“We barely have two days, though,” I said.
“We’ll make it count.”
The flight would take a little over five hours so after we ate, we settled in together on what turned out to be an extremely comfortable love-seat. With my head on his chest, I fell asleep, and when I woke up I saw that three hours had passed. Max was asleep, and I tried not to wake him as I got up to use the restroom.
When I came out, he was awake.
“I thought you changed your mind about the trip and jumped out,” he joked, rubbing his eyes and stretching.
“Well, I couldn’t find the parachutes so I went into the bathroom and tried to flush myself down the toilet.”
He looked at me straight-faced, then broke out in a hearty laugh.
I sat down close to him, put my head on his shoulder, and my hand on his thigh. I looked down and saw that his jeans were bulging. He had woken up hard.
I moved my hand closer to it and let my fingers graze along the edge of his erection.
Max raised his hand to my chin, turned my face toward his, and kissed me. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, I moved my hand again, this time putting the palm of my hand over the length of the bulge.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.
“I bet you are. What would you do with this if I wasn’t?” I pressed on his cock.
“Same thing I always do when I’m horny and lonely.”
“You? Lonely? Doubtful.”
He tilted his head. “You make me sound like I’m easy.”
I laughed. “No, just not lonely.”
He kissed me again.
I felt a strange and unfamiliar rush of boldness and asked, “So how often do you…”
I wasn’t making eye contact with him. I was looking at my hand lightly rubbing up and down the length of his erection straining against his jeans.
“Masturbate?” he said, finishing my question for me.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“It’s okay. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. The answer is: not very often, at least now that I’m spending time with someone I can’t get enough of.”
“So…” I didn’t finish the sentence.
“Yes?”
“Nothing.”
Max put his finger under my chin again, turned my face toward his, and said, “You were going to say something or ask something, but you’re censoring yourself. You don’t have to be shy with me, you know that.”
I looked into his eyes. He was so serious, so open to me, almost begging me to finish what I was saying.
“I…I don’t know,” I said. “I just wondered…I mean, is it good when you do it yourself?”
I felt kind of stupid after I said it. It made me sound so naïve, so inexperienced, so unworldly or something.
“It can be,” he said. “It’s not as much fun when you’re alone.”
“Well, it’s not like you do that when you’re with someone.” I laughed at the idea.
Max didn’t.
I continued, “Right? I mean, what’s the point?”
As he looked at me a little smirk grew out of the corner of his mouth. “You should get rid of your boundaries.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your sexual boundaries.”
My mouth fell open. “Uh, excuse me, but I think you should know by now that I don’t have any boundaries.”
“None?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Well, almost.”
He laughed. “See? Boundaries. You have them. That’s a shame. You’re missing out.”
Without speaking, he straightened up in his seat, stood and took my hand. We went to the other side of the plane where two rows of seats faced each other. He stopped at one of the seats. I looked at him. He motioned toward it, still not speaking, but clearly urging me to sit down. I sat.
Max took a step back and lowered into the seat directly across from me. His face was a blank stare—no smiling, no grinning, nothing. But, as with other times when he was turned on, his eyes seemed to have endless depth as he stared back at me.
He leaned back in the seat and lifted his white t-shirt from the hem, showing off his flat, taut stomach. Then, with just the one hand, he started to unbuckle his belt.
I took a deep breath after realizing I’d been holding the air in my lungs.
Max got his belt unfastened, unbuttoned his jeans, and opened the front of his pants. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and in one fluid motion, he pushed the front down. His cock sprang free—as hard as I had ever seen it—and his balls appeared full, heavy, loaded for action.
Was I dreaming? I had to make sure I wasn’t. The thought of seeing him masturbate for me was making my mouth dry with nervous anticipation while I felt a tingle between my thighs.
Max’s hands were on the arms of the seat. His erection stood straight up.
My gaze drifted from his cock to his eyes.
“Hands free?” I joked.
For the first time in several minutes, Max smiled. He didn’t say anything, though. He just kept looking at me as my eyes fell once again to take in the view of his magnificent maleness.
When he put his hand on his erection, he used a light touch, stroking it up and down using just his fingertips.
It dawned on me for the first time in my life that since I had never seen a man masturbate, perhaps I didn’t fully know what they really liked and wanted. Not that it had ever stopped me from getting results in the past….
Max’s hand dipped down and he cupped his balls, rolling them in his hand. I watched with fascination as I realized he wasn’t as gentle as I was with them.
He then sat forward a little and took off his shirt, revealing what I had seen several times but still made my eyes glaze over, but not enough to miss out.
Max kicked off his shoes and socks, then wriggled out of his jeans and boxers. And there before me was the most gorgeous view I’d ever had—a naked Max. Now he was the one making himself vulnerable to me.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I was at a loss for words for a moment, and he let me gather my thoughts. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Watching a man jerk off?” His right hand grasped his cock and he slowly stroked near the head.
“Never.”
“Do you want to?”
Inside my head, I screamed: Hell yes! But luckily my filter was in perfect working condition and I gave him the more subdued: “I’d love to.”