Mile High Club - the Reality

by Dr. Paco Jones

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, True Story, First, Oral Sex, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Bobby was flying the red-eye from Tampa to San Diego. On the first leg, which stopped in Houston he was the only passenger in First Class. He had the stew all to himself. She had plans, which ultimately ended in both joining the Mile High Club. The story is true; unfortunately this is the real ending.

Authors note:

This is essentially a true story. The ending kind of sucks, but sometimes real life sucks. I've written a "sequel" called "Mile High and Beyond" which has a different ending – the ending that I would have much preferred.

Alas, it was not meant to be.

As a partial explanation, the "letter" at the end of this story is a personal thing. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my pea brain, I hope the woman in the story will read it, recognize it, and if possible contact me. It's my fantasy and I'm entitled to it!

pj

Prelude:

It was in the late 70's and I was flying back to San Diego after teaching a 3-week course for engineers in Largo Florida.

I'm a contract instructor and it had been a very long 3 weeks, and I was ready for some R&R, but it wasn't to be.

I'm certainly not complaining.


I was getting on a Continental Airlines Boeing 727. It was a red-eye on a Friday night after teaching a group of engineers for 3 weeks. I taught them how their machine really worked, and I was flat burned out. This was the first leg; Tampa to Houston.

At the time, 1st class seats were the same cost as regular coach on a red-eye, so I'd booked my flight out and back on red-eyes. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to take advantage of 1st class accommodations.

I'm certainly happy I did.

I was on expenses, and could have flown 1st class at full boat, but I have a policy of never gouging a client on expense reports. My hourly wage was gouge enough, and the clients noted and appreciated that I wasn't trying to stick it to them. They could see that I was flying coach fare, didn't room at five star hotels, and ate inexpensively. It made for good relationships, good references, and a whole lot of return business.

I'm single and go home to an empty house so it certainly didn't hurt me any.

But with all that said, first class is the only way to fly!

When I boarded the flight in Tampa, I was greeted by a very stunning young lady who escorted me to my seat. Her brilliant green eyes had me mesmerized already. There was no pretense in her smile. It was big and it was beautiful. You could literally see the smile in her sparkling eyes. This was one happy woman.

I was put about 3 rows from the front at the window and while I was settling in, she introduced herself as Janice I nodded, and before I could properly introduce myself she asked me if I'd like a drink before take off.

I ordered my standard double Jack Daniels on the rocks. I knew that even in first class there was zero chance that Gentleman's Jack was available, so I asked for the standard fare and sat back to relax for the first time in weeks.

She turned towards the galley and had to stop a couple times to avoid some of the other passengers that were making their way towards the back of the plane. She disappeared into a doorway and I heard the clink, tinkle of ice being dropped into a glass; a real glass not one of those plastic things they give you in coach. A few seconds later she popped out of the doorway and sliding in between boarding passengers made her way back to my seat.

She handed me my drink with a big smile. There was a look in her eyes telling me she was "checking me out". I was totally flattered!!

As the other passengers boarded and worked their way to their seats I noticed that I seemed to be the only passenger in 1st class. This was the only first leg for me, which would be a bit over 3 hours to Houston where the crew would continue on to Seattle and I'd scramble to find my gate for San Diego.

After what seemed like a really long time, the door was finally closed and sealed at which point the cabin attendants, they were stews in those days, began their usual safety speeches. I got personal attention, because as it turned out, I was the only 1st class passenger and had the attendant all to myself. Little did I know.

Janice was a very pretty young lady, typical of the pre-PC, woman's lib contingent of airline cabin employees. Essentially that means, unlike on flights today, she was looking good!

That doesn't mean that today's crews are not attractive, but anyone who flew in the 60's and still flies today will confirm; there is a significant difference in cabin attendants both in appearance and quality of service. Both have gone to hell in a hand basket.

I digress; back to Janice. I'd guess she was about 5'6" tall, maybe 110 lbs. and couldn't have been more than about 19 or 20, fresh out of High School and Stewardess training. If you've never read "Coffee, Tea, or Me" you've missed out. If you fly a lot, find a copy and have a bunch of laughs! It's extremely well written – at least I think it is. But it is also very dated! (like in old)

Her penetrating emerald green eyes were amazingly intensified by her very long, darkish, natural blond hair. You could tell that if she spent some time on the beach she'd look like a typical California "surfer girl"; a wet dream "on the hoof".

Dropping well past her waist, her shiny hair was tied back into a neat ponytail with a multicolored scrunchie. It would swish gently back and forth as she walked up and down the isle.

Usually stews with hair that long put it up so that it didn't get in the way. Most had cut it much shorter so it was less hassle to deal with.

Having had hair nearly as long as Janice's I can understand that completely. Hair is a pain in the ass, but "Locks of Love" is very appreciative when I donate my hair so they can make more wigs for cancer patients and others needing hair pieces. I still grow it for them today.

Having a natural beauty about her, she didn't use much makeup to enhance that incredible look. She used just enough eyeliner to accent those deep green eyes. I'm one of those men that appreciates the stark contrast between a woman's natural appearance and those attempted cosmetics contests in which some of the others seemed entered, much to their detriment.

She was small topside, sporting smallish but pert breasts. I'd guess they were on the side of small B's, which is the absolute perfect size to suck me into the spider's web. I love members of the "itty bitty titty committee"!

It's unfortunate that women seem to be raised with this false sense that all guys will ever see on them is their chest. Granted, a lot of guys are that shallow, and do treat women like a pair of tits. It's part of the flawed wiring men are born with.

I've been told that I have a "different" view of women than most guys. It's probably due to having lived with 4 gay women for a couple years earlier in my adult life. That experience certainly gave me a much different perspective than they can ever hope to get from most males. It's interesting that I totally agreed with their assessment of "men" when I got there. Their reasons for feeling the way they did were firmly cemented the longer I stayed.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still a guy with all of those failings, but to me women should be appreciated and loved, not viewed as a slab of meat. But my brain was rewired by 4 caring, loving, patient women.

You have to understand first off that the male brain is not wired the same as a female brain.

Oh really? What gives you the first clue?

I don't think I need to expound on that statement. It should be rather obvious to anyone with at least half of either type.

Mens wiring is primal. Extremely primitive. The purpose of the male since the cave man is to make sure women get pregnant and continue the species. As a quick side note, I've always said that if men had to give birth, the species would have died out centuries ago!! We're wimps, and I'm the first to admit it!

But back to the point I'm trying to make here. The male brains wiring essentially says, find woman, get it up, stick it in, shoot it off, roll over and go to sleep!

Am I right ladies??

It's an unfortunate turn, but realistically if you are a woman and want a man to do more than what that primitive wiring tells him to do, you need to do some rewiring!! It's not really all that difficult, and if it is, find another man!! Easy stuff!

You have to train your man. What floats your boat? Make him float it!! Point him in the right direction; but again, if he balks, or doesn't learn, find another guy.

Here's a good test ladies. This one definitely separates the men from the boys!!

Give your man a great blow job. I mean, work it to death, swallow everything he has to offer, lick your lips and then move up to kiss him. If he won't kiss you after receiving that kind of pleasure, find another man!!!

He expects you to kiss him when he's finsihed licking your pussy for, it better be, two or three visits to orgasm world and has "you" spread all over his face.

Oh. He doesn't do that? Find another man!!! There's plenty of us out here!

The bottom line is that sex is very different for a man than it is for a woman. Holy shit, another masterfully enlightening statement!!

Hear me out...

For a woman sex is 90% emotional, and only 10% physical. For a man, it's exactly the opposite, and I'm sure that surprises none of the women folk out there. For sex, a woman needs a reason; a man, only a place!

And that's the fundamental difference that every woman needs to overcome. Sad but true!

The whole big boob issue really comes from the "Barbie Doll" and "Playboy" magazine syndrome that pushes onto women the false image that a double "D" is required to be considered sexy. Let's face it; Hef likes tits.

Not true ladies. Having dated girls with huge breasts and girls with small breasts, I'll take the smaller chest any day. Biggies somehow seem to get in the way.

It also supports a huge plastic surgery industry that creates a whole other false image. A beautiful woman, with perfectly gorgeous breasts thinks she needs to have them "enhanced".

Enough soapbox. I just get so tired of beautiful women deforming themselves because of some bullshit societal edict stating that "If you don't have double D's you ain't shit!!" So fucking wrong, on so many planes!!!!!!

Back to the beautiful Janice!

Janice's ass was incredible in the tight skirts they had to wear and her legs were so perfect there was no need for hose. When she walked up and down the isle, that sweet ass just had me hypnotized as her ponytail swished back and forth giving it a gentle massage.

Needless to say I suppose, is I'm definitely an ass man. If asked what I notice first on a woman I can honestly say, "Her smile, Her eyes, then her ass," pretty much in that order. Unless of course, she's walking away from me.

Tiny titties and a pert bubble butt; Yummy!

Of course one of my male brains, the little one, was splashing around in the gutter almost immediately. Janice was what would be considered by most an all around stone fox. Her "body style" couldn't be more perfect for my liking, and it didn't hurt that she was cute as a bug.

She turned and smiled brightly like she could read my mind. Then surprised the hell out of me, "Would you like another drink before we start our taxi, Mr. Jones", she asked in a hushed voice? "I'm really supposed to collect the glasses before takeoff, but you're the only passenger in my section so I'm not going to worry about it. Nobody will know except you and me."

Shaking her head, smiling and with a soft giggle, "I'm so bad."

"Sure. I'd like that," I replied, "But please, call me Bob or preferably Bobby. When someone calls me Mr. Jones I tend to look around wondering why my father is here."

She giggled again momentarily, while her mind seemed to go somewhere else for a second. A far away look I could recognize because of my own continual "mental wanderings". I have ADHD so my brain does all kinds of interesting things, sometimes at inopportune moments.

I put on a sincere smile, "It looks like it's just you and me and I'm hardly a demanding, high maintenance passenger."

She grinned widely and turned around to retrieve my drink. I couldn't help but notice that gorgeous rear end swaying above her legs. When she came back she had the glass with ice and two miniature bottles of JD.

She reached over to put them on my tray and surprising me again, started to twist off the tops off the tiny bottles and poured the contents over the ice.

When she'd finished with that she asked dreamily, "May I sit next to you for takeoff? I'm supposed to strap in to the jump-seat, but they're so uncomfortable." CLUE!!!

"You need to ask," I thought to myself? Come into my web said the spider to the fly. Hey. One can have fantasies; even on an airplane! Especially in those days...

"By all means. Please. Make yourself comfortable. As I said, it's just you and me, so there's no need to be your usual formal self. Even if it is the rules, rules are meant to be bent," I chuckled giving her a sly smile.

I wondered out loud how long she'd been a stew and was a little taken aback when she told me three years. She didn't look old enough to have been working flights for three years, but she obviously knew which rules could be bent a little. That "skill" doesn't come with newbies. I about fell out of my seat when she told me she was twenty-one.

The pilot proceeded to taxi out, and prepared for the take-off roll. The ding-dong sounded letting the crew know that take off was imminent and that, by now, they needed be strapped into their seats.

She slid in close, strapped in, then leaned in placing her head gently against my upper arm. I looked at her and saw a very contented smile on her young, elfin face.

Smiling, I raised my tray and locked it in place behind the seat in front of me, while punching the button to raise my seat back to "the full upright position". She looked at me with a smile that could kill, and giggled.

Nobody can say I didn't follow the rules. Well, some of them anyway.

I always love take-off, that feeling of being pressed back into the seat and then, in a 727 especially, the nose high attitude. I'm a pilot myself and have done a lot of aerobatic flying. I just love those "G" forces. Aero is a roller coaster in the sky.

As we climbed out, Janice remained glued to my side. She had taken one hand and put it on my upper arm holding on to me and when I looked at her, there was a sensuality in the gorgeous green eyes that were looking at me. Clue!

This young lady was a very different kind of woman. She had a spiritual aura about her that I hadn't sensed in many other women. It was a lively spirit I could literally feel trying to join with mine. Without hesitation I let her in.

I'd always had pretty good luck and a lot of fun with stewardesses throughout my commercial flying experiences, especially during my time in the service. There's definitely some interesting stories in those experiences. Maybe I'll write some of them.

Normally I'm an extremely shy guy. For some reason I feel very intimidated by a woman. It may go back to my basic training, which involved being badly abused by my first "female role model."

Somehow these ladies could get past that initial shyness and bring out that real person inside of me. Once the ice is broken I'm good to go, but it's that initial introduction that fails me most of the time. Most all of the stews I've met had a way about them that put me at ease immediately. Yeah. I know, it's their job!

I heard the "ding" that signaled to the cabin crew that they could start their routines, and the "fasten seat belts" sign turned off. When Janice unsnapped her belt, she leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

With a shy smile she whispered, "Thanks Bobby. That was really nice. Clue!!

"Can I get you another drink," noting that my glass was about empty?

"Uh ... Nooo thank you," drawing it out a little. "Not right now thanks. If I drink much more I'll be too tipsy to enjoy your company. A ginger ale would be cool."

"Ok. Ginger ale it is," she said giving me wry smile.

"If you'd like, I can get you a meal now that we're airborne, then we can just relax for the rest of the flight," she said with an interesting sparkle in those dancing green eyes. Unbeknownst to me, she was sucking me right in. Clue!!

"I'd like ... Sounds good to me, what's on the menu for today?"

She listed off a couple things, but the Chicken Cordon Bleu sounded the best, and when she brought it there were two on the plate.

I must have given her a funny look when she set it down. "I have a dozen," she explained, "what's left over just gets thrown in the trash." Then as an aside, "so if you want more, just ask. Ok?"

I looked up and smiled; nodding my head I'd started to dig into my meal and my mouth was full. She just chuckled quietly.

After enjoying my meal, and let me tell you, first class meals were actually enjoyable in those days. I looked around and noticed that she was sitting on the floor just outside the galley doing what appeared to be some kind of candle ceremony.

I just sat and observed for a short time, then curiosity got the best of me. I had to ask her what she was doing.

She said that she was Jewish and it was some holiday or other. I don't recall which one to be honest, and she needed to finish before midnight. She was celebrating with prayer and a symbolic candle.

I took my "dishes" up to the food station for her so I didn't continue interrupting her activities.

I've always been fascinated by various religions. I study philosophies of all kinds, finding as many similarities as disparities.

With that said, even though I'm not Jewish, I unobtrusively joined her for the short time there was left in her prayers. When she was finished, her sparkling green eyes joined with mine and gave me a smile that said, "Thank you".

I went back to my seat to relax off the meal. She was humming a tune while straightening up the galley area. I watched with interest because I could see that pert ass of hers with hair just swishing back and forth as she wiped down the surfaces she had used.

While she was tweaking around she reached into a small drawer and pulled out a new, fresh toothbrush, and a travel tube of paste. Smiling warmly she walked over to my seat, and handed it to me.

Now I'd never had this happen before, but ok, I can always scrub the buckers after a meal. I stood up and made my way forward to the restroom. As I passed by the galley, she furtively looked up at me with a shy smile but kept polishing.

I'm a guy, ok? I hadn't seen the look in her eyes as I passed the galley. I didn't have clue one about the indicators I'd been given already (remember clues above?). Besides, I was tired. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

I finally wandered out of the 1st class restroom, stopped at the galley entrance watching her work. When she finally noticed me standing there I thought I saw nervousness in her eyes. Returning her smile I asked her what I should do with the used brush and paste.

"You can keep them, or I can put them in the trash bag," she said quietly holding out her hand for me to give them to her. She took them and deposited them in the trash bin. She stood back looking at her handy work and I heard a heavy sigh.

I'd returned to my seat, more or less settling in as she was finishing up with her "chores". When she was finished and everything sparkled, she went to the cabin control panel, picked up the telephone and had a quiet conversation with whoever had picked it up. While she was talking I tried not to look at her, but couldn't help but catch a couple nervous glances in my direction. Clue!

I guess whatever was said from 'beyond' was "what she wanted to hear". She had a big smile and hung up the handset. She putzed for a few moments pulling out a few of those pillows they carry and a blanket. Then she dimmed the overhead lights.

It's the red-eye. Of course you turn the lights down. Some people want to sleep. Usually on a night flight the only lights on are the overhead seat lamps that people turn on to read. Turning them down after the meal wasn't unusual. Still, not clue one!

Janice secured the first class cabin then stuck her head through the rigid curtain that separates first class from the rest of the seating. She said something to the cabin attendant responsible for the coach section. They made a few pointing gestures, laughed a bit, nodded their heads, and then she made sure the curtain between the sections was tightly closed and secured it with the latch. Latching was rather unusual, but I didn't think that much about it at the time.

She walked down to the row of seats that I was in and stopped. I looked up and smiled at her warmly, but then I noted a devilish grin on her face. She slinked into the ample space between the empty seats in front of me. Now she was directly in front of me. Say it with me; Big clue!

Looking down at me with lecherous eyes, she pulled up her skirt slightly, then reached up and slid her panties down those beautiful legs, to the floor, before deftly stepping out of them. Her eyes never left mine; while she reached down and picked them up then she set them down on my seat right next to my leg. Ok; major clue! Got it. I think!

Keeping those sparkling green eyes locked on mine, she leaned in towards me and lightly brushed her lips softly on mine. After giving me a couple soft sensuous lip locks, she got down to business and gently laid one on me opening her mouth and letting her tongue lick my lips until I opened mine to allow her entrance. Soon, we were gently devouring each others mouths, lips and tongues. This girl can kiss!

I slowly moved my hands to the outside of her thighs when she leaned in closer to me. After a few telling moans from her I began lightly caressing up her thighs to her ass. Muscular but soft, her butt was stupendous. I was in heaven, but not really pushing anything overtly yet. She was drivin'.

She gave out another low moan that I felt in my mouth more than heard as my hands softly reached then massaged her luscious buns. Slowly but deliberately, I moved hands slowly up along her sides and abdomen. I was en-route to the two small globes on her chest, but there wasn't any real rush. On my way however, I was caressing those nerve rich places that most guys ignore. Those areas over a woman's ovaries and other internal sex "facilities" that are full of pleasure points.

My hands were gently caressing the magnificent breasts they'd found, while lightly trying to pinch her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. Working just enough to stimulate, not cause any kind of discomfort. I definitely had her attention.

I heard another low moan escaping from deep in her throat while she began to open herself to me. She began to shake like a leaf. Though I didn't feel any more nervousness in her, the shaking seemed like nervous fear. Her eyes showed nothing but intense passion and longing desire, so I went with her eyes. There had to be some other reason for the shaking.

Even covered with clothing her breasts felt soft and supple. Made just right for feeding a hungry baby. I wanted to kiss, lick and suck on them, but she had other ideas for our activities in the immediate future.

She took two of the pillows off of the seat next to me and placed them on the floor between my feet. Then she lowered herself slowly onto her knees in front of me being careful to put her knees on the pillows. I needed to move my feet and legs slightly in order to fully accommodate her. Looking at me with smoky eyes through half lowered eyelids Janice reached up to undo the belt, button and zipper on my pants, moving her eyes from mine only to make sure she was not going to hurt me while lowering the zipper.

Looking up at me with the beginnings of a mischievous smile, she reached over to pull at my pants and shorts. I raised my ass off the seat, wanting to give her any assistance that I could.

I may be a guy and take forever to accumulate and interpret clues, but I think I got it now. I could pretty much guess where this was going, at least in the near term, and I wasn't going to do anything to slow her down.

Taking my now stiff member in her hands, still maintaining the direct look into my eyes, she licked slowly and softly up and down my shaft. She turned her head lower then sucked gently on my balls, and with a widening smile took my now very stiff dick into her mouth and proceeded to give me an incredible blow-job. It wasn't perfect and I could tell she hadn't done this a whole lot before, but it rated an "A+" for effort. There was no way I'd be saying anything negative. It was also quite obvious she was thoroughly enjoying what she was doing.

Her dark green eyes seemed like they were boring into my soul, and somehow I was seeing deeply into hers. I've seen a lot of women with gorgeous eyes in my lifetime, but none, and I mean none, have ever had the affect on me that Janice's did. Her eyes could literally melt me, leaving a puddle of molten Bobby at her knees.

Her head bobbed up and down and around my cock taking great care and pleasure in assuring that I'd cum in her very warm, very wet, welcoming mouth. Her hand was slowly jacking me at the same time, and it was getting close to show time.

"Janice honey, I'm going to come if you keep doing that ... Soon baby," I warned her.

She just moved her hand a little more quickly and her tongue was doing double duty on the glans, as the explosion in my balls made it to her mouth.

Her dancing eyes never moved from mine, though they did grow a bit in surprise. She swallowed every last drop, licking her lips and making sure she cleaned my cock for its next task.

"Ohmigod Janice; that was incredible," was all I could croak out.

"Really," she said with surprise in her tone? "That's the first time I've ever done that to a real one."

"No," I choked in disbelief.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Heterosexual / True Story / First / Oral Sex /