Flight Delay Fellatio

Cancelled. Delayed. Re-routed. Holiday travel can be aggravating and that day was no exception. It was two days after Christmas and I was stuck in Washington Dulles Airport...my flight home had been cancelled and the next one was five hours away.

I walked around the terminal aimlessly for awhile, looking for a good way to kill some time. There were few options: a newsstand, a fast food place, and a bar. With five hours to kill, getting trashed seemed a good an idea as any.

I took a seat at the bar, ordered a beer and waited for the time to pass. Sitting next to me were two pilots, unmistakable in their crisp uniforms and airline lapels. Thankfully, they were just drinking coke.

I didn't pay much attention to them initially, but did hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

"The plane's sitting by the gate ready to go, they just won't let us take off for another five hours," one of them mumbled. "We won't get to New York till midnight," said the other.

New York? That's where I was going. I looked over at my neighbors and got a better look. Both were older, perhaps in their fifties. One was particularly tall, maybe 6'3", while the other was around my height, maybe 5'8." Both were handsome in their own way.

The shorter pilot had a somewhat stocky, but fit build and a full head of salt and pepper hair. His clean shaven face and light blue eyes gave him an almost youthful appearance, albeit distinguished. The taller pilot, in contrast, was bald...although it suited him. He had a prominent nose and a muscular build...I could see his thighs tautly filling out his pants. His eyes were dark and contrasted his paler skin.

They were both the opposites of me in appearance. While they were older and distinguished, I still looked like a college student. Even though I was approaching 34, I had a youthful face and a slim build. Particularly in the sweatshirt and jeans I was wearing, I looked ten years my junior. My darker olive skin also set me apart from my bar-stool neighbors.

When I heard them mention New York, I interrupted their conversation and introduced myself as Max. The taller gentleman was Frank and the shorter one was John. They were, in fact, the pilots for my flight.

Both were friendly and with one beer in me, I found myself more gregarious than usual. Our conversation was light and topical, and I found Frank and John to be good company. We had killed about an hour chatting away, and were wondering what else there was to do.

Of course, my mind raced with naughty possibilities, but nothing to me indicated that either John or Frank were into gay sex. And save for a few glances at Frank's crotch, I gave no indication of how much I loved to suck cock.

John asked me if I'd ever been inside a cockpit and I replied I hadn't. They told me the plane was docked on the runway and they'd be happy to show me around if I wanted.

With four hours to go before take-off, I followed John and Frank through the gate and onto the runway, where we boarded the plane. It was empty, of course, and we all settled into the tiny cockpit. My new pilot friends sat by the controls while I sat in a seat behind them.

They showed me some of the controls on the dashboard. As we chatted amicably, Frank got up and closed the cockpit door and leaned against it—standing right next to me. I entertained many lascivious thoughts as Frank's crotch was now inches from my face. Enough so that my quick looks at Frank's crotch became more frequent. But again, he didn't seem to notice.

Frank checked his watch and sat back down in his pilots seat and exclaimed, "Well that's the cockpit."

Our conversation came to an awkward lull. In silence, John and I made eye contact for a few seconds...his eyes then slowly went straight to his own crotch and then back to me. I was absolutely stunned and couldn't quite believe it. I looked to Frank for explanation only to find him stroking his cock through his pants.

For a few moments, I was frozen...almost apprehensive at what was transpiring. As much as I fantasized about having fun with these guys, I didn't really think it was going to happen. But here they were, ready for action, and I was too much in shock to do anything.

My uneasiness quickly turned to lust as Frank unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants to reveal a stunning display of manhood. His breathtakingly large cock was pointing straight up—his equally breathtaking ball-sac was hanging low over his trousers. My mouth watered.

Without saying a word, I crawled over to Frank and got a closer look at his beautiful member. It was uncut and shaved and looked to be a good eight inches long. I kissed his shiny cock-head.

I looked up at Frank, maintaining eye contact as I ran my tongue down the underside of his shaft and then over and under his ball-sac. I then traced my tongue back up his shaft—when my tongue reached his cock-head again, I gave him the sluttiest smile I could muster and then proceeded to devour his cock.

As I massaged his balls, I bobbed my head up and down on his penis. His groans assured me I was doing a good job, so I kept at it. For the next twenty minutes my mouth and lips engulfed every inch of his cock as my tongue danced around his shaft. And when Frank couldn't take it anymore, he gave me what I needed.

I had his cock all the way down my throat...his balls were tickling my chin as my nose was against his pubic bone, buried in his sparse pubic hair. I could feel the head of Frank's cock against the back of my throat. Frank grabbed onto my shoulders, thrust himself even deeper, and unleashed a stream of cum that I expertly swallowed.

Frank must not have cum in days. His load kept pouring down my throat, and while I was able to swallow most of it, some of it accumulated in my mouth and dribbled down my chin. When Frank finally let go of every last drop, he collapsed into his chair...his slowly softening cock covered with a mixture of his cum and my saliva.

Frank looked at me and proclaimed, "That was the best blowjob I have ever had." I smiled a shy, yet gleeful smile. I'm a damn good cocksucker and I'm proud of it!

John, who I had almost forgot about, chimed in, "That was the best I've ever seen, that's for sure." The sizeable bulge in his pants was proof enough that he did, in fact, enjoy the show.

I would have shown John exactly how good my blowjobs are, but there was a knock at the cockpit door. Frank quickly zipped up and answered the door...it was a flight attendant telling us that our flight was going to leave sooner than scheduled, and they needed time to clean up the plane.

I quickly tried to wipe up any remaining drops of cum from my face as I left. The flight attendant, a pretty blonde woman, looked at me suspiciously as I left, but didn't say anything to me.

About an hour later, the plane boarded and I took my seat. I had cleaned up before boarding the plane, but could still taste Frank's cum. It put a lewd smile on my face.

After the plane was comfortably in the air, they started the beverage service...the same pretty blonde flight attendant, Beth, handed me a bottle of water and then whispered into my ear, "John wants to see you in the cockpit...after we're finished serving drinks, I'll let you in to see him." I wondered if she knew.

A few minutes later, Beth tapped me on the shoulder and I followed her to the front of the plane. She opened the cockpit door and let me in, and then closed it behind her as she left. John had the co-pilots seat turned towards me and wasted no time. He pulled down his pants and unveiled his manhood.

John's cock wasn't particularly long...like me, had had about six inches. But he was very thick. My hands, albeit small, could barely get around the circumference of his shaft.

I gave John the same service I gave Frank—a lustful coquettish blowjob. With intermittent eye contact and testicle massage, John was a very happy man. I playfully slapped his shiny erect member against my lips before I deep throated him. And with John balls deep down my throat, he unleashed a magnificent river of cum.

Amazingly, he had even more cum than Frank. For what seemed like well over ten seconds, he spurted load after load down my quickly swallowing throat. The first few seconds I was able to take it down, but after that it all gushed out of my mouth. My chin was coated with John's semen.

John laid back in his seat and gave me the same compliment that Frank had, "That was the best fucking head I've ever had." I loved hearing that. Frank, who was amazingly not too distracted while flying the plane, concurred, "you're an amazing cocksucker Max."

After he said that, I wanted to help myself to Frank's cock again, but there was another knock at the door. Beth, without waiting for anyone to respond, just walked in. John still hadn't pulled his pants back up and I was sitting on the floor with gobs of cum on my face. I was mortified.

But Beth, without so much as batting an eye, told us to get cleaned up as we were about to land soon. Red-faced, I wiped my face and walked back to my seat.

As I was leaving the plane, Beth pulled me aside and whispered into my ear, "You must be amazing...I didn't think anybody sucked cock better than me!" She handed me a scrap of paper with her number. "Call me," she said. "We'll have to compare notes sometime."