Chapter 6: Voyage of Vice

The hum of the airplane engines faded into a distant memory as Alex stepped into the opulent hotel suite in downtown Chicago, the city lights twinkling like distant stars through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The business trip was a facade—a high-stakes client meeting tomorrow—but Victoria had made it clear this was her domain, an extension of her control far from the prying eyes of Kane Enterprises. She’d booked the penthouse, a sprawling space of marble floors, king-sized bed draped in silk sheets, and a private bar stocked with temptations. Alex’s suitcase hit the floor with a thud, his body already buzzing with anticipation. She’d been teasing him the entire flight: her nylon-clad foot slipping under the divider in first class, rubbing his thigh discreetly, edging him with subtle pressure until he was rock hard and squirming.

Victoria entered behind him, the door clicking shut with finality. She was a vision of travel-worn elegance—a fitted blazer over a silk camisole, pencil skirt hugging her hips, and those black nylons, sheer and seamless, ending in low heels that she’d kicked off immediately upon entry. Her hair was slightly tousled from the journey, giving her an air of approachable sensuality that belied the storm beneath. “Strip,” she commanded, her voice low and throaty, laced with the exhaustion of travel but ignited by desire. Alex obeyed, shedding his clothes in a frantic pile, his cock springing free, already throbbing from the airborne torment.

She approached slowly, pushing him back onto the bed with a single finger to his chest. The mattress dipped under her weight as she climbed on, straddling his torso reverse-style, her skirt riding up to reveal the garters holding her nylons taut. Her ass hovered above his face, the black fabric of the stockings framing her cheeks like a dark invitation, the faint scent of her arousal wafting down—musky, sweet, mixed with the airplane’s recycled air that clung to her skin. “You’ve been a good boy on the flight,” she murmured, grinding back teasingly, her nylon-covered ass brushing his nose. “Now, suffocate for me.”

Without warning, she lowered herself fully, her ass enveloping his face in a smothering embrace. The nylons were warm, slick with the day’s sweat, pressing against his mouth and nose like a silky barrier. Alex gasped, inhaling her essence through the fabric—the tangy musk of her pussy seeping through, her asshole twitching faintly above. She ground down harder, rocking her hips in slow, deliberate circles, using his face as her personal throne. The pressure built, air becoming scarce, his lungs burning as he struggled beneath her. His tongue darted out instinctively, licking the nylon over her cleft, tasting the faint saltiness that soaked through.