Gujrati Air Hostess gets Laid on the Airplane

As a frequent jetsetter, I have for long fantasised about this exclusive 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 AI 747 heading out of Washington to Bombay, with a beautiful girl 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 First Class seat. The top deck of the 747 has a small cabin which
airlines use for first class passengers, 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 below.

This flight, luckily, was fairly empty so I was fortunate that through the lottery of seat
allocations, Rekha, as she turned out to be named, took up the aisle seat corresponding to
my window seat and nobody else got seated either between us or in the row on the other
side of the aisle. Rekha was petite, had long black hair, about 25 I guessed, (rightly as it
turned out), and clearly well formed in all the important places. She had remarkably light
brown eyes and was obviously in some form of business, as she had a small patent leather
brief case and when she took her coat off she was smartly dressed in a grey skirt and
white blouse - which showed her firm, well-shaped figure to good effect. I found out later
that she was Gujrati, a junior salesperson for a well-known Indian fabric materials
company, who at short notice had been given a lucky break to substitute for her boss on a
business trip to the USA. Her smart but plain business-woman's dress looked sexy on her.

Her firm breasts thrust out firmly through her white silk blouse as she arched her back to
remove her coat and hand it to the stewardess. Black lacy stockings showed her well
shaped legs to advantage. But she also radiated something sensual which aroused the first
slight stirrings in my crotch. I realised I was feeling quite horney and in the mood for
conquest, but not in my wildest dreams did I guess what delights were to follow! Rekha
looked nervous and fidgeted when she sat down; she very readily started chatting. I
needn't bore you with the contents of our chat, except that I soon persuaded her to move
next to me from her aisle seat, so we could talk easier. She was obviously a bit scared of
flying. It transpired this was only her second long distance flight. Soon after take-off we
hit some unusually bumpy weather; the seat belt signs came on and Rekha wrung her
hands and looked scared. Naturally I put my arm around her shoulders to comfort her and
she leant her soft, perfumed black hair against my shoulder and visibly relaxed.

The 747 flew out of the turbulence but I was glad to find she showed no sign of wanting
me to take my arm away. The meal on a tray came and went and I felt really strong
stirrings in my pants when she snuggled back against me, until recently a complete
stranger. The stewardess brought the drinks trolley and I persuaded Rekha to have a
double gin with a bit of tonic which visibly relaxed her some more. I slipped my hand
down slightly from her hair to stroke her neck and her ear lobes. She snuggled closer and
reminded me of a purring cat. Air Ind**, 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 girl 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 her
hormones; her face looked flushed, her eyes were soft and her pupils large.

My left hand closed over her left breast. She made no effort to discourage me, so I
gradually eased my hand into a position where I could massage the slight mound of her
nipple straining through the material of her blouse and bra. 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. She 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 her left hip so as to push my hand under her thigh. The hem of her skirt had
ridden up enough for me to stroke her silk clad thighs. I was pleased to find she was
wearing stockings and not tights as I reached warm, smooth, bare skin slid my fingers
under the silky ribbon of her suspender strap. She made no effort to discourage my
wandering fingers, so, pulling her closer I covered our laps with an AI blanket, and
boldly stroked her thigh with my other hand, working her skirt hem back as I went.

She sighed and parted her legs slightly when my hand moved along the last smooth
inches of warm scented upper leg and my fingers at last brushed gently against the thin
silky material of her knickers, tightly stretched over her 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 she was not only going to let me reach
my target, but was panting for me as much as I was for her. I inserted my fingers as far as
I could between her legs, and stroked them gently along the warm and noticeably damp
material covering her cleft and up to the summit of her pubic mound. She sighed and
gripped me tight as my finger a deliberately sought and found her tiny clitoris.

I felt her 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 her hand
gently exploring my throbbing cock. In return, my fingers pulled aside the warm silky
gusset of her knickers; and I was able to stroke warm downy hair and feel the soft, warm,
wet and incredibly inviting slippery crevice. I pushed two fingers into her soft hole, and
gently massaged it; I then rolled the flesh of her engorged entrance lips gently and firmly
between my finger and thumb. She clung to me more tightly, eyes closed, and her hips
shuddered; she sighed again and we kissed passionately. But it is one thing to snog, even
as naughtily as this, in an airplane full of people but quite another to remove the garments
necessary to couple us in the way we were 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 backwards and forwards behind us to and from
the galley, we could not easily strip off and start humping without the risk of creating a
sensation 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 it past the tight gusset of her
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 her warm,
slippery slit. But trivial problems like knicker elastic, trouser zips, stretched Y fronts and
unyielding aircraft seats made this ambition hard to realise. Rekha, as always, was way
ahead of me. She gave my cock a gentle squeeze which nearly fired it of, and got up
without a word and strolled seemingly casually towards the loo at the front of the cabin.

I contemplated following her 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 comfortable or aesthetic! Also, there was no doubt that the
passengers watching the movie would have noticed me following a lady into the lav,
which on the top deck of a 747 is alongside the screen for the inflight 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! Rekha re-emerged a few
moments later, quicker than usual when women use a loo, looking inscrutable. She
grabbed a couple of AI blankets, 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 knickers. I reinserted my fingers into her warm and inviting slit. Her hand
was undoing my zip, under the cover of the blanket; I undid my belt to help her.

In a flash (so to speak) my trousers and pants were round my ankles and she was holding
my throbbing prick like the gear level of a sports car - it nearly made me change gear -
into overdrive! I soon discovered she had also removed her bra; her nipples strained
against the thin material of her blouse. I undid her blouse to expose her breasts under the
blanket. I was then able to lay across her and greedily suck the entire aureola of her left
breast into my mouth, with my head under the blanket in delicately scented warm
darkness. I tickled the nipple with the end of my tongue, an action I have found to be
appreciated by my lady friends, and Rekha was no exception! She cradled my head with
one hand like a baby held to her breast and gently stroked away at my straining cock
from its tip along its underside to my balls. She was clearly an accomplished lover.

I moved my head to her lap and attempted to lick her clitoris, but this was almost
impossible in an aircraft seat, even though she parted her legs as widely as the limited
space would let her. I remember the overwhelming scent of excited woman mixed with
the fragrance of her perfume, but could only nuzzle her fur and kiss the smooth inside
skin of her thighs. Rekha unzipped her skirt and wriggled out of it, still under the
blankets. "Please.." she moaned - "please.." - I felt the same way. She turned to face away
from me, and firmly pressed her 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 valley between her thighs; it was a similar position as if she was sitting on my
lap. I could probe her sex with mine. She arched her back and raised her right thigh and
firmly holding the end of my pulsing penis, she guided it into the mouth of her soft hole. I
pushed hard so my cock slid smoothly into her firm warm tunnel. I cupped both her
breasts with my hands and pulled her hard against me to penetrate as deep as possible.
She sighed and shuddered and her hips moved gently and rhythmically.
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; she thrust hard against my equal and opposite series of nudges. My instincts
desperately wanted me to pump every last drop of my spunk into her 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 excruciating 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 traveller. I forced my left hand between her waist and the seat
until my left forefinger could just reach past her bush to the hot spot at the top of her slit
which I correctly guessed would fire her 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 passengers 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 her muscles pulling and rippling at my
straining hunk of meat that I cruelly rammed into her with as much force as I could
manage. She had superb muscular coordination and was able to achieve what few women
I have coupled with can do, to give a feeling of sucking me into her with muscular ripples
of her vaginal walls. 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 her
as I could. As I felt my ejaculation erupting I ruffled her clitoris. She shuddered and
bucked and her internal muscles rippled along me forcing out the last small jerks of
spunk. We subsided 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 stewardess's head rapidly disappear
behind the galley curtain. Had she realised what we were up to? No way of telling, but
judging from the slightly awe-struck look she gave us later, I suspected she 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 Rekha tight in my arms, my deflating cock lying
stickily against her leg. We woke up knickerless and trouseless 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 her willing and inviting slit. 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 juices: we blotted ourselves with
tissues from Rekha's bag. She wriggled back into her skirt, I wriggled back into my
clothes, while she went to the loo to tidy herself up. She 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 - she had a
connecting flight to catch to Indore. A peck on the cheek 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 impossible place? Any