A Steamy Night in Georgia

"Hartsfield ground, Learjet November two four six niner echo with you at Million Air, information Juliet, request taxi nine left, over."

Tori heard Wyatt's voice in her tiny headset, mimicking what she could hear from his lips only four feet away.

"Sixty-Nine Echo taxi via Alpha Seven to Foxtrot and hold." came another voice a few moments later.

"I hate having to hold! I want to get going!" said Wyatt to Tori, covering the little microphone on his headset and rolling his eyes a little with a grin.

The whine increased a little and the jet began rolling slowly at first, then it picked up speed a little as Wyatt maneuvered away from the ramp following the guidance of two men in coveralls with ping-pong paddles that had been painted bright orange. When they were clear of the ramp, Wyatt waved to them as they walked back to their earth-bound work.

"We'll be number three for take-off, behind a Delta triple seven and a Gulfstream Three." said Wyatt.

Tori had no idea what that meant but was very excited to be part of this fast paced world. Wyatt explained that runways are numbered and taxiways are lettered, helping her see the very well organized layout of pavement that helped large and small airplanes move in and out of Atlanta. She felt brakes stop the jet at an intersection marked "F" and Wyatt said "Six-niner echo holding at foxtrot." which she figured was his report that he had taxied to this place...wherever it was.

"Sixty-nine echo, taxi nine left and hold short." came another message as the plane turned and followed another jet about the same size as the one in which they were riding.

"That's the Gulfstream." said Wyatt. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Tori was amazed that men never seem to get enough toys in their life. There was a big Delta jet swiftly approaching them on the parallel runway in the opposite direction, and Tori felt a shiver as it rose above them in a loud rush of heated gases, knowing that from wherever it came is where she was going.

"Sixty-nine echo, taxi into position and hold." came the next instruction, and the jet swung left onto the runway.

Tori could see "9L" painted on the concrete in front of them.

"The runway number is its compass heading." explained Wyatt.

"We're pointed due east, at heading zero nine zero, or ninety degrees clockwise from north."

They sat there for about half a minute, then Tori heard "Sixty-nine echo cleared for take-off."

It took a few seconds for the jet to begin moving. There were dashed white lines down the center of the runway, like down the middle of a road, but Wyatt tracked down the middle of the runway straddling the center line as Tori laughed to herself at the thought, realizing there wouldn't be any traffic coming the other way. The acceleration pushed her back into the seat until she felt that her hair must be streaming straight back behind her, then she felt the nose of the airplane rise and looked out the window to see Georgia fall away beneath them. There were some noises and bumps she had heard on airline flights, knowing that the now-useless wheels were folding up inside the plane as it changed from a ground machine to a flying one.

"There's a 250 knot speed limit below 10,000 feet." Wyatt said as Tori developed an absurd picture of a radar cop on a motorcycle with a jet pulled over against a cloud to write a speeding ticket.

"We'll be above that in a few minutes and then we'll run her speed up to about 320 knots. Um, a 'knot' is one nautical mile per hour and a nautical mile is 6,000 feet. It was invented by sailors because it's easier to work with 6,000 feet in a mile, and 60 seconds in a minute. At cruise, we'll be doing about 450 miles per hour."

Tori thought about moving so fast, and enjoyed every part of it.

"How high will we be?" she asked Wyatt above the soft sounds of the engines behind them.

"I filed for 26,400 feet just for you." Wyatt replied.

"For me?" Tori asked quizzically. "Why?"

"You said you have never been part of the mile-high club but wondered about it," explained Wyatt. "Twenty-Six four is precisely five times 5,280 feet, or five miles above sea level. Perhaps there can be an initiation...."

"Great" thought Tori to herself. 'We'll be five miles above the ground at 450 miles an hour; there's just the two of us on this plane and he decides he wants sex. This should be something.' But Tori knew within herself that this amazing man would probably be able to pull it off somehow.

Her headset suddenly swam in words. "Sixty-nine echo Atlanta departure fourteen miles northeast at eight and climbing contact center on one three two point niner five radar service terminated good day."

Wyatt pressed a button on the radio and said "Memphis center November two four six niner echo with you at eight five over."

He told her that he had often thought about sending traffic controllers a bag full of punctuation for Christmas, and she grinned at the thought. She now realized that radio communications in aviation needed to be clear, precise, and as short as possible because of the tremendous amount of information to be delivered.

"I like to fly at night," said Wyatt. "Sometimes in the middle of the night the only traffic up here is FedEx and other freighters, and it reminds me of chatter on CB. Even though I really love to fly, it can get just as boring up here as it does sitting in your car following I-80 toward California on cruise control. We often chat with others on secondary frequencies to pass the time."

"Sixty-nine echo Memphis center squawk four two zero zero and ident."

Wyatt pressed a few buttons to enter the new numbers, and a few moments later Memphis said

"Sixty-nine echo radar contact. Change com frequency to one twenty-one point one."

Wyatt dialed the new numbers into the secondary communications radio window and pressed the microphone button to say "Memphis sector control, Learjet two four six niner echo with you, over."

After a few moments, a hearty voice replied "Hey, Peckerwood! Is that you buddy? You still owe me that hundred bucks from Dallas!"

Wyatt grinned into the microphone as Tori pondered the background of the nickname 'Peckerwood.'

Wyatt pressed the transmit button and said "Hey Joe! A hundred billion cubic miles of air in this country and I pick your ugly ones to fly through. It's been awhile!"

"Sure has, dude, and don't think your smooth talk will make me forget you still owe me. Listen: I see your flight plan has requested twenty-six point four. You doing some airwork today?"

Wyatt winked at Tori and said "Hope to induct a new member into the club, Joe, and I'd appreciate you being discreet about it, please."

"My lips are sealed, bud, you can count on me. Just change your squawk code to six niner zero zero and I won't say a word! Tori's headset was suddenly filed with peals of hearty laughter from the ground.

"Bastard," Wyatt muttered to himself as he tuned the new identifier code and pressed the ID button. He knew that the 6900 code would blossom on radar screens from New York to Dallas and on everything flying above eighteen thousand feet, and knew that controllers and aircrews would smile knowingly and make a mental note to track that white rocket as it sped up the northeast corridor of America precisely five miles high.

Chapter Eight

"The captain has turned off the 'fasten seat belts' sign." Wyatt said to Tori as the hurtling jet leveled off, controlled by the Autopilot.

She was glad to release the wide straps that held her shoulders back against the padded seat and move about a little more easily.

"Did you call your people in Presque Isle to meet you?" asked Wyatt.

"I did, but they wanted to know what flight I'd be on. I told them I didn't know and asked them to watch out for me sometime this evening. I know one of the guys up there from an earlier deal and he said he'll watch for me."

Wyatt looked over into Tori's deep brown eyes and said "Believe me, beautiful: They will know it when you arrive."

Tori enjoyed the view from the cockpit windows and it reminded her of waiting in line for the front car on a roller coaster at Cedar Point so that nothing would be in front of her to obstruct the view. She smiled within herself as she thought of that exciting day.

"Where are we?" she asked, and Wyatt punched a few buttons to cause a new image to show on the monitor in front of her. There was a small plus sign in the middle surrounded by rings, like a target, and there were dozens of red dots behind it. There was a green line extending above the plus, and a yellow line trailing behind.

"That's us." he explained, pointing at the plus sign. The green line is where we're going and the yellow line is where we've been."

He pressed a few more buttons and most of the red dots disappeared as jagged white lines took their place. Tori stared at the display for a moment, then realized that the jagged white lines were state boundaries, like looking at a large road atlas.

"The red dots are airports big enough for our emergency use if we need them." Wyatt continued.

Tori saw that the little plus sign was on a line along the boundary between Virginia and West Virginia, and looked out the window to compare the view. She could see the outline of the river far below and was pleased with her new knowledge and experiences. Other information on the display showed that their estimated time remaining was an hour and thirty-seven minutes, and Tori suddenly felt a hunger pang.

"Anything to eat on this airline?" she asked, and Wyatt smiled wide at her when he said

"A full menu awaits you in the aft cabin, Ma'am."

Tori released herself from the wide straps of the shoulder harness and with only a little bit of awkward difficulty got up and out of the right seat in the jet's cockpit. She stepped back into the little corridor aft of the cockpit and hung her jacket in the slim closet next to Wyatt's blazer. She took off her slingbacks and placed them in the closet, inspecting herself briefly in the full length mirror on the back of the closet door. With the little finger of her left hand she brushed back the persistent wisp of hair that seemed intent on being ornery and she considered taking a pair of scissors and cutting it off, banishing it from her face forever. The slinky, sleeveless shell she wore under her jacket traced her shapely body perfectly, drawing attention to the sensuous curves of her breasts without being ostentatious. "Elegant." was the word that formed in her mind as she examined herself. The jet was smaller than any of the airliners she had flown on, but it was very nice. It was more like a motor home than an airplane, and the solid smoothness of cruising more than 450 miles per hour seemed far away and distant. The powerful engines sent a soft whine through the aft cabin but was no louder than hearing a vacuum cleaner in a room down the hall. The thick, wall-to-wall carpet was light grey and felt good against her feet. Wyatt suddenly appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around her just below her breasts and nuzzled into her neck.

"I'm so glad things turned out this way, Babe." he whispered into her as he kissed her neck softly.

She placed her hands on his and leaned her head back against him. Her long silky hair brushed against his cheeks as they stood in the passageway between cabins, five miles above the earth.

"Austin," asked Tori. "Who's flying the plane?"

"Otto." replied Wyatt, turning her toward him and kissing her lips with determination.

Tori pushed him back away from her and nearly glared at him with flashing eyes.

"Who the hell is Otto?" she demanded, wondering if there were yet other crewmembers aboard that might suddenly appear to disperse her plans.

"It's the Autopilot, Sweet Lady." said Wyatt softly as he took her in his arms once more.

"The autopilot is so accurate that it can take this bird from startup to shutdown on the other side of the continent without my touching a thing. It's a lot better pilot that I will ever be. Besides, there's sixty billion dollars of American taxpayer money and every flier in two time zones watching us with envy."

Tori suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable at Wyatt's thought, like he were at a fine, exquisite restaurant and she would be the main course while ten thousand adoring fans cheered in the parking lot, yet the erotic thrill of potential discovery caused a warm glow to spread across her chest and she could feel her nipples swell and harden at the thought of being watched so powerfully from so great distance.

She reached out and loosened Wyatt's tie, then slid it from around his neck and wound it loosely around her own as a scarf. He placed his hands on the curve of her ass and lifted her toward him, kissing her powerfully and passionately. As their tongues met, Tori felt the surge of electricity connect the various systems of her body with her clitoris, which stiffened noticeably as the pleasurable sensations rippled through her. Carefully, she brought her hands between their chests and began unbuttoning his shirt as he felt behind her shoulders for the zipper of her moleskin grey shell. There began a faster, frenzied tangle of hands, fingers and arms as Victoria got Wyatt out of his shirt and he out of her shell. He pulled her tightly against his chest, and she enjoyed feeling the heat of his skin against her.

She wore a buff-colored seamless camisole that kissed against her breasts, uplifted by the camisole's transparent straps. Wyatt whistled softly as he admired her, and leaned forward to gently kiss the edges of her cleavage, then flicked his tongue along the ridge of camisole that separated breast from fabric. Tori leaned back against the forward bulkhead and stroked her fingers through his hair to caress the back of his neck. She stroked him as one might a faithful dog that gives his master much fond pleasure.

Wyatt reached up with both hands to cup her breasts in his hands, and blew his warm breath onto the place on the camisole under which her right nipple would be, which caused the nipple to harden immediately.

Wyatt suddenly moved her over to the seat on the starboard side, where she had sat upon first entering the jet. She sat down in the seat and was again enveloped in the buttery warmth of the soft grey leather upholstery. Wyatt unbuckled his belt and removed his slacks to be standing in front of her in red and blue Superman skivvies as he began a slow sensuous gyration around her in the seat.

She giggled at the thought of this man who repeatedly demonstrated his confidence and charm to her wearing Superman underpants! Her little brother used to wear Superman underpants, but seeing Wyatt's fully developed masculinity was no comparison to what she remembered of her little brother. She thought of her little brother once again and of how many times he ran around their house with a towel tied around his neck, wishing he could fly, and she was now being taken captive once again by a real, flying super man.

Wyatt pressed a button and music oozed from the entire cabin, surrounding them as was the shell in which they traveled. He wanted to dance for her, to excite and thrill her. He stood in front of her with his knees along the outsides of both her legs as he thrust his hips toward her face in unmistakable fucking motions. She unconsciously licked her lips as she focused her eyes on Superman's gyrating pouch. She reached up with her left hand and caressed his balls as he thrust toward her, and he obliged her pleasure by placing his arms against the back of the seat and leaning forward to kiss her lips gently. She enjoyed feeling his cock swell in the palm of her hand and she brought her right hand up and across the top of his bulging erection to caress his swelling penis from above, surrounding him in both hands as one might protect a trembling bird that had fallen from its nest.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm..." whispered Wyatt more powerfully as the pleasurable sensations flowed through him. He stood erect, then bent down and placed his hands on the waistband of her suit pants, drawing them off of her in a sinuously slow movement. Her buff bikini was held in place by the same transparent straps as her camisole, and Wyatt's nostrils flared and he inhaled sharply as he deliciously absorbed her loveliness. He knelt in front of her seat and placed his hands behind her, cupping the cheeks of her ass in both hands, and positioned his mouth directly over the quivering and steamy mound of her pussy.

He breathed his warm breath hard into her bikini and it flowed in a quick, sensational wave over her moist lips and along the insides of her thighs, warming her ass as the warm moist breath was dammed by the powerful hands holding onto her. Wyatt drew in a deep breath, drawing startlingly cold air over those same tender passages, which caused Tori to moan loudly at the pleasurable counterpoint playing out between her legs. He breathed out warm moist air and inhaled sharp cool air over her tunnel of delights, causing waves of pleasure to flow over her as he teased her with his simple acts of respiration. Her legs quivered as the tension of her pleasure flowed within her and Wyatt flicked out his tongue against the silky fabric separating them. Tori moaned again as she felt the stiff softness of his tongue press against her pulsating clit, and he teased his tongue along the edges of her moistening lips.

Wyatt stood up once again and pressed a button at the side of Tori's seat, reclining it to almost level as the footrest automatically extended from under the cushion. He then moved around behind her seat and released the locks that held the adjacent seat in place, and slid that seat back out of the way so that he could caress Tori's hair. He ran both hands through her hair, extending his fingers through the entire length of her strands, then returned to the center of her scalp to repeat the fluid movement once more. As his hands reached the ends of her hair, he brought them down and toward her, catching her breasts against the palms of his hands, and slowly dragged his palms across her nipples. On the next stroke, he bent forward a little more and caught the bottom edge of her camisole with his fingertips and tickled his fingers up across her belly to the underside of her breasts, taking the silky fabric along for the fun.

He bent forward again and kissed her lips gently from above her head, and Tori thrust her head forward to catch his lips for a deeper and more passionate entwinement. Wyatt leaned forward more and pulled on her right nipple with his lips, wetting the soft fabric with his saliva. Quickly, he pulled the camisole up and over Tori's head toward him and just as quickly replaced his hands on her breasts so quickly exposed. He tilted his hips toward her head a bit so his balls rested against the top of her head as he massaged her breasts, kneading her nipples between his thumbs and fingers. Tori turned her head to the right, trying to nuzzle her cheek against his Superman pouch, but was unable to reach back far enough. She pressed the recliner button and Wyatt's weight on the back of the seat tilted it back until her head was directly under his ass. Wyatt fell forward at the sudden and unexpected movement, and He caught himself with the palms of his hands alongside Tori's thighs. He reached behind her ass and caught the transparent straps of her bikini, pulling them down to her knees as Tori slid her hands into the elastic waistband of Wyatt's shorts and slid them down as far as she could push them.

Tori shook her legs a bit to get her bikini panties off of her left foot, and raised her legs toward her head, flexing them at the knees to offer herself to Wyatt, who appreciated the care she took of her body, obviously working diligently to develop smooth flexibility. Wyatt demonstrated his appreciation by shaking off his Superman shorts and focusing on the luscious moist depths of her pussy.