How it all started
My husband and I have a very sexual relationship (we don't include other people though). The only boundary we have set, so far, is that no one else is to be included. However, how crazy were both are I'm sure one of us will suggest something and the other will "Hell no! I'm not doing that." Adam and I have been married for ten years when this blog is written and have a very healthy sexual relationship because we know how important it is to prioritize sex in marriage; we both make sure that the other one is pleased, so neither one of us feels like we are giving more than we should be receiving.
DISCLAIMER: Before you continue indulging in my memoir, if you are a prude or uptight, then stop reading this. Go back to cleaning your house while tending to your crying Ivy League prodigies. Actually, just don't read any of my blogs because you will not like them, or worse, you will. But for those of you who read my blogs regularly, call me, because we should be friends.
For the past ten years, Adam has repeatedly told me how his biggest sexual fantasy is to join the "Mile High Club". Every time we were on an airplane and I got up to use the restroom, he would say, "Want some company?" Now, I have always been the type of person who is scared to death of breaking rules, so you can see why my immediate response has always been, "no, I'm good." It wasn't the fact that in-flight bathrooms, or any bathrooms for that matter, are public germ infested cubicles that have kept me from saying "hell yeah!", but the thought of getting caught. You can imagine how happy I was to hear that it is now considered a felony to have "sexy time" on a public aircraft. They call it "Indecent Exposure". Okay, let's be real ladies, someone's wife started that nickname to avoid those tiny, not-so-soundproof, airplane closets; and my hat is off to her!
The Perfect Plan
I knew his birthday was coming up, and it wasn't just any birthday, it was his BIG four-oh; and of course it had to be in Vegas. Considering that I severely lack in the "Gift giving" department and there are only so many ways you can give good birthday head, I knew that this year had to be THE year that I gave him the gift he would never forget. So I started thinking, Mile High... AND if anyone was going to have a plane that specializes in having airborne sex, it was going to be Las Vegas. Sure enough, with some help from my very sneaky friends, I found "The Love Cloud."
Andy, the owner and pilot of "The Love Cloud," helps couples fulfill their biggest fantasies by flying them around in a private sex-machine. The red velvet decor is just cheesy enough to blend in with Vegas but stands out among the standard jets' of its size. My immediate thought to a private aircraft rented for that specific purpose was, "Eww gross! Is it clean?" Well yes, Andy reassured me that he has a professional cleaning crew come in after each couple does their version of nasty.
At this point, Adam's big day was only a few days away and I didn't care how much it would cost because I knew that I had to do this for him and it had to be now. I mean seriously, how often does your husband turn 40, and you find a private plane that allows you to fuck, above the city you're celebrating in? I wanted our moment to be during the sunset while fly-fucking over the Vegas strip, so I called Andy right away and luckily he was able to squeeze us into his surprisingly busy schedule; I guess there are more kinky couples out there than I expected.
The Take Off
As we took off, Adam turned on his GoPro camera; we figured we only had 45 minutes so there was no time to waste. I peeled out of my pants, then unbuttoned his. He filmed us going up while I went down. At 5,280ft above Las Vegas, Andy announced over the speaker that we were in the clear. We ripped off our seat belts and jumped into the "velvety love bed." We were like two teenagers having sex for the first time; giggling and not knowing what to do, yet wanting to do everything at the same time. It was kind of like having sex on a waterbed because every time the plane hit an air pocket, we would lose our rhythm or in some cases, gain a new one. Once we were finished, we sat naked in our seats and held hands while watching the gorgeous view from the windows. When we descended, Andy presented us with a certificate that we became official members of the "Mile High Club"; now Adam can shut the fuck up and I can pee in peace on future flights.
Tennille Melcher
Photographer & CEO