5 comments/ 49685 views/ 8 favorites Fly Girl By: PygmyCoho The weather warmed with the oncoming spring. Steve worked as an instructor at a small flight school. He used to be a good instructor, but took a hiatus and only recently returned to the profession. He could make the technical sound simple, was patient and rarely got ruffled. Now he had a steady schedule of students, enjoyed himself, and found the process as fulfilling as ever. The pay was lousy, but the rewards made up for it. He lived on the airport, making due in a small block building. Simple and convenient, it suited his new, streamlined lifestyle as he tried "to find himself." It could get a little lonely, but relationships seemed troublesome for him. Oh, well, he thought, it's okay for now. He sighed. Besides, it's not like some great girl is just gonna drop from heaven. Steve paused at the door of the terminal building and searched the empty northern sky. "Any word, yet?" he asked as he entered to lobby. "Not yet—but she ought to be calling in any minute," Tom answered from behind the counter. "Coffee fresh?" "'Bout two hours old." "Close enough." Steve shuffled down the hall toward the pot. As he poured, the radio came to life. "Augusta Unicom, Cessna eight-four-two-alpha-alpha, airport advisory, please." "Hey, Steve—" "Yeah, I heard." Tom picked up the radio microphone. "Two-alpha-alpha, this is Augusta Unicom. Wind is zero-two-zero at seven, favoring runway three. No reported traffic." Tom released the mike button. Steve whined, "C'mon, man, don't keep a poor flight instructor in suspense!" Tom ginned. "Don't ya trust her?" "Don't make me hurt you." Steve smiled and sipped his coffee. "Well?" the counter man asked into the mike. "Augusta traffic, Private Pilot Stephanie five north, inbound for landing." Her smile carried over the radio waves. "Hot damn," Steve cheered. Stephanie was his first student as a born-again flight instructor. Her process, just as with anyone who learned to fly, had been hard work, joys and setbacks. But she had persevered. He felt so proud of her. Steve and Tom were outside as the Cessna touched down in a textbook landing. "That looked nice," Tom observed. Steve grunted agreement. The airplane breezed across the ramp and stopped at its parking spot. The propeller clacked to a halt, the door popped open and a pretty, freshly minted pilot stepped onto the ground. The two men clapped loudly. They could see her blushing and grinning from a hundred feet away. "Thanks," she called, throwing them a self-conscious wave. With a flip of her curly brown ponytail, she turned and began tying down the airplane. "Find me when you're done," Steve called to her. "Okay," she nodded before she resumed her task. He told her often enough to take care of her airplane. It satisfied him to see her doing just that. A few minutes later, Stephanie met Steve in the break room. He was rinsing out his coffee cup. "Hey, congratulations!" "Thanks, Teach." She flashed a perfect smile; her face altered from long to beautiful. Her eyes always seemed happy, but now they glowed a just bit brighter. She reached behind her and loosened her hair. He glanced at her breasts. She shook her head and brunette curls cascaded like a waterfall across her shoulders. He refocused himself with an effort and resumed his role as her teacher and mentor. "Well, lemme see it!" She fished in her back pocket, pulled out her temporary airman's certificate, and waved it at him. "God, I'm sooo excited. It was great!" Then she prattled on about the details of her checkride in a singsong monologue. Steve listened and grinned. "Hey, guys," Tom yelled down the hallway. "I'm goin' home. Can you lock up?" "No problem," Steve assured him. "G'night." "See ya mañana. Congrats, Steph!" "Thanks, Tom." They heard the door latch and the lock rasp home. Stephanie appeared to have lost her train of thought. Steve noticed a fleeting expression in her blue-gray eyes. "Okay, so in celebration I buy my students dinner when they get their licenses. You interested?" "Sure," she answered without hesitation. "You choose the place, and I'll drive." "No, you choose. It's part of the tradition. And we should probably drive ourselves 'cause I have to come back here." "That's right—you live out back, huh?" she asked. Steve nodded. "Okay. Well, I like the Seaside Inn—" "Is that your favorite place?" "No, my favorite's Marcello's." Steve smiled but felt his wallet flinch. Marcello's offered the best Mediterranean cuisine in town—and was the most expensive restaurant as well. "Marcello's it is." "Oh, no, Steven." He adored the way her mouth moved when she pronounced his name. Steve fought a powerful urge to taste her pursed lips. "It's sooo expensive." "No," he replied, holding up a hand. "It's part of the tradition." She beamed at him. "Okay!" "Good. Let me lock up and I'll meet you in the parking lot. I'll follow you, okay?" "'Kay." Steve let her out, locked the terminal door and climbed into his rust-sprinkled Honda. He pulled through the airport gate to the parking lot where Stephanie waited. Her car slid out front and drove away in a cloud of exhaust. Steve followed. He enjoyed flying with her. She was a good pilot, and used wise judgment combined with a light, sure touch on the controls. Apparently, all that got left behind once she exited the airport grounds because the ride was more than a little wild. After two near misses and running a red light in vain attempts to keep up, Steve backed off and went to the restaurant himself. When he parked she met him with amused expression. "You drive like a grandma," she teased. "Yeah, I can see the headlines now. 'Flight Instructor Killed in Car Crash.' No thanks. If you flew like that, young lady—" "Oooo, getting kinda 'daddy' with me, aren't ya, Steven?" "No—" She flashed a mock pout and held a finger to her lower lip. "Don't spank me for being a bad girl—daddy!" "Jeez, stop it, okay?" Steve found his budding thoughts of role-play arousing. And a little bit frightening. "You sure—daddy?" He laughed. "Please, quit?" "Okay." Again she beamed. Steve felt his chest warm. It triggered a vague memory. He had spent quite a bit of time with this woman over the past several months. But the flirting and the increased familiarity were quite new. He always took great pains to avoid becoming overly familiar. Besides, his recent divorce left him uncertain. But now she—they—felt very different. The relationship had taken a sudden lurching turn that threatened to upset his balance. Now that she had completed her training and had her license, they were no longer instructor and student. Did that mean they could explore other options? His mind still wrestled with itself when she waved a hand and told him, "Let's go—I'm famished." She spun and strode toward the entrance. Once more, Steve played catch-up, but this time he watched the sway of her hips and bottom. It stirred him, and he pictured her gorgeous ass naked in his hands while they ground themselves together. He decided right then. He desperately wanted to know Stephanie on a more intimate basis. He hoped it might become very, very intimate indeed. * * * * * * * After they ordered appetizers, the conversation roamed. They got to know a little more about each other. They chatted and laughed and relaxed. At one point his face picked up the light just so, and his head turned just right. He looked so much like her first big crush back in high school. She obsessed about "her guy" and practically threw herself at him, but he had ignored her advances. Stephanie sometimes sat in class with her legs crossed and manipulated herself. Once she even came as she gazed at Mr. Jenkins. She got an A in his math class, but she had yearned for so much more. Her legs crossed under the dinner table and the top one swung back and forth. The corners of her lips curled at the sensations. Across from her and with the last vestiges of his reserve gone, Steven's mind strayed to carnal thoughts. He wondered if he was ready to be with someone again. The fear that this was the one chance butted headlong with the fear that he might get the girl only to lose her. The last couple of months had underscored his loneliness, but the possibility of loss interfered. Shit, he chastised himself, we haven't even gotten anywhere. Yet? His mind pictured her completely nude and his gaze strayed to her chest— "Sorry, what?" he asked, startled. "Hmmm. I'd like to know what you were just thinking." "Careful what you wish for," he quipped. "Sorry, what were you saying?" "I asked how long you've had this dinner tradition?" "Oh, that. Well, actually—um—you're the first." She laughed. Steve continued, "But I always wanted to do this for my students. Even back when I first started instructing. I just couldn't afford it then." "Well, if you keep taking them to places like this, you may not be able to afford it now," she said. He replied with a rueful grin. "Let's split this, okay?" "No, you're my guest. It's okay, really. Besides, I'm very proud of you." "Thanks, Teach," She reached for his knee and squeezed. "Or should I say, 'daddy'?" "I thought you were going to stop that," he said under his breath, but his tone was too playful. Stephanie smiled at him for a few more delightful seconds. She removed her hand from his leg. The oysters arrived. Stephanie picked up the nearest one, smeared some horseradish sauce on it, and licked the delicate folded edge as she stared into Steven's face. She took her time retracting her white-tipped tongue, then laughed at his glazed, open-mouthed expression. "Gotcha!" she giggled. He was just able to shut his jaw. "So, want to hear about the checkride?" "Please. Anything to maintain my dignity." They discussed the oral questions and some of the answers that troubled her. He thought she did well, even now when she expressed uncertainty. The flying presented her with fewer problems, just as Steve had expected. He had spent enough time with her in the Cessna to know she flew well. They talked through the entrée, and into dessert. They were still chatting through a second round of coffee when the server asked if they wanted anything else. "No, just the check," Steve prompted. When it arrived they had a brief tussle over it. "No, Stephanie, this is my treat." "C'mon, Steven. Let's at least split it—" "No." "Then let me leave the tip?" "Okay," he sighed, a little relieved. When they walked out, the darkness surprised them both. The late hour had arrived so quickly. "Well, I better get going," he told her. Neither one moved. "Thanks for dinner. It was great." "You're welcome." Steve had been struck dumb. "Well, I better get going." "Okay," she said. She took a step closer. "I'm proud of you. Getting your license is a big deal." "Thanks," she replied with restrained intensity. Then she hugged him around the neck and kissed his cheek. He turned into her, surprised to find her lips on his. The next moment he kissed her, really kissed her. He felt the mounds of her breasts pressing against his chest. Her tongue traced the edge of his mouth and he responded. When she noticed, she whimpered and pushed her thigh into his growing hardness. His tongue toyed with hers before he pulled away, pupils wide and breath rapid. "Wow," she giggled. "What was—Stephanie, sorry. That was, well, I mean, that was great, but I shouldn't have. I'm sorry—" "For what?' she asked. Her arms encircled his neck and their bodies pressed together. He stirred and she smiled. "You're not apologizing for that, are you?" she asked as she rubbed her thigh between his legs. "Stephanie, look, this isn't what—" "Steven, I passed my checkride today." She looked at him to let it register. "You're not my instructor anymore. Remember?" "Oh, yeah, I know. But— No, you're right. But—" But, his inner voice asked, is this too soon—too soon for someone who's not good at relationships? "But—what?" "Well, I only got divorced a few months ago." "You married now?" "No, the papers were finalized—" "Good, that's settled." She released her grip and taunted, "Race you back to your place." She turned on her heels and trotted to her car. She thought, In yer face, Mr. Jenkins! "Uh, oh," he mumbled to himself through a stupid grin. He had just unlocked his Honda when Stephanie's Mustang bolted from the parking lot. Its tires chattered under heavy acceleration. * * * * * * * Steve's place had fulfilled several roles over the years, though it had never been a home. But after the divorce Steven's housing need coincided with the flight school's desire to have a "night watchman." Some radios had been stolen from three airplanes late one evening; thus a symbiosis was born. Steve let Stephanie in and her eyes darted to the ceiling. There, hanging in all sorts of flight poses, were dozens of model aircraft and spaceships. The back wall was completely hidden behind a huge bookcase. Rows and rows of flying text, pilot biographies, aircraft manuals, aerial histories, and bird books crammed into every sliver until she thought the case might explode in a shower of confetti. She turned her head sideways to read some of the spines. A workbench had been built around three walls when a small maintenance shop occupied the building. The surfaces' new roles were counter space and desks. There was a small microwave and dormitory-style fridge that made up his kitchen. The bathroom and shower in the neighboring terminal building provided the missing facilities. The floor was oiled concrete hidden beneath a patchwork of area rugs that dressed up an otherwise ugly surface. "You want something to drink?" Steven asked her. "I've got some sodas, juice, coupla beers..." "What kind of pops?" "Coke, ginger ale, Fresca—" "Original Fresca?" "Yep." "That's good for me," she answered. She pulled a book on eagles from the case and began to thumb through it. She heard two cans open and felt him come up behind her. Her heart beat faster, but she remained with her back to him as she flipped pages without seeing them. "Eagles are amazing flyers," he murmured close to her ear. She trembled at the tone of his voice. "In fact, they even mate on the wing." God, he thought, that sounded so damned lame! "Really?" She pictured herself as a raptor, high above the Earth, coupled with a powerful male. They came together in bliss as the ground rushed up at them. Her swollen labia throbbed. "Yeah. Can you imagine? Feathers blowing and wings beating as you and your partner tumble through the sky. The freedom! The urge to mate much stronger than the fear of crashing." She feigned a swoon and pressed against his lean body. One of his arms encircled her waist and steadied her. He pulled her closer and she felt his bulge insinuate itself between the cheeks of her ass. With a low moan, she pressed tighter into him. "You want your soda?" he croaked. "Shit, no!" she growled in a passionate whisper. She barely set the book down, spun around and was in his arms. She stretched and found his mouth. Her lips and tongue attacked him in a long, wet kiss. She clung to him and ground her tummy into his erection. Then she leaned back, unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his body. Steven managed to set down the two cans and the shirt fell from his arms. He grabbed her bottom and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. The curve of his erection fitted to her and she pumped her hips up and down. "Mmm hmmm!" she breathed around their kiss. She established a rhythm that pleased her. Her body jerked from raw shock as her clit bumped against his cock. Steve gasped. He wanted to rip her clothes off and fill her in an instant, but he was patient. The anticipation would increase their pleasure. Now he just had to transmit that message to his lower body. She broke the kiss and leaned back. Stephanie stared right through him. Her pupils flared wide and her mouth hung open as she fought for breath. She grabbed the back of Steve's head and told him, "God, I've wanted you since that intro flight. Eight long months. Didn't you know how much I wanted you to fuck me?" His cock twitched as she uttered the word, "fuck," and she smiled "God, Stephanie, I wanted you, too. But—I just, I couldn't." She rolled her hips and more electricity whipped through her. She fought a sublime shudder and asked, "Couldn't, what?" "I couldn't take advantage of the instructor/student relationship. It would've been a violation of your trust." "Hmmm." She smiled. "I think there might be a 'violation' in your immediate future, mister man." Steve chuckled in spite of himself. When he thrust upward into her steamy pit and her eyes closed, he knew she was right. "Besides, I'm lots older," he continued. Her eyes eased half open and locked onto his. "Not lots older." "Forty-four." "I know. And I'm twenty-six, so that's not lots older. And if I don't care, why should you?" "And I'm divorced," he went on, but groaned when she pressured his throbbing tip. "As long as you're not married right now." She kissed him again with her eyes open and fixed on his. Her passion rose in leaps. Steve's mind refused to let go of the last vestige of worry. He worried that he wanted to be with Stephanie, but they would end up just like his failed marriage. He worried that he might disappoint her. Then she kissed him, and he worried that he might cum if she kept grinding on him the way she was at that moment. He pulled his mouth from hers. "If you don't stop that—" "What? You're gonna cum?" Stephanie finished for him. "Yeah," he hissed. "But if I can get another couple of humps in myself," she said. She ground her mons against his zipper. "I might beat you to-ooo-ooo-OOO!" He held her tightly as her body convulsed. His tip flared and he bit his tongue to stop his own orgasm. Just as he thought he might not regain control, his libido staggered back from the brink. Stephanie trembled through delightful aftershocks. Finally, she melted from his embrace. Her breath remained unsteady and ragged, and she held onto his shoulders for support. She nipped on the skin of his chest and smelled his body, a pleasant blend of cologne, cumin and perspiration. She let his flesh slip from her teeth and stood on her own. "God, that was fun," she grinned. "So, here's the deal. Daddy." She began by pulling her blouse over her head. "You and I are going to have wonderful sex, but this is a one-time thing. I'm not looking for anything long-term. It's just that after watching you fly for months, after watching these big, sexy hands on the controls—" She took one of his hands and sipped at a fingertip. "I just have to have them all over my body." Her hands reached between her breasts and unsnapped her bra. She let it hang open and gave him little teasing glimpses as she undid her belt and jeans. "If that's okay with you, then okay." The pants fell, past her tiny lace panties and shapely legs, to the patchwork floor. "What if it's not okay?" His dry mouth surprised him. He reached for a soda and gulped down three generous swallows. She clasped her bra again. "Well, I guess I'll have to leave." Her mock pout dripped honey. He cradled her jaw in his hand and whispered, "Please stay. I really want you to stay!" "As they said in the written test guide, that's the 'best answer'." She smiled and opened her bra catch once more. She stared into his eyes as she pulled the undergarment aside. The raw desire on his face pleased her. Fly Girl Ch. 02 The late sun sank in their wake as the Cessna droned along. Its altimeter indicated five thousand five hundred feet above mean sea level. The tops of distant cumulous clouds caught the setting rays and glowed titanium white against the watery eastern sky. As they dripped towards the sea the setting sun painted them fading shades of peach and rose. Stephanie straddled Steve's lap and ground herself onto his cock. These little visits to the "Mile High Club" had become habit; the couple found reasons to make day or weekend trips at least three or four times a month. She relished her "airgasms," and Stephanie bore down on this one with a vengeance. The headsets lay on the floor. She raised her voice to be heard over the airplane noise. "I'm . . . close, baby." "Me, too," Steve told her. The cramped cockpit barely allowed for movement. Even with Steve's seat moved back and lowered as much as possible they still had to balance on the inboard edge of the cushion. Stephanie pressed against Steve's chest to keep from interfering with the controls. The Cessna's nose porpoised up-and-down. Her nipples were sandwiched between them and the slight movement made her tingle from her breasts to her crotch. Pulling up on the airplane's nose, Steve used centrifugal force to drive Stephanie's silken pussy down onto his hardness. Every time the airplane pitched downward the near-weightless sensations gave them a delightful backstroke. The Cessna bottomed out of a shallow dive and Stephanie felt Steve's thick tip press against her cervix. Her flesh swelled with the contact. Ripples of intense pleasure raced through her in waves. "Oh, God!" She grabbed onto his shoulders and gasped in ragged rhythm as her body convulsed. "Ungh . . . ungh . . . nooow!" "Yeah, baby!" Steve groaned encouragement as his cum pulsed into Stephanie's clutching depths. One of his large hands gripped her ass while the other pumped the yoke faster to intensify their climax. His shaft twitched as her slick walls squeezed tight in rhythmic shudders. Afterwards, the airplane resumed level flight. Their labored breathing returned to normal. Steve shrank from Stephanie. Some of their broth seeped from her lips as she shifted to the right to the co-pilot's seat. They replaced their headsets. Stephanie spoke into the microphone, "Damn, I'll never get tired of that! And those little wiggles at the end? Yeah, keep those. Whew, I needed that, Steven!" Steve smiled as he zipped his fly and adjusted his seat. "Next time we'll try some steep turns. That'll get the g—" The overhead speaker interrupted him. "Cessna two-alpha-alpha, Macon Approach. Leaving my airspace—" He flicked the audio panel switch from "speaker" to "headphones" and the sound quality improved. "Radar service terminated, squawk V-F-R, frequency change approved. For further flight following, try Jax Approach in ten miles on one-three-two-point-four." "Cessna two-alpha-alpha, roger V-F-R. So long." "That was close," Stephanie giggled into the intercom. "Well, it's not like they're gonna see us, you know?" She returned his grin. "But we might have missed the call." Stephanie freshened up with a light touch but the Kleenex stroked between her long legs still made her shiver. She donned her panties and smoothed her skirt into place. Then Stephanie fastened her seat belts and fiddled with the GPS. "Twenty-five minutes or so till home," she announced "Yeah, we can start down in about seven. You hungry?" "Starved. Chinese?" "Sounds great." There was time to enjoy the sunset as it glowed in the tall, billowy clouds. The rest of the flight would have been normal, quite, even boring. Except for one thing. Except for activity in a clearing Steve knew from days past. Ghosts from almost twenty years ago. He shot a quick glance in her direction, but Stephanie concentrated on the GPS display. Fly Girl Ch. 02 "Really?" "Yeah, really. Saw a few back in the day—" "Hold on, Mister. Do I want to know? Remember, my cousin's enforcement. Might have to rat you out." He looked at her. As she studied his face her eyes lost their rascally glint. "He's a Sheriff, right?" "FBI," she corrected. "FBI. Yeah, might need to talk with him." He took a contemplative drink of beer before downing his shot and banging the glass onto the bar. "Shit!" "Okay, Mister Man, whadda ya know? And I mean, fer sure." "Well . . . damn, nothing, I guess. Not for sure." "Do you want to go back an' check it out?" She hoped he would say no; she had plans for Tom's evening. Plans, and needs. "I dunno." He glanced over and saw her unbutton the top button of her denim shirt. He caught a glimpse of her lacy red bra, the one she liked to wear when she could go all night. She watched his lust with satisfaction and suggested, "Maybe we oughta see what we can git on the 'boob tube'." He felt himself stir in his shorts and began to relax into their game. "Yeah, I bet we can get something good, huh?" Patsy wanted him, just as she always wanted him. She had thickened about the waist a bit when she passed forty-five, but Tom helped her feel pretty and sexy every time they made love. She adored him for it. "So, let's let this go for now, and just concentrate on 'us,' okay?' "But we'll talk with your cousin, right?" "Promise." She reached for his leg and slid her palm up until she bumped into his blunt tip. "But right now, I need you somethin' fierce," she whispered in her Texas drawl. "Then drink up, baby, 'cause I'm gonna ring your bell!" She smiled and stroked the growing cock through his jeans. "Ding-a-ling, baby. Ding-a-fuckin'-ling!" They hoisted their beers and he left a twenty on the bar. Patsy raced home with Tom in hot pursuit. They tangled together as soon as they got inside her front door, and attacked each other's mouths in hungry, wet kisses. She unbuttoned her shirt and it fell to the floor. Her hands tugged his belt and opened his fly. He stepped out of his pants and his cock strained against his shorts. Patsy stepped back and unclasped the crimson bra. She let it hang from her shoulders. Tom stared at her. He never tired of worshiping her full titties, or the nipples as thick as his little fingertips, or the wide circles of her responsive areolas. He knelt and hefted her lush left breast with both hands. Her tanned tipped disappeared into his mouth with a wet slurp. As he tongued Patsy her fingertips twisted and kneaded her other nipple. Delicious electricity tickled her melting pussy and swelling clit. "Damn, baby, you do that so good!" She forced his head to her chest and told him, "But I need that sticky sweet stuff from your fat tube on my boobs." She pulled away and turned for her bedroom. Her short skirt slid over her rounded ass and down her tapered legs. Patsy stepped from it without missing a stride, and he watched the sway of her wide, womanly hips in the tiny red thong. "Damn," he breathed, "that's one fine ass!" He shucked off his shirt as he followed her. Patsy lay face down on the bed and rummaged in the nightstand. She retrieved a bottle of scented oil, lay back and dribbled a generous amount over and between her boobs. She set the bottle aside and began rubbing the lube all over her chest. Tom said nothing. He watched her for a few seconds, let his eyes drift lower to Patsy's puffy vee encased in lacey fabric, and licked his lips. Then he slid his shorts to the floor and climbed into bed. He knee walked up the length of his woman's voluptuous figure until she grasped his cock with an oily hand. "Hmm, nice and hard," she whispered as she ran her palm along his shaft. She swabbed his fat head across her slippery nipples before sliding him into the depths of her cleavage. Tom moaned and shoved forward. She pushed both globes tighter around him, imprisoning his erection just where they both wanted it. Tom fell forward and caught the headboard. He pulled back and she gazed at his retreating tip, shiny and swollen, as its flared edge scraped over her skin. Then it moved forward again, nearly reaching her mouth. Patsy bent her head towards him and flicked the tip with the end of a pointed tongue. She tasted the first of his precum mixed with the Mango-flavored oil. His body shuddered. "Oh, baby," she cooed, "Titty fuck me till you cum!" "Oh, yeah!" She played with her fat, sensitive nipples and wrinkled areolas. The oil made every slithering caress exquisite torture. Her pussy soaked the tiny red thong in response. She knew Tom would cum quickly the first time; she could hardly wait. The second time always took much, much longer. Tom groaned and his breath turned ragged. He clutched the headboard until his knuckles whitened. His glazed eyes focused on the lascivious specter of his oily cock slipping back and forth between Patsy's big titties. Her nipples looked like two fiery volcanoes rising from the atolls of her pebbly areolas. He felt the tingle begin deep in his pelvis. "Now, baby?" "Yeah, honey, coat my nips!" She took him in her slippery hand and aimed his tip. "Oooh . . . oooh . . . oooh!" he moaned to the rhythm of his orgasm. Thick bolts of creamy magma spurted from his purple tip. They splashed headlong into the burning flesh of Patsy's nipples and she gasped. Spunk clung to breasts and fingers. She smoothed the luscious fluid into her skin as Tom crumpled beside her. "Mmm," Patsy sighed, cradling an ample breast and tonguing the coated nipple. "Yummy!" Tom smiled as he fought to regain his breath. "You want . . . some . . . nibbling, baby?" "God, yes! Go down on me while I clean my titties, sugar!" Tom positioned himself between her legs. Her musk struck him, and his deflating cock twitched out of reflex. He reached for the edge of Patsy's thong, ran thick fingertips over her lace-covered pussy to watch her squirm, and pulled the wet lingerie aside. Her matted hair glistened, and he enjoyed eying the thick labia. "God, hurry, baby. Eat me!" "Like this?" Tom teased her with a long lick from her dripping opening up into her hood. He flicked her clit and grinned when he heard Patsy gasp. "Fuck, yeeeah," she hissed. "More of that. And go deeper! Fuckin' eat me out!" Tom devoured her just as she liked—a little bit rough with lots of teasing back and forth. He glanced up and saw her staring at him as she suckled on her right nipple. The lined flesh stretched from her breast as Patsy sucked hard. Even with her mouth full she groaned when Tom's tongue ran up inside her steamy slit. He reached beneath her and squeezed her ass cheeks. Tom shoved his face tighter against her cunt and drew in a mouthful of flushed lips and glistening clit. His suction caused her flesh to swell, and his ravenous tongue set her on fire. Patsy shook and he knew she was ready. "Oh, fuck!" she cried. Then she licked the last few droplets of his seed from her left areola and filled her mouth with the thick nipple. "Mmph . . . mmph . . . mmph . . . mmmhmm. Mmmhmm!" Her body stiffened and Tom hung on for dear life. Patsy mauled her tits and shoved her hips towards him. He sucked harder and thrashed her clitty with his raspy tongue. She teetered on a plateau for a few moments before tumbling into her full climax. She wailed around her nipple yet somehow managed to keep it between her lips. Her pussy clutched at Tom's tongue and dripped honey onto his face with every contraction. He drove her until she emitted a low, trembling screech and pushed his head from her pulsing crotch. Tom lay beside her as she collected herself. A light sheen of sweat veiled Patsy's face, and her breasts were shiny. Her bra lay twisted under her arms and her thong remained pulled aside, exposing her flared labia. He tasted the nearest nipple and her body shuddered. "That was a good one, baby," Tom proclaimed in a proud voice. "That was a fucking good one, Mr. Man! Mmm . . . ." One of her hands caressed her opening and her hips jerked. "Need a rest?" She reached between his legs and found him delightfully erect. "Uh, uh. I need this. My insides are on fire." "Well," Tom told her as he climbed onto her mature body, "I've got a hose that'll put that right out for you, ma'am." "Oh, fuck!" she moaned as she felt the tip enter her. She pulled Tom's head to her and kissed him, tasting her cum on his lips. His dick slid deeper as their kisses grew wetter and hungrier. The pressure parting her walls made Patsy shiver. "Mmm!" He reached the end of her and she ground hard onto him. As he pulled his hips back and began earnest thrusting Patsy wrapped her thick legs around his waist and titled her pelvis. He kept up the wondrous pumping for as long as she hoped he would. By the time Tom coated her insides Patsy had shaken through three gut-wrenching cums. It was well past midnight when they were finally spent. Fly Girl Ch. 03 Chapter 03: Moderate Turbulence The beat of water played across her skin. Her nipples had hardened at the first touch of spray, but now they ached. Stephanie tingled as she directed the pulsing steam between her legs. She shivered before her hands fumbled the showerhead back into its cradle. Damn, that Steven, she thought. It had been more than a week since the meeting with FBI Agent Al Scott, and Stephanie was on edge. The razor slid over her lathered mons. In a couple of minutes the last stubble spiraled down the drain, leaving her smooth and bare. She removed the showerhead from its holder and rinsed herself. Then the rinsing turned into playing, and the playing turned into pleasuring. The probing needles of hot water found her labia and the folds around her clit. She missed Steven's touch, and could not understand his lack of interest. She longed to lose herself in their lovemaking but was left to this. Masturbation cooled her physical desire even as it left her empty. She pressed on the soft skin above her slit and the tip of her clitoris jutted from her cleft. Her fingertips circled several times as she fantasized about his tongue. Stephanie leaned back against the cool tile, closed her eyes and used her free hand on her full breasts. She pulled on her nipples. "Oh, Steven . . . ." Stephanie braced one foot on the edge of the tub. The showerhead sent tingling sensations through her pelvis. "I . . . need . . . you!" The water enveloped her pussy and lights flickered behind her eyelids. The orgasm left her gasping. She stepped out of the shower with the bathroom door still wide. Steve walked past and she called to him. Stephanie stood, hair dripping wet, her thick nipples hard and her pussy absolutely nude. Steve's eyes lingered on her. His stare felt hot on her skin. His mouth worked a couple of times. Then he retreated. Stephanie threw on a t-shirt and jeans then found him leaning against the kitchen counter. Before she could say anything, he told her, "I have to go. I've got a lesson. Call you later, okay?" "Sure, Steve. Whatever." In the months they had been together this was the first time he could remember her calling him Steve, not Steven. He gave her an unreadable look, pecked her on the cheek and left in a rush. Stephanie half expected any loose papers to trail in the vacuum of his wake. She needed him right now, needed him to be strong for her, to desire her, to help her forget the world in a cocoon of lovemaking. Instead he bolted. Even more confusing was that he got hard when he saw her naked. She noticed. She was certain. One phrase kept repeating in her mind. What the fuck? Fly Girl Ch. 03 She stared at him, so he repeated, "Okay?" She nodded. Once. "Okay." He leaned to her and kissed her cheek. Her skin burned at the touch of his lips. He murmured in her ear, "I lu— I'll, uh, call you later." She let his hands slip from hers. After the door latched behind him she sank to the kitchen floor and cried. Fly Girl Ch. 04 Fly Girl IV: Traffic Pattern Entry Al rose, dressed and reached for the door just as his cell phone rang. It was his partner calling from Miami. "Hey, buddy, got a second?" "Sure," Al replied. "I'm heading out to meet with Tom. Says he has something for me." "Yeah? So do I." "Okay," Al said as he settled behind the wheel. "Tell me while I drive." Thirteen minutes later Al strode into the same room at the airport where he met with Steven and Patsy. Tom sat at the conference table drinking coffee. He eyed the Agent. "Hey. You look a little better." "Thanks. Sleep helped. So, what's up?" "Been thinking about the body, the second one." "You mean the kid?" Al prodded. "Yeah." "And you're not buying that he was a 'mule'—" Tom tilted his head, mouth poised. "Not an official mule?" Al finished. Tom's mouth hung open. "You think maybe he was 'carrying' on his own?" Tom nodded, still mute. "You're thinking it's human trafficking. Not drugs." Tom sat there with his jaw down, working it just a bit, as Patsy's cousin stole all of his thunder. But his voice continued to elude him. Finally, he asked, "How'd you fig—?" "C'mon, man. You think the FBI's just a bunch o' dumb shits in suits?" Tom shook his head. "Good." Al cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, my partner told me." Tom took a second to digest the information before he burst into hearty laughter. Al grinned with him. "He made a trip to, well, south, and met with the Florida Coalition Against Human Trafficking. They let him know that they've been watching the activity through this region and it's been heating up lately. The kid was just a weird coincidence, but it suggested something else." "Yeah, no shit it did," Tom agreed, pensive. "I saw it happen back in the day." Then he hastened to add,"'Fore I reformed, now, ya know." "Yeah, I don't wanna know 'bout before. I just want to believe you're a good guy—for Patsy's sake." Tom was about to speak, but snapped his lips together instead and just nodded. "Look,' Al admitted, "I just told you way more than I should. And since you and Steve have been helpful in all this mess I figure it's sort of 'quid pro quo'. But now, is there anything else you can tell me? You can call this 'the interrogation,' if you want. But if you have anything . . .?" "Well," Tom began, eyes darting around the room, "I use to know about a couple of places where you could get a plane into. Even a good sized one, too, if you were a decent stick-and-rudder guy . . ." Fly Girl Ch. 04 Just then, just as the thought of love jarred her, she felt Lucinda cumming. Maria would have normally looked between their legs to watch the girl spasm as she achieved her moment. But this was not mere mechanical sex. This was making love to a special person. She remained unable to tear her gaze from Lucinda's soulful eyes. There! She was sure of it. As her woman shuddered in fulfillment, her eyes held desire, lust, gratitude, and . . . love! "Madre de Dios!" At that instant of recognition Maria's orgasm ripped through her body like a thunderbolt. She arched her back and her hips pressed tighter to Lucinda's soft, drenched labia. Their swollen folds and erect clits throbbed together, pulsing and clenching as one delicious entity. The girl's body glistened with sweat from both her efforts and her arousal. The undulations of Lucinda's breasts, the flexing muscles of her abdomen, the rhythm of her hips and the smooth soft skin of her legs drove Maria wild with lust and joy. Lucinda became a sight so beautiful that Maria climaxed again, gushing her fluid into their joining. She had never cum so hard or so deeply, and the girl shivered with her in prolonged ecstasy. They maintained eye contact and Maria felt her heart beating for the first time in years. She knew she was crying, but she could not stop and did not care. She felt alive again and that proved to be more powerful than she would have ever believed. With that vision the final piece of her puzzle fell into place and her plan became a goal. She and Lucinda would be together. Their simple home would tidy, safe and, above all, a place of joyful love. No more fear of being sold. No more demands for acts that left her sticky and defiled. No more stupid sexual competition for control that ultimately amounted to nothing. No more cruelty. No more killing. As Maria examined these thoughts in the night, her lover cuddled against her side. One of Lucinda's small hands caressed Maria's chest. The fingertips traced skin, intending nothing more than to emote—and just that quickly Maria's heart no longer belonged to her. It had been given to the girl whose warm breath and gentle touches demonstrated how love could feel. But in the here-and-now that chulo, that cabron, that sustantivo had ruined it! She wanted her girl back—her lover, her love. He had no right. The situation, and her inability to alter it, made her furious. One lesson she learned from him, though, was to control anger and wield it as a weapon. Her fists bunched so hard that her nails cut into her palms. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, channeled her fury and began to plan. Fly Girl Ch. 04 "That's what I thought," he laughed in triumph. Steven took her head in his hands. He kissed her with a long, tender passion then proclaimed, "I love you, too, Stephanie." Fly Girl Ch. 05 Fly Girl V: Base-to-Final By PygmyCoho Agent Al Scott murmured to his partner, "So, this is somethin', huh?" Agent Wayne Little answered, "Yep. Makes a fellow feel kind of important." He chuckled. The quiet offices of the Sheriff had taken on a bustling life with extra personnel assigned to run down leads. Two of the more promising tips led to areas of interest, one of which was on the list that Tom provided. Al's instincts told him to go with that one. "How sure are you about this Tom guy, Al?" "Got a pretty good feeling about him." "Anything to do with him and your cousin?" Wayne picked up his long-cold sub sandwich, decided against it and tossed the remnants into the trash. "I thought 'bout that. Thought hard, too. Even allowing for some favoritism, I still like his pick better. Why? You wanna bail on me?" "Nah, just checking your gut. I'll stick with you. But . . ." "But?" "If you're wrong the drinks are on you. For the whole night." "More like tomorrow night, or the next, with all the paperwork. That's if we even go today. It's getting kind of late." "Yeah," Wayne admitted. "Either way it goes, paper up the wazoo, huh? Okay so two nights after the deal goes down?" "Okay. Uh, you, or the squad?" His smile faded as the older agent appeared to give the question such serious consideration. Al's brain kept increasing the bar tab as time dragged. "Ha! Gotcha. Just me." Wayne grinned. "Okay," Al sighed, relief on his face. "And if I'm right?" "Same bet," Wayne offered. "Except," Al stated, "you need to let me invite the civvies." "That's what, another two, right?" "Yeah . . . no, four," Al confirmed. "You up for that?" "If I get to invite four, too." "Deal," Al said, extending a hand. They shook. "Hey," Wayne thought out loud, "What if neither one hits?" Al shrugged and turned back to his computer. He did not want to think about a shut-out. Fly Girl Ch. 05 Stephanie turned to the heading and adjusted the power. She rotated the trim wheel and the airplane settled into a stabilized descent. The smooth air would become a little more turbulent as they approached the airport traffic pattern, but it was a fine afternoon. He wriggled into his pants and zipped the fly without ever opening his eyes. "Shit!" When he heard the alarm in Stephanie's voice Steve bolted upright. "What?" "That! Where'd that fucker come from?" She was turning away to the left but stared out the right window. Steven looked to see a small business jet slowing to match their speed. He was impressed by the pilot's skill to keep the faster, heavier aircraft in formation with their slow "spam can." As they watched, the jet's landing gear extended and the wing flaps deployed. "That's a Cessna Mustang. Steph, switch to one-two-one-point-five." Under his breath, Steve mumbled, "Shit, this guy's good." "Yeah, okay, Steven, Switching." As soon as the new frequency was entered in the comm radio the headphones came alive. "—You are in violation of a T-F-R area—" "Shit, Steven, I checked. There were no Temporary Flight Restrictions for two hundred miles. They can't be talking to us . . ." "—Suggest you turn to heading two-six-zero and land. You will be met by law enforcement. Do you copy? Cessna eight-four-two-alpha-alpha—" "Fuck, that's us. How do they know who we are?" Her voice sounded high and tense. "Maybe they can read the foot-tall numbers on our fuselage." They could both easily see the pilot's face behind his sunglasses, his headphones, his shirt collar. They saw his lips move. "—Turn right immediately, heading two-six-zero. Acknowledge. Over." Over the intercom, Steve mumbled, "He sounds annoyed." Stephanie smiled just a little. He keyed the microphone. "Roger, Cessna eight-four-two-alpha-alpha turning right, heading two-six-zero. Descending." "Cessna two-alpha-alpha, roger." The Citation pilot gave them the identifier of the airport where they were to land. Steve knew it by heart, but keyed it into the GPS anyway. As Stephanie turned into the jet it descended and slid under them to come up on their left side. Flying on the outside of their turn radius meant the jet could fly a little faster and avoid stalling. "Shit, this guy's good." "Steven, what's going to happen? Will I lose my license?" "No, Babe," he said. At the same time he thought, I might lose mine . . . "We'll just tell 'em it was an honest mistake, that you checked for TFRs and there were none. We're following their instructions so it should be okay." Their pulses slowed and the cockpit began to feel normal, at least as normal as it could feel with a government jet hanging in space just off their left wing. Stephanie fought to maintain her poise, but lost the struggle in an outburst of raucous laughter. "What's so damn funny," Steve asked, annoyed but smiling in spite of himself. "Do you—" Her laughter rendered her temporarily speechless. "Do you know," she began again as her eyes watered, "how close you came to getting caught with your pants down?" Their guffaws provided a welcome release. Fly Girl Ch. 05 Maria nodded at the broad back before speaking to her lover. "She is right, I think. We should take care of that arm, yes?" Lucinda nodded. Maria spent the next few minutes dressing the wound. She knew the liquid would sting, but Lucinda barely flinched. Once cleaned the cut looked much better—more superficial than Maria first thought. She finished by wrapping it with fresh cloth that appeared to have been torn from age-softened t-shirts. "How is that?" "Much better. How did you learn to do that?" Maria's smile faded. "You do what you have to," she replied. She busied herself with gathering the used bandage and dirty cloth. "Y'all done?" She turned the arm and admired the neat job. "Now where'd y'all learnt t'do that? Tha's good." She beamed, despite the tension. Lucinda smiled. Maria's eyes softened a bit, too. "Bet all y'all's 'ungry, huh?" She took the basin and slung the water out the back door. She set the bowl on the floor, ran her hands under the faucet, dried them on her apron and picked up a metal plate. It quickly filled with stew and greens and a square of cornbread with melting butter. She set it in front of Maria and turned to fix another. "You, first." Maria slid the meal to Lucinda. "For being so brave. For knowing that the dog and his woman would not hurt us. I did not believe you. I am sorry." "You have a history that differs from mine, Lucinda said as she accepted the plate. I'm closer to the memory of trust than you are." Her tiny smile was infinitely gentle. A second plate arrived. Lucinda had a bite in her mouth, a wide-eyed expression on her face, and a growing smile on her lips. "Excellent!" she assured Maria. "Y'all dig in, sweetie. Looks like all y'all need ta put on some weight." The big woman chuckled as she turned to serve herself. Otis's tail began to thump in earnest when she sat with them and bowed her head. "Lawd, thanks for your bounty. Thank you for watching over these two girls and for giving me the means to welcome 'em into my home. And Lawd, help them learn ta speak proper and right quick, too. Amen!" She spooned a generous helping of stew into her mouth and watched her guest. She smiled as they ate with gusto. "All y'all's hungry, huh? Hun-gry," she spoke. "Si, hon-gree," Lucinda replied. She turned to Maria. "Hon-gree, si? It's very, very delicious, yes? Very 'hon-gree'." She smiled at their hostess. "Hon-gree!" "That's better, she grinned. "Damn, this teachin' ain't so hard, is it, Otis?" She slipped him a piece of squirrel meat. His tail beat the floor. He swallowed, smiled and waited for more. Fly Girl Steven watched in awe as she bared her breasts. They sloped into generous mounds tipped by thick, pink nipples. Stephanie's wrinkled areolas seemed tiny in comparison. He noted in passing that her bra was padded. He worried that this might be a dream. His hand trembled as it reached for her. Her skin felt like silk beneath his fingers, and the weight of her breast told him this was real. She sighed at the touch. His thumb and forefinger cupped the bottom of her curve before they moved to surround her nipple. He pinched gently at her erect tip and she gasped. Her hands held his to her and she looked into his face. "Do you want me?" she asked in a little voice. "Hell, yes!" He wrapped her in his arms and crushed her to him. Her naked breasts pushed into his skin and their mouths met. He ran his hands to her ass and found a thin waist band and exquisitely nude flesh. He grabbed her and pulled her hips to him. Stephanie felt his cock pulsing through his jeans. Her own crotch had grown exquisitely wet, and she yearned to taste him. She pulled away, gladdened to see the heightened lust on Steven's face. She knelt and her deft hands loosened his belt and opened his fly. His hardness bowed the white boxer briefs and his tip jumped out at her. She swabbed it with her tongue and grinned at his sharp intake of breath. A quick tug and his beautiful dick sprang free. She encircled it with her hand and slipped half its length into her mouth. His end had already dampened with precum. Her tongue lingered and Steve groaned. Stephanie's mouth swirled and tickled up and down the thick shaft. She rubbed beneath the sensitive tip and sucked hard on the head. Then she plunged downward until she felt his glans at the back of her throat. She made a sound of encouragement and his knees went weak. She pulled back until he slipped from her clutching mouth. Her tongue ran in several tight circles around his rim before she took him into her throat once more. This time she did not stop. She gripped his ass with both hands and pulled until his entire length disappeared in her mouth. He felt her nose touched his tummy and she swallowed repeatedly. Her throat muscles stroked his rim and tip while she made small, erotic gulping noises. "Ahgh! God, Ooooh! GAWD!" He held her head, as much for balance as to encourage her. Oral sex had never been like this. It felt as though his entire soul was about to explode into this wanton girl's ravenous mouth. He swelled and they both knew. She loved feeling the first spurt in her throat, but she desired his taste. She slid away from him until his thick, pulsating tip gave up its delectable cream. His cum mixed with her saliva as she swished her tongue around his overly sensitive cock. He tasted as good as she hoped he would. Her mouth sucked and swallowed noisily at his shrinking flesh until he collapsed. "That was yummy!" The only reply Steven could manage was an exhausted groan. It had been years since he had such a powerful orgasm and, when his body jiggled through an aftershock Stephanie smiled her satisfaction. "Did you like that, Daddy?" "Mmm hmmm," he mumbled from the depths of a stupor. Stephanie looked around and spotted the trundle bed beneath the counters. She rose with the grace of a cat and swayed across the room. He watched her smooth form and rejoiced at her nearly nude bottom. He loved the dimples on her back. When she turned and wrestled the bed into the room, her breasts jostled invitingly. Her nipples were long and thick. He struggled against an overwhelming urge to devour them. "Can I ask you something kinda personal?" "Jeez, Steve, I'm practically naked and just gave you head—I think we're past having to ask permission, okay?" Her smile captivated him. "Yeah, okay. And for the record, that was the best blow job I've ever had in my life!" She grinned at him and slipped off her thong. Before she sat he glimpsed her smooth vee. When he failed to speak she wet her fingers and played with her left nipple. "You were saying?" "What? Sorry. Yeah, um, I was— Oh, yeah." Stephanie grinned at the effect she had on Steve. After months of seeing him totally in control, the satisfaction of watching him fall to pieces was such fun! "Well, I noticed that you wear a padded bra. But, why? I mean, your, well, your breasts are amazing—" "Thanks." "No, what I mean is, I don't think you need any padding." "But just look at these!" She fondled her erect nipples. "They're so big that unless I have something padded to cover 'em up, they're too easy to see. And I only want to share them with who I decide. Not just anyone on the street who can see 'em through my shirt, you know?" "Wow," he whispered. "Wanna share?" Steve nodded, eyes bright. He stepped out of his pants, and stripped off his underwear as he crossed the room. Then he knelt in front of her and kissed her soft, warm lips. He cupped one of her breasts and felt its tip dig deliciously into his palm. She moaned at his touch and her tongue licked his. He tasted his essence on her. He moved down to her neck and nibbled at the tender skin. "You know, once I almost came from playing with my nipples." He caressed her and she murmured, "Oooo, that's nice. Oh, my. Take your time with them, 'kay? I want you to make me cum like that. Oooo, yeah, like that. Just nipple play—leave my kitty for later." Steven bent to her chest and sipped one of her thick pink tips. He did as she asked and immersed himself in her firm breasts and succulent nipples. Time stretched and compressed, but he continued to lavish her with licks and sucks and nibbles. Her breathing grew impassioned, heated, and eventually changed to ragged gasps. She twined her fingers in his hair and pressed him to her body. "Oh, God, I'm getting so close," she told him in a harsh whisper. "Let go, baby," he moaned. His tongue flicked her right nipple. He pinched and rubbed the saliva-coated flesh on her left breast. Stephanie shook at the touch. "Oooh," she whimpered, "so cloooose. Don't—oooh, yeees! Don't stop! Aaah, aaah, oooh, God! Yeees! Fuck YEEES!" Her nipples burned and her body convulsed. Raw jolts pulsed and raced through her trembling frame. Her cream ran fast and thin until her labia were coated and she grew wet between her bottom cheeks. She squirmed and writhed and reveled in the climax. Steven reveled in it, too. Stephanie was so attuned to her breasts that she could achieve orgasm just from nipple play. He loved it! But he wanted her to explode, so as she seemed to peak he slithered two fingers into her and curled them directly into her g spot. "Ungh! Fuck, yeah! Ungh! Oooh, SHIT!" She cried out as her pleasure ratcheted higher and fireworks erupted behind her eyelids. Her thighs clamped hard onto his invading digits. His palm was soon soaked I her volcanic honey as his tongue thrashed back and forth at her tingling red nipples. Stephanie came down to earth in stages over the next several minutes. At last she lay back, closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. "Oooo," she giggled. "Damn, I needed that. Oh, Gawd!" "You are sooo beautiful," he told her. She turned to look at him and smiled. But she grew a little more serious at his expressive eyes. "Thanks, Steven. So are you." She pulled him down to her and kissed him. He suckled softly along her jaw and along her throat. She laughed then whispered words that made his cock twitch with need. "Taste me, Steve. Please!" Her hands guided—propelled—him lower. He nibbled his way across the expanse of her flat tummy so quickly that he almost missed the chance to tickle her navel with his tongue. Her giggle turned to a sigh as he passed her waist, and into a moan as he nestled his lips into her bare, soaked opening. "God, I love that." She sighed. Steven's tongue explored and caressed her delicate femininity. He love giving cunnilingus, but it had not appealed to his ex. From the sexy noises, gentle hips thrusts, and her hands on his head, Steve knew Stephanie was different. She enjoyed the attention. He lost himself in her pleasure. Lips and tongue sought out spots that made her respond. He pulled her flesh deep between his lips. Then he played with her as she slipped from his grasp. His flat tongue painted across her slick folds. His elongated tongue disappeared into her molten core. His hungry tongue swabbed nectar from her drenched vee. All the while her body eased further toward a blissful release. He caught the abrupt change in her breathing and the mounting tension of her body. His hands worked under her hips and gripped the globes of her tight ass. As her swirled his tongue around her hard clit and lip-bit her, she shoved herself into his mouth. "Oh, Fuck, baby. I'm, I'm, I'm—gon—gonna. Nungh! Ungh! Oh, damn! Cum—ming, now! Oooh! OhmyGod! NOW!" He sucked hard as her hips shook in his grip. She came for him, and he doubled his efforts to capture every last luscious drop. He licked her until she grabbed him hard by the hair and pulled him from her burning crotch. "Wow," she sighed. Her eyes were closed and a sheen of sweat sparkled on her flushed face. Some strands of hair stuck to her cheek. Her nipples and areolas stood proud and crinkled, her body the paragon of arousal. Steve laid his head on one of her thighs and inhaled her aroma. It had been far too long since he enjoyed a lover such as Stephanie. He could grow used to being with her. "Kiss me, Steven." That command conveyed the depths of her desire. He made his way to her pursed lips and teased them with the tip of his tongue. She smiled then pulled his head to her. Her tongue snaked into his mouth and caught her flavor all over him. "Yummy." She moved her leg and felt his erection. "Oh, you're so nice and hard." "Can't help it—" "Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm, but I can." She took him in her palm and stroked his length. He shuddered in her hand. "I need you inside me," she murmured into his ear. She rolled him onto his side and raised her leg. Then she rubbed his tip into her wet vulva. His sharp gasp made her grin. "Do you like that?" she asked. "Oooh," he moaned for her. "But I better put on—" "It's okay. I've taken care of that. Besides," she said as she nibbled on one of his lobes, "I want to feel you shoot that hot cum deep in my pussy." Her frank language and continued play had Steven on edge. He had no idea how he could possibly get inside her without exploding first. "If you keep doing that, I might not make it that long." Her response was to hold his tip to her entrance and push herself onto him. Half his length drove into her slick, steamy vagina where she gripped him with her inner muscles. She held still and bit his shoulder. She relished the way he fit inside her. "Oooh," he whimpered. His pelvis trembled for a moment before his body quieted. She remained motionless to keep from tipping him over the edge. She wanted this to last a little longer. "Man-up, Fly Boy. This is where we get serious." When she felt that he had regained some of his composure, she pulled back slightly and thrust forward once more. Another two inches slipped into her fiery depths. Now it was her turn to shudder as she received stimulation where her body had gone without. One final press and her bare vagina nestled into his curly hair. His tip reached to the end of her, and she felt him flare and thicken against her cervix. She held absolutely still and barely breathed, hoping that he would last. After several tense seconds he ran his hands down her back and took firm hold of her round bottom. He steadied her hips and started a slow, rocking rhythm that scraped his rim along her rippling pussy. Each thrust grew longer and more urgent until he stroked her full length. She felt herself bouncing back and forth between vacuum and fullness, over and over. He rolled onto his back, settled her and pumped just a little deeper into her welcoming body. She kissed down on him and pressed her full breasts into his sweaty chest. Her mounds flattened and her thick nipples burned. Every nerve ending cried out in joy. She clung to his shoulders, gasping, lost in their lovemaking. Their moans filled each other's ears and hung in the room. Only minutes before she had worried that he would not last—now as she neared a powerful climax she worried that she would arrive without him. Then she felt his tip swell and his hips thrust hard into hers. She trapped him between her slim legs. Impaled on his exploding cock, she let herself go. Her eyes squeezed shut and her arms embraced his neck. She cried out in passion. The sound in her ears reminded her of a powerful bird's sharp call. For an instant she wondered what it would be like to mate like eagles. To tumble and twist and fall with him, hold him, as they consummated their relationship in the high, thin air. Then the instant passed and her body curled inward as her release began. She felt his cum boil into her depths and abandoned herself to their shared climax. It was several minutes before she remembered where she was. She could not recall when he slipped out of her. He held her close to his muscled chest and his hand tickled at the dimples on her back. She heard the pounding of his heart. She felt the pounding of her own where his leg touched her sex. With a deep sigh and a sleepy smile she snuggled into his chest and drifted. Steven heard her breath grow steady and deep. He stayed with her, motionless, and hoped that the night—their one night together—would never end. Later her small dream twitches stirred him. He watched her angelic face in the dim light, her fluttering eyelids and delicious lips, and wondered what she dreamed. Then she awoke, her eyes focused quickly with a lusty glow, and she took him again. * * * * * * * Four days after Stephanie's checkride, Steve sat in the dim light, hunched over as he pored through yet another reading of his favorite volume on flying technique. It was his futile attempt to fill the emotional void. He and Stephanie had not spoken since, "The Night," and he missed her on more than one level. The knock on his metal door startled him and he spilled his coffee. "Shit!" he mumbled as he grabbed a paper towel and mopped at the stain. "Just a second!" He swung the door open and stood spellbound. "Hi," Stephanie bubbled. She looked down, saw the discoloration, grinned and asked, "Happy to see me?" "Huh? Oh, no. I mean, 'yes.' Dammit, I spilled coffee on myself when you— Never mind. But, um, what're you doing here?" "Is that any way to greet your lover?" She pouted for effect but her eyes held a mischievous sparkle. "Well, um, no, but wait. 'Lover?' I thought you said that was a 'one-time' thing." "I did," she confirmed, pushing past him with her arms full. "And this is a different, 'one-time,' thing." Stephanie set down her sacks and began rolling up the floor coverings. "And when you told me you weren't looking for a relationship?" "Safety net. In case you were a shit." She grinned. "You weren't. So, give me a hand, will you?" "Huh?" "Unpack." "Oh—kaaaay." He rummaged in the paper bags and lifted out a couple of small plastic bottles of massage oils, a carafe of red wine and a loaf of calamata olive and garlic bread. And a game of "Twister." "What?" "I'm gonna get you a little drunk, then we're gonna play a 'Twister' tournament." She flashed her bright teeth at him. "Well, a kind of adult version. You know, best two-out-of-three? Won't hurt your floor if it gets oily, right?" He stared at her. She lifted her blue skirt in slow motion. As the hemline rose, it revealed stockings and their darker tops, bare legs and electric blue garter straps, and the briefest peek of her denuded vagina. Steven's mouth worked a couple of times but he made no sound. Stephanie giggled and dropped her skirt back into place. "Or we could forget the whole thing. You, me, food, wine, oily naked 'Twister.' We can forget all that and I could just leave." Steve closed the door. Then he locked it.