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================================================================================
From: broker6@ix.netcom.com(Richard J. Budig )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Flight to Heaven 1/2
Date: 29 Dec 1995 01:33:39 GMT
Message-ID: <4bvghj$mq7@cloner2.ix.netcom.com>


Well, here goes . . . I'll try to post this story again.  However, it
will have to be in two parts.  I'm told my funky provider -- Netcom --
only allows 3,000 words at a time.  Bummer.  So, I'll post the
otherhalf as same title, 2/2.  Let me know if you like this story . . .
or if you don't.  Enjoy.

FLIGHT TO HEAVEN
by
Richard J. Budig
Jack glanced at his mother-in-law's legs . . . again.
He tried to stop himself, but it was too late.  His eyes were already
roaming her curvaceous thighs as they slid deliciously out of the tan
hiking shorts she wore.
	"Damn," he cursed himself, pressing his lips together, "I
promised myself I wouldn't look again . . . she's going think I'm
weird.  But she's such a good lookin' old broad . . . ."
	As he thought this, he felt a familiar, but disturbing rousing in
his groin.  Disturbing because it was his motherin-law he was getting
aroused over, and because he, too, wore a pair of tan hiking shorts,
much like hers.
  His muscular thighs somehow caused the legs of the shorts to ride up.
 He wasn't wearing undershorts, so if he even got half an erection, he
was afraid the head of his cock would pop out the leg-hole and she
would see i
t.
	That was the last thing Jack remembered before the engine on the
little aircraft began coughing.  Suddenly, that good looking set of
legs on a women easily twice his age -- who, by the way, looked a lot
younger --  seeme
d not so important.
	Suddenly, all of Jack's survival flight training kicked in -- 
wings level, trim for best rate of descent, look for landmarks and look
for a place to land . . . and, get on the radio and start calling out
your position.
	Actually, when he caught his breath -- somewhere in between
looking for landmarks and getting on the radio -- he realized they
weren't in too bad a shape.
	They were only 40 to 50 miles from their destination, a small
town on the eastern edge of Nevada.  The country was flat, but
desolate.  Jack realized that even if he couldn't restart the now dead
engine, they were not in
 imminent danger.  He could probably land the airplane anywhere down
there without trouble.  If push came to shove, they could walk out.  It
would take two or three days if they couldn't find help, but that beat
the alter
native, he smiled grimly, and picked up the airplane's mic and began
broadcasting his last known position and, since there was no time to
dillydally over a map, their now-supposed position.
At last, he worked his way to the end of his survival
checklist and, having picked the place he planned to put the craft
down, found he had time to look around inside the cockpit.  Much to his
surprise, his racing eyes almost bumped into his good looking
mother-in-law.  She 
sat stiffly beside him, bolt upright, both hands shoved between her
legs as though holding her pussy, but in a frantic sort of way. 
Their eyes met.  For one brief instant, Jack read
terror in her eyes.  But, then, to his relief and her credit, her eyes
seemed to smile and he heard her say, quietly since the engine was now
completely dead, "Sorry, Jack, but when I get frightened, I have to pee
 . . a
nd I'm really frightened!"
It was just what they both needed.  A touch of truth,
and lightness in a situation that could have been grim. Jack knew he
was taking precious time from the business at hand, but he exchanged a
quick chuckle with Mary before
 turning his attention back to the job of putting the little plane down
on the flat piece of ground he had selected. 
It was just as he thought . . . a piece of cake.  The
little craft rolled to a stop with room to spare.  It was then that
Jack realized how tense he had become.  He let out a big breath, and
then, thinking he would needle his motherin-law, he grabbed his groin,
and moaned, "
Oooooo, I have to pee."
	Mary got it and they both laughed.
They sat a spell, both collecting their thoughts and
letting their pulse rates slide back toward normal.  At length, Jack
spoke.
	"Well . . . we need to do a couple of things  . . ." he said,
halting as though thinking, ". . . and then . . . and then	. . . ."
	"What ARE we going to do, Jack?" Mary interrupted, raising one
hand to partially cover her mouth, and keeping the other hand squeezed
tightly over her crotch.
Jack thought another minute in silence, and then laid
it out for her.
Basically, he said, it's simple.  Martial your
resources, and then wait.
	"That's it?" she asked.  "That's all we going to do???" She said,
incredulous.
	"Yes . . . for now.  We wait," Jack said, explaining about his
calls on the radio.  If anyone heard, they would begin searching
immediately.  Of course, there were so few airports with their radios
on out here in the boo
ndocks, he said, that it was possible no one had heard him.  And, it
was late afternoon.  Too late to go scouting on foot.  And, he assured
her, there was no need.  The aircraft was intact. If no one had heard
them, he wo
uld simply use the airplane's radio to raise a passing aircraft later
this afternoon, or sometime during the night, or surely by tomorrow
morning. So, all they had to do was stay with the aircraft.  It would
be noticeable
 from the air.  "When they find the airplane, they'll find us," he
said.  "Also, if we're out here past dark, when no one at home hears
from us they'll start calling and find out we didn't arrive.  One way
or another, som
eone will be out looking for us soon," he assured Mary. 
And, since he flew regularly over this sparse country
checking his land developments, Jack explained that he always carried a
few gallons of water, dried food, and a few other things like blankets,
just in case.  "This isn't going to be like eating at your favorite
restauran
t, but we'll survive,"  he smiled, adding, "besides, we're alive.
Could've been worse, ya know."  He said it in a reassuring way, and as
he said it, he patted Mary on the leg as if to reinforce his words.  
When he did th
at, he tried not to recoil, but it took almost all his remaining energy
not to react..  When he touched her leg, it was as though he had just
received an electric shock.  A tiny jolt, like some kind of energy,
seemed to b
olt through is body.  He quickly withdrew his hand and, reaching across
her, opened the cabin door.  "Let's get out and take a look at where we
are," he smiled.
Jack busied himself with tying down the aircraft, and
then opened the cowling so he could look at the engine. While checking
through the access door, Jack watched Mary out of the corner of his
eye.  She was a very attractive lady.  She wasn't tall, only 5' 1" or
so, but she 
had dynamite legs, and the sweetest little breasts he'd ever laid eyes
on.  It heartened him because he had heard somewhere that if you wanted
to know what your wife would look like in later life, just look at your
mother
-in-law. Every time Jack looked at Mary, he felt something in his
pants stir, and it made him happy, thinking that his wife might hold
her looks as well as Mary.
	"Find anything," came a voice from behind him.  Jack turned to
see Mary standing with her hand still pressed to her crotch.  With most
of the tension of the emergency landing behind him, Jack found himself 
snickering al
most out loud at the sight of this good looking, mature woman groping
her crotch like a child.
"No . . . probably a clogged fuel line," he chuckled,
adding, "What'sa matter . . . still gotta go?"
Mary smiled back and put both hands between her legs.
"Yeeeessssss," she squealed.
"Well, come on, then.  Let's see what we can find.  I
noticed a small canyon and some rocks over there as we landed," he
said, pointing off to the side.
	Just as he said, there was a depression some yards away with
rocks and trees.
	"You go behind those rocks, and I'll use these trees," he said. 
He felt she would be okay with that . . . the both of them peeing in
such close proximity to each other.  For one thing, in the few years he
had known his 
mother-in-law, he had found her to be not only beautiful, but a bit of
an adventuress.  She had been divorced for several years, which meant
she had only herself to think about.  She spent time going off on white
water ra
fting trips, overnight hikes alone.  Many was the time they had talked
away the night about her adventures, plus fun stuff like "when was your
first time, and where" . . . whatever came to mind. Frankly, Jack was
as impre
ssed with his mother-in-law as he was the broadminded daughter she had
raised and then turned over to him.  Jack figured he had gotten to know
Mary well enough that taking a leak, under cover, ten yards apart was
okay, es
pecially since they had just cheated death together. 
Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline that so filled
Jack's bladder, but it seemed he had been peeing for several minutes
when he heard a long, low wolf-whistle coming from behind him.  Craning
his neck, he looked over his shoulder while still holding his cock and
trying to
 direct his diminishing stream of urine on the tree in front of him.
There, not ten feet away, stood Mary, her lips puckered into a whistle,
and an coy, almost evil grin on her face.
"My . . . my . . . what a man you are . . ." and she
whistled again.
	Jack's first thought was to stuff his meat back into his pants,
but he knew it was too late for that.  Besides, he reasoned, she's not
seeing anything she hasn't seen before, and perhaps this is just
another way for her 
to relieve the tension.  Jack finished, and then, almost as if he had
been dared, he turned slightly so she could see it all, and shook it .
 . actually waved it around . . . before putting it away.  Hell, he
thought, if
 she's going to creep up on me like that, she'll have to look at it or
turn her back and keep her distance.
But Mary didn't move away, or turn her head.  She
uttered not a sound, and the look on her face reflected approval.  Jack
stuffed his now enlarging cock back into his shorts, while a tingle of
wonder and worry flashed up his spine.
	"Come on," he said.  "It'll be dark soon and I want to check a
couple more things before we lose the light.
Back at the aircraft, Jack puttered around under the
engine cowling for several more minutes.  Finally, he snapped the
cowling cover back in place and muttered a curse.
	"What is it, Jack?"  Mary asked.
"Oh . . . I thought maybe I could get it running but
the fuel line seems clogged."  After staring at the airplane, as though
that would help start the engine, Jack said, "Well . . . let's get some
of that gear and make camp. We're likely to be here all night.  Why
don't you
 pull that bag out of the back seat.  It'll start cooling off pretty
soon.  I'll drain some gas so we can start a fire."
	Both went about their assigned jobs until Jack let out a yelp.
"Jack?  You okay?" Mary called into the gathering dusk. "Yeah . . .
yeah.  Damn!  I spilled gas on my shorts.
It's aviation fuel.  It really burns . . . ."  Jack sat the gas can
down, and headed off to collect some dead wood he had spotted while
taking a leak.  When he returned, he laid the fire, and then, backing
off, asked Mary
 to start it. 
"I've got so much gas on me I'm afraid to strike a
match," Jack laughed, rubbing himself.  "Damn," he muttered, "it really
burns."
	"Oh, for goodness sake, Jack," Mary said, why don't you take your
shorts off . . . hang 'em up . . . let the gas evaporate."
"Naw . . . that's okay," Jack said, looking away.
	"Oh, come on, Jack.  I'm an old lady.  Think I've never seen a
man in his drawers?" Mary said.  She sounded sincere. 
"That's not it . . ." Jack said slowly.
	"Well, then, what is it, Jack," Mary persisted.  By then she was
standing between him and the flickering fire, which outlined her in a
halo of gold-orange light.  Jack was struck with her figure, and with
how much she wa
s built like his wife . . . her daughter.  In this light, she looked
very much like a well-built thirty-year-old woman, not the 55year-old
she was.  Her skin was still taught, her legs were shapely,  and her
breasts, alth
ough small, were perky, and, because he had managed a secret peek now
and then over the last five years, he knew her breasts ended in nipples
that had a distinct protruding effect, something that made him hot
every time h
e thought about it.
	"Well . . . Mary  . . . I  . . . I'm not wearing any . . .
underpants," he said at last, dropping his head.  He kept his head
lowered, but raised his eyes for just a quick look.  He wasn't sure,
but he thought he caught 
a flicker of . . . of . . . of what? in Mary's eyes.  Naw, he thought
at last.  It's just the effects of the adrenaline wearing off, and of
the firelight, he told himself.
	"Now, look here, Jack," Mary said, and she launched into a
lengthy, one-sided discussion/argument dealing which why Jack should
shuck his shorts.  We're friends, we're related, we're adults, this is
an emergency . . . th
e list seemed endless to Jack, and the truth was, it sounded to Jack
like a great excuse to get naked, to show his stuff to a lady who had
occupied more than one fantasy he'd let play out in his mind over the
last few yea
rs.  At last, Mary said, ". . . so I'll get the blanket.  You can use
that while you shorts air out . . . okay?"
	Jack pretended to think about it before nodding assent. Mary held
the blanket, none too high, Jack thought as he stepped out of his
shorts. At that, Mary wrapped the blanket around his waist.  Jack
noticed how terrific s
he smelled as her arms slipped around his waist.  Almost instantly, as
her arms, swinging the blanket in place, closed around him, his cock
began growing.  Thank God for the blanket, he thought. 
The next hour or so was spent taking care of loose ends
around camp, eating not-so-yummy things, and talking about the fact
that no one had flown over.  Apparently, Jack said, no one had heard
his calls.
"But, there's tomorrow," he assured, squirming under
the blanket.
 "Is it still bothering you, Jack?" Mary asked. "Oh. . . a little" Jack
groaned.  Actually, he was
fighting a hard-on, but . . . a little sympathy wouldn't hurt, he
thought, and who knows where it might lead? 
"Listen, Jack," Mary said, "we have several gallons of
water.  Let me wet a rag and see to that gasoline burn," and, without
warning, she peeled back the blanket, saying, "Let me look at that."
	Jack was unprepared for her quick move, and he suddenly found
himself naked from the waist down, his thickening, growing cock exposed
to the night sky and dancing firelight as his mother-in-law got down on
her knees and 
peered at his crotch.
	"Here," she directed, touching him on one hip, "turn this way so
I can see."  She positioned Jack so more of the light from the small
fire fell on his lap.  "Well . . ." she mused, "it doesn't . . . look .
 . so bad.  H
ow does it feel?"
	"It burns . . . a little," he said, still squirming because his
damned cock seemed to have a mind of it's own. It continued to grow,
slowly, to be sure, but grow it did. 
"Where? . . ." she said, reaching out.  She touched him
gently on the inside of his leg, just to the side of his cock.
	Again, Jack received the same little jolt of energy he felt
earlier.  He was surprised, too, at how soft was her touch, how cool
her fingers felt, and how, though he willed it not to, it caused his
cock to stir . . . not
iceably. 
"Why, Jack," Mary said, a small smile playing on her
lips, "just be still for a minute or two and let me see whether I can
make that feel better."
	Mary dipped an old wash cloth in water, rung it out and began
blotting the reddened area beside Jack's cock.  She dibbed and dabbed
almost too long, Jack thought.  Then, as before, without warning, she
used her free hand
 to move Jack's cock, as though it were in the way.  The coolness of
the water on the cloth helped Jack keep his hardening cock down to a
kind of limp, arching thing, but when Mary touched it, it was all over.
 It grew no
ticeably.  Still, Mary proceeded as though nothing untoward were
happening.  Jack wondered whether he was going crazy.  How could she
not notice, he wondered.  Oh well . . . it seemed to be her game, and
he decided he'd p
lay it her way.
                      ------------------------------

The other half should be around here somewhere.  Titled Flight to
Heaven 2/2.

================================================================================
From: broker6@ix.netcom.com(Richard J. Budig )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Flight To Heaven 2/2
Date: 29 Dec 1995 01:38:29 GMT
Message-ID: <4bvgql$708@ixnews2.ix.netcom.com>



Well, I think I managed to sneak this story out to this group by
breaking in two parts.  Netcom only allows around 3,000 words at a
time.  Feedback will be welcome.  Thanks.

                        ----------------------

Flight to heaven part 2:

	Mary dabbed away, and, to Jack's surprise, the area of the burn
began feeling better, but it was hard to notice with his cock growing
like a wild thing.
	"There . . . how's that?" she asked.
	Jack wished she would continue, but . . . .
	"Fine," he choked.  "Just fine."
"Well, let me tidy up a bit," Mary said, "and then, I
think we ought to turn in."
	Jack thought she meant she would tidy up the campsite, but to his
surprise, Mary sat on her haunches and began unbuttoning her blouse. 
She rang out the wash cloth in fresh water and began sponging her upper
body.  It wa
s as though Jack wasn't there.
	She dabbed daintily at her arm pits, and ran the cloth over the
back of her neck.  Then, reaching between her sweet little boobs, she
unhooked her bra and let it fall off her shoulders.
The sight was more than Jack could bear.  Her breasts
were firm with nipples just as he had imagined them . . . pointy little
raspberries sitting atop a brownish swelling that protruded from her
breasts.  His cock began behaving as though it were an entity unto
itself.  It b
ecame rigid, and then, slowly it became so stiff it was almost painful.
	But she didn't seem to mind that he was only feet from her,
watching, so he laid there, taking it in.
	He could see how firm her breasts were when she brought the damp
cloth swooping down beneath them as she washed. When she did this, the
entire breast moved, as though it were hard.  Who knows, he thought,
maybe her breas
ts get hard like my cock.
She was still sitting on her heels when she dipped,
rinsed and wrung out the cloth again.  She carefully laid the cloth
aside, and, to Jack utter surprise, she stood and undid the button on
her shorts.  The fly came open, one button at a time, revealing the
sweetest little
 belly Jack had ever seen.  It had that sensual, feminine pooch to it.
There was something about that little mound of a belly that tore Jack
up.
	In an totally unhurried way, she began sliding the shorts down
off her hips, which, to Jack's further surprise were the perfection of
femaleness -- slightly bony at the crest of the hip, descending
downward into a little
 hollow and then, the protruding hip/thigh bone, making her hips the
standard for female form.  As the shorts slid farther, Jack saw the
beginning of her tawny, brown pubic hair.  She stopped wiggling,
leaving her shorts 
hanging precariously on those wonderful hip bones with just the top
edge of her pussy hair showing.  She paid no attention to Jack, but
Jack noticed she seemed to smiling ever so slightly . . . as if to
herself.
She picked up the cloth again, and set about washing
her waist area, and her sweet little tummy.  She moved lower, repeated
bumping into the zipper of her shorts, which was drawn taught across
her hips.
	Finally, sighing as though she had struggled to make a decision,
she placed index fingers from both hands on the bunched up edge of her
shorts and began wiggling again.  Her shorts hung on as though they
didn't want to b
udge, and finally, they fell loose, slipping down her legs like an
express elevator heading for the basement.
	Jack felt his breath catch . . . his heart stop . . . his blood
pressure rise ten points.  All of Mary's sweetness and womanhood stood
before him, firelight dancing over her breasts, tummy, vulva, and legs.
 Her breasts 
had hard-ons, Jack was sure of that.  They stood our from her rib cage
like a 15-year-old's.  The little slope if her tummy rose and then fell
away toward her vulva, which, Jack believed, was almost dripping.  He
could se
e the moisture glistening in the firelight, twinkling out at him like
tiny beacons calling his ship home.
It was obvious to Jack that this was a turning point.
If things went farther, it would never be the same between them again
between them.  Did she really want to do this, he wondered.  He knew
she had been divorced for several years, and that she stayed pretty
close to home 
where other men were concerned.  He also knew that she got horny
because his wife -- her daughter -- mentioned it from time to time.
"But mom's particular," she had said.  "She won't just hop in bed with
anyone.  She prob
ably wants someone like you, Jack," she had said, adding, "She raised
me to be particular, too, and she completely approves of you as my
husband."  This subject, or something like it, had come up a couple of
other times, 
but Mary always struck Jack as so prim and proper that it never entered
his mind that something like this could happen.  But now, standing
before him was Miss Prim, Miss Proper, Miss Cool -- and she looked
anything but co
ol.  She looked "ready."  What to do . . . what to do???
Very deliberately, Mary dipped and wrung the cloth
again.  She took a small side step, causing her legs to open all the
way up.  Then, slowly, she began washing her pussy. She moved her now
puffy pussy lips around in all directions as she applied the rough
cloth.  She clo
sed her eyes and let her head fall backward slightly as she pushed the
cloth back toward her ass and then withdrew it slowly so that it
trailed out, slipping now and again between her lips, brushing her
clit.
	But she wasn't finished.  Using her free hand, she reached
delicately between her legs and, using her pretty fingers, spread her
lips so that her clit protruded straight out.  Gently, she brought the
wash cloth in direct
 contact with her clit, moving it in slow circles.  She began moving
her hips in little circles that went in the opposite direction.  Her
clit grew a deeper pink, and literally became blood-engorged and
swollen.  I stuck 
out like a tiny hard-on.
	She continued doing this while looking directly at Jack. It
wasn't one of those dreamy "girl-looks" you read about in magazines. 
It was one of those direct looks, a look that says, hey, this is me,
this is my pussy and 
I know it's beautiful and so do you.  Jack was impressed with her sense
of self.  It was obvious that she was happy to be who she was.  Her
breasts weren't the giant jugs you read about in guy-books, but they
didn't have 
to be.  She was so absolutely sure of herself that she'd look sexy
without tits.
	Well, what the hell, Jack thought.  I've certainly gotten a
message here, and I don't think I've got it wrong. With that, Jack
threw back his cover, revealing his raging hard-on.  His cock wasn't
one of those story-book 
cocks, either.  But it had a nice length and girth to it.  More than a
hand full, but not long enough to water the garden with.  Now, after
seeing this much, Jack's cock felt huge, stretched to it's limit.  The
corona was
 a deep red-purple, and the shaft pulsed like it had its own heart.
	Keeping his voice as calm as he could, Jack reached for the
cloth, saying, "I need a bath, too."
Mary smiled, re-dipped the cloth and handed it to Jack. Being careful
of his still tender spot, Jack began
washing.  He washed up the inside of his legs, paying careful attention
to his balls.  He picked up his sack with his free hand and placed his
balls into the damp cloth.  He massaged them gently, his cock literally
boundi
ng with each heartbeat.  Then, he transferred his attention to his
cock. Slowly, he washed it, up and down, twirling the cloth around the
engorged head.  Then up and around his flat, muscled stomach, and back
down to his 
purple cock.
"How's that?" he asked, laying the cloth aside.
	"Fine," she smiled, "but I think you missed a tiny spot . . .
here," she pointed, and then said, "Never mind . . . I'll get it for
you."
	She knelt beside Jack, who was still lying on the rumpled
blanket.  She took his cock in her hand, stroking it delicately up and
down, and then bent forward and began licking the tip of his cock.
	"Oh!  My mistake," she laughed.  "It was just a little cum . . .
mmmm . . . yummm . . ."
	And then she was on him, her mouth, hot, wet and slippery,
sliding up and down on his pulsing shaft, her tongue slithering around
his cock.   She made little slurping sounds, like a little girl eating
a lollipop.  She wr
ithed, slurped, slobbered and dripped saliva on his balls. She drew his
balls into her mouth and gently sucked them like a piece of candy. 
Slowly, but surely, the pressure inside his testicles grew, sending
waves of warn
ing to his
brain.
	Jack clenched his teeth and sucked in his breath.  She was
bringing him dangerously close to blowing his load, and he didn't want
that to happen just now.  The evening was young.  This was something he
had only dreamed o
f and he didn't want to end it so soon.  Hell, he'd go back to it as
soon as he could get it up again, he knew that, but it would ruin the
moment.  If he had learned anything, it was that even wild and woolly,
totally une
xpected sex, had its moment, and this was that moment.  Stopping in the
middle just wouldn't be cool.
	Jack touched Mary on the head, bringing her bobbing to a halt.
"My turn," he smiled, grateful to feel his climax
recede a couple of notches.
	He placed Mary on the blanket and spread her legs.   He kneeled
between them and began to massage her.  From her feet up to her breasts
and back again.  He worked on each leg, amazed at the muscle tone in
this lady.  The
n, her tummy, which was like her legs, toned and taut.  He drew little
circles around her breasts, and in a feather-light touch, brought his
fingers up her hard, pointy breasts to close on her hard little
raspberry nipple
s.
	She moved almost like a snake beneath his touch, writhing,
thrusting her hips forward so her wet slit caught the light of the moon
that was just sliding over the horizon.  Jack dragged his hands slowly
over her breasts, 
bringing them downward, over her little tummy until they met at her
moist V.  Gingerly, he began massaging each vaginal lip in opposite
directions so that as one rose, the other got pulled down.  Gently,
gently he rolled 
the puffy lips below his fingers, watching the inner lips of her vagina
slip and move against one another, occasionally making little slurping,
snapping wet sounds into the night sky. 
Jack lay between her legs, lowering his face into her
glistening crotch.  The scent of her almost made him lose his load
again.  It was a peculiar blend of deep musk and light, airy smells . .
 "Pussy," Jack thought . . . "definitely pussy," and he lowered his
mouth so that
 hovered just above her wet folds and hard clit.  He exhaled slowly,
directing a stream of hot, moist breath on her cunt-lips. Mary moaned
audibly.
"OhmyGodwhatwasthat?" she exhaled, all in one breath. Jack smiled to
himself, and flicked her clit with his
tongue.  Again, Mary jumped.  Jack lowered his mouth and sucked, gently
at first, and then harder until he had her lips, clit and vaginal folds
puckered by suction in his mouth.  He held all of her in his mouth by
suction
 while he let his tongue explore the folded flesh.  He found her clit
and began rolling it gently beneath his tongue.
	Mary moaned, and as Jack peeked over her little tummy, he saw her
eyes roll back in her head.  She closed her eyes and began pinching her
nipples . . . actually, she tweaked them with little tiny pinches,
making the litt
le raspberries go flat on one side, and then, pulling them upward, she
released them so her entire breast jiggled like the proverbial bowl of
jelly.
	Jack gently released his suction, allowing the folds of her
vaginal lips slip away, leaving her wet slit just below his tongue.  He
pushed and without effort, slipped his tongue inside her vagina.  He
began lapping like 
a dog.  It was so good.  Slightly salty, very creamy and ever so slick.
He could imagine his cock slipping into that pot of warmth and wetness,
and he had to think about something else before it was too late.
	He could feel her orgasm approaching, so he slowed and
then stopped.
	"Here," he directed, getting her to her knees.  He slipped into
her position,  and brought her over on top of him so she was straddling
his face.
	"I want all your sweet juices when you cum, Mary . . . "  and he
pulled her down to his mouth.
	She responded now, unable to stop.  She rocked back and forth,
fucking his mouth and tongue with her clit.  He could feel her clit
ride up over his extended tongue, and then back down again, all the
while, her slippery l
ips massaged either side of his mouth, and her sweet pussy juices
drained into his eager mouth.  Mary stopped her rocking motion,
replacing it with a frantic, hard back and forth motion.  It wasn't far
off, Jack could tel
l.
He reached up and grabbed her ass and helped her by
adding back pressure so she could really buck her hips and slam her
pussy into his mouth.
	"Oooohhhhh . . . Ja . . . Ja . . . ck . . . I'm . . . cu  . . .
cummmmmmmingggggggg!!!!  Ah!  Ah!  Oh, Go . . . d."
	Slowly, her rocking stopped, replaced by gentle muscular
contractions in her vagina.  Jack could feel them with his tongue,
which was still buried deep in her slurpy pussy.
She finally crumpled.  Jack caught her and helped her
slide down his body until his stiff cock fit exactly in the wet V of
her legs.
She lay, panting for several minutes, nibbling on his
ear and kissing him lightly on the lips.
	At length, she said, "Now . . . what is it pilots call that thing
they fly with . . . a joy stick?  Yes . . . Well, Mr. Pilot, it seems I
have a joy stick knocking on my door, and I plan to go flying  . . .
all night . .
 . all night, do you hear?"  She smiled, and reached between them until
she had his throbbing cock in her little hands.  In one motion, she
raised her hips and guided his cock to the opening of her vagina.
	It was so hot that both of them gasped.
	"Oh, God," she said.
 	"Ahhh," Jack breathed.
	Slowly, deliberately, almost with malice, she lowered herself
down, allowing the feeling of that now splitting cock to slide inch by
inch inside of her wet womanhood. Jack felt her clit slip over every
engorged vein in h
is cock.  When she reached bottom, she arched her back, 
pressing her pussy lips against Jack's pubic bone, trying to seat his
cock another quarter inch deeper in her throbbing pussy.
They held that position for at least a full minute,
letting Jack's cock soak in her juices.  It was like applying lip balm
to chapped lips.  His cock had engorged with so much blood it felt as
though the skin on his shaft would split.  Soaking it in Mary's pussy
had the ef
fect of softening the skin, making it more pliable.
Then, like dance partners moving to their own music,
they began a slow, rhythmic set of motions in which Mary would hump and
grind against Jack's pubic bone, rubbing her clit hard, followed by
Jack withdrawing and then slowly pushing his cock back into her pussy
several tim
es.
Little by little, both began to stiffen, and soon, it
was obvious that neither was going to stop.  They breathed in unison,
ground together in unison, moaned in unison until that tiny flame burst
in the belly of each of them, spreading heat in all directions, until
without a
ctually being aware, both were bucking and fucking with great
explosions of Jack's cum searing Mary's hot, slippery
vagina.
	Mary stayed right where she was as Jack reached out and flipped
the blanket over them.  Both were so exhausted they fell asleep almost
immediately with Jack's cock still inside Mary.  They slept that way
until dawn when 
they were awakened by the sound of an aircraft overhead.
	Jack scrambled to the cockpit of his plane, flipped on the radio.
 He was talking to the pilot who flew overhead when Mary slid in beside
him, still wrapped in the blanket. She took his free hand and slid it
between her 
legs and smiled at him.
	"It's a guy I know from our home airport," Jack explained.  "Said
they heard us last night, but we must have gone down too quick to hear
them respond," he added.  "He's going to drop in here and pick us up in
a minute."
"Oh . . . shoot," Mary said, I hoped we would have to
spend the whole day.
"Does that mean you'll go flying with me again?" Jack
asked.  They both knew they weren't talking about flying. "Anytime,
Jack . . . anytime.  In fact, I fully expect
you to get me a little pair of gold wings when we get home. We'll have
a little party at the house tonight.  You can pin them on in front of
everyone . . . maybe make me your official partner in all future crash
landings 
 . . ."  she smiled.
	Jack smiled back, picked up the mic, radioed his buddy. "Can you
hurry it up," he said to the pilot orbiting overhead, "I have to get to
a jewelry store before the day is over."  He squeezed Mary's pussy,
which was begin
ning to mist again.
	"What???" came the reply from above.
Jack and Mary looked at each other and laughed.
		30-30

