Updated: May 3, 2020
The PA clicked on: “Now boarding flight 743 to Cancun, please come to Gate 2 with…” There I was: at the airport chilling with none other than Casper and friends: Enter Fatso, Stinky and Stretch. And Christine, obviously. “Yo, this is gonna be wild!” Stretch announced, grabbing his duffel bag with the dopiest smile slapped on his face. “Cancun, Cancun, Cancun!” Fatso fisted the air. “We’re not staying in Cancun, dumbass,” Christine chimed in. “Aye Clumsy, do you have your ticket?” She was referring to me. I rolled my eyes. “YeS I dO.” I replied, sarcastically. Realistically? I’m always misplacing my shit.
Casper text me less than a month ago about Día de Muertos. He then instructed me to watch Dark Tourist asked me to then tell him if I’m down. My reply? "I’ve seen it, and fuck yea! Let’s do this!" And so our Mexican-Halloween trip was booked.
Stinky’s family (by the way, he totally doesn’t stink. Actually he’s pretty hot…) had bought real estate a short drive from this beautiful cemetery which conveniently held a huge Day of the Dead gathering. “It can get pretty spooky the deeper you go in, so we should stick together,” Stinky warned, as the seatbelt signal dinged off. “Chill Scooby Doo, we’ll be fine.” Casper trolled. He lowered his voice for only me to hear, “but... you’ll kick their ass if they anyone attacks me, right?” “Yes. I’ll use my white-girl-voodoo on them.” I joked. He then shot me this look; squaring his eyes and brows while smiling to the side. Whatever face it was, he looked sexy as fuck doing it. The area soon quieted and everyone kept to themselves: napping or glued to a magazine, sipping their drinks, eating airplane snacks… That is, except for Casper and I. We sat at the back of the plane whispering back and forth, and barely containing our hushed laughter. Thankfully no one seemed to mind our semi-childish behaviour. “Our night in Niagara was pretty hot, Kitty.” “Ho ma gad, you haven’t called me that in ages.” I replied, swallowing a sip of coffee harder than expected. “You remember how that started, right?” “Yup. We were all watching That 70’s Show, and while Red yelled for Kitty, you yelled for me, and found Kitty Kat hilarious for reasons still unknown.” “Good memory,” he laughed, “we should fuck.” I nearly choked on my coffee again. “W-what?!” “Mile-High Club?” Fuck it. “Ok.” He gently tugged my sweater and mouthed “follow me”. I most definitely did.
The toilets were at the back, and since everyone was facing forward, he graciously snuck us in, and without an ounce of doubt in his action. I always found his spontaneity to be his most attractive quality. The washroom was loud, small, and incredibly tight -especially with the two of us inside.
He quickly flipped the seat cover down and sat, unzipping himself free of jeans. “Take those off and place your feet back here.” “Oooo, yes Daddy.” I kicked off my tights and straddled him as directed. I secretly thanked the Airline Gods for blessing him with a cock long and strong enough to manage this quickie. Maintaining my balance by pressing my hands against the walls alongside of us, I hopped on his dick until my hamstrings burned, and my pussy drained all over his balls. He helped by squeezing my ass tightly, pumping me up and down on him. The turbulence made it all the while better. We came at the same time. Our cum slowly oozed out of me and I thanked the Airline Gods again, this time for blessing me with an IUD. He slowly snuck out and I stayed behind to quickly wash up -a task I’m sure most Mile-High ladies would agree could only gracefully accomplished by acrobats and day-one gymnast. The struggle was real!
Back at my seat I leaned into Casper and noted, “you had been quite prepared for this quickie, I must say…” “I Googled how to before we boarded.” He quickly admitted, looking forward. I broke out in tears of hands-over-mouth laughter for a good 5 minutes before the pilot announced our decent. “Mexico here we come!” Stretch exclaimed, waking from his nap. This is certainly going to be fun…