Flying the “redeye” by pickticket69

Flying the “redeye” by pickticket69

Discover the thrilling adventures of "Flying the Redeye" by pickticket69. This captivating adult sex story explores passion, intrigue, and late-night escapades that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Dive into a world of desire and unexpected connections. Read now for an unforgettable experience!<br/>

“Welcome to Boston. The current time is approx. 7:00am, and the temperature is a cool 45 degrees. We will be taxiing a few more minutes, so please stay seated until the Captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign. Have a nice day in Boston.” came over the airplane speakers.

As I was waiting for my bag to arrive, Ylena secretly blew me a kiss from across the carousel, mouthing thank you as her boyfriend was pulling her bag off the line.

I winked at her and couldn’t help reminiscing about what happened on my “Redeye” flight….

I arrived at PDX for my late-night flight to Boston the customary “two” hours before the flight departed. The airport was empty at 8:00pm on a Tuesday night in July. After passing through security, I headed for my gate. I arrived at the gate with enough time for a couple cold brews.

It’s a crime to charge $8.00 for a pint of beer. I was halfway finished with my beer, alternating between watching planes take off and people watching when I heard, “I will have a Cape Cod please.” I turned my head to follow the voice and took a double take. There was a gorgeous brunette sitting a couple seats down from me. She caught my gaze, looked at me and smiled. I turned my attention back to the runway where a 747 was landing. I finished my pint and asked the “beer” tender for another. This time I turned to catch her starring at me. I finally spoke, “Hi!”

She responded in kind. I took a couple of drinks before speaking again. “Are you on the red-eye to Boston?”

After I said that, I thought to myself. ‘Idiot’, of course she’s on the red-eye why else would she be sitting here.

“Yes,” she replied. “I hate these overnight flights. They screw up my sleep pattern,” she continued.

I took another swig, and said “Yeah, I here ya. It’s so damned hard to sleep on planes.”

She finished her drink and ordered another. After a beer and ½ duty called and I went to use the restroom. I was feeling a little buzzed from the alcohol and thought if maybe this will be the flight where I join the exclusive “Mile High Club”. I often fantasized about sex on an airplane. Part of the excitement is the thrill associated with the possibility of getting caught. I finished relieving my bladder and headed back to the bar. I still had 45 minutes until boarding.

After hoisting myself back on the bar stool, my bar mate asked me where the restrooms were. I responded and used my index finger to point the way.

I finished my pint. The “beer” tender asked if I wanted another. I looked at my watch again and determined I had time for one more.

My bar-mate returned. Her face looked a little flushed. Apparently, the vodka was taking affect. She finished her second drink and turned to ask me if she had time for another. I glanced at my watch again and said, “We have about 30 minutes before boarding. I think you have enough time.”

She said, “Great!!” She then asked the bartender for one more.

“I’m Brian,” putting my hand out for a shake.

She moved her hand towards mine and said, “I’m Ylena.”

“Elena?” I ask, not sure of whether that was right or wrong.

“Ylena with ‘Y’,” she repeated.

“That’s a beautiful name,” I state.

She responded, “I will let my mother know. She really loves my name.”

“Flight 1512 to Boston will begin boarding in 15 minutes,” came over the airport speaker system.

I had about ½ of beer left and Ylena had only taken a couple of sips from her freshly poured drink.

“I already have quite a buzz going from the previous two drinks,” Ylena offered. “It looks like I’m going to have to slam this one,” she continued.

I chuckled a bit and responded jokingly, “Don’t worry. I will carry you to the plane if you can’t walk.”

“Don’t gets your hopes up, I think I can walk just fine,” she said with a chuckle of her own.

I finished my beer, paid my outrageous tab, letting the “beer” tender know my feelings about the highway robbery of $8.00 per beer. “I better use the bathroom one more time before boarding,” I say to Ylena. “It will be a while before they let us get up and use the bathroom.”

“Good idea! I better do the same,” Ylena commented. “I’ll see you on the plane.”

Letting my lizard drain, I started imagining (hoping) this would be the time my “mile high club” fantasy comes true. When I take “Redeye” flights, I always try to get a seat at the back of the plane. One reason is hoping someday I will get to live my fantasy, and the other if the flights not full, I usually get a whole row to myself.

“Flight 1512 with non-stop service to Boston is now ready for boarding. Please have your boarding pass out and available to the gate attendant,” came over the boarding area. I got in line, and was desperately looking for Ylena. I didn’t see her as the line got smaller and it was almost my turn to board. My mind was convincing me she had way too much to drink and was puking or passed out in the restroom. Finally, it was my time to board and still no Ylena. I immediately thought another trip without joining the “Mile High Club”.

I found my seat and my suspicions were right. No one else was in the row; I had it all to myself. “Damn!! Where’s Ylena?”

The last few passengers were coming aboard, and the flight attendant announced that everyone was on board and the door was being closed.

‘SHIT’ I thought. She must have gotten really sick. “Everyone must be seated before we can leave the gate area,” was announced. I fastened my seat belt and was reading the in-flight magazine when I heard, “I bet you thought I was sick.”

I turned to my left and Ylena was walking by my row. She stopped a few rows up, looked back at me and smiled. I was relieved she was okay. I was also euphoric that my fantasy still might come to fruition.

Take off was normal, and after we reached cruising altitude, the captain announced he was turning off the seat belt sign and we were free to move about the cabin. I immediately unbuckled mine and headed toward Ylena. When I reached her, she must have known I was going to come up. She had a big smile on her face, and she was chuckling.

“When did you board the plane,” I boldly asked.

“I have an MVP card and boarded with First Class,” she retorted.

‘I looked for you when I was in line. When I didn’t see you, I thought you must have gotten sick,” I told her in a concerned tone. “When I didn’t see you board, I thought you passed out.”

“Thank you for being concerned about me,” she responded in a smartass tone. “I’m a big girl and can handle my alcohol just fine.”

“Great,” I said. “Why don’t you come back to my row? No one else is sitting in it and I will buy you another drink.”

She looked at me inquisitively, deciding whether she should or shouldn’t.

“Come on, it’s a long flight,” I say. “Let’s test whether or not you can handle your alcohol.”

She unbuckled her seat belt, got out of her seat and followed me back to my row. I sat in the aisle and she by the window. We chit-chatted a few minutes before the flight attendants made it back to our row with the drink cart.

“May I get you two something to drink?” Stephanie, one of our flight attendants, asked.

“I’ll have Cranberry/Vodka,” Ylena said. That is a Cape Cod, but Ylena figured Stephanie wasn’t a bartender, so she made it easy on her.

“I’ll have red wine,” I said.

Ylena immediately changed her mind. “On second thought, I will have red wine also”, she told Stephanie.

Stephanie handed us our wine and said, “That’s $10.00.” I my Visa card and included an extra $2.00 for her. Of course, she responded that it wasn’t necessary to tip. I told her I understood, but we will want more later.” She said, “No problem. The plane is half full, so just hit the call button when you want another.”

We poured the wine into the plastic cups and clanked them together saying “Cheers.”

We chit-chatted a few more minutes while we sipped our wines. After the glasses were half empty, I knew it was now or never if I wanted to make this fantasy come true.

In my beer and wine induced state of mind, I said to Ylena “Are you a member of the ‘Mile High Club’?”

“What airline has that frequent flyer program,” she asked.

I was dumbfounded. Ylena doesn’t know what the mile high club is, I thought to myself. Interesting!!

“The Mile High Club is not associated with any particular airline,” I say. “You don’t get miles or trips or prizes, and it doesn’t cost anything to join,” I continue coyly.

“Well, what’s special about joining this club,” Ylena asks as she sips another drink of wine.

“Do you two need another glass of wine,” I hear from behind me.

I turned my head, and said, “Yes Stephanie, that would be great.”

Stephanie left, and Ylena repeated her question.

“The Mile High Club”, I start to say when Stephanie returned with our wines. I handed her my Visa card, when she said, “These are on the house. I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.”

We both said thanks, and I commented. “See, it does pay to tip.”

“Ok. Now what about this Mile High Club?”, Ylena questioned again.

I motioned her to lean closer to me. I explained what the club was and what it takes to join. Ylena stayed motionless for a few seconds, and then moved away from me. It was quiet for a few seconds after that.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” I stated. She looked at me; a big smile came over her face. She motioned me to move closer. Much to my surprise, she planted a big, erotic kiss on my lips. Instantly my cock felt the jolt of excitement.

“That sounds very, very naughty,” she said in a low sultry voice. “I’m getting wet thinking about it.”

“I’m not getting wet, but it is having that ‘male’ affect on me,” I retort.

With that she glanced down at my crotch and could see the “tent’ already formed. When I travel at night, I purposely wear button down jeans with no underwear, making easier access if needed. With her eyes fixated on the tent I was forming, she reached out and grabbed a hold of my throbbing member.

“WOW!! You’re ready for some action,” she said.

Fair is fair, so I reciprocated and moved my hand to her crotch. Once she saw me moving my hand, she spread her legs. The second my fingers touched it, she let out an audible moan. She was already wet.