The Mile High Club

"I'm coming back." I said out loud as I closed the lid on my foot locker. In this footlocker were pornos, porno mags, clothing, cd's and books--all of the personal effects I wanted to keep safe from the prying eyes of a subletter. There's no way I will spend longer than a month in Los Angeles. I closed and locked the door of my Morningside Heights apartment and hailed a taxi to LGA with two pieces of luggage and one carry-on.

Also with me were three dildos in good condition that Matt had left me in his will, no chew marks. Two were in my carry on. One was in my Vintage LV Valise from ebay that always fetches compliments at airports. Foolishly, I didn't realize that luggage gets xrayed, and I was about to pay the price.

I went cold when I saw my carryon go through the conveyor, and blanched as the contents of it registered on the monitor, big enough for everyone to see. I usually get hassled by airport security when I have any type of facial hair, and usually my luggage will be flagged due to the metal eyelash curler that looks like a weapon in my shaving kit, but I had never experienced airport sex toy panic until today. What the entire American Airlines terminal at Laguardia saw were two inhumanely sized dildoes, nestled quietly against an iPod and a bag of cashews in my carry-on. My lower jaw dropped a little, and it caught the eye of the security attendant whose nametag read "Toneesha." After she was done swiping my body with the metal detector wand, she patted my tush with a glimmer in her eye. Toneesha will keep my secret. I repeated that to myself as I walked to the gate.

I boarded the plane without event, and had just completed my 10 minute "where are you going? what do you do? why are you traveling alone?" schpiel to a spooky, ghoulish woman in heavy eye makeup next to me. Afterwards, a very tall and built white guy walked up to my seat and chatted me up. He was about 27, with really shaggy blond hair, freckles, a perfect nose, and a really sexy space between his front teeth. He wore a polo shirt and cutoff khakis with a neck adornment made of hemp rope. One of those rare, hairy blond guys, he was tall and built and his name was Alvin.

1 hour into the flight, when the fasten seat belts light went off and we were free to roam about the cabin, Alvin walked up to my seat and knelt down. "I saw what you have in your carry-on. Meet me in the lav in 5 minutes, and bring that bag." he commanded.

15 minutes later, I had my dead friend's dildo up my ass, spreadeagled under an extremely dominant, extremely diligent, dildo expert. I never imagined that sex with a guy named Alvin could be hot. He took me to a really kinky realm called "erotic sex with mind-numbing fear of getting caught." I was sure the airplane was going to crash, and the walls of the lavatory would explode, showing everyone how I looked getting fucked, right before we all died, but I didn't care. All I could think about was how masterful this young man was, and how excited he made me feel. He had a smile on his face from ear to ear, but all I actually remember was his evil eye. I had never seen such a look of hunger on a man's face before. I recall him ripping open a condom with his teeth, and fucking me until I quickly shot a very hot load of semen all over the floor. Moments later, I remembered his semen splattering into my face, but that's it.

20 minutes later, I was back in my seat by the ghoulish 95 pound woman. I had stirred her from a nap, and she started telling me that she was going to visit a man she had met over the internet, and then she started with a story about the night she was crowned runner up for Miss New Hampshire 1978, but the only thing I could concentrate on was that hungry look of desire in Alvin's eyes. I have got to find someone to make feel that way on a regular basis.