BECOMING A PRIVATE AIRLINE STEWARDESS – PT 1 – THE PITCH

I had always had a romantic notion of what it was like to be an airline stewardess (or “flight attendant”), and a couple of years after graduating from high school, I applied and was accepted to become a stewardess for an international airline, flying mostly national routes and regional puddle-jumpers. It was OK, but it had nowhere near the panache I had imagined it would before I applied. After about 4 years, as I was approaching my 29th birthday, I was growing a little restless with the status quo. As the flight I was working that day prepared to land in Seattle, I found myself wondering if there was another adventure out there for me somewhere.

The crew had a layover scheduled, so as we started walking toward the pick-up spot for the hotel shuttle, I hung back and waited for the pilot, Alan, to leave the cockpit. As he joined me, we changed course and headed to the taxi stand together. Since I started working with Alan about three years ago, we’ve always paired up during our layovers, unless one of us had other arrangements, or unless Alan’s wife was flying with us.

On that particular day we were both flying solo, so we grabbed a taxi together and headed to the layover hotel that had been arranged for by the airline. Almost as soon as the taxi pulled away from the curb, Alan had unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It was a great dick – about 7.5” long, with a nice sized bulbous head – and I loved stroking it, so….as usual….I gave him a nice “warm-up” handjob in the taxi on our way to the hotel. Alan was sitting directly behind the taxi driver, so he couldn’t really see anything, but I’m sure my arm motion and wry smile was leaving no doubt as to what we were up to in his back seat. Alan didn’t always cum during these warm up handjobs, but on that day he was clearly headed toward an eruption, so I leaned over and covered the tip of his shaft with my mouth as he blasted a load of cum down my throat. I swallowed it all, then stroked out the last drop – licking that away with my tongue – before tucking his softening prick back into his slacks and zipping him up.

When we got to the hotel, Alan and I both headed to his designated room. I had my own room, but if we didn’t have partners with us, we usually just stayed in Alan’s. We both needed a shower, so we quickly tossed off our clothes and climbed into the shower stall together. It was a good sized stall, with tile walls on two sides and clear glass walls on the other two sides. As we stepped under the water streaming from the shower head, I grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up Alan’s dangling shaft, which was already semi-hard again, even after getting a handjob in the taxi.

Alan loved fondling my tits – they were natural 36E cups, with large areolas and ¼” nipples that seemed to be perpetually stiff. As we began our shower, I had Alan’s shaft in my hand….stroking the length of it with soapy fingers, evoking low moans from Alan in response….and he had both of my boobs in his hands….lifting and squeezing them while he used his thumbs to flick each nipple, evoking my own low moans in response.

By now my pussy was dripping in anticipation, and Alan’s prick was standing fully erect in my hand.