Flying

The distant cloud tops glow pink, orange, and dusky red under the waning moments of a beautiful April sunset. Sunsets are glorious viewed from 35,000 feet. I roll my head back onto the soft, first-class headrest and close my eyes as I replay the meeting in my mind for the 10th time. “Marci, of the seven firms we interviewed, your presentation was, without doubt, the most outstanding,” the Division President smiled when he had spoken. “My colleagues and I are really pleased to tell you that you have just won your firm a three-year, $14 million contract, and they owe it all to you. Congratulations!”

‘Wow, a $14 million contract over three years,’ I smile to myself behind closed eyelids. ‘Not only will that guarantee me a six-figure bonus but this contract makes me a shoe-in to win “top producer” honors. Finally, all the work…the public speaking courses, the aerobics classes four times each week, the late hours talking with customers has paid off!’ I am so exhilarated!

“Excuse me?” intones a low, husky voice over my shoulder. My eyes flash open and I quickly turn to see who had spoken. “Were you speaking to someone in particular?” the smooth bass voice inquires again. Slightly embarrassed, I look up into a chiseled face perfectly matched to that voice, my neck starting to redden. “I thought I heard a rather convincing, ‘Yessssss!’ passing your beautiful lips.”

He breaks into a wide grin of perfect, white teeth, surrounded by full lips and deep creases slanting from the base of his nose to the corners of his mouth. About 40, I’d guess, with thick dark hair accented by a touch of gray at each temple. Is this guy for real? Or is he part of a dream. My mind races analyzing the possibilities. No, I’m not asleep, but did I speak out loud? I must have accidentally let out a hint of the triumph I was savoring. Where did he come from?

I sit up, now fully awake and aware of my senses, senses that seem to be filling with his masculinity. He must be a flight attendant who was offering me something to drink while my eyes were closed. I glance downward, expecting to see a gray, striped airline uniform. Surprised, I find only supple, black Bally loafers topped by perfectly creased navy trousers with crisp pleats fitted snugly around a trim waist. I quiver sensing this man’s taut body so close to me.

“I must have been talking to myself,” I begin slowly. “I am returning from a successful business meeting and was replaying it in my head. I guess I must have been a bit enthusiastic.” “That’s okay,” he grins back. “I like enthusiastic.” His dark brown eyes twinkle. “I actually came up here with a proposition.” My eyebrows arch slightly. “Oh?” Again I can feel my blood pulsing, only this time not in my neck but lower. “And what brings you to first class to propose to me?” Now my eyes twinkle.

Without missing a beat, he replies, “Hi, I’m William Prince, call me Bill” stretching his hand toward me. I grasp it fully and firmly. I want him to know I am a pro, no pushover, who just landed a major contract. “Marci. Marci …..,” I hesitate, wondering whether I should let this stranger know my last name or too much else about me. After all I just met him. “Hi, Marci,” he jumps in sensing my fleeting caution. “I actually came up here to ask you a few questions. You see, this is my airline. At least, it was mine when I started it two years ago. Now the public owns it. I just hold 40%.”

My eyes widen, “You are the Prince?” He laughs, a genuine, warm laugh, without a trace of haughtiness. “I mean the Prince in Prince Air?” I feel like a silly schoolgirl, sputtering like that. Thankfully, Bill didn’t even blink. “Yes, I am. I fly in coach with our customers a lot, walking around surveying passengers, asking how we are doing, are they enjoying the flight, is our route system meeting their needs, that sort of thing……”

As his sexy voice continues I remember he said I had beautiful lips. Now, it is my turn to smile a genuine smile. “…..and I was wondering if you would consider participating in a survey I am conducting. It’ll only take a few minutes and I would be honored to treat you to a glass of wine and a free round trip voucher if you will help me out.” Now, my mind is totally focused on this man who popped into my dreams, into my evening, and into my life. ‘You have pretty nice lips yourself,’ I think to myself. “Sure. I would be happy to help,” I reply as cheerily as I can. “What do I do?”

“Follow me,” he says, stepping back to allow me to stand in the aisle. He leads me toward the rear of the plane where the aft galley has been converted into a small work area. I sway with the moving craft as I glide down the aisle, noticing a certain moistness that comes only when I am aroused. ‘A survey, huh? How hard can it be?’ I think to myself. I suppress a giggle as I realize my own pun. ‘I could really get interested in this guy,’ I muse as I watch his broad shoulders fill the aisle as he proceeds before me.

Reaching the galley-turned-office, he pushes open the bi-fold door, revealing a small, but nicely appointed leather bench seat, affixed side table holding a blown glass lamp, and leather covered ottoman. ‘Good use of a small space,’ I nod approvingly. He follows me inside, motioning me to sit on the bench. When he pulls the door, I notice the incredible quiet. “Special sound insulation and anti-vibration dampeners,” he smiles, anticipating my question about how it could be so much quieter inside this small space than in the plane’s main cabin. “Now, for that glass of wine.”

He touches a wood panel, and as if by magic, it opens to reveal a small bar lined with Baccarat crystal tumblers, sterling silver ice tongs, and a Waterford ice bucket filled with real ice cubes, not the odd, hole-in-the-center cubes used on most airlines. ‘Mmmmmm, this guy has taste,’ I smile, as I watch him smoothly reach upward for a bottle of wine and two glasses. Opening the bottle, he pours two glasses and gracefully hands one to me. I use both hands to retrieve the offered glass, making sure I grasp his hand while doing so. He must have noticed. I think I detect an increase in warmth when we touch, but his eyes do not leave mine as I withdraw the glass.

We chat for a while about my work, about his work, about his love of modern art and skiing. He asks simple questions, but with each answer I find myself wanting to tell him everything about me. The wine glasses are filled several times with the excellent, deep red merlot, and before I know it, I feel the warm glow of relaxed excitement.

When his glass is empty, he sets it down, pauses, looks straight into my eyes, sits forward and takes my free hand in both of his. “I am determined to make this the most memorable flying experience you have ever had,” he begins. “Would you share with me what I can do to make this experience better?” The wine burns as I hurriedly swallow my remaining ruby liquid, my mind racing. ‘Is he coming on to me or is this his survey?’ my mind flashes. ‘So, what if he is? I am a single adult, he’s not wearing a wedding ring, and he is gorgeous, rich, and genuine.’ I debate for two seconds.

“Bill, I hardly know you, but, yes, there is something you can do for me.” I pause to get the words right. “Tell me why you singled me out for your survey.” I watch his face intently, knowing that his response to my question will determine which path this encounter will take. During the course of our chat, we have drawn closer, sitting facing each other, with his knee between my knees, brushing my inner thigh from time to time when we laugh or he shifts his weight. Now, his face is less than a foot from mine, his musky scent filling my nostrils, his hands resting in my lap, firmly yet gently holding my right hand.

“Marci, I travel about 400,000 miles per year, crisscrossing the country on my airplanes. I talk to thousands of people every month, so I have many opportunities to meet women. However, when I saw you board this plane, my heart skipped a beat…that has never happened to me before, not ever. I am sure there are scientific explanations for what I have been feeling since I first glimpsed your exceptional figure, designer ensemble, and bright, intelligent eyes. All I can say is the only thing I have been able to think about is touching you, holding your hand, feeling your warmth,” he says gently as he raises my hand to his lips and brushes it lightly. “I have never felt desire as I do right now. I can only hope you feel something for me, too.”

I stare at him in disbelief. ‘How could such a devastatingly handsome man be so taken with me when he could have any woman he desires? He has money, style, is a world traveler, and is in damn fine shape for a 40-year old.’ Once again I admire his trim midsection and taut face. I look down at his hands, so gentle, and up at this face, so sincere. Somehow, I know what he says is true. My heart races with excitement.

Without thinking, I lean forward and answer him with a kiss, not a sloppy ‘I’m a drunk slut’ kind of kiss, but a very lady-like gentle kiss….but not too lady-like. I kiss him squarely on the lips, with some authority. As I pull back and gaze at that handsome face, I see him looking intently into my eyes. He does not have to speak. His eyes fill me with his thoughts, his hunger, and his desire to have me.

Without a word, I let go his hand, stand up in the cramped space and slowly unzip my straight linen skirt. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind Bill as I stand. ‘All those workouts have really paid off,’ I think as I admire my own flat stomach, trim arms and gravity-defying bosom. When I look down at Bill, he places his hands on my waist, leaning forward to kiss my exposed navel. ‘Mmmmm,’ I moan as my skirt slips to the floor. As I unbutton my blouse, his hands gently slip inside my panties caressing my buttocks. When my blouse falls open, he stands, his hands sliding up my back, creating the most exquisite sensation. I feel a flood of warmth in my most private place, and close my eyes with a small gasp. ‘How could he know my most erotic spots?’ Bill takes over now, rising to his full height, kissing me sensually on the lips, his strong embrace pressing our bodies together. I feel his aroused manhood against my body, firm and thrilling.

After a breathless, passionate kiss, our moist lips separate and Bill draws back. His face asks the question I have been waiting for, his eyes searching mine for an answer. I nod slightly, smiling, my breathing becoming slightly shallow. Bill steps back and, in seconds, has removed his trousers, shirt and tie. His body is even more stunning without clothes…the muscles of his chest are full and firm, his biceps and forearms sinewy, and his stomach muscled and trim. I reach out to caress his chest, and with each touch my own desire intensifies. I become subtly aware of soft music…I hadn’t noticed it before.

Bill wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. With his free hand he gently but firmly lifts my right leg, bent at the knee, and places my foot on the leather stool. Supporting my elevated right leg, he enters me slowly, gently, urgently. At the first sensation, I throw my head back as waves of pleasure roll up my body. I shudder. His lips find mine. His kisses increase in urgency with the tempo of his thrusts. Our bodies move in perfect harmony, our hips swivel as one. I moan as the pulse increases. My body is on fire. My mind drifts. I am flying.

Minor turbulence gently rocks the plane as if the pilot, on cue, dipped the wings, making the whole plane rock in synchronization with our love dance. My fingernails glide down his back to his well-muscled buttocks. I grasp them firmly and hold on tightly, as the pleasure intensifies. I can hold back no longer, and I moan as wave after wave of ecstasy sweeps over me. My head feels light, my body weightless, only the sensations of total pleasure fill my mind. Seconds later I feel Bill convulse as his thrusts deepen and slow. I feel warm and a little woozy, but am unwilling to let him go. After a few minutes, Bill gingerly draws away and tenderly lowers my leg to the floor. He kisses my eyes, my neck and the corners of my mouth.

After a few more moments of warm, wet closeness, the Fasten Seat Belts light illuminates indicating our approaching destination. As we dress silently, Bill looks up at me, smiles and says, “So how do you like my airline?” “You are my Prince,” I reply. “You can fly me anytime.”