A Steamy Night in Georgia

After some time had passed, Tori and Wyatt lay curled together like spoons in a kitchen drawer. She felt his heavy breathing and damp perspiration against her skin and reflected on the pleasures they had shared. She pulled away from him slightly and moved to the foot of the bed. She carefully inspected his limp cock, still glistening from the drying mingled juioces of their bodies that had been so deliciously spent in mutual pleasure. She knelt forward and lifted his balls, feeling their solid shape and testing their weight. As Tori gently massaged his testicles, she could see them churning inside their bag, working diligently to produce more sperm as quickly as possible to replenish Wyatt's reservoir. She tentatively licked his scrotum, tasting the sweet saltiness of his...their...flavors. His cock rolled languidly to the left, driven by some internal hydraulic tension as the fluid inside the tubes and chambers of his cock resumed their less interesting circulation. Not wanting to hurt his very sensitive nuts, she delicately licked each nut, sucking it into her mouth, savoring it as one might enjoy a hard candy.

"You are outrageously sexy." said Wyatt as he lifted his head with his right arm to look across himself at the beautiful brown hair nuzzling against his balls.

Lifting herself to smile at him, she placed her arms under Wyatt's knees and lifted until his feet were flat on the bed. His knees splayed crazily, and Tori felt a tingle deep within herself as she saw that his most delicate and pleasurable parts were fully exposed to her enjoyment. She rocked forward and flicked her tongue against Wyatt's anus and saw the involuntary reaction of his tight muscle ring. Tori began quickly lapping her tongue against his ass, feeling his attempts to relax against the ecstatic pleasure she was giving him. She pressed the tip of her tongue against his dark hole and felt Wyatt's strong muscle grip against the relative softness of her tongue, then she brought the middle finger of her right hand up against his asshole and pressed lightly until it disappeared inside him. With short strokes, she worked her finger back and forth inside him, pressing a little more with each push until the second knuckle of her finger was gripped tightly inside him. Tori then curled her finger, searching for the firm round ball of Wyatt's prostate gland. When she found it, she pressed the pad of her finger against it, causing Wyatt to buck and writhe momentarily in pleasure.

"Hey Babe. You can do my prostate exam any time you want." cooed Wyatt. "That feels great!"

With her left hand, Tori encircled the shaft of his stiffening cock and began to stroke him. She moved alongside him to permit better movement of her hands, lips and fingers, and placed her lips gently against the tip of his cock, licking the remains of his glistening juices. She alternately stroked her hand against the length of his cock and pressed her finger in Wyatt's asshole to stimulate his prostate. She could easily see that Wyatt enjoyed the see-sawing motion as he began rhythmically bucking his ass to lengthen her strokes. Tori gently pulled her finger out of his ass and wrapped that hand around his cock in a lewd mimic of sandlot baseball players grabbing the length of a bat to decide who will bat and which team will take the field. As she stroked downward with both hands, she sucked greedily at his cock, pulling it out with a soft slurp as the sucked up toward the enlarging head. Wyatt moved suddenly and turned toward Tori, pressing her face into the pillow he had just vacated, and lifted her hips with both hands so that she was supported on her knees with her ass pointed toward the television. He plunged his cock fully into her cunt from behind her, hard enough that his sperm-heavy balls swung against her clit. He began to pound against her pussy with a primordial subconscious energy that she had not felt in him before. He reached forward and grabbed a tit in each hand, squeezing them hard enough to hurt mildly through the pleasurable sensations his animal energy was generating inside her. He pinched her left nipple and pulled it back toward him but it slipped out of his grasp and he nearly lost his balance, steadying himself against her hips. He held onto her hips with both hands, pulling her body onto his hard cock.

"Mm" Wyatt said, resembling a word only in the deepest ancestral reaches of etymology as he pounded fiercely against the swollen depths of Tori's pussy.

His face was drawn into a contorted twist of lust and passion, determination and sheer ecstasy. In his abandon, Wyatt sometimes drew entirely out of Tori's pussy and she feared that he might miss his target and plunge against her painfully, but each powerfully delivered thrust met the center line of her pulsating cunt perfectly. Tori could feel Wyatt's semen gathering inside his body. Each pounding thrust smashed his balls against her clit and she knew that deep inside him, hundreds of millions of sperm cells, together with gallons and gallons of semen were anxiously reporting for duty along their prescribed course. She knew that he was ready to erupt into her in a powerful tidal wave of white-hot energy, driven by powerful muscles deep inside Wyatt's ass. Tori tried to bend a little more, to stretch her cunt a little wider, to swallow more of this man into her body. She eagerly awaited the waves of slippery hot semen that would try to quench the fire of her hungry pussy. She felt the first seismic tremors of his orgasm just below the opening of her cunt, where her quivering pussy lips plunged into the steaming pink depths of her vagina. The announcement of Wyatt's rapidly approaching orgasm was merely a tiny pause, a hesitation in his thrusting, slightly out of rhythm with his pounding. That tiny spurt of semen triggered the avalanche to follow, and Wyatt dug his fingers into her hips as he gripped her body tightly for one final erupting thrust.

"AAAARRRGHHH!" shouted Wyatt as his pent-up sexual fury was delivered into the exact center of Tori's thirsty pussy. Wave after wave of semen pumped and spurted and flowed into her, filling her own reservoir and spilling out of her cunt like lava erupting from a white-hot volcano. His cum mingled with the hot, salty-sweet fluids of her own orgasm and flowed freely over her clit, stinging as it flowed onto the mattress and sheets.

Chapter Six

Austin Wyatt stood silently, facing the large window of his room on the 23rd floor of the Peachtree Plaza. He wore steel-grey slacks, a crisply starched long-sleeved white business shirt with a navy-blue/gold/red Brooks Brothers "Old School" tie, and highly polished Florsheim Imperials, and looked precisely like the men from his office, of whom he referred only as "Corporate" and only with disdain. He had finished packing, expecting to meet Victoria in a few minutes, and looked over the hazy summer scene outside. He smiled as he reflected on the enjoyable events of the previous day, night and day. It seemed impossible that less than a full day had passed since he decided to go down to the hotel spa and swim a half-mile or so, which intended workout was interrupted by his chance encounter with Tori. He smiled again as he thought of her beautiful brown hair and her long, tapering fingers, and admitted to himself that she really turned him on. He looked through the haze toward McKendrick's, knowing that the patrons from the night before could not have passed their night in any manner to rival his own. Looking at the clock on the night stand, Wyatt finished his glass of iced sparkling water, set the glass on the desk and slung his charcoal grey Burberry blazer over his arm as he opened the door.

He liked to travel light. One of his first gigs, back in the '70s, saw him with a huge hard-sided American Tourister "Two-Suiter," a mid-sized Samsonite briefcase, a Catalog case and a suit bag. He covered eleven cities in fourteen days and they had to pour him out of the plane when he got back to Corporate. He now carried a well-traveled green canvas sea-bag and a backpack for carrying his computer and the various accoutrements of business.

Wyatt stood once again in front of Tori's door on the 19th floor and knocked gently thee times.

"Housekeepin'!" he said with a grin as she opened the door.

"I was worried that I might be overdressed. I put this stuff on because of the guys from Corporate that I need to see tonight... but I must say that we make a stunning pair." Wyatt said as he looked at Tori's statuesque beauty in the doorway.

She was wearing a moleskin-grey Linda Allard business suit with a pair of Bruno Magli cap-toe slingbacks that perfectly accented the long tapering curve of her legs. Wyatt could only imagine what delicious item from Vic's might be lurking next to her warm skin and hoped to be able to discover such enhancements soon.

He was pleased that Tori also liked to travel light. She had an expandable Hartmann wheeled carry-on and a Wally Bag, and was ready to go except for her necklace, which she asked Wyatt to clasp for her once again. He stepped behind her and fitted the little necklace, a gold chain with a single grey pearl, around her neck as she held her long hair up for him. After securing the clasp, he kissed her neck softly, inhaling her musky floral perfume deeply once again. It was a powerful scent but not overpowering. Wyatt supposed that her perfume could be detected only if one were less than three feet from her and he enjoyed having become one of the fortunate few to approach so closely.

They stood quietly in the atrium elevator as seven blue-haired but effervescent ladies associated with a gardening convention descended with them toward the lobby level, discussing the need to eradicate kudzu from the entire North American continent. After settling their statement with the front desk, they stepped out to the curb as Tom held the door open for them.

"Didn't expect to see you today, sir." said Tom. "Ed left a long time ago and didn't say he was coming back. Where you off to?"

Wyatt smiled at tom and pressed a folded bill into Tom's hand. "Hartsfield, Tom. We're flying up to Maine to get away from this damned heat and humidity of yours!"

Tom pointed toward the hotel courtesy shuttle that was loading on the other side of the parking cul-de-sac and offered to help them with their bags, but Wyatt said "Call a cab for me, please. We need to go to the Executive Terminal."

When the cab arrived, Wyatt opened the door for Tori and helped her step inside. Wyatt noted with some disappointment that the cab driver remained in his seat, obviously refusing to render basic courtesy. Tori situated herself in the cab and tried to get as comfortable as possible on the hard seat as Wyatt slid in beside her and closed the door. As the cab jostled through traffic, Tori noticed that Wyatt was obviously less than pleased with the cabbie's driving abilities and style. She reached out her right hand and placed it on Wyatt's knee, partly in an attempt to stabilize herself but also out of desire for her intriguing travel companion, hoping to divert his attention and calm him a little. As the cab swerved between two large trucks, Tori gripped Wyatt's knee. He placed his hand on hers, then lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of her palm, from which Tori gently caressed his cheek.

"It won't be long before we'll be out of here and on our way." Wyatt softly reassured her.

Just then, they both were thrown sharply to the right as the cab took another left turn sharply. Wyatt cleared his throat and glared at the driver's eyes in the rear-view mirror and can see that the driver was giving no more attention to his passengers than he was to his driving.

Trying once again to get Wyatt's attention away from the unpleasant ride, Tori leaned into him and snuggled against his side. Raising her head to look at him, Tori said "Kiss me" as she placed her hand against his right cheek and drew his face toward her. Their lips met, and Tori moaned softly, feeling the excitedly familiar stirrings deep inside herself. Had the cab crashed and exploded, Tori would not have noticed, for her time halted in Wyatt's arms and nothing else mattered. As their lips parted, their tongues entwined in a chase, following each other playfully. Feeling they were being watched, Wyatt glanced toward the driver's mirror and saw eager eyes watching them, immediately beyond which Wyatt saw cross traffic and red traffic signals.

"Hey! You wanna watch what you're doing?" Wyatt gruffly shouted at the driver.

Amid the acrid stench of burnt rubber and tortured brakes, the cab was brought to a stop without collision amid muttered, unintelligible words from the driver.

After a mile or two of monitoring the driver constantly, Wyatt convinced himself that he and his lovely companion would be driven without further injury and placed his left hand on her knee and began sliding his hand upward along the smooth moleskin grey fabric. She closed her eyes as she placed her hand over his and felt shockwaves dancing along her spine. Oblivious to her surroundings, Tori moved Wyatt's hand higher more until it reached the spot she most fervently wanted him to touch. Wyatt explored her carefully and gently stroked, enjoying the pleased, lusty glaze that had come over Tori's eyes.

The cab jolted to a stop along the curb at Atlanta's Hartsfield International airport and the momentary dream Wyatt and Tori enjoyed came to an abrupt end. Getting themselves and their bags out of the cab, Wyatt settled the fare with the driver, but did not feel required or inclined to include a tip as would have been his normal practice. The driver sneered at him and muttered more unintelligible words as he burned away. Had Wyatt been wearing his more typical jeans, golf shirt, and S-K boots, he would have pulled the driver out through the window and whipped his ass, but it was not such a day.

Chapter Seven

"Welcome back, Mr. Wyatt, and you look lovely today, Miss Grayson!" said a small cheerful man that appeared from nowhere.

He effortlessly slung Tori's Wally bag over his shoulder, took Wyatt's sea bag, grabbed the handle of Tori's suitcase and disappeared as quickly as he had materialized. Although she felt a momentary horror at the thought she'd never see her clothes again, Tori resigned herself with the confidence that everything within Austin Wyatt's universe would be orderly and precise and her luggage would reappear when needed.

The sign on the low pedestal in the neatly trimmed lawn of the quiet terminal building read "Million Air" and Tori knew that this was no ordinary airport terminal. Instead of dodging cars, busses, skycaps and courtesy vans, they walked across a wide entryway as the door opened in front of them and they were greeted by other attentive people.

"Good morning, Miss Grayson" they would say, or perhaps "You look stunning today, and "It is good to have you again, Mr. Wyatt."

Victoria wondered inwardly how it was that they might have known her name, and knew that Wyatt must have called them from his room to arrange it. As they moved past the low marble-topped desk, the blonde girl behind the desk with what had to be a boob job cooed

"Sixty-Nine Echo is all ready for you, Mr. Wyatt...."

Tori wondered what sort of stories would be heard if only those walls could be made to speak.

"It's November two four six niner echo, Lisa." replied Wyatt to the lady behind the desk.

Tori thought to herself that 'lady' probably wasn't an appropriate title, but it seemed to be the most polite description.

"I know," said Lisa as she looked at Wyatt in the manner a cat might entertain a mouse, "But it sounds like more fun the way I say it."

"I hate that stuff," Wyatt said softly to Tori as they walked out onto the ramp, which waved in the heat from the relentless July sun.

"I get so much grief over that. The FAA in Oklahoma City assigns the numbers, and they're so bureaucratic down there that they can't comprehend giving me another tail number."

About twenty yards away, Tori could see the plane with N2469E painted on the vertical fin. It was beautiful. It was painted white with a golden brown stripe about six inches wide running the full length, accompanied by a burgundy stripe above and a dark green stripe below that flared over the curves of the fuselage and up the vertical fin to make the plane appear to be moving swiftly through the air even though it was standing still. The door was open and Tori stepped inside to a flow of cool air. Remembering the times she had flown with the airlines and nearly melted in a cramped sardine seat, and at the same moment noticing the single red rose in its tall, slim crystal flute, Tori reminded herself that this would be no ordinary trip. She sat down in one of the large grey seats and enjoyed feeling the buttery soft leather upholstery. It reminded her of the big recliner chair that her Dad used to have, into which she would climb as a little girl when he read stories to her. Tori paused to reflect over the many things that have happened in her life since those simpler times. She relished the good and pleasurable times, and wished that the heavy book containing details of the hard times would stay closed on her mental shelf and not come tumbling down upon her any more. She looked out the window and watched Wyatt as he carefully inspected whatever it was he was checking, and she enjoyed watching the muscles of his arms move as he did those chores. She inspected him carefully as he walked away from her, out toward the wingtip, noticing the movement of his butt. He turned around the end of the wing and walked back toward the cabin, and waved to her as he happened to notice her watching him.

After a few minutes, he came into the cabin with her and said "You going to sit back here? I want you to see everything!"

Wyatt led her forward to the cockpit and motioned for her to sit in the first officer's seat on the right. She eased into the firm but comfortable seat and Wyatt showed her how to adjust the seat for her best comfort. It was like the power seats in a car, with switches to slide the seat forward and back, up and down, and tilt the cushion and back support.

"Delta coach was never like this." Tori observed,

"And neither are the seatbelts!" said Wyatt as he helped her into the full shoulder harness, pulling the harness snug against her.

"Don't worry," said Wyatt. "When the captain turns off the seat belt sign you will be free to adjust it as loose as you want, but I want it to be tight until then."

Wyatt swung easily into the left seat and flicked a few switches. Tori had seen pictures of airplane cockpits and had poked her head onto the flight deck of a 727 after she and her family had landed at O'Hare several years ago, but she was startled by what she now saw. Two computer monitor panels suddenly lighted in front of each of them, and the same information was displayed on each pair of screens. Wyatt flicked some more switches, and text appeared on the screen on the right. Tori read the top line, "Before Engine Start" and wondered about the meaning of the various instructions given in front of her in list format. She watched the man next to her look at the screen, touch a switch or some other device and softly say "check" then repeat the process. After a short time the display changed to "Engine Start" and Tori felt a tingle of excitement between her legs which quickly spread all over her body.

There was a faint, faraway sound of rushing air, then a low moaning whine that rose in pitch that reminded her of the sound a slide whistle makes. As the pitch rose, other gauges came to life as Wyatt awoke this beautiful flying machine from its slumber. Wyatt offered Tori a little headset which she fit over her ear. As soon as it was in place, she heard the short, terse conversations that take place among airports and airplanes. A woman's voice was describing winds, temperatures, runways and other information which must surely be important to the movement of airplanes.