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The tales which I herein present to you are more a scattered sequence of events than chapters of a story; the only similarity they share is the subject of air travel- that and a simple, curious prospect: For all you know, these short episodes may well have occurred all on the very same flight; or each in their own; they may have occurred years ago, or may be still to come, years into the future. They may just happen to take place on your very next flight!
Tom and Rochelle stood in line at the gate to board their flight, chatting nonchalantly about their journey ahead; each trying to calm their own nerves.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Rochelle said sincerely, but distractedly as she craned her neck out to try and see the head of the line. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, but having you with me- it’s nice,” she added.
Rochelle had flown several times; her daddy was a doctor, and every summer his wages guaranteed the family two separate vacations, typically with a third at some point between autumn and winter. Most trips had been cross-country destinations, but there were a few international flights, too.
Today, she was flying to Spain, to study abroad for a semester. She had begged her best friend Jennifer to come with her, at least for the flight over, but Jenn couldn’t take off work, and agreed to send her boyfriend Tom in her place.
Rochelle had known Tom for a very long time, and was as good of pals with him as she was with Jenn.
Tom on the other hand hadn’t flown before, at least not commercially. A buddy with a private pilot’s license and permission to use his uncle’s little four-seat Cessna had taken Tom flying on a few occasions. They were remarkable experiences, each one of them, and had quickly instilled in him a great passion for flying.
Presently, with his thoughts regrouping, he patted her back amicably. “No problem Kid!”
“At least you’ll get to see Spain,” Rochelle leveled sportingly. “And I’m sure we can find some authentic paella for dinner.”
Tom’s eyes widened. “Shit, you’re right!” he exclaimed. “I’ve only been waiting my whole life.”
The line slowly began to move as passengers disappeared through the door leading down the narrow jetway. Through a wall of glass panes, Tom could see the jetway leading around to their plane outside, which was currently facing them.
“Damn,” he breathed. “It’s huge.”
Rochelle glanced down at the ticket in her hand. Seven-eighty-seven, Boeing’s latest!” she chirped. “Comfy too. There’s a lot of space on the inside.”
“Ah, nice,” he replied simply.
Soon they walked through the door and shuffled uneasily down the carpeted corridor. Tom couldn’t help but feel like a sardine packed into a tin. At least it didn’t smell like a tin of sardines, he told himself silently.
Entering the plane’s passenger cabin, they both glanced at their tickets simultaneously for a seat number; before either of them found it, a polite stewardess introduced herself and offered her assistance.
Once they had reached their seats, Tom hefted Rochelle’s carry-on, along with his own into the overhead bins, marveling as to the spaciousness of the compartments.
“Nice that they give you so much space,” he mentioned plainly, settling into his seat.
“Yeah, for sure,” she replied, pulling out her phone to check messages. “This airplane is pretty much state of the art.”
Tom envied how acquainted Rochelle was with flying. He was sure her familiarity with it all was making the experience much more enjoyable for him.
Presently, he was fumbling with his seat belt, which seemed horribly less intuitive than anything else in the aircraft.
Rochelle glanced over, giggling. “No, here-” she muttered, grabbing the two lower straps and pulling them across his lap, her hand brushing against his crotch. She clicked the buckle into place.
It was a little awkward for Tom, but he decided to not think more about it, and quickly put it out of his mind.
Less than half an hour later, the plane was being pushed backward and away from the gate, and towed to the entrance of a runway.
A stewardess’ cheerful voice suddenly resounded through the plane. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Flight One-Seventeen, direct service to Barcelona. Today we will be flying at an altitude of twenty-seven thousand feet, at a ground speed of approximately five hundred twenty miles per hour; our flight will be about seven hours and fifteen minutes in duration. The captain has just informed me that we are third in line for departure.”
Tom closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind, focusing on his even breathing.
In the seat beside him, Rochelle put her phone away and adjusted the cardigan she was wearing to better cover her.
Less than a minute later, the 787’s twin Rolls-Royce engines spooled up to their healthy high-pitched whine and the plane was moving.
“It’s so quiet inside,” almanbahis adres Tom marveled. “Even with the engines at full throttle.”
“Pretty cool, right?”
Shortly after takeoff, Rochelle produced a book from her carry-on and proceeded to read; Tom took note of a placard on the seatback in front of him, informing him that wifi was complimentary to all passengers; he pulled the laptop out of his own bag and surfed the Internet to pass the time. As he glanced around, he noticed that the cabin was relatively empty- he guessed only half of the seats were filled. Luckily, there was no one else in their row, and the closest fellow travelers were in the row ahead and one aisle over.
He rested his head back and soon fell asleep.
When Tom again opened his eyes, the cabin was rather dark; the lights had been turned down and most of the window shades had been lowered.
“Shel, what time is it?” he asked groggily, sitting up a little straighter. To his surprise, she was leaning against him, with her head on his shoulder.
“One thirty,” she yawned, leaning to a more upright position as well. “I could use some coffee or something, you?”
“Ah, I’m alright,” Tom assured her as she stood and headed to the back.
“So,” Rochelle said plainly upon returning to her seat a few minutes later. “How ya doing?”
There was a warm smile on her lips, and her brown eyes seemed bright amidst the dimness of the plane’s interior.
“Uh, good,” Tom managed flatly. “Didn’t think it would be so…ordinary. So…not exciting,” he added with a laugh.
“Hah, yeah especially when you can’t even look out the window,” she said lightly.
“You ever sleep much on planes?” he asked her.
“No…I’m not sure why, but I’ve never been able to. It’s the craziest thing.” She sipped her coffee and uttered a sound of satisfaction.
“Their coffee is actually really good,” she went on. “Kinda surprised.” She offered the cup to Tom, who took it hesitantly, and sipped from it also.
“Hell yeah it’s good,” he agreed. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how are you and Tony doing?”
“Ugh, we broke up,” she murmured indignantly. “He got all weird about me going abroad for the semester. I don’t know if he ever trusted me.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Tom said with genuine sympathy. “I thought you guys made a good match.”
“Eh, there’s probably still hope,” she continued. “I don’t know. It is kind of annoying, the way he always gets all jealous and protective.”
“Hey, I would be too if I was your boyfriend,” he told her earnestly.
She looked at him, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes in a sort of playful gesture. “Not the way he is, I hope. His level of insecurity…talk about a turn-off.”
“Well, you are gorgeous. And everywhere you go, guys do stare at you,” he laughed.
Rochelle laughed along with him. “Thanks Tom, but I’m not that special.”
“Do you miss him?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head lightly. “I do miss the sex though.”
Tom raised an eyebrow. “Huh. How long has it been?”
“A week, no…nine days?” she guessed. “Too long for me at any rate!”
Tom remembered back to all the conversations he’d had with Jenn and Rochelle, all the tidbits he’d overheard from the next room. As far as he was concerned, she was a nymphomaniac, and probably could have been diagnosed as such. That didn’t make him think any less of her however, and he certainly had never treated her differently because of it. To him, she was still lovable, innocent Rochelle.
He laughed aloud at the notion. “You poor girl,” he joked.
“I’m serious dude! It’s killing me!” She finished her coffee, and set the mug into her cupholder.
“Soooo…” she started, turning her head to look directly at Tom. “Do you want like, a handjob or something?” Her inquiry was as casual as could be, as though she were discussing the weather.
“What?!” Tom blurted. Did she really just say that?!
“Yeah, you know, I mean, it’s a long flight and I kinda owe you one for flying with me,” she said evenly. “Plus I’m kinda bored.” She looked about the cabin.
“Okay, first of all,” Tom exhaled in a long sigh, “couldn’t we get into trouble for that, if we even did it?”
Rochelle laughed in her characteristically shrill HAH!
“You’re such a dork! No one will know. It’s not like it’s packed in here or anything.”
Tom considered her offer very briefly, but knew he couldn’t accept. It wouldn’t be fair to Jenn, and beyond that, it would change the way he saw Rochelle forever. If he were to be honest, there had been several times when she came over in leggings or yoga pants and he couldn’t help but admire her cute little ass. Then there had been the time she came to dinner wearing tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination…
Sometimes the acts of sex she would describe from her latest hookup would turn him on immensely; but he had worked hard to get this far without succumbing almanbahis adresi to fantasies or inappropriate thoughts about her. And he was very content with his relationship with Jenn.
“Come on,” Rochelle egged. “You know you wanna say yes.” She placed a hand on his leg, just above the knee.
“Jenn would kill me,” Tom replied definitively, trying to ignore her playful touch.
“Dude…it’s just a handjob,” she pressed, speaking the words slowly in a sarcastic tone. “Come on. You’ll love it.” She winked at him with her cutest smirk.
Tom still wasn’t moved. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Shel.”
“Just let me touch it, and you’ll change your mind,” she breathed. “Please?”
Tom was quickly getting an erection. He didn’t know how much longer he could bear to resist her generous offer, but even listening to her talk about it was driving him near the tipping point.
“Excuse me Miss,” Rochelle spoke up suddenly as a flight attendant walked down the aisle.
“Yes ma’am?” came the sweet reply.
“Could we get a blanket and some hot towels?”
“Certainly honey,” the attendant said.
“Oh, and do you have any hand lotion?” Rochelle inquired. “I forgot mine in my luggage, and my hands are getting kinda dry,” she fibbed convincingly.
“Sure, right away.”
Tom threw his head back against the headrest and after a moment, glanced down just in time to see Rochelle’s hand slide up the front of his jeans, wrapping her small fingers around his pulsating bulge to give it a quick squeeze.
“This is gonna be fun,” she giggled, hurriedly throwing her long blonde hair into a loose bun.
The attendant returned promptly and handed the items to Rochelle; she thanked her and once the woman had walked back up the aisle, Rochelle spread the blanket across Tom’s lap.
“Shit,” he muttered in defeat. “What are the towels for?”
“For when you make a huge mess all over me,” she said in that same nonchalant tone.
“Holy shit, okay,” he breathed nervously.
She undid the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.
“Don’t be nervous, Tom. It’s just a handjob,” she repeated, sensing his hesitation. “Just relax and concentrate on how good it feels.”
She slipped a hand through the fly of his jeans, groping and caressing his meaty shaft through a thin barrier of cotton.
“Woah,” she whispered. “Tom, it’s huge! Jenn told me you had a nice cock, but she didn’t say it was this nice!”
Tom didn’t know what to say. He forced a weak laugh.
“Let’s get your pants off.” She leaned down over his lap, her face directly above the opening in his jeans, and worked to tug his jeans down from around his waist. He rose up slightly to help her and Rochelle pulled them effortlessly down past his knees, and dropped them to his ankles. She quickly gave the same treatment to his boxer shorts.
Tom gasped as Rochelle took his member fully in her tiny hand, squeezing it gently. It throbbed in response and she giggled.
She ran a finger up the underside and around the head, and gripped the shaft as she plunged her hand downward.
She quickly poured some of the hand cream into one palm, and began working his stiff cock up and down, in a slow pumping motion.
“I’m gonna go kinda slow,” she explained politely. “Just let me know if you want me to speed up at all.”
“Okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. It felt amazing. Her hands were small enough that if she had three of them, they all would have fit between the head and base of his dick.
He watched as the blanket rose and fell slowly; steadily above his pelvis, and reveled in her talent.
“Damn Shel, your hand feels so good!”
“Yeah?” she queried. A grin spilled across her face. “I told you that you’d like it buddy.”
“Fuck,” Tom exclaimed softly.
Just then, a different stewardess appeared from the curtain ahead, and began strolling down the aisle. From what Tom could see, she was rather attractive; she had long black hair styled into a french braid, and fair, even-toned skin; a tall, slender body with proportionate breasts hidden beneath her powder-blue button-down shirt. She had freckles between her bright blue eyes and on her nose, and presumably natural voluptuous lips.
She appeared to be checking in with some of the passengers, making small talk and light conversation with the ones who were still awake. She had a gorgeous smile, a smile that instantly made people feel at ease.
Rochelle continued stroking Tom’s penis, her tempo unchanged, even when the stewardess moved past the couple just up the aisle from them.
“Shel Shel Shel!” he shouted in a whisper, squirming.
“Hello, do you two need anythi-” the woman started, in a sweet Austrian accent, stopping herself short. “Oh…Oh my…excuse me!” The poor woman’s face turned a bright shade of red as she watched the blanket’s movement. She quickly gathered herself, closed her almanbahis adres mouth and repeated “Excuse me,” and practically bolted away.
“Hey wait!” Rochelle shouted after her.
“…yes?” came a hesitant response.
“Are you serving drinks now?”
Tom could have killed her. It was one thing to instigate the act in the first place, but another entirely to involve someone else who was thereby made extremely uncomfortable. He knew she was just thrill seeking.
“No, I’m sorry, but we’re not supposed to serve any alcohol after ten p.m.,” she said with difficulty, trying not to look down at the blanket.
“Okay…hmmm. Well…could you get me something anyway?” Rochelle asked with a smile. “Please? I could really go for something hard and stiff.”
Tom nudged her sharply with one knee; she turned her head towards him, a sly grin on her face. “What?” she mouthed silently, clearly amusing herself.
“Ma’am, I could get into trouble for doing that,” the attendant said breathlessly, looking back up the aisle.
“I’ll let you see my friend’s cock,” Rochelle offered boldly. She tugged the blanket down to reveal Tom’s purple dick, still in her tight grasp as she continued jerking him off.
The woman blushed again, and stammered: “That’s…not…necessary ma’am.” Her eyes were glued to the young man’s prick despite the words she had just muttered.
“Wanna watch me get him off?” Rochelle asked mischievously. “There’s an empty seat here, if you can get me a drink!”
The stewardess looked as though she was considering the opportunity; and finally submitted with a sigh. “What would you like honey?”
“Whiskey sour,” Rochelle declared. “Double, please. And can you make that with bourbon?”
“Yes ma’am,” the attendant said, finally turning her gaze away and moving back up the aisle.
“Rochelle!” Tom scolded her angrily. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Tom, relax,” she urged him with a wide smile. “Just try to enjoy it.”
“We are going to be in such deep shit,” he told her. “She’s going to tell someone what you’re doing!”
“Fine,” she said plainly, removing her hand and leaving Tom’s strained cock exposed; suddenly cold and still very rigid. “Have it your way bud. I didn’t want to do anything nice for you anyway.”
He could tell he had upset her; she picked her book back up and opened to the page she had left off at.
Tom looked down at his rod sheepishly. His resolve didn’t stand a chance.
“Shel…umm…can you keep going? It felt really good,” he urged. “I was really enjoying it…”
Rochelle sat up, placed her book down, brought her face close to his and looked him in the eyes. “You gonna shut the fuck up and sit there and enjoy it quietly?” she asked firmly.
“Yes,” he mumbled feebly.
“Promise me, dude.”
“Shel, I promise you I won’t say a word.”
“Okay, good boy,” she chastised, resuming her grip on his cock, pumping her fist rhythmically.
The attendant returned with Rochelle’s drink and sat down beside her, craning her neck to get a good view.
“Wow,” she breathed in her light, exotic accent. “Your friend has a nice cock!”
“Tell me about it,” Rochelle said with a laugh, stroking dutifully, and then continued a moment later, “Would you like to try?”
Tom nearly had a heart attack. “Shel-” he started meekly.
Rochelle glared at him with a sense of hostility in her eyes. “I told you…to shut…the fuck…up…and enjoy it,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “If you interrupt me one more time, we’re done with this. I mean that.”
“Okay, okay,” Tom leveled. “I’m sorry.”
Rochelle stood so the flight attendant could take her seat, and moved to Tom’s opposite side.
“Don’t be shy!” Rochelle coaxed, grabbing the woman’s hand.
The stewardess, whose name tag read Katarina, gingerly put her hand on Tom’s hard-on and worked her smallish hand up and down smoothly; her motion a little more fluid than Rochelle’s. A guilty smile spread across her mouth.
“You’re lucky to have a man with such a nice penis,” she giggled to Rochelle with that sexy accent. “My boyfriend isn’t nearly this big.”
That only turned Tom on even more. He started gyrating his hips, thrusting into her hand, which elicited another giggle.
“Well,” she said after a few more moments, “I should probably go check on the other passengers. But it was nice meeting you two!” She gave Tom’s cock a final, longing squeeze and winked at him. “Later on guys,” she breathed, standing and walking away.
Rochelle broke into a fit of laughter. “Holy shit man, can you fuckin’ believe that?!”
Tom smiled just a little. “I mean, it was pretty cool, a complete stranger? Talk about a rush.”
“Mmhmm,” she agreed, and then took her hand off him.
He was about to complain, when he saw her fumbling with the button of her own jeans, and then the zipper. She looked about the cabin, and laboriously pulled her pants down to her knees.
“What the hell are you doing now?” Tom asked incredulously.
Rochelle grabbed the blanket and pulled it up over them again, and replaced one hand to its former position on her friend’s tool, sliding the other down into her panties.
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