My lady friend and I had been talking about the Mile High Club for months. I, a private pilot for over 15 years, was left to work out the details. On the appointed evening, the weather was perfect. Calm air, not a cloud in the sky, and early evening with little other air traffic in the area. My lady met me at the airport wearing a dress with nothing underneath. After the pre-flight inspection of the aircraft, we rehearsed in-cockpit the movements we would perform to ensure we had room and what to do if something went wrong. We were determined to have fun, but safely. Shortly after a sunset takeoff we were outbound on a course of 090 to ensure proper VFR altitude to meet the requirements. Air Traffic Control handed us off, and we climbed to 5,500 feet. I set the autopilot and assured myself that it would hold level cruise. Then we kissed, and began fondling each other. She was already wet from the excitement. She took off the dress, turned around in her seat (no easy feat in a Cessna 172!), while I pushed my seat back and pulled down my pants. She proceeded to give me one of the best blowjobs she has ever given me, then while I slid to more of the midline of the aircraft (got to maintain weight and balance), she climbed on top of me. We performed this “maneuver” until she came twice and I completed. We cleaned up and got the cockpit back to order. The sky had gone completely black, and I was not exactly sure of our location (I wasn’t exactly concentrating on navigation). I told Approach Control we were approaching the airport, and they told me that I was 20 miles from where I said I was. Oh well. We went to dinner and after a toast, I presented my lady with her MHC wings. We did not stop laughing all night.