A Creative Challenge

On board the aircraft, the Business Class cabin crew had a glass of champagne in our hands almost before we had sat down, and I was very happy at the extra leg room that I knew we would both appreciate on this long flight. Amy had done her research well, and the seats were exactly as she had said, and the wide armrest between us flipped up to make two very comfortable seats into one short semi-reclining sofa. There were two rows of seats next to the windows on each side of the cabin, and one row down the center, with an aisle down each side. The trouble was, we were in two seats in the middle of the middle row.

What Amy obviously hadn't been expecting was how crowded the business section was going to be. There was not a spare seat anywhere, and we might have our own sofa, but there were people all round us and there was no chance of any privacy to go with it.

"This m.h.c. thing is going to be a bit tricky sitting here, Sam."

"No it's not", I said, "it's going to be impossible here. We'll just have to use the toilet, like most civilised mile-high-club members."

"But that's so obvious and unimaginative," said Amy. "I was hoping to do it in a way that was a bit more..."

"Public?"

"...classy, I was thinking. Yes, and more public."

Her disappointment was written on her face. I could never get used to seeing that face unhappy.

"Amy, choosing this section so we could have the best seats to fuck in was very clever of you, and we could get away with it under a blanket if this was a night flight. Why don't we change our return flight so that we come back at night? Then I'm game. But you know we can't do it here, not now."

Amy nodded her agreement to this compromise and she brightened up a little. About an hour later, after the mid-morning snack trays had been cleared away, Amy unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned towards me.

"Wait a couple of minutes and follow me. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before I could say anything, she was walking towards the toilet block at the front of the business section. I waited for a while, and was just about to get up, when a man in the row in front of ours beat me to it. I got up quickly but he was already halfway down the aisle and I had to follow him. I knew there would be more than one cubicle free, and I thought the odds were pretty good that he would choose one of the empty ones.

I was right behind him when he pushed open the folding door of the first green 'unoccupied' toilet. Inside, smiling, and making no attempt to cover herself up was Amy, naked, and leaning nonchalantly against the washbasin.

"Whoa!", said my fellow passenger, stopped in his tracks.

I tapped him on the shoulder and said quietly, "I think that's mine. Why don't you use this one?" I pushed open for him the door to the next empty toilet. He looked at me and smiled, then looked back at Amy.

"Hello," said Amy.

"Hello," said the man. He turned back to me. "I'm happy to swap. If you like."

"I don't think so."

"You'd be crazy if you did," he said, closing the door of his cubicle behind him.

"What kept you?" said Amy, as I locked the door.

"I had to wait until someone else could 'accidentally' find you first", I lied.

"How thoughtful of you. I love the expression on their faces when that happens. That was so cool, and now I'm even hornier." As she was speaking, she undid my pants and pushed them to the floor. Then she kissed me as she quickly massaged my cock to full attention.

"You'll need to give me your pants," she said.

"Why?" I said, stepping out of them and trying with some difficulty to bend down and pick them up in a cramped tiny room designed for only one person.

"I'll have to sit on the washbasin, and the edge of it's cold and narrow. I need some more padding for my ass."

She took my pants from me and rolled them up with her sarongs and shirt to make a cushion which she put on the edge of the basin. She turned round and as I tried to help her up onto it, the plane suddenly lurched and she fell forwards onto me.

"Uh-oh. Turbulence. We'll have to be quick, Sam."

This time I stood between her legs as she hopped up backwards onto the hand-basin, leaning back against the mirror with her feet flat against the wall behind, one leg on either side of me. I had to stand up a little on my toes to get the head of my penis at the right angle against her pussy, but I slid straight into her much more easily than I was expecting, given the circumstances. She put her arms round my neck and pulled me towards her, so that she could put her mouth to my ear

"I hate to tell you this, Sam, it wasn't just the thought of fucking you. Getting caught like that made me extra wet in a big hurry."

"Whatever, it feels just as good either way," I said, moving my hips backwards and forwards with a slow steady rhythm.

The plane bumped and lurched a few more times, but Amy was braced against the mirror one side and the wall on the other. gripping me with her knees, and I had my palms flat against the mirror either side of her shoulders, so we were not about to be interrupted even if the aircraft bucked and pitched like a rodeo horse.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is the first officer. Please return to your seats immediately, and fasten your seatbelts. We will try to climb above this patch of turbulence, but it could get very bumpy."

"Faster, Sam, I don't care if the wings fall off, you're not stopping now."

It was almost as if the turbulence was trying to help us enjoy this part of the ride, because the plane's wild lurchings were slamming us together and bumping us sideways, intensifying the pleasure of the well-oiled friction that was happening at groin level. I pumped in and out more and more quickly as Amy made her little grunting sounds and I felt the tingly heat rise up to my scalp from the base of my spine. Amy is not a screamer but this time she couldn't stop herself from squealing very loudly in my ear as we both hit the peaks of our orgasm at the same time. I wondered if everyone down in economy had heard the unmistakeable sounds of a climax as clearly as I was sure all the Business passengers had.

There was no time for blissful post-coital reflection. The turbulence was getting worse, as the flight crew knew it would. I helped Amy down off my cock and off the bench. As she unfolded our clothes we could see they were soaking wet, and we realised that our rolled up clothes had been pressed by her ass down onto the cold water lever which had been pouring water into our makeshift pillow all the time we were humping on top of it.

I shook my pants out. They were all but wet through, but I had no choice except to put them back on. It is not easy trying to get dressed in a pair of wet, cold, pants while you are standing up in a rollercoaster, and I was getting very frustrated and pissed off. Amy, on the other hand was doubled over, laughing hysterically from both the aftershocks of her intense orgasm and the ridiculous situation we were now in.

"We can't leave here like this," I said.

"We can't not," said Amy, half sitting, half falling onto the toilet seat. "We don't have any alternative. It's so bumpy now we haven't got time to leave separately, we'll just have to brazen it out together."

She was clearly enjoying this. I finally managed to get my pants on, then helped her, still giggling, into her clinging wet and now very see-through top, and she tied the soggy sarongs back round her hips. With a deep breath, Amy paused at the door for a moment, then said "Showtime" and unlocked it, walking boldly but unsteadily back into the cabin.

I tried not to make any kind of prolonged eye contact with our fellow passengers, but most of them weren't looking at me at all. I could see their jaws drop and their eyes widen when they saw what looked like a contestant in a wet T-shirt contest coming towards them. Amy was doing the opposite to me, looking everyone in the eye, nodding and waving to them whether they looking shocked or were smiling in her direction. When she got to our row, several of the passengers gave her a little round of applause, which she acknowledged by bowing to all four corners of the cabin, while trying not to fall over in the still bumpy plane. I wanted very much to get out of the spotlight she was creating around us and get my seatbelt on, so I pushed her firmly across my seat and into her own and quickly sat down beside her.

As we fastened our seatbelts, one of the cabin crew appeared in the aisle, with two blankets.

"I think you'll need these," she said. "I can get you some hot towels if you like."

"Thank you. That would be nice," I replied, not looking her in the eye either, but gratefully wrapping one of the blankets round Amy's shoulders and hiding myself underneath the other one.

Amy was rummaging in her handbag for what turned out to be a small mirror. She held it up and looked at the reflection of her flushed and dishevelled face.

"Was that rather dramatic way of joining the mile-high-club classy and public enough for you?" I asked.

"I look frightful," she said, ignoring my question.

"No, you look fucked."