Chapter 1: Mile High

-- THURSDAY, JUNE 15, 2006 --

The cool evening air was made even colder by brisk winds flowing in from the Bay, and though I was loathe to leave, I knew we shouldn't dawdle on the curb. Closing the driver's door of Adrienne's new silver Porsche Cayenne, I immediately went to the trunk to retrieve our luggage while Adrienne and Sasha both got out on the passenger side and began hugging their goodbyes.

There was a lot of luggage. Even though we'd only be gone for little more than a week, "traveling light" apparently wasn't in Adrienne's vocabulary. I'd known her since we were 10-year-olds growing up on the same suburban street. But now the 21-year-old blonde bombshell with hazel eyes and killer curves was a big time supermodel, appearing on the covers of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition and the Victoria's Secret Catalog. She'd mingled with the stars and made friends with powerful people like Taylor Brynn and Jonathan Kwong. Her magnificent cleavage was perhaps the most lusted after in the world, and one never knew when a lurking paparazzo might take her picture and splash it all over the news, especially in Manhattan. So she had to be prepared for any occasion, and rather than bother to meticulously plan out her daily outfits, she had seemingly decided to bring half her wardrobe for the trip.

Fortunately, life as a world famous model paid pretty well, and Adrienne had already arranged for the airline's VIP Service. An airline concierge greeted us on the curb and a skycap took over unloading duties, so I turned my attention to my actual girlfriend.

"Mmm-wah! Have a great flight!" Sasha kissed me, smiled, and leaned back in to nuzzle her nose against mine.

I grinned and was about to crack some joke or another, but a lump suddenly formed in my throat and my eyes got moist as I realized this would be my first extended absence from Sasha since she moved in. I quickly pulled my girlfriend into a bear hug and squeezed her tight. "I love you. I'll miss you," I mumbled into her ear.

"I know," she replied with a giggle. "Me, too. But don't worry about me; I'll be well taken care of this weekend."

I chuckled and pulled back far enough to look her in the eyes. "Tell Andie and the girls I said 'hi'."

"Will do."

"And I'll call you when I can."

Sasha snorted and gave me a wry grin. "Sure, whenever you come up for air between rounds of drowning in fresh model pussy."

I rolled my eyes. "This IS a work trip, remember. I've got a lot to prove that I'm a capable individual; that I truly deserve a job at Jonathan Kwong Enterprises and didn't just get it because my 'girlfriend' is chummy with the boss' wife."

Sasha's grin widened. "And you'll prove that just fine on Monday when you go into the office for the first time. But you're landing tomorrow and spending a whole weekend hanging out with HER." She jerked a thumb at Adrienne for emphasis.

I chuckled and shook my head. "True enough."

Sasha pulled me back to her for another kiss, and when I stepped away, Adrienne grabbed Sasha for one more 'goodbye' kiss of her own, every bit as passionate as mine. The girls murmured their endearments to each other, everyone waved, and Sasha headed around to the driver's side of the Porsche while Adrienne and I walked into the terminal.

Airport security would already have been a breeze this late in the evening, but our airline concierge escorted us through even faster. Then, rather than board the plane with the rest of the priority access customers, Adrienne and I stayed in the Airline Lounge until pretty much everyone else had boarded. And only at the last minute did our concierge escort us to the gate and usher us onto the plane just before they closed the doors. Our seats, 2H and 2J, were literally the first two against the bulkhead on the right side of the plane, and we more or less sat down without anybody getting a good look at Adrienne's face.

Even if someone had, Adrienne wore a black newsboy cap and aviator sunglasses which prevented easy identification. She also took the window seat, and while I noticed a middle-aged businessman in the center aisle letting his eyes roam up and down her spectacular figure (impossible to completely hide even in a knee-length coat), by the time the flight attendants began their safety briefing she was virtually ignored.

I'd been a little nervous about the whole VIP service thing. I'd never flown First or Business Class before or even been in an airline lounge, let alone gotten a special escort from the curb through security and to the gate. I kept thinking that other people were looking at us, wondering who we were while watching us bypass the "normal people" lines and have some guy in a suit wearing airline logos lead us around. Rather than give me a sense of elite privacy, the whole thing only made me feel embarrassed and put in the spotlight.

Adrienne, of course, acted like it was the most normal thing in the world. She knew the drill, followed after our escort, and held my hand the whole time, which was reassuring. She wasn't shy about chatting with me whenever we had some privacy, and her air of nonchalance about the whole situation helped put me at ease.

Still, it was obvious Adrienne was going out of her way to avoid identification, even more so because of the minor media storm that had erupted after our May 6th adventures. So whenever we were within view of the public, she didn't talk to me and her gaze remained fixed forward with a business-like expression. Even aboard the plane and buckled into her seat, she didn't remove the cap or sunglasses. Cognizant of the passengers around us within earshot, we didn't speak much either. And despite the comparative luxury of sitting First Class instead of back with all the rest of the cattle, in that moment I felt nothing but sorry for my dearly beloved "sister" having to jump through all these hoops every time she wanted to fly somewhere.

Takeoff was uneventful, and once the plane leveled out the main lights were turned off to let people sleep during our red-eye flight. The Captain also turned off the seatbelt sign, and our flight attendant arrived to take our drink orders. But rather than lean over me from the aisle, the pretty brunette with light brown eyes slid between the bulkhead and our seats and crouched down. "Hey A.D.," she greeted warmly with a broad smile for my traveling companion. "It's been a while since I last saw you on this route."

Smiling back and removing her sunglasses, Adrienne nodded and replied, "Hey Shalane. Yeah, long time no see. I wanted to spend more time with my boyfriend here. Ben, Shalane ... Shalane, Ben."

"Ah, the infamous Ben! Very pleased to meet you." The flight attendant shook my hand and gave me a beaming smile. "A.D. has told me so much about you."

I blinked in surprise. "Oh she has, has she?"

Shalane chuckled warmly. "Oh, yeah. It's always 'Ben-this' and 'Ben-that'. Always so excited to see you when she's flying into SFO and dreamily nostalgic when she's flying out. I worked her flight after Valentine's Day last year, back before she was quite so famous. The whole flight she gave us the lurid details about the night she spent with you and completely forgot to mention her first appearance in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. Biggest break of her career and all she could talk about was you."

I smirked and glanced over at Adrienne, who was shaking her head and blushing a bit as she stared out the window. It was quite rare to see her embarrassed, but I didn't tease her. I knew how important I was to her, and how important she was to me, despite our lack of formal boyfriend/girlfriend titles. It didn't surprise me that she'd tell these flight attendants about me, and even though we now maintained an even closer 'sibling' relationship, I knew that for the next week or so I'd have to get used to the idea of people seeing us as boyfriend and girlfriend. So I simply reached out and squeezed my 'girlfriend's' hand as I replied, "Yeah well I always missed her, too."

Shalane smiled at us and looked back at Adrienne, asking, "Your usual?"

Adrienne sat up. "No, actually. Just a ginger ale for me."

Shalane looked perplexed. "A ginger ale? For you?"

Adrienne shrugged. "Yeah, I'm good. But mix Ben up a Manhattan."

I arched an eyebrow at her.

Adrienne grinned. "Never had a First Class flight before? Drinks are free. Enjoy it and mellow out, huh?"

"Then what about you?"

"Believe me. I've had plenty of cocktails aboard these flying tin cans."

Shalane chuckled. "That she has, but not tonight. One ginger ale, one Manhattan: coming right up."

After bringing us our drinks, Shalane went about taking care of her other First and Business Class passengers. After she left, I took a sip of my Manhattan and quietly asked Adrienne about her apparent familiarity with our flight attendant. Adrienne explained that she'd made friends with most of the regular flight attendants who handled her frequent trips, and they usually went out of their way to help shield her from unwanted attention. Some of them had come and gone, moving on to different routes while others took their place. But Shalane was someone she'd first met two years ago and been seeing off and on ever since.

Leaning close, I had to ask, "So have you and her ever met up outside of an airplane?"

Adrienne smiled at my innuendo. "Yes, but not like you might think. I've hung out with her and a few other flight attendant girlfriends in New York, but Shalane's 100% straight."

I held up my cocktail. "She seemed surprised you got a non-alcoholic soda."

Adrienne shrugged. "I usually have a couple of drinks on these flights, partially to pass the time with a nice buzz instead of just feeling lonely and dreaming of you."

I frowned. "Has it really been so bad? I find it hard to believe you'd ever feel lonely if you didn't want to be. Surely you can pick up a conversation quite easily, even on a plane."

She shook her head. "First Class passengers are either businessmen or rich couples, and I can't get seated with a couple. I get hit on too much when I have a seatmate, so I usually pick that middle seat over there." Adrienne gestured past me to the solitary First Class seat in this 2-1-2 configuration. "Then I either keep to myself or chat with the flight attendants, like Shalane. They usually let me hang out in the crew area with them on daytime flights. I just sleep if it's a red-eye like tonight."

I nodded. "Speaking of which, we should get some rest ourselves, huh? It's already what, almost 2 in the morning in New York?"

Adrienne grinned at me. "We will, of course. But not just yet. Tell me you haven't seriously thought about the opportunity here."

I frowned, not yet understanding. "Opportunity?"

"You and me ... on an airplane ... a certain club that only admits members at a certain elevation above the ground?"

I blushed and took a rather big gulp of my Manhattan. Glancing around a little nervously, I muttered, "Do people really DO that? Of course you hear the stories, but it seems awfully hard to not get noticed, you know? Aren't we supposed to be keeping a low profile? The media would have a field day if we got caught. There's only one lavatory up front. And people are bound to notice that two seats are empty at the same time."

"Everyone'll be asleep. Nobody's gonna notice."

"The flight attendants will surely notice."

"Of course they will, but they'll also help us out. None of those women are going to judge me, and it's not as hard as you'd think to avoid getting noticed by everyone else. Most everyone in this cabin is going to be unconscious in another half-hour, and even if this ends up on Celebrity Sightings, sex sells. C'mon, Tiger, I wanna join the Mile High Club. It's my first chance."

I arched an eyebrow and narrowed my eyes. "Your first chance? Somehow I rather doubt that. Even if not with Shalane, you're talking like you've already pulled this off before."

Adrienne blushed and looked away for a moment. "Well ... my first chance with a guy, alright?"

I sighed, but Adrienne had already slipped a hand into my pants and wrapped her cool fingers around my half-erect rod. Though I was nervous about the whole thing, any opportunity to have sex with Adrienne was quite arousing to begin with. And the idea of joining the Mile High Club made it even more exciting. "So how do we do this?"

Adrienne beamed. "Trust me."

"This is crazy," I muttered.

"Shut up and stay quiet," Adrienne shot right back as she gripped my shaft in her right hand, swabbed my mushroom head through her vaginal cleft, and slowly leaned her weight back to sit down in my lap and impale herself on my upright cock for the second time tonight.

That's right, I said second time.

The first time had been while taking the traditional path to getting membership in the Mile High Club: in the aircraft lavatory. Adrienne had gotten up first, chatted in the galley area with Shalane and the other First Class flight attendant until the businessman occupying the lavatory exited, and then she went in and locked the door.

Once she was inside, Shalane closed the curtain at the end of the B/D aisle, which was both my signal to get up and an extra deterrent to another passenger interrupting us. So I chugged what remained of my Manhattan for liquid courage, went through the galley to the other side of the plane, and knocked on the lavatory door, muttering, "It's me."

Adrienne popped the door open, looked over my shoulder to wink at Shalane behind me, and jerked me inside by my collar.

Our Mile High initiation had been fast, with no foreplay needed and neither of us delaying our orgasms. Adrienne was already soaking wet in anticipation, and she bent over and stuck her ass back at me while I locked the lavatory door. It was an easy matter to lift her skirt and pull aside the strap of her panties, and I shoved my dick into her from behind within fifteen seconds of closing the door.

Adrienne came quickly. The naughtiness of the situation and the mental high of fucking at thirty-two thousand feet had her primed to blow even before I entered her. And within two minutes of aggressive thrusting plus my hands pawing at her massive tits, Adrienne's whole body shuddered in a climax so intense that she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream that Shalane could probably still hear from outside.