Turbulence in Silk Stockings novel · Chapter 2 of 12

Chapter 2: Cabin Inspection

"Yes, honey, I hear you."

Isaura had the phone pressed to her ear, her voice the sweetest in the world.

Her hand kept moving up and down my cock beneath the blanket.

"Do I miss home?" She looked at me, her green eyes full of mischief. "So much. It’s so lonely here."

I covered my mouth with my forearm.

Every time her thumb brushed the head, my whole body arched against the mattress.

On the other end of the line, my uncle was telling her something about bad weather in Monterrey and breakfast with the people at the base.

She said, "Uh-huh," and "How awful," and "Take good care of yourself."

She let go of me for a second.

She brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked on them slowly, never taking her eyes off me.

Then she took hold of me again.

Now her hand was wet and slippery, so good I bit down on my arm to keep from moaning.

"I love you, too," she said.

Then she hung up.

She set the phone on the nightstand with a soft tap.

Then she burst out laughing silently, her forehead resting on my shoulder.

"Poor thing," she whispered. "You almost passed out."

"You’re a witch."

"And you were about to come in my hand like a teenager."

"I’m twenty-two."

"Exactly."

She yanked the blanket off me.

I was left naked and hard beneath the light of the nightstand lamp, my chest rising and falling, while she looked me up and down without hiding a thing.

"You look so good," she said. "No wonder you were walking down the hall in that tiny towel."

"You said I shouldn’t talk."

"I didn’t mean this." She ran a fingernail down my thigh. "Though this is okay."

She got off the bed.

She stood in front of me in her garter belt, stockings, and black lace, and reached behind her back.

Her bra fell to the floor.

My heart stopped.

Her breasts were big and heavy, her nipples dark and hard, and a white bikini line ran up her skin to her ribs.

"Look at me," she ordered. "I want you to see all of me."

I looked.

She lowered her fingers to the edge of her panties.

She slid them slowly down over her hips, until all she had on was her garter belt and stockings.

Her pussy was soft and dark, only half-shaved, her lips glistening with moisture.

"Isaura," I said, my throat dry.

"That’s it. I like that."

She climbed back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs.

She leaned down.

I felt her hot breath on my cock, and then her tongue.

One long, slow lick, from the base to the tip.

I growled.

She smiled against my skin.

"Hold still."

She closed her lips around me and took me all the way in.

She was hot, tight, and slippery.

She went deep, then came up slowly, sucking hard, her tongue pressed underneath.

Every time she reached the tip, she flicked it with her tongue, making me see white.

I buried my hands in her hair.

She slapped them away.

"Hands on the bed."

I obeyed.

"Very good." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You’re a good boy."

She went back to sucking me.

She slipped one hand between my legs and stroked my balls while she swallowed me down to her throat, and I gripped the sheets until my fingers hurt.

"Isaura, I’m gonna come."

She stopped.

She looked up at me, her lips swollen and glistening.

"Not yet."

"Please."

"Not even please." She crawled up my body until she was on top of me. "First, I want you to eat me out."

She sat on my face.

I couldn’t breathe.

Her pussy was right above my mouth, warm and fragrant, a shiny drop running down her thigh.

"Come on, Lucho."

I licked her.

It was a clumsy, nervous lick, from top to bottom.

"Slower," she said, her voice husky. "With the tip. Up there."

I tried where she told me.

She tasted salty and sweet, better than anything.

When my tongue found her clit, she let out a long moan and grabbed the headboard.

"There. Right there. Just like that."

I obeyed.

I sucked, licked, and circled my tongue in small movements while she rubbed herself against my face, her thighs trembling.

"You’re so good at this," she panted. "So good, honey, so good."

She spread her lips with two fingers so my tongue could reach deeper.

I pushed it inside her.

She cried out, bit her fist, and came in my mouth with a long shudder, soaking my chin.

I stayed there until she stopped moving.

She climbed off me on shaky legs, breathing like she’d just run a race.

"God, Lucho."

"Was that good?"

"Shut up." She laughed breathlessly. "You’re going to make me cry."

She kissed me.

It was a deep kiss, tasting of her and me.

I took her by the hips and laid her on her back.

She let me.

I settled between her thighs, her silk stockings brushing my ribs, and looked into her eyes.

"Now?"

"Now."

I placed the tip at her entrance.

She was so wet that I slid in effortlessly, all the way, in a single thrust.

She arched her back and let out a muffled cry.

So did I.

I felt her squeezing me inside, warm and so tight, pulsing around my cock.

"Stay still," she asked. "Just a second. Let me feel you."

I stayed still.

Her thighs were trembling.

She looked at me with tearful eyes.

"It’s been two years since anyone did this to me."

"Two years?"

"Don’t talk."

I moved.

At first, slow, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in.

She dug her nails into my back.

Then harder, our hips slamming together, the mattress squeaking, the bed legs knocking against the drywall.

"More," she moaned. "Harder, Lucho. Don't hold back."

I drove into her with everything I had.

Her tits bounced with every thrust.

I sucked on one of her nipples, and she cried out my name.

"That's it, baby. So good. Your cock feels so good."

She wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper.

The silk stockings rubbing against my skin felt delicious.

"Turn me over," she said suddenly.

I turned her over.

She got on all fours on the mattress, ass raised and face buried in the pillow, and looked over her shoulder at me.

It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen.

I grabbed her hips and plunged back in.

She moaned into the pillow.

The sound of our bodies filled the room, wet and fast.

"Give me more," she begged. "Give me everything."

I slapped her ass.

She laughed, half crying with pleasure.

"Again."

I slapped her again, and her pussy clenched around me.

I reached around and rubbed her clit with my fingers as I fucked her, and her whole body tensed.

"I'm gonna come," she panted. "Again. Lucho, again."

"Come for me."

"Don't stop."

I didn't stop.

She came with a cry muffled by the pillow, squeezing me so tight I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Isaura..."

"Inside," she begged. "I want to feel you."

I sank all the way in.

The orgasm shot up my spine like a whip crack, and I came inside her in hot spurts, once, then again, until I had nothing left.

We collapsed onto our sides.

We breathed.

Her sweaty back against my chest.

My hand spread over her belly.

The world had ceased to exist.

She turned in my arms.

"Tell me you're not gonna say anything."

"I'm a vault."

"Tell me we're gonna do this again."

I laughed.

"Whenever you want."

"Now."

We did it again.

Slower, with her on top, moving as if she were floating.

And again at dawn, half asleep, with the gray light coming in through the window and her leg draped over my hip.

Her phone alarm went off at five-thirty.

Isaura stretched like a cat and kissed my shoulder.

"I've got an eight o'clock flight."

"Stay."

"I can't."

She got up, naked, and I watched her walk into my bathroom without a hint of embarrassment.

When she came out, she was already dressed.

She wore her navy uniform, her white blouse buttoned perfectly, the red silk scarf knotted around her neck, and a straight skirt ending just above the knee.

Her nude silk stockings gleamed in the light.

Her hair was pulled back into an immaculate bun.

She looked like the most respectable flight attendant in Guadalajara.

And I, sprawled on the bed amid the tangled sheets, knew exactly how she moaned.

She bent down to give me a quick kiss.

"I'll be back Thursday night," she said against my mouth.

"And that's it?"

"And don't touch yourself."

"What?"

"It's all mine, Lucho." She gently bit my lip. "Learn to wait."

She left.

I heard the car's engine fade away.

On the nightstand was a note folded in four, written in her round handwriting.

I opened it with my hands still trembling.

"Last night, I didn't ask you to watch movies. I asked for you. See you Thursday, my boy."

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