Flirting With Death free porn video

Sometimes I’m forced to wonder if the outrageous salary that I’m paid is REALLY worth what I have to put up with in this job. When I saw the two men dressed in off-the-rack suits heading across the tarmac of Bremerton Airport towards me, I knew it was one of those times. I sighed as they approached, resigned to what was to follow. That they were FBI agents was without a doubt. They all look alike. Did they really think that after all this time I would finally decide to tell them anything?

I turned towards the Lear Jet that I’d just parked in its accustomed stall. Its door was invitingly open. Maybe I could just hop inside and slam the door behind me. Maybe the two feds would then go away and bother someone else. But I would do no such thing. I’ve been briefed multiple times on how to deal with feds or other forms of cop. My boss was very thorough and specific in such things.

It was my boss that they were interested in of course. Anthony Ranturi III, head of the largest organized crime family in the Western Washington area. I am the pilot of Mr. Ranturi’s personal Lear Jet, a position I’ve held for the past four years. I am not a member of the Mafia. I’ve never killed anyone, delivered any d**gs, or done any other sort of criminal activity on behalf of my boss or any of his associates. I’m just a flyboy that Mr. Ranturi recruited when he purchased the Lear four years ago. Before that I’d flown Lears for an exclusive private company that catered to the stinking rich. It was there that I’d met my future boss, who’d been a frequent customer of the service.

Then, as now, Mr. Ranturi was one of the most personable and friendly people I’d ever met. He genuinely seemed to like me and, to give me a little credit, I had no idea what it was he did for a living back then. When he was alone during flights, something that had happened about half the time, he used to enjoy sitting in the co- pilot’s seat chatting with me about anything and everything. He seemed particularly fond of stories from my Navy days, when I flew C-2 Greyhounds, which were large, bulky cargo planes, off of the USS Enterprise. It wasn’t long before he was requesting me by name whenever he needed to fly. I didn’t mind at all. Mr. Ranturi was much more pleasant than most of the rich pricks I flew and he was without a doubt the best tipper.

When you talk about the Mafia, you hear a lot of joking about offers that you can’t refuse. Well, when Mr. Ranturi decided to increase his status and buy his own jet, he made me such an offer. The salary he proposed was more than SIX times what I was making as a corporate employee. In addition, he allowed me to pretty much pick out the plane and its avionics package. Now I wasn’t dumb. I knew that such an offer had to have some sort of strings attached to it. So I asked him what the catch was.

With brutal honesty he told me exactly what the catch was. He explained that he was a Mafia boss with ties to organized crime that stretched around the globe. He told me that, though he didn’t enjoy it, he’d ordered people killed before. He said that he thought I was an excellent pilot with a distinguished record (he then pulled out a file on me, explaining that he’d taken the liberty of checking a few things and he hoped I didn’t mind), that he liked me, and that he wanted me to be his personal pilot. He told me that I would not be involved in any way with his activities, although I might overhear the odd snippet of information during flights, nor would I ever be put in any position where I was breaking the law. All he asked in return was simple loyalty and the keeping of my friggin mouth shut. If I chose not to take the position, he said, he would regretfully understand.

“So what do you say?” He’d asked. “Do you need a few days to think about it?”

“I think you got yourself a pilot Sir.” I’d told him, already envisioning the new, very expensive house I was going to buy. There was no way in hell that I was going to turn down this once-in-a- lifetime offer.

For the most part Mr. Rancuri is an ideal employer. My schedule is much easier than it had been with the corporate service and the plane is much nicer too. He treats me well and has never broken any of his promises in regards to my involvement in his activities. Even his business associates, whom I’m often required to transport around from place to place, are polite and friendly in the same manner that he is. Very rarely do I encounter a snobby attitude in this position; something that had previously been an everyday occurrence.

I do however, have a few additional duties that I didn’t use to have. I’ve been issued and trained to use several pieces of equipment that flying for a corporate service didn’t require. Two types of electronic listening device detector are in my arsenal now and I check the inside of the plane as a routine part of each pre-flight check (I’ve been told that it’s almost impossible to bug an airplane because of the engine noise but apparently you don’t grow old and unimprisoned in the Mafia business by assuming anything). I also have a fuel checker, which I use to test a sample with each time I refuel the plane just to make sure nobody’s been playing with the gas. Lastly, I have Seefor, a droopy eyed, three-year-old bloodhound that has been trained to sniff out explosives. Though I’ve never seen it occur (and hopefully never will) I’m told that Seefor (his name comes from C4, a type of explosive) can sniff out as little as a tenth of a gram of explosives. Seefor was given to me by Mr. Rancuri eighteen months ago, after his training was complete (Seefer’s, NOT Mr. Rancuri’s). He flies whenever I do. When we’re not flying he stays at my house, where I feed and take care of him. My wife and two daughters love him to death and treat him as the family dog. Once a month or so he’s required to go to a compound with a handler to keep up with his training. We all miss him terribly when he’s gone.

And then there’s the FBI. They see me as a potential weak link in Mr. Rancuri’s chain that they can exploit. They always try to approach me when I’m alone. They always try to offer me a deal that, when you filter through all of the legal mumbo-jumbo, involves testifying against Mr. Rancuri or some of his associates. Sure, like I would give up all of this to be put into a witness protection program and eventually killed anyway. When this fails they ask me to simply feed them a little information now and then as a confidential informant. They try to play on my sense of morality. They always fail. I speak to them politely, as I’ve been instructed, and tell them nothing, terminating the interview as quickly as possible. I then report the contact to Mr. Rancuri, as I’ve also been instructed.

As the two agents, undoubtedly from the Seattle office, approached me, Seefor, who’d been lying beside the open doorway gave a little “woof”, raising his droopy eyebrows a tad.

“I see ’em Seef.” I told him, sighing. They hadn’t visited me in more than a year now. I’d figured that the word had spread that I was not as weak a link as they thought. However, some people never gave up apparently.

They introduced themselves, starting the interview in a polite manner. Special Agents Tanner and Jacobs were their handles. They commented on Seefor, who remained in his position by the doorway of the Lear.

“Did you know,” Jacobs asked me. “That your dog here was trained at the same facility as our bomb dogs and the customs agents d**g dogs?”

“No.” I said simply. “That’s very interesting. Seefor was a gift from my employer.”

“An expensive gift.” Tanner commented.

I shrugged, pulling out a cigar and lighting it, even though I was technically standing too close to an aircraft to legally do so. As I puffed away they went into their spiel. It was all quite predictable. When I’d heard enough I spoke up.

“Gentleman, what you’re saying is all very enlightening and all, but I DO have work to do. If you’ll please excuse me?”

“Mr. Tall,” Tanner said firmly, “We’d really like you to consider… ”

“Excuse me Agent Tanner,” I interrupted. “Am I under arrest for anything?”

“Well, no.” He told me. “But… ”

“Are you going to be holding me as a material witness or anything like that?”

“No.”

“Good.” I said. “Then I believe our discussion is about at an end. If you wish to speak to me further it will have to be at your office in the presence of my lawyer. Have a good day, gentlemen.”

“Think about what we said Mr. Tall.” They advised as they left.

“I’ll do that.” I told them, shaking my head.

I looked at Seefor, who stared back impassively. “Why didn’t you tell me,” I asked him. “That you used to hang out with fed dogs? Does the boss know about that?”

He gave me no answer except for a moist fart. With another sigh I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my cell phone, which, unlike a standard businessman’s phone, was satellite linked and digitally encrypted with a better-than-commercial scrambling program. I punched in the number for Mr. Rancuri’s office line. His secretary answered and immediately transferred me to his phone.

“Mike!” He said warmly. “Good to hear from you. Did my guests arrive safely?”

“Yes sir.” I told him (I’d just finished flying three of his associates in for a meeting of some sort). “Randy is flying them to your house in the chopper right now. Should be there anytime.”

“Good, good.” He told me. “So what can I do for you?”

“Well Sir.” I told him. “I just got a visit from a couple of FBI agents again.”

“Really?” He said, his voice not the least bit surprised. “Well I suppose that’s par for the course this week. I trust you handled it in the usual manner?”

“Of course Sir.” I assured him.

“Okay.” He said. “I’ve got an important meeting that’s going to commence when my guests arrive and you’ve got my daughter to pick up from school in a couple of hours, don’t you?”

“Yes.” I told him. “I was just going to start prepping the Lear for that flight now as a matter of fact.”

“Okay. Anything unusual about their questions today?”

“No Sir.” I told him. “The standard federal drivel, although they did comment on Seefor.” I explained what they’d said.

He chuckled at this. “It sounds like you handled it well. Why don’t you just go pick up Lisa and bring her home? I’ll debrief you when you get back.”

“Sounds good to me Sir.” I told him.

“Have a nice flight Mike.” He said. “And take good care of my daughter.”

I assured him that I would and broke the connection. With that I began prepping the plane for my flight to Palo Alto Airport in California where I would pick up Lisa Rancuri. Lisa is my boss’ nineteen year-old daughter who is a freshman at Stanford University (and classmate of the President’s daughter, interestingly enough). My task that day was to bring her home for Christmas vacation. Two days later I was assigned to fly her to Hana on the Hawaiian Island of Maui, where the Rancuri family maintained a quaint little six thousand square foot beachfront house on the leeward side. It was a house that my family and I had stayed in more than once on vacations; a pleasant perk of the job (I don’t believe the witness protection program offers anything like THAT). There were similar houses in Rio de Janeiro, South Lake Tahoe, and Cabo San Lucas. We’d stayed in them all over the past four years. Lisa however, had an affinity for Hawaii.

I’ve known Lisa since she was fifteen years old. She’s a cute, dark-haired Italian girl with more than her share of intelligence. I’d been horrified during the early years of my employment to find that she had a crush on me, figuring that Rancuri would have me killed on general principals for such a thing. But the boss knew about her infatuation and laughed it off, occasionally making joking comments on how he’d hate to have such a fine pilot as myself murdered for violating his daughter’s virtue. Though the comments were joking I was certainly smart enough to read the small grain of truth that resided within these statements. As Lisa matured and developed interests of her own, her infatuation with me seemed to recede and gradually fade away. I saw less of her once she’d gone away to college, where she was studying pre-law, eventually destined to join the family business as a mouthpiece.

I roared into the sky at 1:35 PM that day, bringing the plane up to 38,000 feet and heading nearly due south for the San Francisco Bay area. I touched down two and a half hours later at Palo Alto, keeping the plane idling on the tarmac while a limousine delivered my boss’ daughter to the doorway. She climbed aboard, carrying two large suitcases in her hands. She was wearing a red Stanford sweater and a tight pair of blue jeans which clung to her alluring lower body nicely. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail. She greeted me with a broad smile, fawning over Seefor as I stowed her luggage in the storage bin.

I’d never been alone in the plane with her before and, like her old man, she asked if she could sit in the co-pilot’s seat for the flight. I answered in the affirmative. With Seefor dozing on the floor between us, I taxied to the runway and took off once again, heading north back to the Seattle metropolitan area.

My assigned altitude was 39,500 feet. Once I leveled off and engaged the autopilot, I sat back in my chair and relaxed while Lisa chattered to me about her college experiences.

“California is so bitchin’.” She told me. “It doesn’t rain all the time, the k**s I go to college with are SO cool, and the shopping is premo.”

“So you like it there, huh?” I replied.

“You know it.” She told me. “Have you ever smoked California bud? Whooo. It’s the absolute best herb you’ll ever find anywhere. It’s even better than the shit you get on Maui.”

“Really?” I asked, somewhat taken aback. “I don’t really smoke it anymore. It’s not a very good idea when you’re a pilot that’s constantly on call.”

“I suppose not.” She told me. “But you don’t mind if I smoke some do you? You wouldn’t tell Daddy?”

“You mean here?” I asked. “Now?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, smiling. “I’ve got a joint on me that I’m just itching to burn. You’re a cool guy, aren’t you?”

I thought about it for a moment, finally deciding that if she wanted to smoke a joint in the plane, it wasn’t my concern. After all, her old man was known to snort a little cocaine on occasion (and believe me, unless you’re very rich, it’s almost impossible these days to acquire powdered cocaine) while we were up in the air. He always offered me some, which I always declined, which always seemed to impress him. Cocaine had never been my forte’ anyway.

“Go ahead and fire up.” I told her, fishing out an ashtray. “But if Daddy catches you stoned you did it in the bathroom and I knew nothing about it.”

“Oh you.” She said, slapping at me playfully. “You know I wouldn’t rat you out.”

She smoked out expertly, filling the aircraft with the smell of Humbolt County Skunk Bud, an odor I associated with my college days at Chico State University in Northern California. I’d probably smoked a pound or two of that very impressive variety of cannabis as a young aeronautical engineering student there. The smell triggered pleasant nostalgia of a time when sex and d**gs seemed to be the only things that really mattered.

Somewhere over northern Oregon she asked me, “How bad do you think Daddy’s going to flip out over this?”

She pulled her sweater upward to just below her breasts, revealing her smooth, tanned and unlined stomach. I saw that a silver stud was inserted in her navel. I couldn’t help but be slightly aroused by the sight. “You got a belly-button ring?” I asked. “When did you do that?” “A couple months ago.” She answered, smiling. “Isn’t it bitchin’?”

“I suppose.” I said, uncomfortable with her revealing any part of her body towards me. “I’d break the news to him slowly though, if I was you. Your Dad’s kind of conservative about such things.”

“Oh,” She said, making no move to put her sweater down. “He’ll understand.” She smiled sexily. “But he might not understand this one.”

With that she pulled her sweater up to her neck, hooking her pink bra with her fingers as she did so. Her firm, jiggling breasts sprang free before my eyes, making my dick give a powerful lurch in my pants. That they were beautiful tits goes without saying. Paler than the surrounding skin they looked just made to have my hands on them, squeezing them. Her nipples were standing erect, inviting a pair of lips to suck them. The left nipple had a silver stud inserted into it too.

“Lisa! Jesus Christ! Put your shirt back down!” I barked, feeling suddenly very scared. Mr. Rancuri definitely would not approve of THIS.

“I just wanted to show it to you.” She said with feigned innocence. “What do you think?”

“It’s very nice.” I told her. “Now cover back up, now! Do you have any idea what your father would do to me if he knew what you were doing?”

“I told you.” She said, slowly recovering her chest. “I won’t rat you out. You worry too much.”

“With good reason.” I told her, feeling an actual sweat break out on my forehead from fear.

She behaved herself for the rest of the flight and gradually our conversation returned to normal. I landed the plane on schedule and, with my constant companion Seefor in tow, joined Lisa in the limo for the ride to Mr. Rancuri’s mansion. After greeting his daughter and doting over her for twenty minutes he took me into his office for an extended debriefing on my encounter with the FBI agents. I was worried that he would sense my discomfort regarding what his daughter had done but if he did, he probably figured I was upset over my encounter with the feds and made no comment on it. After less than an hour I was released and driven back to the airport where my own Mercedes awaited me.

I drove home, kissed my daughters goodnight, and then fucked my wife enthusiastically. But it was not her face before me as I strained towards orgasm.

Two days later I roared into the sky once again, heading southwest for Hawaii. Lisa sat in the co-pilot’s seat beside me while Seefor dozed contentedly on the floor between the two chairs. Usually on her Hawaii trips, Mrs. Rancuri would accompany Lisa at the very least. But she was currently seeing to some matters in South Lake Tahoe (I’d flown her there the week before and was scheduled to fly her back the day before Christmas and to fly her to join her daughter two days after Christmas). It seemed that my boss was learning to trust his daughter a little more in that this was the first time she’d been allowed any time at all at the vacation home by herself. We weren’t in the air more than ten minutes before she was stuffing a custom-made, marble pipe with marijuana and sparking up.

I was at 41,000 feet in the standard air corridor between Sea-Tac and Honolulu, cruising on autopilot. Lisa was even higher. Her pretty brown eyes were half-lidded and bloodshot as she sipped a bottle of Steinlager out of the well-stocked refrigerator. She was wearing a red mini-skirt that had crept up upon her legs much more than I was comfortable with in light of our previous trip. Her legs, bare of nylons, were nothing short of magnificent and she seemed to delight in giving me the occasional quick, teasing glance between them as she moved this way and that in the co-pilot’s seat, offering me fleeting glimpses of her sparkling white panties. I did my best to ignore her, concentrating on my instruments and the flat, blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean far below.

“You ever fuck in this thing?” She finally asked me, taking another hit off of her pipe.

“What?”

“You know? The mile-high club. You’ve been in here alone with your wife, haven’t you? Didn’t you tear one off?”

“I’ve always had my k**s in here too.” I told her, exasperated. “And I’m supposed to be flying, not boffing.”

She grinned, relishing the shocked expression she’d given me. “Oh come on. The autopilot flies the plane for you. And k**s go to sleep don’t they? Are you seriously telling me that you and the wife never slammed up here?”

“No.” I said firmly. “We never did.”

“Not even a blow-job?”

“Lisa.” I barked. “Please.”

“Doesn’t air travel make you horny?” She asked next, sipping out of her beer. “It does me. Flying eight miles above the ground in defiance of gravity. Wow. It makes me want to stuff something in my cunt.” She looked at me meaningfully. “Do YOU have anything I can stuff in my cunt?”

“NO!” I nearly shouted. “I do NOT!”

She shrugged, smiling. “Suit yourself.” She said.

She twisted in her chair so that she was facing me. Her legs came apart, allowing me to look straight up her skirt to her panties. They were wet, I could see, sucking lightly into her vagina.

“Lisa!” I told her, turning my head away quickly. “You need to stop this!”

She giggled. With my peripheral vision I saw her pull her panties off and toss them atop Seefor’s head. The damn dog was so lazy he didn’t even move to remove them.

“Lisa!” I repeated, keeping my eyes firmly out the side window so I wouldn’t have to watch. My dick however, didn’t care who was doing this. It began to stiffen in my pants.

“Now come on.” She said lightly. I heard her rummaging in her purse. “You’re an employee and I’m a customer and the customer is always right. If you won’t give me something to stuff in my wet cunt, I’ll just have to provide it myself.”

With that I heard a buzzing noise. Against my will my head turned, as if guided by an outside force. She had a slim, silver vibrator in her hands and was slowly rubbing it up and down in her crotch. Her fat, swollen pussy lips were forced open to either side of the cylinder. The faint odor of fresh, teenaged pussy reached my nose. My dick was now a ramrod. She stared into my eyes, smiling as she rubbed it up and down. Finally she put the head between her lips and slowly slid it in.

“Ahhhhh.” She sighed, beginning to move it in and out. Its polished surface glistened with her juices. Her odor filled my nose, making me slightly crazy.

“Lisa, please?” I pleaded, unable to tear my eyes away from her cunt. In the back of my mind was a rumor I’d heard around the mansion about how a man had once made a pass at Mr. Rancuri’s wife at a formal party. Later that night, the story went, the man in question had been brought to a back room of the mansion where his penis had been removed with a set of hedge clippers and stuffed down his throat, asphyxiating him. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, no sight had ever aroused me as much as Lisa ramming that dildo in and out of her dripping pussy.

“Please what?” She asked sweetly, varying her rhythm a little. “Do you like what you see? You want to eat it, don’t you?”

“Yes… No!” I stammered, fighting with my willpower.

“You can.” She whispered. “You can eat me out until I come in your face. You can stick your fingers up my ass while you do it. Or I can suck your dick until you come in my mouth. Or I can sit on your cock and ride you while you fly us. You want to, don’t you?”

I managed nothing more than a moan. I was trembling all over with fear and desire.

“Don’t worry.” She said, pulling the vibrator out of her pussy. “Nobody will ever know. I’ll never tell your wife. I’ll never tell Daddy. I’ll never tell my friends at school. Whatever we do in this airplane stays in this airplane. I promise.”

She extended her hand to my face, holding the dildo under my nose. I could see that it was moist with her juices. I could smell her secretions upon it. She put the head of it between my lips, rubbing it back and forth, transferring the tart taste of her to my tongue. I believe that I lost my mind at that point.

“You like the way I taste?” She smiled.

I couldn’t help but nod my head.

She opened her legs wider, spreading herself with her fingers and tossing the vibrator aside. “Come and get it from the source then.” She told me.

I was still telling myself that I couldn’t do this, that it was wrong, that it was infidelity, that it was, most of all, dangerous. But my body wasn’t listening to any of this. Seemingly independent of my brain, I found myself sliding out of my seat, abandoning my pilot’s duties for the first time in my life, pushing the damn dog out of the way, and kneeling between her spread legs. Her pussy was now staring me right in the face. A finer pussy I’ve never had the privilege of gazing upon. Her odor was making me giddy.

I leaned forward, taking her sexy legs and putting them on my shoulders, and planted my face on her cunt. Once that step was taken, all was lost. I rammed my tongue in her, making her squeal in delight. I began lapping at her swollen lips, taking each one in my mouth and sucking on it. With my fingers, I pushed aside her thick mat of black hair to make my access easier.

“Oooh yes.” Encouraged, panting now. “Eat it. Make me come.”

I gave her my best, feeling as if I’d just sold my soul. I lapped and sucked her beautiful slit like a starving man encountering food for the first time. She wrapped her legs around my back and humped her crotch into my face while I copulated her, running her fingers through my hair. Her pussy tasted heavenly, so much different than my wife’s, who’s pussy was the only other I’d eaten in the past six years, but it was tainted with the enticing flavor of forbidden fruit.

While I ate her she lifted her hips for a moment to free her skirt which she then pulled over her head and tossed on the floor. Her bra joined it a moment later, leaving her naked as the day she was born. She grabbed my hands and placed them on her tits. They were firm as only young women can possess. I squeezed and stroked them while I ministered to her clit, feeling the odd sensation of her nipple ring against my right palm.

“Stick a finger up my ass.” She told me. “I LIKE that.”

I did as she asked, sliding into a suspiciously loose asshole. At her command I began to thrust my finger in and out, feeling her muscles grip me.

“Yess, yess, yess!” She chanted as I sucked harder on her clit. Finally she began to come. She screamed loudly through her orgasm, making me glad that the voice recorder had been removed as a business related insurance policy (the FAA certainly would NOT have dug that). Juices poured out of her, something I’d been told was a myth.

Finally her thrusting came to an end. She stuck her hands into my armpits and pulled me upwards, until I was standing before her (but with my head bent over due to the low ceiling). She reached out and unfastened my belt before popping the snap on my pants and jerking my zipper down. My pants dropped to the floor, leaving only my BVDs between her hungry face and my cock. She took care of this last barrier in a second, grabbing my waistband and yanking the underwear down.

“Nice.” She sighed, gazing at my dick, although my cock, as far as I know, is only average in size, about six inches or so. She leaned forward and sucked the entire length into her mouth with a slurp. Her hands squeezed my ass cheeks while she expertly blew me. I instantly knew that mine was not the first cock she’d sucked upon. While she gave me head my hands dropped down to her wonderful tits, caressing them.

After a moment or two of cocksucking she pulled her mouth away. “Sit down in your chair.” She told me. “I wanna fuck you.”

“Okay.” I answered, breathless, backing up a step and planting my ass sideways in the pilot’s chair. Automatically, despite all that was going on, my eyes scanned the instruments and glanced outside to make sure everything was still copacetic. It was.

She stood and walked over to me, straddling my lap. She grabbed my wet, rigid cock with one hand and started to ease down upon me.

A thought managed to make it through the haze of lust that I was trapped in. “Lisa.” I asked. “Is this safe? I mean… ”

“You mean will you get me pregnant?” She offered, rubbing my head through her lips now, making me forget the possible consequences of this even as we discussed them. “No.” She told me. “I’ve been on the pill for a year now. It’s safe.”

“Okay.” I squeaked as she sat down upon my dick, sliding it into her wet, tight cunt.

When I say tight, I mean TIGHT. A tighter pussy I’ve never encountered, not even when I was a teenager and fucked Karen Morgan, a virgin, in the back seat of my Dad’s Chrysler. Lisa must do some serious keagle exercises on a regular basis. She raised and lowered herself upon me, squeezing me with her muscles with each thrust. I sucked contentedly upon her bouncing tits as she did this. She is without a doubt the best fuck I’ve ever had. Even my wife, who loved to fuck and knew every little thing that generated pleasure in my body, couldn’t compare. I grasped her waist and thrust back at her, eventually working up to the point where I was nearly slamming her head into the ceiling with each up-thrust.

She screamed her way through another orgasm and then picked up the pace, drawing the come out of my balls like a vacuum cleaner. I shot a huge load up inside of her clenching pussy while she screamed out profane encouragement.

Afterword, she simply stood up from my lap, dribbling a few drops of our combined juices on the floor, and picked up her clothes. She gave me a smile and announced that she was going to go utilize the shower in the back of the plane.

While she was gone I went through perhaps the worst period of worrying that I’ve ever experienced. Post-orgasm really changes the way you feel about certain things. I’d fucked my boss’ daughter, the apple of his eye. If he found out about this, I would not just be killed, but be killed in some extremely nasty and painful way that would involve my genitals. What had I done? What kind of perverted asshole was I, taking advantage of a nineteen-year-old girl (the fact that the nineteen-year-old girl had been the one to take advantage of ME didn’t enter into my thoughts)? I felt like shit.

Lisa came back a few minutes later, her hair wet from the shower, her body clad in shorts and a Stanford T-shirt. She smiled as she sat down in the co-pilot’s chair once again.

“I know you’re worried about what we did.” She told me, extricating her pipe and baggie of marijuana.

“You ain’t shittin’.” I assured her.

“You don’t have to Mike.” She told me, putting a pinch in her pipe. “We just shared a bitchin’ experience together. Wasn’t it the greatest fuckin’ sex you’ve ever had?”

“Yeah.” I had to concede. “It was.”

“Me too.” She told me. “You’re a great fuck. Your wife oughtta be proud to have you. But anyway, I know what the stakes are as far as Daddy finding out. I’ve grown up in this family and I KNOW what Daddy would do if he knew what you and I did.” She gazed meaningfully at me. “It won’t happen. Don’t worry. Like I said earlier, what we did in this plane stays in this plane. I swear before God and the Virgin Mary and my mother’s name. I’ll testify before the throne of God Himself that you were a perfect gentlemen on our flight. Daddy or anyone else will never know what happened here.”

“I’d appreciate that.” I told her gratefully.

“Good.” She smiled. “But if we ever fly together alone again, I expect similar treatment.”

“You got it.” I promised.

And there are several stories I could tell about THAT