Seat 2A

A friendly hand covered my eyes while the other hand went up my polo shirt and played, very professionally, with my nipples. "Who is this?
"Not yet. I'm going to uncover your eyes but you're going to close them while I pull off your shirt. Deal?"
"Deal."

This time, once I was de-shirted, he put a quite professional blind over my eyes then used both hands to hug me while he put his head on my shoulders."
"I knew they'd be broad. Uhmm. Nice and wide, too."
"Who are you?" Half stripped and with his arms around me it seemed a logical question.
"Not yet."
"You've said that twice."
"Uhumm. Needed to be said." His thumb and forefinger must have taken an advanced course in advanced nipple play as in a very, very short time, he had me moving up the heat scale. And this just on my tits.
"Can I handcuff you?"
"Not on the first, uh, date." He chuckled.
"Promise you'll keep your hands together for a little while." I nodded "yes".

He took one hand and slowly went down my abdomen to my belt line then underneath it. Not the underwear, but he covered my crotch through the soft cotton.
"Nice basket work."
"Thanks, I did it myself, glad you appreciate it. Did you notice the, uh, contents?"
He made an amused noise. "Sure did, am there now. I might wonder how they looked if the basket were to be removed?"
"Only one way to find out but....maybe some place a bit more private. This is a party and we don't want to be the entertainment."
I could sense his head turning, looking, then finding something. We backed through a door which he closed and locked.

"Sure this isn't a closet? The can?"
"Where do you usually put beds?"
"Storage? The guest room? On the street for the trash collector?"
"Number two".
"Convenient".

He laid me carefully on it, pulled off my shoes and then my pants then slid in beside me.
"No fair, you've got your clothes on."
"I do and they'll stay that way until you remember who I am." What with one thing and his hands on my nipples and cock, I was getting hard which was clouding my thought processing. I wasn't really in the mood for twenty questions but, just for the moment, I played along.
"Animal, vegetable or mineral?"
"Very much animal." He took one of my hands and put it on his crotch.
"Yep, animal, I recognize that anatomy from anatomy classes." He gave my nuts a tender feel which hardened me even more.
"Expecting company?"
"No, but I always keep the welcome mat out."

I'll tell you my first name. Dieter." That got me no where, I didn't know any Dieter save for one at the bank in Germany where I sometimes consulted and he was over 70 and not inclined to put his hand down other mens' pants.
"No help. Last name?"
"Wouldn't mean anything to you, I doubt if you've heard it although, maybe in passing....." One of his longer fingers, who cares which one, slid down and around my ball sack in pursuit of a place from which to mount an attack on my prostate.
Between little moans of pleasure, I choked out that we were at a party given by friends and this wasn't what they'd had in mind as entertainment for their guests.
His breath made the hair on my chest move-it was already standing up.
"Listen, I'm.....Oh my God, yes... a quick draw.....uhmmmmm....and you're getting me to......Holy Jesus, do that one again....to the point of no return.....Umhmmm....I'll come in my shorts......"
"...that's when I'll pull them off, eat what's in them, what's on you, give you a quick yank so you won't harden when I take you out to dinner and then we'll see. Remember I'm an animal?"

He was really good, I blasted out in a way that usually takes me a lot longer. Panting, I could feel him shuck off my shorts, hear him lick the contents and then wash my crotch in a very professional way.  I guess just to make sure there was only a little bit left, he gave me a hand job. the sort usually given by teenage girls to their boyfriends when they really want to be a tease.
Somehow he found a towel and dried me off as best as possible.
"How are you feeling? Good I hope?"
"Yeah but...I'm a bit tired, fast sex always does that to me and I still have no clue, not a shred as to who you are."

"Fun, isn't it. You meet a man at a party who seems to know you, he sexes you and....you don't know who he is. Maybe I don't want you to know."
"Look, if you want this to go beyond the door, you'll have to be a bit more informational. I let you get this far 'cause I'm in a familiar place surrounded by people I know. Else where, had you pulled that stunt, I could have easily whirled around and cold cocked you."
"You're too fine a gentleman, that is something you would not do."
Nicely said however..." Now, tell me who you are and take off this damn blindfold, maybe your face will jog my memory."

He did and I was looking at a face......I had no idea. Familiar? Maybe but given that he clearly knew me, I had to have seen him somewhere, maybe even had a conversation with him. The slight accent, but with a name like 'Dieter' the accent wasn't of much help.

He could tell I was blank and just smiled. Very good looking, a bit shorter than me, brown to blond hair, brown eyes, nice build.....who the fuck was he? He'd gathered up my shirt so I could get completely dressed. 

Outside the room I made my thank-yous to my host, couldn't find Dieter so went out the door where he turned up.
"Lets go to my hotel. I think I know something that will put me in perspective for you."

I wanted to know the hotel. It's one thing to play minimal fun and games at a party and quite another to go to a hotel where a stranger is staying. He was quick to respond, I knew the property and knew it was at least a very good place. Not a Fairmont or a Mark Hopkins but certainly one where I would feel safe. Dieter hailed a cab and we were on our way. I was still plagued by who he was. There was an aura of familiarity about him but nothing in my memory bank pulled up anything.

It wasn't a large room, about the size someone who wasn't going to be in town long might take.
"Thought of anything?" I shook my head.
"Okay, well, I think I have something that will explain me to you. Want to close your eyes again and turn away?"
"Sure.....but this is the last time." He smiled and I did as I was asked.

A minute or so later he said to turn around and I did. My jaw dropped. I was looking at the purser who'd been in charge of the flight I'd come in on the day before.
He smiled, gestured toward a non-existent seat and said, "Welcome aboard Herr Doktor, pleasure to have you with us again."

I was trying to think and some things were, sort of, falling into place. I commute fairly often between San Francisco and Germany, always take the same flights and began to try and remember how many times he'd been part of the crew. First Class wasn't usually full so the staff had time to chat with the passengers and, on a twelve hour flight, get to know each other at arms length at least. I even knew him as 'Dieter' but only in his uniform on the plane. 

He had a nice, very nice smile that wasn't professional but genuine. In fact, I'd admire him on the plane in flight and, not a few times, wondered where he went in San Francisco that I could find him. Obviously, he'd beaten me to the punch and,  I had to admit it, very cleverly.

"What if I'd recognized you at the party? Then what?"
"We walk past our passengers all the time in our street clothes and virtually never are recognized, people don't expect to see us and therefore they don't."

I thought about it and remembered once I'd been at an airport waiting for someone when a man came over, called me by name and began a conversation that clearly indicated he knew me. Knew my family....but was a blank to me. He finally smiled and said he realized I had no idea who he was and, feeling a complete dope, had to admit he was right. His smile got even bigger.
"Yesterday at your front door you were wearing boxers and a T shirt......"
Christ, it was Mike, my mail carrier. For years. I started to apologize but he just waved me off, pointed out it happened all the time and he'd probably see me again in the next few days. I offered him a pair of new boxers and a T shirt.

Dieter laughed. "That, sir is precisely why crews fight to have you on their flights. You're a nice man, a good man and  one we know would help in an emergency-that counts for a lot. Remember the passenger who had an inverse drug reaction and you were the equivalent of a first responder?" Well, yeah, dimly I remembered that. I didn't even remember it was his carrier, Lufty as I called it.

"Beyond anything else, there's a dossier on you available to all employees that would make a flight crew want you on their flights. You are as high up on our lists of VIPs as anyone who isn't a high elected official. If, for some reason, we had Chancellor Merkel on a flight with you, we would make sure the two of you were adjacent." I had met the Chancellor, just not on a plane; For that, I sincerely doubted she ever flew commercial. 

"Do you want me to take off my clothes?" His question spun me out of Berlin and back to San Francisco.
"Why would you do that?" It was a dumb question but something I wanted to know and hadn't taken the time to phrase it in a more subtle way. And just to make a dumb question worse, I followed with a stupid statement. "We haven't had dinner yet."
He just smiled. 

"Look, since this is something you want....how did you find me at the party now that I think of it....."
"Easy, you're so calm and comfortable with us, you leave all sorts of papers open. I noticed your appointment book and there was the notation about the party and, you're almost as efficient as a German, name of host, address and phone number plus time you planned to be there. Big parties like that, it's easy to walk in if you seem to fit in. First thing, find the hostess, thank her for your invitation and express your pleasure at being there, mention your name,  you thought you'd still be in Europe. Easy. Then it was just a matter of collect a drink and wait for you. Punctual soul,  right through the door at the time you wrote down."

I almost fell down with laughter. It was so easy in retrospect that I wondered how many other men he'd followed and fucked around the world.
"None, sir, just you. I'm not a man who is easily swayed by a handsome face or lots of 'be nice to this person' in our bios of passengers. Do you remember Uwe? Usually works way back in tourist. He almost falls over himself when he knows you're on board. Beate  caught him as he arranged blankets on you on a couple of occasions and had to shoo him back. First Class, VIP, Platinum Senator Club members are ONLY to be handled by those trained to handle them."
"Beate, the nice blond lady, about 50ish....the one who tells me which wine I do not want. Such a nice person."

"She likes you as well. And she wants us to become, uhm, close friends both on and off the plane."
I thought about that. He was what I would want if I were in the market to want anyone. My partner of some years had died several years ago and....it wasn't a position I filled like something at my office. I didn't take applicants for the job because it wasn't a job it was...part of my life. They would become that and I there's. So, what to do with and about Dieter? Just to kill time I told him to pack up his things, he was moving to my place until he flew away in just under 36 hours. He seemed more than pleased and, half an hour later we were in a cab headed for my home. 

"This is how I thought you'd live. Extremely comfortable, nothing showy, all good things.....including yourself, the best thing here."
We were in the small entrance foyer which featured a good sized closet and a half bath. Spiral staircase started there and ended four stories up but, just then, we only went up one. If you knew where it was, there was also a surprisingly large freight elevator which was how the larger pieces of furniture, such as a baby grand piano moved in and up. 

"I rehabbed this from a four story, four family house built just after the earthquake and fire. Which explains the brick and, as you go around, all the spigots-there's a cistern in the basement to pump your own water should there be a fire. I converted it into a sort of combo swimming pool, hot tub and spa. We'll give it a shot later should you wish."

Up the stairs to the next floor. "Okay, this is the guest floor so that means your room and bath are just over there, your own living room and.....whatever else you need. Fresh sheets on the bed and, I assume, it's all reasonably clean, there's a service that comes in a couple of times a week when I'm away."
Dieter looked crestfallen. "So....I sleep here? Yes"
"No, it's a guest suite for people who will be here several weeks. I'm not sure how to qualify you but for now, we need to go up two more flights to the master suite, my room." Dieter looked happier.

It was what he had hoped it would be but couldn't know. The bedroom itself was large and contained side tables, a cowboy style bench at the end of bed plus a dresser. In one door was the bathroom which had everything a man might need including a shower that easily seated two or more. The other door led to a walk-in closet that, as he would have expected, contained all his clothes, carefully divided into whatever purpose they were for. Luggage-he checked everything an only carried a leather satchel on the plane. 

I threw him on the bed before he'd a chance to do more than put down his bag. "And now my friend, I believe you owe me something."
"Take off my clothes....." We'll get to that. I crawled up his body until we were face to face and I could see his eyes close.
"Uh huh, that's where we start." I wasn't known for my kissing abilities but I tried my hardest. Couldn't have been too bad as it didn't take Dieter long to begin to ingratiate his tongue into my mouth. His hands cupped my ass and one of them dove through my legs until it was just below my perineum and the prostate above it. 

Hard to speak coherently with your mouth full of someone else's tongue. "Um umh, not yet, we haven't had dinner."
"Do we need it?"
"Absolutely, got to build up our strength, just now I'm feeling weak". I could feel his lips slide into something that was vaguely a smile.

We rolled like two Kayakers trying to get back on top; I won.  Now I ran a hand down under his belt and, Surprize-tho I shouldn't have been-he wasn't wearing anything. I lifted my head. "Bet you can't do that on a plane."
"I'll take that bet." and gave me a wicked smile. "You insisted on dinner. I can cook, why not get comfortable and eat in. If there are eggs and whatever else, there's food." It was an appealing idea.
"Unpack whatever you need, put your shaving things in the can and meet me in the closet". He looked puzzled but started out to do what I'd told him to do.

In the mean time, I went into the closet, began to strip and pulled a hooded, zip front sweat shirt, pulled on some short, cuffed sweat shorts, worn with a jock my balls didn't hang out as they did now, some comfortable shoes, leaned back and waited. This was an outfit I did not wear out in public, to the gym, my car or anywhere. It had its purpose and that purpose was about to open the door. I leaned back against a shelf, my hair messed up from having things pulled on and over it and I was staring straight at the door. I flicked a switch and one light, that would have lit the shelf, came on and all I needed was a guest. The door opened.

I've seen surprised people in my life and, some of them, passed surprised and went right on toward shock. Dieter, however, was a trained professional, trained to take in his stride what he might see and then deal with it. This was something he'd never seen, never expected to see and did not know how to deal with it. I had the upper hand, arm, head and the lowdown on cock and balls. He stumbled over his feet and I caught him, kissed him and removed his clothes. For him there was a terry cloth robe and some scuff-pinched from Lufthansa-indeed they were still in the bag.

"You mentioned you know how to cook, lets take the elevator down a floor and see what's in the kitchen." I discreetly pulled the dangling equipment into a jock I was wearing if only for safety sake. Hot fat spattered onto a cock or balls was going to hurt and not in a way endorsed by anyone involved in BDSM.

Sometimes when people are quiet, I get nervous but this time it was what I'd expected: For I don't know how many thousand miles or how many hundred hours he'd quietly lusted after me. Been a pillar of decorum, never betrayed anything beyond a genuineness to serve me as he was trained. Now, in very few hours, it had all been reversed, he was in my home, naked and then robed and was being led by my hand. There was also the issue of the BED which he knew he would occupy and I would be beside him or wherever I chose to position myself. Sex? What else could there be? He didn't know my tastes and I didn't know his but, he figured, not to sweat the small stuff; All the mountains he'd worked to climb were behind him

"Further than you thought you'd ever get? Walking by me on the plane and wondering.....but now it's all real. Is this what you want?"
"What I want, have wanted is just...that nice guy on the plane only in bed next to me naked and getting ready to have sex of some sort." I thought that through and realized that we weren't quite at the end of the fantasy just yet; I had no idea what he had in mind, what he wanted and I'm not sure he really knew. Some form of intimate physical contact but...how far. 

To date it had all been pretty vanilla, clever here and there, but vanilla. Maybe that would be enough for him, spend the night with me, maybe a little fuck and suck or just the closeness, running his hands over me. He knew he wouldn't lose me entirely, I would be going back to Germany and little doubt he'd be on the plane. And once there? Would he invite me to his home? In the comfort of familiar territory would he true desires finally come out?

One thing, I was getting tired of trying to do things to accommodate him. After all, I wasn't the one who followed me, he was.

As far as dinner was concerned, it wasn't getting very far. He'd removed some things from the fridge, was in the process of going through shelves to find.....whatever he needed. Something occurred to me.

I relieved him of K.P. and took him into the living room, plunked us both on a very long sectional and said, "You know, food after sex always tastes better. Here or in there? Your choice."
"The bed, please". Wondering if I'd have to find a chiropractor who made house calls, I lifted him in to my arms and headed for the bedroom where, fortunately, the door was open. As gracefully as possible, I put him on the bed, removed the few clothes he was wearing, made a point of stripping off my few garments where he could easily see and got on the bed beside him. He reached out to hold me and I was immediately in his arms. 

Now he was crying, tears of joy I think, but crying. 

I moved across the bed and held him. He lay on his back and put his arms around me, buried his face in the hair on my chest and just held me.

"Getting what you thought you wanted isn't quite the same as wondering what it would be like if you got what you wanted. It's just too bad that you've had all this one sided contact with me and, of course, I never knew. I'm used to people being professionally polite, although you and the crew make it more than that, we've done it so many times, I must be like having a frequent caller who just drops by."

"So many times, so many times.....but there are very strict rules about even approaching passengers and the higher your station, the stricter the rules."

I could understand that but in a sense he'd done what he wasn't supposed to do and was now in the bed of a passenger and the bed was not in  747-8 forty thousand feet over nowhere in particular. Shows how things change.Up to this moment we'd done little more than some very mild sex play, if we stopped right now he could sleep in my bed or my arms and no harm would be done. Maybe a little embarrassment the next time I saw him on the plane or......would he see my name and arrange to not be on that flight. 

"So bad I want you, have wanted you......now....."
"Yes, now." I shifted a bit so that we were more beside one another, him face down clutching a pillow, me face up staring at my own ceiling.
"Sir, can this go on, that is, can this go on after tonight? Could I be your man? I could come here and when you're in Germany, you could be with me."
"And that would get you fired. Sure you can come here but there, probably a really bad idea because I stay in one place and you're always flying in and out. Plus, what happens when someone, someone you work with, gets jealous and tells management a version of what's going on and, I promise you, it won't be a version that has any truth. Dieter, you know that will happen. Some people are never content with the happiness of others and so....fuck it up."

I rolled slightly, reached up and touched a button; Some dim lights came on, nothing bright, just enough to navigate. "Hold on, stay where you are, I'll be right back." I slid out of bed while he propped himself up on one arm, puzzled as to what I was doing."

Whether we needed a mood breaker or not, we needed something to divert us. To that end I picked up a small butlers tray that had a decanter filled with Brandy and four glasses, two of which I removed, on it. Back to the bed, I put the tray between the two of us, poured out a good shock of the liquor and handed him the balloon.
He sniffed it, "This is good".
I didn't say anything but remembered I used to wash Phillips cock with it before and after I sucked him off. Warmed with a mentholated flame, it was great for dipping your balls in, the warm made them descend even further. I think I may have teared up just a little.

He noticed and reached to wipe my face taking the tear from his finger into his mouth. "You have been alone for a very long time, no?"
"Yes".
"He lay in this bed with you, loved you and you loved him."
What to do but nod yes because he was exactly right. He turned and leaned against the suede head board. We both were very quiet, wondering what to do next. Sex seemed to be fading, maybe he'd be better off downstairs in the guest room but I didn't want that. 

He took a large sip of Brandy. "I cannot replace another, probably that's why there's not been another. What I can do, at least for some little while is replace loneliness." I was sitting on the side of the bed, my snifter in both hands, my feet on the carpet and hunched over. I felt a hand over my eyes. "Who am I?"
"Dieter"
"No, I'm the man in your bed who wants your company, your warmth, you. I guess that's something you need, a man in your bed with whom you talk, tell each other about the day, maybe fuck and then go to sleep." He was right, yes, he was. I couldn't have Phillip and had learned not to even try and find his duplicate. Dieter wasn't anything like my departed but he was an awfully nice guy. But what to do?
We sat there in the gloom not touching each other, the smell of liquor subtly in the room. And silence. 

Six monts later I was flying home from Frankfurt. Dieter and Beate had welcomed me on board, took my coat, got me settle in my seat. We went through the usual routine of the emergency information-which I had been ignoring for years. The long taxi to the end of the active run way, down it and Germany dropped away as the captain made a graceful turn to the Northwest to take the Polar route home. 

Dieter came to me taking a drink order although he'd written it down before he asked.  We made small talk about how we were, what was new....he went off to fetch my drink.

I smiled, this was the last time we'd do this. He'd been staying with me in San Francisco when ever he flew in and a lot of barriers were broken. When he picked up his bag today, it would be for the last time. Beate was smiling, so happy for us and she would occupy the guest room that evening.

As we fucked that evening, that slow delicious, long fuck that satisfies everyone, it was just our normal evening when he was in town. I'd entertain him at my hotel when I was overseas and we'd worked things out at first then at last. 

I reached under my pillow and took out a small velvet covered box and handed it to him. He dipped his balls in some Brandy, put on the ring, leaned over and kissed me. I thought about putting my hand over his eyes but didn't. That had started happiness......and before that, up in the air, a man fell in love with me. It took a while but I eventually fell in love with him.

"Roll over, I'm going to fuck you and then you're going to fuck me." He smiled, reached of a jar of petroleum jelly, took a glob, smeared it on my hard cock and then stuffed some of it up his ass. As he got up on his hands and knees and I moved around to mount him....I wondered what would have happened if I'd flown another airline?