I smile to myself as I slip in the last piece of clothing into my oversized suitcase.  I probably didn’t need a suitcase this big, but when you travel the world for a living, it becomes all you have.  Besides, it leaves more room for condoms, anyway.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been on a long trip that wasn’t work related, but I can’t deny that I’m looking forward to it.  Sometimes it’s so easy to get yourself stuck in a rut when you stay in one place for too long, or if you only leave for work.  It’s important to have a little variety in life.

Especially women.

But this trip--this will be fun.  JC and Trace somehow convinced me that we needed to go snowboarding for two weeks in Canada.  I’m not sure why they chose Canada over Aspen or the Swiss Alps, but hell--who am I to argue?  Canadian women are hot, especially the French Canadians.  Although, it wouldn’t hurt if they shaved a little.  And it’s not like Canada is a typical tourist destination, so we should be safe on the security/paparazzi front.  It’ll be a nice getaway, indeed.

I heard a knock on the door, and turn my head to see JC pop in.

“You ready man?  Car’s here,” he said simply.  He had a goofy grin on his face, and something about it triggered a slight worry in the back of my mind, although I’m not quite sure why.

“Yeah, dude.  Just let me do one last check, and then I’m ready.  Is Trace good to go?” I swiftly moved back to the suitcase, doing a mental inventory of every item I needed, and nodded approvingly when it was there.  I quickly zipped it up and pulled it off the bed, glancing up at him expectantly.

“Oh, yeah.  He’s ready,” he laughed.  “Come on, let’s go.  Let’s go.  I can’t wait to get there, and the jet is waiting.”

He loved it when we took the damn jet.  But guess who gets to pay for the jet?  Oh, yeah.  Me. 

Fucker.

I walk away from the bag and let him take it, knowing full well I’m not going to roll that shit to the car myself, considering I’m paying or this little party of theirs.  I may be Mr. Moneybags, but I’m not going to be Mr. Pack Mule too. 

I stop in the mirror before leaving the room, and check my appearance.  Damn, I look good.  My hands reach down to smooth out the slight wrinkle in my WR jeans before lightly adjusting my bulge.  My hands reach up, lightly tugging down the light green and yellow sport jacket I was wearing, making sure it was even against my hips.  Lastly, I check my face for bags under the eyes, and after being satisfied that there were none, I lightly run a hand through my slightly growing curls, disheveling them a bit for effect.  Women love the disheveled look.

Looking good, Timberlake.

I check my platinum watch one last time before heading out of my room and down the stairs, making the last call to anyone left in the house that we were leaving.  I stop at the door to give a little love to my puppies before standing and leaving.  

That was the only hard part about leaving for trips--my poor puppies hated to see me go, and their little whines almost tore me to pieces every single time.  That’s one reason why I never want to have kids or a wife.  I hate the whine, and if I think a dog whine is bad, then what would I do if it was my kid?  I’d never step foot outside of the house. Ever.  So fuck that entirely.

I slid into the limo after the driver opened the door for me, and I was surprised to see that I was the first one in.  Normally, I’m the last.  As I was waiting for Trace and JC to arrive, I looked down at my lower half, and I silently cursed when I realized there was a scuff on my brand new tennis shoes.  This would not do.  I was about to get out when JC and Trace popped in.

Oh well.  Too late now.  I roll my eyes as they immediately start programming the music for our drive, cracking open the champagne, and talking up a storm about how excited they were going to be once they got to Canada.  I roll my eyes.  You would think that they’ve never travelled in their lives considering how much they were acting like little bitches right now.

“Seriously?  You guys are out of control.”  I finally couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.

“Oh, stop being a bitch ‘cause you haven’t gotten laid yet this morning,” Trace replied, mimicking my earlier eye roll.

Here we go.  “Don’t even start with me on that shit right now.  You two act like you’ve never gone on vacation before.  We’re just going to Canada to go snowboarding, it’s not that big of a deal,” I finished, grabbing the bottle of champagne.  But I couldn’t help but feel this nagging feeling in the back of my head that there was something up their sleeves.

“Don’t hate because you can’t get excited about anything anymore.  We’re happy to go on vacation, and you should be too.  Now stop being a bitch, and let’s have some fun,” JC finished.  He never did like confrontation that much.  In fact, JC would do his best to smooth over any situation as quickly as possible.  He hated fighting.

Trace and I, on the other hand, we would get into it until one of us ended up punching the other.  Then, it would spiral out of control, and both of us would end up sparring on the ground, leaving us with blood stained clothes.  In fact, there was a photo shoot that I did a long time ago right after Trace and I got into a fight.  I thought it was hilarious that the Director wanted to keep the bloody theme going, so I went with it.  Looking back at those photos, they still make me laugh a little.  It’s a good thing Trace is like my brother, or I would have killed him by now.

We finally get to the airport, and I’m all too happy that we can bypass all of the security bullshit and drive straight on to the tarmac to the jet hangar.  We all get out, and file one by one to the plane, getting ready to walk up the tiny stairs as the driver brings our bags behind us.

I’m the first one on the stairs, and as I near the top of them, I set my eyes on a perfectly round ass clad in a perfectly taught flight attendant skirt.  This hot little number is bent over fixing some drink trays, but I could care less about what she’s doing.  All I care about is that ass. 

And then it starts.  I feel my veins constricting, and all of the blood rushing from my brain to my dick.  My fists clench, and I want nothing more than to just lift her skirt and pound the shit out of her right now.  I try to shake my head of my thoughts, and just keep walking.  I literally have to force myself to my seat.

I don’t want to have sex with everything that comes my way.  I really don’t.  But it’s times like these, when I see something that I want, and this feeling rushes through my body.  My simple want turns into a desperate need, and once it becomes a need, there’s no rational thought left to stop it.  I will do. whatever. it. takes. to. fuck. her.

I watch as the other guys get on the plane and take their seats.  My breathing is getting heavier, and my dick is getting harder.  I watch her silently, from afar.  The way she stands up, showing off the gorgeous curvature of her ass from the profile view I have, is driving me crazy.  That skirt is way too tight, but I love it.  Then she’ll bend back over, adjusting something else, and I’ll get a glimpse of those gorgeous tits in her top.  And man, are they gorgeous.

Fuck.

We all get settled, but my eyes are not leaving her form.  For this moment, I am obsessed with her.  The way she bites on the bottom of her cherry red lips, the way she’ll blow some hair off of her face.  I can just imagine tearing that little top off and sucking on her breasts.  I’ll be they’re a C-cup, and I’ll even venture to say she has perfectly round nipples.  And those thighs...mmmmm....those thighs are dangerous.  I can tell by the way her calves look in those high heels.

I watch her as she closes the doors, and I can’t help but lick my lips at the way her tits bounce as she tries to move the heavy door all by herself.  I can just imagine that’s how they’ll look when I’m fucking her from behind.

It feels like time drags on slowly as we prepare for takeoff, and finally we’re in the air.  I smile as the young woman takes care of my friends before she comes to me, and I look up at her with a smirk.

“Sir, what can I get for you?” she asked sweetly.  Her voice was sweet, like sugar.

Oh, I know what you can get me.  “How about a jack and a coke, and your phone number.”  I smirk a little at her awkward face.  They always feign innocence, but every girl is a slut for the right man, even if she doesn’t think she is.

“Excuse me, sir?” she repeated.

“You heard me.  Jack and coke.  And your phone number,” I smile again, just as sweetly.  She just stands there awkwardly, and I know there’s no way she’s going to deny me.  I look around, but Trace and JC had already gone to the front to play guitar hero, so I was in the clear.  I reach my hand up and cup her breast, biting my bottom lip as he slowly let my eyes move from her neckline to her face.

“Or, you can be a dear, and come to the bathroom with me,” I finish, brushing my thumb expertly over her now taught nipple.  I knew they would be perfectly round.

“Uh...excuse me, but I...I’m not....that’s.....that’s unprofessional,” she stammered, obviously trying to gain her senses.

“Look.  You know who I am, and I know you want to fuck me.  I can feel it.”  I let my left hand slowly slide to the back of her knee, lightly tickling the flesh as I move my fingertips up her thigh ever so slowly.  “I know you want it, ‘cause you’re not pushing me away.  So....you can do yourself a favor, and come to the back and have the best fuck of your life....or you can pretend that you’re not a slut and wonder what if until the day you die.”

She was choking on her words, and I knew I had a small window to seal the deal.  I moved my hand up to her center, pushed aside her panties, and slid a long finger inside.  I slowly stroked her g-spot, and I felt her quiver against me, her thighs trapping my hand against her.

“Or we can just fuck right here.  Your prerogative, baby.” I could be so cocky sometimes.

“No,” she hisses.  “Just...give me five minutes.  I’ll...uh...I never do this, but I’ll...meet you in the bathroom.  Just leave it unlocked,” she nodded.  I could tell she was questioning herself, but she wouldn’t deny herself the simple pleasure.

I nodded to her as I pulled my hand from her throbbing center, which was already dripping wet at this point.  I pulled my fingers to my lips and slowly started sucking on them as a bit of a tease.  This was a long flight, so I was going to make sure I took my time with her.

I waited for her to disappear before I stood up, adjusting my thickness in my pants, starting to feel the need to have a release.  I walk with a slight limp to the bathroom and slip in effortlessly.  I loved flying in a private jet because the bathrooms weren’t as tiny as regular commercial airliners.

Impatiently, I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled my cock out of my boxers.  If she was going to take five minutes, I was going to at least get a little pleasure while I waited.  I just sat on the toilet, stroking my cock painfully slow as I waited. 

My head jumped up when I heard the door open, and as soon as I saw her, the smirk returned to my face.  “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, I had to make sure the captain was alright, and make sure your friends were taken care of so we could have some time,” she replied, closing and locking the door behind her.  I could tell by her face that she was slightly shocked at the size of my dick, standing at attention for her.  They usually were.

“You like what you see, babygirl?  It’s all yours if you want it.  Come get it,” I reply, my voice now husky with desire.

“Mmm....maybe,” she giggled.  She was actually kinda cute.  I watched her saunter over to me and slide onto my lap.  The closeness of feeling her heat so close to my dick was intoxicating, and I couldn’t help but push my hips towards her, desperate for some friction.

“Not so fast.  If I’m going to be a bad girl, I want it to at least be worth it,” she smiles.  She leaned in and kissed me, something that I rarely allow, but it wasn’t so bad with her.  I enjoyed the mini make-out session as she started stroking my cock and grinding on me.

I took the liberty to start unbuttoning her shirt, pulling it off of her roughly when I had succeeded.  I pulled away to take a look at her chest, and I smiled approvingly.  I moved one hand to her back and undid her bra in one swift, easy motion, releasing her soft mounds from their confines.

After tossing the additional material to the side, my lips found one of her breasts, as the other began kneading its twin.  She had the softest flesh I had ever felt, and I loved the whimpers that were departing from her lips.  I could tell she was getting a little impatient by the increased pace of her grinding.

I gently tapped the side of her thigh and smirked. “C’mon, baby.  Get up.  I want you to give me a show, ‘cause I’ve been dying to see that ass since I saw it bent over in my face.”

She smirked and I nodded to her approvingly.  I watched her get up, and she was about to take the heels off, but I stopped her.  She had damn nice legs, and I loved her heels.  As she was working her skirt off, I pushed my boxers and my jeans down to my ankles, not wanting this to be a problem when the urge fully took over my body and I had to be inside of her.

I smiled as she did a little dancing for me, and slowly undid the back of her skirt.  She put one hand on the sink, bending over slightly for me, as she pushed down her skirt, stepping out of it gracefully when it hit the floor.

And here I was, staring at her perfectly round, perfectly taught ass, just a foot from my face.  “Take the panties off, baby.”

She obliged, hooking her thumbs in the waist band of her g-string, and she did a teasing dance as she pulled them over her round ass.  I leaned forward and slowly slid a few fingers into her dripping wet pussy, pulsing them ever so slowly to tease her as much as she had just teased me.

“Bend over, baby.  All the way,” I mumbled.

I watched her as she obliged, and I grabbed her hips roughly and pulled them to my face, gently starting to work my tongue against her nub, my fingers starting a gentle pace.  I wanted to make sure that she was nice and wet.

I listened to her moan, and watched as she began to writhe beneath my touch.  I definitely knew how to please a woman, even if I didn’t do it very often.  By the time I worked her up to her first orgasm, I was ready to blow, and that itch was getting so bad that I almost couldn’t stand it.

“Are you ready, baby?” I ask quietly, my voice filled with need.

“Mmm, damn right I am.  How do you want me?” she asked.

“Well, I usually don’t ask this...but you’ve got a damn fine ass, and it looks like you know how to use it.  Why don’t you ride me, show me what you got.”  To be honest, I was a little tired today, and wasn’t looking to do all the work.

She smirked and obliged, tantalizingly crawling over my body as she gripped my cock.  She placed it at her entrance after I slipped on the condom, and she whimpered as she slid down on me.  I leaned my head back, placing my hands behind my head as I looked down and watched her.  

Soon enough, after she adjusted to my massive length, I felt her starting to rock her hips faster, moving in a figure eight motion, and it was starting to drive me crazy. 

“Fuck,” I hiss.  “That’s it, just a little faster baby.  Keep rocking those hips.”  God, she could move.  Finally, I moved my hands back down to her hips, and I helped guide her around my cock, making her hips move in ways she didn’t even know she could move.

And then something snapped, and I needed my release.  This wasn’t about her anymore, this was about getting off.  In one swift motion, I stood up, my hips holding onto hers tightly as he I started to pulse into her while we were standing.

I could hear her moans getting louder, and it just pushed me closer and closer to the edge.  I finally needed more leverage, and I pulled her off my cock and spun her around, looking at her in the mirror.  I gently lifted one of her legs onto the bathroom counter, keeping her there by holding onto her heel, and I thrust deeply inside of her.

She was surprisingly pushing back with her ass, its flesh pushing against my lower abs and driving me crazy.  My hands got lost in her hair, pushing her forward so her face was against the mirror, pulling her leg further away for more leverage.  I started pounding into her, but not at my usual feverish pace.  This was slower, but harder.  Every few seconds I would pound into her completely, burying every single inch of my cock into her depths, to the point that she would scream out in a painful pleasure.  I would hold it deep inside of her, and without warning, would pull out, and push into her just as hard again.

“Fuck me...oh god,” she whimpered.  “Faster, please.”

I knew this torturously slow pace was driving her crazy, and it felt good.  I needed to feel her come though, desperately needing that deep clenching feeling around my cock to make me go over the edge.  I reached my hand around, thumbing her clit as I continued my rough, slow assault.

Finally, she was writhing so badly in pleasure, that I could feel her start quaking and trembling around me, and that was my cue to just rip into her so fast and so hard that I had no choice but to come.  

And come I did.  Over and over into her depths as I gripped onto her ass, trying to get it all out.  And just as we both finished reaching our highs, the captain came over the loudspeaker, announcing the initial decent into Canada.

I thrust into her once last time for effect and grunted.

“Perfect timing,” I smirked.  I pulled out, discarded the condom, and was shocked when she dropped to her knees to lap it all up.

“Must have been good for you to do that,” I finished.

“Damn right,” she mumbled, her mouth full of my cock, teasing my balls a little.  “I’ll make sure I’m on your next flight, maybe we can have a little more time,” she winked.

Not likely, bitch.

“Yeah, maybe,” I replied, noncommittally.  This is where it all goes wrong.  They all want more.  I can’t help it I’m good at what I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to fuck you all the time.  At least this was the first girl that I didn’t mind touching me after I came, but still--not going to happen sweetheart.  I waited for her to finish lapping me up before I got dressed.  I smacked her ass on the way out of the bathroom and found my way to my seat, a happy man.

JC and Trace both saw me come back out, and I could tell they were both shaking their heads at me, but I didn’t care.  As we landed, I grabbed my things, rubbing her ass on the way out for desperate measure, and was happy to be met with the chilled Canadian air.

“So what is this place that we’re going to?” I asked as we got into the town car.

“Well, actually--that’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” Trace mentioned, but JC shook his head, as if saying "no."  Something was going on, I could feel it.

“What do you mean, that’s what you wanted to talk about?” I asked.

JC jumped in.  “It’s nothing man, we’re just excited to be here.”  I was worried, but I dismissed it.  Whatever it was, they would tell me, right?

As the car drove, I could feel myself starting to get antsy.  There is something not sitting well with me, and I don’t know what it is.

But as soon as I saw the sign for the Rehab Treatment Center, my eyes got wide, and I knew exactly what this was about.  

“Stop the car!  Stop the fucking car, right this fucking instant!” I screamed. 

Oh, hell no.