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Archive name: toilets.txt (FFM, orgy)
Authors name: David Shaw (david@f-e-mail.com)
Story title : Toilets Have Landed, The
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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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The Toilets Have Landed (FFM, orgy)
By David Shaw (david@f-e-mail.com)
***
An airline pilot faces the ultimate challenge to his
flying skill from his female cabin crew.
***
"Hi, lady. Come in and take the weight off. It's hot
outside today. Take a seat over here, by the bar and
you'll get a great view of the guys on the beach. Better
yet, I'll get a good look at you..."
"Hey, maybe I'm an old goat but I still know how to
compliment a good looking gal. What's your poison,
honey..?"
"Sure, this is Four Johns Johnson's bar. I am Four Johns
Johnson -- pleased to meet you..."
"No, no, lady, we only have the usual two johns in this
bar. Male and female, just like everywhere else..."
"No, it's nothing to do with the bar. It's my handle, has
been for years. Take a look at the photo on the wall,
right there. See that, a 767 coming into the ramp at Gate
Tango-2 at O'Hare, with the fire crew wetting the plane
down? That's a tradition when the pilot is retiring. That
was my last flight as a Senior Captain with West and
Western. Twenty-two years on a flight deck and that was
the day it ended. But see those four guys standing out in
the spray each holding up a toilet seat lid over his head
and laughing fit to bust? Yeah, even if I say it myself I
was a legend in the business. Everybody knew about Four
Johns Johnson, the man who pulled off the best known
landing in airline history. Mind you, the company went
apeshit over that photo, trying to keep the media from
finding out what the deal was with those toilet seats..."
"You want to hear the story? Sorry, but it's not one for
mixed company, especially a nice lady like yourself..."
"You're a lawyer? OK, maybe you're not so nice after all
then. But even so, this might shock you. Do you promise
not to sue me if I confess my sins...?"
"Well, if you're sure you're game you'd better tell me
your name -- hey, I'm a poet..!"
"OK, Gloria, I'll tell you what happened, and it was a
while ago now. But it was an even longer time ago when I
left the Air Force and first became a commercial pilot.
I'm talking prehistory here. Before deregulation, before
9/11, God, almost before computers on the flight deck In
those wonderful days we had people called flight
engineers up front with us and we had these other people
called stewardesses out back to look after the
passengers. Not flight attendants or customer service
consultants or whatever the hell they're called nowadays.
We had stewardesses, and they had a service life of about
two years, by which time they were either pregnant, or
engaged, or both. They were all in their early twenties,
they were all drop dead gorgeous, they were all marriage
hungry and we used to call them menu items. As in 'what's
on your menu tonight? Mandy or the new blonde?'"
"I can see you pulling a face at me, Gloria. You want to
put me on the stand and make me confess to being a
disgusting old maleist, right? Well, that was the way the
job was then. God, they were beautiful times. But I'll
tell you this, never, never walk away with the idea that
we pilots didn't respect those gals back there in the
cabin. We did then and we still do, even if a lot of them
are guys now. That doesn't matter, what does matter is
that if the shit ever hits the fan it's the cabin crew
who have to take control of hundreds of panic stricken
passengers and get them off the plane safely. Even if
they never have an emergency come up in their careers,
boy, do the FA's get plenty of hassles from the
passengers, especially after deregulation let all the
screwballs loose on us. Rum and coke again?"
"OK, so take it from one who knows, I was absolutely
terrified about twelve times flying commercial jets and
ten of those times it because of passengers who should
have been doing cell time with Hannibal Lector. I'd
rather have been a garbage collector than deal with
airline passengers every day, especially when it comes to
being locked in the same cabin as the mad bastards. And,
apart from the passengers, the stews had all kinds of
other problems to deal with that you'd never think of.
Have you ever tried cooking eggs at 40,000 feet, Gloria?
If you do, you'll find they turn green. There's a whole
lot of strange things happen in that kind of environment.
Anyway, that was the way things were when I was green
myself, a green young co-pilot living way up there in
pilot's heaven. And then God blew his whistle and told
everybody to get out of the pool. Suddenly it was
paradise lost..."
"God, is that girl on that board wearing a bikini or not?
Sure as hell isn't my eyesight going because I can see
every dimple where she isn't..."
"What went wrong? What happened? No disrespect, Gloria,
but lawyers happened, that's what. Come the 1970's and
suddenly the airlines were being taken to court by girls
who'd been put off because they were overage, or married
or whatever. And the stews started winning the cases.
Only they weren't stewardesses anymore, now they were
flight attendants. Before long we had married flight
attendants with kids for God's sake, working mothers on
red eye flights whose idea of fun was getting back home
in time for an hour in bed before cooking the family
breakfast. Suddenly we went from being a bunch of playboy
pilots flying around glamorous trolley dollies to being
glorified chauffeurs for a bunch of slam-clickers..."
"What's a slam-clicker? She's a beautiful looking woman
in her thirties with a wedding ring who brings the coffee
up to the flight deck, lays on all the smiles and moves
to the pilots, goes to the crew hotel with you, says
"Goodnight, guys, nice to fly with you," slams her door
shut and the next thing you hear is the door lock
clicking. That's a slam-clicker."
"OK, so now comes the three day working trip when I get
famous -- or maybe infamous. I was forty-two years old,
I'd arrived for duty at O'Hare on a January morning, and
Chicago was as cold as the proverbial witch's clit. So
I'm dreaming of how I'm going to retire in a year or so
and own a bar in the tropics and spend my time talking to
beautiful lawyers..."
"You think I'm being smooth now? Wait until you hear the
story..."
"Listen in, then, and I'll tell you. I walked into the
company flight center, signed my release, then pulled
down all my flight details off the computer. I was going
places, none of them I really wanted to, finishing off
for the day at Tucson. Well, that was something, anyway.
The last landing of the day is always the hardest work
but Tucson was an airport I always liked. Never any snow,
rarely any rain: the wind can get tricky sometimes, but
not often. Yeah, Tucson was a gift compared to some pit
of an airport like Washington National, LA International
or La Garbage at New York.
"Then, as I was leaving the flight center, I took a
glance at the whiteboard on the wall which had odds and
ends of company information on it. One of the notations
was that Mr. Greenmont, the company chief security
officer was going to be in Tucson on the same day that
I'm flying down. Now that was kind of strange because
anytime you have a senior company guy on board, it's
noted in your flight details. I double checked the sheet,
but no mention of Greenmont's name. So if he was
scheduled for Tucson, how was he going to get there?
Obviously, it had to be a West and Western flight, we
didn't pay other airlines to haul our own assholes
around, which, incidentally, was what this guy Greenmont
was by all accounts, a grade A asshole. And I knew the
only other flight W&W had going to Tucson that day was a
night shuttle which had gone out about 1 PM. So either
this guy was on my flight and I wasn't being told about
it, which was strange; or Greenmont had slipped off to
Tucson well before the crock crowed. Which was even
stranger. Airline executives, even small times one, don't
usually travel on rocket flights.
"So, I went to the plane and asked my Chief Flight
Attendant to find out if Greenmont was onboard. She
checked the passenger list, said he wasn't, I shrugged my
shoulders and got on with my job. After we'd got to our
flight level and I'd handed over to the co-pilot I had
time to run a few stray thoughts through my head. But
they weren't about William H. Greenmont, security guy.
What had my attention was the gal I'd spoken to about
him. The CFA that day was a lady called Yvonne Page. A
real wise old Senior Mama in the system, maybe a couple
of years younger than me, kids in college, but still a
hell of a figure, auburn hair and luscious. To me, she
was like some kind of Italian film star, the Sophia Loren
earth mother type but always immaculately dressed and
presenting herself like a fashion model. When she wasn't
running an airliner she worked as a part time stockbroker
and that woman absolutely oozed class. Out of the top
drawer as the British say -- just like you, Gloria..."
"It's a house rule. The more drinks you buy, the more I
flatter the customers. And if you buy me one as well I'll
really go over the top..."
"Another one all round it is then. OK, so I was wondering
whether to make another pass at Yvonne in Tucson, though
it hardly seemed worthwhile bothering. We'd flown
together three or four times in the last two months and
every time I'd made an approach to her I'd been waved
off. Nothing rancorous or bad tempered, mind you, just a
stunning smile and a slam-click in the face. So I was
thinking about Yvonne and then another girl comes into
the cockpit with the coffee -- girl! I mean I'm not
saying her first flight was handing out spam sandwiches
on a DC3 but she was as much a Senior Mama as Yvonne
herself was. A nice looking one, too, a blonde, with an
ass to pant over. But two attendants of that seniority on
the same flight? It had to be some kind of a roster fuck
up. Still, I had to go back for a leak anyway, so I
thought I'd check to see if we've got a couple of young
trainees on board to balance things up.
"So, I went to the john and I had a look at the other
attendants, and I'm thinking to myself that something is
seriously wacky around here because the other two FA's
both look like they've got more flight time than I have.
I've got a crew of females on my plane who probably have
enough experience between them to fly the goddamn thing
home themselves and field strip the engines afterwards.
"I collected another cup of coffee and went up to the
flight deck again to do some real thinking. In all my
time with the company I've never seen a bunch of
attendants with this much seniority serving on one crew.
If it was just an odd coincidence, OK, but what if it
wasn't a coincidence? I tell you, Gloria, it suddenly
occurred to me that it was a set up and I was the set
upee. I mean, sure, I made quite a few passes at the
lasses, but at least I had enough sense to stick to women
of my own age. So maybe the company was putting a big
pile of temptation in my path and Greenmont was lurking
down there in Arizona ready to pounce on my ass with
sexual harassment charges as soon as I opened my big
mouth to one of those ladies -- or maybe, knowing me, to
all of them.
"Yeah, that was the way I figured it, until I had second
thoughts. There was no reason why the company would want
to get rid of me. Not that I knew of anyway. But the
flight attendants, now that a horse of a different color
-- a shitty color. You see, Gloria, back then it was like
today in one way -- the airline, all airlines, were
desperate to save money. One of the big problems W and W
had was with the unions, and they'd got a deal going that
whenever a union worker left he or she was replaced with
a non-union one. So we had two pay scales, an 'A' class
one for the long term employees and a much lower 'B'
class one for new starters. I thought about that for a
while and about the fact that I only knew that Greenmont
was in Tucson because of that note on the white board
somebody had probably forgotten to wipe off. Then I
thought about how I was carrying a bunch of FA's who
probably had more years of service between them than any
other four attendants on the airline. And right then I
began to smell a dirty big rat. Like how come somebody
had rostered all these high time 'A' gals on one flight?
And like why Greenmont was sneaking down to Tucson before
sun up?
"I told the co-pilot I was going back again. He looked
pissed because he had to keep an oxygen mask over his
face all the time he was the only pilot on the flight
deck, but to hell with him. I didn't want him hearing
this conversation and I sure didn't want the cockpit
voice recorder taping it either, so I went back to find
Yvonne and took her into the galley. She was looking at
me about the same way as you are now, Gloria, like maybe
I was planning to play grabass with her. But no, I was
there to be the same perfect gentleman I always am.
"'Yvonne,' I said to her. "Maybe you'd be doing yourself
a big favor if you didn't work for peanuts on this trip -
- especially down South' What I was talking about was how
it was considered one of the small perks of the
attendant's job to take home odds and ends of stuff that
was left over from the flight supplies. Three ounce
bottles of liquor, packets of peanuts, individual cartons
of long life milk, those kinds of things. Nobody had ever
made an issue of it until then, it was only nickels and
dimes stuff but, technically, it was stealing. Catching
an employee walking off the job with any company property
could be cause for instant dismissal if the bosses wanted
to be tough guys -- especially if they wanted to be tough
guys trimming down on the payroll.
"Yvonne's eyes widened and I knew she'd joined up all the
dots a lot quicker than I had. She knew exactly what I
was talking about. In fact she was ahead of me. 'Why
Tucson?' she asked. 'Why not O'Hare?' I understood what
she saying, because the girls didn't use of that kind of
stuff in their hotels, they took it back home with them
in their luggage, and the company could have busted them
back in Chicago when they were signing off their rosters.
But then I had another thought.
"'Yvonne,' I said, 'Your union offices are in Chicago, so
are your union lawyers. Way down where the buffalo roam
you're on your own. That's if you should happen to need
some urgent help for any reason.'
"Yvonne kind of cocked her head on one side and asked me
if I knew anything for sure. And, me, I put on my
Sergeant Schultz accent: 'Lady, I know nothing...
nothing.' Then I went back to doing what I was being paid
to do, flying the airplane...
"Another round, Gloria..?
"Sure, I'm trying to get you drunk... There's this great
beach I can take you to where all the ladies go topless -
- and, brother have you got the wherewithal to go without
a top..."
"Tucson? What happened at Tucson? Well, I'm not often
wrong but I was right again. That son of a bitch
Greenmont was waiting there, right in the airport
terminal with a couple of security guys, a deputy sheriff
and a company lawyer. They pounced on the girls' luggage
like they expected the bags to be full of dope or gold
bars or something. And, boy, did those guys get an earful
from Yvonne and the others when they didn't even find a
company issue tissue. Kay asked the company lawyer for
his card and told him her lawyers would be in touch, then
she turned around and demanded the names and addresses
and phone numbers of the deputy and the security guards.
They didn't want to tell her but I told Greenmont that
either she got the goon squad's details or I'd declare
the plane unsafe to fly. Which meant that by the time it
had been checked out the relieving crew would have missed
their slot into Atlanta. And then there'd be headaches up
and down the company chain of command as the!
y rescheduled connections across half the country. So
Greenmont crumpled up and told his bad ass gang to do
what Yvonne wanted....
"No, you're right, Gloria, it didn't do me a lot of good
with W and W. I often wish I'd thought to wipe that note
about Greenmont off the whiteboard before I left the
flight center, but I didn't. Still, I guess all that
happened was that I retired a couple of years earlier
than I might otherwise have done. And even that was worth
it to see the look on Greenmont's face when he hauled out
a pair of scarlet crotchless panties from Yvonne's
suitcase. He went almost as red as the panties and Yvonne
-- well, she looked at me and, sad to say, I must have
had the same sort of expression on my face as Greenmont
had on his. He was hoping to catch her red handed but not
as much as I was dreaming of catching her red knickered.
Of course I wondered who the lucky guy was she was
carrying the hot pants around for and I cordially hoped
the bastard would get a sudden attack of terminal prick
droop, but that was the excitement over. Greenmont was
left looking for a rock to crawl under and I was
entertaining the hope that one of those fortunate four
females would do the decent thing by her captain and let
him fu -- er, enjoy her favors. What the hell, I'd saved
their jobs, was that too much to ask? Don't worry,
Gloria, you needn't give me a legal opinion, it was a
rhetorical question.
"How about a rum cocktail this time? You need lots of
vitamins down here where the nights are always hot and
steamy. And maybe you'd better take a grip on the bar
there, girl, you must be getting drunk, you keep going
out of focus on me...
"What thanks did I get in Tucson? Nothing, zero, zilch,
that was what I got. You know, Gloria, I had an English
grandmother who used to say that kind words never
buttered any parsnips. Yeah, well, I heard a lot of kind
words that night but nobody offered to butter my parsnip,
that was for sure. Slam-click to the power of four, that
was the bottom line.
"Anyway, next day, we doing the second day in the three
day schedule. Hops and stops all over the south west and
I'm on the last leg of the day into Southern California.
I've taken the bird up to cruising altitude, I've told
the passengers where the plane is going, just in case
Superman is on board and he wants to get out and fly
someplace else, I've turned on the dead dog switch and
I'm waiting for my coffee. And then that goddamned blonde
with the big ass arrives and asks me to come back to the
galley for a moment. She's smiling and I'm a seriously
pissed pilot. It's not enough I save these bitches' jobs
without even one of them stepping up to the plate
afterwards to play ball, now they even want me to fetch
my own coffee. I figure it's about time I let them know
who's Captain on this plane. But when I get to the fo'ard
galley all four of the attendants are in there, something
I couldn't understand. Until Yvonne tells me that they've
had a talk together about what happened in Tucson and
they want to give me a sporting chance at a big reward.
What was going to happen was that the girls were going to
put up the four toilet seats in the plane before we
landed and if I could land the 727 down without knocking
any of the lids down, then all four of the stews would
give me a blow job at the hotel that night.
"Gloria, I was holding a cup of coffee in my hand when
Yvonne came out with this and I damned near spilled it
all over me. Well, I did get a couple of drops on my
shirt and suddenly I've got these four woman with paper
towels all around me and stroking me and blowing in my
ear and I'm looking over their heads and the passengers
on a row on either side are watching all this, wide eyed,
and every last one of them is a nun. Honest to God nuns,
if you'll pardon the phrase, with those head coverings
and long black dresses and they're watching their pilot
getting sexed up by the entire cabin crew and for the
first time in my life I'm pushing women away from me...
"What the hell are you laughing at, Gloria? Well, OK, I
guess maybe it is kind of funny when I think back on it.
But I knew I had to get out of there and get my mind on
the job. And then I yelped like a puppy that's getting a
noseful of its own crap as a toilet lesson.
"'You bitches', I said, 'You bitches! This is Craystown
we're talking about here!'
"I was as mad as hell because I'd suddenly realized what
a con job this all was. See, Gloria, Craystown is a
horrible airport. The normal approach can't be used there
because it's blocked off by a range of mountains. The
only way you can get in is to slide down the hills like
you're travelling on cables like a ski lift, and while
that's happening you're skimming over and past hotels
close enough to look into the top rooms. And then, when
you get to the runway, you can't land where you'd
normally land. You have to pull the nose of the plane up,
keep flying down the centerline, drop the wheels behind
what they call a 'displaced threshold', then slam into
reverse thrust, lift your spoilers and put the wheel
brakes hard on. Ask any commercial pilot the worst place
in the country to try and make a featherweight landing
and every one of them would nominate Craystown. And, of
course, Yvonne and her crew knew that as well as I did.
Indian givers..!
"Another drink? Yeah sure. As long as you don't forget
which hotel you're staying at. Be a hell of a shame if
you had to stay here overnight, hey? My wife? Which
one... doesn't matter, they've all moved on now anyway.
There's just me and the bar and my yacht and the Cessna
out at the airport. Want to come flying some time? You
haven't seen coral reefs until you've seen them from the
air.
"Anyway, let me tell you the crazy part of this story. I
swear it's true though. First off, I went back for a leak
halfway through the trip and all these nuns were grinning
and smiling at me. There must have been a dozen of them,
a dozen flying nuns and as I went into the john one of
them called out. 'Mind you leave the seat up, Captain'.
The another one called out: 'Don't worry, we're all
praying for a smooth landing'. And she looked about
twenty and had a face like an angel underneath that
wimple or dimple or whatever the hell they call it.
Christ, yes, one of the attendants must have explained to
them about the scene in the galley and they were loving
the deal. Me, I'd never been so embarrassed in my life...
I mean, what other pilot has ever found himself getting
razzed by a bunch of raunchy nuns when he goes for a
piss?
"Here, grab hold of my hand, Gloria, before you fall off
that seat from laughing. Yeah, maybe it sounds funny but
at the time I was trying to figure out what would happen
if this story got as far as the Vatican. Maybe I'd be the
first pilot ever to be grounded by the Pope. It looked
like even God was against me. Until the tower at
Craystown gave me the local weather. Would you believe
it, a forty knot headwind right down he middle of the
runway. For the first time ever, Gloria, I really
believed in the power of prayer. A gale of wind right
down my throat would cut my ground speed way and hell
back. That meant I could use full flap and if I was as
good as I knew I was I could land that bird at just over
a hundred knots as softly a piece of belly button lint
dropping onto a jelly. Forty knots, headwind, God love us
all. You could fly into that airport for years and never
have that kind of weather working for you.
"Did I make a good landing? With that kind of wind, and
all those flying nuns back there praying for me and the
thought of being orally stimulated by Ms Yvonne Page?
Gloria, it was the best landing of my career. There's
never been a smoother landing at Craystown since the Navy
stopped flying airships back there in 1948. Lady, you've
hit that silk blouse of yours harder with an iron than I
hit the runway that day. Even I wasn't sure exactly when
we went from flying to rolling. Then I was pickling on
the brakes as gently as if I was getting a chance to
stroke Dolly Parton's tits and even with the door closed
I could hear those nuns back there cheering me and I was
wondering who was going to get to hear their confessions
afterwards. What's that, Gloria...?
"No, I don't know what the rest of the passengers
thought. I do know my co-pilot was baffled by it all and
pissed again because I'd taken the landing instead of
letting him do it. Anyway there was no arguing about who
was handling the 727 on the ground. Co-pilots get to fly
some of the time but only the captain is allowed to touch
that little old steering wheel connected to the nose
wheel. Especially with those toilet seats still up and
with somebody having to keep them that way until we'd
stopped.
"I turned off that runway about as carefully as if I'd
got a rattlesnake asleep in my lap. I crawled along the
taxiways cursing every lousy contractor who'd ever left a
concrete ripple in any of them, and I could hear Yvonne
and another attendant in the front jump seats giggling at
each other, even with the cockpit door closed. Oh yeah,
and the guy in the ramp tower is telling me to get the
lead out. So screw him as well. Then I saw our ramp agent
up ahead of us, waving his flashlight to bring us
alongside the concourse. I crept towards him about as
slowly as a 727 has ever travelled anywhere, anytime, and
the agent was waving his arms like a referee giving a
touch down signal and I knew he was wondering if this
plane is ever going to get parked up. Well, screw him
too. When I finally parked the 727 alongside the
concourse I would have made a snail eating a cabbage leaf
look like a hit and run driver. I'd aged about a year in
one landing, I'd sweated off pounds in stress but I
thought there was a good chance those toilet seats might
still be up.
"So, I went back and those goddamn nuns were still there
and grinning at me-- I thought I was going to have to
call in a security squad to drag them off the plane.
Whatever, not one of them moved an inch as that bitch
Yvonne opened the john doors and showed me the seats,
smiling all over her face. I nearly fainted -- each one,
all four of them, had been secured up with strips of
scotch tape. 'We were going to do it anyway,' she said to
me, "We never thought you could make a soft landing here
and we just wanted to make you sweat for it a little. But
as soon as I bought the tape dispenser out of the galley
some of the good sisters grabbed it. They've been
scuttling in and out of the toilet spaces taping the
seats up right up until we began the descent... can you
believe that?"
"I could hardly believe a word of it, Gloria. I could
have slam dunked that goddamned 727 onto the tarmac and
the bloody toilet seats would still have stayed up. And
then this chief nun, or whatever, the eldest one anyway,
she gets the others moving out like she's a Marine
Gunnery Sergeant giving orders and as she leaves she
turns around and smiles at me and says: "Captain, I never
really knew what they meant by flying the friendly skies
until today. Thank you for a very interesting trip...
"Sure, what's the question, honey...?
"What's a dead dog switch? I thought you'd never ask.
It's the switch that turns on the heaters in the cargo
compartment. It costs a lot of money to run them but if
you need to -- well, it's real bad news if some passenger
comes to collect fido or pussy and all you've got for
them is a furry popsicle. Public relationswise, you'd be
better off crashing the plane and burning the passengers
than freezing a hold full of pets to death. Which brings
us to the question of switches in general. See, I turn
this switch here and those metal shutters at the windows
roll down. This switch here, that turns on some subdued
lighting and gets the romantic music whispering right
along. And this switch here, that locks the door and
illuminates the 'bar closed' sign -- now we can't be
disturbed... "
"Why? Well, I figure I've got already got all the
customers I need in here already -- any more would be a
crowd...
"The police? Sure, you can call the cops, except they'll
be on their siesta time right now. And I hear they've
already used up their government gas allowance for this
month and it's a long way to walk out here from the town.
So why not leave then in peace and let me ply you with
free booze in return for some cheap thrills? I mean, come
on, counselor, a gal with a body like yours must have
dreamed at some time or another of doing a striptease in
a tropical bar in front a appreciative audience -- and, I
give you my word, I'd certainly appreciate it. After all,
who lets a few pieces of material get in the way of a
great friendship?
"OK, so think about it. Here, have another drink while
you're deciding. And no, the name is Four Johns Johnson,
not four flusher Johnson. I mean, this is a fair deal,
right? I entertain you with a story, you entertain me
with anything that naturally comes to hand. Like Yvonne
and the other girls did... "
"Sure, I'd be happy to tell you, but if only I could be
encouraged by that top button coming undone... even from
here I can some serious cleavage... Yes, honey, that
button right there... now, isn't that cooler... no,
hotter? You'd better keep going then....
"Yeah, they came to my hotel room almost as soon as they
could after we'd checked in. I'd had a shower, put on a
robe and I was looking at the TV without any idea of what
I was actually seeing while I was trying to work out how
serious Yvonne and the girls had been. Maybe it was all a
big joke after all. Then there was a knock on the door
and there they were, walking into my room, all four of
them. 'I thought you might prefer it if we were still had
our uniforms on,' Yvonne said. 'Is that all right? And
did you want us all together, or did you want to make
different times like a dentist? Shall I pour out some
drinks, captain, while you're thinking about it?'
"So imagine me standing there and watching these girls
making themselves drinks and they've got their company
uniforms on with the pleated skirts and stiff white
shirts and dark stockings and they're smiling at me and
I'm feeling like I've just stepped out into the passenger
cabin with nothing but a short robe on and the plane is
still full of nuns. Incidentally, Gloria, the view with
that top button undone is great... how about that next
one as well... and I'll just turn on the overhead fan so
the breeze can go all the way down there... Where was
I?... Oh sure..."
"Then Yvonne started introducing the others to me. The
blonde was Anne, and she had a turned up nose and real
bright blue eyes and all that short fair hair teased out
in different directions, and she was real cute. Then
there was Caddie and she was a short plump little
homebody with glasses -- a real PTA type. I couldn't
believe she was a volunteer to go down on some strange
guy. She seemed more likely to want to knit me a
cardigan. Funny thing was though, somebody had given my
John Thomas a friendly squeeze in that crush in the
galley and Caddie had been the closest to him at the
time. But it was hard to tell which of them had made the
low pass... And then last and certainly not least was
Jill. Jill was black, she wearing pearl earstuds and a
pearl necklace, she was laughing a lot and she had a pair
of tits underneath her jacket -- well, how the hell she
got her life jacket on over them for the ditching drills
at the training pool, I don't know. Maybe the safety
instructor just figured she could float forever with what
nature had already given her...
"My God, Gloria that's a push up bra you've got there and
it has to be a D, it has to be. Lady, it's been a long
time since I've seen a pair of cups so overflowing with
the milk of human kindness -- well, OK, as near to human
as a lawyer can be. Say, is that a front hook I see
before me? You wouldn't care to lean forward just a
little here, would you? Just to see if I've still got the
knack of undoing those things.
"Did I have any better lines at the hotel? To be honest,
honey, it wasn't my greatest moment as a lover. If you'd
said I was a bit frightened of that line up it wouldn't
have been a total lie. It was Yvonne who got things
started. She told me to go into the bedroom and lie down
-- without the robe. So I did and I was lying there stark
naked as the four women come in and stood around me. Then
Jill, the black lady, she began undoing the buttons down
the front of her shirt and then the others all started
doing the same thing as well, even homebody Caddie...
"No, that's it, not another word unless you lean forward
and let me try my luck on that hook... come on, honey --
have a holiday to remember. Come on, come to daddy... got
it, first try. Oh God, they're so beautiful... here we go
with a tip for the bar staff... one here... and one
here... hmmmm... Gloria, how about pouring yourself
another drink, seeing as I have my hands full right
now... The story...? Sure, sure.
"So, there was my entire cabin crew, undoing the tops of
their skirts and taking off those crisp white shirts, and
I'm looking down the barrels of four bras. Jill had one
with big white cups, a real heavy duty job, which I
guessed she needed, and the blonde had a lemon colored C
outfit with plenty of cleavage showing. Yvonne was
showing off a real sexy push up number, a red one and I
suddenly wondered if she had on those red panties I'd
seen at Tucson and that was enough to start getting me
stiff. Caddie started giggling first, I remember that.
She was just wearing an ordinary every day white bra but
she was as plump up front as she was everywhere else and
they had to be CC... I said something like: You gals
really are grateful to me, then?' And they grinned at me
and Yvonne said I'd find out how grateful they were for
still having their jobs...
"Hey, Gloria, if you were to stand up on the bar rail, I
could plant a little kiss right on these two hot little
nipples of yours ... that's it, higher, higher -- good
enough... hold it there and brrr... hey, what a taste ...
"Yeah, well, Yvonne picked up her purse and opened it.
She said their name tags were inside and I was to take
them out and that was going to be the pecking order --
yeah, that was what she said. The first girl I drew, that
was the first one to start with me and every time I
clicked my fingers, that meant changeover time. I could
have anything I wanted, but a fuck was an optional extra.
I only got one of those if the lady agreed to it. But
that was the challenge, to see if I could get any of them
so turned on they'd fuck with me with all the others
watching the action. So, I put my hand in the purse and
got out a name tag and it was Jill's that came out first,
then Caddie's, then Yvonne's and then Anne's. And I'm
like still trying to believe this was happening and then
Jill hitched up her skirt and knelt down on the end of
the bed and snapped her bra straps. 'With or without?'
she asked me and I said "Without' like my throat was full
of concrete, and Yvonne got in back of Jill and undid her
bra and Jill slid it off and...God!
"You know, what, Gloria, I've always had this urge,
whenever I've seen a girl in one of flight uniforms, to
rub my fingers around the backs of their knees, just
below the hem of the skirt. And the strange thing was,
even with that fantastic pair of titties right there, I
wanted to do that to Jill. So I had her kneel down across
her chest with her back to me and I rubbed her at the
back of her knees while she gave me a gentle hand job.
Then I reached up and grabbed her boobs and they were so
big I felt I had a pair of bolsters in my hands. Maybe
they were too big, not like yours here...
"Put you down, honey? Sure -- just unfasten the top of
your shorts and push them down below the top of the bar.
I want to see if you're a natural blonde. Of course I'll
let you sit down again afterwards, as long as you're
naked down to your knees... OK, take as long as you like
to make up your mind and I'll just give you a little bite
here... yeah... and another one here... just while I tell
the story...
"So, then I clicked my fingers because I still didn't
think that Caddie would even let me touch her and I
wanted to find out what would happen. And the next thing
I knew she was lying on the bed on her stomach with her
hand around my shaft and licking up and down it. What was
more, she was fluttering her eyelids at me through those
glasses like a houri in a harem and I suddenly realized
that if there's one girl in this crowd who seems willing
to have her pussy pounded in front of one and all, it's
little homemaker Caddie... so I told her to stand up and
get her panties off because I'm going to sixty nine her
next time. Then I had Anne sit on my chest and facing me
as she took her bra off while I massaged the backs of her
knees. I managed to get my hands up underneath her tight
skirt as far as that swell ass while she was holding her
nipples out for me to suck. And there was Yvonne standing
there watching all this and I'm thinking it's taken about
five minutes and I haven't even touched her yet and
already the scene is as wild as some kind of a Roman
orgy... it was true, it was totally true, these woman had
me marked down as somebody they all owed a real big favor
to...
"Hey, if I stand to the side here, Gloria, you can watch
yourself in the bar mirror as you pull down your shorts.
Yeah, that's it, shorts first and then your panties
afterwards. Pretend you're being auditioned as a
stripper... yeah, that's right, you're going to be a
stripper and now you're pushing the waistband of those
shorts all the way down your legs... that's pretty good.
You've never been a stripper... or maybe a playboy bunny,
or something like that...? Yeah, you've got the talent to
be a cockteaser. Like Yvonne...
"No, she didn't tease me that time. I got her to take off
her skirt and she was wearing those crotchless cami-
knickers and I suggested she kneel down by my side. That
way I could hold her hair with one hand and make sure she
swallowed everything she could while I got my fingers
into her cunt. And Anne, cute little blonde Anne, she
produced a huge vibrator out of her purse and began
running it around Yvonne's nipples and then along her
pussy when I took my hand away... And there was nose-in-
the-air stockbroker Yvonne writhing around with her pink
ass cheeks high up in the air instead of her nose and
going down on me like a tigress killing a deer... then
Caddie put a rubber on me and rolled it down with her
mouth, her and Jill taking turn and turn about with
Yvonne. If God wants me to spend eternity like that it'll
be the next best thing to flying ...
"OK, Gloria, now those cute little white panties. All the
way down until you can see your cunt hairs in the
mirror... no need to be shy, all I have to do is to
squeeze just a little bit harder and you'll want to do
it... good girl. Just think, of all the bars in all the
world you're going to get fucked in mine..."
"Which of the stews did I fuck first..? I haven't said
yet that I fucked any of them. But I did. I had them all
kneel down in a row on the bed while I went up and down
the line snapping my fingers. Every time I snapped them
the next girl on the list had to get her ass way up while
I tongued her, gave her the length of the vibrator, and
then followed through with a few strokes of my cock to
keep her steamed up. God, it was hard work but it was
fun. I couldn't resist having Jill first though, not when
I'd finally got myself comfortably fitted in behind her.
I'd managed to get her positioned in front of a mirror so
I could see those huge brown tits wobbling more and more
the harder I fucked her, and I got completely fascinated
with watching them, seeing if there was any way I could
get them swinging in counter rotating circles. I couldn't
though, so I got the other girls to grab hold of them and
try it but they kept giggling and fooling around. Anne
wouldn't do it though, and I was kind of surprised
because I'd marked her down as the hottest one of the
bunch despite appearances. But then she broke the rules
by kneeling down behind me and licking my balls even
though I was still busy with Jill. Still, she was the
next on the list anyway...
"Hey, you're a cheat, Gloria. Some of your hair is dyed
and I don't think it's this patch down her. Let's see if
any comes off on my fingers... no, I think this is the
natural stuff. Talking of cheating, where's your
partner... yeah? And how long have you been on the island
on your own? Only one day... then I hope you'll recommend
us to your travel agent as an exciting destination...
that's right, put your hands on my shoulders as I have a
mouthful of tit here... and here. Standing on tiptoe on
the bar rail is uncomfortable? No problem, lean forward,
all the way... that's right, with those lovely tits
hanging down on my side of the bar. Jees, Gloria, do you
look good in that position -- you've really been called
to the bar now. So, if I just unzip my pants and get
close to you like this, you can open your mouth and make
an opening address, right... Yeah, right. And don't
forget, the door switch is here at my hand. If I move it
the doors will open and I suppose one or two of the usual
guys will come wandering in. If they find you like this,
ass up and briefs down, there might be a queue forming to
take advantage of your services, pro bono and certainly
pro bone. That's the way, Gloria, you're trying very
well. Just keep sucking and pretend it's a ripe mango.
Old, maybe, but still ripe.
"You know how I motivated myself after I'd finished with
Jill? I got a heavy steel ruler out of my flight bag and
gave it to her, then I had the other girls lean over the
back of a couch while Jill gave them some slaps on their
rumps with the ruler. Then I'd go down the line and give
each of them a suck of my cock while Jill partnered me on
the other side of the couch with the vibrator. Hell, I
never expected the batteries to last as long as they
did... it would have made a great TV ad for Duracell...
God, Gloria, that's great. Now open your mouth wider and
move it faster.
"In case you're wondering, yes, I screwed all four of
them. Yvonne was great but Caddie made the most noise and
I'd have to say that Anne had the tightest cunt. As for
Jill, I've never seen a rack that swung quite as free and
wide... The girls made me book off sick at 0200 that
morning. They said I wouldn't be in a fit state to fly
come dawn and they were surely right about that... good
luck, ladies, and thanks for the memories.... ahh... God,
Gloria, this is it... I'm coming, coming... happy
landings, kid...
THE END
(Like intelligent, sexy stories -- especially fully
illustrated ones? Visit www.f-e-mail.com sometime and
browse around)
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 24