This is a true story. I've published other stories here on nifty (some true, some fiction, some a mix), but this was my first attempt to write an experience down; it just seemed right to put it out there. Hope you enjoy. I love feedback: brad_rent@yahoo.com.
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Many years ago, I was flying in the copilot (right) seat of an Air Force C-130 Lockheed Hercules cargo-type airplane. We had taken off from Florida in the early evening and filed a flight plan for San Jose, California. Air Traffic Control gave us a routing that took us across the U.S. to overhead Las Vegas, then northwest toward the bay area. Someone on the crew had overflown Vegas at night before and remembered the awesome spectacle of the bright city lights in the middle of the jet-black desert if viewed with all the lights off in the cockpit. About a half hour out of Vegas, we turned down all the cockpit lights and started watching as the glow of Las Vegas appeared on the horizon, then gradually brightened beneath us as we flew westward. The windows in the cockpit attracted not only the 5 usual crew members, but a couple extras from the back came forward and pressed their faces against the windows to the sides of the pilots as well. The cockpit was as dark as the night, moonless sky with only the stars and distant city to provide a dim, bluish light.
We had been in Florida for over a week and I'd run out of clean underwear. I was forced on this flight home to fly "commando," something I had done occasionally, but only when I had no other choice, since it usually caused problems with my randy cock. During the long flight, the unusual sensation of a flight suit with no underwear and the vibrations of the powerful engines on my ass and crotch, combined to make me bone up in no time. I got, then lost about 6 hard-ons as we worked our way across the southern U.S. Every time I went to the back to pee, I took an extra tug or two on my dick and had a helluva time getting it back in my flight suit and walking back to the front. Now, with the lights turned down as we approached Vegas and the tight, confining flight suit squeezing my package, I had grown another thickening cock and tightening balls that just would not go down. To ease the discomfort, I "adjusted" myself by aligning the meaty shaft down my right pant-leg. In the dim light, I looked down at the long tube of dick plastered against my right thigh by the thin, green cloth of the flight suit and was glad the light wasn't brighter—anybody would have seen my 7" sausage, complete with large, plum-sized head throbbing against my thigh. Much to my surprise, a dark stain had started to form at the tip from the pre-cum I'd started generating with this last boner. I was horrified someone would see that stain and think I'd pissed my pants. I knew I had to get my handkerchief around the end of my dick to catch the ooze, or it would just spread.
Carefully, I got my handkerchief out of my calf pocket and surreptitiously unzipped the long front zipper of the flight suit using the bottom tab that unzipped up from the crotch (thoughtfully provided by the manufacturer for pissing—and now needed for soaking up pre-cum!). I was having a hell of a time getting the handkerchief down around the tip of my cock and found it was easier to maneuver my unruly, raging cock up against my stomach. Almost by accident, the zipper slipped up a little higher from the pressure of my thick cock pushing from the inside, and out it popped in all its glory, straight up from my crotch toward the dark sky above! I quickly covered it with my hand and handkerchief and looked around to see if I had been discovered. In the dim light, I guess no one had noticed my throbbing dick and fat, shaved balls were protruding from the crotch of my flight suit—it made quite a spectacle but I was glad no one could see. I was able to bend my cock down under the control yoke and, by bending forward a bit, was able to force it between my thighs and with the handkerchief around the tip soaking up pre-cum. I put out quite a bit of juice when I'm very turned on; it was now flowing almost constantly. I figured I could just wait until my erection dissipated, then poke it back inside and zip back up once it softened a little. That was a great plan, but it just didn't work. Not only was this boner never going down, but before long, I could feel I was going to have the orgasm of my life! The combined release from confinement, air blowing on my wet-tipped dick from the air conditioner, vibrations from the seat, pressure from my thighs squeezing the pre-cum out the tip and squishing my balls together between my thighs, and fear of discovery had my cock harder than it'd ever been; before long, I was sure I was going to cum right there in the seat! I had to do something or I'd have a monumental mess to clean up and LOTS of witnesses.
It was then that I had a revelation! If I timed it just right, just as we approached the edge of Las Vegas, all eyes would surely be out the windows and I'd be safe jacking off my load into the handkerchief and could probably get my cock and balls put away before we were past the far edge of town. It was my only chance—I knew this hard-on wasn't going down without cumming first. Sure enough, I looked around and saw that all eyes were out the windows, and although the light level in the cockpit was increasing—most everything was in silhouette—it was still possible to do my business before any of these `light-blind' eyes around me could adjust to the dimness of the cockpit and catch me. At the same time as I was scared shitless of getting caught, I was getting hotter and hotter thinking about wanking a load out in front of all these studs and half wished one or two of them would see me. When I started to feel the cum coursing out of my balls and toward the head of my dick, I slid down in the seat a bit and spread my legs—my rock-hard cock sprang up again, waving in the dark. I started stroking for all I was worth as blast after blast of hot, sticky goo spurted forcefully from the end. It kept building and building with each squirt and I could feel the pressure each ejaculation pushing against the handkerchief in my other hand. After about 6 full shots, I could tell I was nowhere near being finished, and I knew the handkerchief could hold no more jizz. I pulled it away and let 3-4 streams shoot forward and down onto the floor under the rudder pedals. I could see them arcing out and down toward the lower windows—it was so much juice, it looked like I was pissing in spurts. I was mortified that someone would smell my pungent jizz on the floor, but after about my 12th shot, my dick was just dry heaving and I refolded and returned the gooey, heavy handkerchief to catch the last few dribbles. I wrapped the cloth around the tip and managed to get the unruly still-half-hard monster back into my flight suit and zipped up just as people started talking about what a spectacle that the lights had been. I carefully looked around and my eyes only met one other set—the crew chief who had come up from the back was standing opposite me, behind the pilot seat, looking directly into my eyes! He was smiling and shaking his head. He had evidently seen the last part of my performance and couldn't believe his eyes! He never said a word, and after we landed, I avoided him and ran for the crew bus. I never saw him again, as I moved out of the unit two weeks later. I'm sure to this day he tells about seeing an officer jack off on the flight deck with six other dudes within feet of him while flying over Vegas! If he tells that story to you, believe him—it's true!