My Country Cuckold by White Lena

Author:White, Lena
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-30T00:00:00+00:00

~ ~ ~

Desmond and I are standing in the tiny terminal at the Iowa City Municipal Airport watching Lamont’s airplane taxi toward us. The plane does little to inspire confidence in me as I’m not the world’s worst passenger when it comes to flying but I’m easily in the top 100. I really wish we were driving.

“Come on,” Desmond says as he ushers me onto the tarmac.

“Doesn’t he need to refuel, or check the oil, or something?” I ask in a full-blown panic.

“It’s an hour's flight. We just hop in and go.”

Which we basically do, once I’m introduced, barely, to Desmond’s friend. Lamont is shorter than Desmond but stockier, about the same age, and just as dark. My pussy flutters as I shake his hand, and I wonder if I’ll ever get over touching a black man. I thought I’d put all that behind me, what with me fucking Desmond every day for the past week or more. I have no clue how to get over all this.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ashley,” Lamont says, although he seems a bit distracted by Desmond. They greet each other like long-lost friends, which I guess they are - they haven’t seen each other in years, according to Desmond.

“Let’s get going,” he says to us and we climb into his flying coffin before I can even protest that I’m not all that interested in seeing the Cubs play after all. But a few minutes later, after a smooth but still harrowing takeoff, we’re high over the countryside and the flight is smooth if noisy and I begin to relax, if only slightly. The cockpit, because the plane consists of little more than a cockpit, is not conducive to conversation, so I just watch the scenery, which is much more interesting from this altitude, while the two men banter loudly about things I can’t really hear. After an age but quicker than I expected, Chicago looms at the horizon.

We land without incident but not without nerve-wracking anxiety on my part, and I wonder if I’ll ever get better at this sort of thing.

“My car will pick us up as soon as I text them,” Lamont tells us when we climb out of the plane and I look at Desmond, impressed.

“He has a car?” I ask, then correct myself. “I mean, a car service?”

“He’s done real well for himself,” Desmond admits, and I can’t help but note a bit of competitiveness that surprises me. Although if I’m honest, what do I know about Desmond, really?

The car shows up a few minutes later and it is more limo than anything, not a stretch but really nice, with facing rear seats and a small bar. Lamont offers us a drink as the driver eases out of the Midway Airport toward downtown.

“We’ve got time for a steak if you two are hungry,” Lamont says, and it’s all I can do to not look too excited. My father loved Chicago steakhouses and we always stopped after a game to indulge, just me and him when I was young and he was still a part of my life.

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