"It was exactly what you wanted. Why are you still crying about it?"
The stewardess comes over and hands me a flute of champagne. I take it and nod my thanks to her, before downing it in one gulp.
That is the good stuff. I burp.
Without looking, I hand the glass away. Finally, I turn to Henrik. He's so hot in his fitted gingham button up shirt and faded blue jeans. His dark brown hair tousled in his usual sexy way. I should be happy and turned on, going on my honeymoon with my husband, but I'm melancholy and turned on. I can't help but be horny around him.
"I just miss it so much." Right after I say it, the waterworks start again.
He puts his arms around me and kisses my head. "Shhh. It will be okay. There will always be cake Morgana. Always."
I look up at him, my eyes still watery. "Promise?"
He nods his head and we stay cuddled up for a few minutes before the stewardess interrupts us, "Excuse me sir, madam, but the pilot has just informed me that you are free to move about the cabin. I will be in the back of the plane getting your lunch ready. It should be about fifteen minutes." The unusually tall brunette gives us a warm smile before straightening her posture and walking to the back of the plane.
I can’t help but smile as I watch the bulge in Henrik’s pants grow; I can see he is ready to put his plan into action. He informed me last night that Jacob Mimir had rented a private jet to take us to Italy for our honeymoon as a wedding gift. Henrik immediately told me about his 'plan' while we were flying over the Atlantic. Since neither of us are members of the mile high club, he thought it would be perfect to do it on our honeymoon.
"You ready?" he whispers in my ear as I sit up. He searches the beige cabin to see if anyone is watching us. Of course no one is looking, because it is only us right now.
"Come on Husband, let's join the club." I unbuckle my seat belt and stand.
He does the same but puts his finger to his lips. "Shhh. I don't want people to hear."
I roll my eyes and snort. He keeps look out as we walk up the dark blue carpeted aisle. When he opens the bathroom door, Henrik quickly ushers me inside.
Wow, this is tiny. I think the bathroom in coach on a commercial airline is bigger than this. Henrik squeezes inside. We are having trouble breathing until we maneuver ourselves so I am standing in front of the toilet and he is in front of the sink.
"How are we going to make this happen?" I ask while I gaze around the tight space.
Henrik furrows his brow and runs his fingers through his hair.
"I read up on all of this, even small spaces. Basically, I will have to sit on the toilet while you sit on me." He points to the tiny metal toilet bowl next to me.
I frown as I notice there is no lid on the seat.
"Oh gross. Are you sure you want to do this? It's your butt on that seat, not mine."
I look back at him and he already has his jeans and briefs pulled down to his ankles, as he is stroking himself. Okay then, I guess this is a go.
I wore a dark green tennis skirt for the flight due to our plan, so I remove my pink lace panties and am ready for action. I place my undies on the tiny counter before I squeeze by Henrik so he can sit on the toilet. None of this is turning me on, so I have to lick my fingers and rub myself before I settle back on him.
He moans as he fills me. Henrik grabs my hips to help me move up and down on his cock. He moves one of his hands under my tan polo shirt as he massages my breast. I'm starting to get into this as he pinches my nipple.
"Oh Sweetcakes, you feel so fucking good," he groans into my ear.
The more he moves into me, pinches me, and moans in pleasure, the wetter I become. This isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I think we might have to try this again on the way home. I'm smiling at the thought as I hear the toilet flush.
"Did you hit something?" I turn my head back to see his face.
"No."
Flush. A few thrusts. Flush.
"Fuck, it's one of those automatic flush toilets. There is cool air hitting my balls every time it does that." I can’t help but chuckle at our predicament.
"Don't laugh Morgana or we are going to be here a long time. Now focus. I have dreamed about this since I was a teenager."
He digs his fingers into my hips, abandoning my boobs. Pushing me up and down, faster and faster, as random flushes go off.
There is a knock at the door.
"Yes?" I squeak as we stop mid thrust.
"Madam, I am about to serve lunch. I can't seem to locate your husband."
I panic. "Oh, he said he was going to take a stroll."
Henrik groans behind me.
"Where? There is nowhere to go here. I'll look for him in the back. I need to know if you wish to have fish or chicken."
"Both of us, chicken."
"All right."
I hear her walk away and breath a heavy sigh.
"Taking a stroll? This isn't a cruise ship!" Henrik whisper yells at me, as he begins pushing me up and down on him again.