Find more from this author on:
About the author:
Poppy Snow penned her first naughty story at seventeen and lived it at nineteen! Since then, she’s married, divorced, traveled the world and come home again to Manhattan where she lives on Central Park with her three dachshunds–Ollie, Pretzel, and Waldo. To relax, she sips extra dirty martinis in the bathtub while watching her favorite reality shows on TV.
What inspired you to write your book?
Daydreaming while trapped on an especially long flight.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Bonnie made 6D’s scotch on the rocks, set it on a linen-covered tray, then delivered it with a slight bob. She’d hoped rubbing her legs together would ease the growing pressure, but if anything, it’d heightened her urgency.
“Thank you.” He appraised her with the kind of hunger Rachel had taught her to recognize in passengers. Rachel stayed away from horny customers, but she obviously didn’t have the same needs as Bonnie.
“While you’re here…” 6D smiled. His sandy-colored hair and chiseled good looks only worsened her situation. “Would you mind giving me a hand with the window shade. I can’t get it up.”
“I’m sorry.” She wished his words hadn’t taken her mind straight to the bedroom. “Not being able to get it up can be a bother. Maybe I can help?”
The row sat three, but only the center seat he occupied was taken. He was a tall, well-built man, and held his long legs parted.
To reach the window, she’d have to straddle him. “Pardon me, sir. To get it up may take some maneuvering.”
“By all means…” He gestured for her to try squeezing past, but of course, she couldn’t without her aching pussy brushing atop his right knee. The sudden, delicious pressure caused her to sharply inhale.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, wishing, wishing he’d move his hand the short distance down the length of his thigh to give her a little rub. “This task’s harder than I’d expected.”
“Want me to help?” he asked.
Assuming he was still talking about the window shade, mouth dry, pulse racing, Bonnie checked to make sure Rachel was busy, then sucked her lower lip into her mouth for a breathy nod.
But when the passenger shocked her by sliding his big hand not only up her inner thigh, but well under her skirt, easing his finger beneath her panties, she gasped, bracing her hands against his seat back. “Sir…”