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Captain Wyckaert

by Bearliners


Captain Wyckaert..flight 028 CDG IAD- summer 1998

A true story, by Bearliners.

It was another one of those days, where you would wonder why you did even get out of bed. First, I woke up with a nasty headache, then I put 2 teaspoons of salt in my tea, and then I spent 30 minutes looking for my spectacles... I finally found them in the fridge, by the butter rack (they were all steamy and foggy...not very useful when you need to see something). After that, like if that was not enough for the day, I almost fell over my crew bag, splitting in half my uniform trousers--right down the middle (I MUST start a diet, I am telling you...or get some pregnancy trousers). And to make things even better, it took me 10 minutes to wake up the snoring fur ball I still had in my bed. See, I met a nice bloke from the Netherlands last night at the One-way (the bear bar in Paris at that time) and, well, we ended up in a fuck frenzy, so, I had...let's be objective, 2 hours sleep...and 4 used condoms thrown somewhere in my bedroom. The air in my flat was stale and smelling like sweat and sperm...

Anyway, I was in a haze, and not thrilled at all by the project of having to do another bloody trip to Washington--the third trip in the month, especially when I could have stayed with that nice and soft furry Dutch bear and have sex all day long. (Like if I did not get enough last night.)

Well, actually not all day long as Jaan was supposed to catch the 11am Thalys High Speed Train at Gare du Nord, back to his native Amsterdam. It was dreadfully grey outside and already hot--nastily hot, like if the sun was baking Paris. We got breakfast, a nice shower together, where we ended up with my dick in his mouth (but that's another story), I quickly swallowed two multi vitamin caplets, washing them down with a cold can of V8, and with uniform ready, crew bag packed, on we go, rushing toward the RER station and in the train heading first towards la Gare du Nord for Jaan and Roissy Charles de Gaulle Aeroport for me.

Roissy Rail was in its usual July crazed frenzy. Japanese groups, some Scandinavian students just arriving from Oslo, big groups of American and Canadians trying to adjust to the jet lag, (excuse me, sir... how come we can't pay in dollars in Paris?... ), further down, some African passengers on their way to Accra and Ouagadougou, were screaming after a check in agent about an Xcess luggage penalty to pay. Anyway... Terminal 2C was a zoo...as usual. For me, I had to be at the briefing in 5 minutes...so no time to look around any longer.

Finally, I did make it, and met my crew. Some nice folks, our Purser Catherine is a friend of mine and the sweetest girl I’ve ever met...so things were getting better. Unfortunately, as I was assigned the first class cabin, I would have nothing to do with her, as she would be dealing with the main economy cabin. Nasty weather over Iceland, so we would fly the straight road, Ireland, south Greenland and entering the North American continent over Newfoundland. The cockpit crew was already on board and it was time for us all to go and join the "Zoulou Charlie" a short cut for F-GLZC. The Airbus A340 is an absolute delight to work and fly in. Not as big as the 747, this plane does not fit as many passengers as the other jumbo, therefore it requires less cabin crew...which means, at the end, more room for us to work in the galley (a must) and because of its low noise level, it is often referred to as the whispering giant.

Being in the First Class service, gives you a huge amount of work, due to the non-stop service we have to provide, especially during a long haul flight. Not only regarding customer service, but also because, you're in charge of the cockpit, providing them drinks and meal. A nice way for me to wake up, and forget about my sore ass, and the left over from the fuck-a-thon we did last night.

To avoid a potential food poisoning, the cockpit crew members got special meals, and to make things even safer, the captain and the first officer are not served the same one...just in case. Can you imagine the whole cockpit crew sick in the middle of a flight...? God's forbid.

So, here I was, in the galley, finishing storing the left over from the meal service, and grabbing on the way a luscious slice of a wonderful parfait au champagne, and Sylvaine was doing the "coffee tea or me service" when the distinctive "ding" echoes in the cabin, and the cockpit call light turned green, on the cabin communication panel.

I’ve got to say that, because of the big amount of work, I did not have had time to actually enter the "arena"(our name for the cockpit) and say Hi...

"Bonjour Commandant...ready to eat?"

I almost collapsed against the cockpit door. Commandant Wyckaert, is looking at me, and I swear, I could feel my gaydar beeping red alert. He was in his late 50s, greyish sideburns, nicely blending in a full dark golden blond, thick beard, two deep blue eyes, reddish eyebrows, and a strawberry sandy blond fur covering his thick, hairy arms... the guy was working out... it was obvious... A daddy Bear.... YESS! Life was good after all, I must have stared at him for a while.

"Are you okay, my friend?" his voice took me out of my thoughts. He had an accent from the Nord Pas-de-Calais region that sounded so rich with his deep bass voice.

"Sorry Captain," I said with a tremolo in my voice.

I could feel my pecker getting hard and my ass was starting to twitch in remembrance of the heavy pounding it got last night...will it be my lucky day??? After a short silence, I continued, "I was lost in my thought. It’s been frantic in the cabin."

"What do we have for lunch?" he asked, dropping his headphones on top of the left flying instrument panel.

"Either a leg of lamb provencale, or some blanquette de veau a l'ancienne." Silence...the captain was looking at me from head to toe...

"You know what...let me get off that seat for a moment... I need to stretch my legs anyway, and Gilles (the First Officer) can take care of the baby for the time being."

Gilles turned his head and smiled at me. "Can you get me a coffee, Bernie, please...two sugars but no cream, and nothing to eat for now. But please keep me some lamb."

"Captain Wyckaert laughed, "Well," he said, getting out of the cockpit, "That leaves me with the blanquette, then..." He shut the cockpit door behind him.

Captain Wyckaert was 6'2 tall, and I’ve got to say that when he stood up, he was really impressive. His uniform shirt was packed with his beefy chest, showing huge round pecs, stretching his shirt to almost burst his buttons... His uniform trousers seemed to be ready to crack, and these thick hands, ending some even thicker arms, all covered with its soft silky blond pelt, like the same pelt I could see sprouting out of the collar of his shirt.

He was a daddy bear, and my knees were getting weak like noodles. I rushed into the galley and got Gille's coffee ready. I was warming the Captain meal when he entered the Galley and pulled the curtains back behind him. "Smells nice," he said displaying a charming smile, framed by his fire-coloured beard. "Where do you live?"

"Antony, south of Paris," I said, getting his plate out of the oven, "And you?"

"Born in Hazebrouck but now living in Lievin, near Lens, in the Nord. I felt in love with the black country. It sounds like a book from Zola. The corons, les terrils (the coal dust mountains...). That's my beloved Nord Pas de calais. Ever been there?"

"Yes. Once I visited a friend in Lille…other than that, no."

The Captain remained silent for a while; his eyes looking at me up and down like a scanner. "I' don't think we ever have flown together, have we?"

"I don't remember it...but having said that, I am fairly new in the A340 team..."

He was eating slowly, enjoying his food. He opened one of the cupboards and grabbed himself a ice cold small bottle of Perrier. "So...you’re new to the Airbus division..." He paused for a moment.

"Actually, yes... I’ve only passed my safety qualification on this type of aircraft last week." I could not help but notice that, while eating, the captain had his left hand in his slacks, and was scratching something that was getting more and more voluminous by the second... He was getting a hard on and a big one by what I could guess... He looked at me, a grin on his face, his piercing blue eyes reading deep inside my soul... "Nice baby, isn't it?" he said with his deep bass voice, looking at me straight in the eyes I lowered my eyes to his crotch. He was openly caressing himself now, his left hand still in his pocket.

My throat was dry..." I love it... " I said at last.

"Ain't it big?"

"I do not know it well enough yet to say yes or now, about that...but I am sure willing to find out."

"It’s a very powerful thing...and it can be very powerful at time... and very gentle some other time...just like me."

Captain Wyckaert was being a bloody tease…and I was having the meanest hard on...

"You look tired, son...what have you done? Been out yesterday?"

He called me "Son???!!!" ...I LOVE LIFE! "Just been out to the One-way with a friend of mine..." Silence...

"I know.... he was nice...but fairly young. German?"

I was stunned—I could not say a word. The Captain was at the One-way yesterday? Actually, yes. I do remember now that blond face.... That's it! That guy with a dark tank top, by the bar... It was him!!! Just can't believe it. I cleared my voice. "Where you by the bar, with a black tank top on?" I asked.

He smiled. "Dark blue vest. Yes... That was me; our eyes locked yesterday, but then that Mr. Germanic bear came in and you ignored me, like a Mr. too cute...and I was already dying to fuck your ass...”

He grabbed me by the waist..."I had been eyeing both of you .the whole night, hoping you may notice me. Was the bear nice after all?"

"He...he...was Dutch and. yes, ah...really nice." My voice was vanishing.

Captain Wyckaert was crushing his crotch against mine. I could feel his massive weapon rubbing against mine, both equally hard. "You’re lucky... I ended up alone..." he said, pressing his hands on my ass, and pushing me closer to him. ...I remained silent...my eyes lost in his, I was flying through the Gateway of bear heaven.

"Got a boyfriend, son?"

"Nope..."

"Do you like daddy bears?" He bent over and teased my lips with his bearded mouth...

"Yes."

"Do you like me?"

"Captain...why do you ask?" He put his paw on my left shoulder. I was drenched with sweat.

"Because, I do find you sexy as hell, and I find that round ass of yours even sexier...and I am having right now a mean hard on, who needs a tight bear boy ass to make him happy." He grabbed my hand and pushed it against his crotch...it was definitely hot, hard and big.

"And…" he continued, crushing me again against his hard chest, "I do like a bear cub to keep me warm at night. Would you like to make your Captain happy?"

"I could not say a word. My throat was dry and I was speechless...

"Come on, boy...would you spend the night with me in Washington, and let me feel your lips on my cock...or even better, let me fuck you gently and slowly all night long...and then fall asleep together, with my cock buried deep inside your ass, and my arms wrapped around you, to keep you warm and safe."

I almost came inside my trousers. "Yes... " I said at last, with a faint voice. "Yes, sir, nothing could make me happier..." He bent over and came close to my ear. "I may not be a young stud, like your Dutch buddy, but I sure do like to fuck, and according to my friends, I do it good. I’m gonna make you moan, sweetie Bear." He gave me a kiss and left me. "Gotta do something...give me a second. I’ll be right back." He left the galley. I was left, panting, flying higher and faster than the plane. I was completely out of this world. A minute later., Gilles arrived in the galley.

"Bernie, the Captain is waiting for you in the cockpit...." he looked at me "Enjoy...and no worries. The automatic pilot is on," he said with a cheerful wicked smile on his face. I bet he knew what happened between Captain Wyckaert and me. I entered the cockpit and shut the door behind me. Captain Wyckaert was on the left jump seat. His shirt was undone, showing a massive chest covered by a thick mat of furry blond reddish hairs, in which some white hair were blending nicely, and his fly was open, showing a massive blond cock, with a big head resting over a nice set of balls, that were hanging like two skin-wrapped eggs.

He looked at me, smiled, and then rubbed the palm of his head against his cockhead... "We have half an hour…tell me son, would you like to help me out with this?" he asked, pointing at his massive schlong.

I lowered myself onto my knees, and I took his cockhead in my mouth. Captain Wyckaert closed his eyes and put his hands on my head and started bouncing his pelvis up and down, fucking my face with his thick 9-incher. Man, I swallowed every single bit, feeling it ease down inside my throat, then pull out.

Captain Wyckaert was getting verbal. "Good boy. Come on Son, give me head, suck my cock...yeah...good boy...press your nose in my crotch...can you feel it...play with my balls...your captain balls..."

I was rubbing his balls against the palm of my hand; they were so warm, heavy...like if they were full...I gently pulled down on them. The Captain groaned, "slow down, boy... don't make me cum yet. I must get a piece of that ass of yours...drop your pants down." I did as I was told and put them over the captain seat. "Do you have some lube."

"Sorry captain, but no…not with me," my ass was sweating.

Captain Wyckaert dropped a big glob of thick spit in his hand and rubbed it against his cockhead.

"That will do," he said, grabbing me by the waist, and turning me around he grunted, "Bend over my cockpit seat."

I braced myself against the seat backrest, and he went behind me, starting to rub his thick head against the entrance of my asshole. "Your ass hole is opening already. It seems to me like your Dutch buddy fucked you good, your ass is still open! Well, at least you won't have any problem dealing with me..." and without any prelude, Captain Wyckaert, pushed himself in one long stoke, all the way in, all his massive 9 inches in. When I felt his hairy chest brushing against my back, and his balls against mine, I knew I had all of his cock inside me. I saw stars; the pain in my ass was beyond any words. I moaned...a long guttural moan. That behind my back, captain Wyckaert echoed with his guttural bass voice. "Just what I dreamed it would be," said the Captain pushing his cock further deep, all the way up to the hilt and pulling it completely out...leaving my ass open, rubbing his leaking cockhead against the entrance..."Wanna fuck Son?"

He bent over, and bit my right ear. "Tell me what you want, Son... " "Please...fuck me...oooh Dad fuck your boy..."

"Yes, son, I gonna fuck you good...just the way you like it." and he pushed his cock deep inside. Grinding his wiry pubic hairs against my now red and sore ass." I knew you wanted my cock inside your ass...it's big, isn't it. I do have a big cock son...do you like it? Like my big fuck?"

Just at that time, a voice could be heard in the cockpit, "Good afternoon AF028, Keflavik air control calling: contact frequency..."

Grabbing the headphone, captain Wyckaert pushed himself deeper inside me and started to pound my ass, while making contact with Icelandic air traffic control Talking the way a pilot would, when he is seated in his crew seat, not with his uniform undone, and his cock buried in one of his crew member's ass, while fucking my ass to a pulp. He even did a cabin announcement about the weather in Dulles, and the service on board, while he was ramming his dick in my chute like a manic, blocking my mouth with his hand so that I could not make any noise.... "Good morning... this is your Captain speaking, we are now flying south of Iceland, heading toward Greenland...bla…bla…bla.

Thank you for choosing Air France today, enjoy the flight," he eventually put the headphone back and went back to business, opening my ass till it get sore, my fuckhole clamping tight against his large thick prick while he was fucking me.

"Yeah…son...squeeze my cock with your ass. Gonna make me shoot son, I can feel it... right now...it rushes out of my bear balls. Here it comes…cum with me." And I just had to put my hand around my cock to splash cum all against the back of his captain’s seat...while, in a grunt, he flooded my inside with his cum, hot male thick cum that gushed out of his cockhead, deep inside my ass.

Captain Wyckaert collapsed against me, his blond furry arms circling me, and his hands against mine, while his cock was getting soft, inside my chute.

"Just what I hoped your ass would be..." I turned my head to look at him and he kissed me.

We stayed like that for a while, until he decided to pull out. I turned around, and looked at his hefty slab of blond cock...though it was soft, it was still oozing cum, hanging ever so heavily.

"Nice baby, isn't it?" he said with a smile.

I nodded. Captain Wyckaert and I finished dressing, adjusting our uniform and we gave each other a big hug.

"Thanks so much Captain..." I did not know what to say. "No need to thank me for anything, Son. I was dying to fuck you...and now, I can't wait to get that baby on the ground, get you in my bed tonight, and fuck your furry ass all night long... Son, I guarantee you that I sure will get you addicted to my big cock, trust me." His cum was leaking out of my ass inside my underwear.

I left the cockpit and went back to the galley...Gilles was there, having a tea and looked at me, smiling.

"It must have been wild in there. Your face is still all red," he went behind me and squeezed my ass.

That trip was bound to be great after all. Gilles left and went back to the cockpit. I entered the first class cabin with a smile on my face...


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