Temporary Girlfriend: The Flight Instructors Ch. 02

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Megan re-joins Mile High Club.
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Romantic1
Romantic1
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This is the second sequel to the Temporary Girlfriend series. The main characters have been introduced in the initial story and, if you're new to this series, you will find your enjoyment enhanced by reading that first. Please vote and comment. Enjoy life.

*

Dave Lafontaine stood at one of the white boards; the board filled with the circuitry of the entire electrical system of the Cessna Citation I'd been learning about all week. He finished off one last thought about the tutorial he'd been giving me, "So, if the ground power is on and the auxiliary power unit or APU doesn't start, this relay will never trip and put the aircraft on its own power source."

I nodded. I'd taken about twenty pages of notes from Dave's two-hour tutorial.

"Now one more question for you," Dave said, "How about some company for dinner? I know a neat little place just down the road that had some nice music."

"Not Horse Feathers?" I retorted.

Dave looked surprised. I told him, "I ate there last night with Greg."

Dave said, "Oh, he didn't mention where you two ate. He did say you went out and had a great conversation. He said he learned a lot and that I am to ask you to repeat everything you told him."

I laughed, "Now that's a tall order. Don't you want to ask me about the Citation's systems?"

He frowned slightly and said, "Not really. I much rather get to know you better. So much of our time has been around ground school. Now let's open up Megan school so I can learn about you."

"Smooth," I told him with a grin. He grinned back now that I'd caught him in a blatant flirt.

He said, "How about I cook you dinner at my place? I am actually a pretty accomplished man in the kitchen. What do you feel like?"

"I accept your offer and I feel like an omelet with everything in the world in it," I told him.

He checked his watch and said, "I'll leave now and run by the grocery store for a few things. Give me about forty-five minutes before you leave then drive over to my place. Is that OK?"

"Yes, that'll give me time for a pass through all these notes," I rifled through the pages on my notebook. "Directions?"

Dave drew a little map. Things were pretty simple since he lived near the airport and in a condo just off the main highway.

An hour later I knocked on Dave's door. He opened the door with a smile. I moved into his arms and gave him a long kiss on the lips. I even slipped a little tongue in at the end before he had a chance to respond.

"Thank you," Dave said. "I like welcomes like that!"

I'd brought a bottle of San Pellegrino -- a sparkling water that tasted to me almost as good as some wines. Dave took the chilled bottle and poured it into two wine goblets and presented me with one. We clinked glasses, toasted each other and I sat as his kitchen counter as he went to the other side to work on dinner.

I looked around the condo, taking in Dave's decorating, art and the layout of the place. There was no doubt the unit belonged to a pilot. Around the entire room and down a hallway I could see, every piece of art tied to aviation in some way. Many of the pieces were not cheap posters but, upon closer inspection, original oils or acrylics. There were paintings of pastoral scenes from above, a pilot's perspective, with a bi-plane in a field; another of a modernistic view of the ILS lights on a runway just before touchdown; another an impressionistic piece of a jet banking away from a majestic thunderstorm -- a bolt of lightning illuminated the dark sky.

"These are good!" I exclaimed.

"Thank you," he said, "They're mine."

"They're yours? You did them all?" Dave nodded.

"You are a man of many talents. You could sell these for a lot of money. They're fantastic. I'd even like to buy the one over your mantel if it's for sale." I gestured to the plane avoiding the thunderstorm. "Heck, I'd buy most of them."

"Well, let me think about that. By the time I paint them I've fallen in love with them so much I hate to part with them. I've given a couple away for charitable reasons -- silent auction and such -- but never sold any. One went for $725 at a silent auction."

"Just give me first dibs," I asked.

"If you try the powder room and the master bedroom you can see some of my photographic work too. Those pieces are not related to aviation as you'll see." He gestured down the short hallway.

The bathroom had some black and white and sepia portraits of older people. Every one of the photos captured a mood, a look, a depth into the person's personality; the all showed an awesome ability with the camera. I had to tear myself away from the seven photos.

Further down the hallway I entered the master bedroom. The pictures on the wall showed the same skill and ability to capture a mood. In this case, however, the photographs were larger and of varying sizes. Each captured an erotic scene of a man and woman making love and even in their orgasms.

The photos required study in some cases to verify what you were seeing: the woman's pussy, a tongue and a flaccid cock covered in juices, legs locked behind a back as two bodies moved so fast their bodies blurred, breasts with erect nipples, two nude females kissing, and so on. Each photograph displayed a sensuous aura and inspired.

I strolled back to the kitchen. I said to Dave, "Trying to inspire me?"

He laughed. "Ah, you found the pictures in the bedroom. I took those about two years ago."

"Are you the guy?"

"Yes," he said.

"Two women?" I asked.

"They were a package. I loved both of them -- still do, but they moved away about a year ago. They lived next door but we all slept in that bed most of the time."

"Ménage a trois," I stated. Dave nodded.

"So did Greg tell you about our conversations last evening?" I asked.

He chuckled, "He said you and I shared a common philosophy about relationships only you explained it more clearly than I did."

"We talked about open relationships quite a lot," I told him. "I had to shift Greg's definition of the term from thinking it was just about sex to a unique partnership that touched every aspect of your life. You share yourself but remain independent and strong."

"I think he got that now, and you do say it better than I could," Dave offered.

"Did he say anything about the relationship I have with Josh?" I asked.

"No, but from his comments on the discussion I presume you and Josh have an open relationship."

"We do." I paused and asked, "Are you in a relationship now? Anyone special?"

"I am a man without portfolio," Dave said with a smile. "I know that will change some day but I'm not rushing it. I find it hard to find a girl that can handle an open relationship. Most women I meet want an exclusive, monogamous, stereotypical TV Pleasantville, little house and picket fence relationship. I know I'd get tired of that in about a week."

"Go on," I said.

"The person or persons would probably be professional women, because they'd be meeting and dealing with other people. It'd hone their personalities and make them stronger. There wouldn't be time for petty jealousies or arguments. We'd talk openly about everything. The level of respect would be awesome. We share all the traditional roles that make up a relationship. We look for and share peak experiences."

"What about your friends -- in the photos?"

"Marlene and Kim," Dave said. "I thought they were lesbians until they opened up to me. They taught me a lot about relationships and helped me clarify what I'm looking for. Marlene got transferred to San Diego with Bank of America. Kim is a strategy consultant and can work from anyplace with an airport. I miss the two of them but they had the stronger and longer ties. It wouldn't have been right for me to hold them back, particularly Marlene -- it was a big promotion. I've gone out to see them twice but it's not the same as being involved with each other on a daily basis."

I went around to Dave and he opened his arms to me. We kissed very tenderly and then more passionately, adding our tongues to the kiss to reinforce our feelings for each other.

Dave finally said, "If you continually molest the cook you won't get your dinner! What you seem interested in is called dessert and I am as intrigued by that thought as you apparently are."

I kissed the end of his nose and went back to my chair. Dave finished chopping mushrooms, peppers, onion, parsley, and a few other things, leaving each in piles around the edge of the cutting board. Our eggs flew into a dish and he used a whisk to bubble them, gradually adding some of the chopped ingredients as well as many herbs and spices.

We ate side by side at the counter. We kissed often.

Dave said, "Megan, you are one interesting person, and I guess Josh must be too. I am grateful to Josh and the Universe for sharing you with me tonight." We kissed again. He said, "What will you tell him?"

"Well, first, you should know that Josh knows I'm with you tonight. He told me -- us -- to have fun and enjoy each other. When I'm back there, I'll tell him every little detail -- every detail I can remember. He gets really hot when I tell him about having sex with someone else. He gets bigger, lasts longer, and cums more often than the times we do plain vanilla sex."

Dave looked surprised but accepted the statement.

"Second," I went on, "we've used you -- and Greg -- in some of our sexual fantasies. Both of you excited me when I took my advanced ratings a month ago. I told Josh and that led to involving you as we talked and fantasized during sex. I knew a month ago we'd be making love like tonight."

"I'm flattered," Dave said. "Wish I could have been there."

I turned to face him and said, "You're here now. Now is all there is. Make love to me."

We went in Dave's bedroom -- the room with the pornographic art. As I looked at each picture again and let my arousal sweep over me, Dave undressed me. I undressed him and we rubbed each other's bodies together for a long time, exploring and learning about each other's hot buttons and erogenous zones.

We made love twice that night and I stayed over night, nestled in Dave's arms. When we went to sleep Dave's long cock remained deep in my pussy. I woke up a couple of hours later and it was still there. I used my vaginal muscles to clench and squeeze his flaccid rod. I felt the blood surge into it and soon his cock declared to me that it wanted to fuck.

"Fuck me, Dave," I whispered. "Make love to me again ... and again."

We made love a third time before falling asleep wrapped together, his cock still in my pussy. I liked this man, his style and his philosophy.

*

Dave and I showered together in the morning. I felt wantonly wonderful after our night of sex and wandered around the apartment nude as Dave, equally unclad, fixed us some cereal, juice and coffee for breakfast.

There was a knock on the door. Dave didn't look surprised, but wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to the small foyer to open the door. I sort of hid in the hallway lest I display my nudity to whoever was calling at this early hour.

"JOSH!" I blurted out as I saw who the visitor was. I ran across the living room and threw myself into his arms; wrapping my svelte body around his. We kissed several times -- hard.

"Oh my God, what are you doing here?" I asked as I uncurled from his body.

Josh hooked his hands beside my breasts and stimulated my tits with his thumbs until the nipples were standing at attention.

"I missed you. I knew you'd be finishing up today or tomorrow. I caught a ride out here in Mel Reynolds Learjet late last night only he had to drop someone off at Midway so it was real late when I got here."

"Where'd you sleep?" I asked.

"In your bed," he said. I gave him my sad face.

"You should have told me; I would have waited for you with open legs," I said. He and Dave laughed.

"I wanted you and Dave to enjoy yourselves. I knew you were here. I talked to Dave just before you guys went to dinner last night and told him -- as I told you -- to enjoy each other. Don't forget we've known each other for about five years -- since I got into high powered aviation."

Dave said, "Breakfast for three is served." This time we ate at the table; two of us nude, and Josh in slacks and a sport shirt.

As we talked Dave slipped away with the dirty dishes and then down the hall. He reappeared a few minutes later. "Just pull the door behind you when you leave. It'll lock automatically. Have fun yourselves. Megan, we'll see you mid to late morning. I thought we'd take a flight this afternoon and work on emergency procedures; Josh come with us; Greg might come too."

Josh and I fucked like bunny rabbits as soon as Dave left his condo. I described some of Greg's and Dave's lovemaking tricks to Josh as he stroked in and out of me, getting ever harder, longer, fuller and more energetic.

I squirted when I came. I guess I'd really missed Josh. I told him I need to mark him with my juices and odor so all the other dogs would know we liked each other.

We showered and I put Dave's bed linens in his washing machine.

Josh and I arrived at the Cessna Flight Center about eleven o'clock. Greg and Dave both hailed us into the study room. Josh had brought a brief case and took a desk in the far corner and Greg, Dave and I started to talk about the jet and emergency procedures.

Greg asked, "If you lose full cabin pressurization at 40,000 feet how long do you have to get your oxygen gear on before you lose consciousness?"

I answered, "If we're above 33,000 feet the mask must provide a positive pressure of 100% oxygen otherwise it's useless and we'll black out in a seconds - probably five to ten seconds and no longer than 20 seconds. You'd have to be prepared for decompression sickness too. An immediate descent is highly recommended. The Citation can descend at 8,000 to 12,000 feet per minute in an emergency. A blowout at 20,000 feet however and you wouldn't even have time to write your name unless you went on pure oxygen almost immediately -- or had a short name."

Both men nodded. "Good answer," Dave said, "Megan, tell us about the Yaw Damper?"

"The unit smoothes out the tendencies of some aircraft to Dutch Roll. On some aircraft, it is on all the time; on others like the Citation you turn it off for takeoff and landing so the pilot can use full rudder deflections, particularly in crosswinds, without fighting the damper. The damper on the Citation works on both hydraulic systems A and B."

Greg nodded and offered up the next question. The two guys alternated for over an hour. When I hesitated on an answer, one or the other would leap to the white board and give me a two-minute tutorial on the subject. I noticed Josh looking over occasionally with a smile, particularly when I got an answer correct.

The four of us had lunch and in the airport's Spartan sandwich shop and then I went to prepare the jet for a two-hour flight up over Montana and back to Wichita. I filed the flight plan and asked for a block of airspace unusually large to accommodate some training maneuvers.

An hour later I sat in the left seat as I directed the white, streamlined jet through twenty-four thousand feet.

Greg calmly told me as I leveled out, "I booked your flight test."

"Oh, my God," I stated nervously, "When?"

"Tomorrow, one o'clock to three o'clock. Ralph Hinson will be the examiner. You've never met him but he's fair but tough. He'll give you a work out."

"Am I ready?" I asked Dave who stood behind me in the tight cockpit space.

"More ready than I was," Josh offered as he wedged himself in the tight space behind me. "I listened to you the past month and then today. You really know this plane. I'd go anywhere with you, anytime, with you as pilot in command."

I felt my self-confidence take a little leap.

Greg reached over a pulled the throttle back on the starboard engine. "OK. You've just had lost an engine ... and don't actually shut down the engine."

I went into automatic mode, reciting one of the fifty checklists of various lengths for the plane. After we'd started a smooth descent towards a nearby airport, in this case a diversion to Omaha, I pulled out the written checklist and read each item aloud as we slowly descended. Greg eventually stopped the descent and brought us back up to twenty-four thousand.

For half an hour we played a very stressful game where one of the three guys would pose an emergency situation and I'd respond, walking them through every step to bring the craft to safe conclusion.

Finally, my bladder could stand it no longer. Diet cokes do that to me. I said, "I've got to use the little girl's room for a minute; one of you fly this beast." We all maneuvered so I could slide my seat back and head towards the back of the plane. Josh slid into the captain's seat.

As I shut the door I heard Josh ask Greg and Dave, "Do you guys belong to the Mile High Club?" For some reason that question sent a jolt of sexual energy through my body. When I peed, I noticed I'd become unusually wet with my vaginal juices.

I washed my hands at the small sink, dried them with a paper towel and opened the bathroom door. There stood Greg and Dave naked and heading my way. Both had lovely lecherous looks on their face.

"There's an old tradition about getting your type rating that we haven't told you about," Greg said as he leaned in to kiss me.

"Yes," Dave said, "it has to do with conducting Mile High sex with your flight instructors."

I played a little dumb as I reached for Greg's cock, "But I already joined the Club with my 'temporary boyfriend.' Do I have to join again?"

"Oh yes," Dave said, "This is different. Flight instructors are very different people and thus this ceremony -- a true and important rite of passage -- imbues you mystical powers that you will retain for your entire flying career."

By now I'd unbuttoned my blouse. I shrugged it from my shoulder. I was braless. "I guess we better hurry then," I said as I kissed Dave and fondled his cock as well.

My skirt came off and my thong. I stood nude before Greg and Dave. I saw Josh take a long peek back into the cabin and give me thumbs up and an "OK" sign. I blew him a kiss.

Dave guided me to one of the short sofa in the passenger area. It wasn't full length, however, I could recline on it, thrusting my pussy into the aisle of the plane. Dave knelt and leaned in, drilling his tongue into my pussy.

Greg knelt on the sofa next to me and I leaned towards him and inhaled his cock into my mouth. I could feel the surges of blood enter his piece as I sucked. Soon he had a raging erection. I nursed his erection, playing various games to keep him hard and to make him what I call super horny. He headed that way pretty fast.

"Switch with me," Greg asked Dave. The men smiled at each other. Greg knelt in front of me and replaced Dave's laps and aggressive tonguing of my pussy. Dave presented me his rising penis and soon I had his cock harder than rebar.

I felt Greg move up my body and then as I deep-throated Dave, I felt Greg's cock sink into my pussy. I moaned into the penis in my mouth.

"Oh, you feel so warm and wet, Megan. I love loving you!" Greg told me.

Greg delivered an orgasm to me, smooth and nice; the kind you'd write home to your incestuous sister-in-law. 'I must tell Fiona about this,' I thought, preferably as we're fucking each other.

"My turn," Dave whispered. Greg jerked his shaft from my tunnel and another jolt of sexual energy went through me. Dave's response to that was to jam his cock into me as fast as he could. Another jolt rang through my body.

"Oh fuck, guys. I love this; don't stop!" I told them in my sexual haze.

Dave stroked away at me, and then moved me so I was reverse cowgirl. This way Greg could see all the sexy looks on my face and if Josh peeked he could watch us fucking. Josh peeked -- a lot.

Romantic1
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