Message-ID: <12889eli$9807091915@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tonytony3@juno.com (anthony anthony) Subject: * tonytony3's Maria's Revenge (cheating, revenge) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19980709.085026.28098.8@m15.boston.juno.com> Message-ID: <19980709.084835.2727.2.tonytony3@juno.com> X-Mailer: Juno 1.49 X-Juno-Line-Breaks: 0-758 Message-ID: <19980709.084541.2727.0.tonytony3@juno.com> X-Status: Unsent X-Mailer: Juno 1.49 X-Status: Unsent X-Status: Unsent tonytony3's Maria's Revenge (cheating, revenge) “Go to Boston Center now, on 118.05” “Center on 118.05 for triple X-Ray.” I dialed the new frequency into COM 2, switched over to that radio, pressed the mike switch on the yoke, and reported in. It was the expected response. “Roger, X Ray cubed, radar contact.” Yeah, they saw me. What an unusual day. Just four hours ago I thought I’d be spending another night in Cleveland. Then, we had a breakthrough. If I’d be willing to accept an equity interest in the company, as well as a bit less money, they’d license my patent. “That way”, John explained, “we’d be sure you’d be around when we wanted you. You’d have a vested interest.” Damn right. It would make me truly independent, independent of my wife’s family for that matter, and we’d live ‘happily ever after’. Hey, I’m within a hundred miles of home! Fly the damn airplane, stop daydreaming, plan ahead. “Boston Center, Mooney six niner triple X Ray would like lower, please.” “Triple X, descend now to 7000 feet.” “Triple X out of 11 for 7.” Close the cowl flaps, pull an inch or so off the manifold pressure, trim a bit nose down. . . there it is, a 500 feet a minute descent. That’ll burn 8 minutes, and get me 24 miles closer. So, we signed the letter of intent. Our lawyers would see to the details. I made a quick call home, and told Maria I’d be home about 11 tonight. What a life! I called flight service: an Instrument Flight Rules plan would be needed: Rain and clouds and shit all the way. I filed a flight plan, ETD in an hour. John’s wife offered to drive me to the hotel, and then to the airport. You bet I accepted: a big mistake. She came up to the room with me, watched as I started to pack, went into the bathroom as I continued, and she came out, wearing only a towel, just as I finished filling my garment bag. “You’re in the big leagues, now, Al. Time for some big league perqs”, she said. Until then I was a faithful husband. But when she came closer to me, and my arms automatically went around her, and felt the towel on her back. The towel opened, and I touched her skin. Then only our bodies close together held the towel up, and I saw, in the mirror, her nude back, her naked ass, and those wonderful legs, and she said “Don’t you like me?”, and stepped away, and then the towel was gone, and her breasts were as lovely as her legs, and her waist was so slender, and her hips, and her figure, and. . . and I couldn’t resist. She drove me wild, and then drove me to the Burke Lakefront airport, and drove out to the airplane to help keep me dry, and then, after preflight she climbed into the cockpit with me to “Tuck me in”, and I was never sucked off like that before. I’ll have to change my night time pre-start check list. Let’s see, right after “verify gear switch is set to down” I’ll add “Extinguish all interior lights, position pilot seat fully aft, undo pants, have passenger test alternate joy stick for freedom of movement and lick-off”, and. . . I could still smell her, still feel her mouth, feel the sensation of that first penetration. And, I missed my scheduled ETD by only a half hour! A life changing half hour. I don’t want to be an unfaithful husband, as great as that sex was. I won’t let it happen again. Back to the real world. I had to call home. I pushed one side of the headset off, pulled out the cellular phone, and called. There’s never a problem with cell phone connections when you’re a mile and a half up in the sky. “Maria, I’m 20 minutes out. Will you pick me up?” “Sure, Al: be careful, viz is awful, it’s windy, and dark, and raining. I’ll see you soon.” Maria’s a pilot, too. More than that, she went through the bother to become a CFII: she was licensed to teach, including flying on instruments. ATIS, the automatic briefing broadcast, confirmed what Maria reported. 300 feet ceiling, a mile visibility, winds 140 degrees at 23 gusts to 35. It would mean flying the approach to near minimums: as low as I care to go. Then, I’d have to fly the airplane onto the ground in those cross winds. There’d be nothing subtle about this landing. “Triple X, continue decent to 3000.” “X’s is out of 8 for 3.” As expected, a few minutes later, the next hand-off: ”Triple X, Boston Approach now, 122.25.” “Twenty two, twenty five for X cubed. See Ya.” I twisted in the new freq on COM 1, switched radios, and made the call. “Approach, Mooney six niner triple X Ray out of 5 for 3, with Hanscom information Bravo”, confirming I listened to the ATIS broadcast. “Triple X, radar contact. Continue decent to 2,500, expect an ILS to one one. Current ATIS information is Charlie.” -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----