Mile High Club!
Most of the travelers were asleep or too preoccupied with their screens to notice anything else.
He sat beside me, his thigh pressed tight against mine. There was something about the way he was sitting so casual, yet taking so much space, that made my pulse tick up a notch. He had this way for getting me hot without even trying, and tonight this long flight was not an exception
“You look tense,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.
I turned my head slightly, seeing the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Airplane seats aren’t really a spa experience.”
His eyes glinted with fun as he laughed softly “I could help with that.”
He wanted me. I knew that tone, those words, never a bad time. My breath hitched as his hand slipped under the thin blanket draped over our laps. The warmth of his palm settled on my thigh, fingers splaying wide. I swallowed hard, my skin shaking with anticipation.
“Babe,” I whispered, a warning I didn’t really mean.
“Mmm?” He hummed slowly, rubbing circles over the fabric of my leggings. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
We both knew I wasn’t going to say it.
My head tilted back against the seat as his fingers brushed higher, touching the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I bit my lip, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The cabin noise swallowed the soft whimper that escaped me, but he heard it. His lips curved into a wicked grin.
“You’re already wet, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
Heat flooded my face, but I didn’t deny it. His fingers pressed against me through the thin barrier of fabric, and I clenched my fists, struggling to keep still.
“Good girl,” he praised softly, his breath hot against my ear.
My hips jerked up on its own, craving more of his touch. I turned toward him, my lips crashing into his, acting on the wet heat he was building inside me. The kiss was messy, but urgent, our mouths molding in all of our teeth and tongue.
He groaned into my mouth, his free hand cupping the back of my neck as he deepened the kiss. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his hoodie. Every stroke of his tongue against mine made my control falter.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he muttered against my lips.
I gasped as his fingers finally found their way under the waistband of my leggings, brushing against wet, sensitive skin. My body trembled under his touch, my thighs closing around his hand.
“Quiet now,” he whispered, his tone teasing. “Unless you want the whole plane to know how good I’m making you feel.”
I gripped the armrest, trying to steady myself, but the sexiness of this situation made it impossible to think clearly. His fingers teased me, slipping through my wet pussy, slow and experienced, as if he had all the time in the world.
“Already soaked,” he whispered against my ear.
His fingers slid inside me, the stretch hot and full. He moved carefully at first, pumping slowly, testing my control. My body clenched around his fingers, desperate for more. The rhythm he set made my head fall back against the seat, my thighs trembling under the blanket.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, his lips grazing my jaw. “So tight and perfect for me.”
I bit down on a gasp as his thumb brushed a sensitive spot, sending a shock of pleasure through me. My hips rocked against his hand, reaching for every touch and thrust of his fingers.
“Careful,” he warned, his voice teasing. “Wouldn’t want anyone noticing, would we?”
I bit my lip to stifle a moan. My nails dug into his arm, desperate to ground myself against the pleasure building deep inside me.
Then his thumb pressed against my clit, circling it. My hand, desperate to return the favor, slid down between us, finding the hard length straining against his jeans. He hissed through his teeth as I cupped him, my fingers tracing the outline of his hard on.
“Fuck, babe,” he growled, his voice thick with need.
I smirked, confident by the raw edge in his voice. “Quiet now,” I mimicked him, “unless you want them to know how much you like this.”
His laugh was low and dangerous. “You’re impossible”
“Maybe I like it,” I shot back, my hand jerking him through the denim. I unzipped his jeans and slid my hand inside, finding him hot and hard under the rough denim. I stroked him slowly at first. His head fell back against the seat, jaw clenched tight.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re gonna make me lose it,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure.
“Good,” I whispered breathlessly, my lips brushing the corner of his mouth. “I’m so close too.” I whimpered and gripped his dick harder, moving my hand harder. my thumb brushed over the tip of his length. His fingers pumped in my pussy harder, his thumb rubbing my clit as I jerked him off kissing him. our hands fasten in sloppy movements. I feel my legs shaking, arching my back as I hit my orgasm, biting down on his bottom lip. as i come down from my high i feel a wetness over my hand telling me he orgasmed too.
His breathing turned ragged, his hips bucking subtly into my hand. The hum of the plane slowly crept back into focus, grounding us.
He pressed a lazy kiss to my temple, his voice low and amused. “Trouble,” he murmured.
I grinned, breathless and entirely unrepentant. “You love it.”
Mile-High Club is probably one of the most daring, legendary goals of the adventurous couples. It’s whispered about in late-night conversations, joked about in rom-coms, and probably on the “never mention this to your mother-in-law” list. But let’s be honest: the thought of getting frisky at 30,000 feet does have a certain charm, doesn’t it?
First things first, no one wants to be dragged off the plane in handcuffs (well, some people might, but that’s a whole different vibe). While there’s no universal law against getting horny mid-flight, indecent exposure is a no-go. So, keep it under wraps (or blankets) unless you want to make the news for all the wrong reasons. Turbulence can either ruin the mood or add a thrill. Pro tip: If the seatbelt sign lights up, maybe rethink your timing unless you’re auditioning for a role in a rom-com gone wrong. Airplane hums are not your friend. Whisper sweet praises, but keep it PG-13 kid friendly when flight attendants pass by. No one wants to hear, “Take me now, daddy!” echoing through the cabin. The golden rule is this: Be discreet, respectful, and aware of your surroundings. Oh, and maybe avoid flights with a high number of families and toddlers, unless you enjoy the judgmental stares of PTA moms. Read the room people.
The Mile-High Club isn’t for everyone, it’s messy, risky, and requires a lot of coordination. But for couples looking to spice up their relationship, it’s a story you’ll laugh about for years to come.
Pack your sense of adventure (and maybe some hand sanitizer), and remember: love, sex and orgasms truly knows no height limits.
