I can’t help but wonder who Mat’s sitting next to on the plane. I picture a sweet and sexy young thing. And what will they say to each other?

I remember the time we flew to Puerto Rico so Mat could get his honor. Mat was so sweet to give me the window seat. He suffered being squeezed in the middle. Funny, I can’t remember who sat on the aisle. I know it wasn’t a sweet young thing. Probably an ordinary businessman.

We played hangman, and I hung Mat three times in a row. I remember one of the words was suffragette. I think I thought of that because we were on a jet. Finally I took it easy on him and gave him a word I knew he’d get. Clitoris. He almost didn’t get it. Sometimes I can give Mat a hardon just by whispering naughty words in his ear. He’s so easy. My clitoris loves Mat’s tongue. Mat’s cock loves my cunt. My needy greedy cunt, aching with emptiness.