A Mission Of Mercy
I am an anaesthesiologist in Holland. Frequently I am asked to fly on an air ambulance to places all over Europe and the Mediterranean countries, to medically escort seriously injured or sick persons that needs to be repatriated for hospitalization in Holland.
For these air ambulance missions, we use a business jet, that is converted into a flying intensive care unit. A stretcher is built in into the plane, with all necessary medical apparatus and medication neatly organized around it.
For this particular mission, I was assisted by an intensive care nurse named Stephanie, with whom I had been on similar missions before. She is quite good looking, but most of all she radiates sex appeal in a raw, animal-like way.
On this occasion we had to fly from Amsterdam to Casablanca in Morocco to pick up a critically injured person and fly him back to Holland. On the outward flight, we went through the routine of preparing our equipment and making the plane ready to take this critical patient on board. The flight was 3.5 hours in each direction.
I couldn’t help but notice Stephanie’s shapely and tanned legs as she was bending down over the stretcher to inspect the equipment. Wearing quite a short skirt, her position afforded me a generous look at her thighs. I could clearly see the outline of her designer panties pressed against the tight material of the skirt. It gave me quite a hard on.
Seconds later, I had to pass her, through the narrow aisle, and (accidentally ?) rubbed my swollen lump in my pants against her butt. Red-faced I mumbled an apology, but much to my surprise, she did not straighten up to let me pass, but pushed her butt back at me and clearly wiggled it against my swollen member, that was throbbing inside my pants.
I shot a quick look at the door between the flight deck and the cabin and gratefully noted that our two pilots had conveniently closed it. At that time I figured we were somewhere over the South of France and still had about an hour of flight left before we would make our final approach to Casablanca.
I just remained in that position for a few seconds, my crotch pressed tightly against Stephanies hot ass, and by twitching my cock I let her feel, in no uncertain terms, how horny I was. Clearly she didn’t mind at all, judging by the wiggling of her ass and the light moans that escaped her lips as she licked them.
After these few seconds, which seemed to last an hour, I slid my hands up the inside of her thighs, feeling her very wet pussy. Without uttering a word, she lifted the skirt up above her hips and my hands slid her panties down to her ankles. She quickly stepped out of them, turned around to face me, and sat down on the stretcher, opening her legs and pulling my neck down to her. I knelt down in the narrow aisle and went down on her, my face buried in her moist bush.
Minutes later, she stretched out completely on the stretcher. I dropped my pants to my ankles, climbed on top of her and went at her hard and good, missionary style. We finished off in doggie style.
It may not necessarily have been the best sex I had in my lifetime. It was very cramped. There was only about 3 feet of space between the stretcher and the roof of the aircraft. Not a lot of lateral movement was possible either, or we would have fallen off the stretcher. It was very exciting , because any second one of the pilots might have opened the door between the cockpit and the cabin and would have caught us literally with our pants down.
Because of the excitement of “doing it” so unexpectedly and such a weird place, I had the most intense orgasm and so did Stephanie. As I lay on top of her, totally spent , my heart racing, she became all nurse-like and professional again. She helped me to my feet, playfully offering me a whiff of oxygen from the oxygen mask above the stretcher, and proceeded to clean me up. She started with her mouth, then with a little towel. She then dressed me again like I was a little boy, and proceeded to rearrange her own clothing. About 15 minutes after we started our encounter, we were back in our seats. We were two very professional looking medical professionals, flipping through our case charts, never even discussing what had just happened. 45 minutes later we touched down at Casablanca airport and concentrated on the real job at hand.