69 - Jessy

When we entered my private cabin, Hazz entered first, still leaning against the walls and desperate for some solid support. The plane wasn't swinging, but I understood his fear. Falls were not so frequent, especially in private jets, I was always making sure that my crew was well rested and happy to perform my flights. It was a routine for me, a custom, so I wasn't stupid enough to find it funny in his affliction.

However, when I closed the door and stared at him sitting on my bed, I was apprehensive. I could very well deal with quick and easy sex in a bathroom, somewhere tight, or in a hurry in a shared house, but... I don't know. Seeing him in my bed, knowing that I frequented that jet with more familiarity than my own house, was a different kind of intimacy. I knew I would smell him there on every trip, at every moment away from home. Even if the bed linen was changed, even if a long time passed until I took another trip. Hazz would remain. We would create a memory. And memories do