Fly Paper High Planes

Randal is thirty four single and successful. One could say that Randal lives an exciting life, flying from city to city. One day he may be in Singapore the next Belize. Everyday he soars through the clouds taking his customers to there desired locations. When he signed up for this job he didn’t realize it would lead to a lonely lifestyle. He hasn’t had sex in months. Not to mencion a girlfriend. The last rendezvous was three months and ten days ago. It was the worst sex yet. Jacklyn was a substitute flight attendant, She was beautiful but dumb. It lasted a total of 5 minutes. Randal came on to her on the way to Australia. He told her things that he knows every girl wants to hear. “oh Jacklyn you’re the only flight attendant I have ever been attracted to, you’re the last woman I want to see, your eyes are like fire flies sparkling in the night” he was good at the bull shit. She fell for the small talk and went to his airport hotel room hoping to get some good sex out of her latest job attempt. She loves to travel so she thought being a flight attendant would be the perfect way to get around the world. She got around alright. She was mortified when Randal took of his suit. He was so scrawny and pale. She should have turned away then and there. She let it slide, he was nice and he said wonderfully nice things to her. It was akward sex, the kind that you always regret the next day. She thought he had an attractive face and hadn’t has sex in a whole year so she was excited. They started making out after a few gin n tonics. He was atleast a good kisser. The kind that moves with your motions. Seamless, he was a seamless kisser. She liked the way his skin felt. This is always a good sign if you’re a good kisser you must be a good fuck. Sadly this was not the case, Randal was awful. The makeout session was longer than the act itself. Five minutes after the condom went on he went soft. She was a screamer. This is what ended it for Randal. How could she be that aroused five minutes into sex? He could just imagine the couple next door giggling at the sounds coming from their hotel room. He was sorry, he wanted it to go well badly. The eagerness might have been part of the problem. So they rolled over and didn’t say another word. She put her dress back on and that was that. They had to work together for weeks after that night. He was so embarrassed. Jacklyn told all her co workers about that night. He could tell that they knew when they walked by the cock pit, smirking to his face. That night ruined his self esteem. He stoped shaving and forgot to get his monthly haircut. His hair was starting to resemble a rooster. Not only did he let his appearance go down the toilet but he started to drink on the job. Its totally immoral to drink and fly a plane. Hopefully this is just a phase he thought. Thankfully his co pilot noticed his demise and requested that Randal take some time off. He took a month off to gather his thoughts and recover from Jacklyn. So here’s Randal thirty four and unsuccessful. He spent his month at home in Chicago. This was the longest he had spent in his apartment in years. Working hard is all he knew. He read the paper, drank coffee and gin n tonics, watched movies, tried to cook, and mostly just did a whole lot of sulking. He couldn’t get Jacklyn out of his mind. Was his days of being a stallion over? How could the night have started off so well just to end so pathetically? The night played out in his head over and over. He thought about going out to some bars to pick up a girl to redeem his self esteem. He needed a good fuck. His drinking had started to get out of control. Five gin n tonics a night is alittle outrageous. He couldn’t do it. He was too chicken shit to go up to a girl and ask her to come back to his place. He didn’t know what his problem was, he had plenty of lady friends in his days. This just drepressed him more, he didn’t have a single girl to call to fuck. As he was reading the paper one morning he noticed an ad for call girls. This was his answer, he would hire a girl to have sex with him. Then he wouldn’t have to go though the usual long drawn out dating process to get laid. He questioned a lot of girls and settled on one who went by the name of Angel. Such a perfect name for a prostitute, excuse me call girl. Angel showed up at around 7 she was very punctual. Randal had spent the afternoon cleaning his apartment he vacuumed the floor, washed the dishes, and changed his sheets. This was a good sign, maybe he was coming out of his slump. Angel cut straight to business. Her time with him was money he had to pay in advance and he wasn’t getting a minute longer with out paying for it. She has been in the business for a while and knows about all the tricks her customers like to pull. She was abnormally tall. Six feet tall to be exact. That didn’t stop her from wearing those stripper shoes. So she was actually about 6’4’’ with the heels. She had huge boobs and a decent ass. She did Pilates four times a week on top of all the action she gets on the job, needless to say she was fit. Lean mean and ready to fuck. For girls like Angel sex is just like filing papers. Whatever pays the bills right? The night was a success. Randal was able to get off and Angel actually had a good time with him. She even asked him to be a regular. Randal was so relieved that he was able to perform. Towards the end of the night Angel pulled out her signature drug, angel dust. She carried lots of drugs on her just incase her customers wanted to also buy drugs. Sex and drugs are a classic combination. She made more money selling drugs than having sex. Randal had never really done hard drugs before, he of course smoked weed when he was a teenager, but to be a pilot you have to take drug tests, so doing drugs and flying planes just didn’t go together. Randal watches angel smoke this PCP her facial expression turns blissful. She was just about to pack up and leave when Randal throws two twenties on the table. To further envelop his downward spiral he starts to take angel dust. The next day he woke up still high. He took more and started to hallucinate. He swore demons were hanging out with him in his apartment. They would have long conversations about life in hell. He started to think he wanted to go to hell. The demons were telling him that life or should I say death in hell was not as bad as most peoples perceptions. In Randals hell there were chocolate rivers and sugar coated everything. You could blink and be in a totally different part of hell. All the girls were easy. No need for money everything was free. In this altered state of mind Randal was the king of hell. I guess you could say in a way Angel brought Randal back to life. He was actually communicating, talking to imaginary beings is better than not talking at all right? So the forty dollars of pcp lasted about 4 days. He had totally lost his shit he was now super paranoid that aliens were going to fly out of the sky and beam him up to outer space, keeping him from hell. He was totally bugging out and had killer twitches. He wanted more. He calls Angel for another fun evening of sex and drugs. He decided not to tell Angel about the demons and chocolate rivers. Angel and Randal see each other everynight the following week. Randal was enjoying this lifestyle, sex and drugs were all he wanted. His job started to call him, he ignored the phone. He had lots of money saved, he could pay rent for a whole year with out working. What he didn’t account for was his new drug and sex addiction. He was spending thousands of dollars on Angel and angel dust. Angel and Randal had become good friends. One night Angel ran out of angel dust and decided to take Randal along to score some more. They took Angels car to a very sketchy part of town. The houses were all abandoned, there were crack heads smoking crack on every corner. You know your in the ghetto when the cars are covered in chrome and lifted five feet off the ground. They pulled up to Cheddars house high as hell. There were escalades and chevy caprice’s parked in the driveway decked out in spinning rims and tinted windows. Randal was scared out of his mind. He had never been to a drug dealers house, the drug lifestyle was new to him. I wish I could say that they were in and out in a jiffy but it was the opposite. They walk into this decrepit house with a plan to buy weed and angel dust. There were about ten big black guys in the living room drinking king cobras and playing poker, blunts in hand. The room was so smokey Randal had a hard time making out peoples faces. He turned around and Angel was no where to be seen. He started to make small talk with these men. “So whats crackin?” as he said this his voice cracked. The guys just started to laugh making Randal feel completely sketched out. He didn’t have a lick of ghetto in him. He was raised in white suburbia he had never been around gangsters. He had no idea about how to act. After about an hour of awkward conversation Angel emerged from the back room adjusting her sad excuse of a skirt and hiking up her tights. She had been fucking Cheddar in the back room leaving Randal alone in a room full of gangsters. There were five guns on the table, piles of cocaine, weed, and money coved every surface of the room. Angel and Cheddar start to argue about there deal. “I just fucked you give me my shit” Angel screamed. Randal was shaking he sat on his hands to keep from letting everyone in the room know he was scared out of his mind. The fight went on and on. Cuss words were flying out of everyone’s mouth. Angel finally turns to Randal and asks for 300 dollars. Randal opened his wallet all he had was a fifty. Angel snatched it and handed it over to Cheddar who in returned gave her a tiny bag of weed and a little bit of angel dust. This wasn’t even enough to last the night. Angel stomped off and said she will be back in an hour. She had a plan, she just had to convince Randal to play along. She told Randal that she was taking him to Trade and Tryon. This was where she stood on the corner some nights when she didn’t have any calls. Randal knew about this place its always getting written up in the paper as being a hot spot for crime, specifically prostitution. She pulled a gun out of her hand bag and told Randal that he was going to be gay for pay. Randal looked at her like he had been totally betrayed by his best friend. She screamed get out! Randal was so fucked he didn’t have the smarts to just run. She lit up a joint laced with angel dust and fed it to him. After the joint Randal got out of the car and went and stood against the wall with some other guys there for the same reason. It didn’t take long for someone to drive by and stop. What was Randal going to do? He was totally out of his element. How could he go from Belize to boy toy in a matter of a month? The man that pulled up was a bald, short, burley man about fifty years old. Randal looked in Angels direction and Angel flashed him her gun. Petrified Randal walked up to the car and asked the man what his name was he replied Frank. Randal didn’t know what to say next. He let Frank do the talking. “So are you getting in or what dude im trying to get a blow job?” Was he actually doing this? He turned around and threw up on the curb. There was no way he was going to get in that car. There was defiantly no way he was going to put his mouth on that guys cock. He had been approached by gay men in the past but always just said he was flattered but straight. He felt like he didn’t have a choice he was staring in angels direction she just waved her hand telling him to get in. He opened the door and cups and papers fell out onto the street. This Frank character was a slob. This was disgusting. Frank drove around the block as Randal did the deed. They pulled back up behind Angel and Randal got out of the car totally mortified. He had just been payed 50 dollars to give a blow job to a burly man named Frank. He got back in the car with Angel and gave her the 50 dollars. Why was he doing this? Why had he let his life stoop so low? Why was he associating with prostitutes? Why was he becoming a prostitute? He had let his life fall through the cracks. That blow job snapped him out of it. He told angel to take him home. She didn’t listen. She was holding him hostage. While Randal was riding around with Frank Angel managed to smoke all the weed and angel dust. So she had nothing for Randal when he got back in the car. He didn’t care he was over this new lifestyle he wanted to be back in the air he missed flying. He missed his quasi normal life. He begged to go home but Angel just drove back to Cheddars house. This time she told Randal to stay in the car and she told him to get into the drivers seat. This cant be good what kind of tricks did she have up her sleeve this time? Five minutes later she came running out of the house five gangsters running after her guns in hand. One would wonder why she didn’t die right then and there. She made it to the car Randal and Angel raced down the street. Thankfully the gangsters didn’t follow. Angel was small time to them plus they knew she would be back the next day. She always pulls this shit. She ran in the house gave Cheddar 50 dollars and took 300 dollars worth of shit. Randal was completely totally fed up. He drove straight to his house got out of the car and ran up stairs and locked the door. That was the last he saw of Angel. That was the last blow job he ever gave. That was the last time he will ever go to Cheddars house. That was the last night he would ever take PCP. The next day his phone rang off the hook. His mother, his sister, his boss, but mostly Angel. Angel had developed a crush, she left messages about wanting to go straight wanting to get a real job wanting to spend her life with him. He only answered when his boss called. He told him he would report back to work if he still had a job the next day. He kicked his habit just like that. He went back to his usual life and told noone about his month when they asked he lied and said he spent his time surfing in Maui. Too bad they totally knew he was lying……he was ghostly white.

Fly Paper High Planes

EmilyPfahl

Charlotte, United States

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