I’m Charlie, a veteran pilot for a major international airline that shall remain nameless for reasons you’ll soon come to understand.
A year ago, while waiting for my flight to London in the airline’s lounge at one of America’s largest hubs, I discovered a special and highly personal journal among my belongings. How it happened, I’ll never know, but the beautiful brown leather notebook nonetheless appeared in my carry-on at some point between the time I left my New York penthouse apartment and arrived at the airport lounge.
Perhaps it was a mix-up at security, or some devious stewardess with sly hand skills, but I’ve since become obsessed with the person who wrote that diary, her stories, and—to be blunt—her unconventional sex life.
My best friend—let’s call him Bob—is one of my regular co-pilots. Bob advised me to forget about the journal and ignore my hunch to track down its rightful owner. After my initial reading of her hand-written accounts, the part of me who’s loyal to the airline and wants the best for our passengers certainly needed to find that stewardess and expel her from our company—or whatever airline she’s with. This woman is surely a threat to any crew with her irreverent disregard for our uniforms, her sexual behavior with passengers and airline employees, and the way she ignores regulations. She should clearly be punished for her conduct…
But after reading and re-reading each one of her journal entries, another, more animal part of me has grown fond of her complete lack of boundaries, her willingness to experiment, and her ravenous sexual appetite.
I’ve had my fair share of illicit affairs with female flight attendants and co-pilots, but none of them were interesting enough to be granted a second fuck by yours truly, let alone be courted or considered for a long-term relationship. But the woman who’s filled so many pages with delicate calligraphy and salacious words deserves my full attention. She’s certainly maintained it well past the time I closed the cover of her journal—again and again.
Imagining how her naiveté was gradually—and most willingly—robbed from her was simply… enthralling. She’s been haunting my wet dreams.
Now, every time I see an unknown stewardess, I wonder if she’s the one.
After many conversations with Bob over the past months during our overseas flights, I’ve come to share some of her journal entries with him. He agrees that I need to locate her. If not for the airline’s sake or to satisfy my personal curiosity, then for the mere reason that I could stop obsessing about her and resume paying attention to my actual job: piloting giant aircrafts and safely getting passengers from point A to point B.
The following short stories record my obsession toward her. There are ten in total. Each installment contains my mystery stewardess’s original journal entries for a specific location, followed by my own experiences in trying to track her down. You’ll discover what (and whom) I did in an effort to identify and locate my stewardess based on the clues she’s left in her diary. You can read the episodes in any order, but they’ll probably make more sense if you start from the beginning and follow along as I attempt to find her.
And, just to be clear, these stories should not land in the hands of any prude or underage person. Some are just romantic, sensual, or highly erotic, while others are immoral, perverse, and possibly even illegal in some parts of the world.
Ah, the things I’ll do to this mystery stewardess when I finally encounter her in the flesh!
I’m hard just thinking about it…
The Stewardess’s Diary – 2.29 a.m.
At last, I got to take a break from walking up and down the aisle. Most of the passengers in economy class were asleep and giving their service button a break. Most except for a workaholic in 8A and a musty-mustached man in 14D who kept winking at me.
How stupid was I to wear brand new heels on a red-eye flight? My feet and legs are killing me! If I don’t have blisters yet, they’re coming. That’s for sure.
But these black babies look fantastic and I enjoy being a little taller.
Maybe I shouldn’t have bought into the marketing hype, but high heels did make me feel sexier… and happier. And after my disastrous weekend getaway with Stupid-Self-Centered-Sam, I needed to take any emotional, mental, or shoe-related compensation I could get.
My sense of self-worth had to rise from this muddy bottom, and it had recently gone up by exactly three inches.
Musty-Mustached-Man-in-14D suggested (for the second time) that his ticket included entry to the mile-high club.
It was the only part of the job I didn’t like.
Having a hottie flirt with me was always enjoyable, of course. But being hit on by a man who physically grossed me out and made me want to Febreze the heck out of the entire plane… Forcing myself to be polite and smile at him was just…
But thankfully, Alex, a tall red-headed stewardess I’d flown with before, graciously took him off my hands a minute ago.
I stayed within earshot while she chit-chatted with him.
Her exact words were impossible to recall, but she was nice and thoughtful. She certainly knew how to serve shit on a tray with a smile. She even got thanked for it.
I headed toward the back of the plane, a large smile on my face, shaking my head.
“Alex, I owe you one,” I told her when she joined me back in the galley.
“No worries. I know how to handle those guys,” she said. Alex lifted her eyebrows before continuing. “Not to toot my own horn, but I know how to manipulate most men to get what I want.”
I busied myself seeing if there was trash or empty water bottles to get rid of, but my thoughts kept spinning back to Self-Centered-Sam.
“If only I had your ways with men,” I told Alex. “Maybe I wouldn’t be stuck spending my next over-nighter alone in a hotel room.”
“Stop whining and move on with your life,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“But I thought he was the right guy for me. I liked him. I actually thought we were going somewhere, you know?”
Her big green eyes wide open, Alex stayed motionless for a second before shaking her head. She sipped more of her coffee, staring down the aisle, then at me. She sighed, shook her head again, then finally spoke. “What the heck happened? You might as well get it off your chest.”
“I don’t know,” I said, mentally debating whether talking about it would help or make things worse.
“Come on,” she persisted in-between sips. “Might as well pour your little heart out because I’ll never ask about your love life again. You know me.” Alex paused, raised her palm as if to stop the words she’d just let out, and then continued. “I’ll never ask about your romantic life, but I reserve the right to ask about your sexual adventures.”
I could feel my cheeks flush.
Talk about my sex life with her?
Then again, I needed to vent. Plus, we had a few hours to kill before landing.
She nudged me, her eyebrows raised, then walked away for a second to get rid of her empty coffee cup.
My inner debate continued, with logic taking the upper hand over my shyness and need for privacy.
Alex has politely offered her kind ear. It’s now or never. Who knows? Maybe she can help me understand where I went wrong?
She came back and leaned against the bulkhead, her eyes locked on me.
“I don’t even know where to begin…” I started, then let out a long breath. How can I summarize it all? “To make a long story short—”
She flicked her fingers against my shoulder. “No way. I want all the details. Especially the juicy bits.”
“Not sure about that. We’ll see. It all started when we arrived at the campground near Banff.”
“Which one?” she asked.
“You’ve probably never heard of it. It’s not even posted on any of the maps I’ve seen.”
She tilted her head. “Try me.”
“Slanted Pine Roads, I think.”
Alex twisted her face for a second.
Is she trying to pinpoint that campsite on the map of her mental atlas?
“You’re right: no idea. Never heard of that one. Continue.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. Sam knew where it was, so he headed directly to the little building at the entrance so he could check in and pay for one of the sites where his pickup truck would fit.”
“You guys weren’t camping in an RV?”
“No, just the back of his truck. Believe me, I’d have preferred a tent. At least the ground wouldn’t have been so hard. Anyway, he stayed in there for a few minutes. I remained outside and hung around the truck, trying to get cellphone reception—which was impossible. He finally walked out of the building and returned to our vehicle, then we drove and parked at one of the campsites. There weren’t many. Maybe twenty-five or so—”
“But please tell me there were showers, right? Regular toilets and showers with running water?”
“Of course. He knew better than to take me camping without the basic necessities. He was an ass in many ways, but he was still a gentleman… Well, at that point he hadn’t proven otherwise yet.”
“So, what happened?”
I stopped as I noticed a tired-looking passenger walking toward us. Probably wants to use the bathroom at the back of the plane.
Alex frowned, her palms flipped upward in a silent WTF. I pointed my chin at the man.
She turned around. “Ah,” she said.
We stayed quiet for a couple of minutes. Out of boredom, I yet again tidied up the food preparation area.
A loud flushing sound echoed from the nearby toilet, and I waited for the passenger to exit and return to his seat, out of earshot, before finally continuing. “So, it was all fine and good. We went for a walk around the site. It was nice. The smell of the forest, the quietness of it all, the chirping sounds and everything… We hiked up some random path. Must have been on it for about an hour before we reached a small river. Beautiful, but holy cow was the water cold!”
“You swam in it?”
“Hell no! But Sam did. I don’t know why. Anyway, after he came out, he was freezing. Obviously. So I… warmed him up again,” I said, tilting my head to the side.
“I said I wanted to hear all the juicy bits,” she whispered, although her expression was silently yelling at me, ordering me to divulge everything.
I popped my eyes at her. “I promise to give you some, the important ones, but let’s just say that we had a… quickie by the river and some body heat got transferred where it mattered.”
“Seriously, you’ve got to work on that. If that’s as exciting as your story gets, I don’t want to hear any more.”
“Alex, just be patient!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone. “So, about an hour and a half later, we were back in the truck. It was already getting pretty cool by then. He told me he was going to start a fire, so I got changed into my jeans and sweater. He said he was heading out to buy a pack of logs. That was all fine and good. The chilly mountain air was getting to me, so after waiting for him for what felt like an eternity—or at least thirty minutes—I made my way to the reception building to see what was taking him so long. I walked in on him flirting with a cute twenty-something girl wearing a large sweater and possibly shorts, although I couldn’t tell. Long legs, wool socks, and hiking boots were all I could see. I guess she was the campsite employee.”
“Ooh la la!” Alex said.
“Yes. I think that’s when our romantic getaway took a left turn. I greeted them both. He picked up the stack of fire wood and said he’d be right out, but I saw him lean toward her and whisper something in her ear. I should have known something was up, but I didn’t want to see it. Anyway, we headed back to our campsite together. He then carried on explaining himself. Telling me some bullshit about how they grew up in the same town.”
“What? In Canada?”
“Yeah! I thought he was American. Tells you how much I knew about him. Not that his nationality mattered, but I simply didn’t know anything about this guy. So we started drinking beer (he had brought a cooler full). He got busy cooking potatoes and steaks on the fire. That girl from the registration building kept patrolling around the path that connected all campsites. Every time she drove by in her pickup truck, she’d smile and wave at us, although I suspected she mostly waved at him.”
“So… Are you telling me that smiles and hand gestures were the only things that happened? That’s lame.”
“No, no! Patience, Alex. Don’t get your panties in a big wet knot! So, we were cuddling by the fire, trying to stay warm, but I was exhausted and wanted to go to bed. We moved to the back of his truck, made love, then I fell asleep.”
“Why am I listening to you? You don’t stand a chance in Top-Sexy-Weekend contenders. You must be boring as hell in the sack.”
Who is she to insinuate what I’m like in bed?
I did my best to ignore her insult and continued with my story. “That night was pretty dull. Had to stick to missionary position so the truck wouldn’t rock too much and bother nearby campers. I woke up a little later and realized he wasn’t in his sleeping bag. So, since I had to pee anyway—those nights are damn cool in the mountains—I put on a sweater and jeans and headed out of the truck. My eyes took a second to acclimate to the dark night sky, but then a cloud moved out of the way and the full moon lit my path. I was heading toward the bathroom when I noticed the campground vehicle a few feet from our site, on the main path. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, except that it was moving… to a certain cadence, if you catch my drift.”
“Someone was fucking the campsite employee in there?” Alex asked, looking like saliva was about to come out of her mouth.
“Yeah. So, putting two and two together, Sam not being asleep next to me and the rocking motion of the pickup truck… I felt an urge to go and see. The windows were fogged up and a woman’s moans were becoming less and less discreet. Then a hand reached toward the window and landed flat on it before slowly dropping down, clearing enough of the condensation and letting enough moonlight in for me to see inside.”
Alex’s green eyes were glued on me. “And?” she asked.
“It was the campsite employee alright, and I would have recognized that tight ass and left-slanted cock in any line-up. It was my Sam, going at her, just a few feet from where he’d left me to sleep after making love to me.”
“Oh no! What did you do?”
“What do you think I did?”
“Oooh!” A large grin appeared on Alex’s face. Her eyes had never been rounder. “You slammed a baseball bat on the windshield? Smashed the head lights? Did you call her supervisor? Oh, I know! You did something much, much better…” She paused and grabbed me by the arm before whispering her last guess in my ear. “Did you join them?”
I pulled away from her and shook my head. “What’s wrong with you?”
A throat-clearing sound made me turn around. A teenage kid was standing there, wanting some water. Based on his glazed-over eyes, he hadn’t heard a word of what I’d been saying. Good.
I grabbed a plastic glass and filled it with water, then handed it to him. “Here you go, dear,” I said, and then waited until he was seated again to turn and look at Alex once more.
“No. None of that,” I answered. “I went back to the truck and pretended to be sleeping when he snuck back in.”
She flipped her hands up. “Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I was upset. I was really upset—and I still am to be honest—but I needed to first process the information in my head before confronting him. I don’t believe we need to dramatize everything.”
“Well, your life would be a lot more interesting, at least sexually speaking, if you were a bit more dramatic—”
A light sound chimed in the galley, indicating that someone had pressed the service button. I used it as my cue to walk away from Alex and her uncomfortable statements for a minute.
Would my sexual life be more exciting with more drama?