For this week’s #WickedWednesday, the prompt issued by Rebel is ‘release‘. How could I ignore that one??! There are sooooo many places I could have taken this. But I decided to take it to the airport, and base it, in part, on a recurring dream, in part on a fantasy. I’ve stuck pretty much to the word count, but this one could have been much, much longer. Wetter. Harder. I’m going to talk more about dreams and fantasies in the coming weeks (no pun intended!), but for now…

Happy reading!

Ina x


It was starting to become excruciating. The clock in the corner of the arrivals board told me I’d been sitting here for almost three hours – that was four minutes longer than the last time I checked. I just couldn’t stay in that room, waiting any longer. I wriggled on my chair and smiled. The love egg was nestled nicely inside. He promised to let me know he’d landed in his own special way. But there was a while to wait yet.

I had no idea what would happen when he landed. I’d had butterflies from the moment I set foot on the train yesterday, and again, when I checked into the room. Now they felt like flapping pterodactyls. And it was why I’d drunk three cups of coffee and bought a muffin and a really odd sandwich with an indescribable filling, having totally forgotten breakfast at the hotel.

I looked at the board again. Arrival time, 12.55. I looked at the clock in the corner of the screen. Again. 10.06. I stifled a sigh, and another squiffy feeling in my stomach. And it was then that I felt the egg. Usually, it would begin gently and work up to leaving me squealing and writhing on the bed while we Facetimed and I watched him stroke himself until he’d come to my own orgasm. But this set fire to my insides. I struggled to sit still, to stay quiet. My mind shot in all directions. Did it mean he was here? Or that he’d not caught the plane at all? The feeling got stronger; I wanted to release my moan to the entire airport lounge.

Then it stopped. I sat there, frozen, waiting for it to start again. Nothing.

“Excuse me. Are you waiting for someone?”

The voice came from right behind my ear. The vibrator went off again and it was all I could do to hold myself to the chair. I recognised his voice. If I turned around, I would see his face for the very first time in person. I began to shake as I imagined him standing there, shirtless, pressing against my skin, as the vibrations increased. I was swelling, struggling to remain still. A moan escaped my lips, followed by a strangulated, “Yes, I am. Do you know if he’s here?”

“I get the feeling he’s gonna be coming very soon. But not before you.” His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered, “Stand up.”

I did as he asked, as the egg rumbled away inside me. His hands were on my shoulders, turning me around and moving me to the side of the chair. It took his finger to lift my chin and hold my face to his before I would believe that he was standing in front of me. My stomach crumpled and my pussy went into spasms as he cranked up the setting a little more and grinned.

“Early flight. I knew you’d be here, waiting. Impatient little thing.”

I didn’t know what to do now. I couldn’t speak; my pussy was ready to explode, there in the arrivals lounge. So I did the only thing I wanted to do. I pulled his face down to mine, and kissed him. Hard. His mouth responded to mine, exploring my lips, finding my tongue with the tip of his own. My arms wrapped around him as I felt the egg crank up to the level that always set me writhing, trembling, and wailing my agonising ecstasy into the ether. Only this time, he stopped kissing me, only to say, “I want to taste your release. Orgasm into my mouth. Kiss me while you come.”

I felt his arms completely encase me as I stood there, the endless bolts of lightning firing from my cunt into my belly and wrapping around me, immobilising my spine. If he’d let go, I’d have crashed to the floor. The force of my orgasm was pressing against him, and I could feel his cock, hard against me as I shook in his arms, my mouth held tight to his. I kept coming and coming, the kiss getting ever more powerful, until I lost all awareness of my surroundings, immersed in the feeling that he was creating inside me. As the crescendo fell away, the egg stopped and I uttered tiny moans into his lips. His kiss was soft, then, lingering, moving to my cheek. I responded with my lips against his neck, kissing and swirling my tongue over his skin. He moaned and pulled me tighter against his cock.

“At last.” His fingers of one hand roamed my back, slipping beneath my top, their slightest touch leaving my clit throbbing, as he cupped my face with the other. I felt the ‘ping’ before I realised what he’d done. Pulling myself from his mouth, I stared at him, biting my lip, my eyes full of mischief, reflected fully in his own. He drew my ear to his lips, hissing softly, “Please – please go to the bathroom and remove that. And the egg. May as well take off your panties, too.”

A rush of blood flooded my chest and made its way to my face. I nodded, ever so slightly, leaving him standing there with his suitcase. Trying to regulate my breath, I made it on shaky legs to the bathroom, thankful there seemed to be no one around. Once in the cubicle, I did as he asked, stuffing everything into my bag, desperate to get back out there to him. I’d waited too long for this. I didn’t want to be out of his sight for even a minute.

When I opened the door, I couldn’t hide my gasp. Couldn’t control the ache between my legs. There he stood, leant against the sink.

“What the – what are you doing in here?”

He grinned. “I couldn’t stay away from you. I wanted to hear every sound as you took the egg out of your pussy. It made me wet. See?” His cock was in his hand before I had chance to even look round and check the door. It was as luscious in real life as it had been on screen. Except now, I could touch it. And he could touch me with it.

A kind of guttural gurgle oozed from my throat as I pulled him by his shirt into the cubicle, case and all. It took him no time to pull up my top and latch himself to my nipple, sucking and licking. His tongue trailed between my breasts as I grabbed his hand and pushed it between my thighs. He got the message. Two fingers spread my folds and eased into my now sensitive flesh and I had to bite on his shirt to stop myself crying out. His mouth found mine and clamped down hard as my folds encased his hand with clenching muscles and musky, drenching arousal.

His expert oscillating motions drove me wild as I began to feel my orgasm build. Someone came in, did what they had to at the sink and went again. My face must have betrayed my agony at holding in every sound he’d heard so many times on screen or over the phone. He kept his mouth on mine until the interloper had left, then he smiled at me, his eyes filled with want, and with love.

I grasped at his cock, wanting desperately to make him feel as I was feeling at that moment. I wanted to feel his girth in my palm, feel the way he pulsated in my hand, feel his cum splash my skin.

But I came first. And I let him go as he thrust his fingers deep and my inner walls grasped him, just as my arms did with his neck as I buried my mouth hard into it to silence myself. I could feel my body quaking and throbbing against his, hear the rasp of my breath between my lips and his chest. Gently he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and holding my gaze as he sucked them clean. I was still gasping as he pressed my back and seated me on his suitcase.

He dropped to his knees and lifted my skirt, spreading my legs with his palms. I didn’t resist; I’m not sure that I could have done. It was sweet agony to feel his tongue rolling over my clit and teasing my folds. I closed my eyes and let his mouth finish what he’d started with his fingers and take me to oblivion. I cried out, there, on his suitcase, in the airport toilets. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

His mouth came on up out of my skirt and we both stifled a laugh, knowing full well how lucky – and thankful – we’d been than no one else in the airport seemed to need to come in the Ladies to pee right now. I kissed him on the nose and rested my cheek against his. My whisper came out in little gasps. “Hi there, lover mine. You finally came.”

He whispered back. “No, darling. That’s what you just did. My release is yet to come.”

I virtually dragged him out of the airport lounge to show him the room I’d booked. I’m not sure he had a clue what it looked like until half way through the following day.

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8 Replies to “Waiting for him to come (18+)”

    1. Thank you! I nearly didn’t put them into a cubicle and left them near the sinks. Maybe that’s another story… 😉

    1. Thank you so much! I’m glad it had the desired effect! I have to admit, I enjoyed writing this. 🙂

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