The Future is in the Air Ch. 03

"Oh, now I understand," I said, remembering a radio call he'd made which I thought unusual. "Like when you asked the tower for a Papa Oscar Lima approach during my commercial check?"

"I remember that one," Leah said. "It means a simulated power-off landing, asking for a close downwind, tight base and final," Leah recalled.

"Attagirl !" Smitty said again, laughing hoarsely. "You're giving away my secret code!"

"Pay attention to your typing, Mr. Smith. We almost done here?"

"One … more … second …" he said, then turned toward the ink jet printer which spat out a page.

"Here's your temporary license," he said, handing it to me after he signed it. I'd given $900 in cash to him that morning to pay his fee for the exam.

"Smitty, thank you so much for your insights. Today was both educational and extremely fulfilling," I offered. "And Kevin, I owe you a ton."

"No, you don't, Lance. You earned your keep."

My girlfriend and I walked out of the building hand in hand.

"Leah, it would be my utmost pleasure to be your flight instructor. It's entirely up to you, and I'll be totally, completely, and absolutely supportive of your endeavor whether I'm your instructor or not."

"Ugh ! Fine !" she said with humorous and dramatic flair.

"You sure?" I asked.

"I am, Lance. I can't imagine it being anyone else."

I smiled and pumped my fist, earning another sweet giggle. It also earned me more PDA in the parking lot.

"If you want to fly us back to Dallas instead of going on InterAir, you'd be able to officially log the flight as the first in your logbook."

She laughed gleefully. "Oh, that'd be awesome !"

Since she'd parked her car at Love Field, we landed there instead of McKinney, which also gave her some Class Bravo airspace training. An FBO agent drove her to the other side of the airport because her car was parked in the airline terminal parking garage. I flew myself back to McKinney and arrived at my house about twenty minutes before Leah.

"Good lord, Lance, I've been craving you so bad," she said after I ushered her through my door.

She wrapped her arms tightly around me, grasping at my backside as I did the same with hers.

"Wanna go play around?" I said, wagging my eyebrows at her.

"You bet I do, but not until you've made it official," she said, waving her new logbook at me. She'd bought it at Mace Aviation's pilot supply shop before we left.

Into it, I wrote the christening entry. The remarks read, "First official instructional flight." I added more detail on the specifics, signed it, and added my license number with the brand-spanking-new CFI suffix.

I'd update my own logbook later.

"I doubt many student pilots' first logged flight includes Class Bravo and a long cross-country," I said with the realization of the oddity. "I bet most spend the first few hours with simple familiarization and operation, which you've already mastered.

"You know, this might get boring for you after a while. The regulations require a minimum of forty flying hours in various situations before the checkride. You're already so good at the basics, we won't need to spend much time on them. So, I'll have to come up with something."

"Come up with something? You can start by cumming up me."

"Oh, you're a naughty little lady. Are you trying to seduce your teacher?" I said, reaching around her to palm and squeeze her beautiful butt.

"You bet your ass I am," she said, grinning, cupping, and squeezing mine.

I picked her up off the floor and slung her over my shoulder. I playfully swatted her awesome ass as I carried her to my bedroom. She shrieked and laughed, slapping mine with both her hands with every step.

I deposited her on my bed. Her face was reddened both from her brief inversion and gleeful laughter.

"Lance, I need to tell you something," she said as her laughter eased.

"Sure, baby, what's up?"

"I love you," she said very softly.

I didn't know if it was shock or surprise, but I was stunned to frozen silence.

"I said I love you, Lance." She smiled so tenderly and sweetly.

I felt my heart flutter.

"Uh … this is getting a little uncomfortable," she nervously said after a few more moments of my stare.

"Oh. Oh! Holy hell , Leah! I love you, too!"

She stood from the bed, wrapped her arms around me, hugging me softly and warmly.

My tear ducts went into action. She heard my ragged inhale.

"Lance, don't you dare cry, 'coz I will, too!"

"I love you, Leah," I whispered, only partially successful in regaining my composure.

I drew back to look at her, palming her face in my hands. She was, indeed, shedding tears of her own.

"I love you, too," she said slowly and softly, but with absolute conviction.

"Just … wow!" I said in utterly happy surprise. "What happened? I mean … when I left, you were … Maybe I shouldn't question it, but⁠—"

"I started realizing it the very day you left. When I handed you off to departure, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I know it was only one day after telling you I couldn't say it back to you, but my heart felt heavy when you switched over.

"Plus, even though we talked or FaceTimed almost every day you were gone, your absence made me feel hollow inside. I can't tell you how many times I cried after we'd hang up.

"It fully came to me when I saw you today. When I saw the look of complete surprise and joy on your face when you saw me, and the way you kissed me, standing there in front of those guys with no inhibitions? It freaking clinched the whole thing.

"I felt restored . And it looked like you felt the same way."

"I couldn't have put it better myself."

"I've been an absolute dipshit. I should have told you that night when⁠—"

"No. No! You shouldn't have, and no, you haven't been. What you just said means so much more to me because I know you mean it."

I studied her sweet expression carefully for several moments, letting it wash over me like warm water.

"Leah, now I can't fool around with you. I can't have sex with you," I said evenly.

"No? Why not?" she said, appearing crestfallen.

"Because now I can make love with you."

"Alrighty then," she said, playfully pushing me into my bed.

She began removing her clothes.

I took her hands away because I wanted to do it myself.

With each successive undone button of her blouse, I kissed her skin. From her collarbones, down her breastbone, the little ribbon of fabric between the cups of her bra, down her flat tummy, I kissed all the way to her jeans which I unfastened.

I carefully tugged the tail of her shirt free, and she let it slip from her shoulders to the floor.

The jeans she was wearing were button-fly, and my kisses followed each. The fit was snug, so I required her assistance in lowering them past her hips. I nuzzled my nose against her mons, smelling hints of her pussy through the fabric covering it. I could feel the texture of her fur underneath.

Studying her, standing in front of my knelt form wearing nothing but those sexier-than-hell crisp-white cotton panties and matching bra, I said, "Good lord, Leah. You could be a model, you know that?"

"Thank you," she whispered, running her fingers through my hair.

I turned her hips, unfastened the clasp of her bra, then studied her little bottom.

"You are so incredibly beautiful, Leah. You really, really, are," I cooed. "I could lick yogurt off this fine ass," I said, then immediately grimaced at my own words.

"Ugh! Gross !" she growled.

"Sorry. Should have said honey," I said, tracing my nose along the elastic where it met her cheeks. I softly nipped at her flesh, then nuzzled into her cleft.

"You've so totally turned me on," she whispered.

"Show me."

She bent at her hips, bringing the gusset of her panties into full view. I traced my finger down its center, finding her entrance by touch alone. The small wet spot I found grew slightly as the absorbent cotton blotted her pussy's opening. I felt the heat and moisture first with my fingertips, then my nose as I buried it into her folds and sniffed heavily.

"Oh, Leah," I groaned in reflex before I pulled her panties over her hips and off her feet. "You smell so heavenly," I hissed.

"It's my turn," she whispered, turning around and helping me stand.

She pulled my sweatshirt over my head, then began working on my jeans.

"I can feel you already," she said, tracing my erection hidden behind a pocket. She rubbed it softly, watching my smile.

She shimmied my jeans down my legs. The head of my penis had escaped the waistband of my briefs.

"Well, hello there," Leah whispered, leaning slightly forward, licking my glans.

I sighed at the gentleness of her touch as she tongued into my meatus.

She finished lowering my briefs, studying my bobbing erection.

"Your cock is so perfect," she whispered, tracing her finger down one of the visible veins. She supported my scrotum in her hand, very gently palming my testicles.

She brought my shaft to her mouth and suckled the three inches she could fit.

"Go easy, girl. Remember, it's been almost a month since I've seen you," I panted.

She held my hips and simply palpated my dick in her mouth. I could feel every bud and bump on her tongue slowly rasp on its sensitive underside.

"Come here, honey. I want to lick you," I said, encouraging her to recline onto the bed.

She did as I asked, opening her legs widely with her feet propped on the edge.

I parted her lips with my thumbs and pushed my tongue into her. She was deliciously tangy, visibly aroused, and her little pea was heavily engorged. I slowly stroked its sides with my tongue, pulling its little cloak upward. I softly licked her clit, feeling her hips pivot in my hands, focusing the pressure where she wanted it.

"Yes yes yes," she panted as she neared the cliff. She yelped the eff word as she fell off its edge.

I spent several glorious moments softly kissing her beautifully plump pussy, marveling at its shape, appearance, flavor, and aroma.

"Lance," she whined. "I thought you said you were going to make love to me."

"I am, baby. I love giving you pleasure. I love hearing you pant when you're close. I love how your body quivers when you cum. I love how you smell, and how you taste. Your yummy bits and pieces are so very pretty.

"But your truest beauty goes well beyond your appearance. I love your spirit. I love your humor. I love your attitude, your bearing, and your soul. I love your everything."

"Don't make me cry again. I want you ins⁠—I need you inside me. Please. You make me feel whole when we're connected."

She remained where she was, but scooched even closer to the edge of the bed and held her knees.

Her opening was at the perfect height for me to penetrate her. She was so warm, slick, velvety, and perfectly snug. I didn't think I'd be able to last long.

"I am freaking close," I whispered, holding still and breathing myself away from the point of no return. "You're so perfect, Leah."

It only took a few minutes to arrive at the edge again as I enjoyed the sensation and texture of her tunnel, slowly withdrawing and re-entering her, watching her lower tummy change shape slightly when I nudged her cervix with the head of my dick. I was mesmerized watching her opening stretch around my girth, partly following it as I pulled outward, and disappearing into her when I pushed. My shaft was glossy with the sheen of her dew.

"I. Do. Love. You." she said with a deliciously sexy smile after another orgasm.

Her words struck a perfect chord, and my skin tingled in harmony with it. I plunged heavily into her, hearing my bed's frame rapping against the wall. I erupted against her womb, quivering and quaking.

Still connected, I leaned forward into her outstretched arms. She gripped me fully in an exquisite embrace and kissed my sweating forehead. My calves ached trying to support myself in the odd stance. Leah stroked my back and shoulders, and, sensing my imbalance, shuttled herself a few feet up the bed where I rejoined her. I wanted to stay inside her body while I softened.

"My love, thank you for being patient with me," I whispered into the dark room.

"Patient with you? What did I do?"

"You let me be me, and you let me get away with it," I answered.

"I've fallen in love with a man who's incredibly genuine and loving and warm and tender and loves me for who I am and … well, the totem pole doesn't matter to me anymore."

The lesson plans I'd developed for my CFI examination weren't at all suitable for Leah. I had to create those plans on the typical presumption of a complete novice, which Leah was far from.

I tailored what I'd created. She and I began her unique path down the road of earning her Private Pilot, Airplane, Single Engine Land license.

Since I returned to the office immediately after my goals were completed, Leah and I were limited to flying together only when she was off during the week, in which case we'd go fly after I left the office. Early on, it was challenging since sunset was so early. We might have had an hour of useful light.

If she was working on one of my weekend days, though, we'd go fly for an hour or two before her shift started.

Leah soaked up everything. She had the knack. In fact, hazarding a guess, I'd say she picked up things faster than I did when I first started training. She absolutely nailed turns-around-a-point and was only slightly perturbed by S-turns across a line. She'd have plenty of time after her first solo to polish those skills.

We did hit a roadblock on one of our flights, though.

We spent the first fifteen or twenty minutes practicing stall avoidance and recovery, then I began the preliminaries to demonstrate steep turns, those where the bank angle remains a constant forty-five degrees. We talked at length about them on the ground before we launched.

When we arrived at the practice area, I said, "I'll do a few with some commentary. I'll roll in, pulling back on the yoke to maintain pitch, adjust trim a few seconds on the nose-up switch, using the point where the horizon meets the cowl as a fixed reference. Other than that, this isn't a ground reference maneuver, so it doesn't matter if we drift in the wind.

"We'll keep our eyes outside the cockpit, with occasional glances at the altimeter and attitude indicator to make sure we're meeting the criteria. I'll use that big red barn way out in front of us as my cue to turn back to entry heading.

"We'll know how well we did if we feel a solid bump as we complete the full turn because we'll hit our own wake. I'll do the first one to the left."

I began to roll the plane, feeling my mass begin to settle more deeply into the cushion with the increased g-forces.

As I settled into the steep turn, I noticed Leah staring straight out my side window with wide eyes. Her hands were gripping the glare-shield so tightly the rubber was deforming. Her fingertips were white.

I didn't think too much about it in the moment. I finished the maneuver, and was rewarded with the predicted bump of the wake encounter.

I did another one to the right, with equally satisfying results, but apparent agitation in my student's demeanor.

"Alright, your turn."

"Can we do something different? I'm feeling a little woozy."

"Um … sure. Think you're up for some touch-and-goes?"

"Yeah. I think so."

We spent the next forty-five minutes doing exactly that. I had to give the controls very subtle nudges during her first two approaches, providing feedback while mildly intervening.

On her fourth circuit, she had the plane so perfectly trimmed, centered, and stable, I committed myself to not touch anything, and simply gave her verbal guidance.

"Pull back slowly … slowly … hold it there … wait for the stall horn and she'll settle right⁠—" chirp! "⁠—down. Just like that! Ease up on the yoke to lower the nose⁠—" chirp! "Good! Let's go again," I said, watching her hands.

I kept my mouth shut for the entire circuit of the pattern. Monitoring her with cautious eyes, she executed another near-perfect landing. Again, my hands and feet stayed near the controls, but didn't once need to touch them. She'd landed on her own.

On the crosswind after that touch-and-go, I simply mentioned to her, "That was your very first completely unassisted pattern." I tried to sound neutral and unimpressed, though I was beaming with pride of my own on the inside.

"What ? You let me do it all by myself?" She almost sounded frightened.

"I sure did. The one before was hands off, only coaching. Your last one didn't need any of that."

"Well, crap ! We should have made it a full-stop and ended on a high note!"

I laughed. I suspected what would happen next, and it did, but I wasn't concerned when she climbed above pattern altitude and came in high over the threshold. It only meant we landed about a thousand feet farther down the runway than the ideal.

"Full-stop," I told her. I sensed she was fatiguing.

"McKinney tower, eight lima mike is full-stop," she radioed.

"Roger, eight lima mike. Remain this frequency and taxi to park," was the abbreviated response.

During each of the following two flights, I again demonstrated steep turns as the primary objective, and Leah's apparent stress reappeared.

When she finally tried one herself, she aborted the turn before it was banked enough.

"Lance, I can't do this!" she said with exasperation in her voice.

"Okay, okay, cut yourself some slack. You're doing phenomenal work, but can you try to put into words what's holding you back on this?"

"I really don't want to talk about it right now."

"Okay. We'll figure it out. To take your mind off it, impress me with some excellent landings," I suggested.

"Oh, way to put the pressure on me!"

"Pressure? Sure. You've lost your engine," I said, pulling the throttle back to idle. I kept my hand on it to keep her from interfering and dimmed the moving map so she couldn't use it for reference.

I heard her chuckling before she said, "Too easy, dude."

"How?"

After reciting and mock-executing the emergency checklist memory items for an engine failure, she answered me.

"We just flew over Caddo Mills Airport. That was about two minutes ago. We're at forty-five hundred feet which is about four thousand feet above ground, which translates to about seven miles of glide minus this u-turn. Two minutes past the field means the airport is about four miles behind us. More than two miles to spare. Easy peasy," she said, turning the plane around to head there.

Holy crap ! Her situational awareness was incredible. I was amazed! I mean, shit ! I hold doctorates in applied physics and electrical engineering, yet, even while managing a simulated emergency, she flew through the math in her head faster than it took her to re-trim the plane for best glide.

"Okay, fine. Land us there."

She'd have successfully landed if I'd let her. Instead, I told her to go around, and take us home where she did a handful of touch-and-goes.

"Feel like a drink?"

"Hell yeah!" she said as she taxied us to my hangar. "But not at a bar. My house."

I followed her home after the post-flight chores were done.

Sitting down at her kitchen table, I filled out our logbooks as she poured us both a gin and tonic.

"Really great job today. Especially your emergency work and situational awareness," I praised.