At 26, Paige was a total smoke show—a 5’9″ bombshell who’d snagged the campus queen title back in college and now owned the skies as a hot-as-hell flight attendant on those fancy international routes for a major airline. I’d been low-key obsessed with her for almost two years, but every time I caught her vibe—that bubbly, gym-toned energy—I’d just fantasize from afar, never ballsy enough to shoot my shot. She was my best friend Wyatt’s wife, after all—they’d locked it down just three months ago in this epic Miami beach wedding that had everyone buzzing. But damn, I couldn’t shake her. In my 35 years, she was the hottest thing I’d ever seen: those killer, smooth-as-silk legs that went on forever, and her full, perky DD tits that bounced just right, driving me absolutely wild.
Next to her glowing, tall-ass self, I always felt like the short straw—at 5’5″ and skinny with zero game in the looks department. But one crazy night after our bowling league tournament crushed it in Miami, the universe hooked me up. We bumped into Wyatt and Paige at this swanky waterfront spot, schmoozing clients with Wyatt’s dad. Their crew had to jet to Key West for some deal, but Paige wasn’t feeling it and wanted to crash at their downtown hotel. Wyatt, rushing out, hit me up to walk her back. No clue our team was at the same bougie high-rise with those insane bay views.
My dude Chunky Joe came along, and since he was Wyatt’s ride-or-die, Paige chilled out completely. When she found out our rooms were right below hers on the tenth floor, she shot us this flirty grin and popped a bottle of smooth cognac, pouring rounds like it was nothing. We checked if she was okay, but she just smirked, “Nah, I’m good—just dodging that sketchy hurricane drive to Key West. Sounds boring as fuck.” Nailed it; this beast of a storm was slamming Florida, winds howling and rain dumping by dusk.
The drinks hit quick, loosening everything up. Paige ditched her faux-fur coat, and Joe and I straight-up stared, hearts racing. Holy shit—she was poured into this sexy black velvet dress that dipped low as hell front and back, with a slit riding up her thigh like an invitation. Her big tits pushed against the fabric, nipples poking through, hard and obvious—no bra in sight. Thin silver chains held it up, matching her sparkly necklace, those long earrings swinging against her neck, and her strappy heels with silver accents. She lounged back on the couch, that smooth thigh flashing all the way. My dick twitched hard, straining in my pants. Eyeing her teasing smile, I muttered, “Paige, you look insane tonight.” She tilted her head, smirking, “Yeah? This is just my vibe.” Joe jumped in, “For real—your hair’s on point too.”
That night, her long waves were tossed up in a messy bun, strands falling loose around her face, giving her this effortless, fuck-me-now glow—lazy, hot, straight fire. She perked up, “You guys serious?” Joe nodded, “Hell yeah—classy and sexy AF.” I added, “Straight-up goddess level.” She laughed low, “Y’all are drunk already.”
Wyatt’s call killed the vibe, or we’d have stayed glued there. Paige played it cool, skipping the drink mention, just saying our team’s at the hotel. Wyatt said he’d hit Joe’s room next, so we bounced downstairs fast. He was stuck halfway to Key West—the hurricane trapping them at some crappy motel. “If the power cuts, check on Paige?” Hell yeah, we’d handle it.
Joe got pulled into poker with the captain, but Paige was all I could think about. I snuck back up, filling her in. She giggled, “It’s barely raining—no big deal.” She kicked off her heels, leaning back against the headboard flipping channels, her body curved in a way that had my mind going places… But she was into the show, so after some quick talk, I headed out. By 10, the storm went full beast mode—boom, lights out, hotel pitch black. We grabbed candles from the desk in the chaos, but Joe got dragged back to the game. I snagged extras and hauled ass up the stairs—couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Her room was total darkness, and she grabbed onto me like I was her anchor, all tough-girl act gone, just raw nerves. This babe who towered over me pressed in close—hand in mine, then on my shoulder—like I’d bail. Candles lit, but she stayed glued. Fuck, her hair smelled like sweet vanilla heat, and those heavy tits brushed my neck, nipples teasing through the dress. I tried getting her to bed, but she shook her head, “No lights? Can’t sleep. And downstairs? Don’t know your boys like that.” So I pulled a chair to the balcony doors, watching the madness outside: winds screaming, rain pounding, shit flying everywhere. She curled into my lap, actually shaking a bit. “You’re trembling,” I whispered, arm around her. “I’m a total wuss—dark’s always freaked me out,” she admitted softly. I stroked her arm, “What if it’s out all night?” She leaned in hard, “Then you’re not going anywhere—stay with me.”
One candle died, leaving us in that dim storm glow. I joked, “No more candles—now what?” She burrowed closer, “As long as you’re here, I’m good. Don’t leave.” In the low light, she looked unreal—mysterious, needy as hell. I shifted her between my legs, back to my chest, arms around her waist and shoulder. Chair was tight, bodies pressed, breaths mixing. I tested it, lips brushing her shoulder, tongue tracing her neck slow. “You’re so hot, Paige.” She sighed, “Wyatt doesn’t even notice anymore.” I nipped her ear, “He’s got you—doesn’t chase anymore.” She whispered, “Guys are like that… get what they want, then dip.” I licked the spot, “Not me. If you were mine, I’d never stop wanting you.” One hand on her shoulder; the other slid up her waist, cupping under her tit—heavy, warm, perfect. Thumb circled her nipple through the fabric, and she didn’t pull back, just breathed heavier. “These feel amazing,” I murmured. She arched back, head on my shoulder, eyes dark with want. “Stay tonight? I don’t wanna be alone.”
Heart pounding—was she really asking? Chill, feel it out. Eyes locked, I slipped the strap down, baring skin, and squeezed her tit, fingers digging in, rolling the hard nipple. My mouth close to hers, “Can I kiss you?” She moaned soft, “Alex… I’m already letting you… touch me like this.” I went for her lip, sucking it in, tongue sliding over— and she lit up, body twisting, kissing back hungry. Tongues tangled wet and wild, teeth bumping, slick and hot. Her mouth tasted like booze and sin, tongue pushing deep into mine; I gave it back, exploring her throat with mine, spit mixing messy. We gasped, ground together—the kiss dragging on, ten minutes of straight fire.
Pulling back, her dress bunched at her waist, tits out—full, flushed, nipples begging. “Paige, these are perfect,” I groaned. She grabbed my hands, pressing them there. “You’ve wanted this forever, huh? Go for it—suck them, play… I’m yours right now.” I squeezed hard, “Since day one.” She straddled me, arching back, breathing ragged. “I know… always checking me out, wanting this.” I pinched her nipples, “Yeah—these tits fuck with my head.” She pushed them at me, “Then do it already.”
I yanked the rest off her, mouth on her right tit—sucking the nipple deep, tongue flicking hard as she bucked. Skin hot and sweaty under my lips, tasting like salt and her. She rolled off to the carpet, writhing, hips grinding up. Her body’s insane—36DD-23-34 curves all mine, tits heaving, waist tiny, legs spreading wide to show her wet pussy. Hands on her thighs, thumbs parting those swollen lips—hot, soaked folds dripping, slick coating everything.
I buried my face, tongue diving into her tight heat, lapping her tangy juices as walls clenched around me, pulsing wet. She thrashed, fingers in my hair, clit throbbing under my suck—swollen nub slick and hot, her cum flooding in waves. Heat everywhere; her skin burning, moisture slicking my chin, ass tightening as I circled her hole with my tongue, warm and tight. I edged her twice, fingers pumping deep, hitting that spot till she exploded, hot squirts on my tongue, screams echoing.
Paige lost it—spreading wide, hips bucking dirty, every move begging more. Pure rush: owning this dream, making her shake. She gasped, “Fuck, you’re killing me… so good at this. Take me—fuck me hard. Whatever you want.” I bent her over the window, hands on glass, ass up—legs wide to drop her height. Gripped her cheeks, lined up my hard cock—thick, veiny eight inches throbbing hot, tip leaking. Pushed into her slick lips, she looked back, “Shit, it’s huge—already stretching.” Sinking in, her pussy gripped like fire—walls rippling wet, juices running down. Halfway, “So thick… filling me up.” Balls deep, she shook, “Hitting everything… fuck me, please—hard.”
Tight as hell, hot silk milking me with every thrust, skin slapping wet, her tits smacking glass. I angled for her spot, feeling her flood again—sticky down her legs. Storm raging like us: winds matching her moans, rain like our sweat. Secrets later—for now, I wrecked her, pounding deep in the chaos.
