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MILE HI It took a couple years of saving, but Shelly and I finally got up the money for a vacation in Las Vegas. We had to cut a few corners to make the trip affordable. For example, we booked a redeye flight which had lower fares than the morning or afternoon flights. The drawback to that was the arrival time at McCarran Field was three in the morning, much too late for check-in and too early for breakfast. The hotel would let us check in at that ridiculous hour, but it would cost us an extra day's charges. So we decided we would rent a car and watch the sunrise over Lake Mead. Just a couple days before we left, we made a last-minute addition to our plans, one that wouldn't cost a penny, but would add a mountain of excitement to the trip. We decided to join the Mile-High Club. For the handful of people who have never heard of the club, it is merely a reference to having sex in an airplane. It sounds simple, but think again. Do you really think two people can squeeze into an airplane's restroom and get it on? There is barely enough space for one person to turn around. Forget about getting a second person in there. The galleys are out; the flight attendants hang out there. That leaves one place -- the seats. The privacy issue is easy to deal with. Get a blanket and put it over the two of you. Our flight was Friday night, so we only had a couple days to work out the details. Then we had to practice at least once. I know what you're thinking: What a burden! Of course, it was fun. That was the whole idea. We just had to figure out how to do it in such a confined space. First, we had to decide what we would wear. That was probably the easiest part. Neither of us would wear any underwear. Since my clothes were fairly roomy, the only problem for me would be getting a hardon at the wrong time. |
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Shelly's huge cock presented a challenge. Even
when he isn't turned on, you can see the bulge in his pants. When he's hot,
it stands up a full ten inches, sometimes more. Not that I mind, but we had
to consider the other passengers, especially children. If it had been
winter, bulky clothes would work. But we were going in July. After a half
hour of digging through the closet, we decided to forget modesty. He chose a
very tight pair of shorts and a button down denim vest. His dick would be
outlined against the material of his shorts. Oh well! Thursday evening after dinner, we changed into the clothes that we would be wearing on the flight. We knew that the seats would be small, and that the arm rest between them folded up between the seat backs, so we needed something comparable for our 'practice' session. We finally decided to use one cushion of the sofa. To define the space limits, we tossed the other two cushions on the floor. The scene having been set, we brought a blanket from the hall closet and snuggled up beneath it. Shelly's cock was already beginning to stiffen when I caressed him. I placed my hand under his balls. There is no feel I love more than his sweet, soft eggs in my hand. I know he loves my hand on his testicles because his cock responds very quickly to my touch. That night, it seemed to grow faster than usual. It might have been wishful thinking on my part, but the prospect of possibly having an audience in twenty-four hours was affecting me. His hand brushed my cock through my pants creating the natural response. We had seat assignments already on the right side of the plane in the window and center seats. I put my left arm around his shoulders, and he laid his head on my chest. My hand slipped inside and clasped the tender flesh of his fuckrod. He sighed as my palm passed over his stiff bulge. I would have loved to kiss his chest and suck on his nipples, but with the limited space, that was impossible. The seats on the plane would be even more confining. |
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His left hand opened my fly and extracted my
rapidly growing member. Even without the added constraint of my shorts, my
pants had been becoming uncomfortable. His tender touch along the length of
my shaft had it rigid within seconds. Basically, he had done his part. I
still had to get him ready for me to get into his hole. Eating his cock
usually did the trick, but there was no way I could get my face down there.
I was very tempted to drop to my knees and dine on his tool, but, because
that would be impossible on the plane, that thought was abandoned. Almost as
though on cue, Shelly turned to an upright position and turned his back to
me as he opened his legs. My fingertips traced a line up the inner thigh of
his right leg. His eyes closed and a faint smile crossed his face. The smile
became broader when I went up his delicious ass. After a minute of gently
stroking his rim, his left thigh received its share of attention. When I returned to his fuck place, it was slightly open and beginning to get damp. He usually responded to my fingers, but ordinarily a lot more time was needed for him to become aroused. At least it seemed longer. Meanwhile, he continued to caress my shaft. After five minutes or so, his hole was sufficiently ready for me to attempt entry. The only position that would afford me any access to his insides was the spoon position, his back to me with both of us on our sides. We turned onto our left sides, and he thrust his bottom toward me. The tip of my cock slid down to his bum hole with ease. He could not bend forward without placing his head and shoulders in the aisle seat. If that seat were vacant, it wouldn't be a problem. If it was occupied, then he would have to keep his head on his seat back. I had to slip down placing my hip on the edge of the chair so I could reach his fuck hole with my prick. After a brief struggle, I felt the tip enter his tunnel. We wiggled around a bit until my glans was inside. That was all we could do. I simply wasn't long enough to get any more in. Very carefully, I began giving him short thrusts, fearful that I would slip out. I was pondering the possibilities of using the plane's lavatory. |
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Shelly's breathing was slow and deep, as
was mine. Movement was so limited that our hips could only move a quarter
inch. Any more and I would fall out of him. My passions rose slowly. I
wanted to reach around him and play with his nipples, but the angle required
for penetration of him only allowed me to reach his lowest ribs. As my
breathing quickened, so did the pace of my poking him. A couple of times, I
did slip out of him. He raised his right leg and led me back into his
opening. I was beginning to think that I would never get off, and that he
would not cum either. The cramped quarters would be enough to discourage
most people, but we were determined to accomplish our mission. Alone in our
living room, we had lots of time and opportunities to cheat by altering our
position to let me get completely in him. On the plane, that would not be an
option. Half an hour later, my groin tightened, and I emptied my load just
inside his mancunt. It was probably the weakest orgasm that I had ever had,
and I doubted the he had cum. On the plane, the possibility of getting
caught would probably make things a lot better for both of us. Quickly, I
handed him my handkerchief to use as a dam while he dashed to the bathroom.
In flight, he would have to stuff it up his hole while he discreetly excused
himself, getting past the person in the aisle seat, if there was one, and
went to the lavatory. |
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Our
excitement started on the shuttle between the parking lot and the terminal.
Several gay men started staring at Shelley. I was getting stiff thinking
about the fact that I would be fucking him in three hours, possibly right
next to one of those guys. Shelly cuddled up against me and kissed my cheek. His bare legs begged me to caress them, but I refrained. Check in and the security inspection went smoothly. Certainly one of the inspectors would try to find an excuse to check him with the handheld wand, but they didn't. As we headed to the shuttle for the midfield terminal, I realized that I had wanted to watch him being frisked. We finally arrived in our boarding area fifteen minutes before the aircraft was ready. We had agreed before we left home that we would be calm in the waiting area -- no fondling each other or exhibiting behavior like that. But we were too excited to sit still. My pants bulged at the crotch from the time we parked the car until we took our seats on the plane. The aisle seat was occupied by a man traveling alone. We struck up a casual conversation with him, which continued until the flight attendants started handing out pillows and blankets. We pulled the armrest between us up. The blanket was spread out over us, and Shelly placed his head on my left shoulder. Our seatbacks were tilted as far back as possible. Our new friend adjusted his pillow and closed his eyes. Even though I was excited about what we were about to do, fatigue washed over me. He drew his left leg back indicating his right thigh to my hand. "Ladies and gentlemen," the flight attendant said on the speakers, "please return your tray tables and seat backs to their full upright and locked position. We will be landing at McCarran Field in Las Vegas in just a few minutes. It has been our pleasure to serve you on this flight, and hope to see you again soon." Huh? We just took off from Dulles a few minutes before. My pants were still zipped, but the bulge was gone. Slowly I sat up and lowered the arm rest between us. A few minutes later, the airplane stopped at the jetway, and the passengers were scrambling to get their carryon bags from the overhead bins. Shelly and our seatmate smiled at each other as he started down the aisle toward the door. Wearily, I followed behind him into the terminal lounge. |
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"I guess I fell asleep," I said
softly when we were far enough away from others so that they couldn't hear
me. "Yes," he said, "you were pretty tired from all the running around and the drive to the airport." "I'm sorry. I guess we can join the club on the return flight." The man who had sat next to him waved to us as he headed down the concourse to the baggage claim area. My mouth fell open when Shelly said, "I've already joined." |
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