I’m hoping to be properly back this week, so I’m kicking things off with a quick story about sexy shorts and not-quite fucking in an airport for Masturbation Monday! I’m wearing my own shorts that make me feel super sexy today, but I’m pretty sure I won’t get fucked in an airport either…
“Those shorts make me want to do things to you,” she whispers to me as we hug.
“How do you know that’s not why I wear them?” I ask her, grinning into her neck. It’s been too long since we held each other like this, and I protest as she pulls away. She only does so, however, so she can kiss me, and now I wonder why we didn’t do this to start with. Her hands slip under my shirt, fingers-nails drawing lightly down my spine and making me push my body closer into hers.
I’m breathless when we part.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too. Now, walk ahead of me so I can stare at your cute wee butt in those shorts and imagine what I’m going to do to it later.”
“You know, we have strong evidence that there are several bathrooms in a far closer vicinity that you can fuck me in.”
“And you know that we agreed last time you met me that we’d wait until we got home.”
“However, I believe since then – correct me if I’m wrong – you came to meet me and fingered me to orgasm in the back of a taxi because you simply couldn’t wait any longer?”
“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.”
“I wasn’t, but I do think I can use it as a precedent that we should fuck now instead of doing somewhere even more risky when it becomes obvious that we can’t wait until we reach our flat.”
“You could, but you’d be forgetting who is in charge here.”
There’s barely an inch of height difference between us, but sometimes my girlfriend can make me feel very small. She’d lowered her voice, so no one around us would have overheard, but I can’t stop the blush from creeping into my cheeks. She knows I find it both embarrassing – and a little arousing because of that – when she mentions that she owns me in earshot of others.
“Ahh, there’s the blush that makes you so pretty for me.”
She catches my chin in her hand, so I’m forced to look into her eyes, flushing a deeper red. Leaning forward, she gently kisses my lips.
“We’re going to make it home this time, but if you want to be given permission to come when I fuck you, I’d suggest that you do as you’re told and walk ahead of me wiggling your sweet arse at me.
Because if you can’t follow that order, how do I know you were a good girl when I was away? Maybe you need a beating and another week of denial…”
“No, no, no.” I interrupt her quickly. “I was good. I’m your good girl.”
“Excellent, because good girls get to have orgasms when we get home.”
I turn and walk towards the airport’s exit, pouting when she can no longer see my face. I’d been counting on my shorts to get me an airport orgasm.
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Image sourced through Pixabay.