Authors Note:
To all my dear fans, welcome back for my fourth story and a kind welcome of course as well to all those who have come across my work for the first time. For those of you who have not read any of my other stories, my name is Madeleine and I'm a flight attendant for a large French airline. Ever since my first flight, I've experienced an almost uncontrollable boost in my sex drive when soaring off into the air. My stories detail the numerous events in which I've dealt with those desires, both in the air and away from home during layovers at many different international locations.
At 5'6" I have a cute little frame that emphasizes my feminine curves perfectly. I've never had much trouble enticing my victims. A seductive sway of the hips in my uniform or a deliberate partial exposure of my firm 34D breasts always seemed to have had an effect on men. Besides these fine feminine physical attributes, people always have been captivated by my facial appearance. Many have been surprised that behind my innocent brown eyes and sweet lushes lips lies such a horny and naughty woman. With long wavy dark brown hair just a few inches past my shoulder blades and olive skin it does not take much effort to look the part of a desirable woman. Using the lightest touch of makeup and some nice red lipstick I can rope in interest most days. As for my physical condition, I do take efforts to stay in good shape. I just turned 31, and I'm proud that I've managed to maintain the youthful fitness I had 10 years ago.
This story relates an encounter during a layover in Johannesburg and though it stands on its own, you might want to read some of my earlier works as well to get some more insight into my personality and how I started on the road to sexual hijinks. Please note that to ensure the privacy of others, I've changed the names of people that appear in my detailed recollections, but all other facts are as close to the actual truth as I can remember it. I hope you enjoy reading this story. Please feel free to leave a comment or to send me a personal feedback. Bisous Madeleine X
*****
Chapter 1, Some Fun At The Race Track.
During my first few years of flying and the early stages trying to fulfil the needs of my growing fetish, I was still innocent and unsecure about my feelings. Sometimes I acted on them, which in some cases even turned out for the worse. Flo, one of my best friends and colleagues, has been a tremendous help and for a long time was my sole confidante in whom I could find comfort and self-confidence. However much I enjoyed the sensation that was caused by flying and the extreme pleasure I got from engaging sexually when mid-air, I also started to think that there was something wrong with me. As soon as I arrived at a destination, I would withdraw to my room and refrain from engaging in many of the activities most other crew members enjoyed together. From simply having dinner together, going to the beach or taking tourist sightseeing trips, to some of the wilder and elaborate evening parties.
It was Flo who urged me to come out to one of those parties when we were together in Johannesburg one time. Besides the fact it was the first time I joined fellow crew members for some fun, this evening in particular lingers in my memory for some other first-time experiences. The kind of sexual endeavors many enjoy as fantasies, but seldom participate in. It all just started with a day out to the race track in Midrand, where one of the English Formula-One teams was testing their F1 cars for the new season. The F1 crew was staying in our hotel, which basically was fully booked with four of our crews and all the technicians, engineers, managers and drivers of the F1 team.
One of the pilots of another crew had already met with this team and had managed to get an open invitation for all of our staff to visit when they were test driving on the track. During race seasons these men are surrounded by hot-looking pit girls all the time, so in a way we were the substitute eye candy during the training sessions. Being mid-February, it was high summer in South Africa and with temperatures well above 90F it was perfect weather for some scanty outfits. Flo joined me mid-afternoon to get changed and get ready to go to the track. She ended up wearing a short skirt and light t-shirt, which she had tied in a knot just under her perky boobs while I had opted for some hot pants and a bikini top. After applying some makeup and fixing our hair we arrived downstairs to join the remaining members of our crew to take the last van to the race track.
Out at the track there were about 30 other crew members. Mostly female flight attendants, who just like us, were dressed up for the occasion or should I say dressed down; because of the heat everyone had plenty of naked flesh on display. The first two hours were quite boring actually. Only the few pilots, who had also showed up, were very much absorbed by the whole racing thing with those brutally loud cars. The noise was exciting though, which just made my groin rumble when one of those cars drove down the straight and I felt a definite tingle between my legs. But it just lasted a few seconds and I had to wait a few minutes before another car would flash by again. Every couple of rounds the car would go into the pits and the waiting was even longer.
After the testing was finished we were allowed to enter the pit area. It was one of those rare occasions where with three flight crews present, the men actually still outnumbered the women and to say the least, they were all very good looking as well. You might think these racing folks are just geeks and dirty car mechanics, but nothing is further from the truth. The garage, or paddock as they call it, was spotless, as if they needed to perform surgery any minute. All the mechanics wore white overalls which, beside all the sponsor labels, were also immaculate.
The courreurs were unfortunately already gone, but that did not spoil our fun. Had I mentioned F1 is one of the richest sports in the world? Well it showed. They had a massive air-conditioned, hospitality trailer behind the paddock, where we were invited to mingle with all of the F1 crew, managers, engineers, mechanics and the lollipop man. The last guy, whom I learned has just one job. He just put up a sign, the lollipop, which designate where the driver has to stop, but yet he is as important as any other member of the team. Besides the large numbers of males, food and drinks were also generously provided, which obviously helped spark the flirtations between the marginally clad flight attendants and all the hunky guys around.
The booze certainly helped me to relax and mingle among the crowd. After a short conversation with the Lollipop guy I met Leroy, who besides being the only black guy around, also stood out because of his height of nearly 6'8". Not only was he tall, but he was also well-proportioned. His broad shoulders and strong arms stood out in the clean short sleeved polo shirt he was wearing. He happened to be the local PR manager for the team and told me that today was the last day for track tests. Everything had been going so well the past week that he had managed to convince the team director to plan a little reward for all the hard work. Knowing that they shared the hotel with a number of flight crews of a French airline, just provided the perfect opportunity to get all the guys to relax a bit before their flight home the next day.
"You see, they hardly get a chance during the racing season to relax and appreciate all the lovely ladies who walk around the circuits," Leroy explained, while I tried to pay attention and not get distracted by his very masculine appearance. "It is a constant rush from setting-up and preparing for the race; then as soon as it is done we have to pack up and get ready for the next race."