Devon had bid his goodbyes to Sophie and Helena, their shy nods and lingering kisses still smoldering in his mind like a slow-burning fire as he stepped onto the private jet heading for Geneva.

The hospital, or more likely Yvonne had gone all out when it came to this trip. The jet was pure luxury, a flying paradise that screamed money and power. Soft cream leather seats hugged his body like a warm embrace, sinking under him just right, the leather cool and smooth against his back through his tight black shirt. Polished wood panels, dark and shiny like fresh coffee, caught the glow of soft lights tucked into the ceiling, casting a warm, golden vibe across the cabin.

The air smelled clean and fancy, a mix of lavender and cedarwood, light but rich, wrapping around him like a tease, making the whole place feel like a private hideaway at 40,000 feet. Over by the side, a sleek bar sparkled with crystal bottles of top-shelf booze, whiskey, gin, and vodka all lined up, with fresh lemon and lime slices sitting pretty next to chilled champagne glasses begging to be filled. Thick navy carpet, soft as a cloud, swallowed every step, quieting the world, while a high-tech screen and sound system hummed low, ready to play whatever he wanted, movies, music, or even some virtual escape.

Devon sprawled in one of the huge recliners, legs kicked out, one hand resting easy on his thigh, the other holding a glass of old scotch, the smoky, woody taste lingering on his tongue. He shut his eyes, a sly grin pulling at his lips, the jet's engines purred soft and steady, like a quiet song, lulling him into a rare moment of peace, the world below just a far-off blur, his body sinking deeper into the chair, the scotch warming his chest.

That peace got smashed to bits when a cold splash of water hit his pants, soaking right through the fancy gray fabric, chilling his skin like a slap. His eyes popped open, zeroing in on the culprit, a young flight attendant, frozen like she'd just broken something priceless, her face turning a deep, guilty red. She was a total knockout, maybe 24 or 25, pure temptation wrapped in a body that could stop hearts. Her face was cute but sexy, heart-shaped, with smooth olive skin that glowed like warm honey under the cabin's lights. Her hair, black as midnight, was pulled back tight into a neat bun, but one loose strand curled against her flushed cheek, like it was daring to mess up her perfect look. Her eyes, big and almond-shaped, were a deep green with gold flecks that sparkled like emeralds catching fire, wide with panic but so damn pretty they pulled you in. Her lips, full and juicy, shined with glossy coral lipstick, parted in a soft gasp, showing a peek of white teeth and a nervous tongue that darted out to wet them, making her look ready to be kissed or more.

Her uniform was straight-up sinful, designed to make you stare and want. A tight navy blazer hugged her slim waist, one button popped open to show a deep slice of cleavage, her big, round boobs pushing hard against a thin white blouse, so sheer you could see the lacy black bra underneath, the edges digging into her soft curves, her nipples just barely hinted at through the fabric, perky and begging for attention as her chest heaved with quick, shaky breaths.

The skirt was a tease, short and tight, barely covering her upper thighs, clinging to her curvy hips like it was painted on, showing every line of her ass when she moved. Her long legs, smooth and toned, were wrapped in sheer black stockings, a thin seam running up the back like a trail to trouble, ending in shiny black heels that made her legs look even longer, her walk a little sway that screamed sex without her trying.

Under the skirt, you could just catch a glimpse of lacy garters holding up those stockings, a flash of skin above them that made your pulse jump. The whole outfit played dirty, professional on paper but built to drive you wild, every inch of her screaming to be touched, her nervous shakes only making her hotter as she stood there, gripping an empty glass, water dripping from her fingers onto the carpet.

"Oh my God, sir, I'm so sorry!" she stammered, her voice a melodic lilt tinged with genuine panic, her emerald eyes darting from the spreading wet stain on his trousers to his face, then back again, as if assessing the damage she'd wrought.

Before he could utter a word, she dropped to her knees in front of him with surprising grace, her skirt hiking up further to reveal more of those smooth, olive thighs, the lace garters peeking out like a secret invitation, her hands fumbling with a white cloth napkin from her pocket as she began dabbing at the wet spot on his trousers, her movements frantic but surprisingly soft, her fingers brushing the fabric with a gentleness that belied her haste.

"I—I didn't mean to, it slipped from my hand, I'll clean it up right away, I swear," she babbled, her voice rising in pitch, her breath warm and erratic against his thigh as she leaned closer, her cleavage pressing against the armrest, the scent of her perfume. a light, floral jasmine with a hint of vanilla wafting up to him, mixing with the faint tang of spilled water.

Devon's body reacted before his mind fully caught up, a slow heat building in his body as her soft hands worked the napkin in circular motions over his thigh, inching perilously close to his groin, the pressure light but insistent, each stroke sending subtle jolts through him.

His lips curled into a slow, amused smirk, his eyes narrowing as he watched her, taking in the way her chignon loosened slightly with her movements, that rogue strand of hair falling further across her cheek, framing her flushed face. "It's okay," he said, "Accidents happen, there is no harm done."

But she shook her head vehemently, her tight chignon bobbing, determination flashing in those emerald eyes as she insisted, "No, no, sir, I need to fix this properly, it's my fault, and I won't let it ruin your flight." Her hands worked more deliberately now, the napkin rubbing against his trousers in slow, methodical circles, her fingers grazing his inner thigh with increasing boldness, her nails scraping ever so slightly through the fabric.

Devon's body betrayed him, his cock stirring beneath the damp material, a subtle twitch at first, a warmth spreading as blood rushed southward, the bulge in his trousers becoming more pronounced with each pass of her soft, persistent hands.

The sensation was maddening, her touch innocent in intent yet intimate in execution, her fingers lingering just a fraction too long on the inner seam, the pressure just enough to stoke the growing heat in his groin, his cock hardening slowly, the fabric tenting as it swelled to half-mast, then fuller, the outline becoming unmistakable.

She froze mid-motion, her hands stilling as her emerald eyes widened in shock, locking onto the growing tent in his trousers, her breath catching in a soft, audible gasp. The bulge was impossible to ignore now, his cock hardening fully under her gaze, the charcoal fabric stretching tight, outlining every thick inch, every ridge and vein pulsing visibly beneath, straining as it reached its full, impressive length, that made her lips part further, her cheeks flaming an even deeper crimson.

She glanced up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of shock, curiosity, and something deeper, more primal, before dropping back to his trousers, her hands trembling now, the napkin forgotten in her lap. "I… I'm so sorry," she whispered again, her voice barely audible, husky with embarrassment, her gaze lingering longer than necessary, betraying a flicker of intrigue amid the panic.

Devon leaned back further, his smirk widening into something more predatory, "You made the mess, sweetheart. Why don't you help me take these off? Seems only fair since you got them wet." Her mouth opened as if to protest, her full lips forming a perfect 'O' of hesitation, her voice catching in her throat, but she paused, her gaze flicking back to the bulge, the tent in his trousers now a bold, unignorable statement, the fabric strained to its limits, the outline of his cockhead visible, a small damp spot forming where pre-cum began to leak through.

She took a deep breath, her chest rising dramatically, her blouse straining against her breasts, the lace bra peeking further as her cleavage deepened, and moved closer, her knees shuffling on the plush carpet, her hands trembling as they reached for his belt.

The metal buckle clinked softly as she unfastened it, her fingers brushing his lower abdomen with featherlight touches that sent fresh surges of heat through him, his cock twitching visibly under the fabric, hardening even more, the bulge growing tauter, more insistent. She hesitated again, her fingers hovering over the zipper, her breath quickening, warm puffs against his thigh as she leaned in, her emerald eyes locked on the outline, mesmerized by the way it pulsed slightly with his heartbeat.

Slowly, she pulled the zipper down, the sound a soft, deliberate zip in the quiet cabin, her hands shaking as they grazed the fabric, brushing against the hard ridge of his cock through his trousers, each accidental touch sending jolts through him, his length swelling fuller, the veins becoming more pronounced under the strain.

Then, in a moment of carelessness, her hand slipped, her palm pressing directly against his erection, the heat and unyielding hardness startling her, her heart pounding so loud he could almost hear it over the jet's hum.

She gasped sharply, her hand jerking back as if burned, her eyes wide with shock, her cheeks flaming, "I—I didn't mean to!" she stammered, her voice high with embarrassment, but her gaze lingered, betraying a flicker of intrigue amid the panic, her fingers flexing as if remembering the feel of him and how it pulsed beneath her touch.

"It's fine," he said, his voice low and smooth, a dangerous edge creeping in now, his eyes darkening as he held her gaze. "But you're not done. Take them off." She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing visibly, her hands returning to the waistband with renewed determination, her fingers hooking into the fabric, tugging it down slowly, inch by tantalizing inch, over his hips, her breath catching as the trousers slid lower, revealing the taut planes of his abdomen, the defined V of his pelvis, the absence of underwear becoming apparent as the base of his cock came into view.

His cock sprang free as the trousers cleared his thighs, thick and heavy, fully erect and magnificent, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum that caught the light like a diamond, the veins pulsing along its impressive length, an imposing sight that made her freeze.

In an instant, her eyes widened in utter astonishment, her lips parting further, a soft, involuntary "Oh…wow…" slipping out, her voice breaking, face burning, hands hovering, body leaning in a bit, drawn to the raw heat in front of her, the pants at his ankles forgotten, the air electric with tension, her shock so intense it was like she'd seen something unreal, her heart racing, breath hitching, caught in the moment.

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