The Broads Can’t Resist the Turbo
“Alright boys. Listen up. This is the good part. So there I am, in Cairo, Egypt, in some kind of officer’s bar on a military base.
“Yeah, that’s right. They let a working Joe like me into the officer’s bar because they figure I’m the Captain of my own plane. Shut up and let me tell the story.
“Anyway, I’m in the middle of a bar, drinking a beer because I just flew in from Germany and boy were my arms tired. All around me are rail-thin Brits in uniforms chatting about ‘jolly good shows’ and Piccadilly circus and all that. But I don’t care because I’m tired and I just want to drink my beer and get some sleep.
“So I’m right about to leave when a Brit skirt walks into the bar. And boy, she is a looker. She’s even got a general holding her arm and everything, so of course everybody has to stand up and salute (and even though she wearing one of those flat-chested khaki skirt uniforms, I stand up and salute in more ways than one, if you know what I mean).
“She sits at the table next to mine and starts chatting the general up. I can smell her perfume that smells like flowers and I can look over and see the pearl necklace hanging around her lily-white neck. But I’m a gentleman – yeah, you heard me – so I decided I’m going play it cool and order another beer and see what happens.
“Then she starts talking about airplanes. From the sound of it, she’s in charge of rounding up air transport for something big and the general is in charge of something big that needs transporting. Of course, the waiter in this bar is a regular Joe, and he knows that (a) I’m an expert on air transportation technology; and (b) I’d really love to score with this broad. So in five minutes flat he’s got me over to their table and yammerin’ away about fuel compression ratios and air speed velocities.
“The tip? The general’s buying the booze so I gave the waiter a fifty. Trust me, it was worth it.
“The crux of the problem, she tells me, is this: they have to get ten thousand pounds worth of oil drilling equipment from Cairo to Tehran in forty-eight hours or they’re going to be out millions of pounds. They’d been arguing back and forth all day about how many planes could do it in how many trips and whether or not it would be better to stop in Baghdad or Petra for refueling and which way do the air currents blow over the Middle East anyway? They were talking about fleets of airplanes, and there weren’t enough planes in the whole British Empire – not back then in 1919 – to pull that off.
“I knew right then and there that I was going to land this broad because I had something bigger than anything she had ever seen before (and I had a plane too, if you know what I mean).
“So I tell her ‘What if I told you that I could get your ten thousand pounds of oil rig from here to Tehran in nine hours non-stop?’ And she gets that look in her eye – you know, that look – and she asks how that is possible. So I drop the magic word on her and tell her, ‘Because my plane is a turbo.’ And I soon as I say it, the whole place goes quiet, and I could have sworn she got her panties in a knot right there and then.
“This broad definitely could not resist the turbo, so me and her have to drive all the way down to the hanger alone just so she can see the thing close-up. And when she sees the world’s biggest airplane with the world’s most powerful turboprop jet engine mounted in the fuselage, her lights just blank right out and she goes into a trance.
“You’re telling me you never heard of a jet engine? Well, back then I hadn’t either. Planes during the War all had little put-put linear or rotary stroke engines. Heck, my old lady was still motoring around in a little put-put model-T that my old man bought her for her birthday. But me, I saved this German engineer’s life in the War, see, so to repay me, he tells me about this new motor design that the German High Command never heard of before. Since I’m sharp for things like that, I tell him I’ll front the cash if he can build the engine and we’ll go in fifty-fifty from then on. A hundred poker games later, I’ve got the cash and he’s got an engine that, quote ‘has more thrust than the entire British Air Force’, unquote.
“What’s that? You don’t believe she’d blank out over this. Of course she’s going to blank out when she sees it. Almost everybody does, because this is turbojet power we’re talking about. You can’t believe the spine-tingling level of energy that this baby puts out per second per second. I’ve been there a dozen times, and when I open the throttle on that thing, hell, I feel like a schoolgirl getting felt up on her first date.
“Back to the story. It’s the middle of the night and I’m an American alone in a hangar with an enthralled British bombshell in an Army uniform. So I decide I’m going to give her ‘the Treatment’ because, those Brit girls have to know we Americans mean business, right? First I tell her to strip naked, right out in the open, and she does it. Va-va-va-voom. Then I march her into the plane and show her the cockpit, and she’s so happy she’s dripping wet going down her legs. Then, to top it all off, I order her to crawl out onto the turboprop so I can turn the motor over with her straddling it. So there she is, buck naked with five thousand pounds of the most powerful airplane engine on earth sitting between her legs, and one turn of the key and she goes wild. Her tits are flying through the air and she’s practically humping the thing, she’s so happy. After a while, she gets tired of playing with her tits and she presses her chest up against the thing to hang on. I let her stay out there for half an hour just to let her soak up the vibrations from the engine so she can get herself off nice and good.
“She told me later that she had one continuous orgasm that felt like hours, and from what I saw, I could believe it.
“Now it gets even better. Just hear me out. The next day, she’s comes by like nothing had happened the night before and she starts ordering a bunch of Brit soldiers around to unload three or four trucks worth of big pieces of metal. These look like disassembled oil derricks and about a hundred feet or so of iron pipe – everything you’d need to build two or three oil wells on any spot on earth. But the last thing that goes into the back of the plane is this big wooden crate. I ask the broad about it and she says it’s something new that can pull more oil out of the ground than anything going. I never heard of that before, but on the other hand, they had to be desperate to get to Tehran for some reason, right?
“So after we get the cargo hatch closed and those Brit soldiers are milling around waiting for us to take off, another car pulls up and it’s the broad’s sister driving. Now both the broad and her sister want to fly with me to Tehran.
“Naturally, I’m ok with this. The sky gets pretty lonely after nine hours in the air. But first, I tell them I have to do the flight check and make sure all of their equipment is balanced in the cargo hold. Big mistake. Like I said, broads can’t resist the turbo. Half-an-hour later I pop into the cockpit and there they are, both of them naked and grinding up against each other. The sister is sitting in my flight chair while the original broad was wearing my captain’s cap and straddling her own sister from above. They were touching their breasts together, licking their nipples and giving each other little kisses, and the whole time they’re grinding their woman parts up against each other. By the time I got up there, they were glistening with sweat and just super hot and bothered.
“I tell you, I ain’t ever seen that before. It was absolutely mind-blowing. I almost shot my load right there, if you know what I mean.
“But hey, if they’re not screwing me, there’s something wrong with this picture. So I coughed out loud a bit and they stop screwing and try to play all innocent. But I don’t let them. So as I punishment, I tie the one broad’s arms off to the bulkhead D-rings on the cockpit ceiling and her legs off to the D-rings on the floor and I tell her she has to spend the whole flight naked watching me fly (although I let her wear the cap the whole time). Then I set her sister right up on the instrument panel so the whole ground crew and everybody can see and I screw her right there and then.
“So there I am, plunging it into this broad, and I think to myself ‘Maybe this lesbian thing ain’t so bad after all.’ You know, her sister gets her worked up and ready to go, and then I swoop in and finish her off. And then just as I’m about to get everything all sticky, I trip the switch to the starter block and the broad goes wild in my arms. Pretty soon she’s got me on my back on the cockpit floor with my dick in her mouth. I just lie there letting the pleasure roll, and the whole time I’m looking up into her sister’s eyes as she watches us.
“That Brit broad was the best sex of my life, and I still couldn’t believe that I had nine more hours of this to go. I’m telling you, the broads can’t resist the turbo!”