Add some sizzle to your mile high club fun

April 2, 2009

These are available from Milehighkit.com – fun!

Mile High Kit

Mile High Tease: Mobile Intimacy Kit
Size Matters. Compact and discreet, the Tease fits perfectly into a coat pocket or clutch. Includes a whisper-quiet massager, lubricant, 2 condoms, and lipstick mirror.

Mile High Kit

Mile High Seduce: Mobile Intimacy Kit
The Pack Light, Pet Heavy. Travel-ready, the Seduce is carry-on safe and packed with erotic essentials. Passion in two servings:
Appetizer: Scented cloths, cinnamon breath mints, pocket mirror, blindfold, and “do not disturb” door hanger.
Main course: Bottles of lubricant and massage oil, feather tickler, whisper-quiet massager, pleasure ring, and three condoms.

Advertisements

Interview with The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories contributor Cheyenne Blue

April 1, 2009

What was your inspiration for your story in The Mile High Club?

My story, “Wing Walker” was inspired by a friend from some years back whose boyfriend was a stunt pilot. He traveled to air shows around the UK and Europe in his biplane. At one point, he was looking for someone willing to train as a wing walker. I was very, very tempted despite the fact that I am an absolute chicken with heights. I went along to the airfield with them, and while it cemented that fact that my feet are better kept on the ground, it was an awesome thing to watch. And then I read Rachel’s call for submissions for The Mile High Club and I’m afraid I took sex ON a plane rather literally.

Why do you think The Mile High Club has such a mystique?

It’s a bold and brazen statement of your naughtiness. Pretty much everyone knows what you’re doing. After all, why else would two people willingly go into a cramped airplane toilet together? And half of the plane have probably been listening to your pleasure as they line up outside waiting for the lock to slide over to “vacant”. And however subtle you think you’re being with that carefully positioned blanket, you can bet the flight attendants have you pegged. You need to be bold and brassy about it, and let’s face it, not all of us have the guts for that. There’s no way to join the Mile High Club discreetly, not unless you’re Barack Obama in Air Force One with a whole spacious plane to romp in, and only the Secret Service looking discreetly out of the window. Hmmmm, now that’s an idea for a story…

Do you have any tips for people looking to join The Mile High Club, whether from personal experience, observation or imagination?

Move to Denver? Somehow that mile-high city doesn’t count for this. So, wear a skirt. Smile sweetly when security pulls out your mini-vibe from your carry-on baggage. Select the two seats at the back of the airbus, so that you don’t have an inadvertent threesome with the person in the third seat. Wiggle your way onto Air Force One.

What celebrity would you most want to join The Mile High Club with and why?

Sexy tennis players Rafael Nadal and Amélie Mauresmo come to mind. Can I have both of them? At once? And now I’ve got Air Force One into my head, I’ll add Barack and Michelle Obama.

Are there any specific planes or airports you find particularly sexy?

Right now, I’m having major fantasies involving Air Force One and a certain president, but I have to say that normally planes don’t do much for me. That’s probably why I set my story “Wing Walker” ON a plane, out in the freedom of the cold open air, rather than in an air-conditioned tin can.

We all know that in real life, plane travel is often not very sexy at all. What’s your best piece of advice on how to make plane travel as relaxing as possible?

Assuming you’re traveling Cattle Class, and can’t sashay your way into an upgrade, my patented method for making plane journeys fly by, is white wine, loose clothing, no shoes, toothbrush and toothpaste for those long haul flights, and of course a good book. Personally, I love long haul flights, and consider them prime story-writing time. And the expression of the person in the next seat as they read what I’ve written over my shoulder? Priceless.

What’s next for you?

I’m eyeing Australia again, and expect to be living back there by the end of the year. Writing wise, right this second I have twitchy fingers to write about Air Force One. I’m also taking second (Third? Fourth?) looks at some unfinished stories that stalled for various reasons, and I’m working on a novel with bisexual themes. My website http://www.cheyenneblue.com has details.

Below is an excerpt from Cheyenne Blue’s story “Wing Walker.” Read the entire story in The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories.

The conversations go something like this:

“I’m a wing walker,” I say, demurely twiddling my glass of chardonnay.

“Oh?” he says, and his eyes flick over me dismissively, no doubt picturing me in thick overalls wielding an industrial hose of airplane deicer at DIA. “You don’t look the maintenance type.”

“I’m not,” I say. “I wear a catsuit, not a boilersuit, and I dance on the wing of the plane as it flies along.”

That always gets their attention, at the very least a double take, while they decide if I’m serious or not. And if they decide I am, then I have their interest for as long as I want it.

Wing walking goes something like this:

I dress warmly—a layer of wicking thermals because it’s colder than the moon out there, with the wind whipping away every thought of warmth; then the catsuit. It’s a patriotic red, white and blue, a line of stars down the thigh, diagonal stripes over the torso. Patriotism goes down well with the air-show crowds. I wear goggles against the wind, soft slippers on my feet so I don’t harm the fabric of the wing.

Bob is our pilot, Buttercup is our plane. Bob is sixty-eight and has a steady hand on the controls. Buttercup is also sixty-eight and she’s a Boeing Stearman biplane, a game old girl painted as sunny as her name. Bob and her, they have a long history together. I often think they’ll go together in a burst of flame on a hillside. I just hope I’m not on the wing at the time.

We take off from a back strip, away from the crowds. I’m already on the upper wing in my safety harness, securely fastened to the upright struts that protrude from the center of the plane’s structure. Surely you didn’t think I’d do this without a harness? Some people used to, but they tended to have short careers.

We circle the air show once, up high. We’ll talk a little on the radio. Bob worries how long he can keep doing this. The maintenance on the old girl gets harder every year. Then we get the signal to go and we come in fast and low. I’ll be in a pose: arm extended gracefully, my long hair streaming behind me like Boadicea the warrior queen. Or Xena the warrior princessæI guess more people have heard of her. One leg cocked up, I’ll hold the pose and wave to the crowd as Bob takes us up in a hard spiral. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, Bob will twirl with Buttercup, looping the loop, flying upside down, flipping her from side to side, always within sight of the crowds, of course. And me? I’ll be up there, posing, slow-motion dancing, sometimes doing a handstand, although Bob has to keep her totally steady for that one, so I only do that when he’s been dry for a few days. The wind pummels the breath from my body, and moving a limb is like pushing against cement. The roar of the air and the rumble and creak of the plane beneath my feet fill my head. There’s a crowd? I honestly couldn’t tell you. It’s just me and Buttercup and Bob, flying in our little space-time continuum.

Interview with The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories contributor Donna George Storey

March 31, 2009


Donna George Storey, author of “Nasty Little Habit”

What was your inspiration for your story in The Mile High Club?

In my story “Nasty Little Habit,” I wanted to set up an airplane seduction that could easily happen in my real life. Now you may be wondering if I’ve masturbated on a trans-Atlantic flight under the blanket? I’m afraid I have to take the Fifth on that one…

I will confess that like my narrator, I find the close contact with so many anonymous men on an airplane very provocative. The writer in me wants to slip inside their lives to know their secrets even for just a few moments. As in the story, I’ve also sat next to men who kept glancing over clearly hoping to chat, but since I usually have a great book I want to read, I’d ignore them as best I could. On the other hand, when I did relent, I enjoyed the strange intimacy with a partner chosen by the seat assignment computer. It makes me realize we’re all on the same journey, at least for a time. And why not have fun along the way?

Why do you think The Mile High Club has such a mystique?

Good sex whisks us away from ordinary life to another realm, a sort of suspended state existing beyond the rules we usually follow. Witness for example all the control freaks, men or women, who love to be dominated in bed, just as Matt Conklin’s narrator observes in “Wild Child.” Airplane travel is like sex. We are literally suspended in air, able to take on a temporary new identity. We’re brushing up against strangers we’d otherwise never meet, our senses are heightened by the excitement and novelty. Plus, there’s always that whiff of danger that each ride might be our last. Since we’re all thinking sexy thoughts anyway, we’re bound to be curious about the brave few who can take it one step further to actually realizing our collective fantasy.

Do you have any tips for people looking to join The Mile High Club, whether from personal experience, observation or imagination?

On our many flights to Japan, my husband and I occasionally lucked out and got the entire middle bank of seats on a 747 to ourselves. We’d put up the arm rests and stretch out, his head on one end, mine on the other, legs entwined. Sometimes we’d spoon together and I could feel his hard-on pushing against my ass, cruelly separated by our clothes. Occasionally a flight attendant would glance at us, but that’s back before I wrote erotica and we reined in our improper urges. Now that transgressive sex is very much on my mind for professional reasons, I can appreciate the possibilities that situation presents more fully.

For a woman, masturbating under the blankets is very doable. As a responsible professional, I confirmed the logistics on my last flight to Japan recently. However, practically speaking, to move up to platinum membership in the Mile High Club with intercourse in the restroom, I’d definitely need some serious foreplay in the seats to overcome the ick factor. Of course, in the right mood, squalor can be a turn-on all its own.

What celebrity would you most want to join The Mile High Club with and why?

Jon Stewart. He’s smart and funny and he looks a bit like my grandfather. Plus, I think he has enough of a prurient streak he’d really appreciate a good roll on the seats.

Are there any specific planes or airports you find particularly sexy?

Pittsburgh International Airport is definitely my first love. I took my maiden flight from Pittsburgh to Washington, D.C. when I was eight. It lasted all but forty-minutes, but they served an elegant breakfast on china plates: two huge Danishes, fresh melon, orange juice in a real glass.

The parking lot of the Pittsburgh Airport was where I became enchanted with the perfume of jet fuel on the breeze, the fragrance of foreign adventure. The waiting area is where I saw an infomercial on California made by TWA that made me yearn to live in that golden land someday. (Dreams do come true–I’ve been a California girl for years now, although of course TWA has long passed into history.) And the Pittsburgh Airport is where the man who took my virginity–actually I sort of shoved it at him and said “here”–treated me to breakfast one very early July morning. Driving out to the airport to have eggs and toast and watch the planes take off is an time-honored romantic tradition in the City of Steel.

We all know that in real life, plane travel is often not very sexy at all. What’s your best piece of advice on how to make plane travel as relaxing as possible?

Long flights to Europe or Asia are the real challenge. Drink lots of plain water, but no alcohol. Take off your shoes and wear travel socks (except to the restroom—those floors are sticky) to avoid swollen, aching feet. Blow-up neck pillows are key for restful sleep, and try to get some or the jet lag will hammer you. Plus, always snag a blanket, even if you don’t plan to masturbate!

What’s next for you?

I’m easing up on the promotion of my first dirty book, Amorous Woman (the semi-autobiographical tale of an American woman’s love affair with Japan), to start work on a new novel, which will be a journey into America’s erotic past. The research has been lots of fun. I’m also starting up a collection of podcasts of my work, which you can find on the Aural Pleasures page of my website.

Below is an excerpt from Donna George Storey’s “Nasty Little Habit.” Read the entire story in
The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories.

Today’s the day I’ll break my nasty little habit once and for all.

That’s what I tell myself as I shuffle on to the London-bound plane with the other Premiere Executives. I’m the only woman in the bunch, which isn’t unusual. Before I decided to change my ways, the closeness of so many anonymous male bodies was the first thing to get me in the mood for later misbehavior. I’d imagine them gathered around me as I pleasured myself, cocks in hand, ready to shoot their loads all over me until every inch of my flesh glistened like a freshly glazed doughnut.

Today, however, I resolutely wipe such thoughts from my mind as I hurry through the business class cabin—no upgrade this time, alas—and silently repeat my vow.

I will not masturbate under the blanket on this flight.

I murmur it, under my breath, as I slip my suitcase into the overhead bin.

I will not masturbate under the blanket on this flight.

Pulling my book from my shoulder bag, I settle into seat 33B. Call me a masochist, but I specifically requested a center seat rather than my usual window. Breaking bad habits always requires a certain amount of discomfort, and it will be that much harder to jam my hand down my pants with a vigilant stranger on either side.

I pick up the plastic-wrapped blanket from my chair and push it under the seat in front of me, well out of temptation’s way. It’ll make for a chilly night, but I can hardly masturbate under the blanket if I have no blanket, can I?

“Excuse me.”

It’s a male voice, obviously the occupant of 33A. I don’t even look his way as I rise and step into the aisle to let him pass…

Read the rest of the story in The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories.

You may also enjoy Donna George Storey’s hotel sex erotica interview and her Do Not Disturb guest post, “Love Hotel Madness.”

Mile High Club on film in “Women in Trouble”

March 31, 2009

clip via Film School Rejects (if it doesn’t show up, which it doesn’t seem to be, click through to watch)

Variety reports:

And now for something completely different: From Sebastian Gutierrez, scripter of “Gothika” and “Snakes on a Plane,” comes “Women in Trouble,” a wildly uneven but compulsively watchable mix of high camp and grand passions, soap opera and softcore sex. Very much in the deliriously lewd style of Pedro Almodovar — who has co-written unproduced scripts with Gutierrez, and gets a shout-out in the closing credits — this exuberantly uninhibited indie has the anything-goes spirit of something tossed off in a single burst of collaborative energy. Auds and critics will have mixed reactions, but theatrical and homevid potential is undeniable…

Standouts among the ensemble cast include Sarah Clarke as a therapist driven to drink by her cheating husband (Simon Baker), Marley Shelton as a starstruck flight attendant who courts disaster while joining the Mile High Club, and Isabella Gutierrez (the writer-director’s daughter) as a shrewd adolescent who’s more level-headed than many of the adults around her.

And from Film School Rejects:

The film essentially tells the story of ten seemingly desperate women, all with their own unique sets of problems, many of whom collide into each other on their journey through one incredibly odd day. There is a world famous porn star named Electra Luxx (Carla Gugino), who has just found out that she is pregnant with the child of a wild British drummer — brought to life by an awesome performance from Josh Brolin. And just as she is finding out this news, her future baby daddy is attempting to woo a sexy flight attendant (Marley Shelton) as he returns from what sounds like a busted tour with his band.

Mile High Club roller derby team!

March 30, 2009

Logo of roller derby team The Mile High Club

I love that there’s a Denver roller derby team called The Mile High Club!

Interview with The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories contributor Bill Kte’pi

March 30, 2009

What was your inspiration for your story in The Mile High Club?

I started writing erotica because I was having trouble with the sex scenes in a novel that had a sex-heavy subplot, and I figured writing about sex on its own canvas would be the best practice — like taking an afternoon to practice parallel parking before the driving exam. I went through a lot of “skill drills” like that, the simplest possible scenarios, just to write about the mechanics of sex itself and find the language I was comfortable with, before starting to actually write stories.

Once I did, I went through a prolific phase of the kind I hit sometimes, where I write a handful, a couple handfuls, of stories that have a lot in common while I work something out. Sometimes you have to go through a lot of naked apes to see what works, what you like, in order to let humans evolve from the muck you’ve laid out before you. You don’t settle for the first thing to climb down from the trees.

In this case, what I liked was the second-person narration and the present tense. That’s what I started with. The immediacy and intimacy of that. It’s a little wrong. Stories told that way can make you a little uncomfortable, they’re a little presumptuous. Setting it on an airplane — both public and confined — followed from that, and so did the anonymity of the characters, as a contrast to that intimacy.

Why do you think The Mile High Club has such a mystique?

An airplane is a public space — well, usually, and in my story — but at the same time, it’s one you can’t leave. It’s a rare space, too. It’s a technological privilege to be able to occupy that space. There’s already something ballsy about being up there, no matter what you’re up to.

Do you have any tips for people looking to join The Mile High Club, whether from personal experience, observation or imagination?

Those bathrooms are smaller than they look in the movies.

What celebrity would you most want to join The Mile High Club with and why?

Natalie Wood, around 1969 — the year Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice came out. She looks amazing in that. Plus, she was barely over 5 feet tall. Like I said, those bathrooms are small.

Are there any specific planes or airports you find particularly sexy?

Sadly, none come to mind.

We all know that in real life, plane travel is often not very sexy at all. What’s your best piece of advice on how to make plane travel as relaxing as possible?

Vicodin, melatonin, and never check your luggage.

What’s next for you?

I have a story in your upcoming spanking anthology that I’m very happy with, and a number of ideas, some of which will bloom into things that make a few people wet, a few people hard.

Bill Kte’pi’s story “34B” is the opener to The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories. I always start my books with what I think is the strongest story, and his is so hot and twisted and perfect, it was fitting to kick the book off with a bang! Below is a short excerpt; buy the book to read the entire story and find out what happens next.

SWF seeks adventure. 34, attractive, strong, professional, healthy, happy. Seeking that missing piece and a man to take control. Tell me what you have to offer.

Every time the car hit one of those speed bumps on Airline Highway, you think about turning around. This is thrilling, yes–but stupid, too. Stupid to spend this kind of money over a man you’ve never met.

Nancy–be on the flight from Baltimore to Portland: I’ve pasted the itinerary at the bottom of this email. Buy a ticket for seat 34B. I’ll reserve 34C. I’m buying two tickets; I’ll leave C empty until it’s time.

Waiting in line for your ticket, waiting to board, you look at the men around you, even though you know he isn’t one of them. He’ll board the second flight, when you switch planes in Baltimore. You don’t know where he’s from. He doesn’t know where you’re from.

As you go through security, you half hope you’re stopped for something, that the emery board in your purse disqualifies you from air travel, that overzealous air marshals decide you’re a threat to national securit–and you get sent home to your matching plates and new stereo and warm safe bed.

You fidget on the plane to Baltimore, unable to concentrate on the paperback you brought in your purse. You glance down at your lap to see if anyone can tell you’re not wearing panties. Baltimore is a forty-seven-minute layover that seems to stretch on for hours.

You board the second plane.

34B–it sounds like a bra size. You don’t even know his name. You gave yoursæyour real name, though he may assume otherwise–but he never offered his and you didn’t want to ask and have him say no. You didn’t want to establish his right to tell you no that quickly.

This is stupid. But it’s safe, isn’t it?

He pointed that out when you hinted at your uncertainty a month ago: It’s an airplane. What is it you think I can do without you letting me do it?

Gorgeous gondolas in Abu Dhabi

March 27, 2009

gondolas!

From Hotel Chatter:

Due to open later this year with 301 guest rooms and suites, the Traders (under the Shangri-La umbrella of hotels) is a small step down from the over-the-top opulence and high pricing of the Shangri-La, but it will nonetheless have access to all of the complex’s amenities.

To reach any of the Qaryat Al Beri attractions, which include an Arabic souk, numerous swimming pools, CHI Spa at Shangri-La and Chinese, Vietnamese and French restaurants, you’ll have to hop into either a club car or a short abra (Arabic gondola) for a ride on the waterway. Reminds you of Vegas’ Venetian Hotel, doesn’t it?

So long as they don’t force the gondoliers to sing and take our picture for tips, then we’re totally cool with gondolas appearing outside of Venice and Vegas, especially if they’re to be used as actual transportation.

Interview with The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories contributor Sommer Marsden

March 27, 2009

What was your inspiration for your story in The Mile High Club?

Jamie Lee Curtis. No. Seriously. She is my everlasting and persistent girl crush. I think I’ve fallen even harder for her as she ages. She does the gray cropped sexy hair very well. Okay, so inspiration was Jamie Lee Curtis *and* an agonizingly long flight I had one time from LAX to BWI. Fifteen thousand stopovers (not quite), one Australian woman, many Cokes, ten thousand cigarettes (on stopovers) and a Stephen King novel later…I was home.

Why do you think The Mile High Club has such a mystique?

It’s sort of a “I Kissed the Blarney Stone!” kind of thing, I think. Once people know it’s possible to get away with, everybody wants in. Plus all those rumors about altitude enhanced orgasms and whatnot. Who could resist?

Do you have any tips for people looking to join The Mile High Club, whether from personal experience, observation or imagination??

Try to be quiet. Don’t laugh too much. Most certainly do not do a full-on porn star orgasm. I’m not really sure. I’m hoping to get a few tips from the book!

What celebrity would you most want to join The Mile High Club with and why?

Um…Jamie Lee Curtis? But don’t tell her.

Are there any specific planes or airports you find particularly sexy?

Not so much. But I do find those gangways sexy. I can picture getting hot and heavy in a gangway right before the door to board.

We all know that in real life, plane travel is often not very sexy at all. What’s your best piece of advice on how to make plane travel as relaxing as possible?

Drink. Heavily. Fine, fine. If you don’t want to drink heavily, pack yourself a nice emergency kit of things you love, a really good book, a ‘slipper book’ (a well loved, beat up, often read tome) in case that book sucks, and a few things you normally don’t allow yourself. Like me, I try not to eat the whole roll of Sprees. But if I have to fly, I might pack two rolls for the flight. But that could just be my oral fixation talking.

What’s next for you?

Lucky 13: Thirteen Tales of Getting Lucky due out from eXcessica and a whole slew of other fun stuff. That and another cup of coffee.

Do you have anything else to add about The Mile High Club?

The actual club? I would like to join, please. The book? I love that cover. It makes me…want to grab the man and go fly somewhere. Anywhere. Right now.

Here’s an excerpt from Sommer Marsden’s story “The Scream Queen” from The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories.

“You don’t like to fly?” Her breath was hot along my neck and for a moment I forgot about the turbulence and just wanted to kiss her.

“Not so much. Not a big fan, actually. But business is business and I’m flying out to scout a location in New York and…” I shrugged.

“My hometown.” She said the words right against my earlobe and the vibration meandered down my belly to my pussy. I shifted in the cramped airplane seat and felt the seat belt rub my belly in a not unpleasant way.

I cleared my throat and reminded myself who this woman was. Jannie Blair was not interested in me. I was suffering from delusions of grandeur. She was one of the premier slasher sirens. She had screamed with the best of them and had made blood and terror sexy. She had thoroughly earned her name, the Scream Queen. I shifted. “Have you been to Rico’s? That’s what I’m looking at. We’re shooting a huge vampire smack down in Rico’s. The stonework and gargoyles are amazing. At least from the photos I’ve seen.”

“They are.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she leaned in and nipped my ear. I gave a little cry and her hand moved just a fraction of an inch higher on my leg.

“Oh. Good. I…” I what? I had no idea. My brain had short-circuited and my body had hijacked all sensation. My heart was banging restlessly and my pulse jumped in my neck. I shook my head because I felt dizzy and the plane jumped, making it that much worse.

“I like your skirt. It’s what a real woman would wear,” she said. Her breath smelled like chocolate.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh. Don’t be.” She laughed at her own joke and the crow’s feet at the corners of her big blue eyes deepened. There was something sexy about how they made her bright blue eyes even brighter. “What I mean is, I watch all these professional women walking around dressed like teenagers. This is beyond sexy, this skirt. And it shows off your hips.”

Yeah. My hips. I wasn’t too crazy about my hips. But I was starting to think the whole shower scene had been fairly accurate. She was flirting with me. “Thanks. Thank you.” Then before I could still my tongue, I blurted, “I have to pee.”

Read the rest of “The Scream Queen” in The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories.

Catch more of Sommer’s writing at her blog Smut Girl.

MTA Service Specialists can service me any time!

March 26, 2009

<MTA Service Specialists
photo of the MTA Service Specialists by Zandy Mangold (via Staten-Island Real-Time News

No, this isn’t about a plane, or the mile high club, but a) the outfits are hot, b) the campaign is cheeky, and c) the MTA fare hikes, especially combined with what can only be called lackluster service, are absolutely ridiculous. I love this sexy art protest…it only would’ve been better if they were passing out cupcakes!

Who are the MTA Service Specialists? I’ll let them tell you:

Their names (via MySpace) are:

Kae Burke

Kiki Valentine

Lauren Larken

and Anya Sapozhnikova

From The New York Daily News:

The MTA has found yet another way to make riding the subways more miserable.

On top of fare hikes and service cuts, it’s now dumping on “MTA service specialists,” four women who voluntarily ride the rails to help straphangers get around quicker and happier.

Why?

The Metropolitan Transportation Authority thinks the smiling women in their 1940s-style stewardess uniforms are giving riders the idea that the MTA is actually improving service, said specialist Kiki Valentine.

MTA lawyers filed a cease-and-desist order Tuesday giving the volunteers 72 hours to remove a video and make other changes on their Web site, http://www.mtaservice.org, which the MTA says makes unfair use of the agency’s “intellectual property.”

And they have a video:

And another photo by Zandy Mangold, just because I couldn’t resist:

Redbook says: Go ahead and join the Mile High Club!

March 24, 2009

According to Redbook, sex on a plane is a go, as long as you’re careful:

The Mile-High Club: Should you become a member?
It’s no shock that teeny-tiny airplane bathrooms aren’t optimal for lovemaking — they hardly accommodate one body, let alone two. For maximum maneuverability, stand with one leg on the toilet with your man embracing you from behind. “And discretion is key,” adds Gardos. “Plan it so that one of you enters the bathroom a couple minutes before the other: Quickies are ideal.” According to JetBlue Airways spokesperson Brandon Hamm, flight attendants use their discretion with onboard hookups, usually asking passengers to discontinue behaviors that might make others uncomfortable. So go ahead and risk it, but be sneaky or prepare to be told to return to your seats and buckle up!