He kisses the back of her hand gently, twirling her name in his head. Anastasia Steele, I have to remember that.
"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Ms. Steele."
Her eyes still sparkle from the surprise encounter, and her cheeks are flushed from the sprint to catch the plane, but the smile on her lips has faded a bit.
The flight-attendant has finished closing the doors and is now standing behind Anastasia and clearing her throat.
"khm... Ma'am. Please take your seat, we're about to taxi." She says, with a built in smile on her face.
"Oh, of course."
Anastasia lifts her carry-on bag into the overhead compartment, and Christian steals a peek at her breasts jiggling beneath the thin fabric of her satin blouse. He smirks slightly as he sees her nipples puckering against the fabric, in the cool air-conditioned plane. No bra, Ms. Steele, I like it. He drinks the rest of his complimentary drink, closes his eyes and leans back, basking in the memory of her perfect breasts, which he got a mouthful of the other night. Do they taste as delicious without the bucketful of rum and cokes?He wonders,tapping his chin with his fingers as a smile plays on his lips.
"Something amusing Mr. Grey?" Her voice startles him from his daydream.
He shrugs and smiles. "Maybe."
The airplane starts to move. Taking a deep breath, he stares at the colorful buildings of the airport becoming smaller. A knot tightens in the pit of his stomach, as the fact, that they're about to take off, registers.
He grips the armrests, squeezing them so hard his knuckles turn white when the plane suddenly accelerates heavily, pushing his back into his seat, desperate to gain enough speed to lift off before hitting the tropical forest on the end of the short runway.
His stomach drops when the plane leaves the ground, and he shuts his eyes tightly as the top of the palm trees swish by, much too close for comfort.
"I guess you don't fly much, huh?"
He hears her ask, but he doesn't open his eyes. His heart beats so hard, it feels it'll jump out of his chest, and as a bead of sweat runs down the side of his face, he wishes that she wasn't there, seeing him in such a state.
Think of your happy place, he tells himself and draws the image of a moonlit beach, a man and a woman. His fingers tangled in her hair, sand rubbing against his back as she straddles her, burying his dick deep inside her. She tastes salty, after their dip in the sea, as he kisses her neck.
Suddenly Christian feels a cool cloth drying away the sweat from his temples and then a hand laid on his. Her cool fingers work their way in between his, slowly making him loosen his vice like grip of the armrest.
Opening his eyes, he stares at the beautifully manicured hand on his. Slowly he lets his gaze trail along her hand, past the golden bracelet,up her arm, neck, lips, until he is watching into her eyes filled with worry.
"Are you ok?"
He swallows, and nods.
"I'll be fine. I'm just not comfortable with the take offs, or the landings." Nor the time in between, he thinks but doesn't say it out loud.
"It's okay, we're soon at cruising altitude, Christian." She strokes his hand a few times before letting go. The lack of her touch leaves him feeling lost, and the ache in fingers make him realize that his other hand is still holding the armrests in a death grip.
He opens and closes his fists, trying to get the blood back to his fingers.
"You know, I thought I'd never see you again." He says after they've been served croissants and another round of drinks.
"Yeah... Um. I'm sorry." She picks on her croissant, not looking at him.
"For what happened?"
She bites her lip, to stifle a smile as she turns towards him.
"No... That I'm not sorry for. I'm sorry for bolting. I just had to be back in my room by sunrise."
"Mm. Okay?" He slices the croissant open and spreads a dollop of strawberry jam into it.
"Yeah, I had made a deal with my... Um... Mother. That I'd be at my room when she calls."
"Yeah, I get that. If I'd get a dime every time my mother has checked in on me when I've been out..."
"You'd be a millionaire?"
He chuckles.
"Well, probably not quite a millionaire, but relatively wealthy anyway."
"To mother-hens," she toasts; emptying her glass and tapping the corners of her mouth with her napkin, careful not to smudge her red lipstick. "But still. I'm sorry, I didn't leave a note."
"I can't believe, I didn't even know your name." He shakes his head and takes a bite of his jam filled croissant.
"Christian?" Ana says.
"Yes?" He swallows.
"Um... You dropped some jam." She leans over placing one hand on his knee and scoops the jam, with her finger, off his light grey shirt. Their breaths hitch as their gazes meet. Slowly she holds out the finger with the jam, and after a second of hesitation, he opens his mouth and sucks her finger clean. Feeling his warm wet tongue on her finger, her mouth waters andshe bites her lip. He watches her do so, and the sexual tension crackles through the air.
For a moment they break their eye contact and she mumbles, "That'll probably stain." Her last word hardly audible asthey crash their lips onto each other, and lose themselves in a passionate kiss.
His fingers tangle in her hair as he pushes his tongue past her lips. The kiss tastes like strawberries mixed with champagne, a taste neither of them ever want to forget. Her nails scratch against his neck and they moan, not caring if they are heard or seen.
Breathless, their lips part, and Christian crosses his legs, to give more space for his erection already straining against the fabric of his trousers.
Her nipples are hardened nubs against her blouse, and her chest is heaving. She traces her smudged lips with the tips of her fingers and a blush spreads over her cheeks when she meets his gaze.
Her gaze travels down, to the bulge in his pants and instinctively she licks her lips.
The silverware rattles against the plastic trays as the plane suddenly shakes. Within seconds the telltale ping rings as the seatbelt lights are lit. Christian scrambles, desperate to get this belt fastened, but his fingers fail him, as panic invades his body.
Anastasia fastens her own belt and then calmly reaches over and shuts his seatbelt for him, gracing his now semi hard erection through his pants, as if by mistake. She takes his hands in hers, holding them, gently stroking over his knuckles, to affirm her presence. Her touch calms him enough to get his mind off the rocking plane and the panic, and back to the happy place he imagined. On the beach, lying in the sand while she straddles him, naked. Her perfect tits bouncing in his face, as she leans forward. He catches them and licks them, sucking on the nipples and finally biting them gently. Somewhere in the background is the announcement for a bit of turbulence, but Christian is too busy imagining his dick inside her perfect pussy, to notice.
Christian's eyes fly open as her hands leave his, just to be placed on his dick a second later. His eyes dart to her, his mouth opening to speak but words failing him, as the plane shakes again like a car with broken suspension driving on a bumpy road. He closes his eyes, the jumping treys not a visual he needs in his head.
Happy place, happy place, happy place. He repeats the words in his head. A desperate mantra to keep him from panicking. Back on that beach, the waves soak them, as they lie entwined on the sand, her body under his. His dick plunges into her sweet pussy, her nails digging into his back. She feels wet, hot and heavenly. It's his personal paradise, his happy place to keep the panic from taking over.
His eyes are still tightly shut, his fantasy of them together, making him totally oblivious to the fact that Anastasia is stroking his hardening cock, opening his belt and unzipping his pants. She tugs his erection free, now stroking it, skin on skin.
Glancing around, making sure no one is watching, she bends down and at first licks his cock, tasting him, before taking him in as deep as she can. His eyes burst open and he sucks in air as his brain registers what's going on.
"Wha..? Aahh..." His question transforms into a deep moan as she flicks her tongue over the frenulum.
She pumps him with her hand, while sucking him in synch, ignoring the turbulence rocking the plane. His breath becomes shorter, and he starts to thrust, as much as the seatbelt holding him down will allow. His balls are tight, and he squeezes the armrests harder as she picks up the pace, sensing his impending release. With the last tremors of the plane, he throws his head back and grunts, emptying himself inside her, cursing himself for his lack of control while thanking all the deities for getting on this trip and meeting her.
He watches her swallow as she gets up after tucking his now somewhat flaccid member into his pants. A smile is playing on her lips, as she licks them.
"Whoa." He finally manages to speak and he is rewarded by her giggle.
"Quite the wordsmith, aren't you?"
He chuckles.
"Well, you caught me by surprise. I don't know what to say… Except thank you."
"Don't mention it. I read somewhere that attaching something pleasurable to a situation that makes you panic, might help to get through a similar situation later..." She shrugs and tucks a stray hair behind her ear.
"Oh, really? I've just tried imagining 'my happy place'." He makes the quotations with his fingers.
She leans back in her chair, crossing her legs while observing him, with a spark in her eye.
"Do tell. What's your happy place, Christian?"
"It's... Um." He folds the napkin on the trey, trying to decide whether to tell her the truth or not.
"Come on, you can tell me... Is it a baseball game? Football match? Sitting by your computer? Going to the movies with your..." She stops realizing she really doesn't know much about him.
"No. No. No... And no." He answers lifting his brows to make a point.
"So… Who would you go to the movies with?" She asks, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.
"With some friends. There's no girlfriend, if that's what you're asking."
She nods, somewhat relieved with his answer. Not giving him any time to ask about her she pushes on. "So, the happy place, tell me."
"You really want to know, don't you?"
"Yes please, with sugar on top."
He sighs, shakes his head and swallows before saying,
"It's on that beach, near the Paradise, the spot where no one could see us."
"Yeah, that was a lovely place..." She drops her sandal and swings her foot, the anklet catching his attention.
"I'm not alone there." He says, his voice hardly louder than a whisper, the tips of his ears burning red.
A sly smile plays on her lips and she cocks her head, lifting her brows.
"Really?"
She uncrosses her legs, turns towards him and leans closer. "Who's with you?" She asks, and her scent invades his senses. Fumbling, he opens his seatbelt and turns towards her. Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, he strokes the side of her cheek with the back of his fingers, reveling in the smoothness of her skin. The pull between them almost impossible to resist.
His eyes are fixed on her parted red lips. The smudge of her lipstick stands in testimony that the kiss and the blowjob were not just his imagination. Her eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. Spellbound, at this moment nothing else exists in their universe. The only sound is their hearts thumping. Her tongue darts over her lower lip and he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down under his five o'clock shadow.
"May I take your trays, please?" The flight attendant snaps their bubble and they retreat back into their seats, avoiding looking at the pretty blonde taking away the rest of their snacks.
That moment of magic, now vanished, weighs on them, making small talk extremely awkward. He talks about the weather, and the sights he saw, while imagining her body arching of pleasure beneath him. She asks him questions, keeping the conversation on him, not giving away much of herself. Their eyes lock at times and the undeniable chemistry is there.
Desperate for any distraction Christian bends down and searches for his book in his bag, that's lying between his feet on the floor. He sneaks a peek at her feet, the red nail polish just as bright as that night on the beach. A reflection of light on the floor, catches his attention.
He deserts his bag and reaches over to pick up a single diamond earring lying on the floor beneath Anastasia's chair. Holding it in his hand, he sits back up.
"Is this yours? It was on the floor."
Her hand instantly goes to her ear.
"It must've fallen. Thank you so much for finding it." She takes the earring from his palm, the touch of her fingers on his skin makes his heart flutter. That chemistry, that electric current between them, is as strong as ever.
She hesitates, before pressing it back into his hand.
"Can you please put it on? I never manage to get that hook fastened."
"Sure." Christian answers, his voice sounding much more confident than what he's feeling.
She lifts the armrest from between them, and moves closer, tilting her head and pushing her hair away from the way.
His fingers trembling, he manages to push the earring through the hole in her earlobe. Her skin under his fingers is soft, and her scent intoxicating.
"Damn it" he fumbles with the hook, afraid to pull on her ear.
"Just push the hook through that loop, don't worry, you are not hurting me." She tries to reassure him.
Finally he gets the earring fastened properly and he trails his fingers down the line of her neck. She closes her eyes and leans into his touch, slowly turning her head until their breathing mixes.
The bubble around them is back, and this time no one interrupts their kiss, filled with passion, desire and burning lust.
"I want you." He whispers into her lips between kisses.
"I need you." She pants in return, and he pulls himself away, looking around,
"Here?"
She nods biting her lips.
"How?" Sex on a plane has not crossed his mind before this day.
"Meet me at the first class restrooms." She says, already standing up and walking through the short corridor of the first class. She stops half way there, looks around and for a moment she squints disapprovingly, but then her expression changes and she returns back.
"Occupied?" He asks, confused with her change of mind.
"No, but I just realized, we are alone in first class."
"Really?" He jumps up from his chair and looks around. Indeed, around them are just empty seats after empty seats.
She walks to him, pressing her body against his. Tiptoeing to reach his ear, and after kissing him beneath it, she whispers, "You know? These seats recline all the way down."
"What about the flight attendants." He suddenly feels nervous.
"Don't worry about them." She winks and stepping away from him takes her bag from the overhead storage. She takes out a skirt and returns the bag back up.
"Just a sec." She goes to the toilet, leaving Christian running his hands through his hair, while trying to get himself to grip what they are going to do. His hard-on throbs inside his trousers, and he finds himself stroking it through the fabric.
Anastasia appears from the toilet, wearing the skirt, carrying the capris she was wearing earlier. She finds an attendant and says something to her, yawning widely. The attendant nods and smiles, and within seconds the lights of the first class are dimmed.
Anastasia returns to Christian with a victorious smile on her face.
"Now let's fix our bed and go to sleep." She winks and pushes the buttons that make the two chairs recline to an almost horizontal position.
Christian, still nervous, sits, and then lies down, his feet hanging over the seat. She lies down beside him, her leg on top of his, her head on his arm.
He turns to her, and kisses her, hard and deep. His hands roam her body, quickly realizing that she is naked underneath her wide skirt.
Breaking away from their kiss, he opens his belt and trousers, pushing his boxers down, revealing his hard on which she catches in her hand. They shuffle to their sides, her back to his front, and his hands sneak their way into the skirt and to the patch of trimmed hair above her pussy.
He circles his fingers over her clit and she moans, perking her butt against his erection.
Lifting her skirt just enough to make contact, he strokes her with the tip of his cock from behind, spreading her wetness.
"Anastasia…" Her name a prayer on his lips as he thrusts himself inside her.
"Ah… Christian." She replies moaning quietly.
They move quietly, aware of the flight attendants assuming that they are asleep. He tugs on her nipples now hard as rocks and she bites her finger not to moan out loud. He thrusts faster, his balls tightening. Her hips meet his thrusts, and she catches his hand from her breasts and places it inside her skirt, on top of her clitoris.
Her fingers on top of his, he massages her most sensitive spot until she mewls, as her whole body spasms of the force of the orgasm tearing through her. His cock gets milked dry by her pussy and for a while his world goes blank.
"My… God…" She pants, the aftershocks of her orgasm still pulsing through her.
"My Goddess." He replies, pressing a gentle kiss on her neck, making her shiver.
He tucks himself inside his boxers and closes his trousers. He hands her the towel, with Paradise embroidered, from his bag and she wipes herself, not wanting to leave sperm stains on the seats, before putting on underwear and straightening her skirt. She snuggles into him and they dose off. Sated, satisfied and exhausted.
"Ma'am, Sir… Time to wake up, we are about to land soon and you have to put up your seats." The flight attendant is standing by their makeshift bed.
Christian slowly opens his eyes, taking in his surroundings. It takes a few seconds before he get where he is, and he sits up, jolting Anastasia from her sleep as well.
"What?" She mumbles.
"Anastasia, wake up, we're landing soon." She opens her eyes and sits up.
"I have to go change." She says, her expression dead serious, she grabs her capris and handbag before heading to the toilet.
Christian presses the buttons and watches the chairs raise back up. He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. Holy hell. This is one flight I will never forget, he thinks as he folds the stained towel into his bag and pulls the zipper shut.
Anastasia returns from the toilet, her hair in order, lipstick redone. She quickly returns the skirt into her bag and sits down, just in time as the captain announces that they are starting the decent and the seatbelt light is turned on.
Christian stares at her, and she glances at him, with a tight smile on her lips. They both sit quiet, but she catches his hand in hers, keeping him calm until the plane finally touches down on the tarmac at Los Angeles international airport.
"So where are you going from here?" She asks as the plane is taxiing towards the terminal.
"I'm going north, Portland." One more fucking flight, which will probably not include any fucking, he seethes. "You?"
"I'm getting off here, LA baby…" She smiles wistfully.
"Well, I've got five hours to kill…" He says... Looking at her, hoping she would take the hint.
"I'm sorry, but my… mother is expecting me." She answers, biting the inside of her cheek.
"Oh, ok." He frowns and stares at his nails for a moment. Her rejection stings, but hey, it's not like he isn't used to it. And besides overprotective mothers, are not to be messed with.
"Well… If you ever come to Portland, or Washington State, call me?" He digs for his card, giving it to her.
"Sure thing, you do the same if you come to LA." She smiles, grabs another of his cards and scribbles down her number on the backside and gives it back to him.
They are the first to leave the plane. And after exchanging a somewhat awkward, chaste kiss while going down in the elevator together, they part, Anastasia leaving the terminal as Christian walks to the Starbucks overlooking the lobby.
"One Tall Caffè Misto, thanks." He pays for his coffee and stares at the people exciting the airport, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Suddenly he sees her. She walks, her head held high, pulling her carry-on bag behind her. Her hair shines in the early morning sun, her tanned skin absolutely perfect. Christian snaps a picture of her with the camera on his phone. He needs something concrete to remember her by. She stops, smiles widely and waves at someone. His eyes dart into the direction, trying to get a look at whoever it is that has come to meet her.
Oh, it's her dad, he thinks as he sees the older gentleman dressed in light trousers and a black shirt, waving on the other side of the passageway. She doesn't stop smiling as she approaches him, and her steps become faster until she's almost running. Of course she's happy to see her dad, Christian thinks, takes a sip of his coffee and blinks twice as he sees the man envelope Anastasia in his arms, bending down and kissing her on the lips, sliding his hand over her bottom.
AN:
The reception of this story has been awesome so far! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
So, what did you think of part two? Let me know.
H xx