Ground High Club - Andrea McKenna - ebook
Opis

By day Jess is a student at a prestigious and competitive university studying law. By night she writes steamy erotic fantasies with her pretending to be someone else as a way to relax and de-stress, posting them online for others to read. After a fresh shower and a shave down below, she sits in front of her computer in her jammies (without underwear for when things get juicy) and starts writing … Jess is a flight attendant for a commercial airline. She’s flown over half the world, sampling and tasting the local cultures she’s exposed to. More often than not, this includes one night stands with locals or tourists in the cities she finds herself in. Fly in, enjoy a night of hot and sweaty passion, fly out again. Literal tasting and sampling. That all changes when Dylan joins the company and is attached to her regular flight team. Dylan is quiet and bookish, different from most pilots who tend to be loud and playful or married. He intrigues Jess, so much so that it starts interfering with her normal overnight fun. Bad weather in Newark causes the flight team to hole up in a local hotel until conditions allow their flight plan to continue. While in the hotel restaurant, a nervous and aroused Jess hits on Dylan, but it doesn’t go quite as planned and he turns in early for the night. After a few more drinks, Jess bottles up the courage to knock on his hotel room door. Is he the polite professional he appears to be, or is there a bad boy hidden underneath the starched and immaculate uniform that she wants to rip off almost every time she sees him in it? Will he invite her in, or tell her to go back to her own room? Jess intends to find out, consequences be damned.

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Table of Contents

Copyright

Social Media

Other Titles

Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

GROUND HIGH CLUB

 

The Jesscapades Series

Book 1

 

 

 

by Andrea McKenna

 

© Copyright 2018 Andrea McKenna. All rights reserved.

 

 

This publication contains content of a sexual nature and should only be read by mature audiences ages 18+.

 

 

All characters presented in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

STAY ON TOP OF ME!

 

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www.facebook.com/AndreaMcKennaWrites

 

Find me on Twitter at:

www.twitter.com/AMWritesErotica

 

Or visit me at my website to

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free content:

www.andreamckennawrites.com

 

 

THE JESCAPADES SERIES

Sextet I

Ground High Club

A Little Corporate Punishment

Bound for Pleasure

The Hostess With the Moistest

Responding Pair of Medics

Attending the Mask Parade

 

 

BEYOND BEST FRIENDS

Secrets Bold, Secrets Told

 

 

OTHER TITLES

The Work Wife (website exclusive)

 

By day Jess is a student at a prestigious and competitive university studying law. By night she writes steamy erotic fantasies with her pretending to be someone else as a way to relax and de-stress, posting them online for others to read. After a fresh shower and a shave down below, she sits in front of her computer in her jammies (without underwear for when things get juicy) and starts writing …

 

Jess is a flight attendant for a commercial airline. She’s flown over half the world, sampling and tasting the local cultures she’s exposed to. More often than not, this includes one night stands with locals or tourists in the cities she finds herself in. Fly in, enjoy a night of hot and sweaty passion, fly out again. Literal tasting and sampling.

That all changes when Dylan joins the company and is attached to her regular flight team. Dylan is quiet and bookish, different from most pilots who tend to be loud and playful or married. He intrigues Jess, so much so that it starts interfering with her normal overnight fun.

Bad weather in Newark causes the flight team to hole up in a local hotel until conditions allow their flight plan to continue. While in the hotel restaurant, a nervous and aroused Jess hits on Dylan, but it doesn’t go quite as planned and he turns in early for the night. After a few more drinks, Jess bottles up the courage to knock on his hotel room door.

Is he the polite professional he appears to be, or is there a bad boy hidden underneath the starched and immaculate uniform that she wants to rip off almost every time she sees him in it?

Will he invite her in, or tell her to go back to her own room?

Jess intends to find out, consequences be damned.

 

Contains hot and heavy sex scenes and romance that will put your head in the clouds. Includes masturbation, oral, hetero, and vaginal penetration. A LOT of masturbation, so get ready for it!

1

 

“SO, JESS, HOW WAS MARRAKESH?”, asked Georgette.

As a flight attendant, sometimes you find yourself being asked to cover on other flights short of bodies because of flu or illness, or from working more hours than the FAA allows between rest periods. An attendant on the flight to Marrakesh couldn’t get the required twelve hours rest between his flights and so needed a substitute. That’s how I ended up in in the Moroccan city a few nights ago, my last stop before arriving in Texas.

“Uh,” I said, “It was pretty great. I ended up going to bed early after arrival so that I could hit up the Jemaa el-Fnaa market in the morning before coming here to Dallas. I’ve always wanted to see snake charmers and belly dancers in the flesh. It was pretty cool.”

To tell the truth, Marrakesh was a complete bust. I didn’t go to bed alone by my own choice.

As usual, I glammed myself up and went out on the town, hitting up one of the more well-known and safer local bars. The glamming was more subdued than I could have got away with back in the United States. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, as they say. I wore long pants and made sure that my shoulders were covered, though I did leave my long red hair untied so that it fell across the shoulders I was covering.

The other two flight attendants who had been on the flight with me, girls I’d flown with multiple times before, were similarly dressed. We all stayed together as a group. As usual, if we found someone worth boning on our excursion, we’d all come back to the hotel together in the same cab. And only to our hotel, not theirs. We had hotel rooms next to each other, so we’d be able to hear any commotion that was going on, just to help us stay safe. If things went well, all we’d hear is each other screaming and shouting in pleasure as we sampled the local flavors, as you will. The other girls picked up a couple of Europeans that night, two young lads from Barcelona, but nobody really piqued my interest. I ended up going back to my hotel room alone.

Because all I could do was think about goddamned Dylan Holmes, the dark-haired green-eyed pilot, all night.

I ended taking care of myself with the help of Roger, the little Rabbit vibrator that was my constant, never-complaining and always-eager-to-please travel partner (as long as he had batteries). It did help that I could hear the other girls moaning and crying in pleasure in the rooms next door. Having the middle adjoining room sometimes has its benefits. It’s cheaper than paying for internet access to get porn in many cities, if the city even has access to it.

Georgette looked at me then narrowed her eyes.

“You didn’t get laid that night, did you?” she asked.

“Goddammit, no I didn’t!”

Georgette laughed softly. “Girl, you’re trying too hard. You don’t have to sleep with someone in every city you visit.”

I grinned at her. “No, I don’t. But it’s a perk of the job, and if you don’t use it, you lose it. Besides, easy for you to say because you’re married.”

“You don’t think I don’t get tempted from time to time?”

“Do you?” I asked. I was sure she did but never acted on it. I mean, she’s only human.

“Not really. Ty is enough for me. And sex is better and lasts longer when you haven’t seen each other for a few days and have some catching up to do. But I do enjoy looking at the available options at the meat buffet.”

Georgette and Ty have been married for five years, and have a young daughter together. Ty’s job makes enough money that they can afford care for her while Georgette works away from home. Georgette had been talking about getting another job, in the company or elsewhere, that allows her to stay at home more and see her daughter. When she’d started working for the company over ten years ago she’d loved the freedom that travel offered, not to mention the side perks. After meeting Ty, she’d still go out with the other staff, but would be mother hen or designated driver instead of pack leader.

Up until a few weeks ago, I too loved the freedom to pick up and discard men (and the occasional woman) in the cities we stayed overnight in. Fly in, bang, fly out. No attachments, no drama. Just good old-fashioned noncommittal sex that when done right leaves us both hot and sweaty and in need of a shower. Which invariably leads to more sex in the shower, and then even more sex back in the bedroom. Sometimes there’s even sex in the bars or elevators, depending on how well (or not) we could control ourselves.

Hotel sex really was the best sex.

Except when it’s just you and your vibrator. And lately, there’s been a lot of that. While thinking about Dylan.

Thinking about him kissing me, touching me, being inside of me.

Dammit. I was getting wet again, which was not a good thing right now. We were heading towards the concourse towards our flight out of Dallas Forth Worth, or DFW, Airport. I didn’t want to be stuck in the air for just over three hours needing to get myself off. I decided to change the subject to something mundane in the hope it would keep me from thinking about sex. Or Dylan. Or sex with Dylan.

Dammit.

“Speaking of which,” I said, “did you see the latest episode of Highway Helions?”

Her nose wrinkled. “You’re still watching that?”

“You’re not? How can you not? It’s great!” I exclaimed.

“I stopped watching it after that episode where they blew up the club. Things started getting stupid at that point.”

Highway Helions was one of my guilty pleasures. The show about bikers was allegedly modeled on real biker gang experiences, although it did seem to be pretty farfetched with all the Machiavellian politics and the complicated family relationships. At times it was like a soap opera. A soap opera on steroids with bikers.

“I don’t watch it for its ability to model reality.”

“No,” Georgette replied, “you watch it for the sex. Admit it.”

“Do not,” I countered. “I watch it for the plot.”

“Oh, right. The plot. Suuuuure. Because there’s a ton of that.”