Just Call Me Lucky

Deirdre is a very hot redhead that I’ve been dating for the past four years. She’s smart, funny, and sassy. She’s also got an excellent sense of adventure, as she proved beyond a doubt about three months into our relationship.
We were on our way from our home city of Seattle down to LA for a long weekend with friends who had recently moved down there. They were the friends who had introduced us, so we were both looking forward to the trip.
We boarded the plane, right on time, and settled into our first class seats, row one, the bulkhead. Got a drink from the flight attendant, opened our magazines and waited for take-off. A few minutes later, up into the air. Smooth sailing. We both like flying, do it often for our jobs, and still get a rush out of taking off. If I’d known what this flight had in store, I’d have been even more excited.
We were behind the first-class galley, so when the flight attendant was working in there she could not see over to us. As I stretched my legs out into the extra legroom of the bulkhead, I stretched, yawned, and lazily smiled over to D. She gave me a super-sexy smile back, and that’s when I started thinking.
She must have already had the idea, because she opened up her magazine and made as if to show me an article or picture. I followed her neatly-manicured fingernail down the page, and saw she had carefully written Mile High? with a winking smiley-face next to it. I was hard before I finished reading.
For starters, I pulled out two blankets from the overhead bin. Fortunately I was wearing jeans. If I’d been wearing loose slacks or khakis it would have been very obvious how aroused I was. I put the blankets over our legs up to our waists, and D reached a hand over and began massaging my bulge. I settled my hand on her thigh and slipped a finger down the V of her lap, rubbing her through her shorts.
We were hot hot hot in no time, breathing rather hard but trying not to be too obvious. As the flight attendant took our breakfast order we tried to look respectable. As soon as she passed our row to take orders from the other first class travelers, we bolted for the restroom. Since no one was paying any attention, we just scampered in, shut and bolted the door behind us.
I smiled and congratulated D on her quick thinking. She informed me that it wasn’t really quick thinking. Her girlfriend had recommended it weeks ago when we first hatched our plan to visit them in LA. D said she’d been fantasizing about this encounter ever since!
She sat down on the toilet seat, looked up at me, licked her red lips, and shot out her hands toward my belt. In no time she had my buckle undone, pants unsnapped and unzipped, and down around my ankles. With her sitting and me standing she was at the perfect height. She locked her lips, swirled her tongue around to work up some warm saliva, and got to work. Head bobbing up and down, her auburn hair spread across her shoulders and rustling side to side. What a view. It was one of those bathrooms with the mirror to the side, so not only could I watch the back of her head bob up and down, but I could see in the mirror as her lips and teeth worked up and down, opening, closing, licking, nibbling sucking. I managed to keep it together for a few minutes, but the visual and physical stimulation were exquisite, and before long I had finished.
I’m not a college kid anymore, so I thought my days of being ready to go again immediately were over. Must have been the setting, maybe the rush of the drink, but I barely got soft. She put up a hand and rubbed me until I was turgid once again. As soon as I was she stood up and turned around, dropped her shorts and panties, and placed her hands on the back wall of the lav. I put one hand between her legs but it was soon apparent that she needed no warming up.
I slid into her and pounded for all I was worth. We had to watch the noise because we didn’t want to draw too much attention but soon I was cumming again, muffling my pleasure by keeping my mouth closed and screaming into my forearm. Wow.
D still hadn’t cum yet, but she suggested that she’d have an easier time of it if she weren’t standing up over a toilet. She was plenty hot, but we took a moment to compose ourselves, towel off, and get clothes back on. We emerged from the bathroom together. Fortunately no one was waiting in line, and the flight attendant was delivering breakfast trays to our cabin-mates. I figured the FA had to know what was going on when D and I were nowhere to be seen.
So we got to our seats, had our breakfast served, and as soon as the trays were cleared we had another Bloody Mary delivered and pulled up the blanket again. D quietly unsnapped her shorts, lowered the zipper, and reclined her seat. I reclined mine as well, and slipped a hand under the blanket toward her wet and waiting pussy. Because of how she was sitting/reclining, all the activity was hidden not only by the blanket and the tray. There wasn’t much clearance between her thighs and the tray, however, but somehow we managed. I massaged faster as she lightly moaned her enthusiasm. I was confused as she busily fumbled by her side for her napkin from breakfast, but my curiosity was satisfied as she quickly rolled it up and bit down on it to keep from screaming as she came.
We still had about forty-five minutes in the air to settle down, chill out, and have one more drink. Usually it takes me a day or two away from the office to really relax, but we oozed off the plane in LA, feeling great from the sex and the vodka.
We’ve fooled around on airplanes since, and we’re getting married in the fall so we’ll have many more years of doing so, but there’s something about the first time, the unexpectedness of her suggestion, the thrill of the illicit. I’ll never forget how I joined the Mile High Club.
Am I a lucky guy or what?

Name Date Airline Flight # Time
Mr. Jake Mitchell January, 2001 United ?? Morning
Aircraft From To Location Altitude
Not sure Seattle Los Angeles First Class 31000?