Quote:
Originally Posted by
wattonhenry
Sounds like a fun job you are doing @
Online2Offline
A.k.a. “Corporate Slave”
Quote:
Originally Posted by
haroit
Just returned to Singapore shore by SIA this morning, the last post is super relatable.
More please!!
I hope you enjoyed your flight. It’s a shame the crew have their masks on all the time. But some do look good (or better) with masks… especially those with mesmerizing eyes…..
(Continuation)
… she unintentionally provided a sneak preview, a glimpse of her breasts. They were lovely. A light but tantalising whiff of perfume permeated the air. I immediately liked what I saw and smelt, simultaneously… I had a good view of her curvaceous body wrapped in her sarong kebaya, especially the butt…..
- - - - -
After the first meal service, I decided to take a stroll through the whole length of the plane. Excluding the cockpit, I reckon I walked about 70m one way, or 140m by the time I made my way back to my seat. It was nice to stretch a little and casually walk past my fellow passengers. But the real reason was I wanted to check out the flight’s entire crew, you know, to see if there were any other sweeties besides Nancy.
I confirmed that Nancy was the most attractive crew for me, based on her pretty face and svelte physique. Coincidentally, she was also the youngest (or at least youngest looking) crew on board. I would subsequently find out that she was 27, when I met her off-duty.
Nineteen hours is a very long flight time, and although I took naps and Nancy went for her scheduled rest breaks, there were ample opportunities to interact. However, the interactions were around serving of F & B and we kept our exchanges professional, without any flirting. But it was obvious there was mutual attraction. Each time we interacted and our eyes met, my heart would beat faster, and beyond the initial few seconds of eye-to-eye contact, Nancy would look away shyly.
Without being bias, I rated Nancy’s (in-flight) service highly. And some two hours before scheduled landing time, Nancy came around. She was holding a feedback form. I am familiar with the form, having completed it several times in the past. But I was curious how Nancy would put it to me.
“Mr. O2O, we are so glad to have you fly with us today. I hope you are happy with our service. Would you be kind enough to provide some feedback, please?”, Nancy said in a polished tone. She was half-squatting beside my seat, which gave me a fresh angle to look at her slightly exposed breasts.
“I will be delighted to”, I replied. As you know, with SIA (and perhaps other airlines too), the crew’s name tag displays their formal name. Nancy’s name tag was a typical 3-word Chinese name. I looked innocently at her chest, to note her full name.
“May I borrow a pen, please?”, I continued. While I had a pen somewhere among the work notes I was looking through earlier, I intentionally asked Nancy for a pen. Because I spotted she had one – clipped on her uniform, at her neck line. To be precise, the pen was “tucked in-between her breasts” inside her uniform.
Despite the dimmed lighting in the cabin, I could see Nancy blush, as my reading light was switched on.
“Yes, of course. But it’s a little bit warm”, she replied sheepishly. I controlled very hard to avoid laughing out loud, at her second sentence. Nancy coolly unclipped the pen and passed it to me. It was a slim Mont Blanc pen (not one of those bigger ‘Starwalker’ or ‘Meisterstuck’ models which are bigger).
“I will return it back to you”, I said, realizing that it was probably her personal item as opposed to the cheap, blue plastic pens that SIA issues. “Yes, it’s a little warm”, I added, without looking at her.
Just under an hour to landing, the captain announced “cabin crew, prepare for landing”. Nancy made her round once more, walking down the aisle she was assigned to, where I was located. As she approached my seat, I readied the feedback form and her pen. I also scribbled her name, and the number “9” on a piece of serviette.
Nancy came to me and I handed her the form, pen and serviette.
“May I have your number, please, Nancy?”, I said softly, making sure only she could hear my request. Without uttering a word, Nancy scribbled her mobile number on the serviette. My guess was correct, it started with “9” (and not “8”, the other “starting number” for Singapore mobiles). Nancy avoided eye contact but she had a sweet smile.
“Thank you”, I said softly again. “Thank you”, she reciprocated before moving on.
I took a photo of the serviette with her name and phone number. And kept the serviette in my pocket. Minutes later, Nancy was back to hand me my jacket. We were landing shortly.
“Thank you, and see you again”, I said to her. Nancy nodded and flashed her beautiful smile once more. “I hope to see you again soon, Mr. O2O”, she said sincerely, looking at me in the eye. I’m sure it’s a standard line the crew tell passengers.
I began to think, it would be nice to see Nancy again. Not in her uniform…..
(To be continued)
Quote:
Originally Posted by
wattonhenry
19 hours? To EWR? @
Online2Offline
- I also wish to be the slave of your corporation leh. Nice flights they put their slaves on.
Yes, bro, non-stop SIN to EWR. Some 20hr in total in the cabin if you included pre-take-off and post-landing taxiing to the gate…..
Modern corporate slavery is sometimes bundled with perks to keep the slaves motivated, to perform and deliver for the masters… and the cycle continues
(Continuation)
I began to think, it would be nice to see Nancy again. Not in her uniform…..
- - - - -
“Hello again, Mr. O2O”, a warm voice greeted me. I had just settle into my seat and started to remove my sneakers, swapping them for the in-flight slippers provided.
It was Nancy.
Call it co-incidence, fate, luck or whatever. After a short few days in New York, I was on the return flight - which happened to be manned by the same set of crew when I departed from Singapore. Owing to my preferred seat arrangements, I sat in the same seat. And Nancy was once again on duty in the same aisle. I was pleased with this unplanned, effortless outcome.
Like before, Nancy’s service was gold standard. She was also friendlier, so I took the opportunity to make small talk with her. That’s when I found out she had been flying for just under three years (at that time) and moved to Singapore from Malaysia after successfully being selected to be a Singapore Girl.
As our occasional little chats would last for three minutes or so, Nancy would squat gracefully next to my seat. I always had full eye contact with her, so she knew I was not looking beyond her (pretty) face i.e. lower down to her chest, though it was repeatedly tempting to do so. I believe this made her more comfortable with me, and indirectly, I began to gain her trust.
On one occasion, she literally knelt very close to me, to clear the newspapers that I had casually stacked aside after reading, when Nancy looked at me with her sparkling eyes.
“Is there anything else you need, or I can do for you, Mr. O2O?”, she asked. My evil mind was going “yes, how about a blow job?” since she was indeed well-positioned to administer one. But thankfully, the words that came out of my mouth was to the effect of “you work too hard, please have some rest”. From gaining her trust, I think I began to make myself more likeable to her
The 19-hour flight was tiring, especially adjusting back to the 12-hour time difference only days after re-setting my body clock. Upon landing, I was looking forward to meeting my (legit) masseur later that day, for some well-deserved body treatment. But there was something else I felt a pressing need to follow-up on.
I was in the car along ECP, on my way home, when I decided to text Nancy.
“I really appreciate your excellent service, Nancy. Shall we meet for coffee after you are well-rested?”, I complimented her with an open invitation. Less than five minutes later, Nancy replied. We agreed to meet for coffee two days later.
I arrived 10 minutes prior to our appointment time, and secured a corner table at the café. My seat provided a good view of incoming customers.
I almost could not recognize Nancy. She had let her long, flowing hair down (in-flight, it was tied-up into a bun); she wore a fitting white top with skinny jeans, accentuated by a pair of black high heels. Except for a matte lipstick finish, she did not apply any other make-up. She was naturally beautiful. Someone whom you would take a second, or even third look, if you chanced upon her in a cafe.
From the coffee session, I realized Nancy is a simpleton – I don’t mean it in a derogatory way – she is a small town girl who wanted to see the world, and maintained her humble ways, which sometimes can be misunderstood as not too worldly. Like some Malaysians I know, Nancy is friendly and unpretentious. And easily likeable.
What was interesting for me was, Nancy explained from the start that she does not meet passengers outside of work, and I was the first, though she had accompanied her fellow crew girlfriends for meals with passengers before.
Obviously, anyone can tell you what they want to, and it’s up to you to believe it or not. But it did not matter to me in Nancy’s case, as I viewed her as a new acquaintance, albeit an attractive looking one, and she is free to choose her friends. But I get it that her main point was, she does not go out with passengers… till now.
I asked Nancy why she made an exception and agreed to meet with me. In her simple explanation, she shared that her 5-year contract with SIA expires in about two years, and she wanted to start exploring options in case she was not offered an extension, or if she chooses not to fly anymore. She wants to learn and get opinions from “successful executives who seem like nice people” – and she felt that I belonged to that “category”.
“Mr. O2O, you are very friendly and approachable, I don’t feel intimidated by you. And -", she stopped abruptly. I looked at Nancy. “And?”, I prodded her. Nancy was blushing. She looked down on her glass and took a few sips of water.
“It’s OK if you are not comfortable”, I continued. It was no point getting into an awkward situation. “And by the way, just call me X, not Mr. O2O”, I said.
Nancy looked up and smiled shyly. “And I am comfortable with you. You’re not an old guy, who’s trying to date me…”. “Surely I am older than you, and I’ve asked you out for coffee”, I chuckled.
“No, no, it’s the way you look at me, or
not
look at me, the way you speak with me, the way you asked for – …”, she stopped abruptly again.
Under normal circumstances, I would have little patience for this kind of conversation. But there was something inexplicable about Nancy that stayed my patience and piqued my interest. Maybe it was her simpleton vibes, her sincerity and inevitably, her attractiveness in looks and physique.
Nancy sipped her latte and what appeared to me like she took a deep breathe. “I feel you are a nice person, and I like the way you asked for my phone number”, she said. “It felt very natural”, she concluded.
I knew at this juncture that, if I believed everything Nancy said, I could be a friendly mentor, one who should not have ulterior motives. Part of me - specifically the horny part of me - felt it would be a shame not to have an intimate relationship with the beauty seated across me, but objectively, I was inclined to assist if and where I can, after all, I have benefitted from others’ guidance in my career, too.
“Do you trust me, Nancy?” I said while extending my hand to her, with my palm facing upwards.
(To be continued)
Quote:
Originally Posted by
walls08
Did you take a sniff of the warm pen TS?
No lah, bro, a bit too kinky, don’t want to scare her…..
Quote:
Originally Posted by
fillerup
Never heard of anyone hooking up with IFS. Faster continue leh.
Coming up, bro ! (Good things must wait leh)
(Continuation)
“Do you trust me, Nancy?” I said while extending my hand to her, with my palm facing upwards.
- - - - -
Nancy put her palm on mine for a few seconds, and during this very brief time, I contemplated hard if I should just grasp her hand. I did not. Then Nancy made two soft taps on my palm with her fingers and withdrew her hand.
“I trust you”, she said.
For the rest of the time at the coffee meet-up, I asked about Nancy’s interests and if she would consider pursuing such interests as a career. It was a pleasant though uneventful first meet. We planned to meet again every few weeks if our respective schedules permitted.
We did not meet again until almost two months later, partly because of scheduling conflicts. Over coffee, Nancy asked about a specific industry she was interested in. While I am no expert in that specific industry, I offered a customer’s perspective. It was obvious that Nancy would have a long way to go, and would need to start from scratch, to pursue a career outside of flying or basic customer services. Prior to being a flight stewardess, her only experience was in office administration in a services company in KL.
“Are you free after coffee?”, Nancy asked me. It was a quiet afternoon early in the week, and I had some down time before a client dinner.
“Yes. What’s up?”, I asked Nancy.
“I need to buy a dress for a wedding dinner. And I want your opinion”, she said excitedly. So it turned out that one of her crew girlfriend was getting married in a couple of weeks, and she wanted to buy a new dress, capped at $200. It was a modest budget (and she knew it), and eventually Nancy found something she liked, within budget, at Zara.
Nancy tried on three different dresses, and each time she would come out of the changing room to show me, strutting towards me like a model. For the last dress she tried on, Nancy turned her back towards me.
“Help me zip it up all the way”, she requested, as she held on to her long hair. I did as requested. Nancy turned to face me. The black, one-piece black A-shape dress was fitting, perhaps a little tight waist up. She took a deep breath and looked into the mirror.
“Okay, this one!” she exclaimed. “And I know you like this one the best!”
The feeling of helping her zip up her dress (albeit it was only for a few inches), the scented smell of her hair and her neck, was enticing. And when she took a deep breath, I could see she was doing the “chest out, stomach in” action, an attractive pose which could be escalated into a sexy pose if we knew each other better…
I unzipped her dress again, just a little, before she went back to the changing room. I offered to buy her the dress but she politely declined. As we left the shop, I asked Nancy how she knew I liked the third dress the best.
“Your facial expression”, she giggled. “I can see what you like!” I gave her a surprised look in response to her reply. “Really? Oh dear…”, I said cheekily. She narrowed her eyes and smiled from one-side of her lips. I did not know what exactly that expression meant, but it felt like “don’t be naughty”.
“I would love to see you in this dress, complete with your dolled-up face and hair-do!”, I told Nancy.
“Can! But you have to pick me up after the wedding dinner”, she shot back. I enquired about the date and venue of the dinner, and fortunately, I was available be her driver that evening.
- - - - -
I left my car with the hotel valet where the wedding dinner was held. Nancy had texted me earlier, saying she would be leaving in the next 30-40 minutes. I was sitting at the hotel lobby, playing with my phone and looking occasionally at ladies who caught my attention, when a bevy of beauties walked across the lobby, including Nancy.
Without sounding bias, Nancy was the most attractive among the four or five ladies. She had a svelte figure with good height (about 1.72m with heels) and a sweet, smiley face illuminated by a professionally done make-up and permed long hair.
I stood up from the comfortable sofa and walked towards her slowly, as Nancy hugged her girlfriends goodnight. It was a reasonably early night, around 10.30pm. It worked out well as both Nancy and I had work flights, to separate destinations, the following afternoon.
It was also a good call to leave the car with the valet, who had parked it right in front of the hotel. As with most wedding receptions, the elevators to the car park and subsequent queue to exit the carpark can be more than a little wait.
I told the valet not to bother driving the car to me. I tipped him, took the key, and walked Nancy just 10 metres to the car. We could hear one of her girlfriends (in the nearby taxi stand) call out “have a nice night, Nancy” in a somewhat double-meaning, but presumably well-meaning tone.
As a gentleman should, I opened the door for Nancy. It was her first time in my car. Nancy gracefully tucked her long legs in. As we drove out of the hotel into the main street, Nancy said, “can we stop for a moment?”. I pulled the car aside and switched on the hazard lights.
“Are you alright, Nancy?”, I asked, hoping she did not need to puke.
“I am so full!” Nancy unbuckled her seat belt and turned her back at me. “Unzip a bit, can?”, she asked. I unzipped her dress just a little. “More, please”, Nancy said. I was only too happy to oblige. I had now unzipped almost one-third of her dress from the back.
Nancy turned to sit snugly in my car and put on the seat belt once more. I noticed she was adjusting her long legs uncomfortably. “You can push the seat back. Second button on the left side of the seat, it’s electronic”, I suggested. (Earlier that day, my colleague and I drove out for lunch. As my colleague is a small-built lady, she had adjusted the seat forward).
Nancy pushed the wrong button and her seat reclined. “I’ll help you”, I said.
With no ill intentions, I went towards Nancy’s seat, cutting across her seating space, stretched my hand and found the correct button which pushed her seat back. Concurrently, Nancy pressed the button to put her seatback upright.
The stars must have aligned. As Nancy’s seat became upright, her breast brushed against my left arm. She pretended as if nothing happened and simply held on to her handbag resting on her thighs, as she gratefully stretched her long legs.
Nancy smelt like a cocktail of red wine, champagne and perfume. I wouldn’t say it’s a smell I like, but somehow it made me excited.
(To be continued)
(Continuation)
The stars must have aligned. As Nancy’s seat became upright, her breast brushed against my left arm. She pretended as if nothing happened and simply held on to her handbag resting on her thighs, as she gratefully stretched her long legs.
Nancy smelt like a cocktail of red wine, champagne and perfume. I wouldn’t say it’s a smell I like, but somehow it made me excited.
- - - - -
“You’re beautiful!”, I complimented Nancy as we drove off.
“Thank you, X. And thank you for sending me back”, Nancy said.
“I hope you are much more comfortable now”, I checked on Nancy as we cruised along ECP.
“Oh yes. And I don’t mean anything else when I asked you to unzip my dress… I can’t wait to get out of this dress, I ate so much”, she explained.
“No, no, it’s absolutely fine”, I reassured Nancy. “And sorry about just now”, I continued.
“What?”, Nancy asked.
“I accidently touched you”, I owned up. I feel it’s always better to be upfront.
“Aiyah, accidentally, it’s OK”, she brushed it off.
From Marina Square area, it took only 20min at night to reach Nancy’s flat in Tampines. Luckily, I was able to find a non-resident’s parking lot easily.
“I will see that you are home safely”, I tested the waters as I switched off the car engine.
“Thank you, X. You’re so sweet”, Nancy replied tacitly, agreeing that I can, or should, send her upstairs to her flat.
“Wait”, I told Nancy after we walked a few steps away from the car. I pulled the zip of her dress upwards, so it did not look like she was in a state of undress.
To my pleasant surprise, Nancy took my hand and led the way. “This way”, she said, as she cut across the void deck to the elevator. It was not very late, about 11pm, but the estate was quiet, no one was hanging around the void deck or car park.
Arriving at her floor, Nancy stepped out of the elevator first. My intention was to see her off at her door, then I will make my way home.
“You want to use the wash room? It’s at least half-an-hour drive back, right?”, Nancy asked, as she opened her handbag to take the keys to the gate/front door.
Nancy’s offer (to use the toilet) did not entirely surprise me. It almost felt like being on a flight, where you may want to use the toilet before the plane starts its descend (and you can’t use the toilets then). Maybe Nancy would be even friendlier inside the flat?
“Oh, is that OK? I was thinking of using the Esso station toilet nearby”, I said.
“Come in, my toilet is much cleaner!”, Nancy replied promptly as she pushed open the door into the flat. She switched on the lights and I saw a spartan but clean living room. It was an old 3-room HDB flat.
“Green tea?”, she offered, remembering that I like my green tea when I was on her flight.
“Yes, please”, I readily agreed. It seemed like Nancy was happy to have me around, for a cup of tea at the very least. I went into the bathroom and took a pee, and wet my face to refresh. For sure, it was much cleaner and comfortable than a gas station toilet. And a distinctively more “homely” feel – there was a pail with several pieces of panties and bras inside…..
Nancy had already prepared a piping hot cup of green tea when I returned to the living room. Moments later, Nancy emerged from one of the two bedrooms. She was holding what looked like a t-shirt and sports shorts.
“I need to get out of this dress, wait a while, ok?”, she said and walked into the bathroom without waiting for my reply. As the tea was very hot, I took a magazine from the coffee table and started flipping through the pages randomly, waiting for my drink to cool down. At the same time, I could hear water splattering from the bathroom. Nancy was taking a shower.
I had drank about half the cup of tea when Nancy came out of the bathroom. She wore a loose grey t-shirt which covered most of her black shorts. She had tied up her hair and removed her make-up. She was a natural beauty.
“Where’s your room mate?”, I asked her casually. “She’s coming back tomorrow from Hong Kong”, she replied. I assumed her room mate was a fellow crew member.
Nancy then took her phone and sat next to me, showing me the pictures from the wedding dinner earlier. We sat together, closely, on the sofa, looking at the various pictures. Unconsciously, we were making body contact. I found my right arm resting against the left side of her body as she leaned towards me to scroll the pictures on her phone.
I tried very hard to focus on the pictures, but my eyes inevitably strayed to look at her exposed thighs, downwards to her shapely, leggy limbs. At the same time, I sensed a growing bulge in my jeans. I was developing a hard-on as Nancy opened another album on her phone to show me pictures of herself when she first joined the airline. Her side boob was rubbing against my arm through her thin t-shirt.
It was obvious Nancy was cherishing my presence. I really wanted to feel her smooth, sexy legs. And maybe a little more…
(To be continued)
Quote:
Originally Posted by
wattonhenry
The updates left us wanting more leh. Please come back Online2Offline.
Hey, bro! Nice timing, I just had time to write…. coming up!