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Archive-name: Samesex/


Archive-title: Air Screw

    As a frequent jetsetter, I have for long fantasized about this ex-

clusive club,  which in reality probably has few authentic members who

have genuinely screwed their way through the stratosphere. How can you

manage to  have-it-away on  board a  crowded airliner? Well recently I

succeeded -  and how! This amazing experience happened on the top deck

of a BA 747 heading out of New York for Heathrow, with a beautiful boy

I had never met before.

    I had  had a  hectic day  getting my  work completed before flying

out, got  to the  airport late,  and consequently was glad to have got

through the  airport hassle and slump into my Club Class seat. The top

deck of  the 747  has a  small cabin which some airlines use for first

class passengers, but many including BA, use for Business Class; there

are only  20 or  30 seats,  which gives  you the feeling of being in a

small, but  spacious airliner.  The top  deck is  reached via a spiral

staircase and  you travel cut off from the masses on the main deck be-

low. This  flight, luckily,  was fairly  empty so I was fortunate that

through the  lottery of seat allocations, Lars, as he turned out to be

named, took  up the aisle seat corresponding to my window seat and no-

body else got seated either between us or in the row on the other side

of the aisle.

    Lars was slim and blond, about 25 I guessed, (rightly as it turned

out), and clearly well endowed in all the important places. He had re-

markably light  blue eyes  and was obviously in some form of business,

as he  had a small patent leather brief case and when he took his coat

off he  was smartly  dressed in a cotton shirt and white jeans - which

showed his  firm, well-shaped figure to good effect. I found out later

that he  was Swedish,  a junior  salesman for an internationally known

cosmetics company, who at short notice had been given a lucky break to

substitute for  his boss  on a business trip to the USA. His firm but-

tocks thrust  out firmly  through his  thin white  denim jeans  as  he

arched his  back to remove his coat and hand it to the stewardess. The

jeans were  very tight  and showed  his well shaped legs to advantage.

But he  also radiated something sensual which aroused the first slight

stirrings in  my crotch.  I realised  I was feeling quite horny and in

the mood  for conquest,  but not in my wildest dreams did I guess what

delights were to follow!

    He looked  nervous and  fidgeted when he sat down; he very readily

started chatting.  I needn't  bore you  with the contents of our chat,

except that  I soon  persuaded him  to move  next to me from his aisle

seat, so  we could  talk easier. He was obviously a bit scared of fly-

ing. It transpired this was only his second long distance flight. Soon

after take-off  we hit  some unusually  bumpy weather;  the seat  belt

signs came  on and Lars wrung his hands and looked scared. Naturally I

put my arm on his thigh to comfort his and he leant his soft, perfumed

blond hair  against my  shoulder and visibly relaxed. The 747 flew out

of the  turbulence but I was glad to find he showed no sign of wanting

me to  take my  hand away. The meal on a tray came and went and I felt

really strong  stirrings in my pants when he snuggled back against me,

until recently  a complete stranger. The stewardess brought the drinks

trolley and  I persuaded Lars to have a double gin with a bit of tonic

which visibly relaxed him some more.

    He snuggled  closer and reminded me of a purring cat. British Air-

ways, ever  cooperative, chose  that moment  to dim  the lights and to

start the in flight movie. I started taking a few liberties with where

I moved my hands, aided by the semi-darkness, but half expecting to be

rebuffed as, after all, I was fondling a fella who until a few minutes

earlier had  been a total stranger - this was too good to be true! But

I could  not help  noticing signs that my efforts were stirring up his

hormones; his  face looked  flushed, his eyes were soft and his pupils

large. My  left hand  closed over his left thigh. He made no effort to

discourage me,  so I  gradually eased  my hand into a position where I

could massage the slight mound of his crutch straining through the ma-

terial of  his jeans. By now, I felt rampant; my trousers bulged as if

they would  burst and I began to wonder if we could satisfy our wildly

growing passions.

    He snuggled closer and started stroking my leg in an absent minded

kind of  way, fairly  innocently near my knee. The arm of the seat was

getting in  our way,  luckily they hinge back, so I lifted it and took

the opportunity  to slide  my arm  right around  his left hip so as to

push my  hand under his thigh. The band of his jeans was loosen enough

for me  to feel  his cotton  clad crutch. I was pleased to find he was

wearing pants and as I reached warm, smooth, bare skin slid my fingers

into the  tight silky  pouch of  his underpants.  He made no effort to

discourage my  wandering fingers, so, pulling him closer I covered our

laps with  a BA  blanket, and  boldly stroked  his thigh with my other

hand, working  his jeans down as I went. He sighed and parted his legs

slightly when  my hand brushed over the area of his warm smelling male

groin and my fingers at last brushed gently against the thin silky ma-

terial of his knickers, tightly stretched over his sexual mound.

    My cock  throbbed with  excitement and  anticipation and  I had to

slow down and mentally count to ten to avoid filling my pants with cum

when I  realised he  was not only going to let me reach my target, but

was panting  for me as much as I was for him. I inserted my fingers as

far as  I could  between his  legs, and  stroked them gently along the

warm and  noticeably damp  material covering  his prick  and up to the

summit of his pubic mound. He sighed and gripped me tight as my finger

deliberately sought  and found his sexy prick. I felt him hand cup the

bulge in  my trousers. We kissed long and passionately; it was strange

I thought  to have  got to  such a  level of  intimacy without  having

kissed before. I exercised as much self-control as I could muster as I

felt the  exquisite feeling  of his hand gently exploring my throbbing

cock. In  return, my  fingers pulled  aside the warm silky band of his

pants; and  I was  able to  stroke warm  downy hair and feel the hard,

warm, wet  and incredibly  inviting intimate sex. I wrapped my fingers

round his  hard shaft, and gently massaged it; I then rolled his heavy

balls encased in their hot sac gently and firmly between my finger and

thumb. He  clung to  me more  tightly, eyes closed, and his hips shud-

dered; he sighed again and we kissed passionately.

    But it is one thing to snog, even as naughtily as this, in an air-

plane full  of people  but quite another to remove the garments neces-

sary to couple us in the way we were both obviously craving for and to

release our  wild passion in the sexual frenzy we both felt. How could

we satisfy  our enormous  lusts? What  with cabin crew wondering back-

wards and forwards behind us to and from the galley, we could not eas-

ily strip  off and start humping without the risk of creating a sensa-

tion on board. I had visions of us being arrested for grossly indecent

behaviour in  a Jumbo  Jet! Could  I somehow get my cock out and force

down his  tight panties?  But what position could we use? Nothing else

in the  world now  mattered except  an overpowering  urge to  stuff my

straining rod  into the  depths of  his warm,  eager arse. But trivial

problems like  tight jeans,  trouser zips,  stretched Y fronts and un-

yielding aircraft seats made this ambition hard to realise.

    Lars, as  always, was  way ahead  of me.  He gave my cock a gentle

squeeze which  nearly fired  it off,  and got  up without  a word  and

strolled seemingly casually towards the loo at the front of the cabin.

I contemplated  following him  into it, having heard stories of people

having it  away in railway carriage loos. But this always seemed to me

to demand  contortionist skills, apart from being not exactly comfort-

able or aesthetic! Also, there was no doubt that the passengers watch-

ing the  movie would  have noticed  me following  a boy  into the lav,

which on  the top  deck of  a 747  is alongside the screen for the in-

flight movie, which was then in full flow. The thought of banging away

in that confined space and of re-emerging afterwards was too daunting,

even in my highly charged state!

    Lars re-emerged  a few moments later, quicker than usual when peo-

ple use  a loo,  looking inscrutable.  He grabbed a couple of BA blan-

kets, snuggled back against me and it was a matter of moments to cover

ourselves with  the blanket. In the semi-darkness and in the back row,

we felt safe from prying eyes. My hand went back to where it had been,

to find  just warm  flesh and  no underpants. I inserted a finger into

his warm  and inviting  hole. His  hand was  undoing my zip, under the

cover of  the blanket;  I undid my belt to help him. In a flash (so to

speak) my  trousers and  pants were round my ankles and he was holding

my throbbing  prick like  the gear  level of  a sports car - it nearly

made me change gear - into overdrive!

    His nipples strained against the thin material of his shirt. I un-

did his  shirt to  expose his chest under the blanket. I was then able

to lay  across him  and greedily  suck the  entire nipple  of his left

breast into  my mouth,  with my  head under  the blanket  in raunchily

smelling warm  darkness. I  tickled the  nipple with  the  end  of  my

tongue, an action I have found to be appreciated by other boy friends,

and Lars  was no  exception! He  cradled my  head with one hand like a

baby held  to his  breast and gently stroked away at my straining cock

from its tip along its underside to my balls. He was clearly an accom-

plished lover.  I moved  my head  to his lap and attempted to lick his

prick, but this was almost impossible in an aircraft seat, even though

he parted his legs as widely as the limited space would let him. I re-

member the  overwhelming scent of excited male mixed with the smell of

his perfume,  but could only nuzzle his fur and kiss the smooth inside

skin of his thighs.

    Lars unzipped  his jeans and wriggled out of them, still under the

blankets. "Please.."  he moaned - "please.." - I felt the same way. he

turned to  face away  from me,  and firmly  pressed  his  shapely  bum

against my left thigh. Making sure the blanket was covering us well, I

twisted around until my throbbing tool was pressed up against the val-

ley between  his buns;  it was a similar position as if he was sitting

on my lap. I could probe his arse with my dick. He arched his back and

raised his right thigh and firmly holding the end of my pulsing penis,

he guided it into the mouth of his soft hole. I pushed hard so my cock

slid smoothly  into his  firm warm  tunnel. I  cupped both his breasts

with my  hands and  pulled him hard against me to penetrate as deep as


    He sighed  and shuddered  and his  hips moved  gently and rhythmi-

cally. The  need to copulate quietly to avoid attracting attention was

not forgotten,  despite our  extreme passion.  This need  forced us to

perform using  hard pressure  and firm small movements; he thrust hard

against my  equal and  opposite series of nudges. My instincts desper-

ately wanted  me to  pump every  last drop  of my  spunk into  him  as

quickly and  violently as  possible, but  my intellect made me want to

prolong this  ecstasy. The  discipline of doing it slowly and quietly,

so as not to attract attention, made it easier to prolong the excruci-

ating pleasure  without climaxing.  Curiously I have always found that

the longer  and steamier  the foreplay  the better I can hold on until

the crucial  moment of a mutual climax. I was able to relax and savour

the exquisite pleasure of being coupled with my beautiful fellow trav-

eller. I  forced my  left hand between his waist and the seat until my

it could  reach past  his bush and grip his throbbing cock jutting out

like a  red hot poker which I correctly guessed would fire his climax.

We were  now locked together and so overcome with desperate excitement

that at  that moment neither of us would have cared if all the passen-

gers and  crew were  watching, although we kept straining against each

other and moving slowly with great force to avoid attracting unwelcome

attention. I could feel his muscles pulling and rippling at my strain-

ing hunk  of meat that I cruelly rammed into him with as much force as

I could  manage. He  had superb muscular co-ordination and was able to

achieve what few boys I have coupled with can do, to give a feeling of

sucking me into him with muscular ripples of his anal ring.

    I could  hold back no longer and erupted into frenzied, deep, deep

wild spasms  pumping and  pumping what seemed like gallons of my juice

as deep  into him  as I  could. As  I felt  my ejaculation  erupting I

pumped at  his rod.  He shuddered  and bucked and his internal muscles

rippled along  me forcing  out the  last small jerks of spunk. We sub-

sided against  each other quite breathless and trying not to pant loud

enough to  attract attention.  Our fuck  had only taken ten minutes; I

glanced nervously  over my  shoulder and  saw a steward's head rapidly

disappear behind  the galley  curtain. Had he realised what we were up

to? No  way of  telling, but judging from the slightly awe-struck look

he gave us later, I suspected he had guessed! I wondered how often the

back seat  of this  cabin was  consummated by  new members of the "Six

Mile High"  club and  whether aircrew  ever join  this  club  for  fun

(considering they  have many  more opportunities than even us frequent

business travellers).  So thinking,  I dozed  off still clutching Lars

tight in my arms, my deflating cock lying stickily against his leg.

    We woke  up pantless  and trouserless still under our blanket. The

movie had  finished, the  aircraft was in darkness, we only took a few

minutes to  arouse each  other to another insatiable frenzy and I soon

had pumped  yet another  generous load  of cum  into his  willing  and

inviting hole.  Not being  satisfied with basic membership of the "Six

Mile high Club" we had even found time for a second helping.

    The cosy  space under  our blanket reeked of our sexual couplings:

we blotted  ourselves with  tissues which  Lars produced.  He wriggled

back into his jeans, I wriggled back into my clothes, while he went to

the loo  to tidy  himself up.  he re-emerged  looking immaculate  (and

stunning). Breakfast  was served,  and there  was little  to say after

this amazing  night of  passion. Soon the aircraft landed, and we went

our separate  ways -  he had a connecting flight to catch to Sweden. A

quick handshake and a coy smile as we parted; "till next time!" I went

through immigration and customs in a post-coital daze. Sadly our paths

have not  yet crossed again, and if they do, I wonder whether we would

ever achieve  such ecstatic  feelings as those of two strangers coming

together in such total uninhibited and lustful intimacy in such an im-

possible place?

    Any other  sexy lads  who would  like to  join the  "Six Mile High

Club" are  welcome to  fly with  me - any time! It certainly makes the

flight pass quickly (Caledonian Stewards apply here!).


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