Ay Ay Captain

"It's been an hour," Paul's voice gently coaxed her from her sleep. She opened her blue eyes to stare around the small cabin, an utterly befuddled expression evident on her young face. Not her home, not Paul's home. Where was she, exactly? She wiped the confusion from her eyes and yawned.

"You okay?" Paul inquired softly, leaning closer to her with a wide grin. "You look confused."

"We're on an airplane?" she asked softly.

Paul erupted into laughter. "Amy, hello! We're going to Australia? Don't you remember?"

Amy nodded. "We're going to Australia."

"For a gig?" Paul coaxed with great amusement. "We're opening for Green Day?"

Amy nodded and continued to yawn. "It's only been an hour?"

"Yeah," Paul frowned playfully. "I've been staring at my watch ever since the plane took off. Incidentally, that was right around the time you fell asleep and left me to wallow in my boredom. Alone."

"Sorry," Amy grinned and snuggled back into the leather seat. "I'm tired."

Paul smirked. "I'm horny."

"That's lovely," Amy quipped, fidgeting in her seat. "Where's everyone else?"

"Umm," Paul inched up in his seat to stare down the length of the plane. "Chris and Benji are singing the Macarena and dancing in their seats. Joel looks asleep. How the fuck can he sleep through that?"

Amy giggled.

"And I think Billy and Linzi are both asleep too," he sighed. "How come everyone can sleep on planes but me?"

Amy shrugged.

"I'm horny," Paul smirked for the second time.

"What did you do while I slept?" Amy inquired, ignoring her boyfriend's veiled hint.

Paul shrugged and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Watched you sleep. Watched some of the movie. Tried to write some poetry."

"Anything good?" Amy grinned, searching the floor between them for her boyfriend's journal.

"Not really," Paul frowned, leaning forward to grab Amy's hand. "But I discovered something while writing."

"What's that?" Amy smiled sweetly, allowing him to take her small hand into his own.

Paul grinned mischievously. "I'm horny!"

"PAUL!" Amy nearly shrieked, causing several of the nearby passengers to glare at the couple. She cringed and shook his hand off. "Stop! We're on a plane," she finished with a slight whisper. "Stop!"

He sighed loudly and turned to stare out the small window. Beneath them, a deep blue sea was visible, sweeping by at hundreds of miles per mere minutes. They were somewhere in the Pacific, headed for their far away destination at a rapid speed. Yet not rapid enough: it would still be hours before they arrived.He sighed again and tried to ease back into his chair, trying desperately to forget the dull ache centered directly in his pants. Amy was trying to lean over him to see out the window, seemingly plotting against his attempt at subtle resolve. He wanted to lean forward and place a soft kiss on her lips. Work his tongue inside her mouth, slowly unbutton her blouse. Taking one small, pink nipple between his lips and . . .

Amy's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Paul?" she whispered.

He tried to straighten in his seat, tugging at the fabric of his shorts in a desperate attempt to hide the obvious. He tugged, the shorts went nowhere. He tugged again, nothing. Then Amy's hand was clasping his crotch.

"You're happy to be here," Amy cooed into his ear softly, coquettishly.

Paul just nodded.

"What were you thinking about?" Amy inquired, her tone teasing and he wanted to grab her and pull her onto his lap.

"You," he grinned, succeeding this time in stretching enough to ease the tension in his shorts. "Naked."

"Mmm," Amy grinned. "That's a nice thought."

Paul nodded, drinking in the delicious tension in the air. "I thought so."

"So what should we do about this problem of yours?" Amy grinned, gesturing lewdly toward the lump in his pants.

Paul smirked and stood up, stretching, and gestured for Amy to allow him out of the aisle. "Give me five minutes. Watch which bathroom I go into."

Amy grinned, licking her lips reflexively as she watched Paul saunter to the back of the plane and step into the small door on the right. Two seconds later, the "Occupied" light was illuminated and Amy felt her stomach do a summersault.

"I must be crazy," she sighed as she sunk back into her seat and began to count down the seconds. She watched the small hands of her watch tick away each second of every minute, before finally standing up to approach the bathroom slowly. It was a mere twenty steps away, though to Amy it felt like a ten mile walk. Her heart was racing, her pulse was threatening to pound from her wrists. Sweat glazed her forehead as she knocked softly on the small door.

The door opened, a grinning Paul hidden inside. Or not so hidden. She sighed as she stepped into the confined space and he shut the door behind her. Fucking like this was going to be difficult. Very difficult. There was barely any room to move, let alone get undressed. Let alone-

"Amy?"

"Yes, Paulie?"

"How are we going to do this?" he questioned, voice seriously pondering their conundrum. "I don't have much room to move."

"Maybe you should have laid off the Krispy Kremes, huh?" Amy chided, poking her man in the gut. It wasn't a particularly large gut, but still she loved to taunt him. To crack joke after joke about his tubbiness. Not that that's really a word, but still. She loved to call him her "Tubby Lover".

Paul frowned. "That's not funny. I don't eat a lot!"

"I was teasing you, baby."

"I know," he smirked. "But I don't want teasing, I want fucking!"

Amy nodded and tried to scoot around him and toward the miniscule sink. "I'll sit up here and you can stand."

Paul nodded. "How am I going to get my pants off?"

"Just pull them down."

"How am I going to get your skirt off?"

"Paulie?"

"Yeah?" he questioned, looking flustered and confused.

Amy smirked sideways and yanked her blouse over her head quickly. "Would you shut up and fuck me?"

He offered her a mock salute as she shoved his slacks as far down his thighs as she could. He was grinning like a child when she exposed his already stiff erection. She licked her lips and beamed up at him.

"You like?" he purred.

Amy shook her head and laughed. "I've always liked it, baby."

"I know," Paul beamed with pride. "Do you think it's possible to blow me in here?"

Amy rolled her eyes and wrapped her fist around his length. "No. Now quit pushing it and let's fuck."

Paul smirked. "Ay ay captain!"

It wasn't long before he was embedded deep inside her moistness. She tried to quell her moans for fear of being discovered and, worse yet, tossed off the plane. Well, actually, that might not be possible. Either way, being caught might be part of the thrill, but she certainly did not want it to be reality. At all. So instead of offering her usual vocal appreciation, she chose instead to dig her nails into Paul's muscular back. Leaving trails of scratches and bruises, blood and pain. He growled with each thrust, and she simply dug her nails deeper.

"You're so tight," he whispered in her ear.

"Thanks," she laughed.

"Fuck," he moaned. "Amy, I can't fucking last like this."

"Then cum," she urged him. And it might not have been romantic, and it might have been short-lived...but it turned out that it was exactly what she needed. What they needed.

Paul pushed deep inside her body one last time before nipping her earlobe gently and releasing himself. She felt her body twitch in response as she snaked a finger delicately across her clitoris.

"Did you cum?" he questioned, stepping back the miniscule amount the confined space allowed and wiping sweat from his brow.

Amy nodded. "You always make me cum."

"Good," Paul beamed with machismo.

He cleaned himself quickly, and returned to their seats. Amy waited the requisite five minutes before following behind. Upon returning, she found Paul slumbering peacefully against the window. Chris occupied his best friend's former aisle seat.

"What's up?" Amy smiled as she inched into the row and took the seat between the two men.

Chris grinned. "Oh baby, you make me cum everytime!"

She turned bright crimson just as the Paul's remaining band mates erupted into loud guffaws of laughter.