The Mile High Club (20 page)

“I’m Bert,” he said, and then extended his right hand.

She reached for it, and smiled. “I’m Betty. Nice to meet you.” When she softly squeezed his hand, their eyes met; he stared for a moment and then jerked his head and smiled. And that’s when she secretly predicted she would be able to get into his pants before the flight was over.

Bert began to tell her the story of his bad marriage, while she folded her arms across her chest and pretended to be interested. When he told her about how his ex-wife suddenly announced
one afternoon that she was bored and needed to explore her “inner self,” Betty sighed, but she was staring at the rough stubble on his jaw and wondering what it would be like to rub her soft boobs against it. And when he told her that his ex-wife decided to take a cooking class so she could learn how to make
pumpkin ravioli
and broaden her horizons, Betty just shook her head and frowned. She was really concentrating on Bert’s large fingers and wondering if his penis was just as large. He said his ex-wife was a fan of the television show “The Office,” and that she actually decided to leave him on the night he went to bed early and refused to watch the season finale with her. He pressed his hands on his knees, and asked, “How do you like that? She left because I didn’t stay up to watch the season finale of ‘The Office’…and I was freaking tired that night!”

“Ah well, there you are,” Betty said. “I guess some women want the world.” She pushed a strand of long blonde hair away from her face and smiled. But she was really wondering what kind of dumb bitch would force her poor husband to watch a TV show like “The Office
.
” She’d watched it once or twice; she hated it.

Bert lifted his right hand and waved it. “And now I can’t even get this damn ring off my finger. I’ll have to have it cut off eventually. We were married for ten years and I gained about twenty pounds since the wedding.”

“Well, there you are. What with all that pumpkin ravioli that’s understandable,” Betty said. “But I think you look fine; very athletic and strong.” She reached over and gently squeezed his bicep.

But he missed the compliment. “Oh, please. She couldn’t cook to save her own life. She only
took
cooking courses…there’s a difference.” He stretched his wide legs forward and leaned his head on the back of the seat. “I’m going to try to get some sleep;
besides, I’ve been boring you long enough. No one likes to hear ex-wife stories, and I don’t normally tell them.”

“Don’t be silly,” Betty said, “I’m happy to have the conversation.” She was always amazed at how some men never got the subtlest of hints. There she was, practically licking her lips to get a taste of what he had between his legs, and all he cared about was a nap. So she reached down to
her
lap for her purse and purposely spilled the contents between Bert’s legs. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m such a mess.”

Bert smiled, but when he looked down between his legs his eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped. Beside her lip gloss and bronzer, just next to her small makeup mirror, he saw a small red dildo. You couldn’t miss it: a rubbery latex penis, about five inches long, leaning against his testicles.

Betty pressed her hand to her throat. “Sorry…it’s my secret travel companion, is all.” Then she reached between his legs and started to fish for the contents of her purse. She gathered her makeup, and purposely rubbed the side of her hand against the inside of Bert’s thigh. When she reached for the red dildo, he jerked because she took a handful of his balls instead. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Ah well…” he said. His eyes were closed by then, and he started to wiggle his legs.

She began to massage his testicles; they were large and filled her hand. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax for a while? I’m not usually this forward with strange men, but you are so attractive,” she said. But it was a bold lie. She’d done this before, with many guys, either in an airport or on a plane.

Bert’s eyes were rolling and his mouth was half open. “Is this okay? I mean, we could get in trouble for this.” But he didn’t look up to see if anyone was watching them while she stroked his balls in public.

“The plane is empty,” she whispered. “No one is watching. Just close your eyes, handsome.”

The higher her hand went, the harder his penis became. She looked up for a moment to see if anyone could see her groping between his legs. The flight attendants were sitting way up front, and everyone else seemed to be minding his or her own business. But when she licked her bottom lip and began to unzip his slacks, she looked across to the next row of seats and saw that one of the young men who had been listening to music earlier was now watching every move she made. He had reddish blond hair, fair white skin, and a cute little pug nose. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-one. They stared at each other for a moment, and then he smiled, spread his long legs and rubbed his own crotch. Betty winked at him, and then she told Bert to close his eyes and relax. This was an interesting state of affairs; she’d never had an audience while she sucked a guy off on a plane.

When Bert’s zipper was down, Betty slowly reached inside his boxer shorts and grabbed his dick. It was completely erect by then, and it pulsed and jumped when she wrapped her palm around the shaft. She pulled it out of his pants carefully, but Bert opened his eyes and looked toward the front of the plane. “I don’t know about this,” he said. “We could get into trouble.” Then he looked across the row to see what the two young guys were doing. Both had their eyes closed and were still listening to their iPods.

“Just close your eyes,” she said. “It won’t take long. You know you want it.”

She leaned toward him and gently jerked his cock a few times; she placed the tip of her thumb against the base of his dickhead and rubbed the soft skin. There was precome already beginning to ooze from the opening. Oh, she knew it wouldn’t take too long with this one. The poor guy probably hadn’t had good head
in years. And if he was so worried about having sex in public, he clearly could have stopped her from continuing.

Bert closed his eyes again and leaned back; he bucked his hips forward so that his dick was standing up, out of his pants. It was thick, and if you wrapped your hand around the base there would still have been four inches showing through the top. “You promise you’ll keep looking to see that we don’t get caught,” he said, but his eyes were still closed.

“Yes, I promise,” she said. But when she looked across the row, the young college guy was staring at them again. This time, his blue eyes were glazed and he was jerking his own dick. She smiled at him, opened her mouth, and then went down on Bert’s cock while the stranger watched.

She took the dick to the back of her throat; her lips went all the way down to the fabric of his white boxer shorts. His crotch smelled like fresh soap, but there was still a hint of that watered down oil and vinegar stench of a man’s sweaty balls. She inhaled deeply through her nose; this was her favorite men’s cologne. The young guy across the row licked his palm and wrapped it around his own large erection and slowly began to masturbate. She pressed her tongue against the bottom side of Bert’s dick and began to suck. Her cheekbones indented and her lips grew puffy. When she looked up, with a mouthful of cock, to see what the young guy was doing, her eyes opened wider, and then she blinked. The redheaded one who had been masturbating was still watching her suck Bert’s dick, but the other guy who had been sleeping was now sucking the redhead off. The other guy had dark brown hair, and his eyes were light brown. When Betty’s eyes met the eyes of the other cocksucker, he lifted his hand and slowly waved his fingers. She pressed her tongue hard against Bert’s shaft and smiled back.

She went all the way down to the base of Bert’s dick again
and began to suck and slurp, pressing her lips together when she reached the head so it would feel more like a hand job than a blow job. Her head bobbed and saliva dripped down her chin. Every so often, when she swallowed, she tasted Bert’s salty precome. The dark-haired guy who was sucking off his friend in the opposite row mimicked everything she did. When Betty’s head bobbed up and down quickly, so did his; when Betty’s cheeks indented, so did his; and when Betty let it pop out of her mouth so she could lick the head, so did he. The red-haired guy who was getting sucked off, and watching Betty suck Bert off, rested his head back on the seat. He stared at Bert’s wide dick; his tongue hung out, he bucked his hips and pressed his palm on the back of the dark-haired guy’s head.

When the pilot suddenly announced they were heading toward some rough turbulence and that everyone should buckle their seat belts, Betty slid Bert’s cock halfway out of her mouth and wrapped her right hand around the base. Bert moaned, “Oh yeah, that’s it,” while she sucked the head of his dick and jerked him off at the same time. She looked across the row; the other cocksucker was now sucking the head and jerking the shaft of his buddy, too. The dark-haired guy nodded yes, to let her know that his red-haired buddy was about to blow a load, and she began to work harder on Bert’s dick, as if she were in a cock-sucking contest and someone would receive a prize.

With her lips wrapped around the top of Bert’s dick, her hand worked faster. A moment later Bert was ready to release, and he spread his legs even wider so that one knee was almost out in the aisle. He gripped the arms of his seat and his body went rigid. When he squinted and furrowed his eyebrows, Betty knew his toes were curling inside his black shoes. But more than that, just as Bert was about to orgasm, she looked across the row and the dark-haired guy nodded again. Her broad eyes met
his, and then both Bert and the red-haired guy came at the exact same time. Bert shot a load of cream all the way to the back of her throat; she gulped and swallowed. The dark-haired young guy was sucking and swallowing the last ounce from his buddy’s dick, too. Betty and the dark-haired guy continued to stare at each other, as if they were watching their own reflections, and went all the way down on their partners’ dicks at the same time to make sure they didn’t waste a drop of come.

The plane jerked back and forth for a moment, but not much. Betty lifted her head and touched the corners of her mouth with her fingertips to be sure nothing was dripping. While she reached down into her purse for a small mirror, Bert shoved his cock back into his pants and adjusted his legs.

“Ah well,” he said. Then he looked around the plane to see if anyone was watching them. The flight attendants were nowhere to be seen, the red-haired guy in the next row was still sleeping, and the dark-haired guy was wiping his chin with a white tissue. Bert smiled at him and waved; the thought of actually receiving a blow job in public, by a great-looking woman, made his heart beat faster.

When Betty looked into the mirror, her lips were puffy. She applied more lip gloss and said, “I guess it’s only light turbulence.” What else could she say?
Thanks for letting me suck your dick; it was my pleasure. And the two gay guys in the row across from us really enjoyed watching me suck your dick, too.
She knew it was best to get right back to normal, as if none of this had ever happened, which was fine with her.

But Bert actually rubbed his big legs, sighed, and said, “Thanks…I’ve always wanted to do something like that, but never had the guts. And my ex-wife…well, she always wanted talking and romance. I’d ask her on the way home from a dinner party, I’d say, ‘You wanna give me head right here in the car?’
and she’d say, ‘Are you kidding…we can’t do something like that…it’s against the law.’ All I can say is that when you get rejected enough, you develop an edge, and then you stop asking altogether.”

Betty smiled and popped a breath mint into her mouth. “I don’t know,” she said, “I wish I were more like other women sometimes. But I really
don’t
care about talking and romance and tons of psychological foreplay…I like sex; I like dick.”

Bert leaned closer and laughed. “You want to know something else?” He began to whisper as if he were about to tell her his deepest darkest secret. “At first I was a little freaked out when I realized those two guys were watching you blow me, but then I realized I actually liked it. I mean I’m not gay or anything, but I sort of liked doing it in public. It felt dangerous and exciting.”

She faced him and put her hands on her hips. “You knew all along?”

He nodded his head and said, “Sorry; I hope you’re not mad or anything.”

“Of course I’m not mad,” she said. And then she hiked her skirt up and spread her legs a little. “If you like it so much, then why don’t you take that little red toy out of my purse and do me now. We still have a very active audience, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Bert turned his head and looked over at the two guys across from him. The redhead was now going down on the dark-haired one. His head was bobbing up and down; the other guy’s legs were stretched all the way out and his hand was in the middle of the redhead’s shoulder blades. Bert looked at Betty and shrugged. “Open your legs wide, baby…and we won’t need any toys for this, either.” Then he waved his thick fingers and wagged his tongue.

 

 

 

 

 

T
he conversations go something like this:

“I’m a wing walker,” I say, demurely twiddling my glass of chardonnay.

“Oh?” he says, and his eyes flick over me dismissively, no doubt picturing me in thick overalls wielding an industrial hose of airplane deicer at DIA. “You don’t look the maintenance type.”

“I’m not,” I say. “I wear a catsuit, not a boilersuit, and I dance on the wing of the plane as it flies along.”

That always gets their attention, at the very least a double take, while they decide if I’m serious or not. And if they decide I am, then I have their interest for as long as I want it.

 

Wing walking goes something like this: