Before I knew it, I had lifted her in my arms and we stumbled to my room, bumping into walls and tables, but our lips remained locked. She clung to me tightly, her legs wrapped around my hips. We landed on the bed and she flipped us so she was on top. She made quick work of my boxers and soon my dick was standing erect in all its 6 inch glory. Precum coated the tip and it quivered in anticipation for what would surely happen next.

She climbed off me and I raised myself on my elbows, looking at her in confusion. My eyes widened and my jaw slackened when she did a short strip tease for me. After making a show of taking off her underwear, she climbed sensuously on top of me, grinding against me teasingly.

I couldn't handle it anymore. I grabbed her hips so tight that I was sure I left a bruise, and flipped us over. Seeing the crazed look in my eyes, she just had time to grab a condom and hastily put it on before I plunged in her.

She raked her nails over my back painfully and I resisted the urge to moan. Instead, I buried my face in her neck, trailing my tongue over the sensitive flesh. Momentarily, she moved against me and I pulled out of her only to thrust deeper in. She groaned loudly as we set off a brisk pace with her yells ordering me to go faster, harder, deeper. I didn't last very long and burst inside of her.

I pulled out of her small, tight, wet core, collapsing beside her and panting heavily. Almost in no time at all, she got up and took a quick shower, rinsing off the sweat, saliva and semen. Once clothed, she walked past me as if nothing happened, calm and collected as ever. Coolly, she went on with her life pretending nothing out of the ordinary occurred between us. For the next two weeks I'd be reliving that night in utmost clarity when I lie in bed, unable to sleep.

I've admitted to myself that it was nothing but a one night stand, but that doesn't stop the dreams from haunting me. Now, with her hand on my knee, I can't help but remember that night vividly. I bite my lip until I draw blood, tasting the familiar metallic saltiness fill my mouth. The hand retracts as she fishes in her messenger bag for her phone, which is buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. Her fingers zoom across the keypad in lightning fast speed in reply to the text message. I have a pretty good gut feeling that she's texting the steward from earlier, and I can't help feeling that all too familiar ache blossoming in my chest.