White Wings

I heard a quiet unzipping. The man stood close behind me. And I felt his cock, not quite as impressive as Gavin's but quickly gaining in girth, press up into my sex and slip inside me.

The feeling that went through me is impossible to describe. I felt all at once ashamed and humiliated, outraged and indignant, and at the same time, inconceivably aroused at being seen, desired, and taken by a mysterious man, possibly even the captain, who was a handsome one, albeit married with a wife and children in Richmond. In my mind, I prayed it was the captain who was now penetrating me from behind, imagining his eyes on my body and his lust overpowering his scruples, his strong hands claiming me at the hips as he profaned his marriage with every thrust inside me. This way we would both have a secret to keep for each other. Gavin held his grip around my wrists and tongued at my clit while the second man began easing in and out of me.

I wanted to resist. Believe me, I did. I almost did. I almost started fighting. But for those moments, I had become someone else, someone I had only fantasized about up until then. Something about these two men, Gavin between my legs, the other mystery man powerfully slamming into me from behind... I felt like a whore, in shame and simultaneously in indescribable sexual ecstasy. If it was the captain, and I let him fuck me, maybe he wouldn't have me fired after all, I remember thinking. I began moaning softly in lustful acceptance and pleasure, rocking back against him as he took me, as Gavin's frisky, fluttering tongue ravished my sensitive little pearl.

That moment in time felt all at once immediate and never-ending. I have no idea how long they fucked and tongued me, and I lost track of how many orgasms I had between them. Once Gavin realized I was no longer capable nor willing to resist, he let go of my hands and begin massaging my breasts and stroking my legs, and I pressed my hands to the wall over the window again as I was used, fondled and dominated. I felt the man behind me begin grunting and quickening his movements, and I knew he was about to cum. I momentarily thought I should resist to keep him from cumming inside me, but at that moment I heard Gavin's soft voice again, as though he could read my mind.


"Don't move."

At this point, Gavin's words affected me like none other's. Up to the point of literally throwing myself off the plane, I think I would have done absolutely everything and anything he could have thought for me to do. I was his whore, his mistress, his harem girl. Any thought of resisting now dissolved with those words, and my body felt as though it was surging with something primal, like a deeply buried instinct had taken over me, one covered over and forgotten by years and years of learned behavior, but still lurking well below the surface waiting for the right man to coax it back out of me.

The one behind me lifted my right leg and positioned it up on the countertop, my nylon-clad knee slipping a bit on the smooth marble surface. It hurt at first being stretched so wide but the pain was quickly occluded by the pleasure of being fucked even harder and wilder by the man behind me, his cock having swollen into a deliciously-sized, solid and thick member plunging into me now with a fury. I bit my lip hard to keep from crying aloud from the devastating onslaught of pleasure crashing through me from his impassioned fucking. I suddenly remembered that business class was loaded with nearly 30 people, and struggled hard to control the sounds so desperate to be released. Gavin's tongue on my clit seemed never to tire or falter, continuing to lap, stir and suckle over my button, never keeping one motion for too long.

At last the man behind me took my hips in his powerful hands and emptied himself inside me, exploding in gushes of hot seed within my body. I gasped, the loudest sound I'd made so far, and felt another dizzying whirlwind of orgasm engulf me, languidly thrashing between them as I was inseminated by a man I didn't even know. I couldn't think about pregnancy, didn't care about my job, was oblivious to where I was or what I was doing. The only thing that filled my mind at that moment was the most luscious ecstasy I had ever felt, purely and thoroughly possessed by my darling Gavin and the powerful man whose cum was splashing into my cunt as Gavin held me for him.

I shuddered and panted as I descended back to the world of muscle soreness, trepidation, and consequence. Gavin stood and helped me slide my leg down from the counter. The man behind me withdrew from me and I heard him take a towel out of the drawer and, to my mild surprise, began gently pressing it between my legs, no doubt to keep the flood of his semen from pouring down my legs. I felt warm inside, almost as if I could feel his cum permeating me, spreading and soaking me within. It was not the first time I'd felt this sensation, but after the primal fucking I had just endured it was oddly more pleasant than before. I should have been worried about pregnancy or even an STD, but I wasn't. I don't know why.

Gavin rose to his feet and easily slipped the knot holding the tie around my eyes. I stared at him, lowering my face in submission to him, my skirt falling down my legs again as Gavin took the towel from him and continued to hold it to my aching groin.

"Look behind you," he said.

I turned to look. The man who had just fucked me like a wild animal and flooded me with his jism was none other than the captain himself. Behind him was standing Deana, Jessica, and one of Gavin's companions. They had gathered in the aisle behind the captain and had watched as I had been spread open like a whore and fucked in the galley, delirious in climaxes of my own. Gavin's friend smiled to him approvingly with a subtle jump of his eyebrows, and turned to go back to his seat. Deana, Jessica and the captain were all smiling as well, but smiling as though I had won a competition.

"You're in," the captain said to me. He zipped up, gave Deana a satisfied nod, and disappeared again into the cockpit. Deana beamed proudly to me.

"What's ... he mean?" I said, my heart still pounding in my chest, not quite breathing normally yet.

"He means you've just earned your white wings," Deana said with excited eyes. "Do you know what that means?"

I shook my head, glancing back at Gavin. "Do you know what that is?"

He nodded. "That's the whole reason I'm on this plane, sexy. You've just had your debut. Looks to me like you nailed it."

That was seven months ago, the night I joined the sisterhood of special in-flight services. My pay more than tripled, and I was taken off Deana's crew and began flying in Beeb-MAX aircraft more extravagant and swank than you could even conceive. Conference rooms, swimming pools, hot tubs, offices, theaters, game rooms. And bedrooms... my god, the bedrooms you just have to see to believe. I don't even have words to describe how lush, sumptuous and erotic they are.

I am to service them. I learned to service men and women alike, sometimes both at the same time. I fulfill their every wish and desire. I dress and undress at their pleasure. Sometimes they just want to watch me dance for them, sometimes they like to watch me with the other hostesses, kissing and making out. I've been fucked by the richest men and women in the world, married or single, doesn't matter. I've even had one or two celebrities you've probably heard of, and would never guess how their behavior changes when we're enclosed in a metal tube in the sky where no one can judge you, no one's snapping pictures of you with a telephoto lens from a window two blocks away, no one's scampering after you wanting an autograph. What happens at 35,000 feet truly stays at 35,000 feet. There are no rules up there. The only rule is that you don't ever talk about it.

But there is sex up there. A lot more than you would guess.

Oh, and Gavin. That was my last hop to Denver from D.C. I stayed in Breckenridge with him for a week, before he had to return to Washington for work. From there I was sent to the special training... well, tutors. I don't get much chance to see him, but once in a while we manage to wind up in the same city and we always find a hotel together. Most of my flights now are intercontinental, which makes it hard, but he's always worth the effort to meet him whenever I can.

You might have noticed by now that I haven't given my name. That's because no one knows what my true job is about. My friends think I'm a garden-variety flight attendant; my family thinks I live a jet-setting life of travel and adventure and romance serving peanuts and pouring soft drinks. They're not entirely wrong; I do those things too. But the woman they see when I'm on the ground is not who I am in the sky. On the ground, I'm a proud flight attendant; between here and there though, I am someone else. I'm an angel.