It’s no secret that Las Vegas, Nevada is an overplayed bachelorette destination. But, that is precisely where I’m taking my girls. Not one of us has ever been there, and well, I plan to make it memorable even if it lacks creativity. There is seven of us making the trip. Our stay will be at The Venetian, one of the better known hotels in Vegas. I’m looking for an old world charm in a place where sin leads to heavenly creations. I understand that the financial impact will be costly, but I don’t care. This event has been in the works for two years, and now that is time to have it. I want it to be where I want it to be, cost me even a slap on the face. So, The Venetian it is.
It’s May 29th, the day of our flight, and the party has already started. The stretch limo sounds like a chicken coop with the compiled voices of seven excited woman reverberating throughout. I’m trying to leave all the creativity for Vegas, but this skimpy bridal gown doesn’t exactly scream prudence. I have a feeling that I’ve started something that I just won’t regret doing. My girlfriends are the coolest bunch of accomplices anyone could ever encounter. So, we’ve all purchased trashable-mobile-phones that can only be used for texting, and phone calls. There will be no capturing of graphical memories from the “hen night”.
Mid way through to the airport, most of my companions are mildly under the influence of B52s, though I think the shots have been mostly kahlúa. I am not drinking, my wit is as sane and alert as it can be. I don’t want to miss a second of this here journey. Upon arrival at the airport we are rushed to the terminal because the plane just happens to be waiting for, specifically, our party. I think we might have been running a few minutes late. Our suitcases are checked for proper safety, then brought to the gate with us. Someone takes them from the plane door of the Boeing 747 to load in the cargo section. He’s very cute. Had I me hands on him…
We board the plane, find our seats right on the “business class” front area of the plane. I’m row A, seat 2. I want to be on the isle, looking forward to check the cockpit. I’m a fanatic of planes and purposely selected A2 so that I can try to view the flight from where I’ll be seated if the cockpit door is left open. I’m more excited about the possibility of being allowed in there than I am about the bachelorette party.
Emergency instructions are presented to the passengers, the plane takes off, it levels out, I am ready for the five hour flight. The crew welcomes our party, and congratulates me. We are served more drinks as if needed. I take my drink, but leave it untouched on the tray. I am just too excitement about being so close to the front of the plane that I can’t concentrate on anything other than the thought of the door to the front-control room opening. I can hear my girlfriends chit chatting about the plans for the first few days. I’m glad they are here to worry about all of it for me. I am mostly concerned about making the view from the cockpit memorable, the rest I hope is a blur.
A quarter of the way in to the flight a few of my girlfriends are already asleep, those awake are rowdy enough that the crew members need to settle them down. The captain comes out to greet the passengers. He notifies the cabin that the door to the front will be open for sometime, anyone wishing to view the front is welcomed. I wait quite a while, no one comes up to the front. I presume that not everyone appreciates planes as I do.
I’m apprehensive about coming to the front, so I take the drink that’s been sitting on the tray and gulp it. It’s encouraged me to stand up and head towards the cabin, I knock outside the door, the flight attendant sees me and comes over. I inform her of my obsession with planes and that I would like to view the goodies piloting the plane. She tells me to wait that she’ll inform the captain. Soon enough I’m looking at the sky ahead of us, the captain welcomes me aboard. We exchange small talk about my plans in Vegas, my chosen dress for the flight, and the controls all over the cockpit. I’m as excited as a teenage girl attending her first dance. He stands up from his chair and asks me to please sit down and “take” the controls. I’m jumping about like I’ve won some sort of price.
The two other “pilots”, the first, and the second officer look at the captain in disagreement. But, I still sit, put my hands on the controls and instantly become saturated with lust. I would have exploded were I not a human being. I clench my legs, tightly closing my thighs as if it could help prevent further desire from seeping out of me. I’m uncharacteristically shy, I feel that if I get off from the seat, spots of my reaction from touching the sidestick controllers will reveal my wants.
I look back at the captain, he notifies me that it’s time to return to the cabin. I take a deep breath, stand up, quickly look down at the seat and sigh in relief. There is nothing to divulge that being in the front of the plane aroused me. The captain grabs my hand, and leads me towards the entrance to the cabin. Before we arrive at the door, I stop, look back at him and tell him that I’ll be at the Venetian in Vegas. He takes down my information and tells me he’ll meet me there. He escorts me to my seat, kisses my hand goodbye and returns to his duties.
Minutes after, and a few drinks to feel daring, I head over to the cockpit again. The flight attendant fetches the captain, he greets me outside where we engaged in flirtatious dialog, after-which he leads me inside the cockpit. I close the door behind us, and quickly remove the skirt from my “wedding” gown. He stares me down in deep thought, then walks to the front, delegates flying duties to the first officer and walks back to me. I push him against the wall next to the second officer and kiss him. I go for his belt, but he holds me back to unbuckle it himself. He slips out and I grab it with my right hand while using my left to place his right hand on my bottom.
I jerk him slowly. I’m an addict for the feel details on a manhood; I can spend hours caressing the engorged body. The first officer puts the plane on auto and stands up to have a view of us. I’m kissing and stroking… “I bet the two officers are staring at my buttocks”, I think to myself. The daring tease, even if shy, I am. I turn my back to the captain, slide his penis between my inner thighs and hold tightly to my crotch. I grab my undies, push it to the side, stare down the gentlemen looking at me and grind my crotch on the captain’s manhood.
The captain tries to insert it in, but I say: “no, no, not now.” I continue to slap my buttocks against his pelvis secreting on him. Down below at my crotch his head peeking out is visible. I reach down for it, push the head up and slip it inside of me only to jump off of instantly. I turn face to face, squat down and put him in my mouth. His hands reach for my face, but I slap them away. I’m the only one controlling how much “richard” goes in my mouth. I play around with the head sucking the sides and running my tongue on the tip while my hand pulls back the skin on the shaft to ensure I see, and suck all I can on the tip.
I’ve always found it meritable when sucking a sizable man to self sooth; my left hand reaches down, I pull apart the lips with my thumb, and index finger and proceed to rub my clitoris. The plane hits a single disturbance and it goes deep into my mouth. But, I don’t gag. I lost those reflexes long ago before this very moment. Even the unintentional shoving into my mouth goes unnoticed. I retrieve him, look up at the captain and slap his penis against my lips.
“Captain, care to share?”, I ask of him.
There wasn’t a need for a response, both horny fellows zipped down and quickly. They were much more to write about than was the captain. So much so that I debated trading partners. I wish I didn’t have to bypass them, but the captain, well, I did enjoy his size. In time of need, beggars can’t be choosers. I place the “Cappy” back in my mouth, grab each boy with each hand to jerk them. Have you ever had a feel of three men? One on each hand? The other in your mouth? You should try it. It’s less of what you think it is, and more of what you don’t think.
I’m versed enough swallowing whole that I can look to the sides to check how the fellows are responding to my hands. They are enjoying it, but not enough. So, I release “Cappy” grab the fellow to the left and gobble him for a few mouth fills, likewise I do to the follow to my right. Were I more daring I’d want to swallow the outcome of this venture from all three of them. Yet, I’m here to feel “Cappy” inside of me. I turn around to give him my back. He is allowed to go inside of me to fulfill his whim. He grabs my hips with both hands and slows in entry until his pelvis meets my buttocks.
His body slops against me increasingly harder making it difficult to stroke the officers. He slams against me, bouncing my body about as if going through turbulence. It’s much a joy, the sound of clashing bodies, the sound of wet vulva against a penis, the sound of jet engines flying at over five hundred miles per hour, and the sound of making the three of men enjoy me. It would make anyone lust into climax. “Officers”, I say. “I’m going to turn around, you can remove my underwear. I’m going to lean, spread my legs, put my hands against the wall, and you will finish, all three of you, wherever you desire. Smack your penises against me. Let me feel them hit my vagina. Don’t forget that the ass, too! It wants to reach sin city covered in prayers. I’ll return to my seat counting my blessings, leave the prayers written on my skin so that I may read them and smile about what you’ve done.”