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Standard disclaimers . . . this is fiction, if you're not old enough . .

Enjoy.  Comments welcome.



Flight to Heaven


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 mother-in-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 it.

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 -- 
seemed 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 alternative, he smiled grimly, and picked up the
airplane's mic and began broadcasting his last known position and, since
there was no time to dilly-dally 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 . . . and 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 mother-in-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
boondocks, 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 would 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, someone 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 restaurant, 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 that, 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 bolt 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' 3" 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 stir
in his pants, 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 
chuckling almost 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 rafting 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 impressed 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, especially 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 was built like his wife . . . her daughter.  In this light,
she looked very much like a well-built thirty-year-old woman, not the
45-year-old she was.  Her skin was still taught, her legs were shapely, 
and her breasts, although 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 he 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 . . . the 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 years.  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 she 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.  How 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 .
. . noticeably.

"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 the corner of a towel 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 noticeably.  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 play it her way.

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 towel in fresh water and began sponging her upper
body.  It was 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 became
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
breasts get hard like my cock.

She was still sitting on her heels when she dipped, rinsed and wrung out
the towel again.  She carefully laid it 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 budge, 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 see 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 -- Mary's daughter -- mentioned it from time to time.  "But
mom's particular," she had said.  "She won't just hop in bed with
anyone.  She probably 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 cool.  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 closed 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 bounding 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 writhed, 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 warning 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 of 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 unexpected 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. 
Then, 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 nipples.

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 into
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 little raspberries go flat on one side, and then, pulling
them upward, she released them so her entire breast jiggled like a lump
of Jello.

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 lips 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 tell.

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 his cock.  When he reached bottom, she arched her back,
pressing her pussy lips against Jack's pubic bone


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