We arrived in the sumptuous lobby of the hotel attached to the condo tower where we were staying and saw our dinner and “dessert” companion already there. Daniel Sung was a tall lanky-muscled exotically handsome twenty-something Asian flight attendant who’d caught us renewing our Mile-High Club membership on the long connecting flight from Dallas to Honolulu. He’d also noticed later in the flight when my husband had come around and sat on my lay-flat seat and had jacked me off. Not sure which made Daniel offer himself to us; he gave me his card after the jack-off caper but he was quite “friendly” after the lavatory incident earlier.Daniel had looked good enough to eat in his flight attendant uniform; he’d obviously had the shirt tailored to hug the contour of his v-shaped upper body and the sleeves were tight across impressive biceps. But the flight attendant was magnificent in a shorter-than-short-sleeved white polo that showed every one of his 16 abs and similarly form-fitting stylishly short-inseam stretch black jeans showing-off a perfectly-sized bubble butt and long muscular thighs. Even his slip-in checker-board black and white Vans looked sexy.Kent whistled low for just us. “Can we postpone dinner?” he asked me.“Fast food; compromise!” I came up with.As we crossed the lobby and
