The sky was a deep, unbroken blue from horizon to horizon, what we pilots call “severe clear”. It was the kind of day when planes practically begged to fly, and pilots readily obliged. It was July, and I had that sweetest of luxuries—lots of free time and a choice of aircraft in which to indulge myself. My name is Gilbert Savage, and I’m a pilot with AirEast, a charter airline based in New York City. I was pondering which plane to take up, when my friend and fellow aviator, Mario Freeman, came into the hangar. Mario was the Airline Poster Pilot —tall, confident, strong, handsome, and undeniably sexy. Standing six-two, with deep brown skin, Mario always made me wish for…him. Mario’s flying career was stellar. At 32, he was the airline’s instructor pilot, thanks to his ten years flying for the Navy.

           I quickly stroked my blonde mustache as he approached. I’ve had a crush on Mario, like no other in all my 29 years, since the day he came to AirEast a year ago. I was five-nine, and I weighed in at around 175, compared to Mario’s solid, thick 220. Unlike most of the pilots in the industry, I was gay. I dreamed in my fantasies that Mario was, too, but I really didn’t know. Most of AirEast knew about me, though, and he was cool with it. For now, that was fine with me. One day, perhaps…I sighed.

“Hey, Mario! How are you?” I greeted.

 “I’m okay. Gil, have you got a minute? I want to show you something I really think you’ll like.”

“Sure. It’s my day off, and I thought about taking the Piper up for a bit.”

 Mario grinned. “When you see this, you’ll forget all about that crate.”

 “What could you have out there, that would make me forget about my Piper?”.” I watched his six-two frame as he turned toward the doors.”

 Oh, I could watch that bubble-round ass all day!

Mario led me out of the hangar and onto the tarmac. There, sitting in the late-morning sun, was a 727—Boeing’s legendary tri-jet from the Seventies, painted in AirEast’s colors. Since the only aircraft in the fleet were little Pipers, Shorts, and Embraers, this certainly was an eye-opener.

“It just arrived this morning. The papers are signed. She finished a C-check last week, and she’s ready to go. I was going to test her today.”  He gave me a meaningful look with those deep brown eyes of his.

“We have charters that big on the books now?” A 727 could seat almost 200.

“Nope. This is a pleasure craft for the big timers. Come on,” Mario beckoned, “I’ll show you around.”

* * * *

We went up the air-stairs, and when I stepped into the aircraft, I was immediately overwhelmed. This was a flying party palace. The entire interior of the plane had been reworked. Where once there’d been rows of passenger seats, there were now couches of soft velvet, recliners, and deep pile carpet. A wide-screen HDTV adorned the forward bulkhead, and a mahogany bar with graphic inlays held court at the other end of the first room. Mario led me further back into the cabin, where there was a full galley, complete with stove, oven and two microwaves, a full bath, and a spacious bedroom with the most scrumptious queen-sized bed, which had been made up in exquisite royal blue silk sheets. The bedroom even boasted a sunken hot tub. An image of me kissing Mario’s full lips on that gorgeous bed, flashed into my mind. My dick started to rise. I put those thoughts out of my head, hoping Mario didn’t see the growing bulge in my shorts.

Walking back towards the cockpit, Mario asked, “You want to take it up with me?” Boy, talk about double entendres!