The flight to Cabo San Lucas was almost entirely empty on a wet wintery Wednesday morning out of Seattle. I had already flown once this morning, from my home of San Francisco to Seattle. Everything was quiet because of COVID-19, and my job as a flight attendant was delightfully easy, if perhaps not quite frequent enough to cover my bills. Still, I was happy to have employment in the middle of a pandemic, when nearly all vacation travel was canceled.
Most flights are dreadfully dull, and nearly every flight I have some man try to chat me up. I had become skilled at the polite deflection, the subtle mention of my husband or boyfriend or girlfriend, that would end such unwanted advances without someone’s feelings and ego getting bruised. Otherwise, I might find myself at the wrong end of a customer complaint simply because I was an attractive woman who didn’t want to fuck every business class asshole. Some days I wished I wasn’t 5’10”, slim, and with gorgeous hair. And damn my mother for giving me perfect breasts. Not big enough that I could be mistaken for a porn star, but substantial enough to get me out a speeding ticket once in a while.
That was one of the advantages of being masked up all the time; my eyes were more than a little powerful. I had full luscious lips, but my eyes did all the work for me. Far more successful evenings had happened in my life with a quick glance at a potential lover than any words I could utter.
And so I was somewhat surprised when this handsome young man wandered into first class. His clothes and age didn’t speak of a buoyant trust fund or some wildly successful startup in the city. But he didn’t seem out of place here, and once settled in his seat, and he seemed to be exactly where he was meant to be. Close to me.
My breath is rarely taken away with someone at work. I see thousands of people each year, and hardly ever am I immediately flushed with sexual attraction. What was it about this man? He didn’t seem to have an ego, and his innocence, or perhaps, his vulnerability, was so compelling.
Still, it took us three hours before he casually mentioned something to me about the approaching mountains of Baja. I was immediately engaged with him and loved his boyish enthusiasm, not to mention his eyes—crystal blue but with small flecks of green.
Technically I was breaking a whole bunch of airline and FAA rules when I discreetly slipped him a note folded up in an airline napkin as he departed the plane. There was a momentary shock from his face when our hands touched, but my eyes explained everything, then his smile told me he understood.
I had only twelve hours before heading back to Seattle, and then again home to San Francisco, but we quickly met at a beautiful resort at Todos Santos. His room was right on the beach, and without much hesitation after entering his room, we kissed like long lost lovers.
The crashing of these huge winter waves, swollen from some far offshore storm, created this perfect background noise to our lovemaking. He kissed my neck, deep into the collarbone, pushing my airline blouse out of the way. I was in my heels, the ones I don’t wear while working, but slip into as soon as we land. Putting me at over 6ft, we were beautifully matched, and I wanted to kiss him forever.
But there was a skillfulness to his movements that spoke of a great lover, and after being starved of touch for many months, and the perpetual disappointment of bad lovers, I was so ready to be fucked properly. I kicked off my shoes, and unzipped my skirt, all the while he continued to kiss me.
I felt his hands explore my body, feeling out all the important places, and I stroked his hard cock through his pants. I wanted him to fuck me hard and quickly, but he was exhibiting incredible patience. Slowly peeling off every item of clothing, I stood before him naked. My whole body was quivering in excitement, and I was so wet.
With a mischievousness in his eyes, he knelt before me and licked my pussy. I lifted a leg onto the edge of the patio wall and felt his tongue in me. I so wanted to cum right then, but like some intuitive master at cunnilingus, he just kept me riding the edge of an orgasm forever. Unable to hold out any longer, I grabbed his beautiful head and pulled his face deep into me. With a few masterful licks of his tongue, I had the best orgasm of my life. My legs collapsed under me, and I was breathless from the intense pleasure.
Swiftly he placed me on the bed and stripped. His body was exquisite. A lifetime of surfing and mountaineering had carved every muscle into perfection. And then his cock. So beautifully hard and erect, the subtle curve of it I could already feel hitting my G-spot over and over.
I pulled him on top of me and tilted my hips to have him fuck me. His movements spoke of a careful and considerate lover, but I just wanted him to fuck me hard. I pulled his face to mine, bit his ear, and whispered:
“Fuck me in two.”
As if I triggered some sort of internal shift in his masculinity, he started to slam into me. With each hard thrust, I felt his cock deep inside my pussy, but more than that, he held me down on the bed with strong hands. I do like being roughly fucked, and he quickly understood what that meant. There has to be a lack of control without being helpless, a feeling of total domination without a loss of respect. Brutality without the violence. Sometimes it’s hard to really describe. But he got it.
I felt my second and third orgasms roll through me, almost indistinguishable from each other, but they were distinct. The last one, I screamed out loud, which is something I don’t usually do. And the sound of me cumming so hard definitely tipped him over the edge.
Still, on top of me, I was digging my hands into his chest, my legs wrapped around his perfect ass. Feeling every inch of his magnificent cock in my tight pussy. I could also feel his foreskin being repeatedly pulled taught against his cock; the head of his penis hitting my G-spot over and over again.
Just as the waves started crashing harder and harder into the beach, I felt him cum inside me. His cock pulsing and throbbing with each final stroke. Breathless and sweaty, we held onto each other for a few minutes until our breathing returned to normal. I felt his still hard cock pull out of me and the last drops of cum trail over my thigh as he fell onto the bed, spent and exhausted.
“Hi, I’m Catherine,” I said.
“Hi, I’m David,” he said.
Smiling at each other, I cupped his balls with my hand and said:
“Do you think we can do that again now?”