Showing posts with label LB to SF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LB to SF. Show all posts

Thursday, January 14, 2010

TMI Thursday - Mile High Club - Kinda

Today is TMI Thursday and I have been told I have to link to Lilu’s Live It Love It site. I guess this does it. If not, bite me.
TMI Thursday
I told someone, maybe Mala over at Mixed Nutswho suggested I post something on TMI Thursday. I believe she mentioned , or I did, about being in the mile high club. I don’t know if I am or not. I did get a blow job on a flight, but not laid. Does that earn me my wings?

Back in my Navy days I met this very sweet girl at the skating rink and fell deeply in lust with her. But she lived in San Francisco, and I was stationed in Long Beach, 400 miles away. So I saved up a few dollars and flew up to see her. I was 18 and she had just started her senior year in high school at 17. It was a sweet weekend. Momma like a hawk, little dove cooing every chance she got. Innocent, but fun.

On the flight back this older lady (older as in her 30’s or 40’s - which is ancient to an 18 year old hormone) was sitting next to me - isle seat - I was trapped - thank God. Anycum, she started talking to me, telling me how she loved a man (HAHAHAHA) in uniform, and asking did I have a wife or girlfriend. She asked me if I wanted to have a little fun? It was nighttime, the flight was an hour and some change long, but we had time. She got a blanket and covered both of us. Then she started rubbing me. Almost lost it right then. Almost! I didn’t because she stopped rubbing and started unbuttoning the 13 buttons on the flap of my uniform. Navy sure knows how to dress a guy to aid in getting a hand/blow job.

Anybobbing, she went down on me. Holy Hoover, she knew what she was doing. Me, I was scared to death. I couldn’t be cool because my head was swiveling like the girl in the Exorcist looking for anyone who might see us or the stewardess (what they were called back then) walking by . But soon it got to where I didn’t care if I was on a stage in New York. And she set up and actually licked her lips.

About three minutes later we touched down (I had already scored a TD by then) and we rolled to a stop. She said, “Thanks for a great flight and have a good career.” and was gone. GONE! I had to button up my own flap - under the blanket. Bitch!

Anysmile, did I earn my wings? Do I have to put the craft in the hanger before it counts? I have wondered all these years.

I did get laid on a Greyhound bus, but you don’t get a ticket punched for that. Maybe I’ll tell you about that one next week.

Unless you want me to tell you about it today...
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