Red Eye from Lagos

We met, as I'm sure many friendships begin, purely by chance. I'd arranged to meet a friend for a catch-up meal at a small but popular hotel. I'd been waiting for around 10 or 15 minutes when a text came through:

'Really sorry Helen. Something came up unexpected. I'll call later. Anna xx'

One of the regulars there (I found out later) had spotted me, annoyed and disappointed, and asked me what had upset me. He offered to buy me dinner and I half expected expected him to tell me his room number for dessert. He didn't, but we soon met up again, things progressed rapidly and, to cut a long story short, a few months later we married.

I guess I got used to being wined and dined, followed by the good, passionate sex that followed. Always a gentleman in bed, he ensured he left me satisfied, often giving me several wonderful orgasms before enjoying his own, deep inside me.

But gradually it changed. The wining and dining became several weeks apart. Our lovemaking, though still fairly regular, became more about him. The odd kiss, just scant attention to my breasts and the other places I loved being touched, before thrusting carelessly inside me, grunting his climax. Then it was over, leaving me to finish with my fingers while he snored beside me.

***

Life had been difficult for the last few months. My marriage had been on the rocks for a while and, although until recently we still lived in the same house, several of my friends had been dropping hints. The arguments began, angry words flew relentlessly. Then he left me, moved in with the bitch and divorce proceedings began. He taunted me, called me, blackened my name. He said it was all my fault that he'd been forced to seek another woman.

I'd been working as an air stewardess for 9 years when I got the opportunity to fly somewhere completely different. It gave me hope and a chance, albeit small, to break away from reality. The London to Lagos flight did sound exotic and it was one of the reasons I took the crew slot. The seven hour outbound flight went well, but the realities of the layover, the advice of 'stay in your room, don't go out, its not safe' ruined the trip. Even a 5 star hotel on the company tab didn't make it any better. So, as we waited for the last passengers to board, I was glad to leave!

I was going through the motions checking the ticket, taking the stub - I'm sure you know the deal; 'Hello, seat number... that is to your right, to your left' etc., etc. The African heat had been oppressive. I was uncomfortable and in my own thoughts, my upcoming divorce and my perfect life going down the drain. It was then I was awakened from my reverie with a jolt of electricity. He stroked my hand and I looked up. He was six foot plus, broad shoulders, a big bright smile attached to a square jaw and his bright blue eyes were piercing into mine.

"Thank you," he said in a deep confident tone. He stroked my fingers again and winked as I took his ticket stub from him.

What was it with this stranger that made a ripple of pleasure pass through me? His smile? His aftershave? His drop-dead gorgeous features? I felt my nipples harden, that coiled spring inside me begin to unwind, my heart pitter-pattering, the butterflies, the indescribable sense of preparation and a gradual moistening of my knickers. Above all, my body reminded me that it had been quite some while since I'd had such attention from a man.

I nervously played with my wedding band, totally disarmed and staring at him, my mind in a total whirl, as he walked to the rear of the plane.

***

Two hours later: drinks had been served, the captain had made his announcement, the lights were being dimmed, what our arrival time was and god knows what else. My mind, though, was solely on the passenger at the back of the plane! He had become even more forward as my colleague and I had walked the drinks trolley down the cabin. I hadn't wanted to be offended but his look was so intent, full of desire. I felt his hand on my calf and then slip under my skirt and stroke my inner thigh as I bent down searching for the perfume he had asked for. For one brief moment, just a second or two, his fingers even touched the crotch of my knickers, one finger pressing just firmly enough to arouse my pleasure spot. I looked around instantly, bewildered by the liberties he was taking - indecent touches - and was silenced by the sly grin on his face! I was frozen to the spot, electricity running through my body. My mind was in turmoil with a mixture of emotions.

I tried to be professional and asked if he wanted anything else.

"Just you, later!" he replied.

I stared, trying to think of a response and quickly looked at my colleague, who fortunately was adding up the sale so had missed the flirtation. I smiled weakly, totally amazed and tried to hide the arousal washing through my mind and body. I was unsure if I wanted my fellow stewardess to be quicker, or go slower.

"Thank you sir, your change," was the annoyed reply from my colleague, as she tapped my arm to pass over a handful of coins and notes.

"Whats wrong with you?" she enquired.

The look on my face must have spoken the thoughts in my mind. I shook my head. "I guess I'm just tired from the heat and being confined to the hotel overnight." I hoped she had seen nothing and I looked back at my handsome admirer, who raised his glass in one hand and covertly removed his other hand from under my skirt.

I asked my colleague to swap positions. I was flustered, excited and petrified! I hid in the front of the plane until I finally found the courage to go aft and stop hiding. As I walked down the dim aisle I was aware that he was the only passenger back this far. There must have been at least a dozen rows until the next passengers, who were all asleep. As I walked past I looked over. I thought he was asleep also but as I passed he grabbed my hand.

"May I have another drink?" he asked, with the same charming smile. I relieved my colleague and returned with his vodka and tonic. "Please let me buy you one as well," he said. I looked down the cabin - no one was moving. I knew the crew would be busy and they would leave me alone at the back.

"It's against the rules sir,'' I replied.

He raised my hand and looked at my wedding ring, "His rules or company rules?" he enquired.

His comments hit home. How many affairs had my husband had that I knew about? And the ones I didn't? I should have taken heed of my friends. The decision was made. I returned again to the servery trolley and came back with 3 more vodka and tonics.

"Doubles I assume," I grinned. As if in a trance I sat in the chair next to this handsome stranger in and leant over seductively, crossing my legs and opening another button of my blouse revealing enough cleavage to make my intent clear. I watched this man, this handsome stranger, pouring us both drinks, never taking his eyes off me.

"Are you a member of the Mile High Club," he asked, handing me my double. I stared into his eyes; I shook my head but I knew I would be soon.

I smiled and caught my breath, I tried to look composed, but I was as nervous as a kitten. He raised his glass to mine, we clinked and we toasted to the Mile High Club. I sipped my drink, knowing I needed to go easy. Being tipsy and smelling of booze would get me sacked. Getting caught with a passenger I might get away with, maybe? Just? Depending who saw me and if they were having a good day.

He watched me, never rushed me and made small talk as I sipped, his hand on my thigh moving slowly, touching so lightly it felt as if the softest velvet was teasing my senses. My knickers were getting damper by the moment. With each sip I relaxed more - this man was so easy going.

Finally he took my glass from me and reached round behind my neck, I felt his fingers stretch out and embrace me gently, guiding me towards his lips. My mouth was dry despite the vodka, I had butterflies in my stomach and my chest heaved. My eyes never left his till the last second as our lips touched softly, then more firmly and I felt the electricity run through my body.

He pulled away and smiled. 'Are you sure?' he asked. I was startled and disarmed again.

"Yes," I gasped and pulled him towards me and kissed him passionately, deeply, wantonly. My head in a whirl, my body so aroused I hardly noticed him undo another button of my blouse.

"Your breasts are wonderful," he said, easing his fingers inside my bra, sliding them over an aroused nipple. I shivered involuntarily and closed my eyes. Our passionate kiss and his fingers teasing my nipple aroused much pleasure.

He broke away and motioned me to rise from the seat and he expertly helped me remove my knickers, already wet in response to my arousal. After he'd prepared himself I sat awkwardly on his lap allowing him to enter me. The reward to us both was immediate, him guiding me slowly up and down, passion building, his length and fullness teasing the wonderful nerves inside me, allowing untold pleasures to slowly unfold.

The following fifteen minutes were the most exciting and satisfying of my life! The thrill of illicit public sex, mixed with the desire to have this stranger moving slowly, deep within me, had induced a powerful orgasm in me.

I retrieved my knickers, pulling them swiftly on. As I buttoned up my blouse and re-adjusted my uniform, I could feel my legs were still like jelly and my knickers, already damp from his earlier attentions were becoming very wet, a mixture of both our orgasms. I grinned at him and he smiled back.

"Here this is for you," he said, handing me the gift bag with the perfume, "This is the one you wear?"

His gesture took me aback. "How did you know?" I answered, confused.

"Your husband gave us a very detailed dossier on you. I believe this will make your pre-nup invalid," he said coldly, "You won't get a penny from your divorce." He reached forward, taking his mobile phone from the netted pocket in front of him, tucked in behind the airline's magazine with the camera just peeking out. He rapidly tapped the phone screen. Suddenly, an awkward but perfectly understandable video recording appeared; our full conversation, sounds of pleasure, some kissing... rapidly progressing to my initiation to the Mile High Club, and the intense look of pleasure on my face as our pleasure peaks arrived.

He slipped his phone in his jacket pocket before settling in his seat to sleep.

I suddenly felt cold, numbed by his words. My mind went back to the time my husband had asked me to sign a paper that I hadn't fully understood. I couldn't believe I had been so stupid and let my estranged husband get the better of me. That wasn't all - my betrayal of the airline for whom had I given years of my life. My career would be in ruins.

I walked back slowly to the front of the plane, hatching an idea. I returned two minutes later with a cup of very hot coffee, which I proceeded to pour over his crotch!

"I'm so sorry, sir,'' I said in mock shock.

He screamed with alarm, "You careless bitch!" and he hit out forcibly at me catching me full in the face. It hurt and I screamed in pain. Just then, two of my fellow stewardesses arrived, alerted at my cry. In real shock this time I asked them to to help with the drunk and aggressive passenger.

All hell broke loose for the next few minutes, a melee of shouts, accusations, orders and arms. The second officer and a male steward arrived to escort the passenger to first class, where he could be closely observed.

"Look, I don't want to press charges! I'm sure he wouldn't have hit me if I hadn't spilled the coffee over him," I pleaded on his behalf, aware of my own selfish needs.

"Are you sure?" asked the co-pilot, "You know the company policy, he'll be first off the plane in London, in handcuffs."

"Yes I'm sure, I'm tired and don't need any more stress in my life. I simply don't want to endure a police interview."

My passenger was looking desperate now, his situation dawning on him. Aircrews talk, and word had got around that my very rich husband was divorcing me, so as I looked around the faces of my four colleagues there was an acceptance to my statement.

"Besides I was distracted and not concentrating when I served him," I paused for effect. "So yeh, I won't press charges, but if I can have the phone please?" I asked my passenger, holding out my hand for the offending phone with the video of my airborne dalliance.

He meekly handed it over, realising the weakness of his position.

"Let's get some ice on that cheekbone," one of my colleagues said, taking me aside as my passenger was kept at the front of the plane.

As soon as I was alone I opened the phone. Fortunately he hadn't had chance to lock it; there was the evidence, in his phone gallery, a video entry for that day, twenty eight minutes long. I pressed play and looked around again to make sure I was alone. I heard my voice, then his, from the start of the flirtation. That was enough! I pressed delete and breathed a huge sigh of relief as the phone asked me to confirm.

......

EPILOGUE

I suppose it comes as no surprise that some men can be so kind, gentle, and loving, but some time later their true colours shine through.

The divorce came through, with a settlement - a reasonable chunk of my ex-husband's wealth. I met another man and thankfully we settled down to a, so far, happy time together. I'm expecting our first child later this year.

The captain did, however, report the incident and I had to attend a brief police interview. I repeated what I'd said to my colleagues during the flight.

My passenger who flew frequently on various business trips, had previously assaulted another female member of air crew. He escaped with a suspended sentence, a hefty fine, and banned from travelling with our airline.

Edited by Grumpyg