The Stewardess free porn video

Stewardess By Snow Girl The following material is explicit, and shouldn't be read by people who are underage or easily offended. The transformation sequence is a bit rough, so you probably shouldn't read this if you are squeamish, either. Everyone else may enjoy. This story may be reposted to free archives only. Comments and praise can be sent to [email protected]. ************************************************************** "I'm sorry, sir, but the flight is overbooked." Wes wanted to kick the check in desk with disgust. Damnit! It wasn't fair... Wes wanted to scream and yell. He wanted to shoot vicious and ugly looks at the woman behind the counter until she relented and let him on the plane. It was so damn unfair, Wes had done everything right. He'd left his house a full three hours before his flight was scheduled to take off. He packed all his luggage in a carry-on bag, reconfirmed his flight with the airline, checked and re-checked all the details, there was no way he was going to miss this plane. Then there was a five car pile-up right in front of him on the freeway. Wes had to swerve violently to the side to avoid joining the collision. His car spun around, blew out a tire, and wound up off the road in a ditch. Wes was fine, not even a scratch, but inside he was shaking furiously. He had to get to Los Angeles. He had a job interview with a big-time movie producer to be his assistant and nothing would stop Wes from getting there. The producer, Delt Benedetto, was the muscle behind three of the five biggest films of the year. Delt was also notoriously demanding - legend has it that he fired one assistant for being one minute late, even though that assistant was returning from his honeymoon. Working for Delt was like boot camp, but those who survived inevitably prospered in Hollywood. His ex-assistants had gone on to produce five more of the top ten films of last year. There was a veritable mafia of ex-Delt's, and once you survived initiation, you were set for life in Hollywood. Wes had the inside track for the job; Delt himself told him on the phone that the interview was a mere formality. All Wes had to do was get to Los Angeles on time. Standing on the shoulder of the freeway, Wes left his car in the ditch with barely a second thought. Carrying his bag over his shoulder, he desperately started hitchhiking to the airport. After fifteen minutes, a church van stopped to pick him up. The church van's driver resolutely drove at five miles per hour under the speed limit, and with the traffic, Wes arrived at the airport terminal with fifteen minutes to spare. He raced for his gate, giving thanks for carry-on luggage and the glories of the e-ticket. His belt buckle set off the metal detectors, and rather than wait for it, he stripped off the belt and left it there. Running down to his gate, he heard the initial boarding call for flight 619. He made it. He heaved a sigh of relief and went to check in at the counter. "I'm sorry, sir, but all passengers must check in at least fifteen minutes prior to departure.' "But, but you don't understand..." "Airline policy, sir. It's for everyone's safety. Failure to check in means that your seat may be given up to passengers on the waiting list." "But, but, but... there was an accident, I left early, I have to get to Los..." "Sir, this flight is overbooked as it is. I had to give your seat away ten minutes ago." "Isn't there anything you can do? There must be something." "I'm sorry sir, but the flight is overbooked." Wes was shaking with anger and adrenaline. He sat down dejectedly in a chair and tried to come up with a plan. Standing near the gate were the flight attendants. Every one of them was blonde and model-beautiful. Blue blazers with silk scarves knotted around their necks. All but one of them were wearing above the knee skirts with a deep slit up the side, black tights, and heels that curved their calves into works of art. Damnit, that makes it even worse, thought Wes. 'They're quite a bunch, aren't they," said the man sitting next to Wes. He was tall and well tanned, wearing two days of stubble and a short-sleeved shirt. "Yes, they are. It figures that if I am going to miss the most important flight of my life, that plane might as well be packed with gorgeous stewardesses," Wes said. The man sitting next to Wes typed a couple of things then folded up his laptop. "What happened?" As if compelled, Wes started pouring out his story. The job, the car accident, the over-booking. Wes put on a brave face and finished, "I'll find a way to get on that plane, even if I have to hang on to the wing. If you're going to work with Delt Benedetto, you have to be able to get things done no matter what... This is like an entrance exam I guess, if I can get on this flight, I can get the job." "Maybe I can you help out. My name's Bill Frazier. I've worked with Delt from time to time and I know what a hard-ass he can be." He extended a hand and gave Wes a firm, hard handshake. Bill Frazier was a strong man, Wes couldn't help but notice. "I've been flirting with one of the stewardesses over there, and she mentioned that they're two short on their crew for this flight." Bill looked like the type of man who casually flirted with hot, blonde stewardesses. "I'll sit back there. Hell, I won't even sit if I'd be in their way," Wes said. "It might come to that. They can cover one person missing from a shift, but if two people are missing, it's a real pain in the ass for them. Maybe if you offer to help out, you might even get somewhere with one or two of them. I've spent some time around stewardesses in my day." Bill added with a wink. With a smile, Bill summoned one of the blonde stewardesses. Wes almost melted inside, thinking about spending six hours next to her. She had big green eyes, soft lips, and deep cleavage. She introduced herself as Kimberly and smiled at Wes. Bill was definitely flirting with her as he explained Wes' plight. "Oh, you poor thing. I think we might be able to help, why don't you come with me," she said. She took Wes by the hand and led him over to the other stewardesses. Her touch instantly made Wes' cock jump, and every step he took toward the group of blondes made him harder and harder. Halfway there, he had to readjust his trousers and cursed leaving his belt at security. These pants were an inch too big and without his belt he'd be pulling them up the whole flight. Unless my erection holds them up, Wes laughed to himself. "Well, I suppose we can do it. He'll have to wear a uniform blazer, though, and stay in the back of the plane." That was Elaine. She seemed to be the crew leader and was the only one wearing slacks. Her blonde hair was swept up in a twist, and she wore just a little bit of makeup, just enough to enhance her haughty cheekbones. Wes also noticed that Elaine was the only one wearing flat shoes. The whole group was about the same height, but all of the other stewardesses were wearing heels, Kimberly wearing the highest heels, at least three inches, Wes imagined. Sarah, with blonde hair to her shoulders and a lilting southern accent, volunteered a spare blazer. She and Wes were almost the same height, and Sarah's shoulders were just slightly smaller than Wes'. For the first time in my life, being built like a reed is working to my advantage, thought Wes. He ducked into the men's room to put on the blazer. It was too tight to wear his suit shirt under the blazer, so Wes put on a smooth white cotton t-shirt under it. Looking at himself in the mirror, he looked a little silly, but anything to get to L.A., he thought. The blazer tapered in tightly to his waist, then flared out. Wes hitched his pants up again, again cursing the loss of his belt. Wes pulled a silk scarf out of a pocket on the blazer and started to tie it around his neck. A toilet flushed and an old man in a suit walked out of a stall, giving Wes a weird look as Wes fumbled with the feminine scarf at his neck. Blushing, Wes pulled it off and stuffed it in a breast pocket on the jacket. Back at the gate, Bill Frazier was intently typing away on his laptop. As if on cue, Wes felt a lock of hair fall in front of his eyes just as Bill looked up and smiled. He gave Wes a friendly wave. Wes smiled back, then hitched his pants up again. Los Angeles, here I come. Take off was uneventful and on schedule and Wes heaved a big sigh of relief. While the other stewardesses stood in the aisles giving the standard safety demonstrations, Wes sat in the back kitchen area taking deep breaths. He was on his way, he would make it, and that's all he cared about. Wes opened his eyes and saw Kimberly waving at him. She was trying to push a bulky purse into the overhead compartment and was having problems getting it in. Smiling, Wes strolled down the aisle and stepped behind her. He could feel the warmth of her body and her soft, round behind rubbing up against him as he reached up over her. Wes couldn't quite push it in until he stood up on his tip-toes, and then he just barely got it in. "Thanks, Wes," Kimberly purred. "It's so tough for me to get bags in the overhead compartments with these heels." She turned her ankle from side to side, giving Wes a good look at her heels. Three and a half inches, with a blocky heel and a single, thin strap over her ankle. Wes felt his erection come rushing back, and also a wave of curiosity. What's it like to walk in heels like that, to feel that thin strap around your ankle, to wear tights that black and opaque, he wondered? For the first drink service, Wes volunteered to push Sarah's cart. Elaine frowned slightly, but knowing that Sarah needed the help, let Wes work with her. The girls arranged his silk scarf so it blossomed out of his blazer's pocket like a flower. Then they gave him an apron. Sarah smiled when she saw Wes hitching up his pants again. "Long story," Wes smiled back. They slowly worked their way up the aisle. Sarah smiling a beauty pageant smile and asking each passenger what they would like to drink. Wes kept his head down and poured whatever was requested. This wouldn't be so bad if my hair would stop falling in my face, Wes thought. Delt's assistants often tended bars at his parties, and serving drinks on the plane was like that, wasn't it? Besides, just the chance to listen to Sarah's lilting voice made the whole experience worthwhile. "Excuse me," Wes felt someone tugging on the end of his blazer. "Can you warm up my baby's bottle?" asked a young mother. Across the cart, Sarah said, "Yes we can, ma'am. Wes, you can use the microwave back in the kitchen to warm it up." Wes trotted to the back of the plane and pushed a lock of hair out of his face, tucking it away behind his ear. He thought about using the scarf to tie his hair back in a ponytail, Wes was surprised to find himself thinking about growing his hair out, maybe even longer than Sarah's... He was trying to imagine highlights in his hair when he almost tripped over his own pants. They seemed to be riding lower and lower, and there seemed to be more and more fabric pooled up around his feet. Elaine was back in the kitchen, heating the meals. While heating the bottle, Wes had to hitch his pants up again, but even pulled up to his hips, his pants were still dragging on the ground. Wes sighed in exasperation. I'm either shrinking, or the hem or something must have come out. Great. "If you're going to go out there, you're going to have to put on some different pants." Elaine sternly told him. "We appreciate your help, but it is unsightly to have you keep tugging at your pants, young man." Wes blushed. "Besides that, it's airline policy that all the stewardesses wear skirts except the crew leader. I'm not going to put you into a skirt, yet... but if you have a pair of pants that fit, I suggest that you change. Immediately." Wes gulped and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He opened up his garment bag and grabbed a pair of black pants, still wrapped in plastic from the dry cleaners in case anything was spilled on his luggage. Good thing I tried to think of everything that could go wrong, Wes mused. Someday this will make for a great scene in a movie. Inside the bathroom, Wes' confidence quickly turned to horror - these weren't his pants! His stomach whirled and he felt nauseous. These were women's pants. Black, woolen, women's pants. Was there a mix-up at the dry cleaners? How could so many things be going wrong? He couldn't figure out how he had packed them, but he numbly tried them on. They zipped up on the side, and gently narrowed down to his black loafers. He had to brush his bangs out of his eyes to check himself out in the mirror. Wes didn't know if he felt like laughing or crying when he realized that they fit perfectly. So perfectly that it looked like he had a full, round ass and hips. Like a woman. Sarah's blazer didn't help matters, accentuating his slim waist and the gentle flare of his hips. They fit so perfectly that his boxer shorts made an ugly bulge across his mid-thigh. Emotionally numb, and almost physically afraid of Elaine's disapproval, he stripped off his boxers and went bareback under the trousers. Wes carefully stepped out of the bathroom. Elaine sized him up almost immediately. She pulled the bright silk scarf out of his pocket and loosely draped it around his neck, tucking it into the blazer. She also took a barrette out of her pocket and clipped his bangs back. "You look much more professional, now." With that, she handed him the bottle from the microwave and sent him back up the aisle. The young mother gladly took the bottle for her infant. She smiled her thanks to Wes and he almost blushed. As he walked up to meet Sarah, he could feel his naked cock rubbing against the wool. The embarrassment, the scratching, the soft tug of the barrette, plus one soft look from Sarah made his cock stand on end like a rocket. "You've got a little... ahem... bulge, there, Wes," she chided him. Wes leaned in close to the drinks cart to hide his erection and he desperately tried to shift his cock around so it wouldn't show. Blushing furiously, he whispered to Sarah "I, uh, spilled something on my pants, and these were... uh... the only clean pair, um, Elaine could find." "I think they look quite fetching on you." Sarah smiled at him. "I could loan you some pantyhose to help hold that little monster down, if you like." "No, thanks. I'll, I'll be okay." "You might enjoy it. I've got a tight, silky pair that would make all that rubbing around quite exciting, Wes, and you never know...I might enjoy taking them off of you. Think about it." Sarah winked at him and pulled the cart into business class. Wes kept his head down, and tried to find a rhythm in passing along cups of ice and opening sodas and pouring coffee. He almost didn't notice when he handed a cup of coffee to Bill. He was in the aisle seat working busily on his laptop. The seat next to Bill was empty, and it didn't look like anyone was sitting there. Why couldn't I they have given me that seat, Wes cried inside, I would have paid anything to avoid this. Bill recognized Wes and smiled. "How's it going back there, stud?" Bill laughed, and as he took the coffee from Wes, he took a good look at Wes' trousers and bulging hard-on. "Fine," Wes whispered. "Looks like I'm going to make it." He forced a weak smile. Bill sipped his coffee, set it down, and typed and couple of notes into his laptop. Wes saw he was working on a rather odd spreadsheet titled "Wendy." Bill half-closed the laptop to hide it from Wes. "Why don't you go back there and steal a scotch for your old buddy, Bill?" "I don't know if I can, Elaine's back there and she..." Wes stammered. Bill grabbed Wes' arm and pulled him close. "Bring me a scotch, or you'll have more trouble than your missing pants," he hissed. "I control you now, and you don't want to make me mad." The strong grip on his arm made Wes tremble in fear. Bill let go of Wes and continued typing as Wes turned around. Walking to the back of the plane, Wes felt wobbly. Dizzy and afraid, he felt like he was swaying back and forth with every step. He didn't know if it was him, or the plane, but his cheeks were burning and he wondered how could he have ever gotten into this and when would it ever end? He could feel his erection throbbing and suddenly taking up Sarah's offer for pantyhose didn't seem like a bad idea. The comforting stretch of nylon feels so good, rubbing my legs. Wes couldn't ever remember wearing pantyhose, but he knew exactly what the silky tightness of pantyhose wrapping around his legs was like. How did he know that, Wes wondered. A bottle of scotch for Bill, four more hours, and I'll be in L.A., he tried to reassure himself. If he could get through this, he could handle anything Delt Benedetto could throw at him, and finally, Wes had a thought that he could cling to. Catching a lucky break, Elaine wasn't in the kitchen area. Wes pulled out two small bottles of scotch whiskey and headed back up the aisle. Sarah had pushed the cart into first class and Wes was alone in the business class section. No problem, Wes thought, I'll slip these bottles to Bill, and carry on. Wes reached Bill's seat, and forcing a smile, turned to face Bill. Bill smiled back and took another sip from his coffee. Wes looked at Bill's laptop, and saw his name entered on the top line of a spreadsheet. Lots of the sheet was filled with complicated formulas, but Wes saw that 5-10 and 150 were being fed into several formulas the computer was processing. He recognized that 5-10 and 150 were his height and weight, and looked with horror at Bill. Bill looked back at him with a grin, hit enter on the keyboard, then deliberately poured the rest of his coffee onto his shirt. "You clumsy, clumsy stewardess," Bill whispered to Wes and then grabbed his arm and pulled him close. "You just spilled coffee all over me, you clumsy bitch. You better follow me and help me clean this up, or else." Wes was stunned, "I'm so sorry, sir," was all he could think of saying. "Please, sir, let me help you clean it up." Bill glared at Wes, and keeping his grip on Wes' arm, he led Wes to the bathroom. "Get in." Wes looked around in panic. All of the business class passengers seemed to be sleeping or blankly staring out the windows. "Get in there." This time, Bill shoved Wes into the bathroom, and stunned, Wes meekly complied. Bill stepped in behind Wes, crowding him onto the toilet, then locked the door. "Up against the door, bitch, and don't make a sound." Wes wanted to ask what was going on, wanted a reason why, but when he opened his mouth, Bill slapped him across the cheek. Hard. Mute, Wes tried to slip around Bill and get to the door. He looked at himself in the mirror, with his womanly hips and silk scarf. Bill's slap not only left a red mark on his cheek, but shook his hair loose. Wes brushed aside a lock of blonde hair to see tears forming in his eyes. His hair was blonde. It fell to his chin. He tried to remember when it had turned blonde while Bill spread his arms and legs up against the door. Zzzzip. Wes felt his pants get pulled down to his ankles. SMACK! SMACK! Two quick spanks from Bill caused Wes to shut his eyes. Squeezing them shut, he could feel tears trickling down his cheeks and the ends of his hair tickling his chin. Wes heard Bill's pants whisper as they were pulled down. He felt the heat of Bill's body, felt the burning heat of Bill's cock pressed between his buttocks. Bill pulled away for a fraction of a second, and Wes knew what was coming. The hot touch of Bill's cock pushed against Wes's sphincter. He wanted to cringe, but he couldn't move. All resistance left Wes as Bill pushed the head of his cock in. Wes felt himself draining away, washing out of his body as that hard dick rudely pushed its way into his ass. Inch by inch, it slid in Wes. Inches that felt like miles, inches that expanded and filled Wes beyond the point of exploding. Bill slowly slid all the way in, and Wes' body meekly swallowed it up. As Bill slid out, Wes felt part of himself falling away. A vacuum seemed to open up inside Wes, and his will seemed to drain out into the emptiness. Bill pushed in again and slid out again, slowly pumping Wes. With every thrust, Wes felt his body pushing out all over, with every release, Wes felt weaker. In, stretching his ass, making his nipples burn. Out, making him weaker, emptying him out. Wes opened his eyes a crack and saw that his nipples were bulging outward. With every thrust in, they grew a fraction, slowly rising from his smooth chest. They were small now, but visibly swelling with each thrust. He wanted to see his crotch, but long blonde hair obscured his sight. His hair was growing thicker and lighter with each stroke. He couldn't see them, but he knew his hips were growing, too. Wide and round. Wes closed his eyes and was no longer sure if he had a penis anymore. His groin was throbbing, pulsing, burning for release. Bill pushed in and Wes moaned gently. He could hear Bill muttering between grunts, chanting something. The panic and fear inside Wes turned into a tingling. His growing nipples ached and throbbed. Wes tried to keep quiet, terrified he would get hit again. His body wanted to moan, and it took all of his strength to keep silent. Bill's thrusts pushed harder, sending waves of pleasure rushing through his body, waves that reshaped his body. Breasts slowly growing, hips wider, legs buckling from Bill's pushing, hair reaching down his back. One strong push from Bill ignited Wes' body like a match in a room full of gas. The fire raced through his body, and he moaned again. But he didn't do it. Wes felt another presence in his body, a gentle warmth spreading from his belly. His inch long cock jumped, and Wes felt hot semen dripping down his leg, racing toward his knee. Hot, like a tear. Having a cock barely registered with Wes. The warmth in his belly was swallowed his body, taking control. He was being invaded by more than a cock; there was someone else now, someone else arching a sexy ass back to take in Bill's massive cock. Someone else moaning and shuddering with lust. Wes felt like an observer, someone shoved into the closet and forgotten. He could feel and see, but his body was no longer listening to him. Bill slides in again, and suddenly there is a name. Wendy. Like he is stuffing Wes with a female soul, every thrust from Bill drains away part of Wes and fills it up with Wendy. Wendy arches up on her toes to take one of Bill's thrusts. And another and another. Wes saw Wendy's tiny feet, curving ankles, jiggling breasts. Bill was pumping harder now, and Wendy loved every inch, every massive inch that stretched her ass to the limit. Wes felt his tiny cock jump again, and a fresh trickle of cum ran down his leg as another orgasm rocked his feminine body. Each push and thrust in shoved more fragments of Wendy into Wes' mind, and each time Bill withdrew, another fraction of Wes evaporated. In... Wendy the prom queen. In... Shopping for dresses. In... Wearing heels. In... Wendy's first blow job. Out... Wes' cheap tux. Out.... Wes touching his dates breasts. In... Wes having his breasts stroked through black satin. Remembering those hot hands on his young breasts gives Wes another orgasm, sweeping through his body like a wave, rolling and rolling. Wes feels Bill shudder and come in his ass. Bill pulls out and Wes slumps against the sink, feeling a fresh stream of cum roll down the back of his leg. Bill wipes his dick off and pulls up his pants. "Get dressed. After the flight, meet me at the gate if you still want a job with Delt Benedetto," Bill snapped at her. He seemed so much taller, so much bigger than she was. "You can try to run, but it will be much worse if I have to go and find you after we land." He steps out of the bathroom, leaving Wes crumpled on the floor. The good news, Wes thought, was he still had his cock. The bad news was it was barely visible inside his bush. He might not have a vagina, but there was no doubting he was a woman, and a damn hot one at that. He wiped up a stream of cum from his calf. Unsure what he was doing, he slowly brought it to his mouth and sucked it all off his fingers. The salty taste, the stringy texture just made him hungry for more. With ease, he found he could flex his body and lick most of the cum right off his smooth leg. The salty taste soothed him a little. There was a pounding on the door. "Wendy, I want you out of there in five minutes. We have to serve dinner." It was Elaine. Wes reeled, but Wendy was less concerned. Wendy knew Elaine, and knew Elaine was a hard-ass, but Wendy could handle it. Strange sensations flooded Wes. He remembered himself, but didn't know if anyone else did. Wendy was a new stewardess, and she had many memories of Elaine training her. Wes thought that had never happened, but he wasn't sure what to think. He couldn't remember any Wes-memories from before Wendy got hired as a stewardess. He knew there was more, but there were no Wes memories growing up, only Wendy. The pink room, the closet full of skirts, the ballet lessons, the cheerleading, the proms. Wendy had no interview with Delt Benedetto, just dreams of becoming a model. She stood up and faced herself in the mirror. Naked from the waist down, she had streaky blonde hair that fell to her shoulder blades. Green eyes. Curved eyebrows. Dark red lipstick. Wendy pulled off her blazer and lifted the t-shirt over her head to let Wes absorb the new body. Perfect curves, 38C breasts, flat stomach, with a little concentration, Wes could recall much of the aerobic routine that maintained his body in this shape. He didn't know if was controlling this gorgeous body, or if he was just getting absorbed into Wendy. Stacked on the toilet was a pile of clothes. Wes pulled a pair of black tights out of the pile and carefully rolled them up each leg with well-practiced moves. Size B, DKNY tights, Wes knew. Standing flat on the floor, he could feel an uncomfortable tugging on his calf, but he took a moment to look at himself, top half naked, bottom half completely covered in black lycra spandex. Every curve accentuated by the tights, the shadows around his calves and thighs perfectly defined. The bra came next. A half-cup bra, 38C, satiny smooth, Wes fumbled it over his shoulders but easily closed the front clasp and hefted his new breasts comfortably inside the cups. He stepped into the skirt, a size six, pulling it up over his hips, half-inch fingernails making the rear zipper a tricky affair. He instinctively turned the skirt around, zipped it in front, then spun it around again. The blazer now fit like a glove, and the silk scarf tied nicely around his neck. He sat down again to put on the heels. Three and a half inches. Size five. Covered toe with a high ankle strap, exactly like Kimberly was wearing, Wes notices with irony. He pulled the strap tight around his ankle, flexing the high arch of his foot to make sure the fit is snug. He strapped the other shoe on, and gazed at the black leather strap making a soft indentation in the black tights. He could have sat there all day admiring his legs, but another knock on the bathroom door jars Wes back to his rather altered reality. For the meal service, Wendy found herself paired Kimberly. They could almost pass for twins. "Chicken or fish?" they asked in soft voices, sometimes at the exact same time, giving their voices a girlish harmony and sending them into a shared giggle. In business class, a fat businessman asked Wendy to put his briefcase in the overhead compartment. She opened the overhead, and it took all her strength just to lift the case up. Wendy rocked back onto her heels, and tried, but the briefcase was too heavy to lift. "I'm sorry, sir, can you give me a hand," she had to ask sheepishly. The fat man hefted himself out of his seat. Next to him, Wes was so tiny and delicate, with his small hands and polished fingernails, he felt completely helpless. Wes knew that Bill was staring at his ass as he struggled with the briefcase. And, as sure as if he had eyes in the back of his head, he knew the fat businessman was staring at her ass right now. She shifted her body to the right, stepping slightly forward with the left leg, just to tease that fat slob with how sexy her ass was. Kimberly and Wendy made their way to the cockpit to bring dinner to the pilot and co-pilot. Wes knew what was coming, and his stomach lurched when Kimberly locked the door behind them. Wendy had been warned how new stewardesses were welcomed by the flight crew. The pilot was rugged, with a square jaw, broad shoulders, and deep blue eyes. "So you're the new girl?" Wes felt himself blush as the pilot focused his gaze on her. Kimberly was already stroking the co-pilot's neck and running her hands down his chest. "Yes, sir." Wes lowered his eyes, but found himself looking at the pilot's crotch. He tried to look away. Kimberly was already unzipping the co-pilot's trousers. The pilot reached a warm hand out and placed it on Wes' thigh. Through his tights, the pilot's touch was soft and comforting. Wes panicked as the hand slid up his thigh and under his skirt. He reached for the pilot's hand, but he found himself getting pulled down to his knees. "Do you know how we initiate new girls on our flights?" "Yes, sir." Behind him, Wes heard the co-pilot moan. "Is there a problem, slut?" "No, sir. May I suck your cock, sir?" "That's better. Yes. Yes you may." Wes wanted to close his eyes as his body deftly opened the pilot's trousers. His hand slipped inside and Wes was afraid of the heat radiating from the pilot's groin. He looked at the pilot's cock. Oh, God, it was huge... the head glistened with pre-cum, a bulging vein stretched down the side. Wendy ran her red fingernails down the sides of the cock, reaching her tongue out and tasting the salty pre-cum on the tip. Closing her eyes, she started sucking. The hot monster was surprisingly smooth, and Wes started to enjoy the feeling of his tongue sliding around on the slick head. Kimberly's ass nudged Wes... he could feel her really getting into sucking the co-pilot's cock. He could feel her slurping and stroking. Cupping the pilot's balls, inhaling that cock, Wes felt another wave of fear. He imagined the pilot announcing to the plane, "Attention, ladies and gentlemen. We have a new stewardess on board, and she is nothing but a cock-hungry slut. Any man with a hard cock who wants to plunge it into her little mouth should feel free to order Wendy to her knees." The fear pushed Wes to suck furiously, inhaling the musky scent of the pilot's groin. He moaned deep from his throat thinking about it. A line of men, standing and waiting for her to suck them off... side by side with Kimberly, sucking cock after cock. Wes felt Kimberly's hands gently touch his hips. Her hot breath whispered in his ear, "Suck it. Stroke it, lick the head, around and around. Play with his balls, feel how heavy they are, taste how good that cock is." The pilot's hips bucked. Kimberly put her hands on the back of Wendy's head. "Take it, take it all..." she whispered. The pilot's hands shoved Wes' head deep into his crotch, pushing his cock into Wes' throat. When the cock erupted, Wes reflexively swallowed. Again and again, taking spurt after spurt of cum down her throat. The rest of the flight was calm, and gave Wes some time to assess the situation. He could still taste cum, but it wasn't unpleasant. He idly looked at some of the men in coach and contemplated bringing them into the back so he could practice on another cock. Thinking about the aisle filled with men waiting for a turn with her mouth made her nipples stand on end. He would meet Bill at the gate. Wes could still meet Delt, and in his sexy new form, that might work out to his advantage. He wasn't sure where he stopped and Wendy started, but it was probably best to surrender to Wendy with tits like she had. As the plane came in for a landing, she decided to tell Kimberly and Sarah about her meeting with Delt. Wendy usually went back to a hotel room with them for a group shower and hours of pussy-licking, but they might be interested in anything Delt had to offer, especially if it was a spot on the casting couch. The End