“Deal!” I promise.
After I walk into the hotel room, I close the door on the pilots and collapse into the giant bed with a crooked grin on my face.
I remember in my younger years wondering if becoming a flight attendant would make me happy. That seems silly now. Not many people get the opportunity to travel and get drunk with attractive pilots, and that makes me even happier than I ever thought possible.
God, the pilots I met tonight were hot, too.
I have to admit I felt a bit of temptation, especially near the end of the night.
Most flight attendants wind up entangled into some sort of romantic rendezvous with a pilot at some point, but I try to avoid the risk. Yes, most pilots know how to navigate a woman’s body, but I don’t want to jeopardize my new position for a fling with someone I can’t trust.
Who else can you trust in the air, though, if not your pilot?
If an opportunity presents itself, I’m not sure I can resist them in the future- especially if they still seem as funny to me as they did after a few drinks.
Who cares about pilots at a time like this, though?
I finally get to experience pride and power. I am even big enough to acknowledge that I feel like holding the new position over the head of the other stewardesses.
Every flight attendant fights to become an international stewardess, and I am the one who got it done. I know they probably talk shit about me now at the domestic waiting area in Topeka, KA, but why do I care? I get to go to Tokyo, Johannesburg, and, of course, Paris.
As I unhook my bra and toss it onto the ground, it hits me that I am falling asleep in Paris, the city of romance and passion.
I tell myself that I must take advantage of the passion associated with the city during my next trip.
All I know is that for the first time in my life, things seem to be pointing in the right direction, and I feel pretty good about the way life appears to be going.
When I slip my leggings down past my ankles, I feel my soft legs and start to rub on myself a bit.
Sure, I don’t want to bring strange pilots into my room, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make myself feel good...