The Future is in the Air Ch. 03

"I am so ready for you," she hissed, settling her slight weight and impaling herself.

"Oh, fuck ," I moaned into the darkness as her warmth slipped fully down to my root. Her intense arousal was most definitely evident, yet the friction was perfect.

The increasing dawn's light through her wood blinds allowed me to witness her gorgeous face beaming in satisfaction as she rocked herself, drawing my cock in and out of her. To my touch, her nipples felt like gumdrops as I rolled and pulled gently at them.

"Oh oh oh," Leah cried out, squinting her eyes, "Great-aunt Bertha … God ! Cumming ! Oh !" she whimpered through clenched teeth.

I felt rhythmic subtle pulses grasping my shaft.

She fell forward onto my chest, panting. She was quiet for several moments.

"It's never happened so fast," she groaned. "I need a minute to catch my breath."

Feeling her tiny body fully resting upon mine was quite nice.

"You're such a beautiful woman, Leah. Please believe me that I'm not poking fun, but I adore your petite stature. We really do fit together perfectly."

"Can we trade places? I need to feel you on top of me," she whispered as she nudged my shoulders.

"Hold me tighter," she begged after I re-entered her from above, wrapping her arms under mine and pulling me to her.

I feared my weight would stifle her, but I settled onto her lithe little form.

"Yes! Oh, shit!" she said with a strained voice. "I'm almost there again, baby!"

Her furtive words shook me to my core.

"Oh!" she cried out, "oh, fuck, don't hold back! Oh fuck, oh fuck me," she groaned loudly.

I propped myself slightly on my elbows for better leverage as I thoroughly engaged my parts with hers. I don't know how long it took, but it wasn't long before I erupted deeply within her.

"Leah!" I groaned fiercely as I emptied myself.

We panted against each other for several wonderful moments, then sighed into slow, soft kisses.

"Oh, hell yeah," she said with a warm smile.

I crawled from atop her and she snuggled into the crook of my arm, wrapping her leg around mine.

We laid quietly for several beautiful minutes of afterglow.

Leah began chuckling.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

Her chuckles turned into more.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Um, just the giant wet spot I feel," she answered. "Jeez, dude, do you always make so much?"

I chuckled. "Never really thought about it."

Leah scurried out of the bed and pulled the covers back, then laughed even harder. There was considerable evidence of our incredibly wonderful romp.

"Whoa, girl, you must have had something to do with it, too," I said, pointing at the dinner-plate-sized blot. "I'll help you change the sheets."

She removed the duvet and checked its state before setting it aside. I helped her remove and replace her bedding. It struck me that I was enjoying what normally would seem like a chore. Yeah, okay, it was a bit of pride. I knew for a fact my own emission couldn't possibly have made a spot so large, and her own orgasm had done most of the work. It absolutely thrilled me.

When the task was complete, Leah walked to one of the windows in the room and peered through a lifted slat of the wood blinds.

"Whoa. Check it out."

I stepped beside her to see incredibly dense fog.

"Yikes. Everything is socked-in," I said a few seconds later, showing her the map I pulled up on my phone which displayed a graphical weather summary. Every airport in the metro area was reporting low IFR conditions.

"Were you planning on heading back to Oklahoma this morning?" she said, wrapping her arms around me.

"Sometime today, but I'm not sure. You tell me," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, my first class is tomorrow," I answered cautiously, hoping she would understand the connection. "I'm … well, I'm not sure whether I should show up or not."

"Yes, baby. Do it. I can't imagine anything more awesome than what you're offering me."

A thought dawned.

"Hang on. Are you doing that thing where you tell me the opposite of what you're really thinking and expect me to get it?"

She smacked me on my shoulder. "No, you dork!"

"Are you doing it again?"

Her smile was incredibly genuine. "I'm not, honey. I'm being completely honest."

"Okay, but, baby, my commercial certificate was really, really, difficult."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I don't know if I can manage the next step," I said, feigning fear and self-doubt in a way I knew she wouldn't take seriously.

"Oh, come here," she said, wrapping me in a warm, still-naked embrace. "I have complete faith in you. I know you can do it."

"I can do it?"

"Can you?" she asked, rubbing her smooth, taught tummy against my man-parts.

"Maybe," I whimpered, continuing my feint.

She grinned. "Let's see if we can do it together."

We reengaged in more frolics for a while until our stomachs growled. It was almost nine o'clock.

I laughed when her tummy roared again. "You hungry?"

"Very. Let me make us some breakfast," she offered.

"No. We've both worked pretty hard already this morning. Let's go out."

We went to a quaint little diner in Wylie where we ordered enough food to stuff ourselves.

"Oh, goody. The fog's almost gone," Leah observed, looking out the restaurant's windows. "Things will be a lot calmer when I go on shift."

"You're going back to work today?"

"Yeah, my 'timeout' is over." She air quoted. "Try not to sound too judgmental."

"Never. But now I know what time to depart for OKC, because there's no one else I want working when I leave."

And that was exactly what I did. The fog, as forecast, dissipated into severe clear by eleven o'clock.

When Leah was ready to depart for work at 1:30pm, I went home. I tended to a few housekeeping items then left for the airport at four o'clock.

"McKinney ground, Skylane three four eight lima mike, northwest hangars, VFR departure to the northwest."

Brad's voice gave me the expected taxi clearance, which I acknowledged and executed.

"McKinney tower, Skylane three four eight lima mike, holding short three six, ready for departure."

"Skylane eight lima mike, winds are calm. Runway three six, cleared for takeoff," said Leah's beautifully clear, feminine voice.

"Cleared for takeoff on three six, eight lima mike."

My plane leapt into the cold, dense air in short order, and I trimmed it for best climb and blasted the heater. It was forecast to be close to zero degrees at my cruising altitude, so I had my woolen coat over my seat-back and my gloves in the vacant passenger seat in case the cabin heater couldn't keep up.

"Skylane eight lima mike, thanks for your patience," Leah radioed. "Safe flight. Contact departure for flight following, good luck, and see you soon."

"Thanks. Back in a month or so," I acknowledged. I wore a smile because there were no delays in my departure requiring said patience. I knew.

---

Mid-December.

Kevin Mace had coordinated and lined up three other candidates to take the CFI course.

His schedule included six hours per day in the lounge for ground school for four days per week for two weeks, with a two-hour break at lunch during which he'd fly with one student per day. The third week was all airborne training, with slots aligned so students could go take their two written exams. To say it was condensed training would be putting it mildly.

I scored really, really well on the Fundamentals of Instruction exam, but I was sorely disappointed with my CFI written, scoring only 75%.

My brain was so awash in facts and figures, I struggled to bring the right ones to the top of the pile in the time allotted and wound up leaving ten of the hundred questions unanswered. It meant I erred on fifteen of the other ninety.

When I spoke to Kevin about my disappointment, he seemed unfazed.

"So? You got a seventy-five. Do you know what to call an airline captain who gets a seventy on a written?"

"A washout?"

"No, you call him Captain. You passed . That's all that matters. Don't be so hard on yourself. If you want to be a perfectionist, you can take it again later. But no one cares except you. You know what I'd recommend?"

"What?"

"Your checkride is scheduled for Wednesday. Eric is bringing his Skylane in for its annual inspection. Why don't you come by tomorrow? We can spend the day in the hangar. I'm sure he'll be here much of the day because he insists on doing all the allowed owner-assists. He's really pretty good at it because he's so anal, but I'll be here to keep an eye on him. We can chat and sort of hangar-fly."

"Sounds like a great idea."

---

"You're doing what ?"

"I'm taking my CFI checkride tomorrow. What's the big deal? Yeah. I got my commercial ticket, and getting … at least I hope, my instructor's."

He laughed, almost scattering the inspection cover screws he'd carefully arranged in sequence in trays on the tool cart.

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard!"

"No, proposing to a woman you'd only known for three weeks tops that by miles ."

"Maybe you're right, but crazy worked for us."

"Well, I'm kind of doing the same sort of thing."

"Oh? How so?" he asked as he made marks on the disassembly checklist.

"I've met someone, Eric."

He put his clipboard down, then returned the three screwdrivers he'd used to their designated slots in the tool cart.

"Seriously? That's good news."

"Yeah. We've gotten pretty involved, actually."

"How'd you meet? And what does she have to do with this project of yours?"

"I met her back in the spring and gave her an aerial sightseeing tour around downtown Dallas. It was her very first time in an airplane of any sort. She'd never even flown commercial. She absolutely loved the whole experience. I let her fly left seat and do the checklists and everything then flew her out to a practice area east of Lake Lavon to let her play after I flew her around downtown Dallas and near her house.

"I invited her to go with me a few times and showed her how to do some basic maneuvers and things, and she picked it up really quickly. It started out as basic friendly business, but it turned into a little more than that.

"Anyway, during a flight in the summer, we got caught around some pop-up storms. She became a wee bit airsick because of the turbulence. I had her fly the plane to try to distract her and change her focus. We got on the ground and, after she'd rested it off, she told me she wanted to get her own license.

"I had the idea that, if I earned the ratings, I could teach her myself. Didn't even think about charging her for my time or to use my plane. I thought it might be fun to surprise her, and I revealed my plan the evening after I passed my commercial checkride.

"Anyway, she lost it with me. It pissed her off something fierce. I'm serious, man, I really thought I'd ruined the relationship and was getting ghosted."

"Why did it upset her?"

"Don't want to go into that right now, but we worked it out, and she's, at least I think, on board with the whole idea. If all goes well tomorrow, I'll be heading back to Dallas, and we'll see where we go from there."

"So, you're doing all this work and spending all this time only to teach one single person how to fly?"

"Yep," I answered summarily. "At least I think she's single."

Eric's eyes flew wide. "Lance! Please tell me you aren't wooing a married⁠—"

I chuckled when he tripped on my trap.

"No, Eric, she's very single."

"Are y'all exclusive?"

"Until I met her, I hadn't seen anyone romantically in several years. You know that."

"That's not a complete answer."

I considered his question carefully.

"Huh. I assume we are, but … I don't know about her dating life, other than the fact that one of her prior interests used to work for us but got dumped by her and fired by RM due to acts of moral turpitude."

"Don't you think you should ask?" was his simple reply.

I thought for a few moments, then pulled out my phone and called Leah.

"Hey, Lance. I'm working, so don't be surprised⁠—Piper three eight niner, runway three six, cleared for takeoff⁠—don't be surprised if we get interrupted."

"Understood. I'll make it quick. Is our relationship exclusive?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

Eric stared at me looking surprised.

"Well, I'm talking to a guy I know, and I was telling him I'm seeing someone romantically. He asked me that question, and I told him I didn't know for certain because I've never come straight out and asked you."

She laughed. "When did that happen?"

"Now. In fact, he's standing right in front of me."

"Hang on a minute. I'm about to send you a picture. It's intended for him, not you. This is going to be fun," she said giddily.

I heard her asking whoever she was working with to do her the favor of snapping the shot. I heard someone else laughing in the background after a few seconds.

"It's on the way. Now hand him your phone so I can answer him myself."

I had no idea what was about to happen, and I was more than curious.

"Here. She wants to talk to you," I said to Eric.

I held my cell out to him. He tried to refuse it, but I thrust it into his hand.

"Uh, hello?" he said, very nervously, into it.

I could only hear sounds coming from the phone. The ambient noise in the shop made the words impossible to understand. Eric looked at the display, tapped it, and his eyes went even wider. He blushed a little, but then put the phone back to his ear. I heard more distorted words come through it after he acknowledged seeing the image.

"Yes ma'am. Of course. My apolo⁠—Yes, um … thank you for your explanat⁠—Yes ma'am," he said, sounding uncharacteristically timid.

He returned the phone to me.

"Everything okay?" I asked Leah.

"Yep! Everything's squared away!"

She sounded chipper, and I heard even more laughter in the background.

"What'd you tell him?"

"Ask your friend, baby. We're about to get a push, so I gotta go, okay? Call me tonight?"

"Count on it, beautiful."

Eric looked sheepish. I heard him take a deep breath which he exhaled through slightly pursed lips.

"You okay, Eric?" I asked as I opened the picture.

I burst out laughing when I saw it. It was a closeup of Leah's right hand, and only her right hand, with her middle finger rigidly extended by itself in an upward direction. I knew it was her hand because her OU class ring was visible on its ring finger.

"What'd she say?"

"She told me to do something to myself that might require those tools," he said and pointed to the ones he'd just stored.

He added, "Then, she said the man standing in front of me is the best thing to ever happen to her, and she would never hurt him by seeing anyone else on the side."

I grinned widely at both the epic confirmation, the praise, and pride in her dastardly deed.

"She's so awesome, isn't she?"

"If you say so," he groaned. "Damn, Lance! My butt hurts!"

"Come on you two, ease up on the antics," Kevin interrupted. "Eric, see to your business. Lance and I have some work to do."

We spent the better part of the day chatting. He'd throw out a topic, and we'd discuss it. He'd offer suggestions, and, well, we simply chatted.

"That, Mr. Marlin, is damn-near exactly what Smitty is going to do tomorrow. For these last few hours, you weren't anxious about it because you know me, and you know your shit. You were simply talking with me. Go into that room with your examiner and think of it as a chat.

"As with every checkride, be smart, but also be prepared to learn. Smitty has to be damn-near eighty years old, and he's still the sharpest pilot I've ever known, so, remember, he's a much better pilot than either of us may ever be. Assume any mistakes he makes while acting as a mock student are intentional to see if you notice. It's all about how you critique him. Be honest, but remember, you're acting as a teacher. Demonstrate patience and observational skill."

---

Kevin was waiting on the ramp when I taxied back from the checkride the next afternoon. I'm sure he noted from the broad smile on my face I'd done well. All three of us walked into his office together.

"Mr. Mace, you done nice work as always, young man. Mr. Marlin here did a hell of a job. I hope I have a chance to see at least a few of his students come to me for their checks," Smitty said.

He opened a browser on Kevin's desktop to finish the FAA paperwork.

"Is Eric still in the shop?" I asked Kevin, anxious to share the news with him.

"Nope. His wife picked him up a few hours ago. He did as much prep on his plane as I'd let him."

A mechanic I didn't recognize poked his head into the office and said, "Kev, some really cute chick in the lounge is looking for someone named Lance Marlin?"

"He's right here. Show her in, please?"

Kevin appeared to be as curious as me. Then I saw who it was, and joy poured over me. I didn't completely realize how much I missed my girlfriend until I saw her walk in. I thought my day had been perfectly satisfying, then seeing that "really cute chick" made it doubly so.

"Leah!" I cheered happily.

She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a tender, absolutely delicious, and sorely missed kiss.

"Surprise!" she smiled broadly. "Well? How'd you do?"

"He did fine, ma'am," Smitty answered without looking up, thus stealing my thunder.

"Yay! Congratulations!" She pecked my lips repeatedly.

Smitty was largely ignoring us and continued his work. Kevin, on the other hand, seemed confused.

"Lance, are you going to introduce us?" he asked.

I kissed Leah's delicious balm-glossed lips one more time. "This is my sister."

Leah burst into laughter. I saw out of the corner of my eye how Smitty was suddenly paying attention. Leah smacked me on my shoulder.

She laughed. "Don't tell him that!"

"Leah, that's Smitty. He's the examiner I just flew with. And, of course, this is Kevin, the instructor who's taught me everything I know.

"Smitty, Kevin, this is my girlfriend, Leah Reynolds. She's an air traffic controller based at McKinney National in Texas."

Kevin shook her hand, visibly relieved to learn the truth.

"Seriously, beautiful, what are you doing here?"

"Do you think I'd want to be anywhere else? I wanted to be here in person, whether to congratulate or console you. I flew here on InterAir, and I was right. Flying GA is much more fun than commercial."

"Attagirl !" Smitty piped up, resuming his typing. His voice and demeanor caused me to imagine him chomping on the butt of a cigar.

Leah said, "I used to hear the name Smitty when I worked at Wiley Post. You wouldn't happen to be the infamous Felix Smith, would you?"

I saw his jaw slacken, and I envisioned the imaginary cigar stub dropping into his lap. He looked squarely at her.

"You know me?" he said in his gravelly voice.

"By reputation and radio only, sir. Now that I know who you are, your voice is absolutely unmistakable," she said, walking toward the desk to shake his hand.

She continued, "I worked at PWA for about five years, but transferred to TKI a few years ago. I'd need a few dozen hands to count the number of times I've heard your voice over the com doing checkrides."

"That's very nice of you, young lady. And, my. If I'd have ever associated what I see before me with your voice, I guarantee I'd remember yours, too."

I chuckled at him. "Mind your business."

"I still remember some of the cues you'd use with us when you were about to do something unusual so the student wouldn't have a clue," she said.

He smiled a gap-toothed grin.