Page 60 of Gross Misconduct

“No.”

“Are you afraid I’m going to accidentally turn on the plane?”

You’re turning me on, and I doubt that’s an accident.

Jack leans over the couch to strum the guitar on the floor. “You know Penelope is dating a hockey player? He plays for the Boston Smugglers. You ever wonder if they’ve had sex on this couch?”

Is there a button overhead I can press so that my heart stops racing at that question? Or one to eject me from the plane?

“Maybe Penelope’s been on her knees right here, giving him a grade-A hummer.”

“It’s not something that’s crossed my mind.” Although, at the moment, it’s all I can think about. Shoving Jack’s head into my lap, his lips stretching around my cock again.

Less than seven minutes. Less than seven minutes.

“Maybe some flight attendant comes in, gets on his knees, and they take turns sucking him off.” Jack leans back on the couch, opening his legs and imagining the scenario. He turns to me, flashing a dark smile that lets me know exactly what he’s doing. “That’d be kinda hot, right?”

He adjusts himself over his pants, his thickening cock surfacing through the fabric.

“You know that she doesn’t travel alone. She has a whole staff.”

“They can watch.” Jack rubs his length, then gives it a tug. At first, I hoped Jack talked a big game to make up for shortcomings, but I’ve seen with my own eye that his confidence is pure big dick energy.

My pulse quickens, throbbing wildly in my neck. I will my dick to stop stiffening, but it won’t listen. It is fully under the control of Jack.

“Or maybe her bodyguards secretly have sex on this couch. Big guys sucking each other off.” Jack’s eyes hold me in place. He glances down at my crotch, where my erection pokes against my jumpsuit. An aura of victory envelops him.

Less than six minutes. Less than six minutes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be prepping for your interview?”

“Probably.” Jack strokes himself over his pants.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” I tell him.

“Doing what?”

“Touching yourself.” My tongue is thick and heavy in my mouth, each word more unsteady than the last.

“You’re right. I should be touching you instead.” Jack reaches out and palms my dick, unleashing a Hoover Dam amount of lust through every synapse of my brain.

“Jack,” I hiss, but I don’t push him away. I get more lightheaded with each stroke of my cock. “This was supposed to be a one-time thing.”

“I know.” Jack looks up at me with those crystal blue eyes. “But I decided I want more.”

He leads me forward by my cock, and I sink to my knees. His erection sticks up in a conspicuous tent. I’ve never given head before. What if I fuck it up?

“Griffin, we only have five minutes. Get to work.” Jack undoes his belt and pulls his cock from his boxers. It’s thick and sticking straight up, fuzzy golden hairs around the base.

The first time I put on ice skates, I didn’t wobble or fall like other kids in my class. My coach noted how quickly I found my balance. I feel that same innate balance as I take Jack in my mouth, the clean taste of his cock mixed with the bitter hit of precome at the tip.

Out the window, the entire hangar is visible. The plane is high enough that nobody should be able to look in…I think.

Jack throws his head back and arches so his cock fills my mouth. I bob up and down, getting him nice and slicked up, his dick wet and hot against my tongue.

“Good, good,” Jack repeats. “Just like that.”

Considering I’m a newbie at this, I relish the praise more than I should. He lets out a loud moan packed with unrelenting desire. Just then, I remember that the aircraft door is still open. Anyone could hear if we don’t keep it down. Anyone could walk in.

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