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Archive-name: Samesex/5milehi.txt

Archive-author: Mike Khan (Leatherman)

Archive-title: Five Mile High Club


.            F i v e  M i l e  H i g h  C l u b

.              from "The Leatherjacket Tales"


I remember the good old days of flying, when the great 747

fleet first graced the skies.  It was the peak of the jet age

and the world looked on us as the elite of the elite.  We set

the standard by which all commercial flying was judged.  I

recall how honoured I was the day I received my flight

attendant wings, my first flight, my promotion to purser.  Ahh

yes, the past was beautiful.  No low budget airlines, no TWA

scabs, no imminent fear of bankruptcy.  We flew with pride and

proved our service was the best.  I worked the New York to

Frankfurt run as often as I could.  Of course, that one day

still stands out strongly in my memory.

We were late boarding for the flight.  I had gone from the

plane into the passenger waiting area.  There I noticed him for

the first time.  He was so handsome-tall, brown hair,

high-cheek boned with deep blue eyes and manly tanned face.

His moustache accented his perfect smile.  Our eyes met.  I

felt like a school boy who is having the first crush on his

teacher.  As I walked  back to the plane, I glanced back at him

only to find him looking at me, grinning like someone with a

secret he is aching to tell.  I notice he was tall and well

framed, even in his business suit.

I returned to my post in the first class cabin and waited to

see if he would be seated near my position.  Alas, he was not

amongst the first class group.  I sighed as we closed the

doors. One of the stewardess in the aft of the economy cabin

called me to come to the rear galley.  I carefully checked each

passenger as I walked down the aisle, trying to give the

appearance that I was inspecting seat belts when in reality I

was looking for him.  I was perplexed as I failed to find him.

The disappointed look disappeared from my face as I walked back

towards the first class cabin.  There, in seat 23 A, was my

handsome stranger.

"Excuse me," he asked, " but what is the flying time to

Frankfurt?" I laughed and replied with the 7 and 1/2 hour

flight time along with the complete routing that flight 66

would be taking that evening.  He thanked me and as I told him

I hope i could be of service to him during the flight, he

chuckled saying, "I'm sure you will be".

The flight finally took off with its usual 45 minute delay.

All during the meal service I kept finding excuses to walk

about the cabin to steal a glance at my friend in 23 A.  When

the meal service was ended in the back, the movie began.  I

brought 23A a glass of champagne.  We spoke casually about this

and that, but our eyes were glued to each others during the

conversation. I was anxious for the meal service to end.  It

seemed to be an eternity. All I wanted to do was be with 23A.

Finally, the service ended, the passengers were either as

soundly asleep as they could be in an airplane, except those in

First class who comfortably lounged in their sleeperette seats.

The crew was beginning to rest.  I went into the bathroom to

fix appearance.  I looked at my eyes in the small mirror.  They

seemed to me like two brown dots that were  overworked.  I

combed my longish brown hair into place, even combing my

moustache.  I then proceeded to 23A.

My friend was asleep in his seat.  I sat next to him.  The

presence of my body caused him to awaken.  We spoke.  I had a

great idea.  I decided to give him a tour of the plane.  We

walked towards the galley elevator.  I saw my closest friend,

Steve, who was working the flight with me.  I nodded at him and

he knew what he had to do.  Meanwhile, my new friend and I went

down to the lower galley.

The lower galley no longer exists in our fleet of planes, but

oh, I tell you, I was glad we had it that day.

My companion and I entered the empty galley.  The lighting was

dim.  The drone of the jet engines could be heard louder than

before.  We spoke without as much fear of being heard.  I could

see the bulge in his suit.  As we looked into each others eyes,

our lips suddenly met and we began to embrace.  Our kissing

became more passionate, my tongue working against the inside of

his mouth with our lips hard pressed.  THE heat of our longing

grew.  I started to kiss his neck, rubbing my hand over his

crotch area.  I felt his hard organ beneath his clothes.  I

unbuttoned his shirt and began to suck on his erect nipples.

Slowly, I worked my way down to his pants.  My hand worked his

cock out from under them.  It was hard and erect.  My tongue

licked the head and slowly went around the shaft.  As I sucked

on his immense organ, my fingers  worked their way around back

and began to tease his tight asshole. He moaned as I took his

shaft deep into my throat.  "Oh, yeah,"he groaned in

excitement"uuuhhhhhhhhh...Fuck me, please, fuck me" he asked as

he moved his body in response to my work.

I stopped sucking on him and stood up, removing the last of his

clothes.  He looked beautiful, standing naked in the galley.  I

knew I had time as Steve was above keeping guard and would

signal me in plenty of time if there was trouble.  By now my

own uniform was on the floor.  He was rubbing his hands over my

hairy chest and worked them down to my cock.  He knelt before

me and  took my eight inch organ into his mouth, making it more

erect with each sucking movement.

I then forced him to stand again.  I turned him against the

galley counter.  I stretched his arms out and tied them with

some cord that was in one of the holds tightly to the counter.

His feet were spread, legs apart, and ass ready for action.  I

took some butter that was handy and used it to lube his hole.

I soon positioned myself behind him and began to work my hard

cock into his waiting hole.  He moaned,"slowly...ahhhh,

slowly." As I pushed into him he began to beg me to push in

deeper, deeper, and deeper-until the full length of my shaft

was in him.  I began to ram hard into his ass.  My balls

slapped against his smooth, firm buns.  Harder and deeper I

worked in the dim lights.  Here we were, 36000 or more feet up

above the North Atlantic, fucking our brains out in the galley

of a Boeing aircraft.  If the designers  only knew.  I wanted

him more with each movement.  My body tingled in great pleasure

as my cock moved into and out of his aching lovehole.  His ass

felt tight and warm as I rammed harder, almost without mercy

into his bond body.  He begged me to shoot my load.  As I

burned his ass with my cock, I reached my hand around and

worked his hard tool.  I slowed my pace and played with the

head of his cock.  This added to his own excitement.  He was

wild with  passion.  I began to fuck him hard again.  As I

forced my organ into him, I slapped his ass with my hand.  Each

slap was harder than the one before.  The sound of the engines

drowned out his moans.  I continued again to play with his ripe

cock, twisting it in one hand as I squeezed his balls with the

other. I could hardly stand it myself much longer.  We were

moving as one being.   "I'm cumming!" he groaned.  I felt his

body stiffen and he tightened the muscles of his hole around my

cock as his own cock relieved itself of its juices.  I rammed

harder into his tightened hole, my cock becoming more sensitive

until at last I shot my own load deep inside of him.

I pulled my organ from its warm enclosure and untied my victim.

We kissed and then quickly dressed as I noticed the warning

light, which was Steve's prearranged signal, flash.  I help my

friend back to 23 A and, very satisfied, I returned to clean up

any signs of our fun in the galley.

I was happy to learn later in the flight that he would be

staying at the Intercontinental just as the crew would be.  We

decided to meet in the lobby and we spent that day and night

together until I had to leave to work the return flight back to

New York.  I remember that trip so well.  But, even all

wonderful memories have their flaw.  In all that time, I forgot

to ask him  his name.


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