Chicago was receding quickly in the distance, its grid of streetlights fading to a glow of patterned city blocks against the deep black stillness of the lake. We climbed higher, gaining altitude on the first leg of our trip across the Atlantic, bound for England at Christmastime, December 1992.
She sat rigid beside me, hands clenched, knuckles white against the metal of the armrests. We'd had a drink while waiting in the airport, and she'd just ordered another from our flight attendant in his white and blue uniform, slightly rumpled. Cute, though. Maybe if she got sufficiently drunk she'd relax enough to survive this trip. I was matching her drink for drink...they were free, after all, and we were on vacation.
"How are you doing?"
"Not too bad. You?"
"I'm fine. You know I love flying."
"I hate you."
She didn't mean it, of course. Eight years of friendship couldn't be cancelled out by a little acrophobia. But I resolved to be a little more careful what I said. Time was passing much too slowly.
Three hours later; almost halfway to England. I, for one, was thoroughly bored and that rumpled flight attendant with the shock of Midwestern brown hair and mindless calf eyes was starting to look more and more inviting. In an effort to distract her, we'd been complaining about our respective ex-boyfriends and talking about the joys of sex through the last two or three drinks, and both of us were now horny as hell. That one of us was bi, and the other one straight only added to our frustration. We'd gotten to that sad point when we boasted about all the strange places we'd done it, and all the odd people we'd done it with.
"Want to join the mile-high-club?"
"With whom? The pimply flight attendant?"
Surrounding us were hordes of British families, little kids curled into each other, the seats, their parents. All heading home for the holidays. Not a single lonely man in sight.
"Hey, babe, I got an idea."
"Uh huh. I remember your last idea. Almost got us thrown in jail. And those two guys weren't worth it."
"This is much, much better. Just think of those poor lonely pilots in the cabin. They must be so bored, flying this plane on automatic across miles and miles of empty ocean. I bet they're just sitting back and dreaming of a pair of nubile, 21-yr-old college students fulfilling their every desire."
"And you want to fulfill their fantasies, right?"
"Well, maybe not all of their fantasies. They probably ought to keep their hands on the equipment. But we could provide a little...entertainment? I dare you to."
"I dare you to."
"We're not kids anymore."
We thought about it for a while. As we worked out the strictly hypothetical details, it became more and more tempting. The perfect way to relieve boredom, maybe relieve a little frustration, and forget about the two idiots we'd left in Chicago. After all, we were single again now. No ties, no responsibilities. And it would be a hell of a lot of fun.
"Here goes nothing."
Hell of a flight. The typical crying kids for the first two hours, then, just when they had all fallen asleep, a drunk guy in first class started complaining about how he couldn't sleep and the drinks were weak and the service was lousy. It had taken two blankets, three pillows and my own copy of Playboy to shut him up. Why do people think that the life of a flight attendant is all fun and games? Jetting to Hawaii isn't nearly as exciting when you have to turn around and head to Kansas City half an hour later.
The only bright spot was the pair of babes in aisle thirty. I could've sworn the dark-haired one, who looked Hispanic, winked at me the last time I went by. Hey, they're buzzing me.
"Don't worry, Rina, I'll get it."
"Thanks, Mike, I'm crashing."
"Don't say that too loud."
Hah. I crack me up. Well, let's see what they want. Probably just a pillow.
"Hello, ma'am, what can I do for you?"
"Well, it's kind of complicated. See, my friend here, she's always wanted to be a pilot, and she'd really love to get a look at the cockpit. It's so quiet now, we thought it might be a good time."
"Ummm...well, I'm not sure if the captain would approve of that, ma'am".
"But you could ask, couldn't you?"
"Sure thing. Just hold on a minute."
Well, Tony didn't seem to mind too much, since it was so quiet and such a slow flight. So I brought them forward. Then things got really weird.
"What's your name, captain?"
"I'm Tony, miss, and my co-pilot here is Christopher, and that's Mike, your flight attendant, over by the door."
"Must be pretty boring for you up here..."
"Well, we have to check the instruments fairly often - every twenty minutes or so."
The blond looked over at the Hispanic girl, and asked, "Do you think twenty minutes is enough?" She replied, "Should be plenty. Check your instruments, please, gentlemen." and coolly, calmly, started unbuttoning her shirt.
"Now, gentlemen, we'd like you to settle a little bet for us, if you don't mind. My friend and I were debating which of us could do the best strip-tease. We'd like to demonstrate for you, and ask you to judge, if that's okay with you?"
None of us were about to object, that was for sure. The blond came over to me, and pushed me over a bit so I was leaning against the door. Then she leaned against a wall and watched the show.
The Hispanic girl had long wavy black hair, almost to her waist, swinging loose behind her back. She had been wearing a sort of lacy black sweater, but she'd just finisehd unbuttoning it and was slipping it off, one smooth brown shoulder at a time. Underneath was a cropped white tank and a long, loose black skirt.
"What's next, guys, shirt or skirt?"
"Hey, no fair asking for advice!"
She shimmied out of the skirt, leaving it in a pool of black fabric on the floor of the cockpit. Her legs were bare now, a creamy brown line from black lace panties down to the top of black boots, laced up to mid-calf. She raised her right leg, and placed it gently in Christopher's lap.
"Could you help me with my laces, captain?"
"He's the co-pilot.", Tony quickly interjected. "I'm the captain."
"That's okay, captain, you can do the other one."
Chris quickly unlaced the boot and removed it, rubbing his hands over her calf and down the arch of her foot as he did so. She shivered as she pulled her leg away, and placed her left leg on Tony's lap. He took a little longer, sliding his hands up to mid-thigh, until she pulled away, shaking her head.
"Not nice, captain. There's a wedding ring on that finger."
"Sure you are."
She crossed her arms in front of her, and took hold of the bottom of the white tank, pulling it up over her head and shaking her hair free. She must have liked black, because her bra was black too, lace to match the panties. The bra looked a little small for her large breasts, which were spilling out of the top, their dark nipples barely visible through the lace.
"Would you undo the clasp for me?"
I think my fingers were trembling a little, and they must have been ice-cold, because she whimpered a bit when I touched her back. I had a little trouble with the clasp, but I finally got it free. I didn't have the nerve to touch her the way the captain had, but I could smell her perfume as she leaned close. She smelled like apples.
She turned to face us all again, and slowly, teasingly, pulled her bra straps off her shoulders, letting the bra fall to the floor to join the pile of black and white clothing. She had huge breasts, maybe as big as the girls in Playboy, but a lot darker than most of theirs. Her dark brown nipples stuck straight out, maybe from the cold in the air-conditioned cockpit. She slid her hands down her body, curving them around her breasts and across her slightly rounded stomach. She stuck out her hip a little, and hooked her finger in the black lace of her panties...then paused.
She walked over to Christopher.
"Chris? Would you mind helping me get these off? With your teeth?"
Chris looked startled for a second, but quickly nodded. He leaned towards her, and gently took her panties in his teeth. I couldn't see very well in the darkened cockpit, but it took him an awfully long time to get them off and she was making these little noises and sort of swaying back and forth, so I guess he was helping her out a little. He finally slid them down her thighs and calves and she stepped out of them, swinging her hair around her as she turned to face us.
"Well, guys, how do I rate?"
We quickly and unanimously voted her a perfect ten. The blond was sort of smiling, sort of frowning, and beckoned her over for a whispered conversation.
"You cheated so badly. And you got off - don't deny it!"
"I won't. I'll concede you the moral victory if you want to back out and go back."
"Oh no you don't. You can just stand there...and I don't care if you're cold, don't you dare put your clothes back on...and watch me. But I'm changing the rules a little."
"Whatever makes you happy."
The blond grinned as they finished talking. She walked over to Tony, hips swinging.
"It seems that my friend got you guys all hot and bothered, but wasn't thoughtful enough to take care of that little problem. So Chris, I want you to get up and come over here. Don't worry about the plane - I'm sure it'll be fine."
She reached back and pulled her hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall forward over her face, veiling its sharp angles and wicked eyes. Then she quickly kicked off her shoes, unzipped her jeans and struggled out of them, sighing in relief when she got them off. She said over her shoulder to her friend,
"Remind me to wear looser clothes on the trip back."
She then slid off her white panties, baring smooth creamy-pink skin and fuzzy blond hair, leaving herself dressed only in a long blue shirt. She turned to Chris and unbuttoned his pants, unzipping the fly and pulling them down a little to reveal his cock, fully erect. She grinned at him, and said, "I think you can find a place to put that" as she knelt down, facing away from him and towards Tony. She then reached over to Tony, but he'd already pulled out his cock, and offered it to her waiting mouth. She went down on it hard, and he just closed his eyes and smiled as her head started bobbing up and down, her hair shielding his lap from view.
Chris hesitated again, looking uncertainly at the dark-haired girl leaning against the wall. She shrugged, and smiled at him. He shook his head a little, then turned to his duffelbag, stowed securely in a compartment. After poking through it a bit, he pulled out a condom and put it on. I sort of thought that ruined the wildness of it all, but Chris is British, and he's the careful type. It didn't take him long to slide his cock into her waiting cunt, though. She moaned at that, and then her head started moving faster, as Chris quickly started moving back and forth, his arms curving around her small body.
I looked at the naked dark-haired girl, but she shook her head at me, hair waving a little in the air-conditioned breeze.
"Sorry, kid. I've got my own problems. Maybe next time."
So I started jerking myself off in the corner. I was a little embarassed at first, but the whole thing was so unreal, with these two beautiful women coming out of nowhere, doing stuff that none of the girls I knew would ever do, that I couldn't stay embarassed for long. I wated the blond's head whipping back and forth as the three of them moved faster and faster, Chris's hands clenched tight around her small breasts, then sliding over her ribs. Tony suddenly moaned, after being completely silent for so long. Seconds later, Chris and the girl suddenly stopped moving, and a sort of choked whimper came from behind the curtain of her hair. The blond leaned back into Chris's arms and they stayed still for a little while. I was still jerking myself off, and staring at the Hispanic girl's breats, gently moving up and down as she breathed, nipples still hard from the cold. I guess she felt sorry for me, because a second later she was kneeling in front of me and her mouth fell over my cock, sliding warmly down its length. I came immediately, spilling cum into her mouth which she swallowed almost eagerly. Nobody'd ever done that to me before.
They both got up and got dressed in silence. Then they turned towards us just before opening the door.
"Well, guys? Who won?"
There was no way we could answer that question. A slightly uncomfortable silence filled the small room. The blond shook her head, smiled, and opened the door. She took her friend's hand and pulled her through. And they were gone.
"There's no way we'll settle the bet now."
"Not after the way you cheated, anyway."
"I, cheated? You cheated first."
"Only a little. And I thought you had sworn yourself to celibacy."
"Well, people change."
"I guess so."
"So what do we do about the bet?"
"There's still all of London, you know."
"That's true. Hotel clerks, waiters..."
"Museum guards, theater ticket sellers..."
"And if we get bored, Scotsmen and their kilts aren't far at all, lassie..."
Her perfect Scots accent cracked me up, and we dissolved into mutual hilarity. A British man across the aisle frowned at the noise, no doubt thinking it improper at such a late hour. We laughed some more at that, until she started yawning. It was only two more hours to London, but that was enough time to catch a little sleep. She was looking more relaxed than I'd seen her in weeks, despite being in a small metal machine very far up over a very deep ocean. Maybe this really had worked.
"You do have to promise me one thing."
"Whatever makes you happy, babe."
"When we talk about this, years from now, promise me no jokes about cockpits?"
I grinned. "Promise."