A Likely Story: A Wayward Ink Publishing Anthology (26 page)

Opening the door, Anthony peeked inside to see two gorgeous men concentrating, talking to the tower, and one clicking away on his keyboard. The serious sexiness of their tones was arousing. Their talk added extra meaning to the term ‘Roger that’.

Shoving all naughty thoughts, and feelings, back where they belonged, Anthony organized his head and took a firm step into the relatively spacious area. Before him, lining the front of the cabin, was a sea of monitors and variations on a keyboard. Above and between the pilots was a series of knobs, sticks, and switches a spaceship would be proud to contain. Behind the pilots was the navigator’s position, with his private set of instruments.

Anthony handed the men a bottle of water each. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?”

To play safe, he started with the easiest of the three. One look at Phil and Anthony knew the order. He was a creature of habit. Phil always started a flight with tea and custard creams, followed later by one of the onboard meals, or something Laurie cooked for him.

The blinding smile Anthony received from Jet left him weak at the knees and he almost faltered in his duties. “Mr. Blake!” Jet laughed. “You do talk then!” He was referring to the man’s lack of communication in the lounge.

From a place unknown, Anthony’s sass returned. “You can call me Anthony or Tony, and I can do a lot more than talk, my Texan prince.” Anthony supposed the Airbus wasn’t the only thing with an autopilot.

All Jonathan could do was gulp as he broke out his water.

Connor intervened. “Yes, he’s fluent in several languages, including the intricate dialect of bullshit.”

“Talented and beautiful,” replied Jonathan, having regained his composure.

On a roll, Anthony used his favorite line from
Star Trek
, slightly altered to suit his purposes. “What can I say, I have a talented tongue.” Without giving Jonathan a chance to respond, he continued, “Is it the usual for you, boss?”

“Yes, please.”

“Jonathan,” Anthony said in his most sultry of voices. Showman Anthony was ‘in the building’. “What would
you
like?”

“Um, same as Connor please.” Jet took another gulp from his bottle, looking a little unsure.

“I really shouldn’t let you eat the same. However, seeing as Laurie made what Connor likes, I’ll let it slip this time. Coffee and a muffin coming up,” About to leave, he turned back, “Oh. I forgot… how do you
take
it?”

Jonathan instantly coughed on his water. Anthony loved his revived bravado and stood there innocently looking at Jet, waiting for an answer.

“Black, sweet,” he rasped as he beat the cough out of his chest. Connor sat there enjoying the banter with a grin on his face, while continuing to fly Baby to its correct altitude.

Quickly and efficiently, Anthony delivered the cockpit order before returning to his duties. While on his way to collect sustenance for the passengers, a hand grabbed his arm. “Excuse me, young man,” spoke a woman with a very haughty voice.

“Yes, ma’am?” Anthony looked down towards a well-dressed, probable business lady.

“This is an A380 is it not, with two levels?”

“Yes it is, and yes it has, ma’am. You know your aircraft.” He acknowledged with a smile.

“Then why haven’t I been upgraded? I have a gold card.”

Anthony was tempted to roll his eyes in contempt. He hated passengers who asked for upgrades, like it was a right. The lady was obviously not a Chimera Air savvy passenger.

“Upstairs is not for passengers, ma’am. There is only one class on all Chimera aircraft, regardless of what color card you have.”

“Oh! How preposterous. Who uses upstairs then?” The broad’s snooty attitude was grating on Anthony’s nerves. He didn’t know who she was, and didn’t care to, either.

Taking a deep breath, he calmed his ire. “Crew and guests of our captain, ma’am. You are a paying customer, not a guest of the captain,” Anthony answered, hoping it was basic enough for her.

A smile curled her ruby-red lipstick. Anthony was sure he saw her flex her bust too. “How do I get to be a guest of your captain?” she asked suggestively.

There was only one answer for her. One of which Laurie used versions of many times.

“Let me think.” Anthony put a finger to his chin in fake thought. “Oh yes. Become a lesbian crew member. Alternatively, grow a penis, a set of balls, lose the tits, and convince his husband to divorce him. Even then, I doubt you’d be successful. He’s not into redheads.”

She huffed and looked away.

Mustering as much sugar in his voice as possible, Anthony said with a smile, “Have a nice flight, ma’am.” Customers such as her were sadly more common than Anthony liked. Safe in the knowledge Connor, and Laurie, would have been much more caustic in their remarks, Anthony put the incident behind him and continued.

In anticipation of what was to come, the crew was in top form serving drinks, food, and more drinks to passengers. As soon as everyone finished, with rubbish and containers stored away, the passengers were left for a short while to allow their meals to settle and have a few personal minutes.

Completing another sweep, Anthony noticed someone looking distressed. On closer inspection, his experienced eyes realized what the issue was. A passenger was receiving…
stimulation
, and was about to bust. Drawing level to the seat Anthony saw exactly what was happening.

To anyone passing, it looked like two men holding hands under a blanket. In fact, the passenger by the window was getting a hand job from the man seated next to him. Window man was about to blow and was trying hard not to blow his cover literally. The best part though, was that in order to appreciate the job at hand, he had moved his legs wider. His trapped foot was under the footrest, and his leg was at an awkward angle. He was riding the precipice between pain and pleasure—a dilemma his partner hadn’t noticed. The hooded man was busy trying to look inconspicuous, and window man was too caught up in the whole experience to mention it—though it was clearly a problem.

It was too much fun to pass up. “Would you like some assistance, sir?”

Both men jumped, quickly returning all hands to their natural positions. Window man tried to sit properly, but winced at the abnormal angle of his foot. With some discomfort, he freed it and tucked the blanket around himself more securely.

His partner looked up, embarrassed.

Reining in his emotions, Anthony leaned in and talked with a significantly lowered voice. “Liam, what the fuck ‘r’ you doing?” He chastised his work colleague in an annoyed whisper. “I know we’re allowed to do what we want on this flight, but damn… you’re not supposed to do a passenger in his seat.”

“Sorry, Tony! This is my friend, Trevor. We’ve known each other for years, and we’re always ships that pass in the night.”

“So, hello involves shaking dicks instead of hands?” Anthony whisper-shouted.

“Er, pretty much. We’ve never done it on a flight before.”

“Well, if that’s your intent, at least wait until everyone’s asleep. Better still, take him upstairs during a quiet spell. Use your brain to speak next time, Liam, not his dick.” About to walk away, he finished with, “Oh, and Liam… wash your hands. You have customers to deal with and a performance soon.”

Liam retrieved his jacket from under the seat. A nod later, he disappeared.

With everyone relaxed, Anthony gave the
signal
. The show was about to begin.

Readying themselves, they gave Connor notice and Laurie took over the music.

Connor spoke in a very captain like manner, yet made his words sultry.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. For your entertainment this evening, we have for one flight only something a little more… original… from your onboard crew. If you do not wish to feast your eyes on the deliciousness that will be performing live for you, please put your blindfold on. I guarantee you’ll be tempted to look.”

The men waited, nervously excited, on the stairs. Then, the low haunting cellos of Two Steps From Hell’s
Black Blades
filled the air. They descended, caped and hooded, heads bowed, taking long deliberate steps down the aisle. The timing was such that when the drums started, the men came to life, lifting their heads before swiftly and dramatically removing their capes revealing garbs identifying iconic movie characters.

They made their way down the aisle to the sound of trombones, trumpets, and violins. Every action was one of strength modeled on their martial-arts training.

By the time the solo piece finished, all crew members were in their designated zones. The next phase of the music signaled the striptease, timed so that each piece of clothing was removed and dropped to a significant beat of the music.

Anthony slowly removed his James Bond, 007, tuxedo jacket, and tossed it to a seat. Next off was his shirt. Anthony undid one of his cuffs but offered the other to a female passenger. He blew her a kiss when she removed the sleeve with a smile after Anthony mouthed the word ‘pull’ to her with pouted lips and a wink. Anthony ripped his shirt off in sync with everyone else ripping off a sliver of clothing.

The majority of female passengers were well into the action, clapping and whooping at all movements. The men were a combination of elated, stunned, amused, and from easily identified blushes around the upper neck area—some aroused. A bobbing Adam’s apple was a further giveaway.

All that remained on Anthony’s top half was the white collar and bow tie. Those he left in place.

Anthony was well into the deep, rumbling, soulful, grind and thrust of the music. He teasingly slid his fingers along the waistline of his pants. During a turn, he thrust his butt, hips, then crotch as part of the maneuver, only to come face-to-face with Jet, who was watching every move from the bottom of the stairwell.

His breathing hitched, but without breaking character or eye contact, Anthony continued his routine, emphasizing favorite moves in Jet’s direction. He had a new focus for his performance. Anthony let the last dozen bars dominate his actions. Every suggestive nuance his body made, he directed Jet’s way. In an overly sexual movement and facial expression, Anthony ripped his pants of and launched them toward Jonathan. He knew he’d hit home when he heard a growl.

With the dramatic ending of the music, the men came to a halt at the same beat. They gave the audience a few seconds to admire the men in nothing but their underwear that differed with each attendant to show off their best assets.

Clad in simple blue boxers, his back was towards Jet when the music morphed into the second and final track. It was an eighty’s classic, Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s,
Relax
—an altogether more active dance.

The moment the music began Anthony pushed his hips and ass backward toward Jet; then when the main beat began he made sure the imagery Jet had was that of his clenching butt as his hips thrust forward. The illicit nature of the action was clear. Throughout the dance the movements reflected the words of the song, which at times pushed the boundaries of decency. Anthony could feel Jet’s eyes on him, and during a surreptitious glance in his direction, Anthony could see Jet breathing heavily, his eyes lidded with lust.

Occasionally the men paired up and used each other like poles. At those times, Anthony imagined his pole was Jet. It was as if he was only dancing for him. There was plenty of circling, hands in the air, hip bumping, butt rubbing, and crotch thrusting—all to the timing of the music.

During the lines ‘Live those dreams, scheme those schemes’
,
Anthony locked lips with the surrogate Jet into a brief, passionate trade which left his partner missing his steps and leaning into the exchange. They broke away, keeping eye contact, but all Anthony could see was the jade of Jet’s irises.

There was back to chest dancing, which included some abs rubbing. Anthony used that particular move several times in various combinations. He displayed to Jet exactly how his body could respond to the right stimuli. During one of the ‘come’ lines, Anthony flopped his head back onto his partner’s shoulder, who moved his hands south, while Anthony faked a come face. It was as if Anthony was putting on a mating display.

As the last notes faded away an initially stunned audience erupted into clapping and cheers, whooping for more. The crew waved their good-byes, collected their clothes, and returned to the sanctity of the upper deck.

Laurie made the announcement, “Ladies and gentlemen. I hope you enjoyed the stellar performance from our boys. By the end of this flight, it will be available on DVD, and on our website. If you would like a copy, please notify your flight attendant.”

While the extra staff saw to the immediate needs of those downstairs, the entertainers completed an express change and helped settle the passengers with a final drink. Twenty minutes later Laurie dimmed the lights ready for a few hours’ sleep prior to landing in London.

Duties completed, Anthony had an hour or so to relax before returning to the lower deck. During sleep time there was a skeleton crew and rota system for tending to passengers. Anthony retired to the upstairs kitchen and donned a wry smile at a job well done—especially considering the emotions reflected on Jet’s face.

While Anthony made himself a drink, strong fingers wrapped around his wrist. Anthony was virtually dragged toward one of the private rooms farther down the plane. Stunned, he followed without complaint, unsure of what to expect. It took him a few moments to realize the hand holding his belonged to Jonathan Stone.

Jonathan closed the door behind Anthony, pulled down the privacy screening, and pinned him against it. The cabins weren’t big, although they were sufficient to give a person some isolation. They held two wide, fully reclining seats, comfortable enough to sleep on, and personal storage facilities between the seats and window.

Cupping Anthony’s face in his hands, Jet whispered, “You truly are gorgeous.
Please
, may I kiss you?”

With a gulp, Anthony nodded.

Jonathan’s lips descended. Small brushes of skin on skin became firmer… stronger. All Anthony’s fantasies were coming true. He responded in kind, wrapping his arms around Jet, pulling him closer. In a natural maneuver, Anthony opened his mouth to him. He wanted to savor… more. Jet accepted the invitation. As Jet’s tongue caressed Anthony’s, Tony whimpered. He moaned as Jet’s blend of coffee and honey fused to his taste buds.