I travel a lot, taking the 14-hour flight from the U.S. to Asia several times a year. I could do it in smaller flights broken up with layovers, but I hate the idea of wasting time sitting in airports, and would rather get it all over with at once. Not that I enjoy the dead time sitting on an airplane for that long, but I'd rather just get it out of the way, not matter how long or boring the flight is -- except for one time, anyway.
We took off from Dulles around 9:00 p.m. and, as usual, I set my watch ahead to the local time where I was heading -- I like to do that so that I can begin the arduous task of re-orienting myself to relieve the jetlag when I land. Most people don't, and sleep through the whole flight; a big mistake in my book.
Anyway, around 7:00 a.m. by my watch (11:00 p.m. EST), the whole plane was pretty much dead to the world, and I was bored. The book I'd brought along wasn't as good as I'd hoped when I bought it, I'd already seen the movies they were showing, and I'd read all of the in-flight magazines so many times I could practically quote them word-for-word. So I stood up to stretch my legs (my cheap-ass employer only pays for coach flights), and headed to the rear galley, where the flight crew will sometimes let passengers hang out, and I expected to find a few other like-minded travelers to chat with.
When I stepped into the galley, I didn't see any other travelers, but my attention was immediately grabbed by the flight attendant who was there. She had her back to me, and I couldn't help but stare, as she had the kind of body that I absolutely love -- think Marilyn Monroe but even curvier. She was probably about 5'6" tall, around 150 pounds, auburn hair that reached just past her shoulders pulled back into a neat pony tail -- but those curves were what caught my attention.
She was slightly bent over, elbows leaning on the countertop, and I could see the outer swell of her breasts even from my viewpoint. Her waist dipped in sharply, then swelled back out to what I can only describe as the most incredible ass I've ever seen -- even better than my wife's, a beautiful woman who I'd forget completely about for the next hour or so. Her body was covered by a form-fitting flight attendant's uniform, the kind with the navy blue blazer, navy blue knee-length skirt, dark hose, and simple black 2" heel pumps.
I swallowed hard, trying not to stammer as I said a simple, "Hi.". She stood and turned, smiling at me politely like all flight attendants do. I tried, I really tried, to look her in the eye as she smiled "Hi" back to me, but I couldn't -- her cleavage almost screamed for attention. Full, thick, luscious swells that were nicely tanned and seemingly all the more so against the contrasting white of her blouse. I heard a slight chuckle in her voice as she said "Hi" again; breaking my reverie and making my eyes lift to hers.
I saw she was an older woman, maybe 15 years older than my 40, but had obviously taken care of herself. Other than a few laugh wrinkles around her eyes (a startling hazel green), she had the smooth complexion of a 25- or 30-year old woman. A pert little nose, and a great smile formed on raspberry-red lips made me smile back at her almost without knowing I was.
"Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to stretch my legs a little," I said, still fighting to keep my eyes on hers and not let them roam over her body. "No interruption at all," she said, "I'm just taking a break from first class myself." No wonder I hadn't noticed her before, I thought, seeing as how I was stuck in coach (yeah, I know I already mentioned that, but it really burns my ass that my company won't pay for at least business class). "Back here slumming?" I joked, glad to see the smile grow bigger on her face. "Yeah, I guess, but I'm glad I am," she said demurely, her eyes giving me the once over.
I could tell (I hoped) that she liked what she saw based on the way her nostrils flared just ever so slightly and her smile became more playful. By no means handsome, I still don't think I'm that bad-looking -- just short of six feet tall, around 210 pounds, really broad shoulders and just the slightest layer hiding my abs. She smirked even more playfully as her eyes dropped again, pausing for just a moment when they reached the bulge in my khakis and then gazing down my legs before lifting her eyes back to mine.
"Not really the best place to stretch your legs back here is it?" she said with what I took to be a playful, flirting tone. Again, almost without knowing what I was doing, I stepped closer to her until I was looking down into those incredible eyes and said back, surprisingly, just as playfully, "Know someplace better?" It was surprising not only because I'm married, but more so because I'm too shy to flirt -- if my wife hadn't come on to me when we first met, I'd still be a bachelor. She made a point of looking at my wedding ring before inching towards me and almost whispering, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to come on to me." I smiled and leaned in until I could feel just the very tips of those sweet tits pushed against me through our clothes, my face just a few inches from hers as I took her hand in mine, fingering the rings on the third finger of her left hand and whispered back, "I won't tell if you won't."
