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Mike Khan ************************************************************* . F i v e M i l e H i g h C l u b . from "The Leatherjacket Tales" . by Mike Khan (Leatherman) *************************************************************
I remember the good old days of flying, when the great 747 fleet first graced the skies. It was the peak of the jet age and the world looked on us as the elite of the elite. We set the standard by which all commercial flying was judged. I recall how honoured I was the day I received my flight attendant wings, my first flight, my promotion to purser. Ahh yes, the past was beautiful. No low budget airlines, no TWA scabs, no imminent fear of bankruptcy. We flew with pride and proved our service was the best. I worked the New York to Frankfurt run as often as I could. Of course, that one day still stands out strongly in my memory.
We were late boarding for the flight. I had gone from the plane into the passenger waiting area. There I noticed him for the first time. He was so handsome-tall, brown hair, high-cheek boned with deep blue eyes and manly tanned face. His moustache accented his perfect smile. Our eyes met. I felt like a school boy who is having the first crush on his teacher. As I walked back to the plane, I glanced back at him only to find him looking at me, grinning like someone with a secret he is aching to tell. I notice he was tall and well framed, even in his business suit.
I returned to my post in the first class cabin and waited to see if he would be seated near my position. Alas, he was not amongst the first class group. I sighed as we closed the doors. One of the stewardess in the aft of the economy cabin called me to come to the rear galley. I carefully checked each passenger as I walked down the aisle, trying to give the appearance that I was inspecting seat belts when in reality I was looking for him. I was perplexed as I failed to find him. The disappointed look disappeared from my face as I walked back towards the first class cabin. There, in seat 23 A, was my handsome stranger.
"Excuse me," he asked, " but what is the flying time to Frankfurt?" I laughed and replied with the 7 and 1/2 hour flight time along with the complete routing that flight 66 would be taking that evening. He thanked me and as I told him I hope i could be of service to him during the flight, he chuckled saying, "I'm sure you will be".
The flight finally took off with its usual 45 minute delay. All during the meal service I kept finding excuses to walk about the cabin to steal a glance at my friend in 23 A. When the meal service was ended in the back, the movie began. I brought 23A a glass of champagne. We spoke casually about this and that, but our eyes were glued to each others during the conversation. I was anxious for the meal service to end. It seemed to be an eternity. All I wanted to do was be with 23A. Finally, the service ended, the passengers were either as soundly asleep as they could be in an airplane, except those in First class who comfortably lounged in their sleeperette seats. The crew was beginning to rest. I went into the bathroom to fix appearance. I looked at my eyes in the small mirror. They seemed to me like two brown dots that were overworked. I combed my longish brown hair into place, even combing my moustache. I then proceeded to 23A.
My friend was asleep in his seat. I sat next to him. The presence of my body caused him to awaken. We spoke. I had a great idea. I decided to give him a tour of the plane. We walked towards the galley elevator. I saw my closest friend, Steve, who was working the flight with me. I nodded at him and he knew what he had to do. Meanwhile, my new friend and I went down to the lower galley.
The lower galley no longer exists in our fleet of planes, but oh, I tell you, I was glad we had it that day.
My companion and I entered the empty galley. The lighting was dim. The drone of the jet engines could be heard louder than before. We spoke without as much fear of being heard. I could see the bulge in his suit. As we looked into each others eyes, our lips suddenly met and we began to embrace. Our kissing became more passionate, my tongue working against the inside of his mouth with our lips hard pressed. THE heat of our longing grew. I started to kiss his neck, rubbing my hand over his crotch area. I felt his hard organ beneath his clothes. I unbuttoned his shirt and began to suck on his erect nipples. Slowly, I worked my way down to his pants. My hand worked his cock out from under them. It was hard and erect. My tongue licked the head and slowly went around the shaft. As I sucked on his immense organ, my fingers worked their way around back and began to tease his tight asshole. He moaned as I took his shaft deep into my throat. "Oh, yeah,"he groaned in excitement"uuuhhhhhhhhh...Fuck me, please, fuck me" he asked as he moved his body in response to my work.
I stopped sucking on him and stood up, removing the last of his clothes. He looked beautiful, standing naked in the galley. I knew I had time as Steve was above keeping guard and would signal me in plenty of time if there was trouble. By now my own uniform was on the floor. He was rubbing his hands over my hairy chest and worked them down to my cock. He knelt before me and took my eight inch organ into his mouth, making it more erect with each sucking movement.
I then forced him to stand again. I turned him against the galley counter. I stretched his arms out and tied them with some cord that was in one of the holds tightly to the counter. His feet were spread, legs apart, and ass ready for action. I took some butter that was handy and used it to lube his hole. I soon positioned myself behind him and began to work my hard cock into his waiting hole. He moaned,"slowly...ahhhh, slowly." As I pushed into him he began to beg me to push in deeper, deeper, and deeper-until the full length of my shaft was in him. I began to ram hard into his ass. My balls slapped against his smooth, firm buns. Harder and deeper I worked in the dim lights. Here we were, 36000 or more feet up above the North Atlantic, fucking our brains out in the galley of a Boeing aircraft. If the designers only knew. I wanted him more with each movement. My body tingled in great pleasure as my cock moved into and out of his aching lovehole. His ass felt tight and warm as I rammed harder, almost without mercy into his bond body. He begged me to shoot my load. As I burned his ass with my cock, I reached my hand around and worked his hard tool. I slowed my pace and played with the head of his cock. This added to his own excitement. He was wild with passion. I began to fuck him hard again. As I forced my organ into him, I slapped his ass with my hand. Each slap was harder than the one before. The sound of the engines drowned out his moans. I continued again to play with his ripe cock, twisting it in one hand as I squeezed his balls with the other. I could hardly stand it myself much longer. We were moving as one being. "I'm cumming!" he groaned. I felt his body stiffen and he tightened the muscles of his hole around my cock as his own cock relieved itself of its juices. I rammed harder into his tightened hole, my cock becoming more sensitive until at last I shot my own load deep inside of him.
I pulled my organ from its warm enclosure and untied my victim. We kissed and then quickly dressed as I noticed the warning light, which was Steve's prearranged signal, flash. I help my friend back to 23 A and, very satisfied, I returned to clean up any signs of our fun in the galley.
I was happy to learn later in the flight that he would be staying at the Intercontinental just as the crew would be. We decided to meet in the lobby and we spent that day and night together until I had to leave to work the return flight back to New York. I remember that trip so well. But, even all wonderful memories have their flaw. In all that time, I forgot to ask him his name.