Chapter 83: Mid flight
Olivia’s breaths were still coming in soft, fluttering gasps, the echoes of her climax humming through her like a fading chord. Ethan remained motionless inside her, a solid, grounding presence amidst the pleasant tremors. The phone lay face-up on the plush carpet where it had slipped from her slack fingers, the screen still showing Eleanor’s expectant, amused face.
“Beautiful indeed,” Eleanor’s voice came, slightly muffled but clear. “But it seems you’ve dropped me, darling. Pick me up. I’m not done watching my favorite show.”
A lazy, sated smile spread across Olivia’s lips. She reached down, her movements languid, and retrieved the phone. Holding it up, she saw her own reflection for a second—face flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with satisfaction, the now-drying streaks of Ethan’s earlier release still painting her cheeks and chin. She loved that sight. She angled the phone to capture both her son’s face and her own.
“Sorry, Mother,” Olivia purred, her voice hoarse. “Got a little distracted.”
“I could tell.” Eleanor’s gaze was sharp, appreciative. “Ethan, you’re still hard as a rock, aren’t you? Even after she came all over your cock.”
Ethan’s hands drifted from Olivia’s hips to gently rub her lower back. “Yes, Grandma. I’m fine.”
“Of course you are,” Eleanor chuckled. “Built like a damn stallion, just like your grandfather. Olivia, are you just going to sit there on his dick like a glorified paperweight, or are you going to give him his reward? A good son deserves to be rewarded for his patience.”
Olivia bit her lower lip, a spark of renewed mischief in her eyes. She knew what her mother meant. She wriggled her hips, feeling him shift inside her, the friction drawing a soft hiss from Ethan. “What did you have in mind, Mother?”
“Turn around,” Eleanor commanded, her tone leaving no room for debate. “Let him see your pretty face while he fucks that gorgeous ass. And let him finish where he should. All over it.”
Olivia’s pulse, which had begun to steady, quickened again. She loved the filthiness of her mother’s words, the casual command. It was permission, it was encouragement, it was family bonding of the most twisted and wonderful kind. She looked over her shoulder at Ethan. “You heard her, son. Help your mother turn around.”
With careful, tender coordination, Ethan lifted her slightly, his cock slipping free with a soft, wet pop that was obscenely loud in the quiet cabin. Olivia groaned at the sudden emptiness, feeling stretched and used in the best way. On her hands and knees, she pivoted slowly on the soft rug, the rich pile tickling her skin. She settled back onto her heels, facing him now. His cock stood proudly between them, glistening with her own slick and his pre-cum, thick and veined and impossibly inviting.
The sight of it, inches from her face, sent a fresh jolt of pure desire straight to her core. She leaned forward, her lips parting, but Ethan placed a gentle hand under her chin, stopping her.
“Uh-uh,” he murmured, his eyes soft but firm. “Grandma’s orders first. Then you can have your treat.”
Olivia pouted, a deliberate, exaggerated expression. “But, baby…”
Ethan’s thumb stroked her cheek, smearing a trace of his dried seed. “Face first, Mum. Then mouth.”
He shifted his weight, sitting back more fully against the base of the plush armchair. He guided her, his hands on her shoulders, until she was straddling his thighs, her knees on the carpet, her torso leaning towards him. He took his phone from her slack grip and propped it against a vase on a nearby console table, ensuring Eleanor had a perfect, unobstructed view.
“There we are,” Eleanor said approvingly. “Now that’s a tableau. My beautiful daughter, on her knees, waiting for her son to mark her. Proceed.”
Ethan’s hands slid down to Olivia’s waist, then lower, gripping the full, supple curves of her ass. He pulled her forward slightly, aligning himself. The blunt, swollen head of his cock pressed against her parted lips. Olivia’s tongue darted out, tasting the salty-sweet pre-cum, laving the broad tip. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and submissive, a silent plea and a promise.
“Go on, Mum,” Ethan whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Open up. Show Grandma how much you love it.”
Olivia obeyed, her jaw relaxing, her mouth opening wide. He didn’t thrust. He guided himself forward slowly, pushing past her lips, over her tongue. He watched, mesmerized, as her lips stretched to accommodate his girth. She took him deeper, her nose pressing into his skin, her eyes watering slightly. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, a low, contented moan vibrating around him.
“Look at that,” Eleanor breathed from the phone. “Look at her take it. All the way, Olivia. Show me you can take it all.”
Ethan felt the back of her throat relax, yielding. He pushed forward gently, steadily, until the entire length was sheathed in the wet, welcoming heat of her mouth, his pelvis flush with her lips. Olivia’s fingers dug into his thighs, her nails biting into the fabric of his trousers. Her throat worked around him, swallowing reflexively, her eyes clenched shut in a mix of effort and ecstasy.
He held there for a long moment, letting her adjust, letting her feel the full, stretching invasion. He could see the outline of his cock in the slim column of her throat. It was the most profoundly intimate and dominantly erotic sight he knew. He withdrew slowly, dragging his length along her tongue until just the tip remained between her lips.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, stroking her hair.
Olivia coughed softly, catching her breath, a string of saliva connecting her lower lip to his glistening crown. “I love it, Ethan,” she rasped. “I love your cock in my mouth. It’s my favorite place for it, besides my ass.”
“Tell Grandma,” Ethan urged, his thumbs rubbing circles on her temples.
Olivia turned her head slightly, her gaze finding the phone’s camera. Her voice was wrecked, slurred with arousal. “It’s so big, Mother. He fills me up so completely. I can feel it in my throat, pressing down. It’s like he’s claiming every part of me.” She turned back, opening her mouth again in silent invitation.
This time, Ethan set a rhythm. Slow, deep, relentless. He fed his cock into her mouth, watching it disappear, then pulled back. Each stroke was a deliberate act of possession. Olivia’s hands moved from his thighs to his belt, then to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling them open to press her palms against the hard planes of his chest. She met his movements, bobbing her head, taking him deeper with each pass, her throat relaxing into a practiced, willing surrender. The sounds were obscene and beautiful: the wet slap of flesh, her choked, guttural swallows, his low, ragged groans.
The jet thrummed around them, a cocoon of luxury and isolation. The city lights below were a distant galaxy, irrelevant. There was only this: the heat of his skin under her hands, the musky scent of him, the taste of him coating her tongue, the overwhelming fullness in her mouth and the radiating ache of pleasure in her jaw.
“She’s a natural, Ethan,” Eleanor commented, her voice a husky drawl. “Always has been. Even as a teenager, she’d practice on… well, never mind. The point is, she knows how to use that mouth. Don’t stop on my account. Let me see it. Let me see my grandson use his mother’s face.”
Ethan’s pace increased. The slow, deep feeds became sharper, more urgent thrusts. His grip in her hair tightened, not to hurt, but to guide, to control the pace. Olivia’s moans were constant now, muffled around his girth, a continuous, slutty soundtrack to their act. Her eyes streamed tears that cut clean tracks through the dried cum on her cheeks. Spittle mixed with pre-cum slicked her chin and dripped onto her bare chest, joining the earlier mess that coated her breasts.
He was close. He could feel the pressure coiling at the base of his spine, a familiar, undeniable tide. His balls drew up tight.
“Mum,” he gasped, his rhythm faltering. “I’m gonna… Grandma wants to see.”
Olivia’s eyes flew open, meeting his. They held a fierce, eager light. She pulled back until just the swollen head rested on her tongue. She nodded, her gaze locked on his, her tongue flicking against his slit.
That was all it took.
With a deep, guttural groan that seemed to rise from the very core of him, Ethan came.
The first pulse was a powerful, hot rush that hit the back of her throat. Olivia swallowed instinctively, her throat working hard. The second was stronger, a voluminous flood that filled her mouth, the taste rich and earthy and uniquely his. She couldn’t swallow fast enough. It spilled from the corners of her lips, thick and pearly white.
“That’s it,” Eleanor urged, her voice tight with vicarious excitement. “All over her, Ethan. Don’t let her swallow it all. Mark her.”
Ethan pulled back completely, his cock springing free. The orgasm was still ripping through him, a seemingly endless torrent. Ropes of semen, thick and copious, arced through the air, landing across Olivia’s face with soft, wet splats. One landed on her forehead, sliding down into her eyebrow. Another painted her cheekbone. A third, the thickest, striped her nose and upper lip.
Olivia kept her mouth open, her tongue out, catching the last few spurts directly on her tongue and across her chin. She panted, her breath coming in ragged hitches, her face a glorious, debauched canvas of his release. She looked utterly ruined and incandescently happy.
Ethan’s body sagged as the final shudders passed through him. He was spent, breathing heavily, watching his mother with a look of awed, sated reverence. His cock, now softening slightly, glistened in the cabin light.
For a moment, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the steady hum of the jet.
“Magnificent,” Eleanor finally said, her voice filled with a quiet, profound satisfaction. “You look perfect, Olivia. Absolutely perfect. A true masterpiece.”
Olivia, her eyes still closed, smiled. She carefully, tenderly, ran her fingers through the mess on her face, gathering it on her fingertips. She brought them to her mouth and sucked them clean, a slow, deliberate motion. Then she looked at the phone, her face a mask of filth and devotion.
“Thank you, Mother,” she said, her voice a cracked whisper.
“Don’t thank me,” Eleanor said. “Thank your son. He’s the artist. You’re just the very lucky canvas.” She paused, taking a sip from a glass off-screen. “Now, be a dear and clean him up. And then clean yourself up a little. I want to talk to my handsome grandson while you do it.”
Olivia nodded. She reached for a nearby monogrammed linen towel, one of the impossibly soft ones stocked in the jet’s lavatory. First, she gently wiped Ethan’s cock, cleaning him with a tender, almost worshipful care. He watched her, his hand stroking her hair. She then dabbed at her own face, but only enough to clear her eyes and mouth. She left the majority of the cum smeared across her skin, a deliberate badge of honor.
She rose, her legs slightly shaky, and fetched a bottle of water and a fresh towel. She handed Ethan the water and then curled herself beside him on the spacious seat, her head on his shoulder, her body molded against his side. She kept the soiled towel in her lap, a testament to what had just transpired.
Ethan took a long drink, his arm wrapping around Olivia’s bare shoulders. He looked at the phone, at his grandmother’s serene, pleased expression. “So, Grandma,” he said, his voice returning to its normal, easy cadence. “What did you think of the in-flight entertainment?”
Eleanor laughed, a rich, genuine sound. “Five stars, my boy. Absolutely five stars. The service was exemplary, and the view was unparalleled.” Her expression softened slightly. “But truly, it’s good to see you both so… happy. So connected.”
“We are,” Olivia murmured, nuzzling into Ethan’s neck. “In every way possible.”
“I can see that.” Eleanor took another sip. “Now, about this London trip. Tell me about the hotel. Is it secure? Private?”
Ethan nodded, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Olivia’s arm. “The Connaught. Penthouse suite. Separate entrance, private elevator. The whole works. We won’t be disturbed.”
“Good. And the schedule? This Armani event?”
Olivia answered, her voice still a little rough. “It’s a launch gala tomorrow night. Fittings all day beforehand. It’ll be a long day, but the after-party should be… fun.” She tilted her head up to look at Ethan, a wicked glint in her eye. “We have plans for the after-party, don’t we, baby?”
Ethan smiled, dropping a kiss onto her cum-streaked forehead. “We do. A very private celebration.”
“I’m sure.” Eleanor leaned closer to her camera, her face filling the screen slightly. “Ethan, I meant what I said earlier. I’m thinking of visiting when you get back. A proper visit. None of this video call nonsense. I want to see you two in person. Cook for you. See the new house.”
“We’d love that, Grandma,” Ethan said sincerely. “The house has a great guest suite. Very private. Soundproofed, even.” He winked.
Eleanor snorted. “I should hope so, given the noises I just heard. But yes, I’d like that. I’ll let you two enjoy the rest of your flight. You must be exhausted.”
Olivia stretched languidly against Ethan. “In the best way possible.”
“I bet.” Eleanor’s gaze lingered on them, a complex mix of maternal pride and salacious enjoyment. “Olivia, don’t forget to hydrate. And for heaven’s sake, get some of that off your face before you order caviar from the steward.”
Olivia grinned, rubbing her cheek against Ethan’s shoulder like a cat, leaving a faint, sticky smear on his shirt. “Maybe later. I like the way it feels. It’s like… his scent. It’s comforting.”
“You’re hopeless.” Eleanor sighed, but her smile was fond. “Ethan, take care of your mother. And let her take care of you. I’ll call you after the gala tomorrow. I want all the details. The fashion and the other kind.”
“We will, Grandma. And we will,” Ethan promised.
“Goodbye, my darlings.” Eleanor blew a kiss and the screen went dark.
Silence descended, deeper now, more intimate. The phone screen faded to black. The only light came from the distant city below and the soft, ambient glow of the cabin’s indirect lighting. Olivia shifted, turning to face Ethan, her knees digging into the plush