The Forbidden Flight Service
Joy Brown · Completed · 5.6k Words
Introduction
This chief stewardess, Tiffany? Stunning. Locks eyes, buckles me in, perfume hits like a drug. Later, service cart rolls up. "Airsick? C'mon." Door shuts in the crew lounge. Boom—she's on her knees. "Relaxation service." Zipper down, wipes me clean, then swallows my cock whole. Balls-deep, tongue on my sack, cheeks sucking vacuum. "Big one," she whispers, eyes pleading like she needs my okay.
Chapter 1
Skyward International's business was booming, standing out in a fiercely competitive industry. But there was a strange rumor going around: "No one's ever seen a Skyward flight attendant outside the airport... not a single one!"
The airport terminal broadcast announced: "Passengers boarding Skyward International Flight 6108, please proceed to Gate 3."
"Is this your first time flying Skyward International?" my senior colleague asked.
My coworker had always looked out for me. Recently, the company sent me on a business trip, and he happened to drive me to the airport to see me off.
"Yeah. I don't fly much actually—never had the spare cash for overseas vacations."
"Oh? Well, I bet you'll want to fly out often in the future, especially with Skyward's service."
"Yeah. My sister says Skyward has the best safety record in the country—zero accidents to date. Seats are spacious and comfy, crew is polite and attentive. It's pricey, sure, but totally worth it. Three years ago, she and her husband took them to the US for vacation, and they've specified Skyward for every annual trip since."
"What about your brother-in-law? What'd he say?" my coworker probed.
"Him? He just said it was great, worth trying. But then he clammed up, looking like he was reminiscing about something."
"Oh!" My coworker looked down, but I caught a meaningful smile, like he got it completely.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing. You'll see soon enough..."
"See what...?"
After the tedious boarding checks, I finally made it to the gate.
"Please come this way and show your boarding pass—we'll take care of you!" A sweet voice called from the jet bridge. The crew stood at the plane's entrance.
Skyward's flight attendants wore deep blue women's business suits: knee-length pencil skirts, skin-tone stockings, black high heels, sharp-collared white blouses with yellow-green striped neckties tied in a neat knot up front. Their hair was uniformly pinned up in an elegant bun, with personal bangs up front, topped by matching caps with white piping.
"Sir, your seat is in the middle cabin, right-hand side. Please watch your step!" The door greeter said kindly. I nodded thanks and headed to my seat.
Jackpot! Mine was front row window in the cabin, with crew jumpseats facing passengers from the bulkhead partition.
"Those must be the crew seats," I thought.
As I lifted my small suitcase to the overhead bin—
"Let me assist you!"
A sweet, friendly voice from behind. Navy-sleeved hands reached over, stowing it smoothly and closing the bin.
"Thanks!"
I turned to face her. Breathtaking. Big, bright eyes with sparkling black pupils, long curled lashes, faint crescent brows, straight nose, softly oval lips giving a gentle, serene vibe—full and painted a pinkish-red. Round, balanced face with plump cheeks lightly made up and blushed, flawless skin even bare. Distinct features. Her bangs parted and swept right across her forehead, pinned with a subtle black clip; glossy black hair neatly bunned back.
She was a flight attendant like the others, except her tie was yellow-red stripes—maybe denoting rank. "Hello! I'm the chief stewardess on this flight. Delighted to serve you!" She smiled.
"Hi!"
I sat. She leaned in to fasten my seatbelt.
So fragrant! A wave of perfume—fitting for a beauty! What am I thinking? I shook it off quick...
"First time on our airline?"
"Yep!" I smiled.
She gave a warm, kind smile and moved on to other passengers.
I tested the wide seat, rocking a bit. Skyward seats are huge and comfy! I thought approvingly.
Passengers filled the cabin until every seat was taken.
A flight attendant stood up front with a life vest.
The intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Skyward International Flight 6108..." Hey, that was the chief stewardess's voice!
"...Now, please watch our life vest demonstration." The attendant demoed carefully.
"Place the vest over your head, pull the back strap!" I repeated intently.
"If it doesn't inflate, blow into the tubes on both sides!" She pursed her lips to the tube, miming.
Her mouth puckered—sudden dirty flash in my head. What the hell?! I shook my head hard.
After the briefing, prep for takeoff. Crew checked belts expertly and took their seats.
"There she is—the chief stewardess!" She walked into view, heading for the seat right in front of me. What luck!
She checked with the adjacent attendant, who nodded OK. She buckled up, sitting straight.
Takeoff lights on. Everyone leaned back. Sudden thrust—plane lifted off.
Up front, she rested with eyes closed, giving me a chance to look her over.
Poised in the jumpseat, serene closed-eyed face, legs together slightly angled, hands overlapped on thighs—elegant pose. Jacket hid her figure, but the belt showed curves; chest area swelled noticeably. Nice body!
Plane leveled at cruise. She opened her eyes—I dropped mine quick, avoiding contact. Crew unbuckled, headed aft.
Captain's routine broadcast. I gazed out the window—toy buildings and cars below, my favorite view.
About 30 minutes in, cart rumble: junior attendant and chief stewardess serving drinks and snacks.
Attendants now jacketless and hatless, in fitted vests with double buttons, white sleeves cuffed blue with yellow stripes.
Front-row me was last.
"Sir, you said it was your first time with us, right?" She placed snacks on my tray kindly.
"Yes!"
"Seat comfortable?"
"Great! Way bigger and roomier than others!"
"That's because every seat matches first-class standards—we make every passenger feel like VIP!" No wonder the price—but worth it.
She finished, smiled, and wheeled off with the other.
"Sis was right—Skyward service rocks!"
Post-meal, flight droned on. Passengers slept or read; my mind wandered to the chief, replaying scenes.
"Sigh... a wife like that would be perfect..."
Her sweet voice startled me—she'd snuck up.
"Sir, you don't look well. Need some airsickness meds?"
"Uh... not airsick..." I thought. Can't say I'm fantasizing about you!
"Okay." More time with this hot attendant? Sure. I agreed casually.
"Please come this way!" She smiled warmly, gesturing aft with palm up...
This way? Get the meds myself? Odd, but I followed.
Passed another attendant: "This gentleman's airsick—take over after. I'll get meds from the back." She smiled and nodded at me.
She led to a rear crew rest room.
"Please, this way." We entered; she shut the door.
Suddenly, she spun and knelt—torso straight, hands slowly unbuckling my belt. I jumped!
"M-M-Miss! What are you doing?!"
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"What is wrong with me?
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I hate girls like her.
Entitled.
Delicate.
And still—
Still.
The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.
Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.
I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
It’s not my problem if Tyler’s an idiot.
It’s not my business if some spoiled little princess has to walk home in the dark.
I’m not here to rescue anyone.
Especially not her.
Especially not someone like her.
She’s not my problem.
And I’ll make damn sure she never becomes one.
But when my eyes fell on her lips, I wanted her to be mine.
