Page 25 of The Facilitator, Part 2

I ran from bedroom to bathroom checking I hadn’t forgotten anything, as Mackenzie and our driver from Virgin Airways loaded our cases in the boot of a chauffeur driven car.

“Lauren!” Mackenzie shouted impatiently from the front door.

“I’m coming,” I snapped back. I descended the stairs as quick as my heels would allow and smirked at him as I passed.

The car door was held open for me and I climbed into the back.

I placed my handbag on the floor of the car and settled into the leather seat.

Mackenzie soon joined me. Excitement started to bubble inside me.

I hadn’t visited the U.S. before, and I had a romantic idea of what Charleston looked like after spending some time on Google.

Mrs. Collingsworth, Gabriella’s mother, had wanted us to stay with her for a couple of days and attend the party Gabriella had texted details of.

We were then scheduled to head to Boston with her and Alex.

Mackenzie had other ideas, though. He wanted to stay in his old family home, and he’d made arrangements for it to be cleaned and stocked with groceries for the few days we’d be there.

It seemed we were going to be busy, and I wondered if I’d be able to get used to the time difference before we had to leave and return.

“I’m really looking forward to visiting your home town,” I said, as we reached the motorway to Heathrow.

“We moved when I was in my late teens to LA for a while, but it was a comfort to return there.”

“Why LA?” I remembered he’d started working with his father and assumed that to be in South Carolina.

“We ran away for a while,” he said, giving me a wink. I squeezed his hand. It wasn’t the time to cover old memories.

We chatted about America, Boston in particular. Mackenzie was taken with the city. He told me a little of its history, how it was one of the oldest in the U.S., he certainly had an affinity with the place. I could feel the nostalgia and love for a place I was yet to visit from the words he spoke.

A member of the Virgin staff met us and our bags were taken through.

We were escorted to the Upper Class Lounge and, although early morning, champagne was offered.

I opted for a Buck’s Fizz instead. To say I was excited in the Upper Class Lounge was an understatement.

It was thrilling and luxurious, pampering, and also rather daunting.

I remembered Mackenzie’s statement about the Mile High Club and I prayed he’d forgotten—although the butterflies in my stomach prayed otherwise.

I read a newspaper, although I had no interest in current affairs other than what was happening around the business world.

Even when I was with Jerry, I wanted to know what our competitors were doing, where there was an opening for us before that opening happened.

It was also amazing what opportunities could be found in the trash mags .

“Look at this,” I said, showing Mackenzie an article I’d found.

“What’s it about?” he asked.

“David Lamont is having an affair.”

He stared at me for a moment.

“Lord Lamont is the major shareholder of Comptest, one of our competitors. What do you think that scandal will do to their share price?”

He picked up his phone and called someone. He wanted to know what was happening to their shares, and if they did hit an all-time low, he wanted some. After his call, he leaned forward and kissed me.

“You might have just made me half a million,” he said.

“How? You just bought them.”

“Because when this scandal is asswipe paper, those shares will go back up. I’ll sell and make half a million.”

He laughed and I raised my glass to him. “And you deserve half the profit,” he said.

“I’ll drink to that,” I said, not for one minute assuming he was joking. He never did where business was concerned.

It was another hour later that we were called to board our flight.

We were shown to our seats, yet more champagne was offered, which was declined, and we were given a vanity case of toiletries and a ‘lounge suit,’ which comprised a fleecy top and yoga pants.

My clothes were hung so they’d be crease free for later.

Take off was effortless and we were soon being fussed over by the stewards.

I read while Mackenzie used his laptop to work; we ate and drank before the lights were dimmed. We were then encouraged to nap in an effort to trick our bodies we were already in a different time zone. I had raised the footstool and lowered the back a little.

A while later, Mackenzie turned on his side to face me. He reached over and ran his finger over my lips.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

My eyes widened completely involuntary. “What?”

He stood and reached out his hand. “Come with me.”

“We can’t,” I said, starting to chuckle.

“Wanna bet?”

“No, I don’t think I’d win. Mackenzie, this is…”

“Fun, daring, dangerous. Now come with me.” His tone had a very slight plead to it.

I stood and followed him. I made a huge effort not to make any eye contact whatsoever.

My heart was beating out of my chest and already, my legs wobbled.

The thought of getting caught caused my breath to catch in my throat, but the fear of knowing that was a possibility, and I still had five hours of flying while knowing we’d been, made me feel light-headed.

We passed a bar. Save for the steward who was restocking, it was empty.

Beyond was a small massage chair, a shower room, and bathroom.

Without even looking back, Mackenzie opened the bathroom door and pulled me in after him.

The bathroom in the Upper Class cabin of a Virgin Airways long haul plane bore no resemblance to the low-budget, cram them in, cheap airline to Spain.

After he’d closed and locked the door, he pushed his body into mine and pinned me to a rather flimsy wall.

I could see the back of him in the mirror and then my skin as he ran his hands up my sides, dragging the top with them.

I raised my arms as he pulled the top over my head.

He pushed up my bra and lowered his head.

His tongue circled, his lips covered, and his teeth nipped.

I threaded my fingers through his hair and held him to me.

I was conscious of the engine noise, of heavy footsteps as someone walked past to visit the other bathroom.

Mackenzie’s hands slid down, grabbing the elasticated waistband of the yoga pants, and my panties.

He lowered and dragged them to my ankles.

I lifted one foot and soon found myself standing partially naked.

He ran his nose up my inner thigh, I parted my legs as much as I could in the still confined space, eventually lifting it and hooking my calf over his shoulder. The wetness and throbbing between my thighs was soon given his full attention.

“Mackenzie,” I whispered. At first he ignored me.

I pulled at his hair until he was looking up at me.

“I need you inside me,” I said, as quietly as I could.

He laughed as he stood. I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and lowered the zipper of his trousers.

I reached in and freed his hard cock. I ran my hand up and down his shaft, feeling the veins and pulse of desire before looking to my right.

I shuffled until I was backed to the counter and Mackenzie lifted me.

At what should have been sleep time to adjust to the South Carolina time zone, Mackenzie fucked me at thousands of feet above the ocean below.

It was fairly quick, and for that I was pleased.

I had no doubt a marathon session in that cubical wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.

When Mackenzie was about to come, he pulled out.

His hot cum spurted over my bare thigh and his lips crashed down on mine. He kissed me hard.

“Thank you,” he whispered, as he pulled away.

He reached over to grab a handful of tissues and he wiped his cum from my thigh.

“I didn’t think you’d want to sit in those nice leather seats with my cum dripping from you,” he said. I covered my mouth so as not to laugh out loud.

“Well, I sure do appreciate your thoughtfulness. Now, get my knickers and pants, please.”

He reached down and slid both items over my feet. I moved from the counter and dressed.

“Now what happens?” I asked.

“Now we sneak out. We register our fuck on the Mile High Club website and who knows, we might get a certificate to hang on your office wall.” He winked, and I knew he was kidding. However, there was a glint in his eye that had me wonder if I was wrong!

When Mackenzie opened the bathroom door, I hid behind him as much as I could.

“Is anyone there?” I asked.

“Yes, the steward. What do you want to drink?”

“Huh?”

Mackenzie walked out, as brazen as anything, leaving me scuttling behind.

He strode straight to the smiling steward and asked for two glasses of champagne.

I stood, my cheeks the colour of the steward’s waistcoat as I was handed one glass, accompanied by a wink.

I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t spilled the fizz as I power-walked back to my seat.

I took a gulp of the cold alcohol as Mackenzie took his seat. He raised his glass to me.

“I can tick that off my list now,” he said.

For a man who flew long haul regularly, I was surprised he wasn’t already a member. I didn’t want to voice that thought, of course.

“I’m glad I could be of assistance, and keep your voice down, please?”

Mackenzie tapped the side of his head. He’d done that in the past, an indicator to get the British stuffiness about sex from my mind. I reached over, grabbed the bulge in his trouser and squeezed.

“Put a blanket over your lap and I’ll make you come again,” I said. It was his turn to be wide-eyed.

“I will hold you to that,” he said.

“I expect you to.” I smiled as I sat back and sipped on my drink.