Life is a Runway

"Eooow! What was that for?" He did not know what sore to soothe first and just kept on laughing. "It's OK! I'm OK! Just help me up and let me limp home, before you implement other, more drastic, incentives!"

"Sssorrry!" They both laughed and limped arm-in-arm to their trailer. She then patiently kissed all his booboos, real or imaginary, and Samuel milked the incident for all its worth.

"Well, here we are between us again... I'm all yours, honey!" He was kissing her now, and looking at her lecherously. "Just what did you have in mind?"

"I know only two thing, baby: the first is that I want you, the second is that my poor little ass needs respite." She was undressing and exposing her very stiff erection to press her point.

"Say no more, milady! Your friendly mechanic is right here to inspect your oil seepage!" He did not even bother to undress and mockingly inspected her glans; then kissed it; then licked it. He had decided to try a very sloppy and sensual blowjob. He kept looking at her and did his best to mime a kiss... with both her balls in his mouth. His hands were back at their favorite workstation: her breasts. Samuel could not get enough of her and she somehow felt that vibe, arousing her even more. He now had her cock in his mouth and he was trying his first real fellatio, in and out, soft and steady. He tried swallowing her whole but his gag reflex prevailed; he would have to improve on that later. He focused on sucking her comfortably all the while cuddling her shaft with his tongue.

"Hoooo, my... baby you are GOOD! You almost make me love my big clit! Just keep on loving me..."

That comment, and the fact that Fay was not nearly as excited as this morning, sparked an idea in Samuel. His hands, regrettably, let go of her breasts to take Fay's idle hands and place them on his head. He then locked his lips in place and signaled her to use his mouth. She gasped in apprehension and Samuel had to channel reassurance through his moan on her wet pillar. He then winked at her; that did it. She tightened her grip on his head and slowly pushed her cock in his mouth.

(All right... she's going for it! Now swallow and get ready!)

The first entry of her penis through his throat was unpleasant but it was a mere instant, so he managed to repress his gag... and again, and again. But his system fought back and Samuel was now learning to manage refluxes of drool - luckily it was only drool - and at the same time breathe through his nose.

During that time, Fay had completely been won over by the face-fucking request of her beloved. And to see him, kneeled before her, totally submitted to her will and degraded to drooling uncontrollably, had an intoxicating effect on her that she did not expect. Instead of slowing down, she pounded him like a jackhammer and a very different voice emerged. "Take me! Take all of me! Your mouth is mine! Euuuaarrgh! And it feels A-MA-ZING!"

(Ouuuch! She's really into it, now! Come on Sam, just hang in there!)

By now her hands were holding his hair with enough pull to be painful and she was forcefully fucking Samuel senseless. She did not even bother to warn him about her climax nor did she slow down her pistoning while erupting in him, without a thought about this new influx he now had to manage. This weird loving session ended under the sound of grunts, coughs and choking.

Sated, Fay let herself fall on the dining chair behind her; Samuel just let himself fall sitting down on the floor. He was a somewhat pitiful sight, with drool and a smattering of semen leaking out of his nose and tear tracks down his eyes that were not a sign of high emotion. And Fay looked more and more mortified as her senses were returning to her.

Samuel went on for his conclusion, with a voice more raspy and hoarse than he would have liked. "All checked and A-OK Miss... you're good to go." His smile was timid and tender.

"Baby... that was... scary... why... why did you let me do that to you?"

"Because, darling... because of what you told me this morning, about unconventional love and pain... I get it now; and I want you to love your sex the way I do... because I'm crazy about it."

That really startled her. "I'm glad, honey... but I'm afraid your cheering for a lost cause... I could never love this clit that feels... wrong."

"Four days ago I had never ever seen a penis on a woman, now I fantasize about having it everywhere on or in me. Surely you could at least appreciate yourself more?"

"Am I turning you gay, Sam?"

"First of all, I'm pretty sure that if you invite one the team husbands over and stripped him right here, it would leave me cold. You, however, get me hard even when you're still fully dressed. Second, why do the semantics matter? I love YOU, Fay... just as you are."

Fay was trying very hard not to ruin this day with a burst of anger. "I appreciate what you are trying to do for me, but what is semantics for you is... gut-wrenching to me!"

"Then answer me this: if you hate your penis so much, why did you not go through with a full reassignment? You obviously have the means."

"Why are you doing this, Sam? We had a fun day... Ohhh, Fuck you, Sam! Do you even know what the operation consists of? I almost puked when the surgeon explained it to me! I feel queasy just thinking about it now! How can you claim to know or even guess what it is to be condemned living your life with an alien body because you're too chikenshit to change it? I would give ANYTHING to be a woman to you Sam... instead of... of..."

Samuel hugged her and softly shushed her. "Don't finish that sentence, please, sweetheart. And please listen to me just one more minute. To me it is not semantics either, it's my heart that's on the line. Fay Aarden, you are a woman, and a woman of supermodel beauty, inside and out. I love you and that means I need, I want, to soothe or heal your pain when you're hurt. Now, the way I see it, if you cannot change anymore, then it means you are not in transition, it mean you have arrived. It means that you are the woman that you are and I am glad it is so. I love YOU, Fay. And as far as sexual intimacy is concerned, I will gladly be the object of ANY affection you might have for me. And if, one day, that means you are ready and willing to feel your clit inside my ass, it will be yours to have just as all the rest of me. And I will never, ever, bring this up again. I promise."

It was a weird communion between them: Fay was sobbing on his shoulder, but Samuel could vividly feel she was also relieved. "Wow! Sam... that was some declaration... how long have you been preparing it?"

"For a while..." he let the thought hang and kept on hugging her for several minutes. "Are you going to be all right, darling? I was thinking of starting the barbecue and finishing up with Betrouwbaar, before I forget a wrench in the engine cowl."

"That's fine, baby, you go do that now." They both dressed back up and Sam was crossing the trailer door, about to leave for the hangar. "Sam?"

"Yes, Fay?"

"You truly are a beautiful, magnificent, gorgeous man... and I'm sorry I never told you before."

"Only to you and only for you, honey... and I'm glad for this day with you... the whole day, Fay... all of it."

"So am I, Sam... I really am." Nothing else needed to be said.

---

When Sam returned from the hangar, whistling without a care in the world, he was in for a surprise: he was not the only one to have guided himself on the smell of his burning charcoal and he was pleased to see and hear Fay chit-chatting in Dutch with the ladies of their National Team, plus their husbands. He also noticed they seemed settled in, with a bottle of wine already opened and several beers on the table.

As soon as she saw her returning hero, Fay lit up and ran up to him. "Sam! Look what we have here!" Samuel could discern a hint of embarrassment as she snuggled on him and whispered "... can you cook for them all?"

After a quick appraisal, he replied. "Yes, dear... I will throw in all our rations and it will be a mixed menu, but if they don't mind that, I'll get going right away."

"Thank you!" She kissed him softly. "By the way, stud, you're the talk of the town today!" She winked at him before returning to her improvised social event.

And it turned out great. Brats, chicken, beef, fish fillets, corn, potatoes and vegetables were all roasted to everyone's delight and Samuel was behaving like someone who wore an apron reading "KISS THE COOK". His second batch of cooking was liberally coated with beer, to an even more resounding success. As tomorrow was all pageantry and no flying, everyone was partying freely. Mostly in Dutch.

Fay returned to Samuel after everybody was gone; he was washing dishes. She kissed him on the back of the neck. "Thank you, honey. You have worked so hard... and I have had so much fun!" That last admission sounded as she surprised herself while saying it. "How can I help?"

"I got this, baby... I don't..." and he stopped there, almost pursing his lips.

"You don't what, honey?"

"I don't want you to wash dishes, Fay... you're a woman of the world... and I should be giving you the moon instead of a washcloth... you deserve so much more... and I..." now it was Fay who was exposed to her darling's private pain; her heart went out to him.

She put her hand on his. He stopped and waited. "Sam, I probably do not even deserve half the kindness you shower me with, and I am happy to be here with you, and lucky to be so loved by you. I would gladly live all my days with you in this very trailer. Sam, you asked me to share... please..." She kissed him again, a kiss so soft and true he shivered at the touch of her lips.

He sighed. And smiled meekly. "I wash, you dry." The serenity of that domestic interlude was overwhelming and the party quickly caught up with both of them: they snored loudly almost right after.

---

The region of Zbraslavice was honored to host this World Championship and, by all accounts, on Saturday it pulled all the stops to show it. A visit of the historic village of Kutna Hora, a parade, speeches by the Committee, a very solemn organ concert, and all this concluded by a brunch at 7h30 PM, to the bewilderment of Samuel for whom a brunch was a late-morning event. When they returned, Samuel prodded a very grateful Fay to peruse the events of her BeautyCon and tend to her blog. He slept nervously that night. Starting tomorrow, the flying would count.

---

On Sunday, task #1 was a two-hour long area course, under still marginal gliding weather. Samuel, for his part, only had the take-off to attend to and no retrievals; but it still was a long day. The take-off was delayed and most of the pilots struggled so much to stay airborne that few properly timed their race. Fay started late - once in the air, a glider pilot has discretion as to when she crosses the start line - and finished late, landing back at almost 6h00 PM. She did a 199 km run in 2hrs. 28min., for an 8th place average speed of 80,68 km/h.

By now, Samuel knew Fay well enough to know she was in this to win and he feared for her mood. So he was surprised to find her quite meek and mellow.

That little mystery was soon solved, while he was cooking diner. "Sam, baby... I'm sorry to impose, but I am sore all over... I need a massage, honey bunny... pleaaaase!"

"Of course, darling, but I am no masseur... don't set your sights too high, please... I would hate to disappoint."

She nonchalantly stripped and lay on her stomach, on their bed, which was very obviously the only place to do this in their trailer. "You cannot disappoint when it is your hands I seek on me, baby. I am sure you will work magic."

Magic is a tall order. Plus, they had no massage oil. But, for better or worse, Samuel got an idea. Since he was boiling water, he warmed his hands in the steam before letting them wander on her back. That was magic.

"Mmmmmm! That is a heavenly feeling! And what is this marvelous heat?"

"Our upcoming pasta, to be candid about it... now please rest, I will do my best; where is it sore?" He patiently doted on her for almost an hour, warming his hands repeatedly and only using little pressure, and even then only under her supervision. For the rest of the time, he just enjoyed letting his warm hands roam from her neck to her feet. Her feet got special attention, as he had read that foot massages were especially beneficial.

"My beautiful man, that was a moment in paradise. Thank you. Now, I suggest we eat before I turn on my back and you resume your amazing massage." He chuckled in surprise, as she indeed ate her spaghetti bologna stark naked. She explained that the day was hard because all the air traffic was at the same place, which forced her to constantly swing her head around, like the wartime pilots of old, to avoid collisions.

There was no subtle innuendo for her expectations regarding the second part of the massage. Fay directed Samuel's hands directly to her breasts, and Samuel massaged her dutifully, all the while ogling at her hardening penis. His patience was rewarded as she directed him to soothe her there as well, when the need gnawed at her to the point of no return.

"Take care of it, Sam... be soft... it is also sore." He was gentle, fondling her balls with one hand and warming her shaft with a gentle caress from the other. She was moaning in pleasure on the spot.

"Do you want me to make you cum, honey?" Her eyes were the blue of the sky and her smile shined like the sun.

"Yes, baby, make me cum... gently please... just like you're doing now." As per her wish, Samuel just kept on massaging her sex, cuddling both her shaft and her balls.

"Fay... don't laugh and don't sneer, please, I just have to say it: I think your penis is stunningly gorgeous." He kept on the same loving cadence.

Fay smiled weakly. "You really love it that much... don't you Sam? It's not a let's-make-Fay-feel-better kind of thing?" The same sweet rhythm.

"Well, I love YOU, Fay, don't forget that, now... but yes, I admit your penis, your breasts, your tushy... they all excite me immensely. I was even thinking of shaving my balls, just like yours, because I find it so pretty." Never changing.

"Eeew, Sam! That is as stupid as you growing a pair of breasts because you think mine are pretty! What looks good on me does not necessarily agree with you. You are a man, Sam. A gorgeous, and hairy, man. Don't change any bit of you, please... you truly are perfect just as you are!" Her voice was quickening, from the waves of pleasure she felt within her. "Oh! Sam... faster please... and harder!"

"No, baby... this is a massage, not a handjob. And not a race. You'll get there!" He kept, stubbornly, the same pace.

"Come on, baby... you know my speed demon!!! Fasteeer!!!" Still not a change in frequency. But Samuel could hear a moan withheld at the base of throat.

"Let me see what I can do, then..." and he tricked her: instead of changing his pace, he added the touch of his lips on her glans. That was electric.

"OOOOHHHMYYYYYYGODDD!" She could not articulate syllables afterwards, only a long, guttural, feral yell, all the while Samuel was swallowing a small, constant torrent of semen. Without applying too much pressure, he kept on milking her inside his eager mouth.

While she was gasping, Samuel kissed her tummy; small kisses that he were leapfrogging upwards, to her bosoms, where they lingered somewhat, and then resumed their tracking right up to her mouth. This time, it was a silent kiss, as he had kept some semen to share with her, to her huge enjoyment.

When Fay's breathing returned to normal, she just whispered a "thank youuu" before inviting him closer to her face. He complied, as always. She turned her head sideways and lowered his pants for his own reward. She took in his penis and motioned him to make love to her mouth.

Samuel gasped and whispered right back. "Baby, you are just so incredible!" He motioned slowly in her welcoming lips, like he wanted the skin of his shaft to experience the glide between this luscious pair of wanton flesh. He wanted to leave plenty of time for her tongue to adjust to the incoming intruder and smother it properly; his glans felt almost every single one of its minuscule ridges. This was way too sensual for Samuel to keep any grasp over his arousal. No matter how much he slowed his motion, his climax would just not be stopped... in fact, he lost control even more.

"Careful baby! Cumming! mmmrghmmm!" That orgasm surprised even him: he exploded in her, like a drag chute in the old fighter jets when they landed... one huge spread and then deceleration.

Fay had eyes full of tenderness and kept on whispering, as if she did not want to upset their intimacy. "Sam?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He whispered as well.

"You make me happy, baby. Very, very happy. Please come to bed with me, now. We have another long day tomorrow."

---

Task #2 was a 253,11 km race. With another delayed take-off. With more of the same crappy weather. The performances were, once more, dismal... and that was for the ones who completed the race. Several outlanded today, including Fay. While Samuel was on station in Betrouwbaar, he saw members of the team go retrieve her by land. Samuel saw, at the scoring table, that her 130 km trajectory was good for 9th place. He feared for the worst.

And, this time, Fay did not disappoint. He saw her storming out of the SUV, without even thanking anybody, and he knew he was in for it. When his flying day was done, Samuel braced himself mentally before entering their trailer.

(If it gets too unlivable, I suppose I'll just join the lobsters in the boiling water!)

Fay was brooding with barely contained rage while Samuel silently prepared their evening meal.

"There you go, honey, lobster and rice, New-Brunswick style! Bon appetit"

"Merci. I have eaten lobster before, you know... mmm, it's well cooked."

The evening was shaping up to be a disaster. Samuel's every word of endearment or support was shot at like an F-105 over route pack VI. And, no matter how loving and devoted he was, he could only take so much.

"Fay, honey, could you please try to be a little more pleasant this evening?"

"But of course, Samuel darling honeypoo, forgive my curt manners! It doesn't matter that this Championship sucks... WE are having a lovable getaway in our comfortable trailer!"

"This does not suck, Fay..."

"Of course it doesn't... YOU get to fly your beloved relic of a tow-plane to your heart's content and you get to ride ME almost as often! What about ME, Sam? I buy a fucking glider that sinks so much I might as well try my hand at your Canadian clunkers! This is a Championship, Sam! The goal is to win! I am 8th after today's tally! Go ahead, Mr. Sunshine, try to brighten THAT fact!"

"Fay, if you forsake me for it, I will at least have said it once: when you are upset, at least 70% of your brain shuts off. So now, it seems I have to fill in for those parts, and you damn well better shut up while I try doing it!" He did not see her actually recoil from that outburst, like it had been a direct hit.

"First of all, the goal of a race is never to win, it is to go as fast as you can! Winning is an objective, not the goal. You have ten more tasks to improve your flying, and probably enough points in play to win it. Heck, you're not even last! As a matter of fact, you currently have a higher score than some of the best-ranked pilots in the World! News flash: bad days can happen, Fay! To ANYBODY!"

"Second, you are in a WORLD event! Out of seven billion people, you are part of the 49 women who can do this thing, whatever the reason, and you should be damn proud like you frickin Dutch are always supposed to be, according to the cliche! And if you don't win it this year, you know what? At 27, you have at least 16 more editions to do better before you might lose your wings... can't you, for once in your blessed life, be patient! Just this ONCE!"