“If it gets up to $200 a barrel, I can quite coaching and retire.” Clark grinned widely.

Jack glared at him and a streak of passing car headlight from out the stained glass window reflected off his bald head. “Don’t you fucking do that. You cost me a lot of money. You can’t be thinking like that.”

The other two men looked away, feeling awkward at where this conversation was going.

“More drinks, gentlemen?” The waiter in his tuxedo vest and bow tie had snuck up on the group.

All four were in their usual black suits.
Jack and Clark both burst out laughing.

“You shut the fuck up,” Clark pointed at him. His dark skin made his features hard to see in the dim club lights. “At $200, you won’t care who’s coaching for you, either.”

Jack grinned and waved at him. “I’m just pulling your chain.”

Clark gave him a sly look. “I don’t wear bling..”

Now all four men laughed.

Vince nodded at the waiter to give them another round of brandy.

Tom shook his head. “Clark? When is the last time you used the word ‘bling’? You’re the most refined of the bunch of us.”

Clark looked right in tom’s eye. “Having a variety of vocabulary is extremely important.”

Vince piped up, “When is the last time you said ‘variety of vocabulary’?”

Clark raised his glass. “To fucking vocabulary!”

The other three agreed with laughs and drank.

Jack fixed his purple tie.. “Who’s turn is it?”

Clark wore his usual red tie over a black shirt. “It was me last week.”

Vince grinned and said, “Sex on the gridiron, yeah that was a good one. I think it’s Tom’s turn.” His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and no tie. His gray fringe hair made him look like a young and heavier Patrick Stewart.

Tom, the youngest of the group, ran his hand through his blonde hair. He checked his red tie and cleared his throat. “Yes, my turn. Let me tell you all about the lovely and talented Melissa…”

“Gill, get on the fucking plane,” Tom looked at the man sitting in front of him. “We go, now.”

The man was large. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at Tom. “Yes, coach. I’m sorry, was just napping.”

Tom led Gil over to the gate where they each showed their passports and then entered the tunnel to the plane. The flight would be around five hours from Toronto to Vancouver.

Tom, the team’s defensive coordinator, sat in the third row of the economy class beside the team’s strength and conditioning coach, Clem Jackson.

“She’s hot,” Clem whispered. His white beard and hair were quite a contrast against his black skin.

Tom glanced around trying to find where Clem was looking. “Who?”

“Stewardess in first class.”

“Flight attendant,” Tom corrected.

“Shut the fuck up before I rip your lips off.”

Tom smiled at Clem before finding the woman in question. “Wow, she is hot,” Tom agreed a little too loud.

She was pouring coffee two rows inside the first class cabin, but her gaze found Tom after hearing the words. She was blonde, extraordinarily tall, with blue eyes that matched her blue attendant uniform.

Clem clucked his tongue and whispered, “You stupid shit.”

She vanished from view.

“What? She didn’t hear me.”

“Yeah, and she might not have rushed off had you kept your big trap shut.” Clem picked up his orange juice and sipped.

“Sir?” The female voice made both men jump. The blonde from first class stood over Tom’s aisle seat. “Might I ask to speak with you in private?”

Clem chuckled.

“Um, sure.” Tom tried to stand before falling back into his seat. Pulling open the metal flap, he released his seat belt before attempting to stand again, this time successfully.

Her name tag called her Melissa. She led Tom up to the first class cabin. She brought him up to the front row seat. As he passed, Tom noticed the cabin was empty except for one man who had a steaming cup of coffee in front of him in the second of three rows. The man had dark glasses on, a cane beside him and snored softly.

Tom sat in the front seat while the blonde Amazon attendant went back and pulled the curtain across the door to the cabin.

She sat beside him. “Sir, I could not help but overhear you talking.”

Tom sighed. “I know. It is sexist. Please don’t…”

“Don’t what?” She swung her right leg over and was quickly straddling him.

“Ah…” Tom looked at the cleavage that was staring at him from her unbuttoned top. He had not even noticed her doing that.

She reached down and dropped his zipper. Quickly she had his cock in her hand and stroked it to erection. Her skirt, now riding up high, revealed no underwear and made it very easy for his erection to slip between her legs. She rode him as the plane hit some chop, causing her to buck harder.

His head buried in her chest, Tom kept his mouth shut. So many questions, but enough smarts not to ask.

She pushed her mouth down on his shoulder, gagging her moans as her orgasm shook her.

Tom never did orgasm, but as she climbed off him, he was not going to complain.

The blind man across the aisle stirred and spilled his coffee. He screamed as the liquid landed in his lap.

The blonde quickly stood, already completely put back together. “Mr. Plumb, are you alright?”

“Bullshit!” Jack was not waiting for the others. “No blonde Amazon sleeps with you unless she’s stoned.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss.”

Clark chuckled. “Bullshit. Jack is right. In fact, I say no sober blonde sleeps with you, never mind Amazon.”

Tom rolled his eyes a second time.

Vincent did not need long either. “Bullshit. I was on that flight, you ass.”

Tom’s mouth dropped open.

“She slept with Clem!”

The men all roared with laughter.

Jack held up his hand and brought them all to silence. “We have a new record, gentlemen. Two weeks in a row and Tom is buying a round.”

Vince and Clark clinked glasses and finished their brandy so that Tom could refill their glasses.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.