Final Flight

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Whiff666
Whiff666
39 Followers

She liked to talk, as though no one had ever listened before, which is probably the case. And strangely, I liked listening. You might think with the kind of life she'd had she would be callous and cynical, but she wasn't. She was sweet, wanted to trust people, even after being disappointed over so many years. I found myself pouring my heart out in a way that was new to me, about how quickly my first wife had turned into a selfish hag, how I'd maintained a shell around my feelings after that, throwing myself at flying, and the military career.

The last hour, she talked about how she had come to trust me uniquely, convincing herself that I would never go back on my word if I gave it. "I remember you telling Bruno to leave Julie alone last year, darling. Just that fierce look in your eye, but it scared him. I started wanting you then. I know where Angelo has his money, and I know the codes. He thinks I'm stupid, but they're in the same safe where I keep my jewelry. In a lock box that took ten seconds to pick with a hairpin. Every woman wants a hero, Don. I found mine."

I've never in my life been as happy, as content, as those hours in the shady jungle with her. Like a big vacuum, she sucked me into her soul. When her caressing got my cock jumping again, she started working on me, playing with me, turning me on with her body, her hands, her mouth. Whispering things like "You can have my ass hole if you want, darling. I know some men like that, I always thought it must be the prison thing, but I get off with it occasionally. I would with you." And "Oh, you are a stud. It's getting up, I'm ready, darling. I'll always be ready for you."

We made slow, leisurely love, lying on our sides, her leg thrown over my hip, and we came together. As she writhed around me, she groaned "Take me away, Don. Oh yes, yessssss. Please take me away."

I worked on the radio that afternoon, and got power to it by sundown. There was still no tuning, but I knew it was just a matter of time before I found the right chips to replace the ones that were burned out. Julie wanted to get off that night, but the old johnson was too pooped. Besides, I felt strange about her. But Doris did it for her, right in front of me, grinning at me every once in a while, her head buried at that young bottom. And when it was finished, she came to me, and her kiss tasted of her daughter.

The next morning, I woke slowly to that same smell of pussy. Julie was on her side, that kinky black bush no more than an inch from my mouth. She had a knee straight up in the air so her cuntlips were spread, and in spite of her youth, there was a lot of soft flesh, dark and red, kind of puffy, right there at the top of this gaping slit, in range of my tongue. I flicked out at it, heard her sigh, then realized I had to pee bad. "Jesus, Julie, I gotta piss. Come on, lay off for a sec."

The little minx arched that twat against my lips, and whispered "Then pee in my mouth, Don. I wanna drink your piss." Then her mouth covered my cock, and in my confused mind, the invitation, the question of where her mother was, the need to go, all overwhelmed whatever self control I might have been able to muster, and I let loose. As I did, her hips started humping my mouth, and she came, the spasms of her puss opening up her hole so my tongue got in there a good two inches. I had never had a woman do that, and it was sexy as hell.

Excitement and relief fired around in my groin as her soft, wiggling cunt flailed away, with my tongue trying to find her tender flesh, a weird whine coming from her as her throat worked to swallow. It went on for a good two minutes, as she orgasmed, and I emptied my bladder. Finally, she fell away, to her back, muttering "Shit, that was nasty, oh Don, Don. You gotta fuck me, stud. As soon as I recover here. Least you can do, don't you think?"

I looked around, and there was Doris, lying on her stomach, staring at me. I felt strangely guilty, and it must have showed in my face, because she smiled at me, that doe eyed look I love, and whispered "It's okay, darling, you can, there isn't anything we can do. It's a turn on to watch my lover fuck my daughter, eat her cunt. God I'm awful."

I haven't done it to Julie unless her mother was right there, somehow that makes it seem less evil. We do threeways once a day, it's positively the sexiest thing I've ever experienced, waking up knowing they're both there, waiting for me to stiffen, knowing it's going to happen. Doris and I had it out with Julie today, making her cry about her wanton adventures the last year. Sniffling, she moaned "But I get so horny, Mommy. I know it's nicer with Don, but he's yours. Shit, I know that. You think I'm blind?"

Doris hugged her, and told her she had to eventually find her own man, but "Look how long it took me, dear. Because I was an uneducated whore when I was young. You can't find a good man spreading your legs for every cock that comes along." It had an effect, I think, because she started reading one of her mother's books that afternoon.

Seventh Day

No one will ever read this, but I feel it helps me organize my thoughts if I make the entries. The crackly voice that answered my mayday knew who I was, and said he had instructions to contact the owner. I figure they'll come by boat, prepared for trouble. I don't know if Angelo will come. Knowing him, he'll want to be in on the kill. Bastard.

My plan is to destroy the plane with them in it, to slow down and confuse any pursuit. No matter how many he sends, I have the advantage of surprise, and knowing the terrain. I'm probably a better shot. Doris understands the risks, but they both are willing. "Anything to get away, my darling." Turns out she's a pretty good shot, too. I have the gas tanks rigged with the flares. The maps, our luggage, and Bruno's body are hidden in the jungle. It should work. If they come from the south...

(Remainder of page charred)

A Swiss withdrawal of forty million dollars was made from a numbered account a week later, but there was no trace of them at Airporte Geneve. We asked for the cooperation of the French SSD, but a Captaine Lefarge seemed unenthusiastic about trying to trace them. "He has saved you a great deal of trouble, mon ami. Why not let the hero find a life?" Very French thinking.

By now, they could be anywhere. Lt. Cmdr Foreman had substantial experience in international undercover work, which probably means he can make them disappear. Lacking your directive to the contrary, I will leave the warrant on the Interpol computer, but abandon any further effort. Not only would it likely be fruitless, but perhaps Lefarge has a point.

s/Johnson, L. G. Col., USMC(Ret)

Whiff666
Whiff666
39 Followers
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