I frowned at my ticket when I saw the seat assignment. It’ll be fine, I told myself, but still my shoulders were tense and my mood dark as I went through security.
The flight was long, almost eight hours from Chicago to London, and I’d been hoping to sleep through the red-eye to reset my clock. For once, I was glad my much yearned for growth spurt had never come. At 28, I still stood 5′4″ and thin as a rail, which was great for fitting in a claustrophobic plane seat but terrible for buying a drink at the airport bar without getting carded.
I was dizzy by the time I stood after my second glass of white, unsteady as I made my way to my gate. I slumped into a chair and scoped out the crowd, anxiously wondering which two of my fellow passengers I’d be stuck between. There was no shortage of towering men in dark suits with graying hair, not that it took much to seem tall to me, but I was never that lucky.
I pulled on my noise-canceling headphones and waited, watching line after line of eager travelers board before me. I was in no hurry.
My legs were a little steadier by the time I stood again, but still I swayed as I walked onto the plane. 26B, I looked at my ticket to check my seat again, somehow hoping I’d misread it before. My spine stiffened with every step as I came to the moment of truth.
As I came close, I stopped so fast that the man behind nearly bowled over me. I saw two of the men from the gate speaking animatedly over the gap seat I was about to fill. They could have been brothers, with broad shoulders under dark gray suits and thick heads of hair hair cut short. They had twinned firm jawlines and weathered faces, with bold eyes—blue by the window and green by the aisle. The impatient man behind me gave me a shove forward so hard I nearly fell into my neighbor’s lap as I muttered an apology.
The man grabbed my shoulder to steady me. “I can get out,” he offered with a smile, our faces parted by sparse inches.
“It’s ok,” I said quietly with a wave of my hand as I struggled to step over his long legs, ending up nearly sitting astride them.
From the window, the other man chuckled, “We’re not even off the ground and you already have a boy in your lap?” He gently pushed my planted foot and sent me tumbling forward against the man’s firm, warm chest.
My face buried itself at the top of his button-down shirt as my slender legs squeezed around his powerful thighs. I caught myself too late, planting my hands on his belly and inadvertently feeling its curve through his shirt. I stammered sorries, sucking in air rich with the masculine scent wafting from his hairy chest straight into my nostrils. I stiffened in my trousers, but felt immediately dwarfed when an enormous shaft strained against me up from the man’s crotch.
With hands on my hips, he lifted me back to my feet. He smiled sheepishly and I blushed crimson. “Sorry,” he whispered before turning to his companion and growling, “Don’t be an asshole.” He helped me step over him and finally fall into my seat.
“It doesn’t look like you minded,” the man by the window teased both of us as he offered me his hand in introduction. “I’m Brian, and this is my partner, David.”
“Eric,” I replied in a small voice, still rattled by the brief feeling of that massive manhood. When I looked over at David, he had his arms crossed low over his lap, but it was still hard to miss the tent pitched in his pants. “You guys don’t want to sit next to each other?”
“It’d be a bit of a tight fit, unfortunately,” David offered, demonstratively knocking his knees against the seat in front of him.
“Besides,” Brian added, “I get the sense you wouldn’t mind spending a night between us.”
“Jesus, Brian,” David rolled his eyes, “you’re going to scare the kid.”
“I’m fine,” I protested, “And I’m not a kid.”
Brian wrapped a burly arm around my shoulder and squeezed me against his expansive chest, spilling over the divider between our seats, and said, “You are fine, but what are you, 19-years-old?”
“No, I’m 28,” I corrected.
David reached over me to tousle Brian’s hair as he said, “This old man is turning 50 this week.”
Brian squeezed me hard and whispered in my ear, “I can’t wait to unwrap my first present.”
He uncoupled from me and we chatted a bit as the cabin door closed and the plane made its way to the runway. They both lived in Chicago, not far from me. Brian was a lawyer and David an investment banker. I told them about the marketing work I was doing in London for the week. It was all friendly, but there was an aggressive edge to every sentence, a needy urgency to get close to each other. I wanted nothing more than to feel that massive cock between my fingers.
When the plane lifted off the ground, we sat back. Their thick arms filled the dividers and spilled into my space and they both sat with legs splayed wide. As we sat there, I was pinned between the two men as they relaxed into their seats. The smell of their bodies filled my air and mixed with the wine to heighten my intoxication.
As we sat in silence, just the roar of wind on the plane around us, I slowly, gently snaked my hand behind Brian’s elbow. He eased his arm forward to give me room. I slid my hungry fingers under his suit jacket and then down under his belt and into a pair of boxers. He was soft and squishy, but enormously long and girthy, when I squeezed my fingers around him. We sat in still silence as I stealthy stroked him to his fullness.
David grabbed my other hand and guided it along the same path. My fingers trembled a bit as I stared out at the aisle. The flight attendants were still seated for takeoff, but any number of passengers might turn their heads at any moment. Still, David was relentless and brought my fingers down around his still-hard cock.
I was in heaven, and though they looked placid, I could feel the subtle squirming of their excitement and the thick liquid gushing from their cocks and lubricating my fingers. It barely felt like a moment had passed before a flight attendant whisked by and I froze with my hands stuffed down two men’s pants. It would have been hard to notice with the way we were positioned, but still. I tried to pull back, but neither man would let my hand escape, grabbing me by the wrist and holding me there.
“No one will notice,” Brian turned to whisper in my ear, hot breath wafting down over me.
“And soon they’ll turn the lights out,” David leaned down to add. “And we’ll be able to have some real fun.”
I didn’t get much sleep on that red-eye.
