I'm not by any means wealthy. Nor someone who is likely to grace the cover of GQ, Vanity Fair, or appear on Entertainment Weekly. I'm just your average looking guy, in his 30's. I rent an apartment in an okay area of town. Went to college for journalism, but changed my career when I decided I didn't like deadlines, writing about insignificant things, kissing ass, and people butchering your hard work. I decided I needed something different. Completely different.
I joined the Peace Corps. Quaint, perhaps, but I just needed a change of pace. Having worked for a contractor in high school and during summers in college, I was pretty adept at construction work and could do everything from carpentry to plumbing and electrical. Skills that would be useful in Bangladesh, where my assignment would take me.
After attending all of my orientations, getting my vaccinations, and saying goodbye to the few family and friends I had, I headed for the airport, where a 23 hour flight awaited me. I was not looking forward to spending almost an entire day squished into a tiny seat with no legroom, but the Peace Corps does not fly you first class. I resigned myself to intersperse my Bengali language study CDs with walks up and down the 747's long aisles.
I was being flown on British Airways. Apparently, the flight attendants on my plane all were former models, even the older ones. I was greeted by one more beautiful than the rest as I boarded and proceeded through first class down the aisle towards the cheap seats. I stowed my luggage and sat next to a very large man who apparently had never learned that you use soap when you shower. Or maybe he just never learned to bathe... The jet was packed, at least in the coach seating section. There had to be 5 babies within 4 rows of me. I could feel a migraine approaching, and we hadn't even left the gate yet. I managed to squeeze into my seat and waited....
The plane filled up, and just as we appeared ready to depart, one of the flight attendants made an announcement over the PA system.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the delay. It appears that the flight has been overbooked. We are requesting a volunteer to give up his or her seat. Anyone wishing to do so will be placed on the next flight and will receive a complimentary travel voucher for your inconvenience."
Seeing as I knew Bangladesh would still be waiting for me, regardless of when I got there, and the idea of having a free plane ticket was certainly appealing, I jumped at the opportunity and volunteered. I grabbed my carry-on bag and walked up the gangway to the gate desk to work out the arrangements. The flight attendants thanked me and apologized profusely as I passed by them again. I couldn't help but notice a couple of the stewardesses appear disappointed that I was not going to be with them. I must admit that despite my seating arrangement, I shared their sentiments!
As I was making the arrangements with the gate agent, one of the flight attendants from the plane ran up to me. She was slightly out of breath, her medium sized breasts heaved under her form fitting uniform.
"Excuse me sir, are you Mr. Mackenzie?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Sir, it turns out that one of our first class passengers has an emergency and will not be able to fly with us today. If you are interested, you could have his seat instead."
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm with the Peace Corps, and I'm sure they won't pay for the upgrade to first class."
"Oh no sir, there would be no charge."
I thought about it for a moment. I could fly first class. Or get a free round trip international flight. I was leaning towards the free ticket.
"There is no obligation to accept, sir. But I can assure you that your trip with us in first class would be...unforgettable."
There was a certain way that she said it, and an ever so subtle gleam in her eye. I couldn't ignore it. Nor how beautiful she was. She was from a mixed background. Definitely South Asian, but as her nametag read Gabriela Gomes, there was some Portuguese in her blood as well. Her accent placed her as born in India and educated in one of the English colony schools. Was she from Goa? Jet black hair, chin length, parted in the middle. If she had bangs it would be a pageboy cut. Almond shaped eyes that sparkled. Full lips. Slender, with perfect breasts for her 5'5 frame. Her hips flared out, and I remember from walking behind her earlier that her ass could have easily been mistaken for Shakira's. Screw the round trip ticket.
"You make a hard sell, Ms. Gomes. I'm yours," I said.
She blushed and grinned. "You won't regret it, Mr. Mackenzie."
"Call me Alan."
"Okay, Alan, then follow me. And you may call me Gabriela."
Oh, I would like to call you much more than that.... I followed her onto the plane. She introduced me to the other flight attendants in first class.
"Everybody, this is Alan. He'll be joining us in first class."
They gathered around me to introduce themselves, all with the same charm, affection, and gleams in their eyes.
First was Halle Berry's twin sister. Okay, she wasn't related. However, Ms. Jolie Marceau sported the same body, right down to the close cropped haircut, as Halle did in the James Bond movie Die Another Day. Sheryl O'Riordan, in her mid-fifties, had a strong resemblance to Catherine Zeta-Jones. The exception to this was the breasts that strained at her blouse, which must have easily been in the D if not DD range. And I could have been mistaken, but I thought I saw what could have been the outline of nipple rings! Finally, a young gentleman named Miles. I've never been with, nor considered being with a guy, but I could see how others would find him attractive. He had the quality of a model, and was mixed as well. Most likely Asian with European or American ancestry. Very androgynous in appearance, and at the right angle could have easily passed for a woman.
Gabriela took my arm and escorted me to my seat. I relaxed in the luxury of first class while the plane took off. Once we were at cruising altitude, dinner and drinks were served. Throughout the meal, the flight attendants kept coming by to see if I needed anything or just to chat. They were all flirtatious throughout, which made it hard to not...um...become hard. Every time they would rest on my shoulder or clutch my arm, I felt goosebumps, especially when they would occasionally stroke my forearm. This was all so subtly done that none of the other passengers noticed. Throughout all of this they managed to get my life story out (hell, they would have easily had my wallet out as well if they asked for it). Even sexual innuendoes made it into conversation. Again, no one else noticed. In fact, I observed that they made sure to not draw attention to themselves by chatting up the other passengers, albeit about less...intimate matters.
At one point, I asked Jolie how they deal with always traveling and how it impacted on their social life. None of them had boyfriends, and Jolie laughed when I asked her specifically about whether she missed not having one. In a southern French accent, she purred "No, we manage to make do quite well in that regard"
?????? She left to attend to another passenger, leaving me intrigued and a bit aroused. Damn, this was going to be a long flight.
Sheryl stopped by a little while later and asked how my girlfriend was handling my Peace Corps assignment. I told her that it wasn't a problem, seeing as how my last girlfriend broke up with me a year ago when I told her I was joining up. Sheryl's face initially expressed sympathy, then morphed into warmth.
"She apparently didn't know what a good thing she was giving up," she said with a delicious Irish lilt. "It seems such a shame that you'll be alone for the next two years."
She leaned over my seat to take the dinner tray of the gentleman asleep beside me. As she did so, she dropped a spoon into the seatback pocket. She leaned forward across my lap to retrieve the spoon and pressed her breasts pressed into my forearms. So much for fighting to control an erection... She reached down, dragging her tits across my thighs. I felt her nipples harden and confirmed that, yep, she did have them pierced. I tried not to look, but her ass strained against the skirt and even though she had 20 years on me, I knew that image would provide plenty of fodder for jerking off later in the bathroom.
As she moved back, her right breast brushed up against my cock, and I knew there was no way she couldn't have known I was hard. And I could have sworn that I heard her sigh and gasp slightly. She stood up as I tried to cover myself. Too late. She glanced down into my lap and I noticed her pupils dilate and her nipples were much more evident.
"Oops" she breathily said. "Sorry...to have...done that."
