Archive-name: 3plus/aacockpt.txt

Archive-author: M.A. Mohanraj

Archive-title: American Airlines Cockpit





	Chicago was receding quickly in the distance, its grid of

streetlights fading to a glow of patterned city blocks against the

deep black stillness of the lake.  We climbed higher, gaining altitude

on the first leg of our trip across the Atlantic, bound for England at

Christmastime, December 1992.



	She sat rigid beside me, hands clenched, knuckles white

against the metal of the armrests.  We'd had a drink while waiting in

the airport, and she'd just ordered another from our flight attendant

in his white and blue uniform, slightly rumpled.  Cute, though.

Maybe if she got sufficiently drunk she'd relax enough to survive this

trip.  I was matching her drink for drink...they were free, after all,

and we were on vacation.



"How are you doing?"

"Not too bad.  You?"

"I'm fine.  You know I love flying."

"I hate you."



	She didn't mean it, of course.  Eight years of friendship

couldn't be cancelled out by a little acrophobia.  But I resolved to

be a little more careful what I said.  Time was passing much too

slowly.



	Three hours later; almost halfway to England.  I, for one, was

thoroughly bored and that rumpled flight attendant with the shock of

Midwestern brown hair and mindless calf eyes was starting to look more

and more inviting.  In an effort to distract her, we'd been

complaining about our respective ex-boyfriends and talking about the

joys of sex through the last two or three drinks, and both of us were

now horny as hell.  That one of us was bi, and the other one straight

only added to our frustration.  We'd gotten to that sad point when we

boasted about all the strange places we'd done it, and all the odd

people we'd done it with.



"Want to join the mile-high-club?"

"With whom?  The pimply flight attendant?"

"Yeah, right."



	Surrounding us were hordes of British families, little kids

curled into each other, the seats, their parents.  All heading home

for the holidays.  Not a single lonely man in sight.



"Hey, babe, I got an idea."

"Uh huh.  I remember your last idea.  Almost got us thrown in jail.

And those two guys weren't worth it."

"This is much, much better.  Just think of those poor lonely pilots in

the cabin.  They must be so bored, flying this plane on automatic

across miles and miles of empty ocean.  I bet they're just sitting

back and dreaming of a pair of nubile, 21-yr-old college students

fulfilling their every desire."

"And you want to fulfill their fantasies, right?"

"Well, maybe not all of their fantasies.  They probably ought to keep

their hands on the equipment.  But we could provide a

little...entertainment?  I dare you to."

"You what?"

"I dare you to."

"We're not kids anymore."

"Exactly."



	We thought about it for a while.  As we worked out the

strictly hypothetical details, it became more and more tempting.  The

perfect way to relieve boredom, maybe relieve a little frustration,

and forget about the two idiots we'd left in Chicago.  After all, we

were single again now.  No ties, no responsibilities.  And it would be

a hell of a lot of fun.



"You first."

"No, you."

"Together, then?"

"Here goes nothing."



***



	Hell of a flight. The typical crying kids for the first two

hours, then, just when they had all fallen asleep, a drunk guy in

first class started complaining about how he couldn't sleep and the

drinks were weak and the service was lousy.  It had taken two

blankets, three pillows and my own copy of Playboy to shut him up.

Why do people think that the life of a flight attendant is all fun and

games?  Jetting to Hawaii isn't nearly as exciting when you have

to turn around and head to Kansas City half an hour later.



	The only bright spot was the pair of babes in aisle thirty.  I

could've sworn the dark-haired one, who looked Hispanic, winked at me the

last time I went by.  Hey, they're buzzing me.



"Don't worry, Rina, I'll get it."

"Thanks, Mike, I'm crashing."

"Don't say that too loud."

"Very funny."



	Hah.  I crack me up.  Well, let's see what they want.

Probably just a pillow.



"Hi, honey."

"Hello, ma'am, what can I do for you?"

"Well, it's kind of complicated.  See, my friend here, she's always

wanted to be a pilot, and she'd really love to get a look at the

cockpit. It's so quiet now, we thought it might be a good time."

"Ummm...well, I'm not sure if the captain would approve of that,

ma'am".

"But you could ask, couldn't you?"

"Sure thing.  Just hold on a minute."



	Well, Tony didn't seem to mind too much, since it was so quiet

and such a slow flight.  So I brought them forward.  Then things got

really weird.



"What's your name, captain?"

"I'm Tony, miss, and my co-pilot here is Christopher, and that's Mike,

your flight attendant, over by the door."

"Must be pretty boring for you up here..."

"Well, we have to check the instruments fairly often - every twenty

minutes or so."



	The blond looked over at the Hispanic girl, and asked, "Do you

think twenty minutes is enough?"  She replied, "Should be plenty.

Check your instruments, please, gentlemen." and coolly, calmly,

started unbuttoning her shirt.



"Now, gentlemen, we'd like you to settle a little bet for us, if you

don't mind.  My friend and  I were debating which of us could do the

best strip-tease.  We'd like to demonstrate for you, and ask you to

judge, if that's okay with you?"



	None of us were about to object, that was for sure.  The blond

came over to me, and pushed me over a bit so I was leaning against the

door.  Then she leaned against a wall and watched the show.



	The Hispanic girl had long wavy black hair, almost to her

waist, swinging loose behind her back.  She had been wearing a sort of

lacy black sweater, but she'd just finisehd unbuttoning it and was

slipping it off, one smooth brown shoulder at a time.  Underneath was

a cropped white tank and a long, loose black skirt.



"What's next, guys, shirt or skirt?"

"Hey, no fair asking for advice!"

"Okay, okay..."



	She shimmied out of the skirt, leaving it in a pool of black

fabric on the floor of the cockpit.  Her legs were bare now, a creamy

brown line from black lace panties down to the top of black boots,

laced up to mid-calf.  She raised her right leg, and placed it gently

in Christopher's lap.



"Could you help me with my laces, captain?"

"He's the co-pilot.", Tony quickly interjected.  "I'm the captain."

"That's okay, captain, you can do the other one."



	Chris quickly unlaced the boot and removed it, rubbing his

hands over her calf and down the arch of her foot as he did so.  She

shivered as she pulled her leg away, and placed her left leg on Tony's

lap.  He took a little longer, sliding his hands up to mid-thigh,

until she pulled away, shaking her head.



"Not nice, captain.  There's a wedding ring on that finger."

"We're separated."

"Sure you are."



	She crossed her arms in front of her, and took hold of the

bottom of the white tank, pulling it up over her head and shaking her

hair free.  She must have liked black, because her bra was black too,

lace to match the panties.  The bra looked a little small for her

large breasts, which were spilling out of the top, their dark nipples barely

visible through the lace.



"Mike?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you undo the clasp for me?"

"Yes ma'am!"

	

	I think my fingers were trembling a little, and they must have

been ice-cold, because she whimpered a bit when I touched her back.  I

had a little trouble with the clasp, but I finally got it free.  I

didn't have the nerve to touch her the way the captain had, but I

could smell her perfume as she leaned close.  She smelled like apples.



	She turned to face us all again, and slowly, teasingly, pulled

her bra straps off her shoulders, letting the bra fall to the floor to

join the pile of black and white clothing.  She had huge breasts,

maybe as big as the girls in Playboy, but a lot darker than most of

theirs.  Her dark brown nipples stuck straight out, maybe from the

cold in the air-conditioned cockpit.  She slid her hands down her

body, curving them around her breasts and across her slightly rounded

stomach.  She stuck out her hip a little, and hooked her finger in the

black lace of her panties...then paused.



	She walked over to Christopher.



"Chris?  Would you mind helping me get these off?  With your teeth?"



	Chris looked startled for a second, but quickly nodded.  He

leaned towards her, and gently took her panties in his teeth.  I

couldn't see very well in the darkened cockpit, but it took him an

awfully long time to get them off and she was making these little

noises and sort of swaying back and forth, so I guess he was helping

her out a little.  He finally slid them down her thighs and calves and

she stepped out of them, swinging her hair around her as she turned to

face us.



"Well, guys, how do I rate?"



	We quickly and unanimously voted her a perfect ten.  The blond

was sort of smiling, sort of frowning, and beckoned her over for a

whispered conversation.



***



"You cheated so badly.  And you got off - don't deny it!"

"I won't.  I'll concede you the moral victory if you want to back out

and go back."

"Oh no you don't.  You can just stand there...and I don't care if

you're cold, don't you dare put your clothes back on...and watch me.

But I'm changing the rules a little."

"Whatever makes you happy."



***



	The blond grinned as they finished talking.  She walked over

to Tony, hips swinging.



"It seems that my friend got you guys all hot and bothered, but wasn't

thoughtful enough to take care of that little problem.  So Chris, I

want you to get up and come over here.  Don't worry about the plane -

I'm sure it'll be fine."



	She reached back and pulled her hair out of its ponytail,

letting it fall forward over her face, veiling its sharp angles and

wicked eyes.  Then she quickly kicked off her shoes, unzipped her

jeans and struggled out of them, sighing in relief when she got them

off.  She said over her shoulder to her friend,



"Remind me to wear looser clothes on the trip back."

"Promise."



	She then slid off her white panties, baring smooth creamy-pink

skin and fuzzy blond hair, leaving herself dressed only in a long blue

shirt.  She turned to Chris and unbuttoned his pants, unzipping the

fly and pulling them down a little to reveal his cock, fully erect.

She grinned at him, and said, "I think you can find a place to put

that" as she knelt down, facing away from him and towards Tony.  She

then reached over to Tony, but he'd already pulled out his cock, and

offered it to her waiting mouth.  She went down on it hard, and he

just closed his eyes and smiled as her head started bobbing up and

down, her hair shielding his lap from view.



	Chris hesitated again, looking uncertainly at the dark-haired

girl leaning against the wall.  She shrugged, and smiled at him.  He

shook his head a little, then turned to his duffelbag, stowed securely

in a compartment.  After poking through it a bit, he pulled out a

condom and put it on.  I sort of thought that ruined the wildness of

it all, but Chris is British, and he's the careful type.  It didn't

take him long to slide his cock into her waiting cunt, though.  She

moaned at that, and then her head started moving faster, as Chris

quickly started moving back and forth, his arms curving around her

small body.



	I looked at the naked dark-haired girl, but she shook her head

at me, hair waving a little in the air-conditioned breeze.



"Sorry, kid.  I've got my own problems.   Maybe next time."



	So I started jerking myself off in the corner.  I was a little

embarassed at first, but the whole thing was so unreal, with these two

beautiful women coming out of nowhere, doing stuff that none of the

girls I knew would ever do, that I couldn't stay embarassed for long.

I wated the blond's head whipping back and forth as the three of them

moved faster and faster, Chris's hands clenched tight around her small

breasts, then sliding over her ribs.  Tony suddenly moaned, after

being completely silent for so long.  Seconds later, Chris and the

girl suddenly stopped moving, and a sort of choked whimper came from

behind the curtain of her hair.  The blond leaned back into Chris's

arms and they stayed still for a little while.  I was still jerking

myself off, and staring at the Hispanic girl's breats, gently moving

up and down as she breathed, nipples still hard from the cold.  I

guess she felt sorry for me, because a second later she was kneeling

in front of me and her mouth fell over my cock, sliding warmly down

its length.  I came immediately, spilling cum into her mouth which she

swallowed almost eagerly.  Nobody'd ever done that to me before.



	They both got up and got dressed in silence.  Then they turned

towards us just before opening the door.



"Well, guys?  Who won?"



	There was no way we could answer that question.  A slightly

uncomfortable silence filled the small room.  The blond shook her

head, smiled, and opened the door.  She took her friend's hand and

pulled her through.  And they were gone.



***



"There's no way we'll settle the bet now."

"Not after the way you cheated, anyway."

"I, cheated?  You cheated first."

"Only a little.  And I thought you had sworn yourself to celibacy."

"Well, people change."

"I guess so."

"So what do we do about the bet?"

"There's still all of London, you know."

"That's true.  Hotel clerks, waiters..."

"Museum guards, theater ticket sellers..."

"And if we get bored, Scotsmen and their kilts aren't far at all,

lassie..."



	Her perfect Scots accent cracked me up, and we dissolved into

mutual hilarity.  A British man across the aisle frowned at the noise,

no doubt thinking it improper at such a late hour.  We laughed some

more at that, until she started yawning.  It was only two more hours

to London, but that was enough time to catch a little sleep.  She was

looking more relaxed than I'd seen her in weeks, despite being in a

small metal machine very far up over a very deep ocean.  Maybe this

really had worked.



"You do have to promise me one thing."

"Whatever makes you happy, babe."

"When we talk about this, years from now, promise me no jokes about

cockpits?"

I grinned.  "Promise."



*****



July 6, 1993



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