FLYBOY

I am standing in the cozy aisle of the Airbus 319 that, five hours later, will deposit me in the sparkly new terminal at Philadelphia International Airport. For now, it is bottleneck crowded as we wait for the slowpokes ahead of us to shove their bulky carry-ons into the overhead bins. Suddenly, I notice through the thin material of my comfortable khaki trousers, a soft touch on my behind.

At first, I thought nothing of it considering our sardined nature in this warm and stuffy tin can as we wait on the tarmac. But, in short order the male in me lit upon the fleeting idea that, “Even if that hand’s persistence is an accident, perhaps it will be a beautiful woman to fuel my fantasies for the next couple of hours.” The airport was full of them—females of all ages dressed in that comfy and casual but stylin’ for vacation look.

I tested the waters by moving a bit left, right, then forward and still felt the presence of the clingy touch moving with me.

“I hope it’s not that tiny, hunched-over octogenarian grandma who smiled at me at the ticket desk” my rational and slightly paranoid mind countered. Then, I realized that what I felt against me felt nothing like the back of a weak, wrinkled hand. I was being goosed by a hard-on, pressed firmly against the cheek of my ass. I could actually feel the heat from it permeating the fabric and beginning to warm my skin.

Finding myself taken by surprise, not just by this unusual occurrence, but also, by the rising sensation of my own growing curiosity, I slowly turned to meet the eyes of a stunningly gorgeous young man in his early 20s. His head was halo’d by a crown of sun-bleached blond curls, his eyes, robin’s egg blue.

I must’ve looked surprised for he gave me a worried but dimpled grin and mouthed the words, “Sorry.” He appearance so beautiful that I was stopped dead in my tracks and just returned the smile, turning quickly around to face the backs of the semi-patient travelers in front of us. His face stayed in my head as I slowly found my way to my seat in the last row of the plane.

Generally, I hate being at the very back of an airplane on a long flight but, being a red-eye, I wound up having the row to myself and was able to stretch out. I had lost track of the hottie in my clamor to my seat, though I hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a second. He must’ve settled in somewhere before I was able to turn and look for him.

As the hours crawled by, most people slept or tried to since there was no movie or meal service on this last flight of the night. Even the steward staff settled into their seats to converse quietly with little to do until some restless soul got the inkling to buzz them for a pillow or blanket.

In the dimly lit distance, I saw the buff looker rise from his seat some twenty rows in front of me. He walked, wobbly with the motion of the plane, towards the rear restrooms just behind my seat. Just as he was to about to pass me, he reached down and dropped a note into the empty aisle seat next to me and continued into the rear compartment.

I clicked on the overhead light and read the tight, small lettering on a ¼ page ripped from a rent-a-car ad in the in-flight magazine. “I apologize,” it read. “I hope I didn’t offend you. Please forgive me. Chad.”

I had no idea how to respond but I knew I must and quickly before he headed back to his seat. I scrawled the first thing that came to me mind, “Please don’t worry. I’m surprised and flattered. P.”

As soon as I signed my name, I heard the door unlatch behind me. For a brief moment, I almost tore up the note and decided to feign sleep, but I felt his presence before I saw him next to my row in the darkness. There were more empty seats on this flight than normal but the sound of people snoring or whispering to each other were all barely discernible through the persistent drone of the jet engines.

I’d never been hit on by a man before, much less an Adonis of either sex, never thought I was their type. Sure, I’d fantasized and had even come to embrace the fact that my sensitive side, emotional make-up and fascination with those big, stiff cocks in all of the straight porn I’d poured over through the years, were all signs that I, too, had both strong male and female sides to my sexual personality. I’d just never had it acted upon before now.

Chad looked down at me and smiled as I handed the note back to him. He stopped in the semi-darkness and I saw the glint of his teeth as he read my words leaning back into the light from the back of the cabin. I motioned to the empty seat on the aisle between us and he slid in beside me, reaching for the pen that I still held in my hand. He wrote on the small space left on the note, “Forgive me but I’m deaf so we’ll have to keep writing if you don’t mind.”

I laughed and tore another page from a magazine in the rack in front of us. “Stop apologizing. I’m a writer by profession so this works out just fine.” We continued like this for a while exchanging pleasantries and introductions.

Eventually, he wrote. “By now, you may have fathomed that I’m gay as well as deaf, how about you?”

“I like to describe myself as ‘open to suggestion’ and I can hear.” Chad smiled at my answer.

I continued to scribble, “In fact, I took an American Sign Language class twenty years ago, but the only thing I really remember is this...” I put a forefinger to my temple and then quickly moved the same fisted hand down hard into my other palm…the slang sign for “Stoned”.

He giggled and wrote, “What a coincidence, I was hard as a rock there in the aisle.” It was my turn to laugh.

Before I knew it, he looked me in the eyes and slid his hand slowly up my right leg. Finding it hard to breathe, I met his gaze, as his strong but delicate fingertips softly moved over my already throbbing cock. I reached up and clicked off the overhead reading lamp. Chad was so gentle, his touch barely lighting on the hard outline that stretched the fabric of my pants and I couldn’t pull my eyes from his. We both grinned like idiots.

Finding my zipper, he carefully slid it down, pulled my engorged wand out with a bit of effort even though I lifted my hips some to help. I lowered my tray table for more camouflage though it was very quiet and still inside the plane as we soared through the darkness across the country. I would think that this is probably quite illegal in most of the states we flew over.

To describe the excitement I felt is impossible. Knowing that at any moment someone might wake from uneasy sleep and need to head back in our direction was almost too much to bear. My heart raced in my chest as I reached my arm across my body, slipping my palm under his open-necked shirt to feel his heart pounding as I made my way to his stiff, right nipple. He leaned in and kissed me briefly, his lips soft, his breathing fast.

As I began to shiver from my toes on up, Chad glanced down the aisle, and turned his head to glance back quickly at the chatting stewards just ten feet behind us. He slowly stroked my hardness with his ultra soft hand for a good ten minutes while alternating between clandestine kisses and the glances up and down the dark aisle. My excitement rose to a fever pitch and I lifted my tray table. In a quick motion, Chad bent and took my entire cock deeply into his mouth as I gloriously shot everything I had down his throat.

In an instant he was sitting up, licking his lips and flashing that extraordinary smile. His hand still wrapped around me, he slipped my damp pole back into my pants.

For ten minutes we grabbed some quick kisses, glancing down the aisle and behind us, wondering if we’d been found out. Tasting my salty sweetness on his lips was one of the most erotic moments I’ve yet to experience.

At some point, from behind us we hear a bell ring, some commotion in the galley and soon the stewards got up and pushed a rolling cart down the aisle past us with cold water and hot coffee, their final act of service in the last hour before the plane began its descent.

Chad quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me out of our seats and into the empty bathroom. It was a tight squeeze as he pulled the door closed behind us. Without words or scrawled notes I knew what he and I had both yearned for since he first pressed his excitement against me in the aisle hours before.

He slipped my pants down past my ass and I heard buzzing sound of his fly coming down. I watched him in the mirror as my fast breathing fogged the glass before me. He reached for the liquid soap and filling his hand, I felt his wet, slippery palm slide up the crack of my ass, which rose to meet his fingers. Following his lead, I filled my hand with the slick, pink liquid and reached behind me. His cock with rock solid, thicker and longer than I had expected and so hot to the touch I thought it might set off the smoke detector above us.

He had somehow already slipped a wrapper over his manhood and no sooner than I had greased up his magnificent pride, he pulled my hand away and pushed his big, heart-shaped head to kiss my awaiting hole. Chad pushed slowly and I felt his fleshy bulb pop into me and as he pushed gently further, I felt as if I was going to pass out.

The pleasure was immeasurable. I watched him licked my right ear in the foggy reflection. His eyes were closed and I turned my head away from his hot mouth until he opened them. With a finger I wrote, “look at me” on the breath-misted mirror and I stared into the reflection of those shining, blue pools.

Slowly, he eased back and forth in me, my first real man after years of rubber cock, vibrators, my own searching fingers and those of the women I could coerce into a little butt play. I couldn’t believe the feeling of pleasure and connection, of naughty invasion and transcendent lust. I felt him reach around and found my tumescent rod, slipping his glistening fingers around it in a warm and massaging grip. Man love, baby.

He began to moan and I put my finger to my lips realizing he didn’t know just how loud he was getting. He laughed and slipped back into his ecstatic state, eyes half shut, breathing hard and fast.

Just as I was about to come into the stainless steel sink, I felt his thrusting stop and my ass filled even fuller as he flexed his hardness inside me and came in a tumultuous shudder. He held on tight, his arms under mine, holding tightly to my shoulders I took my hand to replace his on my pulsing member and in one or two, slow strokes I came all over the sink and mirror.

We leaned against each other silently for what seemed like forever. Pulling ourselves together, I wiped down the sink and he peeked out the door to see that the servers were still just half way down the aisle. There was a pretty woman in her late 20s standing outside the door as we came out, smiles on our faces, cheeks flushed. Her hair was sticking up on one side as if she’d just awakened from a dream. Maybe she’d not believe or recall what she thought she’s seen coming out of a steamy restroom at 30,000 feet. I wasn’t sure I’d believe it later myself.

Back at our seats, we laughed and whispered on paper and I wish I had those notes now. Filthy little notes of teasing and fantasy and comments on those snoozing around us. The only one I kept, I found in the pocket of my pants a day after I arrived at my final port of call. It said, “Until we meet again…”

Before we disembarked, I made the only other ASL sign I knew: ‘Thank you.”

NIPPLE CLAMPS

Told you weeks before that you had nipples
That were made to be pampered
Feathered
Silky scarf, slowly peeling its way across them.
Nipples, I recalled
Every time you came to mind
These past 27 years since we’d last held each other close.
Nipples begging to be
Pinched
Bitten
Sucked
Pulled
Tweaked
Licked
Rolled between two fingers
Slid across my eyes
Shoved into my ears
Rubbed down my forest of chest
Stuck into my begging pee-hole…
You still seemed surprised
When I told you to close your eyes
And your breath drew in sharply
Gasping when your engorged lefty felt the first pinch
And again
When I evened out your surprise
Your pain
Your accepting trust.
Running my tongue over the cold chrome
Dampening your pink tips as they got slightly darker
Your eyes closed and back arched
So I slid my hardness
Up slowly
Into your dripping gash
My mouth quickly
Subtly, tugging on the beaded clamp
And your head swung
Back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth.

Virgin Territory: Extra Spatial Sexquesters

Welcome to my new blog. Here's where I will vent the labrynthian murmurings of my sexual, sensual and romantic inclinations. Always on the road to new corners of unexplored fantasy--which may be old hat, knick-knacks, paddywhacks, give that dog a bone to some of you--I hope it to be a fun and perhaps invigorating little foray into sharing the twisted and damp inner sanctum of my libido's secret crannies...a place for me to explore and discover what is around every corner, tucked into every fold of our shared humanity as thinking, sexual beings. And if it doesn't work for you...good luck in your search...

Blah, blah, blah...I am just another horny goofball, wanting to spill a little essence in a place somewhat safer than my webpage, my MySpace, my journals which are accessible to people who may not want to read my opinion of whether or not their ass is just perfect or whether their little sister came on to me at their cousin's wedding, whether their wife calls late at night to talk dirty to me because they are too focused on ESPN or the Bloomberg ticker.

Of course, I want to hear your feedback. FInd out your perversions. Read your beautiful descriptions of your conquests, conundrums and cornucopias of twisted vision. I don't want to meet you in public, know your real name, see pics of your cats. I have other places to do all of that. I dig Match and MySpace and more to the point THE REAL WORLD OUT THERE. But sometimes, as someone who has kept journals for more years than I'd like to admit, I love writing about my dreams, my fantasies, my sexual encounters. It gets me off to be sharing details with people I will never meet. Just as seeing a naked stranger at a nude beach, or watching two lovers kiss in an elevator or sneaking into a peep booth to watch a woman you've never seen before finger herself behind the glass...seeking chances to put ourselves into other peoples lives, or what we invision as their lives, without all of the risk, the daily questioning, the ups, downs and humiliations of "playing the game" of real world existence.

Here, as in our dreams, we can be anyone we like. No harm, no foul.

So here's that disclaimer: If you don't want to read about sexual behaviour, sexual situations, graphic language, fantasy and role-playing then please exit now and don't come back.

This is a semi-fictional fictional blog with certain occasional situations and characters based on composites of various real persons and events from my life. No real names and few identifying characteristics will be used in these scenarios. On rare occasions a historical figure from the public record may appear sporadically in semi-fictional or quoted form.
Once again, this is new to me so if you find this kind of thing appealing, come back and see how things expand. I have a tumescent imagination and some people of interest you may like explore with me... stick around. It may get sticky in here...

My goal, of course, is to find out more about me. What makes me tick. It is a life long process and one that I have been dabbling in for years but have only recently realized that it is truly ALL we really do in life. We just disguise what we find and fuzz its focus so we can skirt all of the real and sometime difficult issues that we may unearth when that mirror is turned on us in some blazing light. Then again, seeing all the cracks, fissures, eruptions and beauty in one's own reflection makes for some epiphanal revelations of character, purpose, compassion and enlightenment into our shared human condition and just how insanely sane we all really are. It ain't why, it just is.

Embracing the moment is the only truth we can really know. The difficulty is in its full embrace. Not leaning on old constructs, ancient, in-bred sympathies and prejudices and fears against the emotions that truth can bring forth. I first glimpsed the fringes of this in the arms of a new lover where while entwined in panicky lust I felt everything I've ever held true to come into question by the sheer falling away of all time and place...

topics to come: SEX AND GOD
SEX AND GREED
THE NEW LEASH (sic) ON LIFE
STOP IT SOME MORE

BE RESTS
AUTO AUTO EROTICA
SEX QUESTIONNAIRE
to be continued...