A/N: I was planning on keeping this in the T category but... it's about the Mile High Club. How can I keep this PG friendly? So if you're under 18 or don't want to read something naughty, close the page otherwise, hope you enjoy it!
Whose idea was it to board a transatlantic flight after fighting? Hannibal shifted uneasily in his seat while light snores sifted from other passengers. Near five in the morning and they had only chopped off two hours from their eight hour flight; restlessness was settling into his muscles.
"Sweetie, something wrong?"
Beside him, Alana whispered, glancing up from the crime thriller book she had become immersed in since take-off. The same book that had been on her bedside table for weeks now.
"I'm just getting bored."
"Then sleep?"
"Not tired. Someone wore me out early this morning and I slept until four this afternoon."
Hannibal grinned as a light blush clipped Alana's cheeks. For someone so adventurous in bed, she truly got easily embarrassed when he mentioned it. Biting her bottom lip, the same lip he loved to bite down on, she glanced at the other passengers. His eyes followed her gaze, noting that almost everyone else was asleep, save for the few night owls who, like Alana, were immersed in a book.
Hannibal's companion placed her book back in her bag and stood, stretching before she slithered past. Hannibal watched her, curiosity coaxing at his thoughts,
"Where're you going?"
"You're wide awake. I exhaust you,"
Alana's eyes taunted Hannibal in the dim glow of the overhead light,
"Figure it out."
In silence, Hannibal watched Alana saunter to the back of the plane, the dim lights highlighting her curves, admiring the way the red wrap dress was tight against her skin as it was the night she wore it and shouted at him in his kitchen regarding his actions about Abigail. At the time he had wondered how she'd react if he shut her up with a kiss and rip the dress open. Now he could make his fantasy a reality.
His hands fumbled with his belt, finally unbuckling the damn thing, and he stumbled after her, trying to be as quiet as possible. In the back of his mind, consequences toyed at his synapses, but his hormones bowled the thoughts over.
Alana leaned in the doorway of the lavatory, eyebrows raised and a coy smile splayed over her lips. She stepped aside, giving Hannibal just enough room to squeeze into the tiny area, before she closed and locked the door.
A counter lined one wall while the toilet squatted in a corner. A little cabinet hung over the sink, obstructing the usability of the counter for some late-night fun. That didn't seem to stop Alana, though. She pressed up against Hannibal, her palm massaging his half-hard dick through his pants. His lips found hers, tongues massaging against each other and teeth nipping at lips. Hannibal groped harshly at her ass, enjoying the light gasp that Alana pressed against his lips. Her hands undid his pants, letting the expensive garment fall to the floor. His boxers soon followed. Alana's palms worked against his hard cock, massaging and teasing the head, stroking the shaft, fingertips grazing his balls.
Hannibal moaned against Alana's lips, hoping their lingering kiss would be enough to muffle the volume. She pulled back from the kiss, smiling up at him. One of her hands slid away from his cock and she pressed an index finger to her lips, silently shushing him as she lowered herself to the lidded toilet.
He swallowed heavily as her lips worked against the shaft of his erection. It throbbed against her lips, excitement clawing at his lower stomach. Hannibal couldn't help himself. Both his hands found the back of Alana's head and, without warning; he held her in place and thrust himself deeply into her mouth. She whimpered around his dick as he savored the damp hotness of her mouth and as he enjoyed the feeling of pressing against the back of her throat. Hannibal didn't waste much time in continuing his thrusting.
Alana shivered under the force of his thrusts, her own hands grappling at his hips, nails digging into his skin. The heat in his guts simmered, though, and Hannibal grunted in frustration. After all the previous hours of x-rated fun, Little Cannibal was going to be difficult tonight. Grudgingly, Hannibal withdrew his dick from Alana's mouth. A low demand growled from his lips as she threw him a questioning look,
"Stand up."
Alana obeyed, even turning around and leaning up against the wall behind the toilet. Hannibal's hands slid up her thighs, hiking her skirt up. His fingers slid against the crotch of her underwear, a smile twitching at his lips - while his cock throbbed in excitement - as he noted how damp the fabric was.
In seconds, the underwear was down around Alana's ankles, and Hannibal's hands enjoyed themselves with molesting her tush. A strangled whimper left Alana's lips, but Hannibal ignored it. One hand migrated to Alana's front, fingertips brushing against her wet lips in search of the little bead of sensitivity. His other hand positioned his cock and, just as his fingertips brushed against Alana's clit, he slammed himself into her hot, tight pussy.
Hannibal smirked as Alana's whole body shuddered, another strangled whimper leaving her lips, while her nails clawed against the plastic wall she braced herself against. Her pussy clenched around his cock while her whole body shivered from her clit being teased by his fingertips.
Feeling, for the moment, gracious, Hannibal slid his fingers away from Alana's sweet spot and simply held her hips tightly. She relaxed for a second, before he started to roughly ram his cock into her. The hot wet friction twisted at his guts and the pleasure mounted as Alana worked her body against his rhythm, riving him further into her.
The way Alana was determined to bite back her whimpers and moans just sent the blaze in his stomach burning more hotly. From the mirror over the sink, he watched her pleasurably bite her lower lip. She pressed her mouth against the knuckles of her hand, trying to muffle the intoxicating sounds.
Hannibal dug his fingers into her hips, knowing there'd be bruises there by tomorrow, as he drove himself harder against her. The warmth in his lower abdomen was maddening and the heat in the small room was mounting. Alana tensed beneath him, her legs already trembling. She threw her head back, body arching, as her pussy clenched tightly around his dick. The shudder of pleasure that raced through Alana's body prompted his own to hurtle through him.
"Alana!"
Hannibal shouted as his seed spilled into her. Her pussy still throbbed gently around his cock as he slowly slid out of her. Despite the heavy breathing that clawed at his lungs, Hannibal grinned as Alana weakly leaned against the wall for support.
"Weak-kneed, my dear?"
Chuckled Hannibal as he watched her legs shiver. Alana threw him a glare over her shoulder as she pushed away from the wall, her body wobbling as she forced her legs to support her. Hannibal smiled hands at ready to catch her if she fumbled. Alana turned, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and grumbled against his neck,
"Shut up and pick up my panties."
"You're not putting them back on?"
Alana didn't say anything as she smoothed her skirt down and wriggled around him to the door. Hannibal smiled and shook his head as he pulled his boxers and jeans back up. As he pocketed the red thong, Hannibal teased,
"Well, I guess wearing wet panties isn't comfortable, hm?"
Alana snorted and threw Hannibal an annoyed look, but a smile still twisted at her lips as she opened the lavatory door and something strange happened. Sunlight seemed to fill the plane and Alana disappeared in it.
"Alana? Alana!"
He shouted fumbling out of the small lavatory and looking around at what seemed to be a long corridor, heavily decorated with paintings.
"No..."
Hannibal moaned and allowed his eyes to open.
"Nice dream?"
Bedelia asked as she stopped shaking him.
"Why did you wake me up?"
Hannibal almost growled deep in his throat
"You were moaning in your sleep. I thought you were hurt"
Bedelia's eyes were dancing with mirth but she quickly shut her eyes and pretending to be asleep herself at his lethal expression. She was still in hot water with him and while riddling him about his girlfriend and his erotic dreams was fun, remaining alive was more important.