ow, it's my first shift on the Chicago to Miami flight and I am a little reluctant. Beverly, the Flight Attendant I am replacing, says that you can gage the flight by how droopy Elaine's panty hose are. Elaine is the Senior Attendant; she is the quintessential flight attendant with an emphasis on cock pit!

My best friend Marsha is working this flight with me. Last time I worked with her, was on the overnight to London. She packed her vibrator in her flight bag and set off all the alarms! Practically caused an International Incident!

The passengers are steadily boarding the plane, I am locking and loading, that's airplane talk for securing the overhead baggage, when out of the corner of my eye I see my potential new husband.

I rush up to First Class to tell Marsha to take a look at this one. As we flew through the curtains, I saw him fumbling with his briefcase in the overhead compartment. Like the Cavalry, I was there in a jiffy to help. With a quick look can, I could tell he was on business. He had no rings that were visible and he really looked great in that extra starched shirt he was wearing. My first instinct was to bump him up to First Class, but I had to wait until all those other assholes boarded.

I introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Skip, your flight attendant, and if there is anything at all I can do to make this the best flight ever, just let me know". I could tell he knew exactly what I meant too. He looked at me and with a smile that lit up the cabin said "thanks, Skip, I sure will".

The Captain turned on the seatbelt sign and it was time to do the presentation. You know the one, where your seats can be used as a floatation devise, that's bullshit! If you are heading toward a water landing, you don't need some fucking flight attendant telling you what to grab! It isn't like I need Leonardo DeCaprio telling me to hang on! Ok, back to Mr. 23A, that's him, I didn't get his name yet.
I checked with Marsha in First Class, and she had a couple of empties so before we took drink orders and
handed out those pathetic bags of peanuts, I walked up to Mr. 23A and told him he looked a bit cramped in his seat, maybe he would like move to First Class. He looked at me and I was blinded by his smile as he said sure if it's not a problem.

The only problem was how I was going to shove him in the restroom and have my way with him.

I escorted him to First Class, we tucked his belongings away and the race was on to see if I could finish waiting on my aisles and get back to him while I was fresh in his mind.

It was a record 10 minutes after the Seatbelt sign went off and I was on my way to fly his friendly skies. His name was Robert he said, "But, you can call me Bob". Of course we started off with small talk which was far too much chit chat for me. It did however give me time to put me hand on his leg and start to caress it. The Captains voice came over the speaker "we are moving to a higher altitude, you may experience a chill in the cabin".

Bingo! As I got up to see if anybody needed a blanket. I reached up and got Bob a blanket and draped it over him ever so lovingly. He said to me "but I'm not cold" and I replied you're going to need it. I quickly attended to my section of the plane and returned to Bob's side. Again we engaged in small talk as my hand crept under his blanket. Jackpot, I reached the Promised Land. I now had in my hand, a scud missile! In my profession time is of the essence, so quietly he told me how good I was and as I stroked his huge pocket rocket, he shot a load that was felt across the airwaves.

Well, my work here was done. He thanked me and I told him it was my pleasure, after all we are the Friendly Skies!

Tim McCanless