As a salesman for a large corporation, I travel
constantly. For me, flying is no more exciting than
taking a bus-with the exception of one recent, unusual
flight.
I was late for the red-eye from Philly to San
Francisco, and was dismayed to see a long line of
people waiting to go through the metal detector. I
stamped my feet and sighed dramatically along with the
others until I saw the cause of the logjam: A vision of
Far Eastern loveliness in a skirt shorter than Heather
Locklear’s on ‘Melrose Place’ had emptied her bag and
all her pockets, and still kept setting off the
detector. The poor thing was turning a lovely pink from
embarrassment and frustration. My heart and rapidly
expanding cock went out to the girl.
Finally, she slapped her forehead, as if the answer had
just dawned on her. As everyone stared in astonishment,
she stuck a hand under her skirt and squatted as if she
were about to take a dump right there on the floor.
Elegantly plopping two little steel balls on the
conveyor belt, she swished through the detector and out
of my life.
She’s probably going to L.A., I thought as I forlornly
boarded my plane. I couldn’t get the picture of her
flushed face and pushpin nipples, erect with
excitement, out of my head. Luckily, my tray hid the
bulge in my pants when the stewardess served me my
drink. As soon as she was gone, I headed for the
bathroom to quickly whack off, covering my crotch with
an issue of ‘Elle’ which would serve me once I was in
the restroom as well.
The slot on the first door read ‘Unoccupied’. I pushed
it open and there stood the ‘Ben-wa ball girl’,
completely naked, bent over to examine her shaved pussy
for ingrown hairs. Before I could stammer out an
apology, she yanked me into the tiny room, shut the
door and slid the Occupied sign in place.
“Thank God!” she declared. “I’ve been waiting 20
minutes for someone to use this toilet.”
She clamped a hand over my mouth when I tried to speak.
“We have to be very quiet,” she whispered, unzipping my
fly with her free hand. She sat on the bowl, pulling my
pants down with her. Out sprang my stiff cock, which
she immediately devoured whole. Snorting furiously, she
slammed her head down on my rod again and again, as if
she were trying to bust a hole right through the roof
of her mouth. Her hands flew everywhere, massaging my
hips and thighs and kneading my swollen ball sac and
strained butt cheeks.
So this is the Mile High Club, I thought. Why didn’t I
join sooner? I gritted my teeth to keep from groaning
with pleasure as the girl sucked relentlessly on my
prick.
The plane hit an air pocket, and I fell forward,
moaning loudly when my prick hit the back of her
throat. As the girl sat choking, tears welling up in
her eyes, the steward knocked on the door and asked if
I was all right.
“Tell him you’re airsick,” coughed the girl, seeing my
panic-stricken expression.
I moaned emphatically. “I, uh, have diarrhea.”
“Sorry about that, sir.”
“Diarrhea!” snickered the girl after he left. “I’d
better plug it up.” She hooked a saliva-slicked finger
in my asshole and speared her head on my tool once
again.
That did it. My balls gave a portentous rumble. But no
way was I going to come without sampling that bare
pussy. I snatched my cock from the girl’s ravenous jaws
before it could blast off.
Unfazed, the girl skillfully hopped onto the sink and,
wrapping her limber legs around my neck, pulled my
mouth down to her twat. I rubbed my cheek along her
clean-shaven pussy mound, marveling at its baby
softness, but she drew me in closer, mashing her slit
against my mouth. Slipping my tongue in, I fucked her
yawning hole until her juices plastered my face.
I was lost in the heady perfume of her velvet cunt when
I heard a loud banging on the door.
“Hey, what did you do, fall in?” An impatient passenger
was spoiling the party.
Thinking quickly, I made diarrhea farting noises with
my mouth. The knocking stopped.
“Fuck me now, before we’re interrupted again,” demanded
the girl, releasing me from her legs and pushing me
back onto the toilet. She gracefully alighted from her
perch and eased her lithe body onto my throbbing prick,
facing me. Her narrow little cunt fit my dick like a
glove. As she slid up and down, she drew in her muff
muscles, squeezing my rod even tighter, until I thought
the head would burst open, flooding her insides with
bubbling crude.
Gradually the girl picked up speed, frantically hopping
up and down and humping her clit against the base of my
cock. Finally, she rose on my pole, keeping only the
head in, planted her feet firmly on the floor and
dropped her body down with a bang, until my dick felt
like it was clogging her windpipe. Her head snapped
back, and she writhed on my pulsing prick like a stuck
pig, humming steadily through her tightly closed lips.
This baby-doll deserved a treat-one I reserve for only
my most special girlfriends, because it requires a lot
of strength. I was near the end, but I pride myself on
my endurance. Digging my fingers into her smooth ass
cheeks, I stood up quickly, carrying the girl with me.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she exclaimed, squirming on
my cock. “You’ve got to be careful-”
Her head bashed into the low ceiling, and she was
knocked out. The weight of her unconscious body falling
knocked me into the door, forcing it open, and we
toppled into the aisle, where a frightened stewardess
dropped a Salisbury steak dinner on my head.
I’m writing this from my cell, holding one ice pack on
my skull and another on my sore dick, but I don’t
regret a single second. In fact, now I have a better
use for all those frequent flyer miles.
F.Y. Pottstown, Pennsylvania