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A while ago, in between wives, I winged my way around Texas, hopping about in my little Grumman Cheetah the way I used to do on my motorcycle.
I landed to refuel at a little airport not far from Killeen. The woman behind the counter was… Well, she wasn’t young. Not that I have anything at all against young women. My right seat had carried a number of adorable little butts in it. This adorable butt was older than mine by a decade. Mid-fifties I would guess, and tightly clad in perfectly creased Wranglers. She was exquisite. She had gray-gold hair with eyes to match, and for a long moment those eyes were all I could see.
Besides her Wranglers she wore a chambray shirt with the collar up to frame her pearl earrings. She wore boots and a wonderful knowing smile and all that was in between was very nicely arranged. When I could speak I asked to have my tanks topped off. She said something to somebody on a radio, then turned back to me. “Hundred octane low-lead?”
“Please.” I said.
She spoke again, then returned to the counter. “Going somewhere exciting?”
“Everywhere I go is exciting.” I said.
“What’s exciting about this place?” She asked.
“So far? You.” It earned a blush and a shy downward glace from those gorgeous eyes.
As if to deflect my attention away from her she pointed to the young lad who had pulled the fuel truck up beside my airplane. “That’s my grandson.” She said.
“I can see where he got his good looks.” I said. I sort of backed away, figuring she was getting embarrassed by my open-faced interest in her. I went to the weather counter and looked at the forecasts for South Texas. When I was finished she leaned against the counter and shoved a cup of coffee at me. “I’ve never flown in a Grumman.” She said.
“They’re a cut above almost anything else.” I said. “I’m not going anywhere in particular. If you’d like to see how they are…”
“I would love to. My relief guy is coming in about fifteen minutes if you don’t mind waiting.”
We chatted as we waited. Her name was Ellen. She was divorced. She had two children. Her son owned this airport facility. His son refueled the planes. She was a pilot but had let her medical certificate expire because she couldn’t afford to fly solo any more. Besides, she got bored in the air by herself.
Her grandson called her on the radio. “Forty two dollars.” She said to me. I put two twenties and two ones on the counter. Her relief guy came in. “I’m going up in that Grumman.” She told him. “Nothing else is happening.”
Leap to five thousand feet in the Grumman. She has the controls and has just remarked at how gently the plane flies, and how sweet are the controls. She tells me about an abandoned air strip about fifty miles west. “If you’re not doing anything particular, maybe you’d like to check it out. It’s great for touch-and-goes.” She said.
Fifty miles and three touch-and-go landings further west and she says “That hangar is abandoned. It’s fun to explore. Want to see it?”
I let her land the plane and she taxied up to the hangar and we got out. She pulled me by the hand to a side door, akyurt escort screeched it open, and we entered the old building. It’s metal support structure was covered with rust, the floor was oil stained, and there were still old oil cans and old airplane tires lying about. “I come here once in awhile.” She told me. “My dad used to bring me here when I was a kid. The Army still used it then. I’ve seen P-38’s, Mustangs, Thunderbolts and even an Aircobra take off and land here. When it shut down, my dad bought it and used it for a cropduster base for awhile. He left it to me and I gave it to my son. It’s too far out in the middle of nowhere to be a useful refueling place, though.” She kicked an old tire. “But it’s fun to come to because nobody ever comes here.” She turned and her eyes invited me to kiss her. When I did, she kissed back. “Maybe you’d like to see the office.” She said after the kiss.
The office was cleaner than I expected. It had an antique refrigerator, an old wooden government desk, a leather covered sofa and some chairs. “That’s me.” She said, nodding toward a calendar on the wall. “I was eighteen then.” She pointed to the picture of a delicious little blond in tight shorts bending over the wing of an old Stearman biplane. The date read “December, 1948 . “I was a slut in those days.” She went to the refrigerator and took two cans of soda from it. She gave me one and popped the top on the other. “I still am. You can undress me if you’d like. It’s more fun to explore if you’re naked.”
We finished exploring the hangar wearing nothing but our boots. Not that I saw much besides her. She had kept her body through the years, and it was a delight to study. And she wasn’t shy about letting me explore her as well as the hangar. If I got distracted, she would regain my attention with a gentle grip on my cock. We went to the big door of the hangar and she pressed a button and the door opened and filled the old space with sunlight. Then she led me to a place on the hangar floor. “The first time I ever got fucked was right here.” She said. “It was on the day the picture for the calendar was taken. The guy took other pictures that day, but those couldn’t go on a calendar in 1948. Lie down here, on your back.”
I did as she instructed. The cement floor was cool and a little dusty. She straddled me and guided my cock into her and then lay forward on me and we kissed. She pulled back. “Put your finger in my ass.” She whispered. I felt down, traced along the crease between her buttocks, found the puckered little button and pressed my finger into it. She moaned into my mouth and began to work her bottom quickly. Then, suddenly, almost without warning, our souls danced together through the skies. I felt my heartbeat race, and my entire body flooded itself with endorphins and dopamine, and my semen squirted into her in powerful surges. She sat upright and announced her coming in a melodic yodel that bounced and echoed off the metal rafters. She rocked herself for a long time, then descended and kissed my neck, my ear, my head. Then we lay still for awhile, letting the after-come eddy through ayaş escort us.
“You can take your finger out now.” She whispered. She yeeped when I did, then kissed me. “That was wonderful.” She said. “Too bad it couldn’t have been like that the first time. It was pretty messy then, but that’s exactly what the guy did. One finger in my ass, his cock in my pussy, sheer pain in my body, and he came much too soon.”
“I can’t blame him.” I said. “Do you come here often?”
“Was that meant as a pun?” She grinned. “Just once in awhile, when the right guy and the right plane and the right time all happen at once. Those showers still work if you don’t mind cold water. They’re really fun.”
It was a huge shower stall with ten shower heads in it. She turned them all on and we played like kids in a sprinkler. It was fun to watch her body as we dashed in and out. And once we had soaped up and gotten all lathery I discovered how deliciously anal she was. She turned off some of the showers and sat down and she showed me how to sit facing her. She crossed her legs over mine and slid her ass toward me, lay back, and lifted her hips and my cock slipped right into her ass. She yelped as her body adjusted, then sat up and put her arms around my neck and eased forward into my lap. I reached down and felt her sphincter where the skin was stretched tight around my cock. She pressed her cheek against mine and slowly gyrated her hips. “Can you come like this?” I asked.
“Not exactly, but when I get close to coming I’ll finish myself off with my fingers while you…” She didn’t finish telling me about it. Instead she just lay back and did it. That gave me the opportunity to see how my cock looked in her ass and it was nicely erotic. She controlled the movements by just moving her hips, and her ass alternately swallowed me up and squeezed me out. After a moment I said “I’m going to come.” Her hand went down to her pussy and she masturbated by holding her lips apart with one hand and vigorously massaging her clitoris with the other. For the second time we came together, and for the second time it seemed like we danced in an effervescent pool of endorphins and dopamine. When she had finished her orgasm her clitoris stuck out like a tiny pink cock with a pearl white tip. I touched it and she yelped. “Don’t touch ” She said, and she sat up and put her arms around me and I felt her anus squeeze my slowly softening cock out. She pulled me to the shower and washed us both with lots of soap.
The sun sank low on the horizon and it was soon too dark to explore without turning on lights. “Let’s fly some more.” She said. We went up to the office and gathered our clothes and she held hers in a bundle. “You’re not going to wear them?” I asked.
“No. Let’s fly naked. It’s a thrill.”
We climbed into the plane and tossed our bundled clothes behind the seat. I took off and gave her the controls and we flew up to five thousand feet and the air was so still we just floated beneath the stars. She was beautiful with the orange glow from the instrument panel on her naked skin. Once when she looked at me I could see ankara escort the reflection of a star in her eyes. She bent over and took my cock in her mouth and sucked. I was beyond another orgasm at the time, but that did not diminish the deliciously risky experience of her mouth there. After awhile she sat up and opened her legs and began to masturbate herself. “Do you know how to make zero gravity?” She asked.
“Climb to six thousand feet. Then give me zero gravity when I tell you.”
I climbed to six thousand as she worked her clitoris with her fingertips. I leveled off and waited. “Soon.” She said, reathlessly. “Soon. Soon. NOW!”
I raised the nose and cut the engine to idle and shoved the yoke forward and for about fifteen seconds we floated in the cabin in zero gravity. Her birdlike warble voiced the intense pleasure she felt. As I pulled gently out of the dive gravity returned and she sank backward in the seat, her legs apart, her fingers slowly working her clitoris and pink lips. Then she closed her knees tightly and lay her head against my arm.
I flew over Austin at two thousand feet and we both appreciated the beauty of the city at night. “Want to spend the night at my place?” I asked.
We landed at my home base airport. It was dark, and there was no one about. I had parked my car only fifty or so yards from my tie-down space. We grabbed our bundles, tied down the plane and dashed to the car, still naked. And we drove to my apartment like that. And we dashed up the stairs like that, and opened the door like that. And we had a drink like that, and petted on the sofa like that and when it was time we went to bed like that.
She lay with her bottom tucked into my stomach. I put my arm over her and pressed my face into the back of her neck and kissed and smelled her hair, her skin, her shoulders until we slept. Next morning we ate breakfast naked, and showered again, and made love again. We finally dressed and I flew her back to Killeen and she kissed me before she got out of the plane. I refueled and went back to get ready for my work week.
The next weekend I flew back there. “Is Ellen around?” I asked the man behind the counter. He grinned broadly. “You’ve flown with her I see.” He said. “Nah. She’s up in a T6 Texan with a guy. I don’t expect them back today.”
A surge of jealousy burbled through me as I waited for my plane to be refueled, and I took off and flew to the old airport. Sure enough, there was the T6 parked outside the hangar, and as I flew over I could see the huge hangar door open. They were naked of course. In spite of my feelings, I flew low past the door and wagged my wings and she waved back and blew me a kiss.
I never did get to fly with Ellen again. I saw many different planes parked in front of the old hanger whenever I flew over it. And soon there were other girls, and other air dates, and other lips and labia and breathless sighs and zero gravities. But deep in my heart there is a special old hangar, occupied by the beautiful half-century old body of a phenomenal woman. And once in awhile, when I’m out in the pasture and hear a plane go over, and I can tell by the engine that they are doing zero gravity. I take her memory out and dust it off and rerun it with the fondest affection. And I can taste her flavor and smell her hair and hear her beautifully melodic warble and feel her body floating next to me.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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