MY MOST MEMORABLE FLIGHTS

MY MOST MEMORABLE FLIGHTS

I have been flying ever since I was 12 years old. My first time was when I left Cuba to come to the U.S. and that first flight was for me an unforgettable flight. It wasn’t just the fact that I was on an airplane, nor that I was flying for the first time, for even though I was leaving my family behind, all my worries seem to vanish at the sight of two angels; the two flight attendants that were greeting the passengers as we boarded we two tall, blond, beautiful young women wearing very short miniskirt uniforms wearing smiles on their faces that seemed to cause at least in me complete amnesia. I had no idea what they were saying, (not that I cared) ‘cause they apparently spoke only English and I didn’t, but their voices sounded like angelical notes from a harp. One of them took me by the hand to the very back of the plane and sat me down on one of the seats that were facing, not like the rest of the seats on the plane that all faced forward. As soon as I sat, this “angel” bent forward giving me a generous pick down the cleavage of her uniform. Now, to a twelve year old that was like glancing at heaven and to top it off, she begun to buckle me in and as she did I felt her and barely touch the front of my pants, the zipper area, and immediately I blushed at the thought that she would notice the excitement she had generated inside my pants. Even now, forty five years later I can’t help feeling a reminiscing kind of the excitement I experienced at that particular moment. The rest of the time while the boarding continued I spent it bent over trying to keep and eye on that woman that had captivated me so. But that wasn’t all, once all the passengers were loaded and seated, these two “angels” sat right across from me displaying those perfect legs in those very short miniskirts giving me an ever so unforgettable view of their matching panties. Heaven…

Needless to say those two women overwhelmed my senses for the very short 45 minutes the flight lasted between Varadero and Miami. Every single movement engraved in my memories, every smile, and every gaze. I was the last one to exit the plane and I was in no hurry to deplane at all. When the one flight attendant took me by the hand to lead me off the plane I was hoping she would take me home with her, but as we got to the exit she bent over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and so did the other angel. They looked at each other and said something that must have been funny and looked back at me caressing my hair as they waved bye to me.

I am pretty sure they were very amused by me, so young and starring at them both with what I am sure they had to perceive as complete sexual desire; I know because as I walked away I kept glancing back at them and they were definitely looking at me, talking and smiling. I didn’t care, I just couldn’t help myself; I had to absorb the heavenly sight in front of me and savor it while it lasted. As I deplaned and for the remaining next few days all I could think about was those two “angels” that unbeknown to me had changed my life for ever. Later that day I flew from Miami to Los Angeles to meet my family and so my life in these United States begun.

It was a few years before I flew again and when I did those memories came rushing back. It was an American Airlines nonstop flight (like they used to have) between LAX and MIA.  To my good fortune, there in the seat next to mine was a thirty some year old woman, very good looking, especially to a seventeen year old. Red hair, face, neck and cleavage full of freckles, very large breasts that seemed to want to escape their binds and greet me. She had on a long wide pleaded skirt that covered her down to her boots and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was wearing panties underneath that skirt. She was very friendly and loved my thick accent and still broken English. We got to talking and we had been air born for no more than five minutes and we were making out. Wow, her soft skin felt warm to my touch, and the more I touched the more we got “personal”. Now way back then it was rare to have a crowded plane especially at night and in long flights like the one I was on. We made our way to the back of the plane and unknowingly at the time we became members of the Mile High Club. To claim that we had sex once or twice on that flight would be a gross understatement, me seventeen and her in her thirties: we were both at our sexual peek. Five and a half hour flight with very few interruptions; sex on the seats, on the floor and even in both rear restrooms. A hell of a pleasurable flight to say the least.

I have flown many, many times since and way back in those times when long flights used to be none stop, I had sex a few more times while in the air, securing my Mile High membership; mostly it happened with flight attendants. Those were the days, when flight attendants were women, most were very good looking, friendly and willing to please. Those days are gone for good.

Tonight December twenty first two thousand twelve was supposed to be the end of the world according to the Mayan calendar. Well the world hasn’t ended and I find myself sitting in a plane west bound, this is the second leg of my trip; started out in West Palm Beach, Florida to Charlotte, North Carolina and on to Seattle, Washington. In all the flying I do, tonight for the first time in at least ten years I have a young beautiful woman sitting next to me. We are in the very last seat of the plane and this is a full flight. Needless to say I am still a horn dog and the fact that there is at least a thirty year difference between us does not bother me in the least bit. I had noticed her before we begun to board for she is exceptionally beautiful. She is very tall, maybe 5’ 11” wearing a checkered shirt that looks tight around the bosom area, she has a leather type jacket over her shoulders, very tight blue jeans that reveal her every curve and curves she has for even though she is thin, she has thick thighs and an ass that won’t quit. She has a hat on that covers part of her long dirty blond hair and she is wearing boots, cowboy boots if I’m not mistaken; hard to look down past her ass. Very pretty face, brown eyes with thick inviting lips and a smile that seems to come easily to her face. I was in group two so I was one of the first to board and I was sitting there watching all the rest of the passengers fumble with their belongings trying to stick every thing in the overhead compartments when I saw her heading to the back of the plane and as many times before when I see a good looking woman head my way I begin to wish: “please sit next to me and not that fat ugly guy behind you” for there is always some fat guy. To my amazement she came and sat next to me and in a flash I pictured us making out with the passion that has all but been forgotten. Suddenly my senses were over ran with the worse smell I had ever detected on any human, especially on a woman. Oh my God! What a stink!!! She smells like sweaty horses mixed with a wet dog and skunk all at the same time… Just my luck, so many years wishing and wanting, longing for someone desirable to seat next to me and this abomination to the senses assaults me without compassion. Luckily the third seat, the isle seat never got filled, I guess God took pity on me because it was the only seat not taken in the whole plane. She moved over thank God. There is no where to escape to so I guess I will have to endure… Wait, Oh she just reached into her jeans I guess she thinks I am busy writing and don’t see her, but I can plainly see her out of the corner of my eye. Oh Jesus Christ she just pulled her hand out of her pant and smelled her fingers and jerked her head back in apparent disgust at her own smell, shit, now I smell it too! I feel like throwing up; how can such a beautiful desirable woman be such a pig? I don’t know if I will make it all the way to Seattle without throwing up or passing out, but I will say this: This goes down as one of my most memorable flights/experiences only not in a good way. I suppose this is Gods way of laughing at me for being such a pretentious fool.

Jorge