Dolly's Mile High Club Adventure
Okay. I have to start with a disclaimer on this one. Writing this entry made me SO hot recalling the details, I hold no responsibility for whatever you might choose to do to yourself or others while or after reading it;)
That said, here we go.
Much has been written about being initiated into the “Mile High Club”. Scholars have called it “coitus aeronauticus”. I’ve heard celebrities term it, “sex among the stars.” I simply refer to it as “unbelievably hot fucking because of the chance of being caught.”
My “initiation” into the club occurred years ago. But I can remember the details vividly as if it were yesterday. Yes, it was THAT amazing.
I was seated in First Class on a 747 next to a very handsome, well-dressed British gentleman on a flight from Miami to London. (What is it about a British accent that makes even the hottest looking man even hotter?)
I’d never tried to seduce a man at 30,000 feet before, but I could tell within minutes of talking with him that I might definitely be up for the challenge on this flight. I mean seriously, I was getting so wet I was afraid to get out of my leather seat for fear it would be that obvious.
But we’re talking smoldering, mind-blowing sex with a total stranger here … how in the world could I convince him this was a good idea and then actually pull it off in the confines of an insanely small airplane restroom?
First order of business was to get his attention … or, frankly, to get him hard. It was a day-time flight, so I had no advantage of doing anything in the dark. But whenever I travel, especially in first class, I wear something “corporate”, a business suit with skirt, blouse and jacket. I also make sure the skirt has enough flexibility so I can adjust just how high up it rides above my knees … from literally just over the knee to just over my panties … okay, I didn’t wear any that day, so let’s just say over my pussy. The same was true for my blouse. Lots of buttons to allow quick adjustments of just how much cleavage I can reveal. And a VERY hot lace bra … usually black … but sometimes white under a white blouse. White against my tan always looks terrific.
Over the years I’ve discovered and practiced just the right leg-crossing moves in any seated position so that with each cross, the skirt moves up higher. And those are the moves I used to begin to get my British friend’s attention. As we engaged in small-talk and sipped a drink (he told me his name was Richard, but that I could call him Dick … I kid you not), I occasionally crossed my legs, purposely allowing my skirt to ride higher and higher. There was no doubt he was noticing, as his eyes continually darted down and then back up to me, as if embarrassed that he might be caught “looking”. Little did he know I WANTED him to be looking …. and actually a whole lot fucking more.
One of the great things about flying first class is there is no shortage of free alcohol. So after three drinks, we were both definitely a bit giddy by the time the flight attendant came to serve our lunch. While eating, I decided that as soon as we finished, I would carry out my plan. Let’s just call it, “Seducing Dick on a 747.”
When the flight attendant took our trays away, I knew Dick was in the mood to get to know me better. And fortunately, this was a time when first class passengers on a 747 had a lounge/bar upstairs on the second level “hump” of the plane. (Good nickname for that area actually.) I asked him if he’d care to join me for a drink and he happily obliged. I took advantage of every aspect of the plane’s design. I made sure to climb the spiral staircase to the lounge, stepping just ahead of him so he could look up my skirt and see that I was wearing no panties.
After another drink in the lounge, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Excuse me, I need to use the rest room.” To which he responded, “Not a problem. I’ll be here.” But when I got up, I leaned in even closer and said, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I get a bit claustrophobic in the tiny restrooms. If I kept the door unlatched, would you mind stopping in shortly after I close the door? I’d feel much less anxiety.”
The glint in his eye told me he knew EXACTLY what I was up to and was definitely in favor of it. YES!!! But now for the major trick of “Mile High Club” activity in restrooms. Obviously, two passengers can’t be seen going into one at the same time. So the stealth comes in.
Away I went, entered the tiny cubicle, closed the door and waited. Within a couple minutes, the door gently opened, he peeked inside and there we were, literally standing chest-to-chest in a tiny space, squeezing together so that the door could close. I locked the latch.
Of course being in such close proximity just screams out for a kiss, and my tongue literally dove into his mouth. My hands began rubbing the crotch area of his pants, where I immediately felt that Dick’s dick was obviously ready for action. With our tongues still dancing in each others’ mouths, he unbuttoned my blouse and moved his oral attention to my breasts.
WOW this Brit named Dick knew what to do with a tongue on my nipples!
Holy shit! I don’t know whether it was the alcohol or the altitude or the risk of being caught, but I became so wet so fast, I could feel myself starting to cum almost instantly and literally tore his belt off, pulled his pants to the floor and grabbed onto the best throbbing cock I’d ever seen above sea level … actually WAY above sea level.
Hoping dearly that there was not a line of people waiting to use the rest room, I quickly went to work giving him what I would call a HABBBJ (high-altitude bare-back blowjob). Normally I like to prolong a blow job, starting teasingly slow and slowly taking it further into my mouth so it’s rock hard when ready for “entry”. But here, time was of the essence and I literally fucked that British cock with my mouth like I was in a triathlon race.
Happily he was rock hard in no time and I did the best I could to sit up on the tiny sink area so my bare, VERY wet pussy was in full view and within his reach. And down Dick went. OMG! I’d been eaten out in some wild places but this was fucking AMAZING. I was so damn hot already, I came within literally seconds when he rapidly circled my swollen clit with that serpent-like tongue. “SHIT”, I thought. I could have him do this for hours, but there’s NO time. I needed him to FUCK ME NOW!
Dick literally laughed when I pulled a condom from my jacket pocket, ripped it open and quickly stretched it over him. “You do come prepared, don’t you?” he said. My response was simple, “You just never know who you might meet in the friendly skies.”
So let’s pause a second here to truly appreciate the heat and carnal insanity of this. In a room barely big enough for one person, here were a man and woman occupying practically every square inch of available space, my ass jammed against the tiny sink with my legs spread open as wide as possible and Dick preparing to use his dick to appreciation every bit of wetness from my dripping pussy the RIGHT way … by plunging that cock into me! Now THAT is an image worth remembering. (If that had happened today, I would have snapped a selfie.)
Within seconds, Dick’s gorgeous British cock was pounding away in me and it was all we could do to keep our groaning down to a dull roar so not to reveal what the hell was going on in that restroom. “Tell me when you’re ready to cum,” I panted. “NOW!” he emphatically replied. “UNBELIEVABLE,” I thought. I knew this had to be quick but I never thought HE’d be able to deliver that fast. I ripped off his condom, dropped down as best I could, took that throbbing cock into my mouth and a fucking volcano of hot cum came shooting out. It was all I could do to keep it from spilling all over the floor of that tiny space (not to mention our clothes), so I was literally swallowing as Dick was still shooting MORE load past my lips. UNFUCKING BELIEVABLE!
FINALLY, I swear dear Dick the Brit must have had 2-liter balls to hold all that sperm. When he finished we both were so exhausted we would have fallen in a heap onto the floor but there was NO ROOM TO FALL! So we just stood there, holding each other, and I darted my tongue into his mouth so he could taste his own cum. (I have to admit, I just LOVE to do that.) Then I swallowed the last drop and gave him my best diva smile, which was TOTALLY genuine. There was no acting here. This was such a hot fuck my knees were quivering.
But then it hit us. HOW THE HELL DO WE GET OUT OF HERE WITHOUT ANY SIGNS OF SUSPICION?
We quickly re-dressed, at least the best we could. “You go out first,” I told him. “We can’t be seen leaving together.” He unlatched the door and exited and I quickly re-latched it, immediately hearing someone trying to open the door after he left. “Shit,” I thought. “They could be calling a flight attendant. How will I explain this?” I tried to regain my composer and suddenly had a great idea.
There was a container in the rest room with spit-up bags for passengers with nausea. I took one, put some water in it, then opened the door, pretending to look nauseated. An older woman who had been trying to open the door looked at me puzzled but with pity. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I became airsick and my boyfriend helped me get through it.” She just politely smiled and said, “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m sure his being with you was most helpful.”
I then returned to my seat in the lounge next to Dick, where he was pretending to read a newspaper nonchalantly and I was still pretending to feel slightly ill, tossing the spit-up bag in a trash container at the bar.
PHEW! WE FUCKING DID IT! AND GOT AWAY WITH IT!
“Have you ever done that before?” he asked? “No,” I said. “You have officially fucked a Mile High Club virgin. What about you?” “First time here as well,” he said and called over the bartender, asking for two glasses of champagne. “Well, then we have something to celebrate, don’t we?” We toasted our new experience and could barely keep from laughing so hard that it would have given away our secret.
But just when I THOUGHT we had handled everything discretely, the older woman left the restroom, came over and whispered in my ear. “Don’t worry, dear. I found the condom wrapper on the floor and disposed of it. SO glad you’re feeling better.” She then walked back down to the stairs to the seating area, smiling back at me as she went.
I didn’t know whether to freak out or laugh. But I took my cue from Dick, who just howled. That was one hip lady … who’d probably had similar experiences herself.
When we reached London, and it was time to part, I’ll never forget Dick giving me a peck on the cheek good-bye as we exited the jetway. And he very politely, in a classic proper British manner said, “Dolly, I have met many fascinating people on flights in my lifetime. But I have to admit, meeting you has been a total pleasure.”
Having in subsequent years had a “few” more “Mile High Club” experiences, I want to leave you with a word of advice about having sex in a plane at 30,000 feet. Take the red-eye and fly coach, NOT first class.
On a red-eye flight, the lights are always dimmed low, and ANYTHING can go on underneath those airline-provided blankets. The arm rests in first class are usually not retractable, making lying down next to one another in a full row impossible. But in coach, no problem.
There’s nothing more exciting than being just about to cum under the covers when a flight attendant walks by, glances your way and says, “Please, I know you both are sleeping, but keep your seat belts fastened so we don’t need to wake you should we encounter turbulence.” And breathlessly we answer, “Yes, thank you. They’re fastened.”
I have no doubt flight attendants know what’s happening when a couple is huddled under the covers at night on a long flight. Hey, who knows. Maybe one night I’ll get lucky enough to have one of them join us for a threesome!
Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!