One Long Flight

Serena poked her head into the cockpit, and seeing that both pilots were on board, slid inside and closed the door behind her.

"You boys need anything?"

One man turned in his captain's chair to look at the stewardess. The other, the actual captain, didn't even move, but he was the one who answered in a rich Texan drawl.

"Nothing yet, darling." He was busy working through the safety protocol and his eyes never left the notebook on the dashboard. "But we can use some bottles of water before the cattle loads in."

"You got it, sir," she said.

The co-pilot eyed her up and down, making no effort to hide his lascivious hunger. He even licked his lips as his gaze vacuumed up the prodigious swell of her bosom in her tight blue uniform. Serena was surprised his eyes didn't bulge a foot out of their sockets like horny wolves in those old cartoons.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you sure do fill that little outfit out. Screw the water, I'm thirsty now."

Serena tittered politely and shook her head in an indulgent "boys will be boys" way. Her hair, thick auburn wrapped up tight in a professional bun, didn't budge.

As she turned to walk out, the co-pilot gave her ass a hearty slap. She knew it was coming, but it still sent a thrill through her. Now it was the captain's turn to shake his head.

Serena closed the door behind her and paused for a moment in the forward bulkhead. The co-pilot was Kerry Holt, a no-good sonofagun, but a hell of an airman. She had often worked his crew flying the Atlanta-LAX run over the past year. A year in the sky is like four on the ground; you go through some shit, you form a tight bond with your crew. You learn about them, about their dreams and fears, their stories and their jokes.

One thing she had learned about Holt was that he was packing serious heat. Even thinking about the eight-inch coke can waiting in his pants gave her another shiver. Many a red-eye had included a midnight fuck, and he had taken to shoving her panties in her mouth to keep her screams from reaching the cabin as he pistoned in and out of her eager snatch behind the cockpit door.

The captain was Steve Murray, whom Serena had met for the first time only 20 minutes earlier. He and Holt had wheeled their suitcases down the jetway while she was speaking to the gate attendant. Murray looked straight out central casting for a 1950s Pan Am pilot. He was cordial and warm in their short introductions, but she saw his eyes canvass her body while they shook hands. She wouldn't have expected -- or wanted -- anything less.

The passengers would be boarding any minute, but Serena slid into the bathroom. She hiked up her thigh-length dark blue skirt. She'd always had a thing for men in uniform, and the attention from these two masculine specimens had gotten her hot. Sure enough, her pink thong already had a large oblong wet blotch in the front. Dammit, and in her rush to the airport she'd forgotten to put in a liner. She sighed and pulled the underwear down her smooth legs and wadded it into her pocket.

A memory floated into her head of a conversation, years ago over late-night cocktails, when she'd admitted to some flight attendant friends how much moisture she could produce when aroused, even before physical stimulation. How shocked they'd been! Over the years, she'd learned to keep extra pair or two of panties in her carry-on. She would slip back to the crew baggage nook to grab them in a moment.

Gathering some toilet paper, she wiped down her pussy. No matter what might happen after take-off, she couldn't afford to be distracted as the first-class passengers filtered in. She needed to be as charming and engaging as could be to get the fives and tens flowing out of their wallets.

The toilet paper was coarse, one-ply shit -- corporate bastards cut back everywhere they could -- but the pressure on her hairless cunt was amazing. Even as she intended to nip her horniness in the bud, she found she had ditched the toilet paper and was rubbing her clit at full speed.

She splayed her left hand against the mirror for balance as her legs tightened, then spasmed. Her breath came in sharp jabs and the familiar warmth spread out from the space behind her pussy into her stomach and down her thighs. Her fingers were dripping with her wetness. She barely suppressed a moan as her climax swept over her.

Half a minute later, her breathing had slowed and the blood had mostly drained from her face. She produced a comb from some hidden pocket and got the stragglers from her bun back in the line. She washed her hands, then took a slow, long breath and looked at herself in the mirror. This wasn't how she'd intended this shift to start, but no harm done. Now to just dip out, grab her new panties, pop back in the --

The door rattled with several knocks. "Serena, what are you doing?" It was her colleague Jeanie. "Boarding has started, we need you out here."

Damn, Serena swore at herself. That little session must have taken longer than she thought.

"Dang, sorry Jeanie, be right out!"

Fuck, she couldn't leave Jeanie to welcome all the first-class passengers herself. They expected personal attention from a pretty, smiling stewardess; it was part of the huge markup on the tickets. She didn't even have time to put her wet panties back on. She had to get out there now.

She opened the door. Jeanie's face was wrinkled in a look of annoyance, but she must have caught a whiff of the pussy smell lingering in the bathroom.

"OK porn star, let's go."

Serena walked to the open exit door. Indeed, several passengers had already taken their seats in the first few rows. Serena plastered her work smile on her face and got down to business.

A gust of cold air swept in from the jetway. It was February after all. The frost worked its way up her legs and to her bare pussy. She rubbed her legs together to warm up and smiled as a family of four walked through the door, children yelling and parents dragging a mountain of bags.

******

It had been a hectic start to the day. As usual, the flight was overbooked, so they were packed to the gills. Serena, Jeanie and the rest of the flight crew were swamped getting everyone settled in, with their bags stowed and kids buckled up, not to mention offering coffee and tea to the high rollers in first. She hadn't had to time to even think about putting on a new thong before the plane was at 20,000 feet and it was time to make a routine check on the cockpit.

She slipped through the door and locked it behind her, per protocol. For all the hubbub in the cabin, it had been smooth sailing for the pilots. Captain Murray was calmly monitoring the various screens and gauges, but Holt swiveled his head at the sound of the door.

"Hey honey, what's kept you so long?" he drawled. "I've needed to drain for an hour already."

She rolled her eyes at his deliberate crudeness but sidled up behind their seats all the same. Holt's calloused hand extended back and wrapped around one smooth, tanned leg. She stood motionless as the rough palm rubbed against her, oscillating from the pit of her knee to the top of her thigh. The summit of each revolution increased until his fingertips were grazing the dimpled flesh of her ass cheek.

"Hoo, honey I've been looking forward to this since I woke up this morning. I been thinking about --"

He suddenly cut himself off as his roving fingers moved farther up the crescent of her cheek. She felt them roving this way and that, into the crevice of her crack and up to the waist of her skirt, searching for something but not finding it. Through it all, Murray continued working as if he was alone in the cockpit.

Finally, as Holt's hand circled over the threshold of her crack to the other cheek, he came to the truth.

"Haha! You believe this buddy?" he chuckled, nudging an implacable Murray. "She's so ready to fuck she's not even wearing panties! You been walking around like this the whole flight?"

Serena smiled and the color rose in her bronze face, but she rolled with it.

"Maybe I have," she said. She loved this part, the moment before the sex began. Playing it coy when everyone knows what's coming. Excited anticipation filled her stomach, not like butterflies but a jet engine of lust.

Holt's fingertips crawled between her cheeks and found her hidden wetness. Sure enough, just the past few moments of attention had started Serena's waterworks again. Holt's fingers rubbed across her slippery slit, gathering moisture and working her clit. Serena closed her eyes and pressed her body down on the roving fingers. They were rough, but Holt knew exactly how to use them. A small sound escaped her mouth, somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

"What a perfect slut," Holt said, more reflectively now. "This smooth cunt. You're fucking, goddamn perfect."

Serena's breath quickened as he worked her clit for another moment, then he found the groove between her lips and slid two thick fingers inside her. She inhaled sharply then moaned in pleasure. Two fingers would have been way too much for her to take a year ago, but that was before putting in her 10,000 hours on Holt's big cock.

Her eyes opened and sure enough she saw his bulge growing in Holt's groin. She watched his fat cock force its way against his gray slacks. She bit her lip as Holt caressed her clit with his thumb and pumped his index and middle fingers in and out of her pussy.

"That's it baby, that's it," Holt cooed up to her. "Your pussy is fucking perfect."

Serena dropped all pretense and ground her pussy against the welcome invasion, moaning with each thrust. The unmistakable smell of her juices wafted up from beneath her skirt and in some corner of her mind she realized she felt liquid trickling down the inside of one thigh.

Holt curved his grip and his expert fingers immediately found her g-spot. Serena had to grip the backs of the chairs in front her to stay upright as her legs turned to jelly. His fingers picked up speed, pounding her most sensitive area over and over. The wet squelching sounds from her pussy and her own ragged moans filled the room. Her face went slack as her orgasm built up inside her.

Just as she was about to cum, Holt withdrew his fingers with a short slurpppp. Startled, Serena whimpered and looked around the room trying to get her bearings. Holt chuckled.

"You're not gettin' off that easy, sweet cheeks," he said, his tone again teasing and bawdy. One hand dropped to grab his bulging crotch. "I saw you eyeing this monster. Let's you and him reacquaint yourselves."

Holt unbuckled his seatbelt and rose from his chair. Serena was still blinking, trying to center herself after her orgasm was so cruelly denied. Her roving gaze landed on the back of Captain Murray's perfectly square crew cut. He was still doing an admirable job of ignoring the hi-jinx around him, monitoring the dials, meters and screens on the dashboard and tweaking the plane's speed and altitude with gentle adjustments on the throttle and pedals.

Serena was still considering the captain's impressive focus when she felt a firm grip on her shoulder pushing her to her knees. She obeyed the forceful guidance, spinning to face Holt as she dropped to the floor. As her knees hit the thin carpet of the cockpit, she came face to face with Holt's massive cock.

Somehow, both his thick shaft and his entire scrotum were sprouting from the narrow opening of his fly, and the head of his dick bobbed in the air just an inch or two from Serena's nose. She inhaled deeply, and the scent of cock swam up her nostrils. Holt was a bastard, but damn if he didn't have a beautiful package. His shaved ball sack was wrinkled and tight against the underside of his shaft, just the way she liked it. She bit her lip again and looked up at Holt with wide doe eyes, knowing how playing the innocent drove him wild.

He smirked down at her. She inched toward the beast in front of her, but Holt grabbed the tight bun of her hair and held her head in place. Her open mouth was mere millimeters away from his cock. She probably could have licked the very tip if she stretched out her tongue.

"Such an eager slut," Holt drawled above her. "You really want to suck this big boy. I think you should at least say please."

A shiver ran down Serena's spine. She loved to play games. She pulled against his iron grip on her bun, feeling the strands of hair pull taut all over the back and top of her head.

"Please. Pretty please," she said, looking up at his smirk, which had only grown wider and more predatory.

"Pretty please what, darling?"

"Please, can I suck your cock?"

Serena was surprised to hear a chuckle from Murray, the first inkling that he was aware of the circus going on around him. She saw Holt look toward the captain and wink roguishly. Her head lunged forward toward his erection.

There was no seductive licking, no timid suckling at the tip; no, they'd done this dance too many times before. Serena's mouth engulfed Holt's cock as far as she could take him, which admittedly was not very far. She opened her mouth as wide as possible to accommodate his thickness, but she could only take the first three inches.

In an instant, her mouth was suffused with the taste and feel of his cock. It pressed up against her hard palate, forcing her tongue flat behind her teeth; her lips wrapped tight around the shaft. The sensation was so intense, so dominating of her senses, her entire essence was focused on this oral invasion. She tried to remember to breathe evenly out of her nose.

Holt's hand, which had been pressed to the back of her head, fell to his side, and he straightened into a kingly stance, surveying his kingdom and his single subject. She curled one dainty hand behind his balls, caressing them as she sucked. She felt his cock flex in her mouth as spurt of pre-cum landed on her tongue and was quickly swallowed.

She serviced him for several minutes. She had fully lost herself in her task when one over-aggressive thrust forced his cock too far down her throat, and she gagged and pulled away. As if waking from a fugue, Serena was suddenly aware of the throb of the plane against her kneeling legs. A stream of spit had trickled out of the corner of her mouth down to her chin. It dangled for a moment in a saliva icicle before she wiped it away with her free hand, hoping to avoid a stain on her crisp uniform.

Holt took the break in the action as an opportunity to hook his fingers under her arms and lift her to her feet. He yanked her skirt up over her ass, exposing her panty-less bottom. She let him turn her around and bend her over his empty chair, her head toward Murray, who was only a few feet away. Holt slapped her ass hard, twice on her right cheek, once on her left, leaving bright red handprints on both. She edged her feet out in both directions, searching for leverage, eventually wedging one foot under the console.

"I'm going to destroy your wet pussy, girly."

"Unggg, fuck yes, do it."

Holt grabbed his cock and dropped the head above her ass. She could feel the weight and heat of it against her lower back. He let it slide slowly down, the thick head forcibly separating her ass cheeks. She shivered again as it rubbed against her asshole. Finally, it was lined up with her pussy, and she was so wet that it entered her easily despite its size.

Holt had had plenty of practice with his instrument, and he only inserted the first inch before starting to pull out. That was enough to elicit a loud exhalation from Serena, who was trying to stifle a moan. He slapped her ass again in approval, then slid gently back inside her. He began to fuck her slowly. After a few thrusts, he pushed his full length inside her.

"OH FUCK," she almost screamed. She'd fucked him so many times before, but she somehow was never quite prepared for that first full thrust.

Holt slapped her ass again, this time hard in warning. She gulped. "Hush up, girl. You ain't got no panties for me to shove in there to clam you up." Lost in the moment, it didn't occur to her that her wadded-up thong was still in the pocket of her uniform.

Still, he continued fucking her. The chair bounced and rattled against its moorings as the action built in intensity. His cock felt incredible inside Serena, and she was grunting and moaning in tandem with his thrusts. She knew she should be quieter, but she couldn't help herself. She was a loud fuck. So sue me, she thought.

She wormed one hand down between her legs and rubbed her clit while Holt pounded her. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, and she was no longer in control of her vocalizations, which had become purely rhythmic and almost animalistic. The sensations radiating out from her cunt were too overwhelming. She came in a blur of sensory overload, but before she knew it, she could feel the next orgasm building in its wake. She barely registered Holt grabbing her by the hair, and she certainly didn't hear him as he told her to shut the hell up.

Holt couldn't help himself, either. He wasn't afraid of the rest of the flight crew selling him out. No, they were a team up here. Us against them. It was the "them" that he was worried about. How long could the crew keep those nosy first-class fuckers from forcing them to check on that weird noise from the cockpit? He knew if he got caught he'd certainly lose his job, and probably his pilot's license. Would jail time be a possibility? Holt thought it would.

But the dangerous thrill only compounded the truly ecstatic pleasure he felt in his cock. Part of him wanted to stop, wanted to shut this bitch up right now, but he simply couldn't. The concept of pulling out of her seemed insane. Not when it felt this fucking good and she was such an exquisite fuck. Instead of stopping, he just watched his shaft disappear again and again between her ass cheeks and into that perfect wet warmth.

In desperation, he looked over to Murray. "Can't you shut this bitch up? Do something, god dammit!"

Murray sighed and dropped his hands from the control wheel. He turned to his co-pilot, who was looking almost deranged with his captain's cap askew and sweat pouring down his face. He saw the girl stretched over the seat next to him. You'd think she was down for the count if not for the waterfall of moans and grunts cascading from her slack mouth. Without saying a word, Murray flipped the controls to autopilot, then stood and unbuckled his belt. He dropped his pants around his knees, exposing a pair of starched tightie whities.

As Holt realized what his co-pilot was doing he began to cheer and holler. Paying him no mind, Murray flipped the top of his underwear down and lifted out a massive flaccid cock.

"Ho-lee shit, boy," Holt said, panting out the words. "That is the biggest fucking hog I've ever seen. I cannot wait to see that thing in action."

Murray ignored him. He lifted the girl's head up by the chin and positioned her arms under her until she was propped up on her elbows. It took some doing considering Holt was still pounding her relentlessly. She looked up at Murray with unfocused eyes, and he placed the head of his cock inside her mouth. He leaned forward so more of his meat filled her pie-hole. Instantly, the din quieted to muffled moans.

"Ah fuck, thank you," Holt said. "Why didn't you tell me you were packing a goddamn bazooka in there?"

"I didn't think it would come up," Murray said, matter-of-factly. They made eye contact and burst out in laughter, Murray in subdued chuckles, Holt in full-on guffaws.

Serena had been shaken from her stupor by the surprise entrance of Murray's cock in her mouth. At first, she didn't even react, just closed her lips around the thick shaft of soft meat and continued groaning against the new oral plug. Then her tongue found its way under the head, and she felt it start to swell. A moment later, it started sliding in and out of her lips, and she matched the movements with her tongue. She stopped moaning altogether as she shifted her focus to this new task.