Fly Girl Ch. 02

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Saw a few back in the day—"

"Hold on, Mister. Do I want to know? Remember, my cousin's in law enforcement. Might have to rat you out."

He looked at her. As she studied his face her eyes lost their rascally glint.

"He's a Sheriff, right?"

"FBI," she corrected.

"FBI. Yeah, might need to talk with him." He took a contemplative drink of beer before downing his shot and banging the glass onto the bar. "Shit!"

"Okay, Mister Man, whadda ya know? And I mean, fer sure."

"Well . . . damn, nothing, I guess. Not for sure."

"Do you want to go back an' check it out?" She hoped he would say no; she had plans for Tom's evening. Plans, and needs.

"I dunno." He glanced over and saw her unbutton the top button of her denim shirt. He caught a glimpse of her lacy red bra, the one she liked to wear when she could go all night.

She watched his lust with satisfaction and suggested, "Maybe we oughta see what we can git on the 'boob tube'."

He felt himself stir in his shorts and began to relax into their game.

"Yeah, I bet we can get something good, huh?"

Patsy wanted him, just as she always wanted him. She had thickened about the waist a bit when she passed forty-five, but Tom helped her feel pretty and sexy every time they made love. She adored him for it.

"So, let's let this go for now, and just concentrate on 'us,' okay?'

"But we'll talk with your cousin, right?"

"Promise." She reached for his leg and slid her palm up until she bumped into his blunt tip. "But right now, I need you somethin' fierce," she whispered in her Texas drawl.

"Then drink up, baby, 'cause I'm gonna ring your bell!"

She smiled and stroked the growing cock through his jeans. "Ding-a-ling, baby. Ding-a-fuckin'-ling!"

They hoisted their beers and he left a twenty on the bar. Patsy raced home with Tom in hot pursuit. They tangled together as soon as they got inside her front door, and attacked each other's mouths in hungry, wet kisses. She unbuttoned her shirt and it fell to the floor. Her hands tugged his belt and opened his fly. He stepped out of his pants and his cock strained against his shorts.

Patsy stepped back and unclasped the crimson bra. She let it hang from her shoulders. Tom stared at her. He never tired of worshiping her full titties, or the nipples as thick as his little fingertips, or the wide circles of her responsive areolas.

He knelt and hefted her lush left breast with both hands. Her tanned tipped disappeared into his mouth with a wet slurp. As he tongued Patsy her fingertips twisted and kneaded her other nipple. Delicious electricity tickled her melting pussy and swelling clit.

"Damn, baby, you do that so good!" She forced his head to her chest and told him, "But I need that sticky sweet stuff from your fat tube on my boobs."

She pulled away and turned for her bedroom. Her short skirt slid over her rounded ass and down her tapered legs. Patsy stepped from it without missing a stride, and he watched the sway of her wide, womanly hips in the tiny red thong.

"Damn," he breathed, "that's one fine ass!" He shucked off his shirt as he followed her.

Patsy lay face down on the bed and rummaged in the nightstand. She retrieved a bottle of scented oil, lay back and dribbled a generous amount over and between her boobs. She set the bottle aside and began rubbing the lube all over her chest.

Tom said nothing. He watched her for a few seconds, let his eyes drift lower to Patsy's puffy vee encased in lacey fabric, and licked his lips. Then he slid his shorts to the floor and climbed into bed. He knee walked up the length of his woman's voluptuous figure until she grasped his cock with an oily hand.

"Hmm, nice and hard," she whispered as she ran her palm along his shaft. She swabbed his fat head across her slippery nipples before sliding him into the depths of her cleavage. Tom moaned and shoved forward. She pushed both globes tighter around him, imprisoning his erection just where they both wanted it.

Tom fell forward and caught the headboard. He pulled back and she gazed at his retreating tip, shiny and swollen, as its flared edge scraped over her skin. Then it moved forward again, nearly reaching her mouth. Patsy bent her head towards him and flicked the tip with the end of a pointed tongue. She tasted the first of his precum mixed with the Mango-flavored oil. His body shuddered.

"Oh, baby," she cooed, "Titty fuck me till you cum!"

"Oh, yeah!"

She played with her fat, sensitive nipples and wrinkled areolas. The oil made every slithering caress exquisite torture. Her pussy soaked the tiny red thong in response. She knew Tom would cum quickly the first time; she could hardly wait. The second time always took much, much longer.

Tom groaned and his breath turned ragged. He clutched the headboard until his knuckles whitened. His glazed eyes focused on the lascivious specter of his oily cock slipping back and forth between Patsy's big titties. Her nipples looked like two fiery volcanoes rising from the atolls of her pebbly areolas. He felt the tingle begin deep in his pelvis.

"Now, baby?"

"Yeah, honey, coat my nips!" She took him in her slippery hand and aimed his tip.

"Oooh . . . oooh . . . oooh!" he moaned to the rhythm of his orgasm. Thick bolts of creamy magma spurted from his purple tip. They splashed headlong into the burning flesh of Patsy's nipples and she gasped. Spunk clung to breasts and fingers. She smoothed the luscious fluid into her skin as Tom crumpled beside her.

"Mmm," Patsy sighed, cradling an ample breast and tonguing the coated nipple. "Yummy!"

Tom smiled as he fought to regain his breath. "You want . . . some . . . nibbling, baby?"

"God, yes! Go down on me while I clean my titties, sugar!"

Tom positioned himself between her legs. Her musk struck him, and his deflating cock twitched out of reflex. He reached for the edge of Patsy's thong, ran thick fingertips over her lace-covered pussy to watch her squirm, and pulled the wet lingerie aside. Her matted hair glistened, and he enjoyed eying the thick labia.

"God, hurry, baby. Eat me!"

"Like this?" Tom teased her with a long lick from her dripping opening up into her hood. He flicked her clit and grinned when he heard Patsy gasp.

"Fuck, yeeeah," she hissed. "More of that. And go deeper! Fuckin' eat me out!"

Tom devoured her just as she liked—a little bit rough with lots of teasing back and forth. He glanced up and saw her staring at him as she suckled on her right nipple. The lined flesh stretched from her breast as Patsy sucked hard. Even with her mouth full she groaned when Tom's tongue ran up inside her steamy slit.

He reached beneath her and squeezed her ass cheeks. Tom shoved his face tighter against her cunt and drew in a mouthful of flushed lips and glistening clit. His suction caused her flesh to swell, and his ravenous tongue set her on fire. Patsy shook and he knew she was ready.

"Oh, fuck!" she cried. Then she licked the last few droplets of his seed from her left areola and filled her mouth with the thick nipple. "Mmph . . . mmph . . . mmph . . . mmmhmm. Mmmhmm!"

Her body stiffened and Tom hung on for dear life. Patsy mauled her tits and shoved her hips towards him. He sucked harder and thrashed her clitty with his raspy tongue. She teetered on a plateau for a few moments before tumbling into her full climax.

She wailed around her nipple yet somehow managed to keep it between her lips. Her pussy clutched at Tom's tongue and dripped honey onto his face with every contraction. He drove her until she emitted a low, trembling screech and pushed his head from her pulsing crotch.

Tom lay beside her as she collected herself. A light sheen of sweat veiled Patsy's face, and her breasts were shiny. Her bra lay twisted under her arms and her thong remained pulled aside, exposing her flared labia. He tasted the nearest nipple and her body shuddered.

"That was a good one, baby," Tom proclaimed in a proud voice.

"That was a fucking good one, Mr. Man! Mmm . . . ." One of her hands caressed her opening and her hips jerked.

"Need a rest?"

She reached between his legs and found him delightfully erect. "Uh, uh. I need this. My insides are on fire."

"Well," Tom told her as he climbed onto her mature body, "I've got a hose that'll put that right out for you, ma'am."

"Oh, fuck!" she moaned as she felt the tip enter her. She pulled Tom's head to her and kissed him, tasting her cum on his lips. His dick slid deeper as their kisses grew wetter and hungrier. The pressure parting her walls made Patsy shiver.

"Mmm!" He reached the end of her and she ground hard onto him. As he pulled his hips back and began earnest thrusting Patsy wrapped her thick legs around his waist and titled her pelvis. He kept up the wondrous pumping for as long as she hoped he would. By the time Tom coated her insides Patsy had shaken through three gut-wrenching cums. It was well past midnight when they were finally spent.

* * * * * * *

While Patsy and Tom slept, Stephanie sat naked at the window. She watched a stray dog amble across the street before it disappeared into the shadows of her neighbor's garage. Steve stirred and reached for her. He felt empty sheets.

"Steph?"

"Oh, good, you're awake," she murmured. She rose like a spectral cat and padded to the bed. "I need you inside me." She lay on top of him and pressed her lips to his. Stephanie's hips rotated her smooth vulva against his soft dick.

"I'll get you hard, lover," she whispered. She moved toward his hips.

"Stephanie, you've already worn me . . . oooh!" Her mouth enveloped all of him and her tongue spread wonderful sensations over his worn skin. "Slow down, baby. Remember, I'm old!" He chuckled even as he stirred. Steve felt sore from their non-stop sex. Sore, and a little puzzled.

"Mmmm, that's nice," he sighed. He heard her gag. He knew she could take him without trouble, even with his dick fully erect. So why—

Then she started to cry. She still had his swelling cock between her lips, but there was no mistake.

Stephanie was crying.

He pulled away and she let him. She curled into a fetal position with her back to him. Her body trembled and shuddered as the sobbing began.

In an instant Steve wrapped around her, as if he could protect her from herself. There was concern—worry—in his voice.

"Stephanie, what is it?"

"I . . . don' . . . kno—oh—ow!" Huge tremors wracked her. Steve felt helpless.

"Baby, it's gonna be okay," his soft voice spoke into her ear. He pressed closer to her skin, wanting to shield her from the world. Fuck! he thought. What'd I do?

"Did I do something?"

"No . . . no . . . it's—" More sobs overwhelmed her.

"It's okay, baby. Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay. I'm here."

He held Stephanie while she wept herself to sleep.

* * * * * * *

"Agent Al Scott."

"Hey, Cous'."

"Patsy? Hey girl, what's up?"

"You gonna be at the fam'ly bar-b-que next Sunday?"

"Absolutely," he answered, curious. There was no reason to call him at work for that.

"Great, I want you to meet my friend, Tom."

"Friend, huh?" he teased.

She could here him smirk. "Yeah, friend, "she repeated. "What's it to ya, Fibbie?"

"Benefits?" he baited.

"None of yore bus'ness." She chuckled. "But he's hung like a horse!"

"Whoa, too much information," Al capitulated. "Hell, how am I going to shake his hand now?"

"And you call yourself a Texan? Shit. Cowboy up!"

He laughed. "Yeah, well. So, what's up?"

"Well, it kinda concerns Tom. A little. He works at this small airport here and one o' his planes came up with a little ole bullet hole—"

"What! Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Patsy said. His reaction surprised her. When they were kids bullet holes in vehicles around town were not that unusual.

"Was it in flight at the time?" She could hear papers rustling and a keyboard clacking on his end of the line.

"I think, aw, hell, I don't know fer sure. Why?"

"Why? Shooting at any flying aircraft is a serious Federal Felony. If it was shot on the ground that's local jurisdiction. But if it was shot in flight this's a big friggin' deal, Patsy. Crap, besides the FBI it might end up involving TSA, even Homeland. I need to interview Tom ASAP. And anyone else involved, too."

"Oh. Okay, I'll have him call you right away."

"Do that. As soon as possible. Okay?"

"Okay, Al. Talk soon, 'kay?"

"Okay. Love to your mama," he drawled.

"Yours, too, hon. 'Bye."

"'Bye."

After a flurry of telephone calls Agent Al Scott of the Federal Bureau of Investigation scheduled to meet Tom, Patsy, and Steve at the airport in two days. He and another agent would look into the incident.

* * * * * * *

Five serious people sat at the large table in the flight briefing room. The interview had barely begun and Al had an odd feeling about Steve.

"Okay, one more time, you were solo in the airplane when it sustained the damage?"

"Yeah."

"I don't believe you."

"Tough shit!"

"Steve," Patsy interrupted. Al looked at his cousin but she held Steve's gaze. "Can I have a word? In private."

Steve almost spoke. Instead, he snapped his mouth shut and stood. They left the room and the door swung shut.

"Look, baby," Patsy told him. "I can understand you wantin' to protect yer li'l sugar, but I know Al. He's good people. You need to be straight with him. If you're on the side o' right he'll walk through Hell with you. But if you cross him, he'll come after you with both barrels cocked and loaded."

"But you didn't see her, Patsy. Shit, she was a mess. And she's only getting her feet back under her now, what, four days later. I don't want her fucked up again!"

"Baby, she's fucked up now! This is all y'all's chance to put it right."

He took in her steady eyes and felt her will. Steve sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Okay. No, you're right. I can't protect her from everything. It just pisses me off!"

"I know. Me, too. But she's a big girl and she's tougher'n you think. You'll see."

Still he hesitated.

"What else?" she demanded.

"Well, there's a reason I knew this whole thing was screwed up. I flew out of that field a long time ago—"

"Dru—uh, 'contraband'?"

"Um, yeah. How'd—"

"Oh, sugar, now how do you think? Tom, o' course."

He looked stricken, and angry.

"No, he didn't tell me about y'all. But he told me he did a couple o' those flights in his stupid-ass past. And he said it was the way a lot o' pilots 'round here made a quick buck back in the day. I jus' put two-an'-two together, that's all. He didn't say anything 'bout you, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Now, adjust yerself and walk in there and save yer sweetie!"

He filled his lungs once more. Patsy saw Steve's eyes grow determined. He kissed her on the cheek and turned for the briefing room.

When they entered Steve sat down, heaved a big sigh, and admitted, "Sorry, Agent Scott. I forgot that there was someone else with me that flight. I was thinking of another flight where I was solo."

Al stared into Steve's face for a long time. "Got 'em mixed up, huh?"

Steve nodded.

Then Al asked, "How many flights have you been on where you've been shot at, exactly?" The corners of his mouth rose the tiniest bit, and his eyes softened.

Though he tried his best to maintain a blank expression, Steve's set mouth relaxed into a rueful grin.

"I'm getting old, I guess. Get mixed up easier than I used to." The tension left the room as though a drain had opened in the floor.

"Okay. But this is important. No more mix-ups, okay?"

Steve nodded once.

"Good. Now, can we get him in here?"

"Her," Patsy corrected. If she had not known Al all his life she would have missed the flicker in his eyes. No one else caught it.

Al recovered in an instant. "Okay, can we get her to join us? It's important that we get her story, too."

"I'll call," Steve said. He could not shake a lingering ambivalence. He dialed Stephanie's number and walked once more into the hall.

"Hey, babe," she answered in a hollow voice.

"Hey. Listen, I'm down at, well, I'm talking with Patsy's cousin—"

"The FBI cousin?"

"You knew?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"Well, I gotta tell you that getting shot at still has me a little freaked out. But I'm into the pissed-off part of the process right now, and I wanna she the fuckers who shot us put away."

"How much?"

"Well, like, enough to talk to the FBI."

"Okay, we're talking about it now. Down at the airport—"

"Can I meet you in about fifteen?"

"Make it twenty. I don't want you driving like you normally drive if you're coming down to see the Feds, okay?"

"Okay." She sounded a little unsteady. Steve thought she also sounded a little relieved.

"Okay, see you soon. And Steph?"

"Yeah?"

"It'll be okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

"Thanks." She sighed. "She you in fifteen."

"Twenty!"

"Yeah, whatever," she shot back in a voice he had not heard for days.

He went back in and sat, facing Al. "She's on her way."

"Excellent, thanks. Now, tell me again? You were circling the clearing here?"

"No," Steve told him, tapping the chart a little further south. "It was here. We had both noticed some activity, though Stephanie spotted it earlier. I mean, earlier on other flights. But she didn't know to be concerned—"

"And you did? Why?"

Steve looked at Tom, who rolled his eyes. Then he glanced to Patsy who nodded. His eyes swept across Al's partner, a grizzled veteran who had probably seen it all. Lastly, he focused on Al. The agent's broad face and open expression felt reassuring.

"Well," Steve began, "a long time ago . . . ."