Supernatural Ch. 02

Chapter 2

INAUGURAL FLIGHT

Although a fair bit older than myself, Charlie had been a friend for many years and we maintained that friendship even after he left the newspaper business, meeting every three or four months for a few drinks, a meal and a chat. He liked to keep up with what was happening in the industry, not just in terms of which stories had been killed off, who was angling for what job but the seamier side too, who was sleeping with who - and why. Although he'd quietened down a bit as he got older, I knew from both the general gossip and from the odd stories he told me himself that in his hay-day he'd been a keen player in the bed-room stakes himself.

I had been on an assignment in South-East Asia and had got a few juicy bits of information that I was looking forward to passing on to him but as we ate we discussed the state of the world and the various ways our colleagues were reporting and mis-reporting it and it was only when we'd finished eating and exhausted the other topics that he asked me to tell him the unpublishable stuff.

I brought him up to date on the actual liaisons and then recounted the gossip, some of which made him chuckle and some of which brought a silent whistle of genuine surprise. When I'd finished he asked. 'And you, what have you been up to? Any interesting adventures?'

I told him about a particular girl I'd met at one of the functions I'd had to cover and as usual he wanted to know the precise detail of what had happened between us, who had done what to whom, when and how often - he was a great one for detail. I told him all that - and then added that after spending several nights together in my bed, nights that had been very hectic and totally satisfying, that she'd then suddenly vanished. I'd checked every source I could think of and though quite a few people knew her well, it seemed that nobody actually knew where she worked, or even where she lived.

I could see from the different, more intense expression on his face that my experience had got his interest but as I explained, it wasn't a great love affair, I had another leg of my assignment to move on to, the whole thing had made me curious rather than concerned. But then I asked him why he had reacted with such obvious interest to my little story - and he answered that it had reminded him of something very strange that had happened to him, when he was much younger - and naturally enough I asked him to tell me about it.

'It was on an inaugural flight, a particular airline's first flight on a particular route. Unlike the trips they put on these days, when they cram as many people as possible into the plane and as it was the high quality of in-flight service that the airline was keen to demonstrate, they had kept the numbers down. The seating had been arranged so that in each of the blocks of three seats the centre one was left vacant - and as whomever it was that was originally scheduled to sit with me failed to show up, although I was right at the back of the plane I ended up having the row to myself.

Planes didn't have the performance they do these days, needed re-fuelling more often for one thing, ten hours or so was the maximum I think. Anyway, on that flight the last leg was the long one, about seven or eight hours as I remember, flying through the night, scheduled to arrive just after dawn. During the early part of the flight we were all moving around, chatting to old friends, making new ones, the usual thing, only returning to our own seats when food was served. They gave us a slap-up meal of course and plenty of good wine to wash it all down, after which the hostesses collected plates and glasses and then lowered the cabin lights so we could sleep through the rest of the flight.

It wasn't my first trip to that part of the world but I was still excited by the chance to visit places and people I'd known - and I don't mind admitting that included on my list of places were one or two bars I'd frequented. Bars which had some of the most beautiful girls, all of who were highly skilled in the art of providing various sexual pleasures for men. So although the rest of the passengers turned off their reading lights, making the cabin quite dark, I was still wide awake, happily sipping the last of an excellent bottle of wine, thinking about the work ahead of me - and also anticipating some of the more exotic pleasures that I felt sure I'd soon be experiencing.

I lost track of time but it couldn't have been that long after most of the rest of the people had nodded off, when, probably a result of the combination of the effects of the good food, wine, the gentle hum of the engines and my increasingly erotic thoughts, I found that although I was just starting to feel a little drowsy I was also feeling very, very horny.

A few minutes later she silently appeared in the aisle beside me. Even by comparison with the rest of the hostesses - all of whom had obviously been picked for their looks as well as their proficiency - she was absolutely stunning. As I thought I'd had a go at chatting-up each of the hostesses on the flight and none of those I'd spoken to had been as gorgeous as the girl standing there I couldn't understand where she had come from - but decided that fairly academic question could be resolved later.

The airline's uniform was based on the traditional cheongsam, a figure-hugging dress made from brightly decorated silk, a feature of which were the thigh-high slits up either side - a leg-man's dream. In contrast and as though in an effort to disguise the fact that most Asian women have comparatively small breasts, the upper part fitted right up to the neck. This girl was the exception and even in the dim light she must have seen my eyes staring at the way the thin silk temptingly accentuated the full, upsweeping curves beneath it.

'May I?' She asked in a low, slightly husky voice, her eyes indicating the empty seats beside me and of course I said. 'Of course, please do.'

She sidled towards me, my eyes automatically dropping from the bulge of her breasts to admire the long, smooth length of thigh she exposed as she eased into the middle seat and settled herself. She smiled and asked. 'Not sleepy yet?'

'Not really, I was thinking about what I have to do - and looking forward to renewing some previous friendships.'

'Ah, so this is not your first visit.'

'That's right, I spent quite a while there a couple of years ago.'

'You enjoyed your stay?'

'Very much so.' I answered with a broad grin.

She gave me a knowing smile in return and asked. 'Am I right then in thinking one of the friends you referred to, would be Mr. Ong Chee?'

Chee was the owner of what was probably the best bar in town, at least of the bars that catered for more than just the drinking needs of a mainly western and more affluent clientele.

'You are, I was a frequent visitor to his establishment.'

'For food and drink?'

'Yes - and other things too.'

'Ah I thought so, although still young, I felt sure you were a man who already appreciates the importance of the finer things, of special service.'

'I would like to think so - certainly the service on this flight has been very fine.'

'Thank you. But of course there are limits to what can be done in such circumstances. Unlike Mr. Chee's establishment we do not have the most suitable facilities for providing that special service to the individual person, such as yourself for instance.'

Above Ong Chee's bar were a maze of beautifully furnished rooms, where customers could go with the girl or girls of their choice - and I guessed from the twinkle in her eye that she knew I was familiar with that set-up.

'I understand what you mean.'

'That difficulty makes it impossible to provide all customers with even limited services.' She paused, her slender fingers toying with the button at the neck of her dress for a moment, then as she turned towards me she unfastened it and then those below, adding. 'But that doesn't mean we shouldn't do our very best to please the discerning and truly appreciative gentleman.'

The front of her dress parted as she leaned towards me and as she wasn't wearing a bra beneath it I saw I had been right in thinking that her breasts were much larger than the average Asian woman's. They were full, perfectly shaped and altogether quite mouth-wateringly beautiful. I couldn't resist reaching out to touch her and as I began to lightly caress the firm curve, the feel of her incredibly smooth skin sent thrills running up through my fingers. It wasn't long before I saw the dark pink nipple begin to stiffen and when I looked up her eyes were shining with the pleasure my gentle touch was giving her.

I twisted sideways then, cupping her breast, I lowered my head and began to lick and suck it and as I did that I also became aware that I was responding strongly to the feel of her. As though she sensed that, she slipped her hand down between my legs, immediately finding the stiffening length of my cock, then she began to gently squeeze and fondle it. As I had been feeling horny even before she appeared, it didn't take her too long to get it up to almost full size.

'Unfortunately the circumstances are not suitable for what I would really like to do for you.' She whispered. 'But, if you will allow, I would enjoy giving you second best service.'

'I would be honoured and delighted.' I managed to mumble rather formally in reply.

She unzipped my trousers and I lifted myself so she could get those and then my underpants down to my knees. By then she had got me so worked up that she actually had a bit of trouble getting them over the rigid length of my cock and I heard her give a complimentary gasp of surprise when she finally freed it and saw how big it had already become. Her gasp was nothing compared to the sound I made when she took hold of it and began to stroke it - and because the sensations she produced were so intense, although I was already squirming with pleasure I looked down to see just how she was achieving them.

I saw that instead of just making a fist around the shaft she was holding it between her finger-tips, her thumb resting against the under-side. Each stroke began with her fingers lightly brushing up and down over the rim and then up over the smooth curve of the head, her thumb flicking back and forth across the sensitive ridge of skin beneath it. Every now and then she slid them all the way down the shaft, pushing the small folds of skin ahead of them, until, as she finally reached the base, she loosened her grip slightly and splayed out her fingers, slipping them down around my swollen balls and gently fondling them, before returning to continue stroking the head again.

When I looked back up I saw that she was smiling, her eyes flicking up and down from my face to my cock, constantly checking my response to what she was doing and it wasn't until she was certain that she had finally worked me up to fever pitch that she leaned forward, moistened her lips and slid them, very, very slowly down over the head. The contrast between what her fingers had been doing and the feel of the moist warmth of her lips was absolutely sensational - but that was only the start.

Instead of taking all of it straight into her mouth, she curled and tightened her lips in the deep groove behind the head, then, as her fingers continued lightly stroking up and down the shaft, she made the head swell even more and sent shudders of sheer ecstasy right through me by sucking it strongly and at the same time swirling her tongue around the rim.

The sensations she produced were certainly far stronger than anything I'd previously experienced, even at Chee's - and unlike many other women I'd had give me head, she gave me the feeling that she really wanted to do it, wanted to taste it, enjoyed feeling it responding.

When I looked down through a thickening haze of pleasure I saw that her treatment had made my cock grow bigger than I'd ever seen it, her lips were being stretched wide by the sheer size of the bloated head and the veins that ran down the rock-hard shaft were grossly swollen and knotted. I tried to relieve some of the growing tension and pressure by thrusting it deeper into her mouth but she resisted that, managing to hold me down, further heightening the tension and increasing the thrills surging through me, so I gave myself up to her and the exquisite pleasure she was obviously determined to give me.

Given the way I was feeling before she started and the expert way she was attacking me it wasn't long after that when both of us felt the start of the inevitable climax and when I felt the first powerful surge welling up I whispered urgently - 'I'm going to come! I'm coming!' - and tried to pull myself back out from between her lips. But she gurgled something, I felt her shake her head - and I realised that she actually wanted me to come in her mouth.

She used one hand to hold the quivering shaft steady so she could bob and suck even more determinedly, while the other, gently at first and then progressively more firmly, fondled and squeezed my balls, as though trying to urge the thick stuff up out of them.

Not surprisingly when I came it was with enormous force - and as at that very moment she plunged her mouth right down to the base, finally letting me thrust upwards, at the same time sucking and swallowing furiously - I pumped load after load into her. I was amazed at the amount she got out of me and I'm sure that if she hadn't taken my cock right down into the back of her throat she'd never have been able to swallow it all, as it was I think I literally pumped most of it straight down.

After she had sucked me completely dry and then tidied me up I lay back, totally drained - and must have fallen asleep.

I woke as the first rays of the sun touched the plane and though disoriented for a few seconds, as I remembered where I was, the memory of what the girl had done for me also came flooding back - and I began to look forward to seeing her, hoping she'd agree to meet me some time so I could, as she might have put it - 'Fully appreciate the pleasures of the special services available to a gentleman with discerning tastes'.

But though I checked every hostess carefully, asked one of them how many hostesses were in the crew and then double checked them all, then in growing frustration even scrutinised the faces of the few Asian passengers on board, I was left with no alternative, she wasn't on the plane, she simply didn't exist, she had been nothing more than an incredibly potent wet dream.

But if that was the case why wasn't there something to show for it? My climax had been so massive that my trousers, certainly my underpants should have been heavily caked with dried semen - but when I went to the toilet to freshen-up before landing, there wasn't a trace. At least there was no trace of dried semen, what I did find, circling the base of my cock, was a dark red ring.

My initial reaction was mild panic, that I'd got some infection - but when I cautiously wiped it with some tissues, some of it came off on them. Then I remembered the colour of the lipstick the girl had been wearing - it was identical!

I thought to myself - 'Welcome to the Orient, lands of mystery and adventure.'