5,280 feet
5,280 feet - Dianna/Darren RPF; Adult
She giggles quietly, and then tells him to shush in the same breath, and he gives her a look.
"I'm not the one giggling," he hisses.
She grins and swats his shoulder, and he leans forward to kiss her, half pushing and half lifting her onto the tiny sink.
There's a list of things they shouldn't be doing, and having sex in an airplane bathroom is probably at the top of it, but the temptation was too much to resist.
He pushes her skirt up and hooks his fingers over the sides of her panties, quickly tugging them down.
She bites down on her lip as he works the fastenings of his jeans, and with a bit more maneuvering, he slides into her.
They both sigh at the sensation, and then he's moving, quick, deep strokes, trying to make these next few minutes worth the effort.
One arm circles his neck and her other hand braces on the wall, tiny whispers escaping her in intermittent puffs of air, "So good, Darren, so - so good."
There are rumors flying fast, wondering if they're dating. They are, and they aren't. This has somehow turned into some kind of friends with benefits thing, and they both find this oddly suitable for them. Maybe one day the relationship will come, the love and the actual dating and all that comes with it, but for now, they're happy as friends, spending time together, and if they have sex during that time, well, so be it.
He leans forward to press a kiss to her neck, his fingers digging into her thighs, and she shifts a little, taking him deeper.
Her mouth falls open slightly, and her arm slides from his neck to drop down between them, frantically rubbing against her clit, needing to come.
When she finally does, she has to lean forward and muffle the sound against his shoulder, her mouth open against his t-shirt. He comes too when she bites down gently, and groans into her neck, pressing against her as they wait to come down.
She giggles again when he pulls away, looking utterly beautiful with that slight flush to her cheeks, and the shine in her eyes. That tug in his heart comes back, that desire to make this more than what it is, and he wonders if he'll ever get up the nerve to properly ask her.
It takes some clever shifting around, but they finally put themselves back together, and she leaves first, because she was next to the window.
He flops down in his seat when he returns, reaching for his bottle of water.
He glances at her after he takes a sip. "Do you think if we got shirts that said '5,280 feet' on them, people would get the reference?"
She laughs so hard she snorts.
She giggles quietly, and then tells him to shush in the same breath, and he gives her a look.
"I'm not the one giggling," he hisses.
She grins and swats his shoulder, and he leans forward to kiss her, half pushing and half lifting her onto the tiny sink.
There's a list of things they shouldn't be doing, and having sex in an airplane bathroom is probably at the top of it, but the temptation was too much to resist.
He pushes her skirt up and hooks his fingers over the sides of her panties, quickly tugging them down.
She bites down on her lip as he works the fastenings of his jeans, and with a bit more maneuvering, he slides into her.
They both sigh at the sensation, and then he's moving, quick, deep strokes, trying to make these next few minutes worth the effort.
One arm circles his neck and her other hand braces on the wall, tiny whispers escaping her in intermittent puffs of air, "So good, Darren, so - so good."
There are rumors flying fast, wondering if they're dating. They are, and they aren't. This has somehow turned into some kind of friends with benefits thing, and they both find this oddly suitable for them. Maybe one day the relationship will come, the love and the actual dating and all that comes with it, but for now, they're happy as friends, spending time together, and if they have sex during that time, well, so be it.
He leans forward to press a kiss to her neck, his fingers digging into her thighs, and she shifts a little, taking him deeper.
Her mouth falls open slightly, and her arm slides from his neck to drop down between them, frantically rubbing against her clit, needing to come.
When she finally does, she has to lean forward and muffle the sound against his shoulder, her mouth open against his t-shirt. He comes too when she bites down gently, and groans into her neck, pressing against her as they wait to come down.
She giggles again when he pulls away, looking utterly beautiful with that slight flush to her cheeks, and the shine in her eyes. That tug in his heart comes back, that desire to make this more than what it is, and he wonders if he'll ever get up the nerve to properly ask her.
It takes some clever shifting around, but they finally put themselves back together, and she leaves first, because she was next to the window.
He flops down in his seat when he returns, reaching for his bottle of water.
He glances at her after he takes a sip. "Do you think if we got shirts that said '5,280 feet' on them, people would get the reference?"
She laughs so hard she snorts.