Mile High Club – private jet

Mile high club.

I have recently turned 40 and lo and behold for the first time in my life I received a proper adult gift. My business partners surprised me with an “unscheduled” meeting for which I was required to fly from Blackbushe Airport where our company hangars our King Air 350i. The business that we are in demands a hands-on approach when it comes to customer service and it frequently happens that either my-self or one of my partners will have to fly off somewhere to meet with clients. We have a very influential and needless to say demanding clientele and our company is known throughout our niche industry to perform minor miracles when it comes to providing an outstanding service, but I am digressing from the topic.

As I was saying, I just turned the big four-O and I must confess that I had very little interest in flying out to meet up with any of our esteemed clients that day. It was a Friday and I was hoping to make my excuses early, say before lunchtime and make a long weekend of it. Not only was it my birthday, but I have also been single again after eight years of marriage ended up in the divorce court and I was planning to have my wounds licked, maybe take a drive out to the country and book a room in a quaint village hotel somewhere. That is after having made the prerequisite stop at Top London Escorts, where I just so happen to know one or two of the most beautiful women with whom I’d love to spend my weekend.

You will well understand that when Simon, he is one of my business partners, the other being Patrick who was supposedly in Dusseldorf brokering a deal, asked me if I would mind going to butter the toast of our biggest local client who has a property in Cornwell, I was somewhat less than ecstatic about the whole affair.

Well, Simon is nothing if not persuasive, he won’t as much sell snow to Eskimo’s, he will let them have it on long term lease and the terms will put tears in the eyes of Scrooge McDuck. That is the reason why he is my business partner. Anyway, long story short, I reluctantly agreed to fly to Newquay and see to it that our clients’ needs are met, Simon promising to make it up to me in return, hopefully, a raucous night out on the town. Did I mention that I am divorced…you won’t believe what that does to a man’s libido.

The company upgraded to the King Air 350i after a stupendous 2018 and we felt that the old 200 was no longer reflecting our status in the manner that we thought we deserved, which is a load of bull, we had too much money and we needed to spend some in order move our tax base.
The plane does get used a lot though and it is a necessity, we all agree on. As we always make use of the same pilots, I got to know them all quite well over the years, and as it happened the guy flying me on the day was a jolly good chap called Arthur who has been with us forever and a day. Very good-humored and somewhere in his mid to late fifties.

We are not so flashy as to have air hostesses as 90% of the time it’s only the three of us flying from one place to the next and the time onboard is mostly spent preparing for the meetings we are to attend. The duty pilot does see to it that there are snacks and drinks on board but other than that it’s very much just business as usual.

Meeting me Arthur’s demeanor seemed somewhat more upbeat than normal, but I made nothing of it. I did, however, find it strange when he informed me that we are waiting for Simon who was on his way to bring me last-minute information. I was still pondering why Simon can’t simply email whatever it is when his Jaguar pulled in on the apron in front of the hangar.

As it happens it is not possible to send beautiful ladies via email from London Escort Agency, it’s much more appropriate to personally deliver them in the flesh. And speaking of flesh, when Simon opened the passenger door of his sedan, her legs went on forever. My jaw must have dropped and I am sure that I looked like a cartoon caricature of my lustful self, Arthur made the strangest coughing sound as he excused himself and disappeared to the front of the plane.

It is a short flight from Blackbushe to Newquay airport and I wished that we nether had to land again. Normally I don’t bother about closing the partition between the front of the plane and the rest of the cabin, but Arthur discreetly closed it after take-off and at 5280 ft he let the intercom chime a friendly “ding-dong”. By that time my lovely birthday surprise girl and myself were fully dressed in only our birthday suits and hers being an outfit to die for.

My two business partners spoiled me with the best weekend in Cornwell imaginable and the ever so gorgeous lady from the London Escort Agency pampered me and helped me by licking more than just my wounded ego.

Oh, on the flight back, yes, I am a member of the mile-high club x 2!

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