Chapter 14
Up and Coming
The flight we took out of Bombay had been delayed leaving London. To make amends to the passengers, they were given a free bar service. I was the bar girl on this trip and had one of my regular brainstorms. Even if the passengers drank themselves silly on this sector, no account of the amount of beverage consumed could be tallied with the amount of money collected, as I had no money to collect. Therefore I stashed a lot of miniatures away and filled in my bar forms on arrival at Singapore; then on the return journey I would be able to sell all the booze and keep the money! On reflection, I realize it was terribly dishonest and not at all in character, but I was overwhelmed with my own brilliance, which backfired on me.
You can imagine my horror when I saw the passengers we were picking up in Singapore! They were Gurka troops and their families, who never as a rule drink a drop of alcohol. So I was stuck with all this extra booze and no means of getting rid of it! (I could hardly hand over the bar to the next girl with more booze in it than when I had left Singapore.) Hils just giggled and told me it was my own fault! As we had about another ten days in Bombay I went around taking bar orders from the crew because there was no way they were going to continue drinking the evil local brew. The captain took five bottles of Scotch, the rest of the flight deck, two apiece. The four of us cabin staff took two bottles each, two crates of beer and my leftover miniatures.
The Gurkas were the finest passengers any crew could wish to serve. They all sat bolt upright in their seats, and each had his own tin mug for his tea. They organized a team to give out the meal trays and another to clear them in. They all packed their trays up and passed them along to the person sitting on the aisle seat so the stews had a really idle flight. However, Hils and I hadn't been idle at Singapore airport. We'd rushed to the duty-free shop and bought five bottles of Scotch each. We had had them packed up in boxes, and we stuck Noritake china labels all over them so they looked like big boxes containing dinner services. We were going to take them into Kuwait, but more of that later.
We had been in the air a couple of hours when, walking down the aisle turning my head from side to side (a procedure that all well-trained stews do as a matter of habit just to make doubly sure that all the passengers are okay), I noticed a woman cradling what looked like a newborn baby in her arms. I went to tell the Number One, and the four of us took it in turn to do a head check. We looked in the Ship's Papers Box where all documentation concerning the aircraft is kept. We looked at the passenger list and checked the number of souls on board. Sure enough, we had one extra!
We tried to ask the woman where the baby had come from, but she spoke no English. The interpreter was then brought on the scene, and he explained that she had given birth to the baby in the ladies' lav! She had delivered it herself and put the placenta into a sick bag, cleaning up herself and the baby and going back to her seat. Nobody around her had said a word. Apparently it was quite normal for these women to go literally behind a bush, give birth, and then carry on with their work. We were all dumbfounded. There was no nurse or doctor on board, so we took her to the john and made sure she wasn't bleeding excessively. She appeared perfectly all right, and the baby was in excellent health-but he had a very untidy knot for a belly button! The captain was informed, and he radioed ahead for a doctor to be on hand to examine her at Bombay Airport. The cabin staff were all stunned, and the rest of the flight passed more or less in a daze.
We landed at Bombay on schedule, and there was a huge Air India ad in the arrivals hall which said, "There's an Air about India." It always used to make us laugh because the stench at the airport was horrific, but I'm sure that is not what Air India had in mind! As we approached customs we noticed that there were many more customs officials around than usual. Normally they were quite lenient with incoming crews, but we could tell from the stern expressions on their faces that we were really in for it this time. Hilary and I went straight up to one of them with our illicit boxes and asked if we could put them in bond as they were full of "china," and we were afraid that it would get broken. In actual fact we knew that if we tried to take them through customs they would have insisted on opening them. Therefore they made us fill in the forms and put the boxes in bond until our departure.
Meanwhile the captain had been asked to open his bag. He produced two of his five bottles of Scotch as a straightforward bribe for customs. They put his five bottles on the counter, then two from each of the other members of the flight deck and two from each of the cabin staff plus two crates of beer and all my miniatures! The lineup of nineteen assorted bottles of spirits, two crates of beer, and countless miniatures made a very impressive display! The bastards confiscated the lot and had the cheek to ask us if they could have a gash bag to put their loot in! We had a lot of trouble getting out of our predicament. I think they wanted to throw us all into jail, but the captain went back to the airport the next morning to see the Chief of Customs. We never found out what happened, but I believe he paid a large fine to keep us out of jail. We heard through the grapevine that customs had a tremendous party that night, miserable pigs! That left us completely dry for the next ten days-except for the local brew.
Alfonso was there, as promised, to meet me at the airport. I asked the captain's permission to travel with him instead of in the crew bus, and he was quite agreeable to this. I recounted the events of the trip to Alfonso. I'm sure he thought I was exaggerating. As we drove along, I asked him what his sexual fantasies were. The car swerved while he looked at me, steadied himself, and replied, "I would love to rape a girl, but not for real."
I asked him to elaborate. He'd like his lover to resist his lovemaking so that he had to force her to submit. He would like her to fight back, but not to the extent of inflicting injury on each other. His wife, who had divorced him years before, was very sexually inhibited, and he hadn't dared suggest such a thing to her. He hadn't turned to prostitutes, either, but had lived with his secret fantasy.
"Well, why don't you try it with me?" I asked.
"Would you really like to? I promise faithfully not to hurt you, and if you say that you've had enough more than once I'll take that as a signal that I am in fact hurting you, and I'll stop immediately."
As we approached his apartment I said, "Let me get out of the car now, and you can drive slowly behind me and accost me in the street."
I was thrilled to bits about our little plan. It was something I'd never tried, and my regulation white panties were sodden at the crotch at the thought of what was about to happen to me. I entered the narrow alleyway which led to Alfonso's apartment. I heard brakes screech to a halt. A car door slammed shut. Footsteps pounded up the path behind me. I quickened my pace. Love juice leaked from my lower lips. I could feel its thin trickle down my inside thighs. Suddenly a heavy hand fell on my shoulders and spun me around. I was now facing Alfonso. His eyes were gleaming with almost mad desire. It must have been that old devil moon! (For a moment I thought to myself, "What have I done." But I had promised to carry it through, and carry it through I would!) He caught the top of my blouse in his hand, and with one fierce tug he ripped it so it fell in rags around my waist. Then he caught the front of my bra with both hands, and with one vicious tug it fell to the ground, and my breasts fell out into the tropical air.
I pushed him away and turned and ran, but not fast enough. He grabbed me around the waist and knocked me onto the rough ground. With a loud pop the button from my skirt flew into the air. The zipper was torn from its foundations. My skirt was wrenched to the ground. I fought him off and ran on in just my panties and shoes. Once again he caught up with me and pushed me over a trashcan in the dark alley. My panties were demolished in two seconds, and I was straddled naked over the trash can, my back against the wall. He held my neck with one hand as he opened his fly and got his cock out. He rammed it into me, lifting me inches off the trash can and smashing my head against the stone wall. I was too far gone to complain about anything. He pushed into me again and again. Each time he withdrew my bottom crashed onto the trash can. Finally I slumped to the ground. I tried to protest, but I was enjoying myself too much to protest too loudly. I was loving every violent thrust deep into my cunt. We were now rolling and thrashing around in the dirt. Alfonso had no problems with his erection. I have never felt such a hard, stiff weapon pound into my pussy. It wasn't until later that I found that the skin on my back had been rubbed raw. I clawed and fought. I called him a big beautiful bastard again and again. I tried to push his chest up and wriggled and wriggled to try and push his cock out of me. As he withdrew for another deep thrust, I' moved to one side with a tremendous effort, and the tip of his cock slipped from my cunt. I lay with legs clamped together. He pushed his strong hands between my thighs and forced them apart. I begged him to stop. The more I pleaded, the fiercer he became. Lust was dripping from his eyes which were gleaming like the insane eyes of a tiger. He fought with my thighs and pried them apart and once again hammered into me with his hard pole. I came as soon as he entered me, and he followed a few seconds later with a great scream. "You mother-fucking bitch!" he said. He rolled off me. We separated and lay like limp rag dolls in the dirt. After a few seconds of complete silence, he leaned across and kissed me long and lovingly on the lips.
"That was the best fuck I've ever had in my life, darling," he murmured. Concern had replaced the lust in his eyes as he added, "Are you all right? Did I satisfy you?" he asked.
"Yes, Alfonso, I'm fine and you were divine. I've never made such a wild and wonderful love in all my life."
He stood up, put his weapon away, and helped me to my feet. I was very unsteady. He collected the remnants of my clothing. He put his arm around me and helped me up the steps to his apartment, where he gently washed me all over and bathed my raw back with-a mild antiseptic. There was no need for talk. We climbed into the cool cotton sheets of his bed and slept all night.
During the rest of my stay in Bombay we made love many more times, much more calmly and quietly. He'd got his rape hang-up out of his system and never again did he have any trouble getting a hard-on. Every time I was in his company he had a promising bulge in his pants. I did one more shuttle to Singapore and after three days I reluctantly had to take my leave from my Spanish lover. We still write to each other intermittently, and if I ever get back to Bombay, Alfonso will be the first to know!