The following story is about 90 percent true and happened recently to a friend of mine ("Tom" in the story). With his permission, I'm happy to retell it from the viewpoint of "Victor," with a few minor embellishments. The names and locations have been changed to protect the guilty. Fasten your seat belts!
FLYING FIRST CLASS
"Do I have to go?"
"Yes, Victor, you have to. We always put family first. Sandra doesn't get married every day, you know."
No, just every third year, I thought to myself. Even with all her money, my cousin can't seem to hold onto a man much past the honeymoon. She wasn't even 30 yet and had already set two husbands free -- much to their undying relief, no doubt.
But this was my very imperious mother speaking -- one of the truly "grand dames" of New York City society -- and when Andrea Hilligoss speaks you don't turn your head.
I didn't want to go to any dumb wedding in Seattle. I wanted my parents to go and leave me in New York for the weekend. I was home on break from college and wanted to hang with my friends. I was out to a tight circle of hot, rich boys like me, but my parents didn't know yet that their youngest son was gayer than a flutter of butterflies in heat.
We were a prominent New York family, and all my life I'd had to "keep up appearances" so I wouldn't "tarnish" the family name. It had always been a heavy burden to bear, but I knew it would pay off some day when I would come into my share of the considerable Hilligoss family fortune.
Our chauffeur dropped us off at JFK shortly before 7 p.m. for our 8:30 flight to Seattle. We only flew first class, of course. My father offered to take a single aisle seat so Mom and I could sit together across the aisle from him. He usually liked to do that so he could read without listening my mother's constant chattering. I didn't mind -- I was used to it, being kind of a spoiled mama's boy.
But as soon as we all were seated in Row 1, I regretted giving up that aisle seat to my father. He was already lost in some business journal and Mom was of course bending my ear when I noticed the hottest guy I've ever seen boarding the plane and heading right for 1A, the window seat next to my clueless father. He appeared to be a few years older than I -- late twenties perhaps, to my 22. Very well put together -- both of us actually, I don't mind saying.
Mr. Hottie was standing in the aisle between Dad and me and putting his carry-on luggage and leather jacket in the overhead compartment. He was wearing snug-fitting button-fly original 501 jeans that showed off his ass to perfection and a long-sleeved, V-neck Henley shirt with sleeves pushed up far enough to reveal his masculine forearms. Those threads cost some bucks, I knew -- much like my own expensive wardrobe. I saw no evidence of any underwear when he reached up and displayed some skin when his shirt and jeans separated briefly.
Beltless (I always like that on a guy in jeans), he showed a tan, tight, hairless waist -- the tag on his jeans said 31-32 -- and he appeared to be about six feet tall. His amazing ass was virtually in my face as he stooped over to pick up something he'd dropped. I was practically salivating. Why couldn't I have sat next to him? His beauty would be wasted on my super-straight father. Mother was chatting on about all the high-society events we'd attend in Seattle and probably didn't even notice that all my attention was on the hunk in the jeans. God, he even smelled good!
I settled back in my seat, frustrated to the max. He hadn't seemed to even notice me, and I've been known to turn a few heads in my short life. But he was too handsome to be straight. If he wasn't a GQ model, he should have been. My heart was beating faster than normal, and I was on pins and needles -- aching to be sitting next to this dude instead of between my parents.
If I had been where my father was, I would've already learned the guy's name, hometown, destination, age, and life story by now. I wasn't one to hold back when I wanted to get to know someone -- not a bashful bone in my body. However, there was a bone of a different kind in my underwear from just having this guy standing next to me in the aisle for a brief minute.
I sat there pretending to be listening to my loquacious mother prattle on, but really plotting how I could trade seats with Dad without raising suspicions.
The steward -- a hot little number himself -- came by shortly after take-off with snacks and beverages. We all ordered something, but I noticed that the guy by the window declined and seemed to want to nod off already. Why pay for a first-class ticket and then sleep through the food and drink, I wondered.
Later, after dinner and wine, Mom blessedly stopped talking and propped her head on a pillow next to the window and was out like a light. Dad got up and went to the head, leaving a very inviting open seat next to my dream man, who was still in la-la land. In less than a New York minute I slipped over into it, buckled up, and pretended to fall asleep. When he returned, Dad took the now-empty seat next to my sleeping mother and then drifted off himself. That was too easy, I thought -- but hell, it worked!
Not sleepy myself, I pulled out a magazine and started flipping through it, with one eye on my new seat mate. Dream Man was deep asleep next to me with his legs stretched out in front of him languorously. His soft jeans were stretched tight across his crotch, revealing a sizeable lump that I couldn't take my eyes off of. He must have been dreaming something sexy, because he was soon sporting a very impressive erection. From the looks of it, it was unencumbered by any underwear. Dream Man was going commando, and I was going nuts!
He finally stirred after an hour or so. By now it was after 11 p.m. Eastern time, and we still had three hours to go before we got to Seattle. He woke and looked around the cabin, which was mostly dark. Only my overhead light was on, and I still had my magazine in my lap to conceal my own prominent hard-on. He looked over, expecting to see my father still sitting next to him. I smiled my most winning smile, said hi, and dropped my gaze to the log in his pants.
He noticed where my eyes had gone and suddenly sat up in his seat, squirming to adjust himself. I could see him blushing. This was a real turn-on to have this older hunk embarrassed by his own sexual excitement. I'm sure he didn't expect to fall asleep and wake up with a hot young guy looking down at his clearly defined hard dick. He had to know I was enjoying both it and his self-conscious state.
"I'm Victor," I said, offering my hand to him and squeezing it as seductively as I knew how.
"Tom," he said. "Hey, man...guess I really fell sound asleep, huh? Looks like you got a bit of a show. Sorry about that."
I just laughed. "No problem, dude...I'd just like to know what you were dreaming...must have been good!"
I reached up and shut off my overhead reading light. We were alone together in the dark. I put my magazine in the seat pocket. Signaling to the steward, I asked for a couple of blankets, which he quickly produced. The steward looked at us, and I was sure he looked at our full crotches. I thought saw him wink at me, but it was pretty dark.
I handed Tom one blanket and I started unfolding mine.
"I thought maybe you needed one. Did you see the way the steward looked at us? Does that bother you?"
"No...not really...but I am glad it's you here now instead of your dad."
I leaned over and said, "Yeah, anyone sitting here would notice...how could I not? You're pretty well endowed, dude. I have to admit, I've been watching you as you slept. You were like that for quite a while."
As we covered ourselves with our blankets, overlapping them, my hand brushed against his thigh. I didn't move it away, and he didn't move his leg away. In fact, he edged his leg into my hand, emboldening me even more. My heart was pounding, and I was matching him throb-for-throb in the hard dick department.
"Can you stay like that for long?" I asked him. "You want to go use the restroom...or maybe want some help with that?"
My hand was now resting on top of his jean-covered thigh -- just millimeters from the object of my rampant lust.
"Well, what did you have in mind, man?" he said as I boldly moved my hand to his crotch. I rubbed him through his jeans, exploring and discovering the considerable length and firmness of his thick, cut cock. It felt amazing to do something so unexpected and so public, even though the blankets covered us. But I was a guy who was used to getting what I wanted in life.
"How old are you, kid?" he asked, squirming a little.
"22. You?"
"29 -- and you're driving me crazy."
After a few minutes of this, Tom unbuckled his seat belt and unbuttoned his fly, releasing his powerful bare manhood to my eager direct touch. Never one to turn down an invitation like that, I stroked it slow and easy...feeling it... massaging it... and making him moan softly and close his eyes. He pushed his jeans down past his knees and pulled his shirt up, making it easy for me to feel everything from his nipples to his knees, including his muscular thighs, walnut-size balls, and manly penis. I was in heaven! I'm sure he was, too.
Just then the steward came by again and we both froze. He leaned over both of us and placed another folded up blanket between us and said, "Thought you might need another one, gentlemen."
He smiled, but then turned serious.
"I need to tell you something. I cannot allow two people in a restroom for safety reasons. You cannot let me see you do that because it will cause a scene and you will be embarrassed...do you understand?"
I spoke up quickly that we had no intention of such a thing. He said "Good" and then lifted himself up from between our seats to leave, dropping a small individual-size tube of KY jelly on my blanket, which Tom couldn't help but notice. Uncharacteristically for me, I was too embarrassed and surprised to say anything, but Tom smiled at the steward and said, "Thanks for your help."
After he left we sat still without saying anything for a few minutes. Our hearts were beating fast, and we realized we had hidden nothing from the young, perceptive, and obviously gay steward. Fortunately, my parents were still soundly asleep, and -- since we were in the front row -- no one could see us except the steward.
When I finally looked back over at Tom, he smiled. He whispered, "Go ahead and put that other blanket over us...I think he is the only one who would have any idea."
After I covered us a little better, Tom pulled my hand back to his cock. He was still as hard as could be. With his free right hand, he stroked my face, then pulled me by my shirt until I was close enough for a brief kiss. It was sweet!
I managed to get the KY open and squeezed a glob onto my hand. I stroked him with it, and my own cock came back to life immediately. Moving my slippery hand sensuously along the ridge of his swollen cock head, I slowly lowered it to his enormous balls, massaging and kneading them. His breathing became erratic as his arousal grew. I could tell he was enjoying this as much as I was. Maybe even more, if that was possible.
He whispered, "Do you want to try the restrooms in the back of the plane?"
I shook my head no. The plane was very dark... everyone seemed to be asleep around us. It was now after midnight our time and we still had a couple of hours until we landed in Seattle.
The lube glided my hand in a slow stroking, rhythmic, manual fucking of his studly dick. I wasn't sure how long he could take this overt stimulation of his sexual equipment before he would unload, so I told him to tell me before he did...that I wanted it...and was prepared to dive under the blanket briefly to get it.
It happened even sooner than I had expected.
"Ahhhh god," he exhaled and looked at me. "Now!"
I quickly slipped my head under the blanket, enveloping his cock head and moving down on his shaft as I gripped the base of his dick with my hand. I knew what I was doing...I had had a lot of practice lately on some of my blue-blooded buddies. I took him deep into my throat and skillfully sucked his huge cock without gagging. With a sudden final lurch he exploded into my mouth. It had been a long, slow buildup and he unloaded a good, thick, warm flood of man cream. I never tasted anything better in my life and swallowed it all hungrily.
He tried not to make any noise, but he couldn't help but gasp a little when he came. I hoped my parents weren't awake yet, or there would be some explaining to do when we got to Seattle.
As I reluctantly removed my head from under the blanket, I could see the steward peeking at us from the front galley. He smugly grinned at us, arching his eyebrows. I lay back with my eyes closed. I could sense Tom's chest heaving. He had just had a great orgasm, and I was proud to have been responsible for it. But I was also still very turned on. I imagined the steward was, too.
Tom opened his eyes and looked over at me, silently mouthing the words "Thank you." I leaned into him and we kissed again. The residue of his semen was still on my lips, and he licked it off with his tongue.
I put my head back and fell into silence. My head was still alive and spinning and moving and thinking and imagining and feeling wonderful, realizing what had just happened -- and that my new friend was still mostly naked under the thin blankets.
I signaled for the steward to stand in the aisle between me and my parents -- he knew the score. I threw off the blanket. Opening my pants to mid-thigh, I pulled my shirt up and my underwear down, and began to stroke my uncut cock in earnest while Tom and the steward watched my near-naked display of youthful exuberance. Imagine if they only knew the family jewels they were staring at belonged to the scion of the well-known Hilligoss family!
It did not take long -- I soon erupted into one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had, right there in first class between Tom and the silent but smiling steward.
Suddenly I felt Tom's hand on my balls, working its way up my still hard shaft to my cock head, where he smeared my fresh semen all over it. He brought his wet hand up to his mouth and sucked his fingers, enjoying the taste of my release as I tried to catch my breath.
"You might want to prepare yourselves before I turn on the cabin lights," the steward breathed into my ear. He handed me a wad of tissues. We cleaned ourselves up as well as we could under cover of the blankets and reluctantly pulled our clothes back in place, buckling our seat belts for landing. Now I was more than glad that I had been talked into going to this wedding!
The steward took the blankets from us after a discreet pause and gave us a knowing smile. Tom wrote out his cell number on a slip of paper and stuck it in my shirt pocket as we were landing.
"Call me sometime," he whispered.
Would tomorrow be too soon?
THE END
(Did you like this story? Any reactions I get will be shared with the real "Tom," who is just as curious as I am to know what you thought of his unexpected airborne experience. Write to me at nvtahoeus@yahoo.com. Thanks! Damian)