As a frequent jetsetter, I have for long fantasised about this exclusive club,
which in reality probably has few authentic members who have genuinely screwed
their way through the stratosphere. How can you manage to have-it-away on
board a crowded airliner? Well recently I succeeded – and how! This amazing
experience happened on the top deck of a BA 747 heading out of New York for
Heathrow, with a beautiful girl I had never met before.

I had had a hectic day getting my work completed before flying out, got to the
airport late, and consequently was glad to have got through the airport hassle
and slump into my Club Class seat. The top deck of the 747 has a small cabin
which some airlines use for first class passengers, but many including BA, use
for Business Class; there are only 20 or 30 seats, which gives you the feeling
of being in a small, but spacious airliner. The top deck is reached via a
spiral staircase and you travel cut off from the masses on the main deck
below.

This flight, luckily, was fairly empty so I was fortunate that through the
lottery of seat allocations, Karen, as she turned out to be named, took up the
aisle seat corresponding to my window seat and nobody else got seated either
between us or in the row on the other side of the aisle.

Karen was petite and blonde, about 25 I guessed, (rightly as it turned out),
and clearly well formed in all the important places. She had remarkably light
blue eyes and was obviously in some form of business, as she had a small
patent leather brief case and when she took her coat off she was smartly
dressed in a grey skirt and white blouse – which showed her firm, well-shaped
figure to good effect. I found out later that she was Swedish, a junior
salesperson for an internationally known cosmetics company, who at short
notice had been given a lucky break to substitute for her boss on a business
trip to the USA. Her smart but plain business-woman’s dress looked sexy on
her. Her firm breasts thrust out firmly through her white silk blouse as she
arched her back to remove her coat and hand it to the stewardess. Black lacy
stockings showed her well shaped legs to advantage. But she also radiated
something sensual which aroused the first slight stirrings in my crotch. I
realised I was feeling quite horney and in the mood for conquest, but not in
my wildest dreams did I guess what delights were to follow!

Karen looked nervous and fidgeted when she sat down; she very readily started
chatting. I needn’t bore you with the contents of our chat, except that I
soon persuaded her to move next to me from her aisle seat, so we could talk
easier. She was obviously a bit scared of flying. It transpired this was only
her second long distance flight. Soon after take-off we hit some unusually
bumpy weather; the seat belt signs came on and Karen wrung her hands and
looked scared. Naturally I put my arm around her shoulders to comfort her and
she leant her soft, perfumed blond hair against my shoulder and visibly
relaxed. The 747 flew out of the turbulence but I was glad to find she showed
no sign of wanting me to take my arm away. The meal on a tray came and went
and I felt really strong stirrings in my pants when she snuggled back against
me, until recently a complete stranger. The stewardess brought the drinks
trolley and I persuaded Karen to have a double gin with a bit of tonic which
visibly relaxed her some more.

I slipped my hand down slightly from her hair to stroke her neck and her ear
lobes. She snuggled closer and reminded me of a purring cat. British
Airways, ever cooperative, chose that moment to dim the lights and to start
the in flight movie. I started taking a few liberties with where I moved my
hands, aided by the semi-darkness, but half expecting to be rebuffed as, after
all, I was fondling a girl who until a few minutes earlier had been a total
stranger – this was too good to be true! But I could not help noticing signs
that my efforts were stirring up her hormones; her face looked flushed, her
eyes were soft and her pupils large. My left hand closed over her left
breast. She made no effort to discourage me, so I gradually eased my hand
into a position where I could massage the slight mound of her nipple straining
through the material of her blouse and bra. By now, I felt rampant; my
trousers bulged as if they would burst and I began to wonder if we could
satisfy our wildly growing passions.

She snuggled closer and started stroking my leg in an absent minded kind of
way, fairly innocently near my knee. The arm of the seat was getting in our
way, luckily they hinge back, so I lifted it and took the opportunity to slide
my arm right around her left hip so as to push my hand under her thigh. The
hem of her skirt had ridden up enough for me to stroke her silk clad thighs.
I was pleased to find she was wearing stockings and not tights as I reached
warm, smooth, bare skin slid my fingers under the silky ribbon of her
suspender strap. She made no effort to discourage my wandering fingers, so,
pulling her closer I covered our laps with a BA blanket, and boldly stroked
her thigh with my other hand, working her skirt hem back as I went. She
sighed and parted her legs slightly when my hand moved along the last smooth
inches of warm scented upper leg and my fingers at last brushed gently against
the thin silky material of her knickers, tightly stretched over her sexual
mound.

My cock throbbed with excitement and anticipation and I had to slow down and
mentally count to ten to avoid filling my pants with cum when I realised she
was not only going to let me reach my target, but was panting for me as much
as I was for her. I inserted my fingers as far as I could between her legs,
and stroked them gently along the warm and noticeably damp material covering
her cleft and up to the summit of her pubic mound. She sighed and gripped me
tight as my finger a deliberately sought and found her tiny clitoris. I felt
her hand cup the bulge in my trousers. We kissed long and passionately; it
was strange I thought to have got to such a level of intimacy without having
kissed before. I exercised as much self-control as I could muster as I felt
the exquisite feeling of her hand gently exploring my throbbing cock. In
return, my fingers pulled aside the warm silky gusset of her knickers; and I
was able to stroke warm downy hair and feel the soft, warm, wet and incredibly
inviting slippery crevice. I pushed two fingers into her soft hole, and
gently massaged it; I then rolled the flesh of her engorged entrance lips
gently and firmly between my finger and thumb. She clung to me more tightly,
eyes closed, and her hips shuddered; she sighed again and we kissed
passionately.

But it is one thing to snog, even as naughtily as this, in an airplane full of
people but quite another to remove the garments necessary to couple us in the
way we were were both obviously craving for and to release our wild passion in
the sexual frenzy we both felt. How could we satisfy our enormous lusts?
What with cabin crew wondering backwards and forwards behind us to and from
the galley, we could not easily strip off and start humping without the risk
of creating a sensation on board. I had visions of us being arrested for
grossly indecent behaviour in a Jumbo Jet! Could I somehow get my cock out
and force it past the tight gusset of her tight panties? But what position
could we use? Nothing else in the world now mattered except an overpowering
urge to stuff my straining rod into the depths of her warm, slippery slit.
But trivial problems like knicker elastic, trouser zips, stretched Y fronts
and unyielding aircraft seats made this ambition hard to realise.

Karen, as always, was way ahead of me. She gave my cock a gentle squeeze
which nearly fired it of, and got up without a word and strolled seemingly
casually towards the loo at the front of the cabin. I contemplated following
her into it, having heard stories of people having it away in railway carriage
loos. But this always seemed to me to demand contortionist skills, apart from
being not exactly comfortable or aesthetic! Also, there was no doubt that the
passengers watching the movie would have noticed me following a lady into the
lav, which on the top deck of a 747 is alongside the screen for the inflight
movie, which was then in full flow. The thought of banging away in that
confined space and of re-emerging afterwards was too daunting, even in my
highly charged state!

Karen re-emerged a few moments later, quicker than usual when women use a loo,
looking inscrutable. She grabbed a couple of BA blankets, snuggled back
against me and it was a matter of moments to cover ourselves with the blanket.
In the semi-darkness and in the back row, we felt safe from prying eyes. My
hand went back to where it had been, to find just warm flesh and no knickers.
I reinserted my fingers into her warm and inviting slit. Her hand was undoing
my zip, under the cover of the blanket; I undid my belt to help her. In a
flash (so to speak) my trousers and pants were round my ankles and she was
holding my throbbing prick like the gear level of a sports car – it nearly
made me change gear – into overdrive!

I soon discovered she had also removed her bra; her nipples strained against
the thin material of her blouse. I undid her blouse to expose her breasts
under the blanket. I was then able to lay across her and greedily suck the
entire aureola of her left breast into my mouth, with my head under the
blanket in delicately scented warm darkness. I tickled the nipple with the
end of my tongue, an action I have found to be appreciated by my lady friends,
and Karen was no exception! She cradled my head with one hand like a baby
held to her breast and gently stroked away at my straining cock from its tip
along its underside to my balls. She was clearly an accomplished lover. I
moved my head to her lap and attempted to lick her clitoris, but this was
almost impossible in an aircraft seat, even though she parted her legs as
widely as the limited space would let her. I remember the overwhelming scent
of excited woman mixed with the fragrance of her perfume, but could only
nuzzle her fur and kiss the smooth inside skin of her thighs.

Karen unzipped her skirt and wriggled out of it, still under the blankets.
“Please..” she moaned – “please..” – I felt the same way. She turned to face
away from me, and firmly pressed her shapely bum against my left thigh.
Making sure the blanket was covering us well, I twisted around until my
throbbing tool was pressed up against the valley between her thighs; it was a
similar position as if she was sitting on my lap. I could probe her sex with
mine. She arched her back and raised her right thigh and firmly holding the
end of my pulsing penis, she guided it into the mouth of her soft hole. I
pushed hard so my cock slid smoothly into her firm warm tunnel. I cupped both
her breasts with my hands and pulled her hard against me to penetrate as deep
as possible.

She sighed and shuddered and her hips moved gently and rhythmically. The
need to copulate quietly to avoid attracting attention was not forgotten,
despite our extreme passion. This need forced us to perform using hard
pressure and firm small movements; she thrust hard against my equal and
opposite series of nudges. My instincts desperately wanted me to pump every
last drop of my spunk into her as quickly and violently as possible, but my
intellect made me want to prolong this ecstasy. The discipline of doing it
slowly and quietly, so as not to attract attention, made it easier to prolong
the excruciating pleasure without climaxing. Curiously I have always found
that the longer and steamier the foreplay the better I can hold on until the
crucial moment of a mutual climax. I was able to relax and savour the
exquisite pleasure of being coupled with my beautiful fellow traveller.

I forced my left hand between her waist and the seat until my left forefinger
could just reach past her bush to the hot spot at the top of her slit which I
correctly guessed would fire her climax. We were now locked together and so
overcome with desperate excitement that at that moment neither of us would
have cared if all the passengers and crew were watching, although we kept
straining against each other and moving slowly with great force to avoid
attracting unwelcome attention. I could feel her muscles pulling and rippling
at my straining hunk of meat that I cruelly rammed into her with as much force
as I could manage. She had superb muscular coordination and was able to
achieve what few women I have coupled with can do, to give a feeling of
sucking me into her with muscular ripples of her vaginal walls.

I could hold back no longer and erupted into frenzied, deep, deep wild spasms
pumping and pumping what seemed like gallons of my juice as deep into her as I
could. As I felt my ejaculation erupting I ruffled her clitoris. She
shuddered and bucked and her internal muscles rippled along me forcing out the
last small jerks of spunk. We subsided against each other quite breathless
and trying not to pant loud enough to attract attention. Our fuck had only
taken ten minutes; I glanced nervously over my shoulder and saw a stewardess’s
head rapidly disappear behind the galley curtain. Had she realised what we
were up to? No way of telling, but judging from the slightly awe-struck look
she gave us later, I suspected she had guessed! I wondered how often the back
seat of this cabin was consummated by new members of the “Six Mile High” club
and whether aircrew ever join this club for fun (considering they have many
more opportunities than even us frequent business travellers). So thinking, I
dozed off still clutching Karen tight in my arms, my deflating cock lying
stickily against her leg.

We woke up knickerless and trouseless still under our blanket. The movie had
finished, the aircraft was in darkness, we only took a few minutes to arouse
each other to another insatiable frenzy and I soon had pumped yet another
generous load of cum into her willing and inviting slit. Not being satisfied
with basic membership of the “Six Mile high Club” we had even found time for a
second helping.

The cosy space under our blanket reeked of our sexual juices: we blotted
ourselves with tissues from Karen’s bag. She wriggled back into her skirt, I
wriggled back into my clothes, while she went to the loo to tidy herself up.
She re-emerged looking immaculate (and stunning). Breakfast was served, and
there was little to say after this amazing night of passion. Soon the
aircraft landed, and we went our separate ways – she had a connecting flight
to catch to Sweden. A peck on the cheek and a coy smile as we parted; “till
next time!” I went through immigration and customs in a post-coital daze.
Sadly our paths have not yet crossed again, and if they do, I wonder whether
we would ever achieve such ecstatic feelings as those of two strangers coming
together in such total uninhibited and lustful intimacy in such an impossible
place?

Any other sexy ladies who would like to join the “Six Mile High Club” are
welcome to fly with me – any time! It certainly makes the flight pass quickly
(Caledonian Girls apply here!).