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!



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.

.... There is more of this story ...

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