Orange Walk Films Ch. 00

Polly+Anna (+Lance+Dale) - by Polly+Anna (1401 words) Nice to meet you, welcome aboard. (1/24/2020)

Our story arc began 11/12/1993 the day after the youngest of us turned 18.

Friday - January 24, 2020

"Nice to meet you, and welcome aboard Island Air flight 50 to Ambergris Kaye." I said, "I'm Polly, your pilot on this journey. While it's just another workday for me, you fine folks are on your way to a tropical paradise. The beautiful island of San Pedro - 'Last night I dreamt of San Pedro.' Yup, it's the same one that Madonna sang about in 'Spanish Lullaby.' I just completed our airplane's preflight check before you boarded, so it's time to fire 'er up."

Looking at the engine monitors as I toggle the switch to engage the starter. The Ng - the speed of the compressor blades - is up and the ITT - gas temperature between stages - is up. Oil pressure... Alright, I thought, it's another good start to a great day.

Everything is a lot more relaxed here in the Caribbean. Elsewhere folks would absolutely get their panties all in a bunch if they heard me conversing with my passengers as we prepared to take off.

"Why yes I am 'that Polly,'" I said. "It's always a pleasure to meet a fan of my work."

I have actually been flying airplanes longer than I have been making pornographic videos. Mom's brother, Uncle Mike, taught me back in '91 when I was 16. And while Anna and I sold our first movie before I had a paying job as a pilot, flying is my profession, creating "home-made" porn is just a really enjoyable hobby of ours.

"Check, check," I say into the mike before switching the radio over to listen to the robot.

"Wind 300 at 5... Visibility 12... Clouds 7000, broken, 9000 overcast... Temperature 78... Dewpoint 19... Altimeter 29.92... Birds at or below 500 feet from the airport... Please take Runway 7... Hold short for instructions... Advise on initial contact you have Information Delta. Out..." Repeating in an endless loop, until it's updated and becomes Information Echo.

"Oh," I say answering a question. "I've made literally hundreds of videos with my lovers Anna, Lance and Dale. My three best friends from school, proving the institution's oft repeated slogan correct: "The friends you make at the New River Academy will be your friends forever." We've made videos with one of us masturbating on camera, and videos of Anna and I doing just about everything imaginable together.

I looked at my watch and said, "Let's get permission to move and be on our way."

"Good morning," I said into the microphone, "Goldson Clearance, Caravan X3-050 over at Island Air... Like to pick-up our IFR, we have Information Delta."

"Caravan number X3-050 is cleared to roll at Island Air, with Delta. A-A to Runway Seven... Profile radar vectors... Climb and maintain 2000... Departure frequency is 121.0... Squawk 4352..."

"Understood, Caravan 050 is cleared for Taxi on A-A to Runway Seven for a profile departure. Hold at 2000 feet... Box set at 4352... Comm 121.0..."

"We have made movies where one of us, Anna or I was having sex - any and all kinds of sex - with Lance or with Dale. Movies where both of them were having sex with one or the other of us... Movies where both Anna and I were having sex with one of them..."

"Well," I said answering another question, "I do love the ones where all four of us get it on together, although technically they are not our best because nobody is left behind the camera. On the plus side, we have to do lots and lots of takes... Shooting tons of tape to compile a decent video. But I think I'll paraphrase Steve Martin: 'I'll always love my most recent one the most.'"

"Here we go," I said as I started the engine runup on the threshold of Seven.

A United 'heavy,' full of gleeful vacationers just like those in my Cessna was landing. As his wheels chirped the pavement, we were cleared to depart.

"There are only three things you'll never see us doing on a video," I said, "injuring someone, giving birth, or Lance and Dale having sex together without a girl."

Engine power was up and set, all temperatures and pressures were in the green. I said to myself.

"No, although we videotaped it. Actually, a rather vanilla sort of thing to do, but it's private."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It is kind of funny when you think about it, but everything else is us. And it's our choice to put it out there. It would just be wrong to let someone else see their history like that. We are totally cool with guys being together, but Anna and I are pretty glad that 'our' guys are not hot for one another. I mean we want to be the central focus of every one of their nasty little fantasies.

We'd been given a direct 040 heading, BZE to SPR, and roaring down the runway we went. V2, rotation speed... Being nice, high, fat-wing airplanes, Cessna's like to fly. They aren't built to sit around lollygagging on terra firma. We climbed out for two minutes at 110 KIAS, 126 miles per hour. Then I pushed the nose down and throttled back to cruise at 201 miles per hour for a tad less than ten minutes before we descended to turn and land.

"Yeah, up then down. We took off from a small hill." I answered my passenger's question. "When the Corps of Engineer's built the airport back in '42 they had to look hard for a hill in the really flat terrain around here. During rainy season it's important to have plenty of drainage."

"No, or maybe yes..." I said. "Polly, Anna, Dale and Lance aren't the names our parents gave us, but they are the names we gave ourselves 25 years ago when we started making pornos. Working in the 'public eye,' so to speak, I just kept using Polly when I started flying for a living. That actually makes my folks happy because they see this profession as the waste of a good education.

My brother runs the family business now, but he always manages to let it 'slip' that his sister is 'Orange Walk Films Polly.' I'm sure that he is really secretly turned-on by it all - 'my sister the porn star.' Anna's grandparents were fans of ours - well, not in a creepy way - they were old school shit-disturbers themselves and loved the fact that we did what we wanted to do. Just so long as we drank Orange Walk Rum in the process.

"Oh," I answered. "We are at 2,000 feet. She'll fly a teensy bit smoother and more economically at 6,000 feet. But it isn't worth it to climb longer and fly slower on a thirteen-minute hop. Its roughly a half-gallon of JP-4, which is just overpriced diesel fuel, per occupied seat to San Pedro. Fuel consumption is a remarkably predictable nearly flat line in this airplane."

I switched the radio to 123.0 and announced our intention to land on the open frequency. San Pedro has no control tower. We landed "short side" into a light wind on Runway 24. The runway has a significant displaced threshold to ensure that landing aircraft are adequately separated from the sailboats, piers, port quay with its cute shops and little downtown park and the grade school we just flew over.

As my passenger's exited the airplane, I handed them each an autographed DVD.

"Oh," I said, "just a little souvenir. Over 25 years of production we have tons of stuff that is hilarious but inappropriate to go into our product. Stuff like my falling off the bed as I went down on Anna, or her getting hit in the head with a boom mike while being anal-ized. Losing bladder control when getting fucked really nicely... Lance falling over a balcony railing that he was fucking me up against.

"Sometimes despite pre-planning and choreography it just doesn't work. My getting a ball stuck in my ass or Anna jerking Dale off and shooting his own spunk into his eye. Three of us having sex on a table and breaking it... Us falling off the waxed hood of a car and sliding around unable to fuck on wet bathroom tile. It's our own porno 'blooper reel.' I mean if we can't laugh at ourselves..."