My name is John, and I'm a pilot. I work for a regional carrier out of Seattle. I landed this job right out of school -- an aeronautical university on the complete opposite end of the country in Florida. I love to travel, and I love to be rich and single. Many of my friends have already married and had kids, but I have never looked forward to that road. I like kids too; they just aren't for me, at least right now.
Travelling so many places with a captain's uniform doesn't have the glamour it once had, but that certainly doesn't mean there aren't still benefits. My first few encounters, all with flight attendants -- and one lady captain, were in tiny lavatories after hours. Lavatory sex isn't very fun, so I put an end to that. Most of the time I try to stay away from company girls, too much drama to leave one vulnerable. If I want to see titties, I go to strip clubs wherever I am for the night. If I want some pussy, I will go to bars, clubs, and less-threatening places (gyms, grocery store, etc).
But my adventures of a nightly basis aren't what I'm reflecting about. I'm reflecting on the least likely of all scenarios I had ever imagined in my wildest dreams, and the events that took place when I first moved in. A fresh graduate with a license to fly, fresh out of school and with a new job had the choice of an apartment or a house. I'd had enough with apartments through school and then through the airline's training center. Like my father, I was a man who needed his space, and also enjoyed fixing things himself. So, I eventually found a neighborhood in Seattle that had a nice two bedroom for rent. I spoke to the landlord whom offered to lower my rent when I offered to repair and maintain things myself, which I gratefully accepted.
Working for a regional line I knew that my schedule was going to be irregular, compared to the nine-to-fivers that complete the vast majority of the country. I was lucky enough to get a route that would put me home in Seattle most nights, unless there were delays or cancellations. But I am the epitome of a single man, so getting to spend the night elsewhere is always a treat. I felt no different back then, either. This gave me days off during the week, work on weekends, and other various times I would have to find to cut the grass or just enjoy life.
Anyway, the house I rented was two stories. There was the living room, kitchen, dining room, restroom, and a guest bedroom on the first floor. Upstairs was the master bedroom and master bath. It wasn't big by housing standards, but it was bigger than an apartment, and big enough to satisfy me and any woman I decide to bring home one night. The day after I moved in, I was still unpacking boxes, and taking breaks every so often to enjoy the weather. It was a sunny day, which being the Pacific Northwest was rare for that time of year. The neighbors were already stopping by, group by group, hour by hour to greet me and size me up. I found it to be so old fashioned that people still did that, but after receiving a few various dessert items I had no further problem with it.
Around four in the afternoon, I was finishing a box of electronics and setting up my ultimate single man's home theater system when another flock of neighbors rang the doorbell. I answered the door to a family of four: a husband, a wife, a boy, and a girl. The man's name was Pete and shook my hand firmly. He did not look unlike me, except he was taller. He had thick brown hair, bushy eyebrows, green eyes, and a nice, firm build. He belonged to a gym, no doubt, but wasn't by any means a professional lifter. The children were pre-adolescent, and the young boy reminded me a lot of his father physically and just me at that age in general. His eyes lit up when he saw my Captain's hat hanging on the bannister, asking me "Are you a real pilot?"
I kneeled down to look him in the eye and smiled, "I sure am." I reached for a box near the door which I'd remembered had various company crap in it, felt around and handed the boy a set of wings with the airline logo on them.
The boy was in complete awe, and could only say "Wow! Cool!"
I looked over at the little girl, slightly younger than the boy and blond. Before I could ask what her name was, she shied up to me, "Can I go fly with you some day?"
I started laughing and told her she could. I handed her a toy airplane from the box, then stood back up to relieve my aching knees. On my way up though, I noticed the best site I'd probably seen that week on the other side of the young boy - a long, smooth pair of lady's legs. It was warm out, and she was wearing shorts -- tight, camel toe shorts. As I came to my feet, part of me wanted to just land in her crotch and start munching. "And your name is?" I asked her as I met her eye level.
Extending a handshake, she smiled warmly and said "I'm Sarah. Pleased to meet you, Captain."
"Please," I responded, looking at her husband as well so he wouldn't suspect foul play, "call me John. Captain is my middle name." Pete started cracking up, so I took the opportunity to give his wife the once-over. Sarah was middle-aged, but on the young end of it -- I guessed late thirties or early forties. I was in my mid-twenties but she was still very attractive to me, like fine aged wine. She really enjoyed having warm weather, as she was wearing a white wife-beater type shirt. She was wearing a matching white bra which could easily be seen through the shirt. The shorts like I said were tight enough to reveal the makings of a camel toe and probably would if she walked around long enough. She was fit, too, and her body was amazing for someone her age with two children. She was somewhat thick, too, which suggested she wasn't obsessed with her weight like women my age were. I prefer a little meat to grab on to and play with, so this turned me on more. I got another look at those sweet grade-A legs as well -- so nice.
Pete's laughter began tapering off as he started in on some conversation, so I refocused my attention upward. As Pete talked, I began feeling slightly guilty how I just eyed a married mother twice my age as I did, but as he rambled on I noticed Sarah was giving me the once-over. It was then I didn't know what to think. I was wearing some ragged shorts that had a few holes in them that I'd had for years. I didn't expect children to come visit me, but then I didn't expect a hot mama to eyeball me, either. She was staring at the noticeable hole near my crotch, and there's no doubt she saw my boxers. Her stare at my crotch was unbending, and I couldn't imagine what dirty things she was thinking of doing to me. Well, I could, but I didn't want to spring a boner in front of an audience.
Watching Sarah's gaze and listening to Pete ramble on, it finally hit me: they were at a sexless point in their marriage. Pete was clearly a workaholic and Sarah was a housewife and errand runner looking for something out of the ordinary to satisfy her horny urges. I wondered what she did during the day with no one home and nothing to do. I imagined for a moment her drinking some wine and then breaking out a box of toys to pleasure herself ten times over. With that thought I felt a little spring in my pants, and Sarah's eye lit up even more. She started biting her bottom lip. I quickly lunged for the box near the door to block the view and acted like I needed to do more work. I wrapped the conversation up whisking them towards their house next door and suggesting that I'd see them again and often.
I went back inside and shut the door behind me, quickly locking it. I fell back against the door in relief and slumped down on my butt. I couldn't get the image of Sarah stripping, drinking, and pleasuring herself out of my head. I thought of what her tits look like, and then eventually thought of what her cunt looks like. Those thoughts, as well as the image of a great ass I'd received from her walking towards her house, were enough to do me in for the afternoon. I slid my shorts off and shot a large load in twenty seconds.
A few days later, near the end of my time off and finished with unpacking, I was sitting on the wood deck in the back yard sipping hard lemonade and reading a book. It was the middle of the day on a Tuesday and though it was overcast, it was not raining. The houses were fairly close together, so there were no fences shared on any side of the small yard. Everyone had a deck though, including Pete and Sarah. As I came to the close of a chapter, I looked up at my glass of lemonade. As I reached for it, I heard a sound to my left, towards the neighbor's house. It sounded like an instant messenger alert from a computer. I didn't see anything, so I checked my pockets to make sure I didn't have a cell phone on me. I heard it a few more times, every few moments and from what sounded like Pete and Sarah's deck.
I didn't have a clear view of their yard from the way our houses are aligned, so I pushed my chair over to another position facing their house. On their deck I saw Sarah in a red jacket and pants, dancing in front of a webcam on her laptop. At first I thought it was cute and nearly broke my silence, but as I watched she bent over in a somewhat erotic position, displaying her great ass directly at me, then turning around to display it at her camera. At that point I was holding my drink in my hand, nothing left, still sucking the straw. I decided to keep quiet a little longer and see how long I could go without being spotted. Besides, I was speechless.
