First Alien Enterprises
Chapter 15

Copyright© 2011 by diabetic

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 15 - A classic genre -- the alien abduction -- with a few twists. In honor of cmsix who made this genre what it is. This is all about play for pay with an alien mix.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Group Sex   Interracial   White Male   Oriental Female   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Prostitution  

It took me a few moments to orient myself and I headed to the Singapore Airlines First Class check in area. The airline was, as I expected, incredibly polite and efficient, and I found myself really looking forward to the flight. A lovely customer relations agent handled my check-in while I was seated in the first class check-in area. No standing in line, No hassles. Once my check-in was completed I headed off to the Silver Kris Lounge to await my flight.

All told, I spent a couple of hours grazing and reading local newspapers/magazines. Finally, one of the hostesses approached me and said she was ready to escort me onboard. She took me out of the lounge, handed my boarding pass to the lady checking those things, and took me down the ramp and onto the aircraft. She delivered me to 2A, showed me how all of the lie flat set features worked and took my drink order. I thanked her for her kindness and she left, swinging by the galley to place my drink order for me.

A minute later, one of the First Class flight attendants appeared, introduced herself, handed me my mimosa, and asked if there were any other services she could render. I told my dirty mind to behave, and simply thanked her.

I then sat down, fired up my laptop, and got back to studying the G550 aircraft manuals, paying particular attention to flight planning and fuel management. My mimosa glass never really had a chance to get empty as the flight attendants were almost constantly swapping out my glass whenever it got to the halfway mark. Finally, the flight attendant said I had to put away my laptop for takeoff, but she would be sure to let me know when I could get back to work. She took the remains of my Mimosa, but promised to return with a fresh, cold one as soon as we completed climb-out. Even though I knew the Alien technology that powered my laptop would have no impact on the aircraft system, it would have been stupid of me to make an issue of it, so I graciously complied and leaned back to enjoy the safety briefings and the taxi out and take off.

The takeoff was smooth and powerful. It is amazing how much power those two engines produce. It is also amazing that a fully-loaded twin jet can stay aloft for more than 12 hours. We've come a long way, baby.

{Not that far, human!}

[Gandalf, behave!]

{Yes sir. I actually interrupted to let you know that you will be met in London and escorted off of the plane well ahead of the other passengers. You will be escorted through customs and immigration by a representative of the UK Government. Just go with the flow and don't engage him in very much conversation. He is simply a tool. Ground transportation has been arranged and will take you directly to your hotel in style.}

[Excellent job, Gandalf. Excellent!]

We soon reached cruising altitude, and breakfast service began. This was going to be about a 14 hour flight, leaving Singapore at 9 a.m. and getting in to London at about 3:30 in the afternoon. There would be three meals, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Breakfast consisted of sliced grouper congee with spring onions and ginger. Yummm. A fresh mimosa also appeared, nicely chilled, as promised.

After breakfast I dove back into my flight manuals until I was interrupted by one of the flight crew members. It was the relief co-pilot, and he had just been in the galley and recognized the Jeppesen flight materials on my screen and stopped to chat. With Gandalf's help I was able to have a pretty good discussion of the handling characteristics of the G550, and learned quite a bit about the Boeing 777-300ER that we were flying on. We spent a good 45 minutes chatting about aviation and flying, and he seemed envious when I told him my plans to pick up a G550 in Savannah in about a week, and then spend about a week getting it back to Bangkok. We swapped contact information and I let him know that if he ever overnighted in Bangkok I would take him up and let him have some time at the controls. He seemed excited by the prospect when he left to go back to the under floor crew rest area Singapore Airlines uses on the 777. I think I made a friend.

I studied for a few more hours, even though Gandalf had planted of the knowledge I needed. I just felt more comfortable "hitting the books" so to speak. Lunch came soon enough and I completely enjoyed the braised soya flavored duck with yam rice. I gave up on the mimosas for lunch and switched to some very nice white wine, which I continued to nurse after lunch.

I napped and studied for the next several hours, getting up at one point to walk the length of the plane. I also received a visit from another member of the flight crew who wanted to see my Jeppesen, during which time he fished for an invitation to visit and fly in Bangkok. He offered to give me a tour of the flight deck after we were on the ground in London, but I explained I had an appointment and would be deplaning as quickly as possible, but I did invite him and any of the other flight crew members to visit in Bangkok. Friends like these could prove handy in the future.

Soon it was dinner, where I indulged on pan-seared Chilean bass in bouillabaisse broth with capsicum confit and zucchini pasta. It was another home run in terms of inflight dining.

There were only a few hours of flight time left, and I spent that time with my nose buried in the Electronic Flight Bag growing more and more confident of my previously non-existent piloting skills. As I stopped to think about it, in exchange for entertaining and enriching the Aliens, any of my dreams and fantasies could come true. I had truly fallen in the sewer and come out smelling like roses.

Soon enough it was time to stow my gear and enjoy the flawless landing at London's Heathrow Airport. As soon as we pulled up to the gate the standard announcement was made telling everyone to remain in their seats until we were released by representatives of Her Majesty's Government. Less than a minute into the wait the lead flight attendant came to my seat and asked me to gather all my belongings and follow her. Follow I did, and I was introduced the a mid-level government drone who rattled off a bunch of claptrap about how pleased Her Majesty's Government was to have me here in London, that he was my personal facilitator, and if I would kindly follow him I would quickly be on my way. He all but kissed my ass, and I'm certain he would have if I had dropped my trousers and made the request.

As we deplaned, he offered to take my carry-on, but I declined. He inquired if I had any checked baggage, I explained that I did not, which earned me a raised eyebrow. Once we were in the terminal we hopped on a waiting electric cart and were driven directly to customs and immigration, where we were waved through with hardly more than a glance at my passport.

I could get used to this.

My personal drone offered to drive me to my destination or the U.S. Embassy, but I declined, telling him I appreciated his kind offer, but I had my own ground transportation arranged, and sure enough, there appeared a gentleman in full chauffer livery, holding a sign with my name on it. I nodded in acknowledgement, thanked my drone, accepted his offered business card, and handed my driver my bag. I wonder what the drone would have done if I told him I was in desperate need of a blow job. Oh well.

Once I was safely ensconced in the back of the silver Rolls Royce limousine that was parked at the curb, I asked my driver if he knew who had made my arrangements. He rummaged through his papers and told me it was the firm of Watson and Gandalf, and I knew I was in the right hands. The driver, George, asked if I wanted to go directly to my hotel, or if I had another destination in mind. I told him the hotel was fine, thank you.

He took me to the private entrance to the Hotel Soho and said that I would be met inside the door. He opened my car door and helped me out and started to carry my bag inside, but I told him it was light and I could easily manage. I asked about payment arrangements and he explained that the cost of his service and a most generous gratuity had already been provided, and he thanked me for the opportunity to provide transportation. I got a card form him and told him I would call him directly if I needed to go anywhere. He said that there were four cars in operation within his family, and that if he was busy, one of his brothers or his father would take great care of me.

I walked up the short canopied walkway and a doorman dressed in top hat and tails opened the door where I was immediately greeted by a man claiming to be the hotel manager. He went on and on about how delighted he was to meet me, and said he would take me up to the private apartment I had reserved. I acted like I knew what he was talking about and he unlocked a door simply bearing the number six. He explained there were four private two bedroom apartments numbered two, three, five and six. Two and five were nearly identical, as were three and six. I nodded as if it made sense, signed a few papers, and he left me with a couple of sets of keys, along with a pair of charge cards for use within the hotel. He explained it would take a day or so for everyone on staff to recognize me on sight, at which point the use of the cards would not be necessary.

I thanked him and slipped him some folded cash to show my appreciation and to guarantee continued good service. He scurried away with cash in pocket and a song in his tiny little heart.

Once again my First Alien Enterprises Wallet came in handy. No conversion from Thai Baht to British Pounds. Just open the wallet and the right cash is there.

I settled into one of the bedrooms and generally made myself at home. My Blackberry rang and it was Jerry stating he was about 5 minutes out. I told him I'd meet him in the main lobby. I headed on down and had just settled in when he came through the door. I greeted him like a long lost brother and took him up to the apartment.

"Nice digs."

"Make yourself at home, dump your junk in the bedroom to the left, grab a few cold brews out of the refrigerator, and I'll give you a mission briefing. Your key to this joint is on the counter."

"Sure thing," he said and vanished into the unoccupied bedroom. Jerry returned in a few minutes with a couple of bottles of cold beer and plunked down on the end of the couch. "I got to be honest, Gunner, there was a point in time when I thought you were full of shit."

"I bet that prepaid debit card sure helped change your mind," I replied.

"You bet your ass, and the flight arrangements were great. It beats the hell out of a transpacific run deep in coach, with the pigs, chickens and sheep."

"Oh, c'mon Jerry, United Airlines isn't that bad."

"Not by much," he grinned.

"Hey, look, while you are still in a little bit of disbelief, and waiting for the other shoe to drop, I want to totally and absolutely blow your mind. All I ask is that you let me finish my story before interrupting or leaving."

 
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