Jim Q.
Stevenson had been a pilot for thirteen years now. He had started out at one of
the major airlines but then managed to fall into a job as a private contractor.
It had meant less flight time for him but more money at the same time. A dream
job, really. It had been hard to say no to it, even when it meant that he spent
most of his time in the sky and very little of it on the ground.
Jim was
in his late thirties now, still in the prime of his life, muscles ripped from
going to the gym three days a week. With his thick blonde hair and piercing
blue eyes, it wasn’t surprising that he had been hit on by any number of
stewardesses and passengers alike. He’d been given any number of opportunities
to join that Mile High Club.
Just
never like this.
Today, he
was carrying only one passenger in his small, private jet. She had chartered
him for a flight from New York to San Francisco, nonstop, which meant they
would be in the air for the better part of a day. And apparently, the lady knew
what she wanted to do to pass the time.
She sat
in one of the four executive seats in the passenger area of the plane,
completely naked.
There had
been clothes on her body when she boarded the plane, of course. A tight-fitting
red dress under a plain brown coat. Once the coat was off, it was easy to tell
she wasn’t wearing a bra. Just as easy to tell she was looking for something
from Jim. They’d taken off right on schedule, but as soon as he had advised she
could take her seatbelt off, she had slipped into the bathroom and come out again
naked as the day she was born.
Not that
she had looked anything like that on the day she was born. She was a full-grown
woman now. She had long legs that went all the way up to a very fine ass, and
the way she sprawled now in the seat showed just a hint of the dark cleft in
her crotch. Her breasts were full and round and the nipples pointed ever so
slightly upward. Her stomach was tight and flat. Her shoulders were hidden
behind the fall of her long, dark hair. She sucked on the end of one long
fingernail. And the only thing she was wearing, was a smile.
He choked
and nearly sent the plane into a nosedive when he first caught sight of her
like that. Correcting his course, he tried to keep his attention on the skies.
But it
was getting harder. So was his cock. Very, very hard.
“You
know,” she said to him, “you could always put it on autopilot for a few…hours.”
Her voice
was warm and silky and full of desire. They were the only two on the plane. And
Jim thought to himself, suddenly, why not?
They
wouldn’t need to make a course correction for another four hours. Smiling to
himself, the crotch of his dress slacks very, very tight, he set the controls
in place to maintain their current heading and stood up from the captain’s
chair.
She
leered at him as he stepped toward her.
“Stop
right there,” she said.
He did,
confused.
“Take
your clothes off,” she ordered him. “I want to see you first.”
Oh, so
that was the game. He undid his tie and threw it to her. She smelled it, let
the long strip of cloth run past her nose. Then she rubbed it down lower on her
body and pulled every inch of it across her vagina, a high-pitched whine in her
throat as she did.
As she
continued to rub herself with his tie he unbuttoned his white shirt. Taking it
off he dropped it to the cabin floor. He wore a t-shirt under it, and it came
off as well. She stared at his chest, his abdominal muscles, petting herself
with his tie and biting her lower lip.
Next, he
unbuckled his belt and pants and let them slide down his legs. Underneath he
was wearing a pair of low-rise briefs, and his cock swelled against them. It
was getting painful for him to be held in like that, but he was going to make
her wait for it. He was enjoying this game, where she told him what she wanted.
It made his blood hot. So did that body she was masturbating.
He kicked
off his shoes and socks, and then stood there with his
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