One Long Flight

Murray felt Serena switch from passive to active cocksucking, and he closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

"She's a screamer," Holt said, "but she knows her way around a pecker. That's for damn sure."

Murray generally disdained Holt, but he couldn't help but agree with him on this point. His large member had precluded him from getting many satisfying blowjobs in his life, but this was excellent. He savored the pure pleasure.

Meanwhile, Holt was working toward his own conclusion. His breath was shooting out in sharp jabs and his groin was starting to swirl with his building orgasm. Whatever he had been holding back, he let loose now in a fury of pounding. Serena started moaning again as the final onslaught began, but Murray grabbed the back of her head and forced himself somehow deeper into her mouth to keep her quiet.

Serena felt Holt flex inside her, and then a thick blast of warmth filled her womb. She heard Holt suck in raspy lungfuls of air as he pounded his way through his orgasm. More and more cum filled her, filling her to capacity, and she felt the warmth travel down toward her opening. A moment later she felt the telltale slow, sticky trickle down the inside of her thigh.

Holt's relentless pace slowed and eventually stopped, but he left his fat log embedded deep inside her. With Murray still several inches into her throat, Serena felt an intense fullness, that, thoroughly spent though she was, provided the spark for one final climax of her own. She ground her pussy against the arm of the chair below her, and it didn't take long before she was convulsing in ecstasy.

With his balls still full, Murray was the odd man out, a circumstance he intended to correct posthaste. Serena bobbed on his cock as best she could -- it really was an immense piece of meat -- and Murray stroked her hair almost dotingly as he rocked his hips in time. Serena worked one hand up under his balls, and the sensation was enough to push him over the edge.

Serena didn't normally love swallowing cum, but she was too far gone to care now. She tried to gulp fast enough to keep up with Murray's avid spouting, coughing only a few times. Finally, all was still and quiet in the cockpit.

As if in long-agreed-upon ritual, the men unsheathed their cocks at the exact same moment, and Serena fell limp. She heard the rustle of clothes and the clink of belt buckles as they got dressed. Summoning her strength, she rose to her feet. She held one hand against her pussy to hold back the flood she knew was forthcoming.

"Could one of you gentlemen," she cleared her throat, "possibly hand me a tissue?"

Murray passed her a stack of napkins from the counter beside him. He watched her with a curious look on her face as she used six or seven napkins to clean up the mess.

"Young lady, I'm never flying without you on my crew again." She looked at him and they both laughed.

She had barely gotten her breath back -- not to mention smoothed her outfit, wiped her face and fixed her hair -- when Holt slapped her ass and guided her toward the door.

"Alright, clear out missy," he said. "We've got a plane to fly."

"Fuck you," she said, but she was smiling.