His Mafia Queen

A Spanking in the Air

"Beautiful."

I unhook my bra and lean into his mouth. While he sucks at my nipple, his hands go between my legs, tracing the seam of my pussy over my panties.

"Lie down," he commands.

I do. He quickly strips down, staring at me the entire time. Then he continues his slow tease, nestling in between my legs and touching me over my panties.

The sound of the plane's engines humming provides a seductive backdrop as he pulls the crotch of my panties aside. His tongue finds me, flicking and torturing my clit with a tantalizing rhythm. While he does this with his mouth, he plunges two fingers into me, causing me to gasp.

Maybe it's the altitude. Or it's the forbidden. But I climax quickly, pulsing and grinding against his mouth.

Grinning, he rises while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I fucking love when you come in my mouth.

Goosebumps rise along my skin as cool air brushes against my exposed thighs, creating a delicious contrast against the scorching heat engulfing me inside.

With a low growl of desire, Gabriel trails his lips up my stomach and breasts, leaving a trail of searing kisses along the way. His teeth graze against the sensitive flesh just below my earlobe, sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to the core of my being.

"Turn over," he rasps.

I do, rolling over onto my stomach.

"Ass in the air," he commands. "All fours."

I lift myself and he grasps my hair roughly, bringing my head up so I can see us in the mirrors that surround us.

"Watch us. Watch me fuck you. Watch me spank you."

With that, he smacks my ass, hard. I cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Another?" I love that he always wants my consent on things like this.

"Yes, please. Please!"

He hits my other ass cheek. It stings pleasurably while his hand caresses the skin. "There's nothing more beautiful than my handprint on your ass. Fuck."

He spreads my ass cheeks and I watch him in the mirror stare at me with a focused, intense hunger.

He spanks me again. "Touch your clit."

I do, tentatively, gently. I'm still so stimulated from the orgasm. He strikes me again and the sensation of pleasure and pain reverberates through me.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes," I whimper.

"Good."

I watch as he guides his cock inside me, filling me, completing me. I moan aloud, not caring if the flight attendant, pilot, or the clouds themselves hear. I'm now shaking with need — the need to have another orgasm.

Gabriel's head tips back. He's buried in me, reveling in the sensation.

Then he smacks me again. I work my clit. "Harder," I whisper.

"Harder? Spanking, or fucking?"

"Both."

He's fucking me hard, jackhammering into me. His thumb finds its way into my forbidden hole, and I'm filled and fucked like never before. This is like a porn, but I'm loving every filthy second.

As we're going at it, the plane hits a patch of turbulence. Then another. Gabriel doesn't break his stride, and I don't stop touching myself.

The crackle of the loudspeaker startles us, but we don't stop.

"Aaaah, Gabriel and Riley, we've hit a rough patch here over Virginia. I'd like you and the flight attendant to take your seats now."

"Fuck that, I'm busy," Gabriel growls.

I half-laugh, half panic. Then when he hits my ass, I come. I practically black out, forget about all the turbulence — both real and in my life — and fall over a blissful orgasmic cliff.

Gabriel does, too. He pulls out and spurts all over my ass. I can feel the hot liquid searing my skin, marking me.

The plane shudders and jerks precariously. I'm gasping for air and collapse onto the bed, on my stomach. Gabriel lies next to me, holding his chest.

"Fuuuck," he whispers.

I grunt. My butt is throbbing and I expect it's scarlet (and covered with his cum). "Oh god, my ass. It's going to hurt for days."

"Good." Gabriel leans over and kisses me. "When it hurts, you'll think of me."

"Perv," I tease.

But he knows I secretly love it.

"There's a bathroom over there. Why don't you clean up first?" he says.

"Such a gentleman," I whisper, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Carefully, as the plane bounces up and down, I make my way to the bathroom and shut the door. The vanity lights illuminate.

"What the hell?" I say aloud.

"Everything okay, Riley?" Gabriel's concerned voice hits me.

I open the door and stick my head out. He's still sprawled on the bed, his beautiful muscular body like a painting on the black satin sheets.

"I'm fine, just shocked at the décor. Carry on." I shut the door and take it all in.

The walls are a wild riot of neon leopard print, clashing with gold fixtures that glint under the flashy disco ball-style lights. The floor is a mosaic of a medusa.

"Is this Versace?" I yell.

"Oh, maybe. I think it might be," Gabriel calls back. "It's from that era."

The sink fixtures are gold, and I take a fluffy black washcloth from a stack and give myself a quick sink bath. The air is scented with an overpowering mix of musk and tropical fruit, completing the sensory overload. It's an homage to excess, a bathroom that screams '80s opulence louder than a Miami nightclub.

That's when I look into the mirror and see myself. My hair is big and wild, my mascara and eye makeup streaked, my lipstick faded, my cheeks a healthy pink. I look like I've been well and thoroughly fucked.

After I clean up, I return to the bedroom, where I find Gabriel sipping from one of the champagne glasses. "You know, I like your de-stressing tactic on this jet. I think we need to do this every time we fly."

Gabriel rises, his dick swinging between his legs. His satisfied, sexy grin tells me he agrees. He hands me the glass as he goes into the bathroom and I down the rest of the liquid.