Tom And Jane Ch 01 Meeting

Chapter 1 -- Meeting

It really had started like any other week the previous 3 years; I drove in from my 'palatial estate' in the suburbs of Detroit, to the airport, into company parking, into the crew lounge, into the cockpit of my trusty Boeing 737. Into what had been my world the last 23-odd years of my life. I had never had what would have been considered a promising Navy career, but the US Government seemed to have enough faith in me that I was able to fly through most of that time. Mostly the Grumman EA-6B prowler. However, what the Navy giveth, the Navy taketh; my marriage hadn't survived the career. I was at least on good terms with Jessica, my ex, and I had moved to Detroit to be near her and the kids. Lucky for me, Pan American World Airways had just begun another re-re-re-rebirth, and I pretty much stepped directly into the Captain seat on the same bird I was flying today, the 737.

In the right seat was what we call a retread, a pilot who had survived at least one airline closure. In Ron's case, at 58, he had survived 5 closures. Given who he had flown for originally, I'm keeping track of whether or not Ron's first airline closes soon as well, as the man in the right seat had the misfortune of flying F-15s for the Air Force. He gives it back to me equally well. This being our third trip together in this calendar year (it only being March), we've had time for some good natured ribbing back and forth. Todays would end up going a bit differently.

Besides Ron, we had six flight attendants; Jane, our lead, jumped from Air Canada to fly with us around the same time as I had joined up, and quickly became senior attendant. The rest were a blur of faces, but I had flown with Jane at least three dozen times by now. The Detroit crew base wasn't that big, so it was to be expected. There were some interesting things about Jane that I had noticed over time.

For one, Jane was not a small woman; she was about 5'7", but was built like a tank. It wasn't really fat, but it wasn't clearly defined muscle. I could never get a good read on her measurements. Also, I couldn't even tell her age; my only long talk I had with her, she seemed to have a good 30 years' worth of flying stories, but only looked to be in her early or mid-30's. Jane was in many regards a complete mystery.

Ron was busy entering the flight plan into the nav computer (rank has its privileges), and I was able to go over the charts for the legs we were flying today. Detroit to New York, to Montreal, back to New York, to Nashville, and then to Miami for the night. Ron glanced back, eying the door, and leaned into me "why do I always get Big Bertha on my legs" said the chronically divorced USAF pilot. I mumbled something about buttering up scheduling, trying to not cross rule number 2; Don't shit on the cabin crew. Ron, undeterred, continued "I swear that she gets another 2 inches on her waist every time I fly with her, and she wasn't small to begin with."

That was the line "Ron, there's probably a better place to have this conversation than where we are."

"Sorry swabs, didn't know you were into fat chicks" was the USAF-level brilliance from the right seat.

I didn't take the bait, and replied "sorry man, you know my rule about dating."

At which point the door creaked, and Jane, slowly and steadily, spoke "The passengers are seated, and we are ready."

Well, fuck me. And fuck Ron, that jackass.

I spent the entire day feeling like I was about a millimeter tall. The truth was that there was no way in hell that I'd date Jane, not because of her size, but because I strictly followed a rule taught to me by a fellow aviator, one which resided as RULE ONE on my Big List of Rules; thou shalt not date the coworkers. I watched said naval aviator throw his promising Navy career down the tubes by being caught with a married fighter jockey. It was a rule which had let my marriage go out gracefully, and while keeping me single fairly regularly, had also kept me out of any trouble at Pan Am.

After handing off the jet to the next crew, Ron and I broke for the hotel. I had noticed that the flight attendants had finished their jobs faster than normal, and was met by Jane's most junior FA, Clara. "Tom, I need to talk to you about Jane" she said as Ron and I reached the gate. Shit. Ron just weakly shrugged, and moved on under his own steam towards the waiting airport shuttle. I steeled myself for the anger, but Clara was more confused. "Did something happen between Jane and you pilots? I heard her sobbing in the crew toilet after our first turn, and she never really recovered her composure." Poor Clara, probably got thrown into this.

I simply said "I'll talk to her, she kind of walked into a bad conversation."

Clara and I walked the 5-minute stroll to the crew shuttle, talking about our shared hometown (we were both from Topeka, but separated by a good 20 years). Entering the shuttle, the first thing I noticed was Ron's 'what, me worry?' look, and then Jane, staring out the window, pretending nobody else existed. I continued to shrink into sub-particle level size, feeling absolutely awful as a person. The short ride to the hotel felt like an eternity. Pulling into the front, everyone spilled out of the van and headed to their individual rooms.

A half an hour later, while unpacking/trying to figure out how to extricate myself from a bad situation, the room phone rang. Answering it, I heard Clara's voice on the other end "Just wanted to give you a heads up that Jane headed down to the lobby bar about 5 minutes ago." Thanking her, I hung up, but not before realizing I heard another voice in the background in Clara's room. At least I'd have a comment to sort of break the ice. Quickly I changed out of my pilot's uniform, and into the standard khakis and polo I'd worn for years as my 'relaxation outfit.' It was time to use a good lesson from my first CO, and confront the issue head on. It wasn't something I was particularly good at, though.

Unlike the shuttle ride, the elevator seemed to hit Mach 1 between my floor and the lobby. As the doors opened, there was Jane, sitting directly across the way, almost as if she was presenting a clear target for me to find. A quick gulp, and a reminder that I needed to move my feet, and I was at her table. "Mind if I sit with you?" I asked her in a much stronger voice than I thought I could muster.

"Yes" was all her reply entailed. This was going to be painful.

I sat, and started "Clara called me to tell me you came down here. What's interesting about that is-".

Jane interrupted "I'm going to take a wild guess and say you heard Sean's voice. I had warned them that they needed to be more discreet about their 'friendship.'" She said it without any hint of humor, or happiness, or any sort of real emotion. I felt even worse, because she seemed emotionally drained. "Also" she paused a moment "you don't need to apologize for what I heard. It was a conversation I shouldn't have wandered into."

"Jane" I started, pausing to make sure I had the right words "I want to apologize for what was said by my first officer and I. It was completely unprofessional." Jane didn't seem to react to what I had said, and I was at a loss for what to do next. We sat in silence for what felt like an hour, but was probably no more than a minute.

"Do you think I'm unattractive" she suddenly said, attracting the brief attention from another bar patron.

"Jane, I need to be completely honest with you, I don't have the luxury of considering any of my coworkers attractive. Not even Sean." To this she seemed to warm briefly, before going back to her emotionless demeanor that was all I had seen since earlier. The bartender came over to our table, and I ordered a beer, Jane ordering a Long Island ice tea.

After the bartender had left, Jane returned to her original comment "you didn't answer my question."

I looked at her, and saw that her bright blue eyes were starting to glass over, as if she were about to start crying at any moment. "Jane, I don't find you attractive, because I haven't found anyone else attractive since the divorce." As soon as I'd said it, I realized that for the last 7 years, I had just been going through the motions, hence my lack of a love life. I'd also believed that I had fucked up immensely, until I looked over at Jane, who almost looked surprised.

"So, how many years?" she asked me, after a minute.

"I've been divorced a little over 7 years" I replied, still hesitating a bit to talk about it.

"It's been 4 for me" she said almost as soon as I'd finished speaking.

We spent the next hour talking about our lives, how my life only consisted of my kids, flying, and some YMCA basketball I had taken up playing to stay in shape. Not a lot of the was surprising to Jane, as I had volunteered a lot of it during some crew downtime in past trips. However, I came to realize that Jane had told most of us absolutely nothing about her life.

For one, Jane was not 30, or even 35. Jane was 44 years old, divorced with no kids, and lived across the river in Windsor. Her previous husband had been a lawyer with an eye towards the firm's secretaries. All she had wanted was a clean break, and moved from Montreal back to her hometown of Windsor, picking up a job at Pan Am along the way. It made perfect sense at that point, as she also told me that she began with Air Canada at 22 years old, and thus had almost 20 years with them before coming to Pan Am. As she opened up, I also began to notice something that I hadn't allowed myself to notice about her, or really anyone, up until that point; Jane was beautiful. She had her bright blue eyes, and brunette hair cut in a sort, pixie-like cut. She wore little makeup, but what she wore seemed to highlight her face. Soon, the conversation returned to the tricky part.

"I've always been big. Hell, I was on my school's rugby team" she started. "It was the divorce where I started to put on some pounds, and I haven't had luck getting them off. My mom has been big her whole life, so it runs in the family." I had noticed that she didn't seem fat, just big, but her next comment floored me. She leaned over and quietly said "It was my grandma on my dad's side that I got the boobs from, though." At that moment, I noticed that a beer and a Long Island ice tea had transformed into 2 and 3 respectively, over the course of the night. I also had to make an, apparently, obvious effort not to instinctively look. Jane noticed, and began to giggle a little, shortly turning into a cute little snort. After she had calmed down, she said "It's okay, I mentioned it, you have my permission to look, but just for a second." I allowed myself a quick glance, and realized that A) she was wearing her standard FA uniform on her bottom half, but was wearing a t-shirt as a top, and B) she had gone through some serious effort to hide her bust size from casual glances. I immediately felt my face flush red, and she began to laugh more.

After a few minutes of chatting and joking, I commented that it would probably be best if we headed to bed for the night. She agreed, and we both took the elevator up to our rooms, and separated with her forgiving me, and understanding that what I want most is to have a great relationship with her as a coworker.

I showered and got into bed. Closing my eyes, I was awoken by Jane standing next to my bed, in a barely-there negligee, telling me in an ethereal voice that she was going to show me a good time. The negligee came off, the vague outline of her large, but surprisingly firm body on top of me. She guided my hard cock inside of her, gently riding it, placing my hand on her extraordinary large-.

My alarm went off for the 8:30am wakeup. I lay there, in bed alone, with an issue that I hadn't had in a number of years.

What the hell just happened to me?

I spent a good 45 minutes in the shower that morning.

The rest of the trip schedule went off without a hitch. I never even considered mentioning the dream I'd had to anyone, and definitely not to Jane. I went back to my normal life, flew the next trip, came back, and in early April arrived for a Detroit to Miami first leg. Walking to the gate, I ran into Clara and Sean, and suddenly realized I was happier than I had expected to be. We all walked together to the gate, where I quite literally ran into Jane. She was on her way out, heading to grab a bottle of water. After realizing it was me, she smiled, and then composed herself a bit. A few pleasantries, I walked into the cockpit and met my 23-year-old co-pilot, did the preflight, etc. We were off.

I wish I could say that something of note happened during the actual trip, but nothing did. The entire crew spent a night at the hotel bar talking, but Jane seemed to always be on the opposite side of the group from me. It was on the return leg home, flying from Houston to Detroit, where things began to get interesting.

"So, uh, we have clearance for Detroit, but center is telling me that we'll be lucky to get there with the snow storm" said my co-pilot. I hadn't been paying attention to the weather, other than for the destination cities, and we had been far from Detroit the whole trip. Taking off, it was instantly apparent that the FAA was going to close a giant swath of the Midwest. We would still push on towards Detroit, but as expected, our holding fuel ran low, and we headed to our alternate, Indianapolis. The weather there was barely acceptable, but we were able to at least safely land a full group of unhappy passengers at the wrong destination. Such is life.

Given that it was the last leg, and that we were driving distance from home, most of the crew decided to rent cars and drive overnight. I was, at this point, too old for that shit. After everyone else on the crew had headed for the rental counter, I found the first hotel shuttle I could find, and off I went. A few minutes later, I was dragging my tired, old ass into a hotel at the wrong airport, for a night of sleep before hopefully hopping a quick flight home. Walking in the door, I looked to the front counter and saw what looked like a Pan Am uniform, with Jane in it. Holy shit! I walked up to the counter and said to Jane "looks like I'm not the only person too old to drive home from here."

"Speak for yourself, old man" she laughingly joked back to me. We talked briefly while waiting for the clerk to get her a room, when she suddenly said "they only have double rooms left, would you be willing to split a room with me?"

"Yeah, that would be a lot cheaper" I said, and instantly could feel the sudden rush of blood that I hadn't felt in a while. I managed to avoid eye contact for a second. We talked a bit more, and the clerk eventually produced a couple keycards. We both headed up to the room. Upon entering, I, being a gentleman, gave Jane first dibs on the bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later, now dressed in yoga pants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. Apparently she was going to go work out at 10pm. I had to admire her dedication at least. After sitting in the room, alone, for 15 minutes, I decided to go down to the pool. It was after swimming hours, but my card still let me in, so oh well. I put my phone and other things on a table, and was slowly easing into the hot tub when I realized that the workout center was right next to the pool, and there was Jane. Her outfit both did and did not leave anything to the imagination. Her lower half was covered by the tight yoga pants, and I realized her lower body was, while not sculpted muscular, at the very least solid. Her upper half continued to be a mystery, but as she ran on the treadmill, I could see the bounce under her shirt, and given that I could see her sports bra straps under the neck of her shirt, I realized the bra was barely holding on. At which point I stopped thinking, because I couldn't do it. Jane would forever be out of reach because she was a coworker.

I closed my eyes, and only became aware that there was someone standing next to the hot tub when Jane cleared her throat. "Get bored and want to watch a fat old lady work out?" she said, but with absolutely no bitterness.

It was then that I said something that I regretted almost instantly; "I would have had to shell out $7.95 on TV to see anything close to it." Jane's mouth immediately went wide open, and she began laughing. As my face turned bright red (I could feel it do so), she began to laugh harder. I quickly excused myself, and went upstairs to change. While sitting in my bed, she quietly entered the room, and went in to take a shower. The entire time, I couldn't get the idea out of my mind that I should go into the bathroom to just catch a glimpse of a naked Jane. I did the gentlemanly thing, though, and put on my khakis and polo, and went down to the bar.

Jane arrived about 15 minutes after, a huge smile on her face. "Jane, I'm sorry about what I said, my brain is just abso-."

"Oh shut up" she said, giggling. "You just made my month with that comment." We both ordered drinks, and made small talk, had a couple drinks each, and eventually realized that we were the only people in the bar (the bartender apparently also having front desk duties at this hour). We made small talk some more, and she headed up as I settled the bill (I offered to pay as an apology for my stupid comment). I spent a good 15 minutes waiting for the clerk/bartender to return, settled up, and rode the elevator upstairs. Put my key against the reader, and opened the door.

There stood Jane. I could see immediately what I had missed. She was wearing her flight attendant heels, nylon stockings held up by a purple garter belt, under which was what looked like a purple thong. Above that was a tight piece that held in her breasts, her amazingly large breasts, larger than I had even expected. She had been very good at hiding a bust size that had gone past DD a long time ago, and was probably now well into the E/F/G range. I then looked into her now giggling face. "Like what you see?" she said. "Let me give you the full $7.95." At that, she slowly turned herself so that I could now see that her ass was huge, but incredibly well toned. It had the look of the giant version of something a much younger woman would have. Evidently, this came across my face, as Jane began giggling more. She slowly walked up to me, and pushed the door fully closed behind me.

I would realize later that I probably went a full minute without making any sort of words come out of my mouth.

Jane did most of the talking. "I was worried that you wouldn't want to do this, but your reaction" she trailed off, giggling a little. She began kissing my neck a little, being very tentative.

I finally found the words I had lost "Jane, holy hell, how?" Jane giggled a bit more, still kissing my neck. I was suddenly aware of the intense need to take off my pants to relieve some of the pressure, but there was something holding back. I took her hand and led her to the bed, and sat down. Jane went to the other side, and laid down, twisting her body slightly to give me as much of a view as she could. There was one thing I had to take care of first.

"Jane, it's been over a year" I volunteered to her, "and besides" I paused.

Jane stopped me "The last thing this will do is make things uncomfortable at work. I'm not going to judge you for how this happens. If it's just tonight, it's just tonight." With that, she playfully ran a finger down my chest, reaching the belt, and gently pulled me over to her on the bed. We kissed, and I found that her slightly large, beautiful lips were as soft as they looked. She wasn't a forceful kisser, but wasn't timid either. She had the best kiss of anyone I had met, probably by a mile. Her tongue found mine, and we locked our bodies together. For a good five minutes, we kissed, and I felt her large chest heave against me. I was probably slightly timider than usual with dates that had gone this well, and Jane noticed, guiding one of my hands down to her butt. I grabbed ahold of a firm, soft, large ass, one that immediately turned me on to how sexy this could be. I contorted my other arm a bit under me a bit, finding the bottom of her tight fitting lingerie top, and began to find my way up underneath it when she stopped me with her hand. She stopped kissing me a moment "Sorry, it's, complicated, I" I didn't let her finish, but instead moved my hand back to hold the side of her head, and began kissing her again. As we made out, I became aware that she was working on my belt, and almost imperceptibly had unbuckled it, then began working on unbuttoning my pants. She pulled away a little and smiled, and the small amount of light in the room caught her perfectly; she was absolutely stunning.