"Hot thing, barely twenty-one
Hot thing, looking for big fun
Hot thing, what's your fantasy?
Hot thing, do you want to play with me?"
Prince – "Hot Thing"
Fa'aana stood in the aisle of the business class section of the plane watching passengers board at a snail's pace. She scratched the back of her neck while keeping an eye out for people who needed help.
The last few days had been a breeze with the flight team she was working with. Mark, Mavis, Lucy, and herself were in sync and had the uncanny ability to anticipate what they all needed from each other at any given moment. The long haul they were about to embark on from Italy back to Atlanta was going to be packed. When she checked the passenger manifest, there were only about seven open seats available.
She and Mark were able to catch a fantastic brunch at the hotel they stayed overnight in while on a layover in Rome. Munching on a croissant with a thick smothering of Nutella and the best espresso ever, she detailed the birthday dinner she had with Hugh back in the states.
Mark didn't seem impressed, and after sharing the deets, she realized it was a pretty poor date. They visited the Atlanta aquarium first because she loved the place, but Hugh gave off bored vibes so they left early. The restaurant he made reservations for had pretty bland food despite the expensive menu and all the hype she had heard about it. The strip club he took her to afterward that she was excited about going to wasn't as impressive as she had hoped. The exotic dancers were athletic and did amazing things on the pole, but all the music sounded the same and all the women looked cut from the same cloth: Ultra-colorful wigs. Overly injected ass cheeks and breasts augmented into unnatural sizes and shapes that looked uncomfortable. Plus, all the bored facial expressions.
She wanted a sexy good time that would lead to some amazing sex with Hugh, but instead, he served her mediocre peen. Bad food, bad company, and bad sex. Ugh.
The only highlight of her birthday was finding herself on the lap of a stranger getting fingered on the back of the plane almost a week ago. Forty-Seven G. Erik from Oakland. Thinking of him made her nipples perk up. She hadn't cum like that since…wow, when had she ever cum like that? It was explosive. Primal. It felt like he was introducing her to her own vagina for the first time.
She sighed thinking about him.
After he made her cum, she had to go into the lavatory and change her panties from the fresh pack she had in her carry-on stored in the galley. She wanted to reciprocate the pleasure back to him, but Mark had woken up and they had to prep for the breakfast run before landing and serve a few early coffees and juices. She felt bad because his erection was something she wanted to see and touch.
Before Erik left the plane, she had given him her number because he had promised to send her a picture of himself at the wedding he was attending. Two days later, as promised, a number she didn't recognize popped up on her phone with two attachments. One was a picture of Erik smiling with a bride and groom, and the other was a candid shot of Erik straightening his bow tie.
He was disgustingly photogenic, and she wished she had never asked for a picture because now she would be stuck with a memory of a man she would never see again. He knew how to wear a tux, and he knew how to serve face for the camera. And those damn dimples. Yummy.
She texted the number back thanking him for the picture and she was so glad that she hadn't sent anything else beyond that message because the response she got back was not from Erik, but from a woman who said he asked her to send the pictures. So much for that. He didn't want her to have his number apparently.
She did catch herself staring at the pictures every now and then, and then she would get a shiver up her spine thinking of his lips and his fingers…
"If there are some open seats available, do you think I could move to one of them?"
Fa'aana was broken from her thoughts of Erik and found herself staring into the eyes of a pink-faced older man who seemed disgusted that he had to sit next to a couple with a small child that looked to be about five.
"Once everyone is seated and we know our final headcount, I will let you know," she said.
"Thank you," he said glaring at the couple.
She was tempted to ignore him and pretend they were full even if they weren't. The child had been nothing but quiet and polite since she was placed in her seat. Some people just hated children for no reason.
Fa'aana saw Lucy waving to her from the first-class section. She made her way up the aisle to see what Lucy needed.
"Do you mind taking this and storing it in the back? All the bins up here are filled up."
"No, problem," Fa'aana said grabbing a small roller bag.
The hairs on her neck stood up when she saw Erik walk aboard. The same round black shades, a magenta jacket over a white t-shirt and gray jeans, and that same swagger. He was with a light-skinned Black woman and a white man waiting to head into the first-class section.
"Fa'anna, one more small bag, please. Thanks," Lucy said.
Erik turned his head when he heard her name. She couldn't see his eyes behind the dark frames. There was no hint of recognition really, not even a smile. He heard her name, turned to look at her and then kept it moving up into first.
Oh, it's like that?
Fa'aana headed to the rear of the plane with the bags feeling a bit vexed. The least he could've done was given a head nod or even a "W'sup." Nothing. Nada. Zilch. A cursory glance and then he was stepping. That's why she didn't fuck with young dudes. That man had played all up in her pussy, watched her face and thighs have an intense orgasm too, and he walked by her like he didn't know her.
Well. Be honest. He didn't know her. He probably didn't expect to see her again either. And if the roles were reversed, what would she say to him?
Let it be.
Fa'aana found space for the bags and went back to Lucy to inform her of the aisle numbers so the passengers would know where to retrieve them. She saw the back of Erik's head in first-class. He was seated next to the light-skinned woman who was having a heated conversation with the white man who came with them and was seated behind them.
"My oh my," Lucy said giving Fa'aana a look.
"What's up?"
"A little lovers spat," Lucy said glancing back over at Erik and his companions.
"The Black guy and woman—"
"No. The woman next to him is with the white guy behind her. She made the Black guy switch seats with the white guy."
Fa'aana saw Erik talking to the woman and she was shaking her head and pointing her finger at the man behind her. It was difficult to hear anything from them clearly, but it sounded like Erik was saying "Not my problem."
"Hopefully they simmer down soon," Lucy said.
Fa'aana nodded, but her eyes were still on Erik's face. Mark strolled up to them.
"So we have seven open seats available, three in the back, and four in business," he said.
"Be discreet, but if two of you want to fill in the seats in the back, do it," Lucy said.
"Cool," Fa'aana said taking one last look at Erik, then heading back to her station.
###
Turbulence.
They hit some on the way out of Italy and had to endure more as they passed over France. Fa'aana and the other flight attendants had to wait to do snack and beverage runs. By the time they were halfway over France, the airstream was smooth again.
They made swift work of giving out snacks and libations. She moved the pink-faced complainer to another seat and helped an elderly passenger up to the business class restroom and back. By the time the dinner run was complete two hours later and cleaned up, she was able to kick back for a moment and rub her feet. She snagged an empty aisle seat in fifty-seven G but had to keep getting up for some wine thirsty passengers.
She was mixing a Bloody Mary when she heard a soft "Hey."
Glancing up she saw Erik leaning against a panel next to one of the lavatories. Dark glasses off, his face looked soft and open. She stared at him for a moment.
"Just a sec," she said moving past him to deliver the drink in her hand.
She felt her heart do a little double time. When she turned to walk back to the galley, he was watching her approach. She stepped past him and moved further into the galley. Mavis was in a seat in business class and Mark was sitting on the other side in seat fifty-two A. She had the galley to herself. Normally she would tell passengers they couldn't be near the galley. But this was different.
"Thanks for the pictures," she said trying to figure out the best opening.
"The wedding was great," he said.
Standing near him was so different than when they had been sitting next to each other, and when she had been sprawled across his lap. He towered over her…
"When you came aboard, I thought you didn't recognize me," she said, "is it the hair?"
She twirled a finger into her thick twist out hairstyle.
"Nah, I wouldn't forget you, trust," he drawled out, "I was just caught up with some drama."
"That's what I hear," she said.
"Whatchu hear?"
"The woman you were with seemed upset about something. You had to switch seats."
"Yeah, Chloe. My Ex."
"Who is the guy with you two?"
"Her boyfriend."
"What? Oh, I need to hear this," she said. She gave him a friendly smile. He moved in closer so that he was no longer near the two lavatories. She could really feel his height now. The vibratory hum of the plane masked their conversation.
"Nah, this shit is boring—"
"To you maybe. You go to friend's wedding and your ex-Girlfriend is there with her current boyfriend…and now the three of you are bosom buddies riding in first-class together. Yeah, total dullsville."
He laughed.
"Ain't no bosom buddies—"
"Speak then. How long ago has she been your Ex?"
"A year—"
"Wait, how old is she?"
"Twenty-four."
"How old is he?"
"Thirty."
"So, what happened?"
"First of all, it wasn't a surprise that she was going to be at this wedding. My boy already let me know that she was going to be there with her new man. She and I been cool for a minute, so it wasn't like shit was going to pop off when we saw each other. She introduced me to her man and everything was cool breezy y'know, mellow and shit. Wedding was dope as hell. But I notice that her man is making these reckless comments about her that I don't think is cool. Like he's saying shit to try and fit in because the majority of the people there are Black—"
"What was he saying?"
"Dumb shit not even worth repeating. So I pull her aside and tell her that I think her man is only with her because she's Black, but the type of Black that white guys like—"
"Which is?"
"Ambiguous Black women. Light bright, wavy hair…but this dude has a thing for big asses too….which I can understand…but still, I was getting fetish vibes. She and I have always been 100 with one another so I felt comfortable giving her my opinion. She didn't believe me so I just let it go."
His voice was getting heated telling the story. His facial expressions were interesting to watch.
"We're all doing the wedding party stuff and having a good time for four days. But then last night, she gets drunk and they start arguing over some personal shit, and my name gets thrown in there and he accuses her of wanting to sleep with me. I have no interest in her whatsoever. She's an Ex for a hella good reason…"
He shook his head.
"You don't need to hear all this boring ass shit. They got issues and I'm not going back up there until they go to sleep or something."
"You better go back up there and enjoy your first class—"
"I didn't pay for that. She upgraded my ticket, and that just added fuel to the fire. I was hoping to eat my fancy food and mind my business, but they kept at it."
"You can't stand for seven hours."
"Any open seats back here?"
"There's an aisle seat that's open. There's a man in the window seat—"
"Show me," he said.
She moved past him and pointed out the aisle seat that she had vacated.
"Yo, my man, you want to switch seats? You can have my first-class spot."
The passenger who had been trying to get comfortable against the window looked shocked.
"Are you serious?" he asked.
Erik handed him his first-class ticket receipt. Fa'aana nodded to the passenger.
"Wow, thanks a lot buddy," the man said as he stood up and took the ticket stub.
"Enjoy," Erik said.
"That was nice of you," she said.
"Be right back, I need to get my computer bag."
She watched him walk the long trek up to first-class. A passenger requested her assistance and she tended to them, bringing another blanket and a bottle of water.
She was making herself a cup of tea when Erik slipped back into the galley to stand near her.
"All good?"
"They sleep. Didn't even see me leave."
"Nice."
"How was your birthday dinner with your boyfriend?"
"Trash."
He laughed and she laughed with him. She ran it down for him without mention of the bad sex and he shook his head.
"You went to the wrong strip club, Ma. I know some places down there you should go to."
"You going to take me?"
"Next time I roll through."
"Hit me up then."
She waited to see how he would react to that.
"I got your number, girl."
"Alright. We'll see," she said.
She turned and sprinkled a sugar packet into her tea and she felt him get close behind her, his body heat radiating into her back. He leaned down to her ear.
"I ain't forgot about the last time I saw you," he whispered.
She closed her eyes and put down the tea. Sweet cornrowed Jesus.
"Erik, I'm working."
"You were working last time too—"
"Erik!"
He jerked back from her when he heard the shrill female voice.
"Chloe," he said stepping out of the galley and back into the aisle.
Fa'aana ducked her head out and sipped on her tea. Chloe's face was flush, her lank dark hair swept to one side of her left shoulder. Her thick lips were curled up into a scowl.
"You just let some strange man come sit next to me?" she hissed to Erik.
He pulled her closer to the lavatories and the galley.
"I'm not tryna hear your bullshit, Chloe. I said what I had to say and I'm done—"
"No, we're not done. Come back to the front—"
"Nah—"
Chloe clutched at Erik's arm.
Fa'aana stepped forward using her trained de-escalation voice.
"Ma'am, I'm going to need for you to go take your seat."
"You just mind your damn business. Go serve some coffee or something," Chloe said with a clipped voice.
"Don't talk to Fa'aana like that—"
"You know this bitch?" Chloe said stepping toward Fa'aana like she was ready to throw hands.
Fa'aana felt her neck tilt.
This heffa could catch some hands…
Erik stepped in front of Chloe.
"Take your ass back to your seat."
Fa'aana and Chloe both heard the rumble in his voice. It made Chloe's face switch up real quick and Fa'aana's knees quake.
"Erik, baby, I just want to talk…"
Chloe's tone had shifted. Coquettish. Soft. Pacifying. She was trying to wrap him around her finger. Fa'aana wanted him to wrap his hand around her own throat and choke her slowly while talking forcefully like that again. She imagined him bending her over—
Erik's eyes swept back to look at her.
"Sorry about this," he said. His face looked tired like he had been dealing with Chloe and her boyfriend all day and he was just weary of it. A passenger light signal went off and Fa'aana was happy for the distraction.
"I'll need you both to return to your seats please," she said in her professional voice. She left them to go tend to the service call.
A woman with a French accent wanted water for some aspirin she was taking. Fa'aana went to retrieve it and across the aisle, she saw Erik walking back to first-class with Chloe.
###
Sitting in the aisle seat, Fa'aana started a game of Blackjack on the vid screen in front of her. The cabin had quieted down and she could finally rest her feet after completing several walk-throughs checking on passengers. Most were asleep or trying to sleep.
"Mind if I sit in my seat?"
Erik watched her face as her finger lingered on the vid screen. She started to scoot over.
"I want the window," he said.
She stood up and let him haul his body over to the window. He took off his jacket and sat it on his lap.
"Sorry about that Chloe shit," he said.
"Already forgotten," she said starting a new game on the vid screen.
He reached for her hand on the screen and held it.
"Nah, for real. That wasn't cool."
"So that's the type of women you go for?"
"Chloe is a little hot-headed—"
"Entitled—"
"That too sometimes."
"What did you ever see in her?"
"She's fine—"
"Typical—"
"Typical? Men like fine women. Physical beauty is what we see first. Straight up."
Fa'aana rolled her eyes.
"Women do it too. Don't act like y'all don't check for fine niggas," he said.
"Why did you break up with her? That sparkling personality of hers didn't keep your interest?"
Erik's eyes dropped to his hands.
"She's looking for a husband, picket fence, kids, all that rah rah. I felt like she was grooming me to take home to her parents. I'm too young for all that. I got shit to do and I have my own timetable for how I want my life to proceed. She didn't respect that. Got a little pushy so I bounced."
"What's your timetable?"
"Finish grad school. Then I'm going into the Navy. Become a Seal—"
"Wait, grad school and then the Navy? You don't strike me as a military man."
"I graduated from Annapolis before going to M.I.T. Been training for this life for a minute."
His eyes were so focused when he talked about his plans. She noticed a silver chain around his neck with a heavy and expensive-looking silver-black ring on it. She reached out and touched it and his hand shot out to pull it away from her.
"Sorry. I should've asked to touch it. It's beautiful."
His hand released her hand and she turned the ring with her fingers.
"It belonged to my father. He was killed when I was younger."
"Sorry to hear that, Erik. What language is this writing on it?"
"Wakandan. East Africa. My father was from there."
His demeanor became somber. This was something painful for him. She released the necklace and he tucked it inside of his shirt. They were silent together for a moment. She stepped away from her seat to go check the galley and to see if any passengers made any service calls. There were none and hadn't been any for a long time. The people in front of them and across from them were knocked out with headphones on and movies playing.
Back at the seat, Erik had fired up his own game. When she plopped down next to him, he seemed more cheerful.
"I didn't think I would run into you again," he said.
"Me neither, but there was always the small chance."
"You were hoping to see me, huh?"
Her lips curled up in a sly smile.
"You can admit it. I wanted to see you again myself. You been on my mind the whole time I was in Rome…"
She felt herself getting warm again. His voice was low and he was giving her bedroom eyes that she couldn't resist. He lifted up the middle armrests.
"C'mere," he said reaching for her.
"Erik, there are too many people—"
"Give me those pretty lips, girl…"
Her body ignored her brain, and she was scooting over to him and giving up her mouth freely.
"Hmmm, you taste so sweet," he said. He sucked on her tongue, the cranberry and apple tea was still strong on her breath. His right hand reached up and touched her blouse, his fingers feeling for her left breast. He tweaked her nipple and then his whole hand squeezed her plum-sized breast. He released her lips from his and his forehead pressed against hers.
"Open this up," he breathed out to her.
She didn't move.
"We're good, no one is paying attention. I want to touch you. Let me touch you," he whispered. His full lips were taunting her. He was nothing but trouble. Good trouble.
She allowed her fingers to open only four buttons, just enough to let him get his hand inside. He opened a fifth button himself and thrust his warm hand down on her. The thin silk of her bra cup was forced aside so that his fingers found her pebbled nipple. He pinched it and she gasped.
"Erik…"
His fingers went to her other nipple and plucked at it. His mouth found hers again and he pulled her closer to his side. He tongued her down until her toes had curled and uncurled several times. He released her lips and she felt breathless. His hand reached under his jacket.
"You owe me," he said. She saw him tugging on himself under the jacket. She squirmed in her seat, her hips rotating slowly from need. He pushed his jacket aside and unfastened his jeans.
"Play with my dick."
Her hand slid down and reached for his pants.
"I want to see you pull it out."
She used both hands, one to pull back his boxers, the other to release the bulge that waited for her. When she gripped his erection, he let out a soft groan.
"Soft ass hands…"
She pulled out his dick. It was so heavy and so full of heat. Fuck. The weight of it made her mouth water. She stroked him.
"Ooh, yeah, just like that. Keep doing that."
She circled the head with her fingers and he widened his legs pulling down on his boxers so that his balls were accessible for her too. His fat sack was so hot to the touch.
"Stroke that shit. Make me feel it, Ma."
She whimpered, fisting him just under the mushroom head, hitting his frenulum and twisting her fingers a bit.
"How you know my spot already, girl?" he gasped, shifting in his seat. Beads of pre-cum seeped out and dripped on her fingers. She played with it and rolled it across the wide head. His slit leaked more.
"You want to taste me? Go 'head, put your mouth on that shit," he said.
She lowered her head and licked the clear fluid. More spilled out and she gobbled it up.
"Stick your tongue on that hole…yeah…just like that…I got some more for you."
She squeezed the head and his natural lubricant trickled out onto her wet tongue. She smacked her lips and looked up at him.
"Let me stretch that mouth," he said. She moaned. She cared about nothing else at that moment. They could fire her for all she cared. She just needed this man's fast ass cock in her mouth.
He thrust up his hips and the bulbous head touched her lips. She opened as wide as she could and took him in. His lips pressed together tightly as he swallowed a deep groan. Her head bobbed in his lap and his left hand hovered above her hair, touching her head and pushing down when he wanted her to go deeper...harder.
When she raised up to catch her breath after she started gagging, he pulled on her hair. He gripped his dick and squeezed the head so that his wide slit opened.
"Spit on my dick," he said.
She swirled her tongue in her mouth collecting saliva and spit on the head making his dick sloppy wet.
"You like being nasty, huh? Spit on it again, bitch."
She felt her stomach twist up and a strong pulse made her pussy throb from his words. She spit on his dick again and then he was shoving it back in her mouth. He reached for his jacket and used it to cover her lower half. His left hand frantically raised up her skirt and then shoved down into her stockings. She wiggled her hips so that his fingers could reach her panties and soaked folds.
"Damn…you know how to suck dick…swallow this shit baby…yeah… keep going…keep going…"
Her folds were so wet and her pussy so engorged, he was able to slip his fingers in and out with ease. He flicked her clit in a delicious rhythm and she felt an orgasm building. He was making her work her neck out as he fucked her face trying his best to keep quiet. He was beginning to inhale with harsh sounds.
"I'm 'bout to feed you, girl. You betta swallow this nut—"
That's all it took. Her release was tight on his fingers, her walls throbbing with intense pleasure that made her skin tingle.
"Ohhhhhh…" Erik groaned, his legs seizing up tight as a hot load of cum shot up into her mouth. His dick swelled in her mouth and she felt it spasm several times. She swallowed what she could and then had to let him go because she was choking on his girth.
"Damn, girl, damn."
She held onto his cock as a final stream of creamy white spilled out from him. He looked down at his dick.
"Clean me up. Lick all that shit up."
She did what she was told to do. His fingers were still inserted in her pussy. And she was grateful for his touch.
"Fuck, that was a lot," he said.
She giggled and sat up. He re-fastened his pants. She fixed her skirt and buttoned up her blouse. He stuck two of his fingers in her mouth.
"You suck dick like a champ. World class head game, baby."
She circled her tongue around his fingers then pulled them out, licking up and down each digit.
"You should be ashamed of yourself. Sucking dick on the job…"
"That's good customer service," she quipped.
"You right, Ma. Serving excellence. I'ma tell your boss to give you a raise when I leave."
She felt her face flatten.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head and pulled back from him. Passengers around them were still knocked out.
"Hey, Fa'aana, w'sup?"
Stupid. It was stupid. She was catching feelings.
"I need to freshen up," she said.
He pulled her in tight and fast.
"I'm feeling you too, Ma."
When his lips pressed into hers and she gave into his tongue and the heat of his mouth, she knew he wasn't lying.