The Flight Attendant
“Would you like another drink, sir?” the flight attendant with a blonde bob asks me.
I swear this woman is trying to get me drunk.
The flight is thirteen hours long, yet at only three hours in, I’m already four beers deep.
I’ll be sleeping well tonight.
“I’m good. Thanks…Victoria,” I respond, glancing at her name tag.
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything,” she says.
Her eyes flick down to the hand clutching the remainder of my fourth beer. I can’t help but think she’s searching for a ring.
She won’t find one.
“Really,” she continues, “if you need anything, just call for me.” The cute blonde points at the call button above my head.
Victoria walks away, swaying her hips ostentatiously. The woman clearly needs to get laid. Something I can relate to, but right now, my only vice is the bottom of a bottle—or in this case, a glass.
I’ve been abstinent since my wife died two and a half years ago.
The tan line on my ring finger only recently filled in; no longer seeing a silver band or a pale strip of flesh there has been difficult for me to deal with. As a result, I drown myself in work.
That’s why I’m on this flight, heading halfway across the world: to work myself to death because life has no meaning without my wife.
The global supply chain is a lucrative business. It’s what allows me to fly first class and indulge in the best of what life has to offer. Except that I don’t really enjoy much of anything anymore.
I gulp down the last bit of beer and place the glass in my cup holder. Victoria will retrieve it soon enough, and I’ll do my best to ignore her.
Beautiful women have no place in my life. Especially not temporary ones who work as flight attendants and flirt with the customers riding in their aircraft.
After reclining my chair back and selecting a movie, I settle in for the evening.
The lights in the cabin have already been dimmed, and most of the people in first class have closed the doors to their pods.
The doors are more like paperboard, but they offer some privacy amidst the noise of the aircraft and other passengers.
There’s a knock and soft voice addresses me from the other side of my door. “Sir, did you call for me?” Victoria asks.
“No,” I respond gruffly.
The door to my seat cracks open, and Victoria dips her head in, smiling sweetly.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“May I come in for a moment?” she asks shyly.
I stifle a groan as I look around at the small amount of floor space for her to stand in. The pod is designed so that I can change, although not easily, and also lie fully flat in the chair to sleep.
It’s insanely expensive to purchase this type of seating, but it helps me fight jet lag and allows me to be ready to work as soon as I leave the airplane.
Victoria steps in, pressing down on the pleated lines in her skirt.
“What can I do for you, Victoria?” I incline the chair, swiveling to face her. The tight space causes our knees to touch.
“This is entirely inappropriate, but I have to say it…,” she begins.
I have an inkling of what she is about to say. She’s going to proposition me, which I will politely decline, no matter how unprofessional, and I won’t even report her. She’s lucky I’m feeling generous.
Victoria stutters a bit as she explains. “Do you remember me at all? I’ve served you on this same flight for the past six months, and today is the first time you said my name... And you had to look at my name tag before you did.”
“And?” I ask, feeling slightly guilty for not noticing her before.
“I just want to know, am I that unnoticeable?”
“Oh…” I don’t even know how to respond. In all honesty, I feel like a dick for not only assuming she was hitting on me but also failing to notice that the same person has been serving me on every flight I’ve been taking overseas.
I’m an asshole.
“I’m sorry. It’s not you; I just zone out on these flights.”
“Really? Because I serve you a lot of drinks. It’s not like we crossed paths once on this flight. We have talked a lot!”
Her words spill out like she’s been holding them in for a while, but she remains hushed, aware that the thin paperboard door only stifles so much sound.
“Look, I’m sorry…” I have no other explanation.
“It’s okay,” Victoria says, looking around sheepishly.
I want to make her feel better. “I honestly thought you were coming in here to proposition me or something, but I’m glad you called me out... I’ve been a dick.”
Her eyebrows shoot up and she repeats questioningly, “Proposition you?”
If I was trying to improve this situation and look less like a dick, revealing my internal thoughts was not the way to do it. “Um... That was the wrong thing to say.”
“Yeah, it was. I mean, you’re hot and all, but I’ve mainly been more offended by the fact that you haven’t even noticed that I serve you on every flight.”
Victoria’s lips press into a thin, determined line and she crosses her arms.
“It won’t happen again,” I promise.
“Good,” she says, turning on her heel to exit the pod.
Right as Victoria pushes on the door, turbulence hits and she stumbles backward. Her ass plops into my lap. The plane shakes, and I am forced to hold on to the only thing within reach—the flight attendant.
When the shock of the plane’s abrupt jerking stops, Victoria’s neck cranes to the side. Her cheeks are cherry blossom red.
“Sorry,” I say, releasing my grip around her stomach.
The hemline of her skirt has slid up from the jostling of the plane, and her ass is stuck against my lap. I can nearly see the peak between her thighs—only pantyhose blocks my view of whatever lies beneath.
I find myself entranced by this area. It’s been so long since I saw another woman. I haven’t even looked at porn since my wife’s death. I haven’t been this close to a woman in years.
“Sir?” Victoria asks, but my hold around her waist tightens as my balls contract.
I swallow the dry, bulging lump in my throat. “Victoria,” I say.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispers, no doubt feeling my erection against her back.
“I’m sorry.” I lean my forehead against her back and inhale her sweet floral scent.
I forgot how amazing women smell. The richness of their scent, the smoothness of their skin. I’ve withheld my desire for too long. Work and booze have sated me, but with Victoria so close, I need something else.
“Sorry.” I release her, and she stands.
My pants are straining, and Victoria can’t take her eyes off me. I don’t know why she doesn’t leave, but I need to take care of this. I need privacy.
“Sir,” she whispers again.
“What?” I ask gravely as I adjust myself. It’s not as if she can’t see all of it anyway.
She can’t finish her sentence, so I finish it for her. “I’m hard.”
Victoria’s mouth hangs open and her eyes lock onto my penis. I think one of my earlier assessments was correct: She needs to get laid.
“Victoria, unless there’s something you need, I really need to take care of some business,” I say.
She nods her head in understanding and turns to leave. Suddenly, she halts. “Is it the type of business I might be able to assist you with, sir?” she asks.
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