I have been a pilot for North Pacific Airlines for over ten years now. For the first eight years my private life was nobody's business, but then I came out of the closet. Or rather, I was forced out of the closet, much to my discomfort.
It had been on a flight to Seattle. We were laying over and flying back to Chicago the next morning. I was rooming with my co-pilot, Kevin Sully, in the Belford Hotel. The flight crew took the bus into town and Kevin and I checked into our room, while the flight attendants checked into theirs.
It was a small room with twin beds, but adequate for the two of us. North Pacific doesn't put the staff up in luxury hotels. We all met down in the dining room and had dinner, and if it had been late at night as usual, I would have gone right up to bed after dinner, but it was very early and I had the whole night ahead of me, and to tell the truth, I was feeling a little horny.
I knew there was this boy bar across town, and I really wanted to go and see what I could pick up, and maybe stick my dick into. I told Kevin I was going to go out and have a few drinks, did he mind? And he said 'no' so I went. I knew he would go right upstairs. He had just recently married a scarce month before the stork arrived, and I knew that he would just go up to his room, and would not want to accompany me, thinking that I would be going out to pick up some girl to lay. He would not want to commit adultery, I was sure.
I hailed a taxi and took it across town to the Silver Buckle, which I had noticed on several previous trips, but had not had the chance or the nerve to go into. Plus, I usually land late and have to fly out early, so I don't get much chance to fool around. But now I had that chance. I got out of the cab in front of the Silver Buckle and paid the driver. I looked up and down the street for a few minutes before going in. The street was pretty empty except that I saw a few guys going into the establishment across the street, the Precious Pussycat. I could tell from the signs out front that it was an adult establishment that offered adult entertainment, such as girly lap dancing. Not my thing.
I went into the Silver Buckle and went up to the bar. I was wearing a gray wool sweater over a tee shirt, and a pair of gray slacks. I had taken off my flight uniform, the one with my nametag on it. You can't be too careful. I ordered a beer and soon got into a conversation with a friendly young Seattle man who was standing next to me at the bar. We hit it off really well, and it didn't take me long to decide I wanted to fuck him, and I hoped he wanted me to fuck him.
He said his name was Terrence Grant and he worked in advertising. I asked him if he lived in town, and he said 'yes,' which was good, and then I asked him did he live alone, and he said 'yes' which was also good, and I kept hinting that he should invite me over to his place for a drink, and maybe a little something more. "I don't live in town," I told him. "I'm only here overnight and sharing a hotel room with another guy, so I can't invite you back to my place."
"Usually I don't like to take people home," he said, "but you seem to be an all right guy, I hope, so I guess, yeah, I guess we could go up to my apartment and have a drink."
"Great," I said. It had only taken me three hours to get to this point, and I didn't have all night. I had to fly out in the morning, and I did have to get back to the hotel and get some shut-eye. But I really did want to fool around a little first.
Terrence and I walked to the door, and I don't usually do this, but I was feeling so horny, and he was so cute, and I just wanted to grab him and kiss him and start getting into the mood, so when we got out on the street, I turned to him and pulled him against me, and started to kiss him. The street was empty, so it was okay.
He started kissing me back, and it was like we didn't want to let go of each other. I was rubbing my hands all over his cute round behind, and he was kind of feeling my prick through my pants. Good. It was settled. I would be the one to fuck him.
Suddenly someone screamed at me from across the street "Hilton, you fucking faggot." It was my co-pilot, Kevin Sully, coming out of the Precious Pussycat with some blonde bimbo on his arm. Oh, my god! I froze mouth to mouth with Terrence. I have never been so embarrassed in my life. On the other hand, here he was a newly married man with this blonde babe, obviously going to commit adultery, which is breaking a commandment. 'Thou shalt not be a faggot' is not a commandment, so who was he to cast stones?
"You fucking faggot. Do not come back to that hotel room tonight. I am not going to hole up in the same room as some queer. Keep out of my way," he expounded, and since he was bigger than me, and I didn't want to have a big scene in the hotel, I decided that I would spend the night with Terrence.
"You don't mind if I stay here all night, do you?" I asked Terrence when we got up to his apartment.
"No. No. That's great. Stay here," he told me.
We didn't have any drinks, even though we were supposed to have been going to his place for a drink. We went right into the bedroom and we both got undressed. He was a neat little package. White skin, with rosy cheeks, and even his asscheeks were rosy. And he had a beautiful ass, I couldn't wait to get my cock in there. The two of us fell on the bed, and started kissing. We sort of picked up where we had left off in the street, when we had been so rudely interrupted. Terrence was a great kisser, and I was getting so turned on. My dick was so hard, it was almost hurting me.
"Suck my dick," I told him, and he immediately complied. I lay there on the pillow while he knelt over my crotch and took my pecker into his mouth. I just relaxed and let him do his work, though I knew I didn't want to come in his mouth. I was saving that for his beautiful ass. But it was all just a little bit spoiled by what had just happened in the street. I mean, I was really disturbed. I kept thinking about it and remembering it, and wondering what was going to happen, because I knew Kevin was going to tell everybody that I was queer, and this was so fucking upsetting that I almost lost my hard-on, but Terrence just wouldn't let me go down. He really loved sucking dick.
Finally, I eased him over on his stomach, and laid him flat, and stuck my dick between his beautiful rosy cheeks, and I felt it slowly sliding into him. He had certainly been well-fucked before, and it felt so great. That body heat surrounding my stiff dick. Nothing like it. So great. I fucked him so slowly, hardly even moving. It felt so great, I wanted it to last the whole fucking night. We just kept up a nice slow fuck for almost an hour, and then I felt I couldn't hold it off any longer, and I shot my cum out into his rosy ass. He turned his face to the side, and we kissed, and then we both fell asleep, with my dick still inside his butt.
The next morning, I kissed Terrence goodbye, and said I hoped we would meet up again soon, and he said he hoped so too, and then I took a cab back to the hotel to pick up my uniform and the rest of my gear. Thank heaven that Kevin was not in the room.
I took a cab out to the airport and boarded the plane. The rest of the crew was already on board. Madge and Penelope, the two front flight attendants turned their faces away when I came on board, so I knew that Kevin had opened his big mouth. Fucking bastard. I took my seat in the cockpit, and he was sitting next to me, and all the while I was checking the instruments and getting ready for take- off he kept saying things like "Fucking faggot," and "pervert," and "disgusting queer bastard," and other nice things.
He told management that I was a queer and that he never wanted to be put on a flight with me again, because he wouldn't bed down next to a fucking queer. Management was very nice about the whole thing. After all, North Pacific Airlines does offer domestic partner benefits, so they're not entirely intolerant. Still, not having a domestic partner and the need to avail myself of those benefits, I had been entirely happy keeping my private sexual proclivities to myself.
So, I kept my job and everything was just the same as it was before, except now I never flew with Kevin Sully as my co-pilot, and also I was 'out'. Every one knew all about my sexual orientation. Well, okay. It was kind of a relief not to have pretend all the time that I had all these phantom girlfriends and was a big ass man. Well, I was a big ass man. Just not a woman's ass.
And for a long time I never had any trouble. My co-pilot/roommates were perfect gentlemen and never mentioned the subject. Of course, they were careful to undress in the bathroom, but I completely understood.
But one day, I was piloting this flight to Cincinnati, I had been supposed to fly with one of my regular co-pilots, Gilbert Rand, but he suddenly came down with the flu, and they assigned me a new co-pilot, with whom I had never flown before.
"Hi, I'm Cal Sutton," he said as he came into the cockpit, his right hand outstretched. We shook hands. He had quite a grip.
"Hilton Rogers," I told him.
"I know. Great to meet you," he said, and he flashed a big smile displaying an even row of very white perfectly-formed teeth. He was a good-looking guy all right. Tall, muscular, dark, with thick black hair. But he was my co-pilot and not a possible sex partner. And also, I noticed this big gold wedding band on his left hand.
I started my instrument check, and Cal just kept chatting away. He was distracting me. I was trying to ensure the safety of my 173 passengers, and he's sitting there telling me all about his beautiful sexy wife, Joyce, and his two adorable children, Jacob and Franz, 7 and 5, whose pictures he just happened to have right there in his wallet, which he whipped out to show me. Pretty wife. Cute kids. I went back to my duties. He continued to rhapsodize about his family life, and the barbecue they had had last Sunday, after which the kids went home with their grandparents, and he and Joyce got it on really hot and heavy. And that Joyce was just a firecracker. So good in bed. He was such a lucky guy. And on. And on. And on. I had to listen to this throughout the whole trip. I wondered if he had heard about me, and wanted to establish the fact early on that he was extremely heterosexual and attached.
We landed in Cincinnati at ten p.m. and the whole crew took a minibus over to the Airport Harley Hotel, where we were to sleep. There were four flight attendants, and Ellen and Daisy got to room together, as did Harriet and Carla. I had Cal.
We got up to the room.
"I'm bushed," I told him. "I'm gonna sack out right now."
