same treatment I’d give to his cock if I had it, hot and aroused, in my hands.
My calculated teasing had an immediate effect on him. A visible bulge pressed at the fly of his faded jeans, seeking to be free. His willpower was strong. He didn’t unzip himself, much as he must have wanted to. Instead, he leaned forward in the chair, watching as I played the fake cock over the insides of my spread thighs, slowing moving it up to their apex.
Any embarrassment I’d felt at displaying myself so lewdly to this stranger melted away as the vibrator worked its magic. The noise from the pool had faded, and the soft hum of the room’s air conditioning melded with that of the toy, steady and true. For the first time since I’d stepped on board the plane back in England, I’d stopped thinking about my ex. It didn’t matter what kind of fun my fellow crew members were having without me, or who Greg might be hooking up with tonight. At last, I was allowing myself a naughty little adventure of my own.
When I moved the vibrator over my slick pussy lips, pressing it against my clit, the stimulation was too much. I didn’t want to come just yet, not before I’d given Richard a show to remember, so I pulled back. Now, the bulbous head of the toy rested lightly against my entrance. One little shove and it would glide inside me, its passage eased by a mixture of lube and the juices flowing freely from my excited cunt.
Looking over at Richard, it seemed he’d lost the battle to remain in control of the situation. His cock was out and he was tugging the soft, wrinkled foreskin back and forth over its head. “That’s it,” he murmured, “fuck yourself with that big thing.”
I groaned at his words. Greg had never enjoyed talking dirty to me, but being told what to do always seemed to ratchet my excitement up another notch. “Do you like this?” I asked, pushing another couple of inches of the thick silicone cock up inside me and feeling my muscles clench possessively around it in response.
“I love it. You look so hot with that dick sliding in and out of your little pussy. It must be really stretching you.”
“It is,” I admitted, “but I’d rather your cock was there in its place.”
Richard seemed to have been waiting for the invitation. He rose from the chair and quickly shucked his jeans and underwear. Wondering how best to suggest he used protection, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of him fishing a condom from his wallet, one step ahead of me. In moments, his beautiful penis was sheathed in matt black latex. About to climb onto the bed, he paused, distracted by something I couldn’t see.
“Wow, the sunset is amazing. Come and look.”
Almost before I knew what was happening, he’d hauled me to my feet and guided me out onto the balcony.
“Richard, I’m naked. What if someone sees me?”
“They’ll just think what a lucky bastard I am.” He pulled me to him, so we could admire the sight of the tropical sky, orange and gold fading slowly to black as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Above the waist, I felt the soft cotton of Richard’s T-shirt; below it, bare skin and the hot length of his condom-clad cock pressing against my ass cheek.
“Beautiful,” he said, leaving me to wonder whether he was talking about me or the sunset. I felt his hand between my legs, parting my wet, swollen lips, then his cockhead pushed up where the vibrator had so recently been. Good as the toy had felt, there was nothing to compare with the feel of living, pulsing flesh filling me up. Richard’s dimensions were nearly as substantial as my silicone joystick, and when he gave another shove, lodging himself fully home, I couldn’t prevent a deliciously agonized cry escaping my lips. Somewhere in the trees, a wild bird seemed to mimic my voice, as the night creatures came out to hunt and prowl.
I grasped at the balcony rail as Richard thrust into me with hard, unwavering strokes. For all my concern, part of me wished someone would look up from the pool area and see me, hair a wild tangle around my face, breasts bouncing with every stroke. Greg perhaps, watching and wondering who this woman was, so wild and uninhibited, so unbelievably full of cock, receiving the fucking of her life.
Richard gripped my tits, pushing them together and reveling in their fleshy softness. I bucked my ass back at him, begging him to go harder, deeper, wanting his cock to touch places Greg had never quite been able to reach. In my mind, I pictured Greg being joined by a crowd, flight crew and hotel guests alike, all enjoying the wanton display my lover and I were putting on for them. They sipped their drinks, offered cheering encouragement, torn between wonder and envy.
I’d almost forgotten I was still holding the vibrator in my other hand. Richard was pushing me towards orgasm, and now I was ready for the extra help the toy could offer. Reaching backward between my parted thighs, I guided the toy to the place where our bodies were joined, pressing it against me so it touched not only my clit, jutting out as if demanding attention, but Richard’s balls, too. It seemed to do the trick for both of us. Richard called out my name, clutching me hard to him as he stiffened and came. In a heartbeat, I was following him, sweet waves of pleasure rolling through my belly, leaving me limp and breathless in their wake.
The vibrator fell from my fingers and rolled across the tiled balcony floor. The metallic buzzing noise it made as it came to rest against the wrought-iron railing seemed to bring both Richard and me to our senses.
“That was incredible,” he sighed, pulling me round to face him so we could share a long, deep kiss. “The perfect way to start a holiday.”
“It might be for you,” I retorted, “but this time tomorrow I’ll be on my way back to England.” Fun as it had been, I knew this was destined to be nothing but a gorgeous one-off, a memory to warm me on cold nights when this tropical island seemed so very far away. “For all I know, I’m never going to see you again.”
“Oh, you’ll see me all right,” Richard replied. “You see, this holiday is to celebrate the promotion I’ve just been given, and there’s going to be a lot of travel involved in my new role. Travel on your airline. And now we’ve met, I have the feeling I’m really going to enjoy my frequent flyer privileges . . .”