tagErotic CouplingsExecutive Platinum Ch. 08

Executive Platinum Ch. 08


Thanks again to Gary13, his suggestions and editing making for a better story once again.


I awoke the following morning to the realization that it was much later than normal. Although the curtains were closed, the sun penetrating around the edges told me it was well past the time when I normally wake up. I hadn't awakened at dawn so I hadn't gotten up for my normal run -- but on the other hand I hadn't gone to bed until shortly before dawn either. All very unusual for me.

Another unusual event was that I had a morning erection. Maybe not an unusual event for an 18 or 28 year old -- but it has been quite some time since I even saw 38. The body still responds, just not quite in the rampant way it used to.

The cause of the erection was easy to identify however; the soft, cool hand that was gently massaging and stroking me.

I barely moved; maybe I took a deep breath, maybe she felt me stiffen a bit, but she knew I was awake.

"I like it when he's soft and I make him hard," Gloria whispered in my ear. She was lying on her side, her upper hand playing with me.

"You're an insatiable slut," I answered.

"You should be here when I wake up in the morning more often." Gloria pulled me from my side onto my back where she changed her fondling into a slow hand job.

"Why is that," I responded, "so you can fuck me to death?"

"Just who was it that called and asked someone to spend a weekend in sin with them?"

"Moi? I didn't do that. I just asked if you could get away. I never said a thing about sin, or sex, or fucking me until I died." I'd put my hand onto her thigh, sliding my arm under hers when I rolled over, gradually running it over her body and belly. I felt the soft fur of her shaved pubic heart, running a finger around the edge, feeling the perfect smoothness of her newly shaved flesh. When I started my hand lower, her legs spread, welcoming my caress. She was already wet.

"But you implied it. Why else would you bring me to a nude resort?"

"To work on your all over tan, of course." I pulled a wetted finger onto her clit, lightly touching it, swirling a finger around the little nub.

"Umm." Her legs spread just a little wider.

"She knew just how to touch me."

"Mary?" She didn't answer.

"Just like that, not too hard."

I understood exactly what she meant, I continued my play of her clit, barely touching her; at the same time her stroking of my cock became a little firmer.

"She was so gentle. I've never liked a lot of attention on my clit. My ex would always just attack me and make me numb; I got where I just did other things. But she knew exactly what I needed." I dipped my finger into her honey pot again, increasing the lubricant on my finger.

"Ummm. God, that's so nice. So nice."

"Were you good to her?"

"I think so," she answered, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

"Did you like going down on her?"

"Oh..." I wasn't sure if her exclamation was from the memory of the night before or from what I was doing. Maybe a little bit of both. She was beginning to squirm to my touch. "Just a little harder... Yeah, like that." She exhaled then slowly took in a deep breath. "Umm."

"Was it all you expected?" I asked, implying I was still asking the same question.

"I don't think she gets... as wet as I do. I... Oh god. Ummm" Her hips had started rising to force herself against my hand; I just kept pulling my hand further away, keeping my touch barely there. "I need it harder," she exhaled. I didn't give it to her, keeping my touch a tease, making her want more but not giving it to her. Raising my arm to keep her from forcing her clit into my touch caused me to push against her arm, which made it difficult for her to stroke me. Her hand stilled -- just holding my hardness.

"Well? Was it what you expected?"

"Her lips were so soft. And when I touched her clit, it was this little tiny thing and it kept getting bigger... Oh." I had rubbed my finger across the tip of her clit and she'd twitched in response.

"Did she taste as good as you do?"

"Different. I like sucking me off your cock better, but it was good." Her hand had slipped from my cock; it now gripped my leg. "It was exciting."

"So what was the best?" Her legs ground together against my hand, but not getting the desired result as I withdrew my finger. She let out a little crying moan.

"Oh, don't tease."

She eased up on her legs; I slipped my finger down, wetting it again in her honey and drawing it up around her clit. "What was the best? What did you like most?

"Uhm, when she came... her clit... kept getting bigger, and when she came... it throbbed. I felt it on my tongue, it throbbed and it felt so good."

It was my turn to moan. "Umm. That's the best. I love it when I have your clit on my tongue and it throbs. I love making you cum."

"I need to cum." I'd never heard her so close to begging.

Her own clit was swollen; I could tell her lips were also, from their full, meaty feel. My teasing had her on edge, the blood flowing to her nether regions, her organs swelling to the touch and anticipation of what was yet to come.

I didn't keep her waiting any longer, I dipped my finger into her pussy one more time, but this time drew it up onto her clit and rubbed directly against it for the first time. Her hips rose, pushing herself against me. I was going to shift up and go down on her but I missed my chance. She came.

Her lower body shook and I didn't pursue rubbing her clit after she started coming. Her left hand came over and gripped mine, moving it so my finger continued dancing around and across her clit, forcing my hand where she wanted it, gradually slowing down until she stopped moving my hand, leaving my finger resting on her clit. I just held it there.

"That was really nice. I wish I could wake up this way every morning."

"Nah. If you did this every morning you'd get bored with me and the next time I call you for a weekend in sin you'd just say "What, again?"

"Umm." She purred like a cat, stretched and rolled onto her side facing me again; her head resting on my shoulder, my arm around her. She reached across left handed to my erection and began stroking me again. "Again, and again, and again." She said nothing more for a few moments as she slowly stroked me, watching my cock and her hand intently as she did.

"Did you like titty fucking her?"

"It was nice," I admitted.

"I watched."

"Uh, huh. I figured you might have. I watched as you sucked Steve's cock."

"Really?" A hint of surprise behind the question.

"Yeah, really. Why?" Questioning my honesty during pillow talk somehow didn't seem like her.

She didn't say anything for a moment. "I wanted you to watch... I was feeling so slutty; I wanted you to see me suck him..."

"I did. I saw you slip him into your mouth, like it was slow motion; the way your lips slid over the head, and then when it came out it was all shiny from your mouth...oohh." It was my turn to moan, her stroking was bringing me to a peak, but she never stopped, never sped up, just kept her slow rhythmical stroking. "I think... I think it was one of the most erotic things I've ever seen."

"Good." It was almost a whisper. Neither of us said anything for a while as she continued to stroke me. Nothing fancy, nothing outrageous, just an old fashioned hand job for her lover. I found myself repeating her motions of minutes before, trying to raise myself into her grasp, to increase the speed of her stroking, but she obstinately resisted, just maintaining that maddeningly slow pace.

"Do you want to come in my mouth?"

'Uhn, no..." I gasped, barely able to grunt it out.

"I'll let you. I didn't let him."

I gripped the bed with my right hand, my left hand unconsciously gripping her side. I wanted to finish myself, to cum, but no matter how I raised my hips, how I tried she kept that tantalizing slow pace.

"Are you ready to cum for me, baby? Hmmm?" The pounding in my ears was deafening, my visibility constricted to a narrow tunnel as all the blood in my body flowed to her hand. I didn't have to do my cross legged trick; she just kept at me slow enough that I got there naturally. Finally I erupted, but still she didn't stop her stroking. "That's it baby. Cum for me... Ummm... Cum for me."

Her stroking continued for several moments even after my cock had quit twitching. When she did stop, she continued to hold me, her thumb rubbing the last dribbles of cum over the top of my now ultra sensitive cock head, eliciting a groan from me. I wanted to reach down and grab her hand, but managed to stop.

"Too much." She stopped, just holding my rapidly softening prick.

"I think women have an advantage over men," she said quietly, almost sounding like she was talking to herself. "We don't have to wait so long to be ready to do it again." She leaned down, sucking the head of my cock into her mouth, causing my hips to try and bury themselves in the bed, trying to pull away from her mouth and tongue.

"Too much, Honey. Just wait." My hand found the top of her head; she reluctantly pulled away.

"He's a lot more fun when he's big and hard."

I didn't say anything, she just lay next to me, her hand continuing to hold and squeeze my now soft and rubbery dick. "I can't believe how small he gets." With her constant handling, I hadn't gotten really small, but I wasn't going to confess that.

We lay there for several minutes; I'd nearly fallen asleep.

"I wonder," she began, pausing before explaining what she wondered. "If Mary went down on me, and then I went down on her, and then she did me again -- could we do it all day, again and again? Or would we get worn out and have to stop?"

I didn't answer, it wasn't really a question. She quit playing with my cock, sliding up more, resting her head on my shoulder. She took her fingers and began playing in the puddle of semen on my belly; I wrapped my arm around her back.

"If you could get hard right and stay hard forever, I'll bet I could come again and again and again and just keep coming all day long. Ummm. That would be fun."

"I think I've created a monster. An insatiable monster," I whispered, just watching her fingerpainting my lower belly.

"Maybe I could get you to fuck me, and then Mary could tongue me while you rest, and then have Steve do me while Mary sucks you hard again and then you can fuck me again, and so on? How many orgasms in a row could I have?"

"I think you should just clone me, like that sheep? Then you could have me every day of the week and I'd never get worn out."

"Hey, now that's an idea. Didn't they have a song about you?"

"Huh?" I didn't follow that at all.

"You know: '76 Big Jims in the Big Parade, A hundred and ten orgasms to be had...'" She said this singing to the theme tune of The Music Man, which I recognized immediately although I hadn't heard it in years. We both laughed.

"Probably easier to just line up a bunch of studs and we'll let them fuck you one after another." She didn't say anything for a moment, then rolled onto her back, spreading her legs and arms.

"I'm ready. Get 'em and let's go. I'm ready."

"You're always ready, you insatiable slut." She giggled, rolled back over and cuddled up to me again.

"I wonder if anyone has ever really done something like that."

"What's that? A gangbang?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"Yes. Of course it's happened. If you can imagine it, I imagine it's happened."

"Really?" I'd already answered, I said nothing.

"Would you have fucked Mary if she'd wanted?" Oops, I thought, tricky question here. I couldn't detect the meaning behind the question, I wondered if jealousy was going to show up. I thought for a moment.

"Would you have minded if I did?"

Several moments passed. "I don't know."

"How about you, would you fuck Steve?" Again several silent moments passed before she answered.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that," and then after a slight pause, "Certainly not without a condom."

Interesting answer, I thought. She'd been afraid of sharing her body with another man before last night -- but now was admitting that just maybe that was possible too.

"Did you like playing with them?"

"Um hm." Still a touch of mixed feelings in that answer.

"What did you like?"

"Mary. When she went down on me. I knew I wanted that."

"How about Steve. Did you like sucking him?"

"Some. I think he wanted to cum in my mouth, but I didn't want him to. I liked sucking him, but couldn't do that. How about you?" Each question and answer came further apart as we were both falling back asleep.

"Yeah, it was fun. I like watching others. I liked watching you and Mary. I liked watching you have a good time. It turns me on."

"Me too." Her answer was barely audible.


I awoke again, not too much later. The pile of semen on my belly was crusty; Gloria's loving hand once again holding my now limp cock, her naked body draped against mine, one leg on top of mine. Her steady breathing told me she was sound asleep. I think I woke her when I turned and looked over at the clock. Almost ten.

It doesn't take long to get ready to go out when you don't put on any clothes. We both showered, and in half an hour we were ready -- stark naked and for the moment, sated.


"What, no golf today?" I asked as we came up on Steve and Mary, finding them both out by the pool.

"Nah, I passed on it this time. SOMEBODY made me stay up almost all night."

"And besides SOMEBODY promised a plane ride this morning," Mary chimed in.

"Oh shit." I glanced at my watch. "I completely forgot. Let's get going before it gets any later."

"Are we in a hurry?" Gloria asked, sounding somewhat alarmed. I immediately regretted my reaction; it's never a good thing to alarm your passengers before they've even gotten into the plane.

"It's just that it's cooler and smoother in the morning. Afternoons can get really bumpy; flying is just nicer in the morning."

"Well then -- we're ready if you are! Let's go get a bite to eat and hit the..." Steve stopped in mid sentence and looked puzzled. "Huh. I was going to say 'hit the road', but I guess that doesn't fit. What do you say, hit the airport? Hit the skies?"

"Good enough," I answered. "Are you really hungry right now? We could fly somewhere and have a late breakfast or lunch.

"Really? We can do that?" I confirmed that we could, and we discussed the possibilities. When I suggested we could go cruise along the mountains and even head south towards San Diego, Gloria suggested we could show them the house. When I told them we could do that and I'd make lunch, they were all for it.


I checked in at the counter, they called the line boy to come get us with the line cart. There was a small parking fee, but when I told them we'd be back they left my bill open. The driver showed up just minutes later with a 6 passenger golf cart to take us down to the plane. We could have walked the hundred yards faster, but it was part of the impression of opulent luxury to be "driven" to "my" plane.

"I don't see any 757's out here." The line boy apparently heard her, I caught his sideways glance at me, but he didn't say anything. Gloria's tone indicated that she thought I'd swindled them, but there was still that touch of nagging doubt. When I'd headed away from the commercial side as we pulled up to the airport, I'd just told them that private airplanes were on the other side. Now, as we passed three lines of small single and twin engine planes, they were all beginning to wonder.

"Here you go sir." He'd pulled up behind the wing of my Turbo Retractable Cessna 182, with the large numbers "N 757 JB" painted on the side.

"THIS is a 757? I thought 757's were big, like airliners..." Mary was interrupted by Steve's laughter, he'd finally put it all together.

With a hand wave toward the plane I said, "Ladies, my 757 even has my initials on it. You, uh, you didn't think I had a Boeing 757 did you? I mean they take a couple of pilots and so much fuel you'd go bankrupt just trying to fill one up..." I explained that aircraft registration numbers were often assigned in blocks to companies and that both 757xx and 747xx had been early 1980's Cessna registration numbers. It made for good jokes, but no matter what the call sign, the plane was still just a four seater.

They eventually forgave me my little "lie."

I don't know why I thought this might just be a fun time in the sky, I should have known better. Although the thought was that our new friends were interested in joining the mile high club, the magic of aviation soon stole the show -- at least in the beginning.

I did my preflight inspection, with three onlookers trailing along watching what I was doing. I explained that I was looking for anything that had changed or was no longer safe since I'd last flown, confirmed how much fuel was on board, and then got everyone inside. The inevitable questions about what the second control wheel was for and the acknowledgement that whoever was sitting there could actually "steer" and my question of whether they'd like to try or not got some wide eyed smiles and acknowledgements. Mary was a little uncomfortable, and when Gloria volunteered to let Steve ride shotgun he didn't hesitate. Rear passengers were in first, then Steve and I got up front. I showed them the intercom and headsets and did the safety briefing, going through the same ritual as an airline flight attendant would.

I've always felt that passengers were much more comfortable if they had a clue what is going on, so I tried to explain everything I was doing and told them why. I explained what the communications with the ground controllers meant, who I was talking to at different times and why. When we heard "Seven Juliet Bravo, Cleared for take off, maintain runway heading below one three hundred, inbound 737 will be crossing ahead of you," I had Steve follow through with me on the controls until we lifted off.

"Just keep it like this" I said as I pulled my hands off the controls (carefully keeping them fairly close), "It's your airplane, you've got the controls."

Like most novices he wanted to over control, but I only had to grab the wheel once as he rapidly settled down and did a creditable job. Moments later a 737 passed across our path about a mile ahead. Shortly after we were told to change the radio to departure control and we headed almost straight north toward Big Bear. We skirted the edge of the mountain, climbing through 11 thousand feet before cresting the ridge and immediately began the short descent to the airfield on the other side. Ahead lay another, slightly lower, ridge of mountains before the terrain dropped once again to the naked white Mojave desert beyond. Big Bear valley with its namesake Lake spread out before us, a cool alpine retreat mere miles from downtown Los Angeles. I had Steve follow my directions until we were on final, where I once again took over and landed the plane. I figured maybe everyone would be ready for lunch, but it turned out they were more interested in flying more.

Mary swapped seats with Steve and we headed back south. A forested mountain, Mt. San Gorgonio, prevented us from heading directly from the airport toward our destination. Its naked granite top was another several thousand feet above us, a crevasse glistening white with the remainder of last years left over snow on its northern face. Taking off to the west, we detoured a few miles across Big Bear Lake, the mountain valley behind dropping away rapidly once we crossed the dam. Ahead the Los Angeles basin, crisscrossed with freeways and checker boarded with cities, stretched out to the Pacific Ocean over 50 miles away. The ocean glistened in the distance, a featureless silver mirror in the afternoon sun. Once we crossed the dam, in just a few seconds' time we transitioned from a thousand feet above the lake to nearly eight thousand feet above the valley ahead.

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