Chapter 31: Mile High Club - Prepping For Vegas Trip

Mark

There is some kind of mystique about the Mile High Club. To become an ‘official’ member, you need to fuck somebody in an airplane. I was a member. Elsa, Cindy, Sheila, and Melanie were members. The rest of the vacationers riding home on my custom 737 from Puerto Vallarta were not members when they got on the plane.

Carter started things once we at altitude by raising the subject with KC – who also was not a member. The two of them decided that would be a fun thing to do.

My large plane – the 737 – had a stateroom at the rear of the plane with a large bed in it. I have used it on transcontinental and transoceanic trips to sleep. During the three-hour flight back home, my bed had an entirely different purpose. It was the birthplace of multiple memberships in the Mile High Club.

Carter and KC started things off, but there were more guys who weren’t members than girls, so KC wanted some company. After they’d been fucking for a while, KC came out from the stateroom completely naked and asked whether anybody else wanted a chance to join before she showered. There was damn near stampede to the back of the plane.

Brita and Margo joined her as well ... The three women became the cum buckets for Carter, Deke, Ryan, Mike, James, Andy, and Tom – all potential new club members. Since there wasn’t a lot of room in the back, most of the clothing got removed up where the rest of us were sitting. The naked acolytes of high altitude sex then joined the throng at the rear of the plane and the serious fucking began.

The rest of us – already members in good standing in one of the most exclusive clubs in the world – sat outside and talked and listed to moans, groans, shrieks, giggles, and laughter coming through the open door to the stateroom.

Occasionally, Elsa would get up and peer through the door to see what was going on, often after some unusual shout or sound. She’d come back and sit beside me, but report in some way to all of us; something like, “Brita has James in her mouth and Carter in her pussy,” “Margo is being DPed by Deke and Tom,” or “KC has both Ryan and Mike’s cocks in her cunt – double vaginal. They are looking really hot.” Of course, she’d look again five or ten minutes later, and the whole configuration would change – different people with different people, and different sex acts. Mostly the group in there stayed two guys on one girl.

Elsa reported that the three women were very happy with the state of affairs. An excess of swapping partners also occurred, so that every guy got to fuck each of the three women, in some cases over and over again. My plane had never seen that much sex.

We started our descent to City Airport about thirty minutes before landing. The engines made a decided change in pitch, and the plane nosed over slightly. After that, one by one, the newest members of the Mile High Club came out of the stateroom after having used the tiny shower in the rear bathroom. Everyone looked bright eyed and bushy tailed, as my father used to say.

When all ten of them were with us, Elsa broke out a bottle of champagne and little plastic flutes. We all had a toast to the club and new members, gave a cheer for sex, and then settled down for the last of our approach and landing. Our vacation was over.

We soon stood at the bottom of the aircraft stairs parting ways with some of our group. Melanie had arranged a limousine to take the five young men in our group to their homes: Carter, Deke, James, Mike, and Ryan. Andy and Margo had a separate limo and security at that point. Tom and Brita were staying with me, as well as my other five ‘wives.’ There were also the security teams, although three war wagons had come to escort the limousines to their destinations.

The English language needs an expanded vocabulary for group situations. I have ‘sister wives, ‘ like that TV show, only they aren’t sisters or wives. The women are all my girlfriends, but that understates the significance they represent to me. The closest word is wife, but you’re only legally allowed one of those. Men don’t normally talk about their wives, unless they’re like me with six of them, in which case that’s a misnomer. Did the Mormons have some special vocabulary that they hid from the outside world?

I ruminated on the different ways I could describe what had happened and who I was with to some of the other people I worked with. Saying I was with my six girlfriends on vacation is kind of a show stopper unless someone knows what the situation is with us. Oh, and then there’s Margo. What should I say, ‘Oh, yes, I was also making love to one of the wives that came along.’ Now that really sounds indicting.

We rode into the downtown area in a matter of minutes. Sunday evening traffic was very light. As we came into the condominium from the elevator Barnes greeted us. He and Elsa had talked, and the result was a tasty set of hors d’oeuvres and then a buffet meal for the eight of us.

We reminisced about the vacation, each of us recalling a high point or two. I blushed when Elsa and Melanie cited The Experience from me as a high point. Cindy especially enjoyed a poolside gangbang where all eight men had fucked her to one frantic climax after another as the rest of the women looked on and jeered at her. Brita had never made love on the beach before with the water lapping under the chaise. Sheila spoke of fucking Mike and Ryan while they had one of the little sailboats about a mile offshore. KC spoke of an unusual threesome with the only married couple on the trip – Andy and Margo. Elsa and Cindy both added in the time with Lucas. Tom found himself with three girls when he was at his horniest; he managed to satisfy all three. I cited the ring ceremony at the restaurant when KC and Brita joined our circle of love, and Margo was included, and then the special night we shared after that.

After some more conversation and drinks after our great dinner, Tom collected Cindy and Sheila and headed off to the guest room for the night. The two girls looked very happy to go with the vibrant man.

I had my other four ‘wives’ and we had a smooth time slipping into showers and bed. Yes, I made love with all of them, had sex with two as the other two made love, and then we slept.

The next morning, Tom, Sheila, Melanie, Brita, and I were in the office by seven o’clock. I’d set up a couple of meetings for Tom, and he went off for those. I tasked Melanie with sorting our notes from our brainstorming sessions in Mexico into various types of action item lists. I didn’t have to explain much; she was one very smart cookie.

Sheila went off to tend to a week’s worth of accumulated mail, email, and action items coming to my office that had been collected and hopefully organized by the temporary staff that HR had provided for the time we were away. If the past was prolog, she’d handle about ninety-nine percent of it without my further involvement.

Brita and I started a meeting with nine other executives associated with our pharmacological and medical devices divisions. I had a couple of pages of notes I’d made during our time in Mexico, so was full of ideas to test on my cohorts. Brita also had about fifty major ideas to toss around too. I wondered what they thought about the two of us sitting with them with deep dark all-over tans.

We met until noon when a catered lunch arrived in my office for the eleven of us in the meeting. We were making some great strides in redesigning our part of the organization, redeploying some of our management and professional talent, and integrating Danskpharma into part of Worthington, and part of Worthington into Danskpharma.

When we had a moment aside I asked Brita whether she was happy with the direction we were taking. She assured me that what we were proposing and implementing far exceeded her expectations for our mutual association.

In a further whispered aside, Brita said, “By the way, handsome men with great ideas who manage the way you do make me wet. I hope you plan to make love to me later because right about now sex with you is my prime concern.”

I stole a kiss since we were alone. I told her, “You know there are a few rules for the females around this office. You might check with Melanie or Sheila about those.”

During our afternoon break, Brita disappeared for ten minutes along with the other executives to tend to calls and other crises. When we started to reconvene, Brita handed me a large manila envelope that was bulging slightly.

I opened the envelope and looked inside. There were the lacey light green panties that Brita had put on that morning, and a whiff of her aroma overtook my nostrils and gave me an instant hard-on. I smiled at her, but quickly closed the envelope so the others in our meeting wouldn’t get too curious and peer over my shoulder at what was inside.

Brita smiled at me and whispered so the others couldn’t hear, “I’m just trying to adhere to the rules for women in your office. I believe commando is what I heard you call it in Mexico. Melanie said she was never allowed to wear undies. Sheila validated that claim. I like your rules.” She gave me a lewd grin.

I put the envelope in my top drawer. As I did I saw pairs of undies from Sheila and Melanie from weeks earlier when we started my informal dress code. I love compliant women.

Elsa

“Elsa, we hate to do this to you right after you come back from vacation, but we need you to go with Sean out to Las Vegas and play the role of his assistant. The city commission out there is challenging the entire design of the large condominium complex we put together for Baker Consortium. You worked on all of the design, structural calculations, and safety elements, so know the material inside out and backwards. Unfortunately, you’re not an architect, but Sean is, so he’ll actually front for you with the commission. I hate to put it that way since you know so much more than he does about this stuff, but ... well, you do and they want a licensed architect there.”