by GA Hauser
“Oh?” Owen had to stifle a laugh at that comment. “And what if they didn’t move?”
“They’d move. I have my ways.” Taylor leaned against Owen’s shoulder.
Owen was so thrilled Taylor was with him, he couldn’t stop grinning like a madman. “So, uh, how was your weekend?”
“All right. Didn’t really do too much. How was yours? You have a good time with your daughter?”
Once they had leveled off and the seatbelt sign had shut off, Owen noticed the drink cart coming their way. “Yes, I suppose. She’s at that age where a good time means shopping at the mall.”
“Ah.” Taylor nodded, looking over at the cart as well.
They both went for their wallets. Owen stayed Taylor’s hand and said, “I get the first one this time.”
Smiling as if he knew something Owen didn’t, Taylor replied, “Yes, you will.”
Seeing that naughty expression, Owen had to wait to inquire what Taylor’s comment was all about when the stewardess leaned over to place napkins on their tray tables. “What would you like to drink?”
“A beer for Mr. Madison, and I’d like a bottle of chardonnay, please.” Owen handed her a ten-dollar bill.
She set their drinks down along with two bags of peanuts before she moved on her way.
Looking over the seat to make sure she wasn’t within hearing distance, Owen whispered, “What did you mean, I will? I have a feeling you weren’t talking about the drinks.”
Taylor shifted around in the tight space, then produced a small plastic bag from his leather jacket pocket and tossed it on Owen’s lap under the tray table.
Owen glanced around nervously, then peeked in. “Holy shit!”
Taylor burst into hysterical laughter, trying to bite it back by covering his mouth with his hand.
Immediately, Owen opened his wine bottle and poured a full glass. Taking a gulp, downing most of it, Owen looked over at Taylor’s incredibly handsome face. In a hushed voice, he asked, “Did you just buy these?”
“Yeah. The minute I knew you were going to be on the flight. So? What do you say? Wanna join the Mile High Club?”
Mile High Club? Owen thought that sounded vaguely familiar. Where had he heard it before?
As if Taylor could see he was perplexed, he leaned over Owen’s shoulder to whisper in his ear, “Getting screwed while on a plane.”
Choking in awe, Owen felt the greatest rush of pure adrenalin coursing through his veins. “You…you mean, screw in that tiny bathroom?”
Taylor shrugged, sipping his beer.
Anal sex? Owen kept repeating those two words in his head. A bag containing prophylactics and lubrication sat on his lap. Yes, that was what he had on his lap!
Nudging Owen’s arm lightly, Taylor purred, “I did nothing but think about you all weekend long.”
Blinking in surprise, Owen twisted to see Taylor’s face. “Really? Me?”
“Yes. You.”
“Huh.” Owen finished his wine in a hurry. Then, slowly, Taylor took that blue blanket out of its plastic wrap. After lifting the arm that separated them and pushing it back into the seat, Taylor spread the flannel out under the two open trays, across both their laps. A moment later, a hot hand rubbed Owen’s thigh. Chills coursed over his body. The semi-erection he had when Taylor sat next to him became a full-blown hard-on, throbbing and dying to be stuck somewhere naughty.
Jumping when the stewardess appeared next to them to collect their empty bottles and glasses, Owen held his breath as Taylor’s fingers halted their stroking momentarily. The heat of Taylor’s left hand cupping his dick as it had grown hard down the leg of his jeans was driving Owen completely crazy. When the stewardess vanished down the aisle, Taylor continued to fondle Owen’s crotch with loving, creative fingers. Wanting him so badly he ached, Owen’s hissed between clenched teeth, “Go. I’ll meet you there.” Owen shoved the bag of items at Taylor.
“Great.”
Taylor put his tray table upright, pushed the blanket aside, unbuckled his belt, and took a walk to the back of the plane.
Owen was panting. His chest was rising and falling so rapidly, he felt he would faint. Okay. Owen Braydon, you are about to consummate your gayness. Are you ready? Out loud he said, “Yes.” Pushing his tray up and clipping it, Owen folded the blanket into a neat square as he waited for the right moment. Who screws whom? Did he mean, I screw him first when he said, you will get the first one? Or he’d get screwed? Did he want a dick up his ass? What the hell would it feel like? Was there enough room for two large men to have sex in that tiny space they called the head?
Purposely stopping his internal dialogue before it caused him to chicken out, Owen inhaled a deep breath, unbuckling his belt like Batman ready to jump out of the Batmobile to solve a crime. As he walked to the tail of the plane, he wondered if the women in uniform knew. They had to have seen something like this before. After all, there was a club. A Mile High Club. Were they smirking? Laughing under their breaths? Or getting ready to call the authorities at LAX to arrest the two perverts? Trying not to believe either argument in his head, Owen pretended they knew nothing and found that one occupied toilet.
He tapped the door. Instantly, it opened and a large masculine hand gripped his shirt and dragged him in quickly.
“Déjà vu!” Owen chuckled as he stood nose to nose and knee to knee with Taylor in the tight space. His eyes were drawn to the metal sink. That bag of supplies had been opened. Two wrapped rubbers were torn from the strip and the tube of lube sat at the ready. Instantly he remembered the incredible blowjob from before and shivered in delight.
Taylor whispered, “Owen? I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do.”
Owen snapped back to the present. “You’re not asking me to do anything I don’t want to do.”
“Good.”
“Uh. Can I kiss you again?” About to make a disclaimer that he didn’t shave because it was the weekend and didn’t want to scratch Taylor’s face, Owen’s jaw was grabbed roughly and his mouth soon had Taylor’s attached to it. On contact with Taylor’s lips and tongue, Owen melted.
~
Taylor couldn’t wait to get his hands on this man again. For two days all Taylor had done was think of Owen, recall the contact with him, and wish he could have another chance at touching him. That amazing tongue, so curious and timid as it explored his mouth, Taylor was so turned on by Owen’s scent, demeanor, and looks, he thought he would go mad if he didn’t find Owen again. But here he was. In his arms kissing him. Would they go all the way?
~
Owen had to bring himself back from a swoon. The passion he felt for Taylor was unlike anything he could remember experiencing. Maybe there was something to this bi-curiosity on his part. He liked looking at naked men. So sue me. But it was the truth. Did he tell anyone? No.
And Taylor was handling him gently, like he was a virgin. Well, in this respect he was. Though Owen would have loved to kiss for the two and a half hour flight, he knew the time was not theirs to dally and that if they were indeed going to mess around, they had to get to it. He parted from the kiss and stared into Taylor’s aquamarine eyes. “What do I do?”
Taylor caught his breath from the kissing and asked, “You want to screw me?”
“Yes!” Owen shouted, then covered his mouth. “Yes,” he said more softly.
“I mean, first.” Taylor stifled another laughing fit.
“Oh. Yes. Or do you want to do me? I don’t know. You tell me. I’m new at this game.”
“Why don’t you do me?” Taylor opened his jeans and yanked them down with his briefs to his ankles, taking one leg completely out of his pants.
If there had been space, Owen would have taken a step back to admire that physique. Perfect, absolutely perfect. “Christ, you have a big dick.”
Chuckling to himself, Taylor opened a rubber, and with the tiny rolled up object in his hand he said, “You have to take your pants off, Owen.”
“Oh!
Right.” Owen’s hands shook as he opened his button and zipper. Wondering if Taylor would admire his body or just tolerate it, Owen bravely yanked his clothing down to his feet, exactly like Taylor had.
“You fantastic mother-fucker,” Taylor whispered.
“Yeah?” Owen looked down at his exposed body.
“Oh, yes…” Taylor slipped the condom onto Owen’s cock, massaging lubrication on it.
Just the touch of Taylor’s skilled hands was almost enough to make Owen come. Closing his eyes, holding back so he didn’t completely embarrass himself by spurting even before he screwed Taylor, Owen waited until Taylor had finished the preparation process.
Like the last time, the head was hissing and making horrific gurgling noises even with the lid closed. In the extremely tight space, Taylor managed to turn around, leaning over that churning piss-hole and spread his legs wide.
Owen stared at Taylor’s muscular ass and thighs in awe.
Taylor twisted over his shoulder, asking, “What are you waiting for?”
“Huh?” Owen blinked.
“Fuck me.”
Owen felt his body explode with chills at the naughty talk. “You…you mean, stick my dick up your ass?”
“Yes! Owen, we can’t stay in here all day.”
The plane listed slightly, and Owen prayed it didn’t become turbulent and everyone was called back to their seats. Holding his dick with his right hand and Taylor’s hip with his left, Owen moved closer until the tip of his cock touched Owen’s ass. “Should I just push in?”
“Yes, dear,” Taylor said sarcastically.
Owen did. A wash of pleasure cascaded over his body. After the initial shock, he managed to hold onto both of Taylor’s hips and developed a rhythm with the plane’s soft listing. Staring at Taylor’s broad back, his ass, his legs, then the back of his thick dark head of hair, Owen couldn’t quite get over that he was in a plane, in the bathroom, with his dick up a man’s butt. “Holy shit.”
“You okay back there?” Taylor asked, trying to see Owen over his shoulder.
“Yeah. How you doing?”
“Fine. Ah, could you speed it up?”
“Oh! Sorry. I’m just content being connected to you. Man, it’s awesome. I mean, wow. What a feeling.” Shutting up, knowing he was babbling, Owen closed his eyes and screwed Taylor with more gusto. Instantly, he came. Pushing his hips hard against Taylor’s bottom, Owen whimpered at the sensation and didn’t want to pull out. “Christ, I could get used to this.”
Again, Taylor chuckled softly.
Pulling out, Owen found some paper towels and disposed of the rubber deep inside the trash bin. When Taylor held him, exchanging places, Owen felt his nerves kick in. He watched Taylor slip on the rubber and then coat himself with the gel. “Turn around,” Taylor instructed sweetly.
Owen nodded, leaning over that noisy toilet and held on to it for dear life. What on earth was this going to feel like? Was he insane? Would he feel like a woman? Being penetrated? Would if feel like he was at the proctologist? What?
Hands held his hips just as he had done to Taylor. Taylor’s soft reassuring voice asked, “You ready?”
“As I can be.”
“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”
“Okay.” Owen waited. Warmth contacted his ass. Then Taylor entered him. Gasping in surprise, Owen felt something akin to intense pleasure and his dick stood back up at attention.
“You okay?”
“Yes!” Owen shouted, then lowered his voice. “Yes, oh, holy shit…push in…push in!”
He heard that knowing laugh behind him. Owen closed his eyes and couldn’t believe the sensation; hot, massaging, hitting some magic spot he’d never even imagined he owned, and the pleasure it created in him was unlike anything he had experienced in all his heterosexual connections. Hearing Taylor’s increasing gasps of pleasure was a bonus. When Taylor pushed in deeply, Owen knew he was coming,, the throbbing echoed by his own pulsing cock. When Taylor pulled out, Owen didn’t want him to. Twisting around in the minute space, Owen watched Taylor getting rid of the spent condom, washing his hands quickly.
“We’ve been gone a long time. We should get back to our seats.” Taylor pulled up his jeans and zipped them.
Still half naked, Owen wanted to say something profound. Instead, he gripped Taylor’s jaw and kissed him with as much passion as he could muster.
When they parted, Taylor breathed, “Wow.”
“You are something else, Mr. Madison.”
Smiling shyly, Taylor crouched down to help Owen pull his pants up. When Owen felt him doing it, he yanked them up and fastened them, tucking in his shirt.
“Let me go first,” Taylor said.
“Okay.”
Opening the door, Taylor looked out, shutting it behind him. Owen stood still a moment, recuperating. He checked around the toilet area to make sure all the items were back in the bag or thrown out. Once that task was done and the bag was in his hand, he looked in the mirror. Maybe he was decent looking. He just never thought he was anything special. Taylor Madison was special. Of that Owen was certain.
~
Sitting in the seat waiting for Owen to return, Taylor was so satisfied physically, he could nap. Wondering how Owen was feeling after his first gay intercourse, Taylor hoped it was an act worth remembering. He really liked Owen, more than he wanted to admit. And the idea that this was going to be just something they did once in a while on their chance meetings onboard slightly let Taylor down. He yearned for a companion. A real partner with whom he could share every part of his life. Not casual sex. He didn’t want a nothing relationship.
A warm hand touched his shoulder. Taylor looked up to see Owen’s smiling face. Taylor stood and allowed Owen back into his seat. Once Owen had buckled up again, Taylor sat down and did the same. After a moment in which Taylor was reflecting on their act, he felt Owen nudge his arm. Tilting over to hear his whisper, Taylor hoped it would be something encouraging.
“Hey.” Owen handed Taylor back the crumpled bag with the condoms and lube in it.
“Hey,” Taylor replied, taking it and shoving it into the pocket of his jacket as it lay crushed on the seat behind his back.
“How you feeling?”
“Fantastic. You?” Taylor tried to read Owen’s expression.
“On cloud nine.”
“Oh?” Taylor felt his insides shiver. “That good?”
“Oh, Taylor…” Owen shook his head as if words couldn’t express it.
“So? Are you going to pursue a full-blown homosexual existence now?” When Owen’s cheerful smile drooped, Taylor didn’t know why. “Did I say something wrong, Owen?”
~
Owen wanted Taylor. He didn’t want to pursue anyone else. But what was appropriate gay protocol? Should he just blurt out he was “in-like” with Taylor and needed to only have gay contact from him? Was that something gay men did? Or were they like heterosexual men with women? Commitment? Bite your tongue! Marriage? I don’t want to be institutionalized in the institution of marriage!
“Look, Taylor…” Owen began, trying to express what he felt deep inside.
Taylor held up his hand. “I get it, Owen. You don’t have to say it.”
That confused Owen. Get what? Why did this just have to be sex on a plane? It was painful to digest that fact.
The stewardess came over to their row. “Would you like a meal?”
Owen noticed everyone around them had already eaten. In the pit of his stomach he worried that the staff did know what was going on between he and this adorable man next to him. After they nodded their heads, she brought over two trays and set them on their tables. As they ate in silence, Owen felt let down. He wanted to tell Taylor it was the most incredible experience he’d ever had. To tell him he wanted to see him while he was in LA. Maybe Taylor could stay at this place while he worked instead of a hotel. Maybe they could have sex like that every night until Taylor and he had to fly back to Denver Friday night. But
the words in his head never made it out of his mouth. Being a slight introvert, Owen had had this problem before. Maybe he fit the stereotypical role of the accountant; meek, hiding behind his computer and numbers while images of Portnoy washed through everyone’s brain at the mere mention of his name. That thought repulsed him. He didn’t want that reputation and certainly did nothing to encourage it.
Next to him, right there, was the most incredible specimen of male testosterone and masculinity he could visualize. There. Rubbing against his arm as he ate the tiny foil wrapped chicken and vegetable meal. And he was gay. Yes, gay. That masculine stud liked to make love to a man. So? Why couldn’t he be like that? What was stopping him from asserting himself and saying, “Hey, handsome, why don’t you come up and see me sometime?”
He knew why. Insecurity. Blame it on his mother. Blame it on his father. Or blame it on Jenna. No. Better yet, blame it on himself. He was the ugly duckling in school, picked on, harassed. Had he turned into a beautiful swan?
~
Taylor finished the meal and tried to pile all the wrappings on top of it so it didn’t topple off. Owen was so quiet next to him, Taylor wondered if he was having some morning after-style of remorse. Waiting for Owen to finish his food before he spoke, Taylor sat back, reclining the chair, and watched for the attendant so he could flag her down to remove the garbage from his tray table. A thought occurred to Taylor in that moment. Owen must have a girlfriend. It all made sense if he thought of it that way. They never spoke of meeting up, exchanging phone numbers, nothing to connect them on a deeper level. If Owen had a live-in girlfriend, then this was indeed just an on-board fling. Maybe he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Expectations were always a trap. It was what it was.
Seeing Owen had finished, Taylor finally got the flight attendant’s attention and she removed the empty food plates. Once they were unburdened with the garbage, Taylor folded the tray table up and watched as Owen took out a Newsweek magazine from the seat pocket. Rubbing his face in frustration, Taylor wanted to see him while he was in LA. He just wished Owen would say something to indicate he was available and interested.
It was an odd circumstance, and Taylor thought he was the kind of man who could handle everything. Maybe he’d been too cocky. He didn’t know how to handle this.