" We reached 4000 feet, so advised Miami, and sat back for a long night of flying as I trimmed the airplane for cruise." We reached 4000 feet, so advised Miami, and sat back for a long night of flying as I trimmed the airplane for cruise. Although we were seated less than a foot from one another, we both wore headsets, which, when not being used for radio transmissions, worked as an intercom. I pressed the push-to-talk button, and, for lack of a better introduction to the night's conversation, asked Alma; "I've seen the new wings in the pilot's lounge; who's running for the president of the mile-high club?" She replied "they can't elect a president yet; all their flights have been illegal." "Illegal?" I said. "Yeah, there are only 3 members so far and they all earned their wings with a student- pilot." That was the "illegal" part of it: student-pilots were "signed-off" for solo flights, but were absolutely forbidden, by FAA rules, to carry passengers, much less engage in sexual acrobatics with them. "Funny you should mention the club," she said, "would you like to see why I asked to come on this flight?" Without waiting for an answer, she produced a small black velvet jewelry case, and handed it to me." I retrieved a small penlight from my pocket, and illuminated a set of gold wings -- with 5280 inscribed in the middle -- and hanging below, suspended by thin gold chain, three small panels inscribed: "Instrument," "Multi- Engine, and "Commercial." Alma turned to me, unfastened her seatbelt, removed her headset, and mine, put her lips to my ears, and said: "I've completed all my ground school courses, Sherlock. I can't think of anyone nicer to give me the check ride for my advanced ratings." I turned, in time to see Alma's T-shirt disappear over her head, revealing a taut pair of breasts in the red lighting of the cabin. It was only hours of training that forced my eyes back to the panel where I found the airplane 20 degrees east of its assigned heading at an altitude of 3800 feet, 200 feet below our assigned altitude. As I banked left and corrected the altitude discrepancy, I felt Alma's hand between my legs. I bent over to kiss her and soon received a warm tongue, deep in my mouth, producing the clearly intended effect beneath her hand. While Alma's`plans were perfectly clear, the associated logistics posed certain problems; the Travelair was a small aircraft, the back seats were full of mail bags, and the fact that we were on an instrument flight plan, with our progress monitored on radar, meant I would have to devote at least some attention to flying the plane. |