I was on a plane home after studying abroad for a year of school.
I learned a lot in London ― all of it started on my first night there
when I lost my cherry to a 50-year-old businessman on his way home
from work.
But I figured that particular brand of fun was over ― at least until
I figured out how to get off as much as I did in England. I had been
cumming in the pany of a geous guy every day, at least once,
the eime I was there.
My flight looked someromising. There was one geous
Indian guy on the plane, in a fine suit with a stylin’ haircut. Great
package too. There were two hot black guys, but they were both up
front, o each other. So I said a silent goodbye to that opportunity
as I made my way to the back of the plane.
I sat o one of two smoking hot married guys. I was o the
oh his family. The other one was a few rows up, looking hot in
a goatee, nice pecs, and with a stern type of masity about him.
The guy I was o ― across the aisle from ― was o his son. His
wife and daughter were in front of them. The flight retty empty.
I had my row to myself. My part of the plane arse.
I stole a handful of looks at him. He was hot. About 40, dark hair,
brown eyes. He was tall at 6’4” and had a small stomach that rounded
over his belt. He was in slacks, a button down shirt and a sweater, which
is just how I like my older men ― preppy and professional looking.
I always had a thing for married dudes. And it’s hotter if their wives
are right there. I had some great times ioilets of the Liberty
department store ent Street getting my ass filled by the men
shopping with their families. It made me all the hotter knowing that
their wives were out iore shopping while I was taking their
cocks up my tight ass. And now I was going to make a play for this
guy across the aisle from me,