Different Circles

And then it was time to go. He and Laura got into the Cherokee, Jake behind the wheel, and started the drive to the airport.

“I’m really glad we came here,” Jake told his wife as they motored along through the lightly travelled streets of Sunday morning Pocatello. “Your family are really nice people.”

“Yeah,” Laura said, “they really are, aren’t they?”

“I’ll admit,” he said, “I really did not want to do this, especially not when you told me we would be staying in Grace and Chase’s room, but after I got to know them a little...”

“Uh ... sweetie,” she interrupted. “While you wax philosophical about family matters and epiphanies and all that, would you mind putting your fingers on my pussy and playing with it some?”

He looked over and saw that she had pulled up the hem of her dress, exposing her vaginal region. It was freshly shaved and the most beautiful thing he had seen in Pocatello or its surrounding environs so far. “Uh ... yeah, of course,” he said, extending his right arm to the side and letting his fingers land on the bare skin of her inner thigh. He then began to move inward. He waxed philosophical no further.

They loaded their bags into the Avanti and then pushed it out of the hangar. While Laura returned the Cherokee to the rental car area, Jake arranged for a fuel truck to come over and pump his tanks half-full—enough for the flight to San Luis Obispo with a ninety-minute emergency reserve. He then walked back over to the general aviation terminal and filed his flight plan.

They roared into the air at 11:05 AM, turning to the southwest and climbing in steps to their cruising altitude of thirty-two thousand feet. Flight time was to be one hour and fifty-five minutes, which would have them touching down at SLO Regional at noon Pacific time.

“All right,” Laura said once they were well settled into cruise flight under control of the autopilot. “Let’s figure out how to do this thing.”

“I need to be able to see the instruments at all times,” Jake said. He was having doubts about what they wanted to do—it went against every lesson he had ever been taught about flying an aircraft—but he was also extremely horny and really wanted to plant his member someplace soft and warm. “And I need to be able to quickly get back in my seat if something happens.”

Laura nodded. “I guess that only leaves us with one real option then.”

They unstrapped from their restraints and got out of their seats. Laura positioned herself so her feet were in the aisle just behind the cockpit seats. She leaned forward, so she was leaning over the back of the seats, one arm on the pilot chair, one on the copilot chair. Jake positioned himself right behind her, so he could see over her to the cockpit instruments and out the windshield. He had set the communication radio so it would emit through the speaker instead of the headset just in case Salt Lake Center needed to talk to him. He then lifted the hem of her dress up, exposing her butt and her heavenly gate. He stroked her a few times, relishing the feel of her and getting the blood flowing where it needed to flow. He then unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, pushed them and his underwear down to his knees, and took himself in hand. A moment later, he was inside of his wife and thrusting.

“Oh yesss,” Laura moaned as he gripped her hips and pounded in and out. “This is so fucking hot, sweetie. Fuck me harder!”

He fucked her harder, the speaker spouting out instructions and enquiries between ATC and other aircraft—most of them commercial carriers—as they bumped and bounced a bit in the high-altitude air. It made Jake nervous to be out of his seat during flight and unable to instantly respond in an emergency, but that nervousness just added to his enjoyment of the encounter. He was already congested from going three nights without even masturbating (Laura wouldn’t let him do that in Grace and Chase’s room either) so it did not take him long before orgasm started to approach. He barely hung in long enough for Laura to climax before he was pouring his backlog into her body.

“All right,” Laura said with a contented sigh after they strapped back into their seats. “We are officially in the Mile-High club now.”

“Right, officially in,” Jake agreed, prudently not mentioning that he had long since been a member of that particular club, initiated into it by another redhead way back in 1982 on a flight from New York to Los Angeles.

They settled in. Jake watched the scenery passing below, though the scattered clouds made this a hit and miss activity. He expected Laura to go immediately to sleep. That was her favorite thing to do up in the air and after getting herself laid, and she had just done both. But she did not nod off. She stared out the window as well, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Everything okay, hon?” he asked her after perhaps fifteen minutes.

“Yeah,” she said, giving him an affectionate pat on the leg. “Everything is fine. I was just thinking about something.”

“What were you thinking about?” he asked.