I finally joined the Mile High Club last night, but with a most-unexpected partner.
I was on the long flight from Los Angeles to Sydney. About 3:00 AM body time (we'd left from LA around 6 PM the night before, and it was some nine hours into the flight) I got up to go use the lavatory. The plane was totally dark, everyone was sleeping. About the only person up was a rather sleepy flight attendant, who was reading a magazine in the attendant's are since he had no passengers who currently needed attention.
I went to the row of lavatories at the back of the plane, chose one, and did my business (I guess if this was a water sports story I'd give you more details, but it isn't). When I stepped out of the lavatory I nearly bumped into Suresh, a young Indian from our office, who was also on the project and making the long flight to Sydney. He had also just come from a restroom, which is why I hadn't seen him when I was heading for the lavatories.
We got to talking about this and that was when Suresh asked, out of the blue, "Are you a member of the Mile High Club?" That's the name for the virtual club of people who have had sex in an airplane, in case you didn't know.
I said, "No. Are you?"
Suresh said, "Not so far." Then he floored me by asking, "Do you want to become a member?"
I looked at Suresh, not that I could see him that well in the darkened plane.
I liked what I saw: Suresh was maybe 28, and very slim. He had dark, straight black hair, like most Indians and a smiling, friendly face. He had nice biceps (muscular arms are a turn-on for me), made all the larger by his thin arms. His chest also showed the results of long hours at the gym or an active youth (I found out later it was mostly an active youth, playing tennis, badminton, and doing lots of swimming). His arms had only a sparse coating of fine black hair, and in the vee of the polo shirts Suresh always wore I could see a smooth chest. I'd never seen Suresh's legs, since I'd never seen him outside of work, so I couldn't vouch then for their muscularity. I can now, however.
I knew Suresh was straight, so I asked, "With whom? You? Aren't you straight?"
Suresh said, "Yes, but I'm horny. And I know you're gay." Then he added, "I've seen you checking me out." Well, why not? Like I said, Suresh was a well-put-together young man. "If you gave me a blow job," Suresh continued, "Then we'd both be satisfied." Isn't it funny how straight guys always assume all gay guys are "bottoms" in the blow job scene?
I said, "If I'm going to get YOU off, you'll have to get ME off." Suresh protested that he was straight, and wouldn't suck me off. So I told him, "I'll get my rocks off by fucking you." When he protested again, I pointed out, "All YOU use your ass for is for shitting. So why not let ME use it? After all, you get to stick your cock into my MOUTH. That's the deal, take it or leave it. And make up your mind quickly, before someone comes."
Suresh didn't say anything. He just looked around quickly, to make sure no one was around, then opened the door to one of the lavatories. I squeezed into it with him, and Suresh closed the door and locked it. We looked at each, not being sure how to continue in that cramped space. Finally I decided how we'd do it, so I said to him, "Undo your belt." He did. "Now undo your pants, and slide them down." I backed up, as much as I could, and Suresh sort of wiggled and pushed, and managed to slide his pants down to his ankles.
I was going to ask Suresh to take his pants off totally, but wasn't sure there was room. Then I noticed he wasn't wearing shoes, so I figured I could take them off myself in a couple of minutes. Suresh was wearing white BVDs, which gave off a faint odor, the sweat of a day's wearing plus nine hours of flight. This was it, the big moment.
"Slide your underwear down." Suresh slid them down. Now he was more or less committed. I couldn't see what he had, the space was that small. So then I told him, "Get up on the counter. That'll give us more room."
Suresh backed up and hopped up onto the counter. His legs were together, as though that would afford any protection. I closed the toilet cover and sat down on it. I'd have to twist my body to do Suresh, but it was the only way I'd have room.
Suresh waited for me, not sure what was next. I surprised him. I didn't bend my face close to his crotch, ready to blow him. Instead I bent forward and reached for his ankles. I took hold of the bottoms of both pants legs and yanked them halfway off. Suresh started to protest, but stopped when I said, "It'll be easier this way. You'll be able to spread your legs more."
I pulled Suresh's pants off the rest of the way, and left them in a heap on the floor. I then took hold of his underwear and pulled it off. Suresh spread his legs, like he was testing that what I'd told him was right. Now, at last, I could get a look at my prize.
Soft, it was nothing special. Suresh's cock was uncut, of course, and maybe four inches long. It was nestled in a thick patch of fairly straight black hair, almost as straight as the pubic hair on the Asian boys I've done. I could hardly see Suresh's balls for all the hair, then saw his two jewels cushioned by yet more hair.
I bent my head forward, ready to get started, and nearly gagged. I may be a little on the fastidious side, but I'd found out where the odor of sweat was coming from (all you raunch guys are probably drooling about now). "Don't you ever shower?" I complained. Suresh protested that he had, but that the plane was hot and it'd been a long day.
I had an idea. I grabbed a couple of paper towels and got them thoroughly wet. I started wiping at Suresh's crotch. I wet some more towels, and thoroughly rubbed his balls and under them. I noticed Suresh's cock started to awaken then. Finally I took hold of Suresh's cock and skinned back his foreskin. The towels rubbed away whatever sweat and cheese had been hiding there. At last when I sniffed I could hardly smell sweat-ah, I much prefer the scent of a freshly cleaned or showered man, so I was ready to get started.
I told Suresh to spread his legs and lean back. His shoulders pressed against the mirror, and he rested his hands on his spread knees. I took hold of Suresh's cock and once again skinned back his foreskin. I leaned forward and engulfed most of his shaft, then slowly pulled my mouth back. My tongue swirled around the shaft, then the soft skin of the glans, then at last tickled the tip and slit of his slowly hardening cock. Again I engulfed his cock, and again I swirled and pulled. By the fourth time, I was holding maybe six inches of hard manmeat in my hands (when I wasn't holding it in my mouth).
I began working Suresh's cock in and out of my mouth in earnest. Suresh began sighing, I guess he liked that. After a couple of minutes I stopped with Suresh's cock most of the way out of my mouth. Then I started working on the glans and soft, exposed skin with my tongue and hot breath. I guess Suresh liked THAT even more, I tasted my first drop of Indian pre-cum ever (I'm not sure what I expected; it didn't taste like curry, or cardamom, or even coriander. It tasted like good, old pre-cum.)
"Take off your shirt," I told Suresh. He looked blankly at me, like he was wondering why. Or maybe he wasn't sure there was enough room. "Well, at least push it up and over your head." Suresh comprehended THAT. With some difficulty he pulled up his shirt, then somehow managed to get it over his head, so it was around his neck.
As I'd suspected, Suresh had a good build. Not huge muscles, more tight or wiry. He had only a bit of black hairs around each nipple, which nestled darkly against his dark brown skin. I'm not sure if anyone had ever played with his chest. Well, probably no GUY had. He sort of flinched as I took one hand from his crotch and ran it up and down his chest, feeling the smooth skin.
At last I found a nipple, and started playing with it. I guess he was sensitive THERE, also; more drops of pre-cum started leaking from the end of his cock. Since I couldn't let them go to waste, I once again started sucking.
I kept that up for a couple of minutes. Suresh was shifting around and even starting to buck a little, so I stopped what I was doing, not wanting him to cum too quickly. I took his cock out of my mouth and pushed it up, out of the way, with my nose. I could now get at his jewels. And delightful jewels they were. The hair covering them, although thick, was surprisingly soft, as was the skin covering them. I nibbled on them, and sucked, first on one then on the other. I took them both in my mouth and ran my tongue over and around them. I felt a drop of pre-cum, then another, on my nose. I guess whatever I was doing was the right thing.
I decided we shouldn't stay in the lavatory too long, so I decided to finish Suresh off so I could get off. I took a deep breath, opened wide, and engulfed Suresh's cock down to the root. I almost started sneezing when his pubic hairs started tickling my nose. Somehow I held off, and got down to the serious work of getting him to cum. I sucked and licked and worked my tongue over and around the head of Suresh's cock. I tugged-gently-on his balls, then ran my fingers over and around them, ticking them and playing with them. My other hand I kept on his chest, as much for MY enjoyment as for his.
I guess my mouth technique is as good with STRAIGHT guys as I'd been told by gay guys that it was. Pretty soon Suresh started bucking his hips like mad, then thrusting them forward like he was fucking my mouth. His hands, which had hitherto been supporting his weight and balancing him on the sink, somehow found their way to either side of my head.
Suresh gave the deepest thrust of his hips yet, then held himself there, his cock buried deep down my throat as he came and came again. Suresh was not profuse with his juice, so I easily kept up, spilling nary a drop. Four spurts and he was down to a dribble. I kept sucking, as a newborn calf on her mother's tit, running my tongue over the glans and sucking hard to coax the last drops of juice.
Finally he pushed my head away; I guess his cock was getting sensitive after cumming. "Hey, dude," he said, "That was great!"
By then I'd caught my own breath, and was preparing in my mind how to jockey us around so that I could get off. After an appropriate pause, I replied, "Glad you liked it. Now it's MY turn to get off."
One thing I'll say, Suresh kept his word. He didn't look happy, but he did say, "What do we do?"
"Stay there a moment," I said, "Out of the way. There isn't much room for us to maneuver." Suresh sat there, basking in the afterglow, I guess, as I stood up. I wasn't wearing shoes either, so it was but a moment's work for me to shuck my own pants and underwear and kick them into the corner.
Suresh looked down at my cock. It was hard, of course. It had been hard since I'd started playing with Suresh's cock with the paper towels. I'm not huge, just amply endowed, 7 inches the last time I'd measured it (which was BEFORE I'd started pumping, so it was probably just a tad bigger now. Of course I hadn't pumped on THIS trip-now THAT would be a good story-so Suresh didn't have anything to be TOO scared of.)
I stood with my back against the wall opposite the sink, and told Suresh, "Get down, now." He did. Since he was facing me, my cock was sort of poking him in the belly. He looked down at it, then back at my face. "Are you SURE you don't want to try sucking me off?" I asked him.
"Quite sure," he said. "Let's get this over with."
"You're supposed to ENJOY this," I pointed out. "Other guys have. Of course they've also enjoyed sucking on it." I paused. "Hmmm," I added, "Maybe there's something WRONG with you! They can probably cure it, you know, give you shock treatments or hetanus shots or something. Tetanus shots prevent tetanus. Hetanus shots prevent narrow-mindedness."
Suresh looked at me impatiently. "Turn around," I told him. "Spread your legs and brace yourself on the sink." Then I looked down and realized I was unclad. Somehow I managed to bend down in that confined space (YOU try sometime bending down in an airplane lavatory with another naked guy in front of you.) I got hold of my pants and reached into my pocket and got out my wallet. I opened it one-handedly and pulled out a condom (I may not walk around with lube, but I DO walk around with condoms. I was a boy scout so I learned all about be prepared. To paraphrase Tom Lehrer, "If you come upon a boy scout who is similarly inclined…" I had. Luckily I'd been prepared THEN, too. But back to the airplane and THIS Story.
Suresh looked over his shoulder to see what was taking me so long. "I'm just protecting us," I said. "I always practice safe sex," I added. I unrolled the rubber down my turgid cock (or was it "tumescent?" I always get those two words confused.) I didn't have any lubricant (I was a BOY SCOUT, for heaven's sake, not an AUTO MECHANIC), but thought that the hand soap would be better than nothing.
I reached around Suresh (who, by the way, still had his shirt pulled over his head and behind his neck) and got hold of the soap. Luckily this was a classy airline (only the best for us), so they had bottles of hand soap, not a wall soap dispenser or those little bars of Ivory. I squirted some into my hand, then reached down for Suresh's crack, tight in front of me in the small confines of the airplane lavatory..
Suresh gave a start when he felt my fingers touch him. "Relax," I told him. "I need to lubricate you so it doesn't hurt." I started rubbing my fingers up and down his crack, brushing my fingers over his hole, but not entering. I wanted his nerves to get used to my touch. I reached for more soap. I pressed my middle finger against his hole. His sphincter muscles resisted. I pressed harder. They could not resist such as small object; my finger was soon inserted as far as it would go.
Suresh grunted in displeasure. I ignored him, and started wiggling my finger. I soon found his muscles relaxing, if but a little. With some effort I soon had a second finger inserted. That was, I feared, about as much as I could do.
I reached for the soap again. I spread a liberal amount on my latex-encased shaft. I pressed the tip against Suresh's hole. "Relax," I again suggest. "Then push out, like you're trying to take a shit. And brace yourself." Suresh spread his legs a little, and his arms stiffened as he held himself against the force of my penetration.
In my cock went. Suresh gave a short cry, as his muscles tried to adjust to my cock. I stood there, my belly hard against his back, my cock buried to the hilt. After a half minute or so, I pulled out a couple of inches, then pushed in again. Again I pulled out, only a couple of inches, before thrusting my hips forward. ` Suresh seemed to be adjusting, so I picked up the pace. And the length of my thrusts. Soon my cock was pulled out almost its full length before I rammed it back in. Once I got my rhythm, I looked for something to do with my hands. I encircle Suresh's chest. I felt his heart beating beneath one hand. I ran my hands over his smooth chest, until I found his tits.
I started playing with them. I'm not sure whether Suresh was enjoying it, but I sure was. His tits were soon hard points; maybe he WAS enjoying it. Too bad straight boys don't know what they're missing by ignoring their own tits and only playing with their girlfriend's. My cock was sliding in and out of Suresh's ass, my nerves sending jolts of pleasure with each thrust. My fingers were feeling a smooth, muscular chest. And the daring of fucking someone on an airplane over the middle of the Pacific Ocean added to the thrill. I looked down and realized Suresh's cock was starting to harden.
Suddenly I felt Suresh jerk in my arms. I realized I had found the magical spot buried deep in his ass. I repeated my thrust, aiming for the same spot.
Again Suresh jerked. Soon I was hitting it with just about every thrust. And Suresh was jerking. And tightening his ass muscles every time. At the rate I was going, I knew I would soon be cumming.
I came. It was nothing spectacular. I've had better fucks, and more willing bottoms. But never on an airplane. Five times I felt my cock thicken as the cum traveled up its length, only to be trapped by the rubber I wore. And then I felt SURESH spasming as HE came again; I guess my work on his prostate had done the trick. I watched over his shoulder as two strings of cum spurted from his cock, the first reaching the mirror in front of him, the second leaving a trail of goo across the sink to his cock. "I'll have to try this again sometime," I mused to myself.
I stood there for a moment, catching my breath. I reached down and took hold of the base of the rubber, and slowly withdrew my cock from Suresh's ass. I slowly unrolled the rubber from my cock. I discarded it in the trash container. I reached for paper towels and started wiping off my hands and Suresh's ass. That brought him out of his trance. "What now?" he asked.
"Stand there and let me clean you up." He stood there as I wiped his ass, then reached around and wiped off his cock. I handed him a couple of towels and told him, "You clean up the mirror. It's YOUR mess." I took another towel and wiped my own cock again. Then I told him, "Turn around and get back up on the sink."
I'm sure a hundred thoughts were going through Suresh's head-"What kind of sex he is up to NOW?" But it was nothing so dramatic. I just wanted to make some room so I could pull on my underwear and pants. Then I bent down and handed him his underwear so he could at least start to get "decent" again. He climbed off the sink as he pulled on his underwear.
Somehow he managed to pull his pants on in that tight space. Then he realized his shirt was still over his head and behind his neck. He bopped me in the nose as he maneuvered to get his shirt back covering his chest. Then I squirmed around him and managed to tuck in my shirt. I got a comb out of my pocket and straightened out my hair. Now we both looked sort of decent. Nobody would know what had just gone on, we would look normal. Except, of course, that two guys would both be coming out of the same lavatory. Well, it wouldn't hurt MY reputation.
"Let me go first," I said to Suresh. "Wait a couple of minutes before coming out." With that I opened the lavatory door slightly and slithered out, closing it firmly behind me. I looked around, only to spot the cute flight attendant I'd had my eye on the entire trip. I'm sure he saw me blushing, even in the dimmed light.
"Can't sleep, Mr. Jackson?" he smirked. Or maybe it was my imagination.
Anyway, I walked towards him, as much to distract him, in case Suresh came out of the lavatory early, as to get a closer look. "Too much wine, Jeff," I told him. I ALWAYS learn the names of the flight attendants. I always REMEMBER the names of the cute ones. And the ones I've done (there have been quite a few; maybe I travel too much).
Jeff looked over my shoulder and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Suresh coming out of the lavatory I'd just left. Suresh took a quick look at us, then almost ran the other way and down the aisle back towards his seat. "You know, Mr. Jackson," he said, smiling, "There are plenty of lavatories to go around. And if these are full, there are at the aft of the plane. You really don't have to share." Then he paused and smiled, "Wait right here, Mr. Jackson. I'll be right back."
I stood there, not sure what was going on. Jeff came back holding a couple of things in his hand. He handed me something. I looked down into my hand, then held it up closer to my face. It was a small set of wings, like airline crews wear. In the center was a blue circle with lettering, "Mile High Club." Jeff told me, "A couple of trips ago, one of the flight attendants had these made up. We give out one or two sets on just about every one of these long-haul flights. Here's one for your friend, too." Incidentally, I gave them to Suresh. I wear mine proudly when I travel; Suresh, I would guess, never wore his, lest he have to explain how or with whom he got them.
Then Jeff handed me something else. It was a business card with the airline's name. And Jeff's. And a phone number. "I'll be in Sydney for three or four days. I've done my quota for the month, so I have to wait until the first 'til I can head back to LA. Maybe you'll want to do dinner some night, or join the 300 foot club." I looked at him quizzically. "The airlines keeps a couple of rooms at the Sydney Hyatt. They're on the 30th floor," he told me.
I proudly sported TWO sets of club wings on my chest on my flight back home.