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The takeoff was uneventful, except for the usual sobbing and screaming.

I can't help it, I always do that when I fly. The Flight Attendant, a slim blonde with a southern accent and a name-tag that said "Susan", tried her best to calm me down.

"Sir, let go of my lay-egg" she said, her voice a sultry moan, as she pried my fingers one-by-one off her smooth, tanned knee. "The other passengers are starting to scream, too," she continued, "especially the old lady sitting next to you. Perhaps if you let go of her head and took her glasses out of your mouth and quit makin' that sound like a cat being boiled, we could all calm down a little."

I realized she probably was right. The way she was looking at me made the hair on my neck stand up. The little vixen was giving me *that* look, a leer of pure lust mixed with the promise of a definite "maybe".

I felt "The Pride" stirring in my pants, awakened from its turtle-tucking-it's-head-back-into-its-shell attitude as he began to remember his duty as the indicator of the state of my body's hydraulic systems. "What's shakin', Pop?" he said.

"Thank God," I said to myself, "now here is something to take my mind off the fact that we're hurtling through space at umpteen miles an hour with only a few dozen dials and a coke-head in a control tower somewhere between our destination and our becoming flaming wreckage spread over the countryside."

Susan looked deep into my eyes, and said; "Sir, would you please quit hollering, leave that poor lady next to you alone and follow me?"

With that, she bent down to unfasten my safety belt, and I caught a whiff of her. It was that primal female smell, that musky odor of roasted almonds, jet fuel and hair spray. As she leaned close, I gazed in rapture up at her lovely face, framed like a halo by a helmet of shellacked blonde hair. As she fumbled with the seat belt, she put her lips close to my ear and in a husky whisper spoke the words I will always remember; "I have exactly what you need."

Immediately, I was overcome with a feeling of intrigue and desire. As she finally got the seatbelt buckle loose from behind my raging hardon, she gave me a wicked grin. I wasted no time in fumbling my wife's bifocals out of my mouth, and I got up and followed that beautiful ass toward the rear of the plane.

Another Flight Attendant was headed up the aisle toward us with a cart loaded with sodas, little bags of roasted almonds, and miniature bottles of very expensive liquor. Susan stopped her and whispered something in her ear. The other Flight attendant giggled like a schoolgirl, looked about furtively, and handed Susan five or six of the little bottles. Then she passed something to her so quickly I couldn't quite make out what it was.

Susan turned to me and nodded in the direction of the bathroom, indicating with her eyes that I was to go in there and wait for her.

Meanwhile, the other attendant began passing drinks out to the passengers. As I neared her, I could see she was really built, with long slender legs that came up and made a perfect ass of themselves, and rather large breasts, especially for a Flight Attendant. (I'd have to say she was at least a 34-b.) Her name-tag read; "Helga".

I squeezed around Helga, and could not help but feel her round buttocks and firm thighs as they rubbed against me. I also couldn't help but feel the hard edge of the cart against my crotch as the cart suddenly, mysteriously rammed me ever so slightly. Luckily, the engorged monster in my pants absorbed most of the shock and once I got off a fellow passenger's lap, I was able to resume my way toward my destiny.

I slipped into the tiny bathroom and locked the door. The "occupied" light went on, and I turned to smile at myself in the mirror. "My God," I said to myself, "but you are a handsome devil!" True, what was left of my hair was standing on end in some places, and I was pale and shaking from the roar of the engines. I also noticed that my eyes had that deer-in-the-headlights look about them, but I knew that my time was at hand, and I would be ready.

ENTER
TEEN STEAM

Chuckling to myself, I began to take off my rayon hawaiian shirt. Then I unbuckled the white belt on my green bermuda shorts and slipped them and my boxer shorts over my wingtip loafers. I looked down at my raging erection, and I rubbed my hand through my hair quickly and thus lubricated, slipped most of my hand over my throbbing cudgel. I looked in the mirror and opened my fist a bit so I could gaze upon its swollen purple head as I prepared for the task soon to be at hand.

Soon there was a gentle knock at the door. I unlocked it and opened it just a tad. Sure enough, it was my Susan, come to welcome me to the "mile-high club" and fulfil my every carnal desire.

She pushed the door open quickly and began to squeeze past me into the small space. She looked down, and her eyes got real wide, and then she made a remark about my being nude and highly aroused.

I was pleased at her surprise, because I knew that she also felt the same longing and deep lust as me. I had seen it in her eyes.

I wrapped my arms around her and drew her near, my lips seeking hers. My eyes were closed as I opened my mouth and let my tongue protrude, making suggestive flicking motions in her direction in a universal gesture I was sure she would understand.

She freed herself from my grasp, said "I'll be right back", and before I knew it she was gone. I look again into the mirror and marvelled at the thickness and heft of my raging four-incher as it throbbed in my hand.

In what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, she returned. Susan flung the door open and quickly brushed past me. As I fell back onto the toilet, I saw that she was leading someone else into the tiny, cramped bathroom. It was Helda!

I tried to rise, to take these two lovely wanton lasses in my arms and bury my face into their nethermost recesses, when Helga said "Oh shit!" and pushed me back down. She immediately leaned over me, her breast brushing against my face as she reached behind me for something.

Suddenly there was a loud whooshing sound and an incredible feeling of suction on my ass. I realized she had flushed the toilet. I was stuck, but that could not stop me from the objects of my every desire, squeezed into the small space together before my naked, steaming eyeballs.

Susan was perched atop the sink, with one foot against the opposite wall and the other on the side of the toilet. I grabbed the leg nearest me and began fondling her calf muscle and licking her knee. Meanwhile, Helga was forced into a semi-crouch between me, Susan and the door. She slapped at my hands as they groped toward her most hidden secrets.

The tiny room became very blurry, and I found myself losing my erection. I gasped "Whu..?" to them as they smiled and poured another drink down my throat. Finally, Susan pulled out a funny looking cigarette, the kind I saw once or twice when I was a boy in the Military Academy. She lit it, and handed it to Helga, who held it to my lips and with a low chortle said "Here, hot stuff, suck on this."

That all happened before the room got very dark and far away. I vaguely remember the sexual adventures that happened next, how Helga and Susan defeated gravity and various laws of both physics and fluid dynamics in their search for ever higher states of arousal, how they toyed with my body in their wanton striving for fulfillment, and how we all orgasmed together in an unidentifiable mass of flesh and fluids.

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