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10 min read

The Flight Attendant

When college waterpolo player Terrence Lake boards a plane headed for Honolulu, a flight attendant will give him the ride of a lifetime.
The Flight Attendant

“Last call for flight 196 from JFK to Honolulu,” the speaker announced.

Adrienne sighed as she checked her watch. These flight delays were going to be the death of her.

At 5’1 and relatively fit, Adrienne was comfortable on a plane. She fit well into the tight spaces that seemed to shrink every year on the newer 747s, but she liked taking care of the passengers. Flying could be stressful and scary, and she loved being part of the glue that kept families together.

Adrienne smoothed down her brilliant navy skirt and plastered on her customer service smile, her “shit-eating grin” as her friend Maggie called it. Just like the space aboard the planes, the uniforms were tighter than she had remembered, but still, Adrienne couldn’t complain as it made her ass look bigger. As a recent divorcee pushing the wrong side of 45, Adrienne needed all the help she could get.

Adrienne’s bright-red ponytail bounced against her back as she went down the aisle, checking to make sure the passengers were secure and all the luggage was in the overhead bin.

Terrance Lake was not having a good time.

In the water, he was considered a shark, an apex predator, a force of nature - at least amongst his teammates at UMich.

Playing water polo at an away game while hundreds of fans were booing you? That was easy.

Stepping your 6’3 frame into an economy class seat in an aluminum tin can that was about to be launched into the air at 600 miles per hour? Not as easy.

Terrance took a deep breath and tried to relax as much as he could.

“Everything okay, Ter-Bear?” his mother asked from the row ahead of him.

“Doing just great,” Terrence grunted as he choked down the bile threatening to rise in his throat.

The seatbelt sign came on as the pilot’s voice announced over the speaker “Folks, just to let you know we might be hitting some turbulence. Nothing to worry about, but please stay seated until the light comes off.”

“Fucking great.” Terrence muttered, as the large man to his left leaned his head against Terrence’s shoulder. The mousy woman to his right had her nose buried in a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey.

Terrence leaned his head back and tried to calm his breathing. It was going to be a long ride.

Terence was just trying to imagine himself back in the water again when a blazing red ponytail bouncing down the aisle caught his eye.

The ponytail in question belonged to a rather petite attendant, slightly older, but with pert breasts that seemed to defy her size and her age. They pushed up nicely against her white blouse and navy blazer, and her hips swayed as she walked down the aisle, offering a smile or a slight touch on the shoulder to the passengers. Adrienne, the nametag read.

Terrence felt something stirring in his pants as Adrienne walked past and smiled at him.

He fell asleep a couple of minutes later, as the dramamine he took before boarding finally kicked in.

He awoke with a terribly urgent need to pee and checked his watch. Hour two of this never ending flight from Detroit to Honolulu. God, he hated planes.

Terrence gently extricated himself from his fellow passengers and headed towards the bathroom.

Adrienne was in the back, gossiping with Candice when the passenger came walking down the aisle.

At 6’2, he was hard to miss. With jet black hair, a square jawline and strong arms that bulged out of his black shirt, the man - or boy, he couldn’t have been older than 22, Adrienne realized - could have been an Ambercrombie and Fitch model.

“Damn,” Candice said under her breath, “I wonder what they feed them in Michigan.”

Adrienne agreed. The passenger was having a hard time getting through. With plenty of people stretching their legs in the hallway, the passenger was slowly making his way towards the bathroom in the back of the plane.

A passenger light came on.

“Oh, better go check that,” Candice said.

She moved towards a section at the back of the plane.

Another passenger light came on at the front of the plane.

Adrienne started moving in that direction.

Judging by the size of the professional male model, she was small enough to barely squeeze through.

“Excuse me,” she smiled at the Abercrombie passenger as she moved through.

It was a tight fit, with her inadvertently pressing her breasts against this poor boy while he did his best to lean back.

As he did so, her hands grazed something enormous in the passenger’s sweatpants.

It felt less like one of those ballpark frankfurters and more like one of those massive german sauerkrauts you saw in the store, except thicker. Much thicker.

Adrienne couldn’t help it. She gasped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the passenger said.

He looked down to where Adrienne’s hand was resting and blushed.

Adrienne jerked her hand back.

“Oops,” Adrienne said.

The passenger smiled awkwardly and made his way to the bathroom.

Adrienne felt herself growing damp at the thought of remembering the sensation of warmth against her fingertips.

Candice came back.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Adrienne said, “just a little brush with a passenger.”

An hour later, Adriene was slowly making her way down the aisles again, this time offering drinks.

“Coffee, tea, orange juice, soda?” she asked, before pouring out the drinks on autopilot, swiping cards for the passengers that had requested alcohol.

Since most of the passengers were still asleep, she made it a point to pour a little extra for the ones who were still awake.

"Coffee, tea, orange juice or soda?" Adrienne asked the passengers in 36B.

Two of the passengers were sleeping, but the third was the Abercrombie model from earlier.

"Ginger ale please," he said before catching her eye and looking away.

His eyes were a piercing blue, and she felt like he was looking deep into her.

Adrienne caught herself blushing but was determined not to make a big thing of it. She carefully scooped the ice and poured out the remaining cap of Schwepps.

Adrienne brought over the filled cup. The passenger lifted his hands to help her. God, they were massive. As his fingers brushed against hers, she could feel a deep warmth spreading from her crotch.

The airplane rattled, and the ginger ale spilled onto the passenger’s sweatpants.

“Oh my god,” Adrienne said, “I’m so sorry.”

She gathered some napkins and began dabbing at his pants, doing so quietly so as not to wake the sleeping passengers seated to either side.

As she did so, she began noticing his cock begin to stir. Adrienne dabbed a little harder to hide his embarrassment.

The airplane hit another bout of turbulence, and Adrienne found herself flung face-first into the passenger’s cock.

She could practically feel the heat emanating from it as her lips were inches away from his thick member, separated only by the stretchy cloth material of his sweatpants.

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