Illiad was an older 737. About ready for retirement, the stallion was the lead of Southwest's band at Ft. Lauterdale. And as such, he was the designated stud. The one who produced the new generation of 737's for the airline and just about everyone else here at the airport. So when he detected the scent of a female in heat, he immediately went on the hunt. The female's scent was unfamiliar to him so she must've been a newcomer but he recognized the smells of a Boeing. So she was his type then, good. He made his way across the field, following the scent nose to the ground. Approaching the runway he paused and assumed a flehmen position. The scent was stronger here which meant the female he was tracking was parked somewhere on this side of the airport. Only the big planes parked over here, United 747s mostly as well as cargo planes like FedEx DC-10s. Illiad hadn't mated one of those in a while and the last one had been an experience he wasn't keen on repeating. Still though, he followed his nose and his instincts. The scent took him far down the taxiway and away from the cargo planes, past the United ramp. He came across a few C-17s who were also closing in. So he had competition then. One might think that a 737 would never dare pick a fight with a transport as large as a C-17 but Illiad was known for picking the bigger planes. His smaller size meant he could get at the softer underbelly of the bigger transports while they could only get at his hardened back.
Their target, the female, was a 747 if that distinctive hump was anything to go by. Unusual since all 747 females in active service chose to take suppressants for their heat cycles. This one was clearly in active service. She wasn't chocked in place and her engines were authentic and working. She appeared to be sweating in the hot summer heat, jaws parted. Her rudder flicked side to side on occasion as fluid dripped from her APU. She was in the prime of her heat cycle, the perfect time to mate. The C-17s stood off allowing Illiad his opportunity.
Angel was growing more frustrated and impatient with each passing hour. She hadn't expected her time of the month to happen now! Usually she took powerful suppressants to ward off the cycle but this time she was caught off guard. And being caught without suppressants meant that this one was going to be stronger than average. The C-17s knew, they could smell it just as surely as every aircraft within the state no doubt could. But their military bearings were holding, for now. The same could not be said for the civilian sector however.
Angel eyed the Southwest 737 male that approached her with indifference. Maybe if she ignored him, he'd go away. Instead, her attitude only enticed him. She got a glimpse of his extender, already fully stretched. Again, his lip curled up as he took in her scent. He drew every closer, well within the zone established by security. Angel was beginning to regret sending them away now as they did not enjoying standing so close to the expressing mare-hen. The male got even closer until his nose pressed against her flank. He lowered his head beneath her tail, getting a noseful of her APU as he breathed in the scent of her heat. Angel growled, control surfaces dropping down to flick him on the head. He got the message and backed off but only to nuzzle her side. "Getting acquainted" as it were. Angel tried everything. She kicked at him when he tried to mount her and lashed out with her military grade fangs. But the more she tried to ward him off, the more enticed he got. He was clearly interested and nothing she did could get him off her tail. She moved around her taxiway, with him following no more than a length away. Her own instants were responding to his presence, the consequence of being in heat. And Angel had no way to "suppress" them. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to anymore. The male was clearly the dominant stallion here. His hull was marked with evidence of battles in which he emerged victorious. Angel could only guess what happened to his opponents but he seemed more like the time to chase them away rather than kill them as some more aggressive aircraft had been known to do.
Angel sighed, turning to face him. She checked him out, sniffing and nuzzling his flank. He held still for her, knowing that patience was the key rather than just sheer brute force as other younger males often tried to impose themselves upon a female. But wisdom came with experience and Illiad certainly had a lot of experience! Once her inspection was complete, Angel turned her side to him, head cocked in an inviting gesture. Illiad's instincts gave an excited spasm. At last, this female was allowing him to mount her. He had to stretch to get around her tail but once in position it was child's play from there. She shifted under him, clearly not used to the weight on her back. She was clearly mature and surely had gone through other cycles before this one. Perhaps she had simply forgotten her suppressants this time. No matter, she had allowed him to claim her and that was what Illiad cared about.
The process was complete in 5 seconds and he dismounted, retracting his extender. Her rudder flicked to the side again, letting off excess fluid. If she remained here, it was likely they would mate again several times more to ensure the onset of pregnancy. She nipped his nose harshly, telling him in no uncertain terms that she was not "his" nor anyone's. This was a one time thing. Illiad accepted that. His part was done and looking her over, he could see a strong robust and healthy frame that would carry a good litter. (737's produce up to 6 at a time!) He pressed his muzzle to her wingroot, noting her livery for the first time now that the haze of instinct had been taken care of for now. That white back with the blue underbelly, head and tail, wasn't that... oh shit!