The Atlanta Flight Attendant

Note to reader: This story is short and 100% true. I have changed the names to protect anonymity. All characters are over 18. Copyright © 2023 All Rights Reserved. No portion of this material may be reproduced without the author's prior written permission.

A reader accused me of plagiarism. NOT TRUE! I am the author of these stories. I abandoned my Literotica account for a few years and rejoined under this pseudonym.

Although this story is in the Erotic Coupling section, it could easily fit into the Loving Wives or Romance categories. Polite and constructive comments are most welcome. Derogatory comments will be deleted.

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My name is Scott. I am a former aerospace engineer and retired middle school teacher from southern California. I lost my engineering job in 1990, as did several million other aerospace workers when Congress reduced military spending. For years following my layoff, finding engineering work anywhere in SoCal was virtually nonexistent. I was living off unemployment and working odd construction jobs as a day laborer. In 1995, a friend suggested I try teaching because, as an engineer, I was always teaching, and if you ask me what time it is, I'll tell you how to build a clock. It all starts with a spring.

I enrolled in the local university and applied for my teaching credential and Master of Education degree. I loved teaching at first. But, the invention of the Internet, the influence of inappropriate music, and the 9/11 tragedy changed everyone. The students were becoming less interested in learning and more interested in becoming famous. Social media was all the rage. The kids believed they could become millionaires via rap music and did not care about their education. By 2006, the frustration of teaching kids who did not want to learn wore me out. An opportunity to return to the business world came knocking, and I answered.

For two years, I traveled the U.S. living out of a suitcase as a consultant to construction companies that built distribution center warehouses. I traveled to 48 different cities over 24 months. The Johnny Cash song I've Been Everywhere was my theme for those two years. Having never traveled much before, I looked upon my new job as an adventure. I can tell you about being 40 degrees below zero in Canada, where the job site porta-potty has an electric heater to keep your ass from sticking to the seat. Or, when you go to the Rock-N-Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, if you've seen one Fender Stratocaster, you've seen them all. This story concerns three weeks I spent in Atlanta on a job site.

The weather during late spring and early summer in Georgia is tolerable. The days are not hot and humid, and the nights are warm compared to other parts of the country where winter's grip still causes trouble. I was staying at a different hotel than our normal corporate choice hotel. The upscale hotel was nice, convenient to the job site, and clean. Because the hotel was close to the Atlanta airport, airline flight crews would bunk there when away from their homes. I would see the flight crews coming or going whenever I went downstairs for a cigarette. One evening, I was nursing a beer at the hotel bar when a beautiful, statuesque blonde sat nearby. I had seen her outside chatting with friends a few times on other days and thought she was gorgeous. But considering my track record with women, a two-time loser with marriage, I knew I would never have a chance with someone like her. Women like this blonde beauty don't even know I exist.

This gorgeous blonde Aphrodite sitting four seats away from me at the bar appeared to be in her early 40s, and although she looked her age, I thought she was stunningly gorgeous. From my perspective, this woman looked at least 5ft 9in or taller because her legs could reach the floor while sitting on the elevated barstool. Most women rest their feet on the shoe rail attached to the bar or the stool while seated. Her hair was a few shades darker than platinum blonde but less dark than dishwater blonde and fell to about collar length in a sensible cut. Her dark blue mid-thigh skirt covered her muscular legs, and her sparkling white button-front top clung nicely to her body. Modest heels were at the ends of her luscious gams. Those beautiful legs were crossed as she dangled the shoe of her right foot on her toes, exposing her stocking-clad heel.

You must understand I'm not the kind of guy women naturally gravitate toward. I have been told that I have average looks. I stand 6 feet 6 inches tall and come from Scandinavian descent, so my hair is dirty blonde, and I have blue eyes. I have wide shoulders and narrow hips. I am in no way any form of what a woman would describe as a hunk. But, I can chat intelligently with senior executives in the board room or spit and swear like a longshoreman on the shop floor. I have published articles in leading industrial magazines and have been a guest speaker at national conventions in breakout groups. Yet every time I would sneak a peak at the stunning beauty, she was staring at me. I asked the young bartender if she knew the woman. The bartender said the woman was a flight attendant. They hate the word stewardess and said she stopped over frequently.

I asked the bartender, "Would you do me the favor of asking her if she would like company?"

I never learned how to be a player and have mostly struck out with women when I approached anyone at a club. The bartender spoke with the woman, and she raised her glass as a signal to walk over to where she was sitting. I stood next to her and introduced myself.

"Hi, my name is Scott," I said. "I'm here on business and asked our bartender if you want company. Are you waiting for someone, or may I join you?"

She shook my hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Scott, I'm Julie. Please sit down."

For 30 minutes, we asked each other where we lived, how often we were here, and so on. My stomach growled, and I asked Julie if she wanted to eat dinner with me. She said yes, and we went to the hotel dining room. The food was not exceptional, nor was it poor. It was typical hotel food. We enjoyed ourselves throughout the meal. Julie is an interesting woman. She, too, was a former teacher and now a flight attendant. She lives in Virginia Beach and has grown children like I do. Julie likes her job and enjoys meeting new people. We talked about her flight attendant training and my engineering career. I thought we hit it off, and I took a chance.

When dinner was over, I asked, "It's still early, and I am rather bored. Would you like to go sightseeing with me? I hear they call this town Hot-Lanta."

"I'd love to," Julie said. "When I stay here, I usually go to my room to read or surf the Internet. Where are you parked?"

We walked to my rental Jeep, and I drove through the downtown area of Atlanta. There was a Braves night game at the ballpark when we drove by. I could see the grandstands filled with baseball fans as I drove past the stadium on the freeway. We toured the downtown area, and I made mental notes of places to stop the next time she returned. After about an hour of driving, we headed back to the hotel. I learned during our drive that Julie had to fly out tomorrow and would not return for three days. When we arrived, we walked to the elevators and pushed the button to our floors. While waiting for the elevator to arrive, we exchanged numbers. My floor was below hers, and when the elevator door opened, she leaned toward me and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you, Scott, for a nice evening," Julie said. "I so rarely get to do anything like this."

"It was my pleasure, Julie," I replied. "I hope to see you on your next visit here."

The elevator door closed, and I stood alone.

A couple of days later, there was a text from Julie on my phone. The loud noises of construction at the job site prevented me from hearing the notification tone. When I got into my car, I checked and saw her message.

"Hi Scott, I'll be in Atlanta this afternoon," Julie's text read. "Are you still there?"

I returned her text, "Yes, still here. May I see you this evening?"

Julie did not immediately answer because she was airborne and could not use her phone. She responded to my text when she turned it on at the Atlanta airport.

"I would love to see you," Julie replied. "Meet me at the bar around 7:00-ish. I should be ready then."

HOT DAMN! I had a date with Julie. When 7:00 p.m. came, I was sitting at the bar nursing a cola. I'm the world's original lightweight drinker. After two beers, I become tipsy, so I abstain from drinking more than one beer. I watched the Braves play baseball on the TV above the bar when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Julie was standing next to me, and when I turned to face her, my mouth was open in amazement. She wore a coral floral print sundress with amazing cleavage, stiletto heels, and perfect make-up. The light red shade of lipstick made her luscious lips look so kissable.

"Wow, Julie!" I exclaimed, "This sure beats that uniform you wear."

"Thank you, Scott, you clean up nicely too," She said. "What plans have you for us?"

"First, I thought we might get a nice steak," I offered. "Perhaps you are like me, tired of hotel food?"

"Mmmm, that sounds nice," Julie purred.

"Then, afterward, we could go to one of the hot spots in town," I suggested. "Are you up for some dancing?"

Julie and I walked to my car and headed to one of Atlanta's oldest and best-reviewed steakhouses. She ordered prime rib, and I had the ribeye. Both were so tender you could cut them with a fork. I should have ordered the petite steak because when my order arrived, the Tomahawk ribeye was as big as a saddle blanket. The meat hung over the edge of the plate, and the flavor was addictive. I couldn't stop eating. Julie's prime rib was delicious, too. We felt the only thing missing from the restaurant was two cots to nap on after our meal.

Earlier in the day, I surfed the Internet and found a nightclub that caters to older adults. The music was not as loud or electronic as the kids today hear in clubs. The songs were romantic, slow-dancing old standards, and a few upbeat songs from the 80s. Julie and I danced the slow songs and sat out the fast ones. During one Frank Sinatra song we were dancing to, she looked up at me, and those beautiful, deep blue eyes cast a spell on my heart. I took a chance and kissed her lips. It was a gentle kiss. The kiss lingered for a moment and sent chills down my spine.

Julie faded out around midnight, so we left the club for our hotel. On the way back, Julie reached over and took my hand. She smiled at me as I drove.

"Scott, I've had a wonderful evening and don't want it to end so soon," Julie said. Will you let me stay in your room tonight?"

You could have knocked me over with a feather. I am driving along the interstate toward a hotel 2,500 miles from home with a stunning blonde woman who wants to share my bed. What could I say?

"Are you sure, Julie?" I asked. "We've only known each other for two nights. I mean, yes, I would love to have you in my arms. You can stay the night with me."

I opened the door of the car for Julie and helped her stand. Her arms went around me as she pressed her pelvis to mine. Big Jim and the twins were at full attention. Julie moaned in my chest when she felt my hardness pressing into her. We kissed for two moments and then headed for the hotel lobby. We rode the elevator to her floor so she could get some overnight things.

However, when she opened the door to her room and stepped inside, she said, "I can't wait for your room. You're spending the night with me here."

She held me tightly, and we kissed. My hands went to her back and hers to mine. Our tongues danced, and our hands roamed each other's bodies. She broke our kiss and mentioned the restroom. I stood waiting and answered a quick text until she returned. Julie walked seductively toward me. Her hands reached to my crotch and felt the length of my hardness. Although I am not huge, I am 7 inches and proportionally thick. Julie looked at me and said a line from a Mae West movie, "Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?"

Both of my hands found their way to her ample breasts. I estimated Julie was a large size C or a small D cup. Nonetheless, she was braless, and her nipples were erect through the thin material of her sundress. Rather than jump right into the sack, I felt a few moments of kissing and caressing were in order. I gently cupped her mounds between us as we peck-kissed while gazing into each other's eyes. Julie had her arms around my neck as I supported her breasts with my hands. My thumbs gently massaged her nipples through the thin material of her sundress. As I described earlier, Julie is tall, statuesque, and stunningly beautiful. Everywhere between us seemed to align perfectly. When you are tall like me, most things don't fit. Cars have little leg and headroom, airplane seats are too cramped, my long-sleeved shirts are too short in the waist and sleeve length, and most women are too short. Julie and I aligned perfectly.

I removed my hands from Julie's breasts to find the zipper of her dress. Looking into her eyes, I pulled the zipper down slowly. Deliberately, I stalled the progress of the zipper about halfway while searching for emotion in her eyes. Once the zipper was completely down, I moved my hands to Julie's shoulders and folded the dress toward her elbows. Julie let her arms dangle as I guided the material downward. I stopped removing her dress when my hands reached her forearms. Pushing my hands forcefully rearward and around her torso, I pulled Julie against me, effectively binding her arms. The surprise of her capture elicited a short gasp as she realized her predicament.

"Julie," I said. "If you think we are too far and fast, this is your last chance to say no. If you do, I will leave quietly, and we can slow things down. However, if you say yes, I will ravage you until you beg me for mercy."

The silence was deafening as I awaited her answer. Her blue eyes twinkled when Julie said, "Take me."

I released my grip and allowed her dress to fall gently to the floor in a heap at her feet. It surprised me that her heels were the only thing she had on. Bending my knees into a semi-squat, I reached down to pick Julie up and carried her to the bed. She held onto my neck and smiled as we walked. Using my knee to steady myself, I lowered her to the mattress. When she was down safely, I moved toward her to kiss her luscious lips. Our mouths were hungry for one another. Her teeth gently bit my lower lip. Her mouth sucked my tongue. I broke the kiss and kissed her face, neck, and chest. Looking at her through my lustful eyes, I assaulted her nipples.

Julie has breasts that fit her physique perfectly. She has what I estimated to be a size "B" to perhaps a "C" cup. The universal constants of time and gravity affect everyone. The older we get, the more things sag, but not with Julie. Her breasts were pert, with nipples that ached for attention. With each lick of my broad tongue against her areola and nipples, I could feel her inhale. Using my upper teeth, I trapped her extended nipple between my teeth and tongue. The sharpness and softness made her moan. My dick was painful in my underwear, so I stood up and removed my clothing.

Lying on her back seductively, Julie watched me as my fingers unbuttoned the top two buttons of my dress shirt and pulled it over my head. She subconsciously moaned as her fingers gently pinched her nipples while I let the shirt fall to the floor behind me as I stood at the bedside. Next, I pulled my teeshirt over my head and let it fall behind me. Julie rolled toward me as my hands undid my leather belt and unfastened my trousers. She touched my stiff rod through my underwear. With lustful eyes, Julie looked at me as she lowered my briefs past my knees. Julie could see the bulge of my 7-inch cock straining at the front of my boxer briefs. Her fingernails dug behind the elastic waistband and pulled it outward and down. The back went below my buttocks, and the front stopped at the juncture of my dick and abdomen. She moved her hands toward the front and pulled downward on the waistband. When she did, my cock went south, and when the waistband cleared the tip of my cock, it sprung back into the erect position. Julie jumped and smiled at the bouncing man-flesh before her eyes.

Delicate, warm hands grabbed my manhood and stroked me softly. Julie's touch was like velvet along my shaft. Soon, she was gripping me tightly and stretching the shaft's skin without the friction of her hand rubbing along my flesh. Her mouth opened, and she adjusted her position to sit upright with me standing between her legs. I watched with amazement as she put her mouth over my cock. Her tongue licked the underside of my glans for a few seconds, and without warning, she plunged my cock down her throat. Her hands preceded her lips as she bobbed up and down on my cock. She would rotate her hands as she took me into and out of her throat. My eyes rolled back into their sockets as I felt the urge to cum rise in my loins. Not wanting to cum, I stepped back and watched Julie lay toward the headboard. Following her on my knees, I placed my head between her thighs and looked up and across the landscape of her abdomen. My vision was through two mounds of flesh that formed a narrow canyon between them. She smiled as I lowered my face to her vulva.

With broad strokes, my tongue lapped at her wet entrance. She tasted sweeter than any woman I had before. As many know, women taste differently. Some are sweet, and others are sour-like. Julie was sweet. I wish I could have bottled her juices for refreshment later. My tongue lavished her labia, and when my mouth found her clitoris, I plunged a finger inside her love tunnel to feel for the rough patch on the ceiling marking her G-spot. I sucked and rubbed my finger at the same time. With the first stroke of my fingers and vacuum on her clit, Julie raised her hips to my face. Her hips held off the bed with the kind of hang-time NFL punters could only dream about. I moved my left hand under her coccyx cheeks for support while my tongue assaulted her love button. Like I did with her nipples, I used my teeth and tongue to pleasure her. Julie's pussy juices were now dripping freely. They were running down my chin to my neck and chest hair. As her climax approached, her hips thrust uncontrollably. My head struggled to maintain a mouth lock on her clit. Unable to maintain contact, I lifted off her clit and rapidly pounded her pussy with my finger. While I slipped another finger inside her, my thumb took over where my tongue left off. It did not take long for her to make climax noises. She talked in tongues.

"Oh, gaw, fuh, fuh, fuh, I'm cum -mm- ing!" Julie stuttered.

Her thighs trembled as her hands gripped the sheets below her. I could see her abdominal muscles tense up as the wave of ecstasy washed over her body. Julie's face and upper chest reddened when she stopped breathing while bearing down on her climax. My fingers and thumb continued to hammer away as she climbed the mountain. At the top, she let out a long ahh sound and then collapsed onto the mattress, breathing heavily. The sudden rush of air into her lungs was audible as she gasped for breath. Having satisfied her before my pleasure, I smiled at her supine figure while I remained prone on my chest between her legs. I removed my fingers and gently kissed and licked her pussy. With each crossing of her clit with my tongue, she would lurch upward and deeply inhale until she told me to stop because she was too sensitive. I watched her breathing return to normal as the beads of sweat on her forehead glistened like a crown of diamonds.

Wiping my face on the sheet, I put on a condom, moved forward, and placed the head of my cock at Julie's clean-shaven entrance. The landing strip of pubic hair above made me smile. I thought it was fitting for a flight crew member to have such an adornment. My knees worked under her hamstring muscles and lifted Julie's legs so my cock could reach her opening. With my arms behind her knees and hands on the mattress beside her, I adjusted my position so my rigid pole was ready to enter her. She used her hand to align me with her entrance. The slipperiness of her pussy and the lubrication of the condom made entering her easy. She gasped as my girth slid inside her. She was tight. Slowly, I moved in and out of her as her body somewhat doubled in half. When our pelvic regions joined, she could feel me against her cervix. As I reached the depth of her love tunnel, I moved my hips in a circular motion a few times, then retreated outward. It did not take long for Julie to tell me to fuck her harder. She wanted more of my cock.