"This is so cool," I said with a giggle. "First class and everything!"

"Hey!" Robert grinned at me. "I told you, my parents are taking care of us, baby."

"Let's see..." A smiling flight attendant looked at my boarding pass. "You're in 3A, that's on the left. We'll be serving a champagne breakfast in the lounge shortly after take-off."

"Great!" I couldn't stop smiling as I looked around the cabin. This was the day after the best day of my life. "We're on our honeymoon."

"Really?" She nodded at that and then did a double-take as she realized I was talking about Robert and me. "You're married to him?"

"Yeah!" I narrowed my eyes and I knew why she looked shocked, but the woman wasn't paying attention to me anyway.

"Good morning, sir," she purred. "I'm Denise and I'll be servicing you all the way to Honolulu."

"Really?" My husband of less than 24 hours gave her a dazzling smile, and a slow, deliberate look up and down. "I'm looking forward to it, Denise."

"So am I," she sighed, batting her big brown eyes and drawing a deep breath. Her breasts, which were already formidable, seemed to grow right before our eyes.

"I should probably help my girlfriend find her seat," Robert said. "I mean, my wife. Sorry. We just got married yesterday."

"She's a very lucky girl," Denise said. "Would your wife like a sleeping pill?"

"Uhhh..." He chuckled and then caught the look on my face.

My husband escaped the flight attendant's evil clutches and sat down beside me in seat 3B, avoiding my eyes and looking through the complimentary first class fruit basket.

"Would you like a cherry?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"I've got one, remember?"

I couldn't stay angry for long. I mean, we were on our honeymoon! We had a seven hour flight to Hawaii and reservations for the Honeymoon Suite at the Turtle Bay Hilton, which doesn't sound all that appealing, but it sure looked nice on the internet. Six whole nights to ourselves in a tropical paradise and I was really looking forward to losing my virginity!

That sounds strange, I know, since Robert and I were legally married and we'd spent all night in the Valentine Suite, since the Marriott's Honeymoon Suite had been booked by someone else. Anyway, we should have consummated our wedding vows the night before, but we'd all gotten a little tipsy at the reception and my sisters, Jilly and Julie, had talked us into going skinny dipping. Except they forgot to tell me! By the time I found Robert and my twin siblings, they'd moved to the Jacuzzi because my four best friends had shown up. Since they were also my bridesmaids, they decided to strip out of their gowns and take turns sitting on the groom's lap and giving him long, deep congratulatory kisses.

Never mind. It's a long story. Suffice to say, my husband had been in no condition to consummate anything by the time those six girls were done with him! And even if he had been, Kylie, my Maid of Honor, was wasiting for us on the bed wearing nothing but a sexy smile. He felt bad about blowing his last load into her womb instead of mine, but their point had been that we'd have a whole week to do nothing but fuck while Kylie went back to work. At least I could sleep with a clear conscience, right?

That morning, feeling much recovered and more like his old self, we had no time for popping my cherry because the desk clerk had forgotten to enter our 6am wakeup call in the computer. We barely made our flight after a security dog had sniffed out one of Jilly's used dildos, at least I think was hers, and Homeland Security had made me empty my suitcase before I could check-in and get a boarding pass. Why my little sister would think I needed a dildo on my honeymoon was beyond me! It was pretty embarrassing, I'll tell you that much.

At least we made the flight and I was glad. Robert's parents were paying for the honeymoon, which was only fair. My parents had paid for the wedding and the reception, of course. Both of our families were kind of rich anyway, although I couldn't say how rich. I only knew we'd always had everything we always wanted, and now we had each other. Sort of alone, I mean, because there was actually a sort of half-wall around the seats, if you can imagine that, and being in first class was a lot like flying in the world's smallest living room. Except we'd pre-boarded ahead of all the people flying business and cattle, so we had kind of a long wait ahead of us.

"Hey, I think these seats fold down," Robert said, wiggling his eyebrows like a little boy. "There's curtains, too."

"Oh!" I giggled and then frowned. "This stupid armrest won't come up."

"Push the button and it'll slide down," a woman said, peering over the wall in front of us. "Hmmm ... Do you want to change seats?"

"What?" I realized she was peering at Robert. "No! I'm sitting with my husband. See?"

I held up my left hand, wiggling my ring finger at her.

"Not you!" she said with barely a glance. "The view is much better up here, believe me."

"Me?" Robert chuckled and fixed me with his adoring gaze. "No. I like the view here just fine. Thanks anyway."

"Paris," she said, lifting her blonde head a little higher.

"Wrong way," I snorted. "This flight's to Hawaii."

"Paris Hilton," she continued, ignoring me completely. "Are you famous?"

"No, I'm Robert," he replied. "I've seen you on the internet."

"Would you like to see more of me?"

"I saw quite a bit already."

"You don't want a guided tour of Paris?" she teased in a little girl voice. "I can show you all the hot spots."

"He's already got an all access backstage pass to Janeville," I informed her, and I was tempted to stick my tongue out at her, but famous people frighten me.

"Where's that?" she wondered. "Never mind. Come on, Robert. Sit with me, just until we're in the air. I get so frightened during take-off and Lindsey Lohan drank all my vodka."

"Well..." My husband shrugged. "I guess I could hold your hand."

"What?" I blinked at him.

"Honey," he protested, giving me his best Boy Scout smile. "She needs me. What else can I do?"

"It looks more like something needs her," I sighed, looking pointedly at his crotch. Robert was blessed with an unusually large penis and it always seemed to be hungry.

"Shhh..." He leaned close, whispering, "How many guys get a chance to nail Paris Hilton?"

"All of them?" I guessed, but he shook his head.

"This is just for fun, you know that." He kissed my cheek. "It'll be a good honeymoon story to tell our kids someday. Please? Don't be mad, baby."

"Hmph!" I made a face, rolled my eyes, and finally gave in. I could never say no to the man, not even on my honeymoon. "Alright. Get her autograph for me."

"I will," he promised with a nipple popping grin. "You're the best, Janey! I can't believe you married a slut like me!"

"Me neither," I agreed, but I was giggling and that kind of spoiled it.

"Who's a slut?" Paris wondered, flashing her blue eyes between us. "Are you coming or not, cowboy?"

"I will be!" Robert promised, giving me one more kiss for good luck before he changed seats.

I looked at the wine list while I peeled a banana, but I'm not much of a wine person and I had better things to worry about anyway.

"Oh my God!" Paris gasped. "Is that for me?"

"Yeah, baby. Do you think you could sign it first?" Robert wondered. "Ow! Ouch!"

"Sorry!" She giggled. "I kinda dot my i's too hard sometimes."

"Well, now you have to kiss it and make me feel better."

"Oh! Let me get comfortable first," she sighed. "Jesus! That's a big fuckin' dick, and I know some big fuckin' dicks, believe me. Have you ever met Eminem? He's the biggest dick in the world, but not like yours! He told meeemmph!"

"All the way down," Robert sighed. "You've sucked some cock before, huh?"

"Mmmph-hmmph!"

I leaned forward, loosening my seatbelt so I could half-stand and see what they were doing. It turns out those first class seats do turn into a bed, because my husband was laying flat on his back with his pants around his knees while Paris Hilton crouched beside him in a flimsy mini-skirt and a t-shirt. She had her butt pressed right up against the window, but she obviously didn't care about that. The woman had six inches of Robert's fat cock stuffed in her face and wanted more!

They hadn't even pulled the curtain closed, although I suppose neither of them really cared if anyone knew what they were doing. My husband was a slut and Paris was ... Well, she was Paris. Enough said. But it was still kind of embarrassing for me when Denise, the flight attendant, came around with a complimentary box of chocolates.

"We usually don't hand these out on the morning flights," she explained. "But you look like you could use a little something to cheer you up."

"Thanks," I said, and I meant it. "He just can't say no to a pretty face."

"Who can?" she replied with a giggle. "I did Paris the last time she went to Hawaii."

"Oh." I cleared my throat.

"Just push the button if you need anything else," Denise told me before leaning over the seats. "Excuse me, Ms. Hilton, uh ... Robert, but we're going to be taking off soon. If you wouldn't mind, I need you two lovebirds to strap yourselves in."

"Can we do it like ... Ugh! ... This? Spread your legs a little more ... Yeah ... Oh! You're pretty tight for a blonde, Paris!"

"Oh! Fuck! Uhhhh ... Yeah! I have a ... Uh ... Thai ... Trainer! Jesus! I think it's in my uterus!"

"That'll work, I guess," Denise agreed. "I'll come back later and help you guys get loose again."

The plane taxied away from the gate while I listened to the breathless panting of two beautiful people having sex. I decided to eat a chocolate covered cherry. There were only a couple other passengers in first class. One of them looked a lot like that House guy on television, except I heard him speaking on the phone and he had an English accent. The other two were a couple old ladies, like my grandmother's age. They had blue hair and all that, a lot of gaudy jewelry, and way too much makeup. It made me wonder what I'd look like when I got real old, but then I found out they were a couple guys from Twisted Sister and I didn't worry about it so much.

"Oh my God! I'm cumming again!" Paris announced. "I love your fucking cock!"

"I'm gonna cum, too," Robert warned her. "Oh man! I'm gonna blow hard, baby!"

"What? Pull out! You can't cum inside me!"

"Pull out?" My husband laughed. "I think my cock's stuck in your cervix! Jesus! You're tight!"

"Where's the buckle? Can you reach it? Ugh! I'm stuck! My daddy's gonna freeze my trust fund if I get pregnant again!"

"I can't ... Uh! It won't open. Shit ... Can you call the stewardess? I'm stuck, too! Stop fucking my dick!"

"I'm not fucking anything! You're fucking me! Oh jeeze! That feels so ... I'm gonna cum again!"

"Oh no! Sorry ... Paris, but ... Yessss ... Take it, baby! Feel that? I'm cumming!"

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. We're waiting for our final clearance to depart Seattle-Tacoma. We're going to be delayed a few minutes because of the weather, but we should be taking off shortly. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for choosing Virgin-Pacific Airlines this morning."

"Delayed?" Paris giggled. "I thought we were already in the air."

"I was, baby," my husband replied. "That was incredible. Are you ready to do it again?"

"Do I have a choice?" she wondered. "I hope they sell morning after pills at the Duty-Free shop."

I had to sit there for another ten minutes listening to my husband fuck Paris Hilton. I could already imagine how excited he'd be to tell all his friends about his brush with fame. They'd wonder where I'd been and it wouldn't even occur to Robert that he could lie and say I was asleep or in the bathroom, or ... Well, there aren't too many other excuses, really. But that's not the point. Everyone would know that I'd been sitting in the seat directly behind them, reading a boring in-flight magazine and allowing the man I loved to fuck another woman right in front of me.

True love, that's the only excuse I had. From the very beginning, I'd known Robert couldn't keep his dick dry. He admitted as much and often lamented his weakness for pussy. Of course, most men have the same problem, but with my husband's looks and personality, it wasn't just that he loved fucking women -- They loved fucking him! Beautiful women, like Paris Hilton, had no problems with stealing Robert right out from under me. Heck, my own sisters didn't have a problem with it.

Was I the only woman in the world who thought it was wrong to treat a man with respect? Probably, and only because I wasn't attractive like my sisters, or outgoing like Kylie, who had stood by me in front of God, my parents, and a hundred guests with the groom's semen spilling down her long, black legs. And I certainly wasn't famous, like Paris Hilton, although I wasn't exactly sure why she was famous. I figured she was probably one of those manufactured celebrities, you know? America used to be good at making cars, but now we just made people who looked good on television.

Sadly, I wasn't one of those and we both knew it.

"Your husband's a great fuck," Paris told me, returning him after the plane leveled off at thirty thousand feet.

"Hi, Janey." Robert kissed my cheek and he looked exactly like what he was, a slut who had spent the last hour on his back. His face was red, his hair all over the place, and he smelled like some other girl's pussy.

"You're a mess," I told him, frowning.

"So am I," Paris said with a frown of her own. "Where's that stewardess. I know she likes her eggs runny. How about you, wifey?"