The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 16l

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Paul takes a trip to North Africa.
3.7k words
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Part 54 of the 122 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 01/31/2001
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PAUL C
PAUL C
69 Followers

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 16l: Spanish Honeymoon Part 12

My mouth felt awful. I stuck out my tongue and studied it in the mirror above the sink in the bathroom. Jenny was in the shower and I had just finished shaving.

My mouth hadn't felt like this since the time that Howie had had us smoking some of his 'wacky-baccy' when we had first visited the Caribbean.

A lot about the previous evening was blurred. I could clearly remember fucking Jenny, more than once, but other parts were confused. Had Isabella really gone down on her in front of me? Why hadn't I stopped her? Why hadn't Jenny? Why were we getting ready to go and pick her up? We had agreed we wouldn't. I could ring her and tell her. Then we could go back to bed for an hour or two. That was beginning to sound like a better plan.

Jenny was standing close behind me wrapping her arms around my waist. She was pressing her naked, wet body against my back and ass cheeks. She kissed the back of my neck and blew gently into my ear. It tickled.

I pushed my ass cheeks back against her pubic mound.

"I could go downstairs and phone Isabella and tell her we are not taking her up today?" I said reaching behind and placing one of my hands on Jenny's hip.

"I'm not certain we should do that."

"Why not?"

"You agree that there is something going on?"

She moved her fingers onto my balls.

"Yes." I agreed.

There was something going on.

"And now that we know that Rogers is living near here I could never be comfortable coming back."

That was true. I wasn't too keen on the idea either.

"When we're up in the air we can ask her." Jenny continued. "You could do some aerobatics. Loop the loop or something. We could scare her into talking."

"And rip the wings off my plane. It's not built for things like that."

"Do it gently."

Her fingers had closed around my prick and were stroking up and down its length. Pulling my foreskin back and forth. It felt too good to ask her to stop for me to turn around and face her so I remained still. Her nipples were hard against my back and her pubic mound soft against my ass cheeks. Her hand was moving faster. My ass cheeks were clenching and relaxing. I looked down at the head of my prick as it appeared and disappeared. I threw back my head and breathed deeply. I could feel my balls lifting. I closed my eyes as I came. Jenny's fingers kept up their stroking on my prick until there was nothing left to come out. I looked down. There was sperm on the edge of the sink, in my shaving water and on Jenny's fingers. She released my prick and dipped them into the water. She wriggled them about for a few seconds then used my towel to dry them.

"Come on." She said, drying her fingers on my towel. "I'll explain to Carlos what's happening."

I was glad she was going to do that. Carlos hated his plans being upset and Maria would be upset with our leaving early.

I soaped my body under the shower and stretched as the water washed the suds away. I was feeling better by the minute.

"Come on." I heard Jenny call from the bedroom. "I've brought you some coffee and toast."

I must have been standing there longer than I thought. I switched off the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and went into the bedroom.

"Herto has the car ready and he and Carlos have taken our bags down."

She handed me a cup of coffee and I looked around as I took a sip.

"You arranged all that very quickly." I remarked.

All that was left of our belongings was a pile of my clothes on the bed. Underwear, socks, safari shirt, trousers and a v-necked sweater.

I put down my cup and dried myself before starting to dress. Jenny sat watching me, eating a slice of toast.

I took a slice from the plate she was holding and bit into it. I leant over and kissed her on the mouth, licking the butter from her lips. I put my hand down to feel her breast but she brushed it away.

"No time for that." She said, taking another mouthful of toast. "Anyway. Aren't you empty?"

" I'm never empty." I boasted.

I was. I didn't want to come again. I just wanted to feel her.

I finished dressing, had another slice of toast and drank my coffee. Jenny was wearing a wrap-around skirt with a bow on either hip. I could untie those when we were in the air and if I could get her out of her knickers as well. I wondered how many times I could make her come between here and Madrid? My pricked twitched at the thought.

I watched her ass as she walked into the bathroom. I placed my passport and PPL in the breast pockets of my shirt, my wallet change and keys into the pockets of my trousers.

The toilet flushed and Jenny came out carrying my bag. I took it from her. Kissed her. Splashed some aftershave on my cheeks and body deodorant on my chest and under my armpits before handing it back to her.

I buttoned the front of my shirt and followed her from the room. Carlos and Maria were standing at the main door. Maria looked heart-broken.

"Don't cry." I told her, in Spanish. "We will be back soon."

I must have sounded confidant of that as she seemed brighten up a little. Carlos pumped my hand.

"Come back soon." He said, leading us to the car.

I sat beside Jenny in the back of the car. I saw a tear running down her cheek. She leaned her head against my shoulder.

"They're nice people." She sniffed.

I took hold of her hand.

"They are." I agreed. "We'll be back."

We needed to sort out what was going on. All the more now.

Herto pulled into the entrance to Izabella's villa. What was the best plan of action? We needed to confront her. It would be best if we could get her alone. She had lied about who Rogers was. But what else. It was too late to think.

Izabella was standing in the doorway dressed for riding. A divided skirt, black jacket and white blouse. She had class alright.

Jenny and I climbed out and we went to meet her.

"Leave this to me." I whispered to Jenny.

"What?"

She hissed back.

"My friends." Izabella exclaimed, taking two paces towards us. "Good morning to you. Have you eaten?"

"Yes, thank you." Jenny replied. "Izabella, we have some bad news."

"What Jenny means." I jumped in. "Is that after we have had our flight this morning we intend to fly back to England."

"Certainly." Izabella smiled sweetly.

I had the vision of her fanny smiling at me. The hairiest one I had ever seen.

"There will be a change of plans this morning." Izabella continued and nodded her head.

Jenny squealed and I spun around.

"Don't get excited."

Rogers was standing in front of us with the two men who had been with him in the pub. Herto was holding Jenny's arms pined to her side.

It was Rogers who had spoken.

"Do as you are told and nobody will get hurt." He continued.

"What do you want with us?" I stammered.

"We only want you to fly your plane as everyone is expecting you to do." Izabella said softly. "Please do as we ask and you will be on your way home this afternoon as planned."

I looked around for a way out. At the top of the steps that lead to the swimming pool stood Juan and Elizabeth. Inside the villa I could see Manuel.

"What do you want from us?" Jenny asked.

"We want Paul to fetch his plane, fly to the old airstrip above the convent, pick up a passenger and fly to North Africa. When he returns you will be free to go."

Izabella spoke so matter of factly, as if asking me to run a little errand for her.

I was about to ask what would happen if I didn't. I looked first at Jenny then at Rogers and his friends and decided against it.

"No harm will come to Jenny?" I directed my question at Isabella.

"Not if you do as you are told." She assured me.

Rogers stepped towards Jenny and took hold of her arm.

"You know about him?" I said. "He's wanted in England for rape and murder."

"You had better do as you are told then." Rogers snarled, looking Jenny up and down. "You've filled out. I like that. She's got a great mouth."

I threw myself at him. We all fell to the floor. I managed to hit him at least once before I was dragged away.

"You touch her and I will kill you." I threatened.

He rubbed his mouth and looked at the smear of blood that came away on the back of his fingers.

"I'll fucking have you." He felt one of Jenny's breasts.

I could see her trying not to flinch away.

"After I've had her."

"No." Izabella snapped. "That is not agreed. You are in my country now."

She didn't finish what she was going to say. She didn't need to.

"You take her to the cave." Izabella spoke to Victoria and Juan. "We will be there within the hour."

"You are not involved anymore." She continued, speaking to Rogers. "You leave now. Do not come to this area again."

"You'll need me again soon." Rogers replied looking Victoria up and down. "My price will be higher next time."

I could see Juan bristle.

"Go." Izabella commanded. "We will not need you after this week."

With a final, lingering look at each of the women in turn Rogers turned and walked to his car followed by his two friends.

"You still need us." He called to Izabella. "We'll be at the cave."

"Now for you." Izabella said after watching Rogers drive out onto the main road.

She looked at Jenny first and then me.

"I have no wish to upset you both by explaining what would happen to Jenny if I left her to those three men."

She paused for effect. It worked on me.

"What do you want?" I asked.

I knew when I was beaten. Yes, I could imagine what would happen to Jenny.

"Go and get your plane now."

She had a lovely voice. She spoke in a level tone. As if she were discussing her plans for the day with a friend.

I found myself walking to the car with Herto while Jenny was lead to Izabella's by Juan and Victoria. I tried to look cheerful and gave her a smile. She smiled back and waved to me.

Miguel was holding open the rear door of Izabella's second car for her to enter. Perhaps she was going riding.

I sat next to Herto as he drove to the aerodrome. A large jet was landing at the main airport. Probably full of holidaymakers.

I could see my plane standing outside of the main hanger. It looked smart in its new coating of red and white paint. I went into the office and logged a flight plan. Pleasure flying in the morning then to Madrid after lunch.

I pocketed the spare set of keys that I had left so the mechanics could do their work. Signed the expense sheet. Carlos would settle that. Then wished everyone goodbye and walked out to the aeroplane.

Herto had stowed our suitcases on the rear seat and was standing by the car. I found myself ignoring him. I climbed into the pilot's seat, switched on and contacted the tower. Following their instructions I taxied to the end of the secondary runway.

I tried to think what to do. I could contact the police. There was no time for things like that. A voice in my ear was telling me to take off. I pushed the throttle forward and looked for a point at the far end of the runway. The broken white lines came faster and faster. I looked down at the instrument panel. Oil pressure was fine. Speed was fine. With one hand on the throttles I pulled back on the control column with the other. I was up.

I climbed steadily then banked to turn towards Malaga harbour. I could see the fish market on the old jetty. My father and grandfather had both killed men on that jetty.

I was over Malaga. It looked so clean from this height. There was our villa. I wondered if it worried Maria that she never found any blood on our sheets.

I flew over the next valley and followed it up to the ruins of the old convent. There were some cars parked in the shadow cast by the ruined walls. I breasted the top of the valley and looked down. I could see the airstrip. I imagined what it would have looked like with a squadron of German bombers parked ready to launch a surprise attack on Gibraltar.

Somebody had lit a small fire to show me the strength and direction of the wind. I turned into it and lost altitude rapidly. The ground rushed up to meet me. The plane bounced on the uneven surface but I was down. There was a group of people waiting under some trees so I taxied towards them. I knew them all with the exception of one man. Even his face looked familiar.

Jenny ran to me and threw herself into my arms. I kissed her.

"You be very careful." She said, sniffing back some tears.

I felt a pain inside my chest as if something was about to burst. I couldn't trust myself to speak so I just stood there and held her tight.

Victoria was talking in Spanish to the stranger. She handed him a map and a cardboard shoebox. The stranger climbed into the front passenger seat. I saw him place his shoebox amongst our suitcases. Juan placed his hand on Jenny's shoulder and pulled her away from me. There were tears running down her cheeks.

"I'll be back soon." I tried to reassure her. "Don't worry."

Victoria was speaking to me.

"Your passenger will show you the map once you are airborne. Your course is marked upon it."

Her voice was a little lighter then Izabella's.

Jenny was being dragged away by Juan. I saw Rogers walking towards her. I climbed back into my seat. Rogers was talking Jenny. I think she was going to run towards me but Juan and Rogers were holding her. I placed my hand on the handle of my door.

"Take off now." The man sitting next to me said in Spanish. "Please."

I turned my head and saw the revolver in his hand. I looked out again. Rogers had Jenny slung across his shoulder. I could see his hand on her ass cheeks, holding her in place.

Victoria was standing just beyond the wing tip.

There were too many. I could do nothing here. I switched on the engine and turned the plane around and taxied to the end of the strip. I turned again to face into the wind and took off.

I looked down and saw the small group making its way along a path to the head of the valley in which the old convent stood. I tried to gauge the distance and convert it into time. Something was knotting up my insides.

I switched on the radio set. It was dead.

"You do not need that." The man said.

I hadn't seen him do anything to it but he must have.

"Follow this course." He said, handing me the map.

I looked at it. Somebody had drawn a straight line to a small port on theNorth African coast. About ten miles inland from it they had drawn a circle.

"I need to know wind speed and direction." I said, pointing at the radio.

He seemed to think for a few seconds.

"It is broken." He finally replied.

"Thanks."

"Keep low."

He pointed towards the sea.

"Very low."

I put our nose down and watched the airspeed indicator and altimeter climb and fall. We flew out over Malaga bay at less than five hundred feet. I pushed the throttle full open. The sight of Rogers hand on Jenny's ass cheeks wanting me to get every ounce of speed from the plane. Every now and then we would bounce as we hit a warmer column of air rising from the surface of the sea.

Oh, why hadn't I just phoned the police earlier? I was out of my depth and I knew it.

We passed over a trawler. I tried to judge the wind speed and direction from the smoke from its stack. I turned a few degrees from my course. I saw his fingers tighten on the butt of his revolver. I straightened up again.

The sea below looked so clear. In stark contrast to the previous time I had flown a plane over it. That had been in Jamaica, in a stolen seaplane, with Carol giving birth in the back.

Nothing could look more peaceful than this scene.

I looked into the far distance. It looked very cloudy. I didn't know much about the Sahara but I did know it didn't rain there very much. I could taste sand. We were heading into a sandstorm.

"I must climb." I said. "There is a sandstorm ahead."

"No." He lifted his revolver. "They will see us on their radar."

"We are too far from Spain." I had to think of something. "They would think we came from North Africa."

I didn't know if that was true but one thing I did know. The engine wouldn't last ten minutes if I tried to fly through a sandstorm.

The coast was approaching. I could see some boats heading towards the shore. I turned slightly to place myself on their course. There was a small town ahead. All the buildings were made from the same, soft, yellow sandstone.

I pulled back on the control column. The nose of the plane rose. I looked down. Suddenly the town had vanished. Covered in a vast cloud of dust and sand. I throttled back and circled slowly at three thousand feet. I checked my fuel gauge. I'd used about a third. We could circle for an hour, I decided and still have enough to get back to Malaga.

I told him what I intended to do. He suddenly looked very worried. He looked at his watch and fidgeted with his weapon. I continued to circle. I was suddenly very hot. I could feel the sweat running down my back. I looked at my passenger. He was sweating as well. He kept looking at his watch.

I looked down at the town. Was it my imagination or could I see things clearer now? I circled again. Yes, things seemed to be settling down.

I looked at the map and headed inland. My father had told me that there had been hundreds of airstrips created all along the North African coast during the Second World War. I looked towards the ground ahead. Suddenly my passenger grabbed my arm and pointed. I looked across him to our right. I could see a red flare floating in the sky. I turned towards it. A black car was driving in a straight line across a featureless piece of desert. I dropped lower. The car stopped, turned and re-traced its steps. I got the message and flew over it, waggling my wings.

The car pulled to one side as I brought the plane into land. We bumped a few times and kicked up a lot of dust but we were down.

"Thank you."

The man said as he climbed out when I had stopped.

"You have done a great service to our cause. You will always be remembered."

I didn't want to be remembered. I wanted to get back to Jenny. He closed the door behind him and stepped back. He raised his hand in goodbye and I found myself waving back.

Fuck him. I knew who he was. Head of the separatist movement. They must have used Rogers to spring him from prison. I pushed forward the throttle and accelerated away. I pulled back on the control column and the plane lifted. I had approximately one hundred and twenty miles to go. If I hadn't had to circle over that town for half an hour I would have been nearly halfway back already.

I was going to have to get Jenny back myself. I was convinced of that. If I told the police and they believed me that the wife of one of their ministers was party to aiding in the escape of a wanted prisoner and involved in the kidnapping of my wife. It would take them time to organise a rescue party. There were thousands of caves up in those mountains.

I didn't believe they would just let us fly away.

I passed over the small town. It dazzled in the bright sunshine.

No. They weren't going to let us go. In fact they hadn't even pretended to agree a time to meet me on my return.

Did that mean I wasn't expected to return? But they hadn't made any attempt to stop me. There was something bothering the back of my mind. What was it? The best thing would be to stop trying to remember and then it would come to me.

I could see him climbing into the plane carrying the map at the shoebox.

The shoebox. He hadn't taken it with him. I looked into the rear of the plane. There it was. On top of one of Jenny's suitcases. I reached back. It was out of reach. There could be nothing in it of course. Perhaps it was just his personal possessions.

I looked at the box again. It suddenly looked sinister sitting there.

PAUL C
PAUL C
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