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Introduction:

Flight to Italy part 1
Mixed Metaphors XIII

It was Tuesday, a quarter to four in the morning. Tony, Becky and Diane were the first to arrive at the private airport just outside the New York City limits. While Diane and Jake were saying their goodbyes in the limousine, Tony and the love of his life went into the customer waiting room. The inside of the building was plush, compared to the outside of painted cement brick.

Becky hadn’t slept most of the night due to being nervous about the flight. She looked like a racehorse that had been ridden hard and put away wet. Her eyes were only half open due to her lack of sleep. It had never come up before, but this was to be Becky’s first time in an airplane.

Had Tony known, he would have taken her on a short flight around New York City to get use to the feeling of being in the air. A nine-hour trip was a little long for a novice passenger, but it was too late now he thought. She is so tired, poor baby; maybe she will sleep during the flight.

A pretty young oriental girl, about twenty-five with a nametag that read “Simi Omagato”, sat them down on a plush couch adjacent to a wood-burning fireplace, and asked if they would like some coffee. Tony told the girl he would take his coffee black, and to bring Becky a cup of cappuccino.

The girl returned in five minutes with the coffee, some warm Bruschetta, which like most Italian cuisine consists of a food dish, in this case grilled bread rubbed with garlic and topped with extra-virgin olive oil. She also brought sliced Japanese Apple Pears. The sweetness of the fruit complemented the black coffee and the Bruschetta with an almost perfect balance of flavors, thought Tony.

As the airport was close to the ocean, the tarmac was wet with moisture from the bay, and as it was a private airport, there was little activity at that time of the morning. The flight plan had take off time as six am, however as it was a charter flight, the time was tentative.

The flight would take about nine hours. They would fly north to St. Johns, Newfoundland then east toward Europe, south of Iceland across Ireland, Scotland and north of France. It seems that few American charter flights wish to deal with the French government, so they fly threw Germany air space instead. Strange, but a half century earlier it was the other way around, with the United States assisting France in their war with Germany.

From Germany, they would travel south across the Alps and then continuing south along the western edge of Italy, to Naples. Although the trip was only nine hours, due to the rotation of the Earth they would not arrive in Naples until past six in the evening. This was OK with Tony, as he wanted to eat dinner at what he believed to be the best pizza restaurant in Naples. It is located on Via Provinciale Di Caserta, about two miles north of Naples airport.

They sat in the customer waiting room, sipping coffee. Becky had a cup of cappuccino, which was mostly milk and wasn’t bad when you add six teaspoons of sugar. Tony sat by the window and watched the pilot and co-pilot do a walk around of the aircraft. They checked the ailerons, landing gear, flaps and Pitot tube, along with all of the other safety devices.

The cobalt blue lights of the runway cast an eerie luminescence on the underbelly of the fuselage, causing a mirror like reflection on the wet tarmac. At four-thirty, two limousines pulled up in front of the air charter company. The photographer and his assistants had arrived.

Diane walked into the waiting room, a wide smile on her face. Although it wasn’t required, Jake had volunteered to help the other drivers, unloading their limos and loading the gear onto the aircraft. It was ten minutes to six and as the sun came up, the mid-sized jet taxied out onto the runway. They sat there a few minutes as the pilot went through the pre-flight checklist.

Tony looked at his watch as the airplane began its take off roll down the runway. The time was exactly six am. The plane almost leaped into the air pressing all of the passengers back into their comfortable first class seats. The aircraft then began a forty-degree bank, to the left and headed north toward Canada. A strong deep, voice came over the cabin speakers,

“Good morning … this is Captain Richards … our flight will be non-stop to Naples International Airport … we will be flying 500 miles an hour at 30,000 feet across the Atlantic Ocean. The outside temperature at that altitude is approximately sixty degrees below zero, so please do not roll down any of the windows.”

Becky glanced at Tony with a terrible look of fear in her eyes and whispered,

“You can’t roll the windows down … can you Tony?”

“No baby … why don’t you adjust your seat and try to get some sleep. Everything will be fine.”

Captain Richard’s voice came over the speakers again.

“I apologize … that was just a little flight humor to wake you up. If there is anything you require, Miss. Omagato, our flight attendant will provide it for you. Breakfast will be served in approximately one hour. There are menus on the left side of your seat, just under the personal DVD players.

Please check all of the foods you wish on the menu card. You may have as much as you want, of anything you desire so don’t be shy. For those of you who are interested, we stock Starbucks breakfast blend coffee and Korbel champagne. Miss. Omagato is an excellent chef and can prepare almost any dish.”

Becky and Tony had two glasses of the Korbel. The flight to St. Johns was smooth as skating on ice, and as they were flying over the ocean there was very little turbulence. As the aircraft approached Newfoundland, Tony thought about John Kennedy Jr. and the fact that this was the area where he and his passengers died.

Over the tip of the left wing, Tony could see St. Johns in the distance. A twenty-degree right bank placed them on the same heading as Charles Lindbergh, on his famous first flight across the Atlantic.
Tony looked at Becky and felt pleased that she was now sleeping. He signaled Miss. Omagato and told her to wait on any food for Becky, as she was asleep. The young girl placed a hand over her mouth and smiled, then nodded her head.

Tony then sat back and got comfortable, opening a recent copy of Advertising Age magazine. He had wanted to read an article called, “Industry Relevant Analysis On Marketing, Media & Advertising for the 21st Century.” Tony was asleep in ten minutes, not quite making it through the third paragraph.

Miss. Omagato was a little concerned about waking Tony. Her boss had told her to treat him especially nice, as he was one of the partners in the Advertising firm. She reached down and placed her tiny hand, which resembled fine quality china, on his shoulder. He jerked awake when the electric shock of her touch traveled down his arm. As he opened his eyes, he saw her beautiful angelic oriental face looking down at him. For just a moment, due to a dream about his childhood, he had forgotten where he was.

“I’m very sorry Mr. Miller,” she said in perfect English with no hint of an accent of any type, “You told me not to awaken Miss. Davis … however your breakfast is ready, if you would like to have it now.”

“That is fine … thank you … I’m starved,” said Tony as she placed the large tray in front of him. A prime nine-ounce Filet Mignon medium rare, and eggs over easy, pineapple chunks, strawberries and blueberries with a sweet raspberry puree, topped with whipped cream. An English muffin lightly toasted with real butter and Mountain Blackberry Jam. Coffee in a cup, that any man could place his fingers through the handle, and a tall glass of Champagne with a million bubbles rising from the bottom of the glass. Now this was breakfast.

“Thank you again Miss. Omagato, everything looks delicious,” said Tony as he cut into the buttery steak. Of course this was the type of food Tony would eat at any four star restaurant in New York. The difference was that they were five and a half miles above the Atlantic, on their way to Italy. Tony glanced out the window and saw some puffy clouds several miles below them. So far this was a great trip, even if it was work. Tony had just finished eating when Becky woke up. She whispered,

“Honey … where is the little girl’s room?”

“In the back of the airplane … sweetie,” he said pointing over his left shoulder. Miss. Omagato then approached Becky and said,

“Please come this way Miss. Davis, I will be happy to guide you.”

As Becky followed the flight attendant, she noticed that she was at least two inches taller than the Asian girl. The attendant opened a small door, which displayed a green light over it. Pointing to the light the girl said,

“If this light were red, it would mean the room was occupied.”

Becky nodded her head, hoping the girl would say no more, as her bladder was on the verge of bursting. She had heard about the small restrooms in airplanes, however this was much larger than she had expected. Large enough for two or even three people.

As she sat there she wondered why three people would come to mind. She could understand why she had thought of two people, as there were numerous activities in which two people, could be involved, however three people; never.

Suddenly she realized she was very hungry and completed her chore. The hand soap had a wonderful lavender almost, jasmine aroma. The little airline did everything possible to create a pleasurable atmosphere for their customers.

When she returned to her seat she saw a small piece of steak that Tony had not eaten and grabbed it off his plate, like a starving wolf after a week of no food. Tony looked at her as she masticated the sweet, tender steak.

Tony waived to the flight attendant, and at the same time said,

“Honey she will bring your breakfast in just a few minutes … if you will wait …”

“Ok ... but in the meantime, I’m not letting anything go to waste,” she said sipping his cold coffee and a last swallow of his warm Korbel. Delicately, Becky dipped a finger into Tony’s fruit dish scooping up a finger full of the sweet raspberry puree.

“Mmmmmm tasty. Could I have some of that stuff too?”

When the flight attendant came by their seats, Tony said, “I believe she is ready for her breakfast now.”

“She didn’t fill out a menu card. What would she like?”

“Just bring her what you brought for me, but bring her cream and sugar for her coffee.” he said as Becky continued to forage for scraps on his plate, “Apparently she likes it.”

The Asian girl covered her mouth and smiled again. She then went forward in the plane to the galley. The girl returned in ten minutes with a new tray of food and sat it down in front of Becky. As she took Tony’s tray she saw that there wasn’t anything left. Not one crumb could be found on his plate anywhere. Tony said,

“Thank you Miss. Omagato.”

Becky, now having a mouthful of food just nodded her head and smiled at the girl, then tipped the champagne flute in her direction. Tony thought, ‘I hope we never have a famine. My arm or leg will be the first things to go.’

Tony sat back and watched his lady, with her un-lady like actions. When Tony began to talk to her, she glared at him and said in no uncertain terms,

“Did I bother you while you were eating?”

“No … sorry!”

Her behavior reminded him of what it must have been like, when the cave dwellers of 50,000 years ago, grabbed their food and went to a secluded section of the cave to eat by themselves; so nobody would steal it from them. OK … now, that was two things. Watch her alcohol consumption and be careful when she is really hungry … and eating.

Tony sat back with his magazine, trying to make Becky think he was not concerned about her, however he would use his peripheral vision to see what she was doing. Twice during breakfast, Miss. Omagato brought coffee and champagne. Forty minutes later Becky was finished and her empty tray was picked up. Again, every scrap of food and crumb had been devoured.

“Now that was good,” said Becky, sitting back in her comfortable seat. Tony looked up at her over his magazine and asked, “Did you have everything you want? Are you full?”

“Almost everything … but the other can wait until later.”

“What is it you want?” asked Tony, maybe Miss. Omagato can get it for you.”

“I doubt that,” said Becky. “She probably doesn’t stock it. Tony … I have to go to the little girl’s room again. Would you go back with me? The last time I believe I saw a mouse.”

Tony smiled, “A mouse on this aircraft? I don’t think that is even possible.”

“Come with me … I’ll show you.”

They got up from their seats and began to walk back to the restroom. Miss. Omagato saw them and tilted her head wondering where they were going. Tony, believing he owed the flight attendant some sort of an answer said,

“She thought she saw a mouse.”

The young girl shook her head but said nothing. There was no way a mouse could be on board the airplane. They went into the restroom and Becky locked the door. When the red light displayed above the door, Becky reached around Tony’s waist and pulled his jogging pants down around his ankles. She pointed to what looked to be a very sturdy utility table and said,

“Up here Tony … Sit up here.”

Tony was intrigued but also concerned as to what the others were thinking.

“Come on Honey … help me look for that mouse.”

The cold metal against the back of Tony’s thighs was a shock to him, however it only lasted for a few seconds. As the restroom floor was dark gray linoleum, unlike the thick carpeting throughout the rest of the airplane, Becky took two thick cotton towels and placed them on the floor. She then knelt down on them and proceeded to search Tony’s boxers for his penis.

The search lasted only a few seconds, and Tony’s cock filled her hand. She wondered if Tony had understood that this was the thing she wanted when she had told him that,

“She probably doesn’t stock it.”

Becky’s warm hand felt very good on his cock as she masturbated him to a hardness, he didn’t believe was even possible. She placed her empty hand against his chest and slowly pushed him back until he rested against the wall of the restroom. Moving her face to his crotch, she opened her lips and allowed the head of his penis to enter. She then did some magic with her tongue causing his thick cum to be pushed out of his testicles and up his shaft.

Seeing progression in his cock, Becky began to suck, lightly at first, then harder as she felt his hands on her head. It meant only one thing. He was into her blowjob and would cum in just a few short minutes. He was now moving his hips and pulling her head harder.

She knew she didn’t have to move at this point, as he would cum at any second. Her tongue wrapped around the tip of his cock and he lost it. His thick discharge was warm and had a flavor like nothing else. She didn’t know why she enjoyed it so much, but sucking his cock was one of the high points of their sex life. She had joined the ranks of all the women, girls and gay boys who really enjoyed having a cock in their mouth. At this point she wondered why some women were reluctant to take a penis in their mouth. As far as Becky was concerned it was a wonderful activity for two people; especially two people who were in love.

Tony sat back, relaxed against the wall, his eyes closed breathing at a fast rate. She would give him one minute to recover then it was her turn. As the seconds clicked by, she thought of how wonderful his mouth would feel on her clitoris and smooth pussy. When he opened his eyes she whispered for him to trade places with her. As she stood up, she pulled her panties down and off her feet.

There was something about a girl pulling her panties down that intrigued Tony. He had dreamt about it from the time he was nine, in the third grade. The teacher, Mrs. Valentine was out of the room and Cheryl Gladding was in the back room with all of the boys, displaying her panties to everyone who wanted to see. He didn’t understand what had occurred, but Cheryl then lifted her skirt and pulled her panties down around her ankles. She sat on a pile of jackets, spread her knees wide, and with both hands, pulled her pussy open.

All of the boys, who were privileged to see Cheryl, moaned as though they knew what they should do to her. He recalled that he was getting a boner, when a girl who was standing guard said,

“Mrs. Valentine is coming down the hall.”

There was a mad dash by the boys to get back to their seats, which would have made a heard of Buffalo proud. When Mrs. Valentine came back into the room, the air was thick with the odor of testosterone and the unmistakable aroma of little girl pussy. Surprisingly the teacher said nothing, and the boys didn’t know that she was guilty of something similar when she was eleven.

It was in the 5th grade at PS. 21, in New York when the teacher was called away for twenty minutes due to an emergency. Mrs. Valentine who, at that time was still Roberta Coutts was not only displaying her pussy, but allowed all twelve boys in the class to touch it for several seconds. One of the taller boys Arnold Demes, was able to shove his finger up into her vagina and finger fuck her until she came.

From that time on Mrs. Valentine was fair game for any boy who wanted to feel her up. When she went to high school, she was the first girl to have sex with a boy. For a short time in the ninth grade, she even thought about being a prostitute, as she loved sex so much.

The boys were all afraid when Mrs. Valentine stood up in front of the class and said,

“Will you all please open your math books to page eleven?”

She smiled inwardly when she heard a combined sigh of relief from the all of the boys in the class.

“Suck my pussy Tony. Lick my clit … make me cum honey.”

Tony opened Becky’s thighs and kissed their soft inner portion just below her crotch. She moaned and ran her fingers through his soft black hair. Becky loved it when his nose came in contact with her clit causing electric shocks to fire through her body. She didn’t cum, but it sure felt good. When Tony’s mouth began to suckle at her clitoris, she wondered if he was going to fuck her, however the more he sucked the less she cared. He went on for about thirty minutes, and then it was all over. Becky came and her juice began to run down between her legs.

Tony picked up a soft facecloth, ran warm water through it and then began to clean between her pussy and butt. Although they had only been in the air for about five hours, it was beginning to get dark again. He got her all clean and dressed, then after checking to see if everything was in good order, Tony unlocked the door and they went out into the cabin area. Becky felt she could become used to flying if it was all going to be like this.

She was a happy flyer. Becky was full and had, at least for the time being been sexually satisfied. She was now ready for another nap.
Too be Continued …
13 comments

READERReport

2007-04-14 23:55:55
Technical Structure guy again (TSG from now on) I just read your comment to George in Cincy about his series. That was very nice and he deserves it. His story is beautiful because he, like you, knows that love and beautifully conceived and executed sexual relations are congruent functions enhanced by earthy, fundamental, honest, approaches and language. Love doesn't have to be crude even if the language is exciting, and love doesn't have to be promiscuous to be stimulating and beautiful. I love your characters and am so pleased that you intend to take care of them. The flight attendant Miyoko from here and6 mile high should appear again - she is sexy, exciting and desirable, but then so are Michael and his cousin.

READERReport

2007-04-12 04:36:21
When I was in High School, I was a cadet the California, Civil Air Patrol. We took ground school twice a month and flew at least once a month. OG

READERReport

2007-04-11 23:49:04
og.....excellent....i am also surprised at your knowledge for aircrafts...gj and keep them coming just don't kill them -tauren

READERReport

2007-04-10 22:29:16
I almost didn’t write anything as so many people have written about your stories. I happened to read chapter three of this story. I then went back to the first chapter and started all over. I am now all caught up and just finished “My sister the Nun”. Next I’m going to read the “6 mile high club.” What is wrong with XNXX and why don’t they tell us about all of the different writers? Some of you are wonderful while others aren’t. Janey in New Mexico.

READERReport

2007-04-10 15:26:25
OG...I am impressed with your knowledge of aircraft terminology. I, myself am a private pilot and was truly surprised to see you use the term 'pitot tube'. After reading your comments, I now know that you do have flight knowledge. Another great chapter.

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