Los Angeles to Paris, a ten and a half hour overnight flight; I've done it maybe a dozen times now, and believe me, the glamour and fun is long gone. Working for an international software company based in California, I was project manager to establish our European market, and Paris was the base of operations. With a doctorate in software development and a six figure salary, I could write my own ticket, but this job gave me the independence and fringe benefits to make my life quite comfortable, except for the travel requirements. At 35 years of age, with a wife and toddler at home, I would have thought I'd be more grounded by now.

But the home office in California was state of the art, with every convenience just steps away. My favorite was the state of the art gym and pool. Each day, I got to work early, headed for the gym for a good 40 minute workout followed by laps in the pool. I relaxed in the sauna before getting into my work outfit - jeans and a polo shirt. Before I dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror and reflected on my progress. Having been active in college swimming and running, I was able to hone my figure into a nice slim yet muscular firm physique. My shaggy brown hair was still nice and thick, unlike some of my colleagues who either began to show traces of gray or had thinning hair. I had a nice patch of short brown hair across my chest which I liked to keep trimmed. I wanted to be able to show off my six-pack abs which I had worked so hard to achieve and maintain. And I was most happy finally getting that V-line of muscle above my hips which pointed to my treasure trail. Sometimes when I wore a brief bathing suit, I would trace that V-line with my fingers right down to my cock. I love getting hard in a tight swim suit. My cock of course is probably average; maybe 7 ½ or almost 8 inches cut, on a good day, with trimmed pubes of course. I moved one of my legs out in front of me while I checked myself out. I flexed my leg to see the firm quadriceps and hamstring muscles.

But today, I'm dressed up wearing a red tie over a white button shirt, a pair of boxers, in a dark blue suit. That's the official company uniform when making sales calls or overseas visits. The good news is that the company allows us to travel Business Class on the longer flights. For that trip, I took a wide body Air France flight, flight #77, which departed 9pm and arrives 5 pm the next day. I like the later flight, because after dinner and a movie, I'm ready to fall asleep and arrive late afternoon in France, so all the offices are closed and I can go straight to my hotel to unwind, change clothes, and maybe hang out at the hotel bar for a couple of hours before taking a shower and turning in for the night.

So I got on the aircraft and found my seat. The layout of the business class is nice and private. There are only four rows of six seats in each row. Two against the window, two in the middle, and two on the other side. With walls separating business class apart from first and economy, and even curtains between the rows within business class, it's a great night flight for reading, resting, and of course sleeping. The new seats, especially on the European airlines, are called pods. They are self contained units that can recline to a full flat position. What's also nice is that the armrests between the seats can be lowered, to allow for a more restful position when I want to lie down.

I'm in seat 10A, the last row in business class, my favorite seat. In the rear corner of business class and away from the kitchen area and bathrooms, it's always quiet. And typically, the seat next to me is filled by some old rich widow or some other boring business man.

Settling into my seat and watching other passengers get on the airplane, I watched their faces to see if I could figure out who my seat neighbor might be. An obese elderly couple passed by, and I let out my breath knowing that I was safe. Some rich teenager strolled by, bopping along with ear phones so loud, even I could hear the music. That was a close call as well!

Suddenly a man about my age, also in a suit, walked by and gave me a half nod as he put his bag in the overhead compartment above our seats. He turned to the flight attendant and began to speak in French. Perfect I thought, with my own limited foreign language ability, I'm convinced that I am about to have a very quiet flight.

As my neighbor put himself in order, preparing for the long flight, I discretely looked him over. The typical Frenchmen, he wore a sharp tailored suit that hugged his obviously athletic body closely. I've noticed that French men and women dress impeccably, and this gentleman is no difference. His black hair is styled with a side part, the rest sweeping over to the side. His face is shaved smooth and his bronzed skin tells me that he probably beaches in the south of France each summer. At one point, he turned to me to see what I was up to and our eyes caught for the moment. He had the fiercest blue eyes I had ever seen, standing out against his darker complexion and black hair. Pretty unusual I thought. His suit pants were of the thinner leg style popular in Europe, which gave him a very metrosexual appearance. He quickly removed his suit jacket and found the hangar behind our seat pod to hang it up. He surprised me when he picked up another empty hanger and offered it to me, motioning at my suit.

Good idea, I thought, as I leaned forward and removed my own suit jacket and handed it to him.

"Thank you very much, monsieur," I said, leaning back into my seat afterwards.

"Not a problem at all, Sir," he responded in perfect English with a most wonderful French accent.

I looked over to see that he was also wearing a red tie over a white button shirt and a dark blue suit. The uniform of the day for modern international business, I thought to myself. The aircraft finally pulled away from the gate and was on the taxi way, awaiting take off. I picked up a magazine from the front seat pocket to see what latest calamity is happening in the world and sensed my seat mate busily fidgeting around quite a bit. I looked over at his hands, playing with the wedding band on his finger and saw that his face was a bit flushed, looking around.

"Do you not fly often," I asked.

"Actually I do, but take off and landing have never been favorite activities," I'm afraid to admit.

I put my magazine down. "This plane is one of the newer models, so it's pretty safe. Plus the weather outside is perfect. Calm winds, no clouds. It should be a pretty boring flight all night long," I said with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, merci, I appreciate your kind words. My name is Philippe, Philippe Mignon," he announced, holding out his hand towards me.

"You're quite welcome Philippe, my name is Luke Copain. Glad to meet you," I offered, as we shook hands.

"Well Luke, perhaps your name is a good sign, because our plane is already in the air and you have already distracted me, so thank you," Philippe said.

"Why is my name a good sign?" I asked.

"Well, Copain is French, as I'm sure you already know. It means friend, but as between men, as you Americans would call a 'buddy'," Philippe explained.

I grinned. "Very nice, and yes I knew that some of my family had come from France several generations ago. "

The flight attendant came by and took our dinner order while Philippe and I kept up the small talk. He was exactly my age and was also married with two small children at home. He was a project manager for a European conglomerate headquartered in Paris which is where he lived. He was coming back from a series of meetings in California and across the United States with their subsidiary companies.

Once dinner was over, and the trays were cleared, we relaxed with a glass of wine. I allowed Philippe to make our selections as he seemed most knowledgeable. Soon the conversation turned to the topic of business travel, of which we had both endured many long lonely miles.

"I must say that the travelling is hard sometimes," Philippe offered. "Despite what you may hear about us Frenchmen," he said with a blushing grin, "we do not have mistresses all over town." We both laughed.

"To be honest," he continued, leaning in close to me as to not be overheard, "I have never been with another woman since I was married," he admitted.

"Same here," I offered. "Too much drama for sure, although lack of sex does leave us few alternatives," I said, waving my open hand for effect. I couldn't believe I had just said this, something so personal with a man I had only just met. My words were met by the blushing face of Philippe, who grinned like a school boy hearing a dirty joke.

"True, true," he said after he stopped giggling.

"I guess we're the same all over the world, huh," I suggested, patting him quickly on the shoulder for reassurance. At that moment his eyes went wide from my touch, and I instantly pulled back, unsure if I had violated some unknown French standard of personal of behavior.

"Sorry," I blurted out, retracting my hand quickly.

Philippe smiled after a moment. "No, no, it's not you; I'm just use to the formality of working with Europeans, who are so stiff sometimes. But you Americans can be so much warmer," Philippe explained.

"Well, for what it's worth, I know many guys who can't handle more than a handshake either. Can you believe that? I have no problems with hugs and stuff. After all, male or female, we're all human and need the touch of another body sometimes," I explained.

"Especially while on a long business trip away from home, yes?" Philippe said.

"And how long were you away from home," I asked.

"About a month," he answered.

"That is a long time," I said.

"Yes, a month is too long to be away from, as we say, human contact," Philippe added with a wink. We both chuckled.

"Oh wait a moment," Philippe began, digging into his pants pocket and removing his wallet. he fished through it and pulled out a business card and handed it to me.

"I also work in central Paris, you should call me and we can meet for lunch or dinner sometime if you like," Philippe offered.

I took the card and after a quick glance, put it into my own wallet.

"Thank you, I just may take you up on your offer," I announced.

"I hope so," he replied.

We finished our wine and noticed that the cabin lights were being lowered throughout the aircraft.

"I think that they are giving us a hint, no?" Philippe observed.

I kicked off my shoes and lowered my seat into a full recline, grabbing a pillow and blanket and getting myself ready for some sleep. Philippe did the same but we both had trouble getting comfortable, bumping into the wide middle arm rest unit. I sat back up and looked around my seat's control panel.

"If you want, I think I can lower this middle unit, if you don't mind an occasional elbow poking you, " I joked.

"Yes, that would be wonderful," Philippe said as he found his control button and we both pushed down the arm rest separating our seats. This allowed both seats to open into one large area. Having never done this before with another passenger, I was surprised that I was so willing, if not eager to do this. With our lights off, and the curtain half pulled around our seats, we settled back down and got comfortable. I laid down on my back, with my hands at my sides and closed my eyes, trying to relax. It wasn't a few minutes when I heard Philippe rearrange himself and get into a similar position next to me, with our shoulders and hips barely touching. Our arms lay motionless next to each other. It felt so natural being so close, despite just meeting this man.

I was still awake and I sensed my fingers next to his. Don't ask me why but for some reason, my fingers reached out and touched his fingers, giving them a light stroke, almost a reassuring touch that we were okay, flying across the planet in the dark, 35,000 feet in the air, alone but not really. My head began to race. Except for some mutual jacking and a couple of 'experimental' blowjobs both given and received in college, I had never really looked at other guys. But somehow, this felt different. I suddenly panicked thinking that Philippe might at any moment jump out of his seat and scream for a flight attendant to have his seat changed, but instead I was surprised when Philippe took my hand in his and just held it. And it felt good. It felt so, I don't know, natural maybe? Like I had said earlier, human touch was human touch, regardless of gender.

Now I was definitely unable to sleep and I rolled onto my side, facing Philippe. I barely opened my eyes and saw that Philippe was already on his side facing me, his eyes wide open, a slight grin on his face. In the soft light of the aircraft, his facial features were impressive. The strong angled jaw line, the thin straight nose, the slim eyes and fine eyebrows. His face was impressive. Without thinking, my hand went to his jaw, lightly exploring his face as my hand travelled slowly along his cheeks. The bare hint of stubble that grew to harder stubble on his chin, I traced his fine features and acknowledged the warmth of his skin. His ears were on the small side as I tugged on his lobes and moved up to his temples, letting my fingers glide thought his hair, ruffling it up just so slightly. My fingers crossed his forehead and came down along the other side of his jaw and then went across his mouth. I felt the stubble from the morning's shave across his upper lip and let my fingers feel the warm soft flesh of his lips. I crossed down to his lower lip as his tongue darted out, wetting my fingers before they felt the thicker flesh of his lower lip. And my heart was pounding, and that was from only touching his face, which seemed to glow ever so slightly in the darkness, lit only by the moonlight streaming in from my open window shade. And I took a deep breath.

Philippe leaned in closer, almost lying on my part of the chair, as he lifted his hand to my face, cupping my cheek in his open palm. To make things easier, I retracted my own hand to get it out of his way to allow his exploration. He caressed my cheek with the backside of his hand as he slowly moved across my face. When his hand passed my mouth, I offered a gentle kiss to his skin, and I could hear him take in a quick breath of air. Obviously he was finding this moment as sensual as I was. With his hand now open, he brushed over my forehead and ran his fingers through my hair, taking delight in mussing it up completely and giggling at his accomplishment.

And all I knew was that my heart was pounding and I was more aroused then I could remember in recent times. I took my free hand to Philippe's collar and tugged on his tie to loosen it. Once a few inches below his collar, I unbuttoned the top two buttons and felt around. I could feel the warmth of his smooth firm skin and I heard him let out a slight gasp when I touched him. Philippe immediately went to his collar and pulled on his tie, opening it up and crumbling it into his pants pocket. With the tie out of the way, I took advantage of the situation and immediately opened all the buttons of his shirt. Philippe grabbed my hand to stop me before I was done but it was too late. I pulled at the shirt and opened it wide, revealing his smooth muscular chest. I was in awe scanning his smooth broad pecs and large dark nipples. He nervously looked around but no one was in sight. Most of the passengers were either quietly sleeping or wearing headphones engrossed in the bright screen images in front of them. The crew also seemed to be back at their own stations.

Philippe giggled nervously and I looked around to see what I could do to keep him calm. I found a large blanket near my seat and I opened it up, spreading it over his bare chest. And to make him feel less exposed, I quickly undid my tie and pulled off my shirt, laying back down bare-chested next to him while I pulled the large blanket over my body as well.

We now lay very close to each other, on our sides, face to face. With new territory to explore, my hands quickly went to Philippe for closer examination. I found his chest, maneuvering under the blanket and playing with his large nipples. Why I was so aroused playing with another man escaped me, but I knew I was hot and horny. I especially found delight when I felt his nipples react and grow to my touch.

"You are a bad boy," Philippe whispered into my ear. He kept his mouth next to the side of my face, allowing me to feel the sweetness of his breath on my cheek. I breathed in deeply, picking up his scent and a hint of wine which he had after dinner. I was intoxicated.

"Are you complaining monsieur," I asked.

"Of course not," Philippe replied, followed by a light kiss on my cheek.

But he had already gone too far. As he withdrew his head after completing the kiss, I reached out behind his head and pulled him back in towards me. This time I was ready, already facing him. Once in range, I moved my face right up to his, breathing deeply and smelling his essence, I opened my mouth for a full kiss. Our faces pushed into each other as his mouth opened in return and our lips locked. I allowed my tongue to venture forth until it was captured by Philippe's lips. He pulled and sucked on my tongue, forcing a moan to escape from my mouth. But with his mouth over mine, the sound barely made it out of my mouth.

I finally pulled back, gasping for air as if coming up from a deep dive. By now my hand was already on his lower belly, feeling his perfectly smooth abs and hungry to explore lower. His hand meanwhile was also wandering about my chest. Philippe must have relished my chest hair as he repeatedly tugged at it and twirled it in his fingers. And while I had been the bold one to take this mutual seduction to the next step, this time, he was the aggressive adventurer.

With the sensation of a light pull on the waist band of my pants, I could tell that he was taking this game south! The low buzzing of my zipper seemed to fill the silence of the aircraft cabin but I knew that no one else could hear the sound of my virtue being taken. I blessed my earlier decision to wear loose boxers under my suit for this flight when Philippe pushed his hand down and inside my boxers beneath my now opened pants. His grasp on my cock was nothing but electric. I almost laughed feeling his school boy antics exploring my private are as if it were all new to him. He examined and held my balls as if weighing them. A finger ventured underneath them as if unsure what he would find. Then he played with my pubic hairs as if no one else in the world had them, gasping and cooing as he discovered something new. Finally, Philippe found my cock, which was already hard from anticipation and excitement. Never before had I wanted to be touched and squeezed and fondled as much as now.

"This is too hot," Philippe gasped into my ear in a hoarse whisper. And his excitement made me even more aroused. Not to be left without my own toys, I reached over to Philippe and undid his pants, lowering the zipper and searching in the dark with my fingers. But Philippe was not wearing boxers. He was wearing some sort of nylon briefs which I caressed and squeezed as I explored. I tried to tug them down but had a bit of trouble until Philippe assisted and lifted his hips slightly, giving me full access to pull them down to about his knees. Once done and bringing my hand back up, I felt his hot cock quivering within reach. I also played with his balls and groped them as he continued to play with mine. I could tell that his cock was not circumcised, so I got to play with his foreskin and roll it around in my fingers. That didn't last very long as my playing only made him harder, stretching his cock and forcing his foreskin to shrink and stretch as he grew.

We tried to keep our moaning to a minimum but it was difficult. I'm not sure if I was more turned on playing with a mostly naked man or the fact that we were seducing each other in a public place. All I knew was that I was in a frenzied state and needed more, much more. I brought my hand around Philippe's bare hip and pulled him forcibly closer, getting most of his body into my seat. I leaned up and planted another hot heavy kiss on Philippe's lips before lifting the end of the blanket which was at our shoulders. I got out of my seat and leaned over him, going under the blanket and aiming for his groin.

The last thing I heard was Philippe's gasp 'mon dieu' (my god), which made me grin as I kissed the top of his cock. I could sense his belly suck itself in as I began the best blow job I could offer. With one hand fondling his balls and my other hand grasping the base of his hard cock, I licked and sucked the head of his cock, letting my lips clamp down tightly. My head bobbed up and down, letting my tongue suckle on his foreskin. I knew I was driving him crazy, as his body began to squirm beneath me. At one point I froze, thinking that I heard someone walking by, but after a second, I could feel Philippe gently stroking the back of my head through the blanket, signaling that the coast was clear. And I continued my sucking with a vengeance.

Gently squeezing his balls, I locked my lips tighter and raised and lowered my head even faster, allowing Philippe to give a wonderful facefuck. His body movement increased as his chest occasionally quivered and emitted a series of low gasps. Suddenly, Philippe slipped one of his hands under the blanket and held on to my shoulder, squeezing tightly and signally the cumming of his orgasm. I could feel his legs tighten near me and his body seemed to clench. His hips rose to meet my mouth and I felt him cum. Stream after stream pulsed into my mouth which I quickly swallowed. I eased the grip my lips had on his cock as I continued to suck and lick his cock as the last of his cream flowed out. Philippe's cock softened and I gave it a departing kiss, slowly easing myself out from under the blanket and back into my seat. I could feel his body heat next to me now, despite the small vents blowing cool air over us from above.

Lying back down next to him, with our heads close by I could tell Philippe had turned to face me.

"I don't think I have had an orgasm as powerful since maybe I was a teenager, Luke" Philippe whispered. His comment was followed by a sweet gentle kiss on my lips. I let the kiss linger, opening my mouth and letting him slip his tongue inside, probably probing around for a taste of his own cream. He must have been successful as he licked his lips when the kiss ended.

"Mmm, it's like I'm getting a taste of what's in store for me, huh Luke?" Philippe teased.

"If you insist," I countered.

I stretched back into my own seat, keeping my legs spread, knowing what was coming. And Philippe did not disappoint. Soon enough, he crawled under and hovered over me, forming a large mound covered by the blanket. I could feel his hands on my hips, holding me in place as he sucked and licked and nibbled on my cock. His head moved up and down as he sucked me, teasing me with both hard then soft sucks and squeezes. I looked out the airplane window at the clouds lit by the moon and groaned, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. But it was difficult as I all I could think of doing was howling at that bright moon like a wild beast. I'm not sure how long I lasted, but I'm sure I came sooner then I realized. I grabbed the pillow from behind my head and forced it against my mouth, stifling a scream when I came. My body bucked and lurched strong enough to push Philippe's head off my cock. He quickly reattached, catching whatever spunk was flowing from my twitching cock. And to repeat the act, I felt a few kisses and licks on my cock head moments before Philippe emerged from under the blanket and stood upright before me, stark naked. I loved looking him over from head to toe, seeing his smooth skin. The moon cast beautiful shadows on his awesome body and I regretted not being able to see him naked in the day light.

Philippe pulled up his briefs, rearranging his deflated cock before pulling up his pants and fastening them. It was just as sexy watching him dress as it was to help him undress. Finished, he found his shirt on the floor and put it on, fastening the buttons and putting himself back into respectable shape. I reached around for my shirt and also got dressed. Presentable again, we got back into our seats and opened our blankets and prepared to get some sleep while we still had some time.

With our heads once again near each other, we settled in for some much needed rest.

"And how long will you be working in Paris, Luke?" Philippe asked.

"At least a month, and then I need to come back from time to time," I explained.

"Mmm, that might be kind of nice for both of us, no?" Philippe said.

"And will you need to come back to Los Angeles in the future?" I asked.

Philippe leaned in closely, putting his mouth up to my ear. "I expect I will need to cum in Los Angeles quite regularly. We have a big office there of course," Philippe answered.

"You mean come to Los Angeles," I corrected.

"No, I meant I will cum IN Los Angeles, hopefully in YOU, to be more specific," Philippe added.

"You're so bad, aren't you," I asked in a tease.

"Are you complaining Luke," he responded.

"Never!" We both giggled, smiling and relaxed before eventually falling asleep on our wonderful overnight flight. I just love to fly; it is so glamorous and fun!

And for the record, I never did cheat on my wife with another woman for the rest of my professional career.



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