Chapter 15
A Taste of Honey
Before we left Bombay, Hilary and I collected our boxes from Bonded Stores and staggered out to the aircraft. We had a full load of troops and their families returning from Singapore. We were kept very busy throughout the flight, but Hilary found a spare moment to unpack her box of booze because she didn't think she would get it through customs in Kuwait. Kuwait, as T mentioned earlier, was a dry state, and you could get about ten pounds per bottle if you managed to smuggle any liquor through customs. Hilary had told me about this on the way out. We had our five bottles each, which we had purchased for next to nothing in Singapore. We'd make a vast profit by selling it in Kuwait. Hilary had a telephone number to ring when she got there; upon receiving her call, the contact man would come around to the hotel, pay us, and take the booze. Hilary had also taken the precaution of purchasing a car coat at Singapore Airport. She knotted the sleeves and stuffed two bottles of Scotch down each sleeve and put the fifth in the large inside pocket; she then covered the car coat with a large polyethylene bag. I kept my booze in the boxes.
We both held our breath as we approached customs. My knees were shaking. I knew that a lot of crews had in the past smuggled in booze, but this was my first attempt, and I was terrified of being caught and of the consequences; after all, I could be put in jail if customs got really nasty! At the same time, the thrill of being very wicked spurred me on. I'm sure we both looked terribly guilty. Hilary was cleared first. They opened her suitcase and looked into her overnight bag while she clutched the car coat in her arms. She was making a dreadful job of trying to look nonchalant. Finally she was through, but as she bent to pick up her overnight bag the car coat slipped. I stopped breathing and shut my eyes waiting for the horrible sound of breaking bottles, but hearing nothing I opened my eyes and saw that Hilary had regained her grip on the coat about an inch above the floor. Her face was scarlet, and there was sweat pouring off her forehead. She turned, and I could tell that she was trying very hard not to run to the exit and escape.
The porter lifted my heavy suitcase and my overnight bag onto the counter and the customs officer asked to see inside my overnight bag. I had placed my two boxes of "china" on the counter alongside my luggage. The customs officer tapped the boxes with a fat brown finger.
"What's in here?" he asked.
"It's a tea set for my mother," I replied hoping my voice sounded steadier than my heart felt. My cheeks were flaming red, and I could feel my uniform blouse sticking to my back and rivulets of perspiration running down the insides of my thighs and splashing onto my shoes.
"Open them!" he commanded.
"But they're beautifully packed," I replied. "I would rather leave them in bond than spoil all the packing."
He stared at me for what seemed like hours, but were actually only a few seconds. He was weighing up the pros and cons of allowing me to pass, and this was what I had gambled upon-if I were willing to leave them in bond, it's un likely that I'd have anything illegal in them.
It meant extra paperwork for him. I almost screamed with relief as he put his mark on each box with a piece of chalk. I had done it! I clutched my boxes and exited at top speed! Hilary and I hugged each other with delight while we sat in the transport and waited for the rest of the crew.
As soon as we got into our rooms Hilary phoned the contact man. A big swarthy Arab with a pockmarked face arrived ten minutes later carrying a large bag to relieve us of our loot. T had decided to let Hils dispose of her five bottles, but I was convinced I would get more for mine elsewhere. She told me I was nuts and that it was too dangerous to try getting rid of it any other way, but I persisted. The contact man handed Hils fifty pounds in sterling and left. I then dragged her downstairs and along the street to the tobacconist's. I began to talk about having Scotch and not knowing what to do with it. Hilary kept trying to shut me up, but I'd only just opened my mouth when I was approached by an Arab who turned out to be a very good customer. I gave him my room number, and fifteen minutes later he arrived and gave me sixty pounds in sterling for four bottles only. I kept one bottle for an old friend who I had found out was living and working in Kuwait.
Actually he wasn't exactly an old friend, but more of an old crush; at least I had had a crush on him when I was a schoolgirl. I was hopeless at math at school. All the teachers had given up, so while I was on the long summer vacation in France T went for extra coaching to a delectable young accountant in the town where I was staying. At sixteen I had tried every feminine wile to get him interested in something other than math. I showed him more leg than was absolutely necessary and deliberately dropped my books and bent to pick them up, showing my nice white panties. He was a clever gentleman and kept his mind on his subject. If he'd taken me up on what T was offering, I wouldn't have been able to cope. I was just being an ordinary teenybopper prick-teaser! Now, however, he was stuck in Kuwait for a year on excellent pay, but with no white women or booze, so the boot was definitely on the other foot. I was going to call the tune. I phoned him up, and he asked me out to dinner. Thankfully Jean-Claude was away on vacation, so I didn't have to contend with him, too.
James was coming to pick me up, and we were dining at his place. I put on my little micro-mini and separated my hair into two bunches with a big white bow holding each in place. I'd borrowed a tie from one of the flight deck and wore it around the neck of my white blouse. I had my tennis gear with me, and I put on my white socks and pulled them up to my knees. I was actually taking the piss out of him. I wanted him to see me as a schoolgirl and then spring the surprise on him that I was all woman underneath. I hadn't seen him for four years. He'd hardly changed at all-a little grayer around the temples and a little wider around the middle, but he had the same smoldering eyes and dazzling white smile that I'd liked so much before.
As soon as we arrived at his apartment, I presented him with his bottle of Scotch. He did a double take when he saw my outfit for the first time.
"Wow!" he exclaimed, looking at my swelling blouse. "You've certainly grown since we last met-in one direction, anyway," he added.
"Thank you kindly, sir," I said dropping a curtsey. "I don't have to call you sir, any more, do I?" I asked.
"No," James retorted, "but I can see you're going to be in control, so I'd better call you ma'am. I love your outfit. Is that especially for me?" he asked.
"Gee whiz, of course," I replied. "Gosh, I only wanted to take you back to the good old days when I'm sure you always wanted to fuck me, but remained terribly correct and, may I add, rightly so. I wouldn't have known what to do then with a big stiff prick."
He looked disappointed.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I really know how to treat a nice big hard-on now. I've had plenty of practice."
James brightened up considerably. I approached him and put my hand straight between his legs. His trousers were hiding gnarled, knotted tree trunk with two well-rounded acorns attached to its stumpy stalk. Cor blimey!
"Is that a ruler in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?" I asked and added, "What's for dinner?" not moving my hand one iota.
"F ... f ... fish," he stuttered, staring down at my hand.
"I'm not hungry," I replied. "Not for fish."
I got down on my knees, unzipped his fly, and pulled out his cock. I put it straight into my mouth and gave it a friendly nibble. "This is better than the math coaching you gave me," I said with a wicked smile. James was going weak at the knees.
"It's also better than the lollies you used to lick," he said. I could hear him muttering something about the bedroom. I let his cock go for a moment. It's rude to talk with your mouth full, and I was well brought up.
"Okay," I said, "you lead the way."
I crouched down, returned his cock to its position in my mouth while he backed slowly into the bedroom. We progressed very cautiously until James was up against the bed. He flopped onto it, causing his cock to pop from my lips unceremoniously. I fell on top of him head first and returned his cock to my mouth. His breathing was very raucous. He'd been in Kuwait for four months already, and I suppose this was the first pair of lips (apart from his own if he were that athletic) he had had wrapped around his tool. Living in the midst of all that sand, with water scarce and liquor nonexistent (except in high quarters), he was desperately in need of some relief, and I'm sure like most people he would prefer a good plate to a solitary jack off. He became the pupil, and I became the teacher.
I reluctantly released his weapon and took off his shoes, pulled off his trousers and underpants, and gently eased his shirt off his shoulders. He had a good body despite the slight thickening at the waist. I asked him if he had any honey. He looked surprised, but nodded and pointed weakly toward the kitchen. I found a large jar of honey on a shelf and returned to the bedroom with it. I dolloped a large amount on his upright pole. It trickled slowly from the head of his circumcised cock into his pubes and balls below. Then I began to lap up the lovely gooey mess with feather-light strokes! I licked, sucked and swallowed very slowly like a cat licking its paws until the smooth pinky-purple head of his cock was clean. Then I started on the stalk; gobbling greedily at the honey.
"I'm coming!" he suddenly shouted out.
"Don't you dare," I replied.
"I haven't started yet. Think of a mathematical problem and try to solve it!" I suggested.
"I'll try," he answered, and I could see his lips moving at great speed while he tried to apply his mind to his problem. I continued happily with my very super sticky stalk. That was soon clean and shining, and I went to work on his pubes and balls. His balls were completely smooth and hairless and therefore easy to lick clean. The honey had matted in a mess on his pubes, and I could suck only a little of the sweet runny liquid from his bush. I looked up at James. His fists were clenched, and he was muttering insanely to himself.
"Please don't stop," he pleaded.
"Just a moment," I replied. "I'll be back in just a moment."
I searched the apartment, but couldn't find what I wanted, so I had to improvise. (All good stews are taught to improvise.)
I went to James's wardrobe and took out four ties. I lay on top of James (still in my schoolgirl outfit) and kissed one of his armpits and the smooth flesh of his inside arm. I circled my tongue around his palm and inserted his fingers one at a time into my mouth and fellated them as though they were precious little pricks. Before he knew what was happening, I quickly tied his outstretched arm to one end of the bed. I started giving the same treatment to the other arm until that too was fastened to the bed. I kept kissing him and fondling his prick, so that he was in no state to protest. I applied my tongue to his inner thigh and worked my way down to his ankle. I had craftily moved his leg out as I licked my way down it and lashed his ankle to the end of the bed. Before he knew it, his other leg got the same treatment, and he was spread-eagled naked with his cock waving in the wind. It was crying out for attention, but I wasn't ready to receive it yet. James was ecstatic and begged me to sit on his cock.
I stood with my legs apart astride his head and dropped my drawers onto his smiling face. T looked down. This man who had resisted me with an iron will when I was a schoolgirl was now completely under my control. I felt an almost insane sense of power and pleasure flow through my being. Only his dark hair on the pillow was visible above the white froth of my panties. I placed my hands on the wall and stepped out of them. I bent down and chucked them on the floor. Now he had a fine view right up my short skirt between my legs. I stood astride him and pulled my clit wide open. I looked around at his cock. It was dancing about as though it had been plugged into a high-voltage electric circuit. I leaped from the bed and grabbed the pot of honey. I smeared the sticky stuff all over my pussy. I slowly lowered myself until my honey-pot was right over his face. He had no choice but to lick it. He did this with an almost violent greed-sucking, licking, and biting like a madman. I could have sat on his face forever. Why should I show him any mercy or give him the relief he craved? After all, he'd kept me at more than a cock's length all the time he had been coaching me. He needed no coaxing to lick my cunt clean. While I squatted over his face I took off my blouse and bra, but kept my tie on.
When I had my pleasure from him, I got up and off the bed. I paraded around the room wearing just my tie, miniskirt and long white socks and shoes. I bent over to take off my shoes exposing my bare ass to him, but he was powerless to pounce on 'me. I leaned against the wall and played with my boobs, rubbing the nipples slowly, sensuously, around and around. James turned his head toward me, his eyes brimming over with desire. I raised my miniskirt, exposing my neat little tuft, and let my fingers stray down into the furry mass and onto my pussy. I stood and masturbated while he tossed and turned on the bed, unable to join in. I knew when I had gone far enough. I got onto the bed and stood over his rock-hard cock. I lowered myself until I was kneeling over him. I caught hold of his wandering weapon and inserted its head into my warm ripe furrow. He raised his bottom off the bed and moved upwards to meet my downward thrust. I pushed him back roughly onto the bed.
"I'm going to fuck you," I said. "I'm in control, and I'm going to fuck you to death," I added.
"Get on with it, you beautiful bitch," he shouted. "How dare you make me wait so long? For the last twenty minutes all I've wanted to do was stick my cock in your cunt! Don't talk!" he commanded. "Fuck!" he ordered in sheer desperation.
I bounced up and down on him, thrusting myself onto his rampant pole.
"I'm fucking you!" I screamed, pushing myself down and down. We were shouting and screaming at each other. Suddenly he was silent. I had already started on my path to ultimate pleasure. I humped him until I was done and he was utterly spent.
I fell forward onto him and released his arms. He immediately grabbed at my boobs and squeezed them so hard I thought he'd pull them off. I undid his legs, and he leaped from the bed, snatched the honey, and poured it all over my, face and torso. He kissed and sampled every part of my boobs and face until we were one dreadful sticky mess. The sheets were covered with honey. The hair on my head felt as though it had been glued together. Eventually he calmed down.
"I didn't realize you liked schoolgirls and honey so much," I said.
He smiled a smile of pure bliss. "Christ, you were just what I needed! Can't you stay here forever?" he asked.
"Forever's a long time," I replied. "You're only here for another eight months. I'll be back every few weeks, and I won't make you wait so long for what you want the next time. You can put your lovely cock in me as soon as I'm in the door-or even earlier if you like! But you'd find it very difficult to drive with a girl sitting on your rigid cock! The locals also get very upset at the strange habits of foreigners in their country!" This was something I was to find out the very next day. We parted on the very best of fucking terms.
The next day Hilary and I embarked on a very stupid and perilous adventure. We had heard that you could sell blood at ten pounds per pint in Kuwait so we took a taxi with another girl on the crew and set off for the hospital. I must say I don't really know why I did this, and it's one of the few things I am ashamed to admit I have done. I had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, the Kuwaitis are a tremendously rich nation and need to keep a blood bank like everyone else; on the other hand, I don't really approve of people being paid to be blood donors. Anyhow, it was a new experience so I went along with it. On the way to the hospital we were sitting in the cab smoking. Unfortunately for us, this was the feast of Ramadan in Kuwait, and during this period the Kuwaitis fast in the daytime, and any practice such as smoking is greatly frowned upon. The car slowed down to turn right, and a number of locals spotted us smoking and spat on the car, hurling several stones at us. We didn't come to any harm, but were badly frightened.
We arrived at the hospital and joined the line. A sample was taken to establish what blood group we were. The other girl fainted as soon as she saw the unsanitary conditions and the large rusty needle that lay on the table. Hilary and I decided to go ahead. We were laid down to rest on soiled sheets, where many bodies had lain before. Thin grubby curtains separated our narrow beds. The curtain next to me on the other side to Hilary was pushed back by someone. An Arab with one tooth in his head smiled at me as he laid on his bed. I turned my head away, and he let the curtain drop. If he'd been a really delectable dish, I might have hopped over and given him one before they siphoned my pint from me, but the one large decaying tooth in his receding gums didn't exactly grab my imagine.
Hils and I chatted to keep up our morale. Giving a pint of blood is not a great ordeal, but in those surroundings it was a mite worrying. I began to think of all the dreadful diseases we might contract. A nurse bustled in and grabbed my arm. I closed my eyes and turned my head away. I didn't want to watch anything at all, especially not my blood dripping drop by drop into the bottle. It was soon over, and I was given a glass of orange juice and told to rest for a while. Hils got the same treatment, and we got up and went out into the burning heat. It was well over a hundred degrees as we lined up with a motley crew of Arabs to collect our ten pounds. We went back to the hotel and straight to bed, where we stayed all afternoon and night. Our flight was due out the next day at 1800 hours, and that was the beginning of the end.
The aircraft came in on time and then went out of service on the ground, and we were stuck with a hundred thirty-two passengers while the engineers tried to fix the aircraft. It was still very hot, and the passengers were getting very het up and the babies and small children very irritable in the primitive building which served as a transit lounge. The delay went on and on while the four of us cabin staff tried to pacify the irate passengers. They had been traveling for hours and were desperately tired. After an hour and a half, with no sign of the mechanical failure being fixed, we decided to serve the passengers their meal on the ground. This was a hell of a lot of work-running down the steps from the aircraft with the trays and then taking the cart down and setting it up for tea and coffee. The atmosphere was hot and unhealthy as dusk fell.
Eventually we boarded the passengers and set off on our way after a four-hour delay. We took off just in time, for another hour on the ground and the flight deck would have been out of hours. They were only allowed to be on duty (including on the ground) for sixteen hours, and if the time on the ground and the flight time exceeded the limit, another flight deck crew had to be found. Otherwise we would have had to night-stop the passengers until the crew was rested. (The same regulations didn't apply to cabin staff.) Luckily we had just beaten the clock. We were heading home to London, but with a stop in Istanbul to refuel and change the flight deck.
About two hours out of Kuwait we gave the passengers a snack service. As they had already had their main meal, we had loaded on sandwiches and cake in Kuwait to serve in flight. We had just given out all the trays, and Hils was carrying two large silver teapots while I was right behind her with two coffeepots. The aircraft started to bump a bit, and the captain switched on the seat belt sign. As the turbulence wasn't too bad, we continued to serve the passengers, but announced over the PA system that they were to fasten their seat belts and remain seated until the signs were switched off. Before we knew what had happened, we were in the middle of a really bad storm. The coffee and tea pots flew out of our hands as the aircraft rose and sank like an elephant in labor. Trays lifted like poltergeists from the knees of the passengers and flew around in the air. Hilary and I were on the floor. I thought her massive water wings would have floated her like a bird on the wing to the ceiling. I turned and saw her bottom disappearing up the cabin as she crawled on all fours, clutching the metal supports of the seats. I went the other way and made it to the middle galley where I managed to strap myself to the jump seat.
All the passengers were being violently sick as the aircraft heaved like a bucking bronco. I sat on the jump seat and was also very sick, in full view of the passengers. I retched into the large trash bag which was adjacent to my seat. The passengers stared at me in horror, but there was absolutely nothing I could do. One woman opposite me kept pressing her button and calling, "Stewardess, stewardess!" There was no way I was going to endanger my life when all she wanted was another sick bag. She'd have to manage somehow.
After half an hour of the worst turbulence I have ever experienced, the tossing gradually ceased and the big bird slowly settled into calm flight. I staggered from my seat and stared at the mess. It looked as though a tornado had torn through the cabin. We had to clear up the mess and quiet the passengers. The babies were screaming, the children-and some of the adults-were crying but it was all over, and we had to do the best we could. All the cabin crew felt as sick as the passengers, but tried hard not to show it. It had been so rough that even the Johns had spilled over. We did the only thing that we could do, and that was to clean up as much of the mess as we could. I have never worked so hard in such foul conditions in my life and hope never to again. We cleaned up the aircraft and made the passengers as comfortable as possible. I helped the Number Four girl who was trying to quiet all the screaming babies by giving them bottles. I dropped a tiny amount of liquid phenergan into each bottle, which would put them to sleep safely for the rest of the flight. Nobody wanted to finish their meals, and very few passengers wanted anything to drink. Only the most hardy.
I went into the flight deck to ask the crew what booze, if any, they wanted to take into Istanbul. The last thing I remember was writing down their order. Then suddenly I felt someone shaking me by the shoulder. It was the Number One. We were about to land at Istanbul, and I had fallen asleep standing up with my arms and head resting on the back of the engineer's seat. The captain had been very sweet and let me sleep.. I had woke up with a start feeling stiff and very sick. I rushed to the bar to get their order ready before we landed. It was a great relief to me to see the lights of Istanbul twinkling below us.
We commenced our final descent. We landed very smoothly and had almost come to a complete standstill when the undercarriage buckled under the vast belly of the aircraft, and we sank into a bed of mud. All four stews ran to their emergency stations and attached and threw out the chutes. The ground staff had surrounded the aircraft and had caught the bottoms of the chutes. Some bright spark had leaned a ladder against the aircraft at one exit so when the stew threw out the chute it got all tangled up with the ladder. Despite this and the reluctance of the passengers to exit via the chutes, we managed to evacuate the aircraft in well under two minutes. I couldn't believe how reluctant some of the passengers were to get out. One woman wanted to go back for her handbag. We literally had to pull the shoes off others so they didn't rip the chute and give them a hefty push or kick on the backside. As I tipped them out onto the chute, I told them to run as far as they could from the aircraft. After all, the whole thing could have exploded and gone up in flames in a matter of seconds. My speed and anxiety were also out of concern for myself, for once they were out, I could go as well.
We did a brief check through the cabin, looking mainly in the skycots to see that no babies had been left behind. I then must have broken the world record for sliding down aircraft chutes. I was out and away. One or two of the passengers had broken or twisted their ankles by falling off the chutes, but apart from a few minor injuries everyone was fine, if badly shaken. Ambulances and fire engines were standing by. Thank God the aircraft didn't burst into flames, and the ambulances were only needed to take care of the shocked and injured. Everyone was looked after and transported either to a hospital or a hotel.
Only then did we cabin staff stop and realize how terrifying the whole experience had been. Once in the safety and comparative quiet of my hotel room, I burst into floods of tears and vowed never, never to fly again. However, the company very wisely crewed us after minimum rest on the next flight out so we were hardly given any time to dwell on our plight or our loss of nerve. The flight deck were very cheery and said the chances of us being involved in another crash or near crash were very slight. We tried very hard to smile brightly at our passengers. The aircraft had come into Istanbul from Melbourne empty, so we had the remnants of the same passengers who had been through the ordeal with us. They were marvelous, helpful and terribly appreciative of how quickly and efficiently we had evacuated them. We reached Heathrow without any further incident. As the wheels touched down I held my breath, but there was no need. It was just another normal landing. I was sorry to see the passengers go. It's funny how close complete strangers become when they have shared some dreadful experience together. It was as though some silent inexplicable bond were holding us together, linking us forever.