Dream of Flight


All Characters are well over 18.

She’s home. I can hear the garage door opener pulling the door up. She had spent the evening with her girlfriends having a girl’s night out. Now she is home. I’m glad. I don’t really want to wake up and meet her at the door as I’m laying in bed, floating in that luxurious space between not really being awake and not really being asleep, drifted off to another world. Not that I don’t want to greet her, I just don’t want to leave my dream world.

In my dream world, I’ve been flying all night in an antique airplane making stops to visit exotic places all over the world. Now, I have the landing gear down and I’m coming in to land. I have performed the pre-landing checklists, set the throttles on the big twin engines and the airplane is set to land. I listen as the old plane slices through the air, making a whistling noise that defines part of its character. It sounds like it’s talking to me. Guiding me. Whispering to me.

She is in the room now. I hear her undress. Yalova Escort I know she is there, but I’m still landing my plane. She slips into bed. I feel the cool air as she lifts the covers. My naked skin tingles in the breeze from the fan.

I line up on the runway, making a small correction for a crosswind. The long nose of the airplane is a visual guide when lining up on the centerline of the landing strip. Getting close to the ground now.

Hot breath. I can hear soft blowing noises as I feel myself starting to stir. Excitement. Arousal.

Just before the airplane touches the ground, I gently pull back on the yoke, flaring the nose upward. This increases drag and slows the airplane, making for a perfectly soft landing.

I feel her mouth on me, the hot wetness surrounding me. The texture of her tongue on me is like velvet. As she draws me in, I am fully engorged. Hard. Wanting.

The wheels of the antique touch the ground and the tires make a “chirp” as they skid Yalova Escort Bayan just a bit before starting to turn under the weight of the big old plane. Throttles at idle and I use my feet on the rudder pedals to guide that long nose straight down the runway, loosing speed.

She has me all the way in her mouth, now. Pulling. Sucking. Rhythmically going up and down, matching the bounce of my plane as it rolls along the old grass runway.

The plane is down now. As I approach the taxiway leading back to the hangar, I turn off of the runway and apply just a little bit of throttle to keep it moving through the grass. I can see the outline of the hangar against the night sky. It rises out of the ground like the head of a great creature. Beautiful. Majestic.

She speeds her pace. I can feel something familiar building inside of me. I can’t say just what, but it feels wonderful. I want to just stay right here forever. No worries. No cares. No problems. Just the most wonderful Escort Yalova feelings. All of them.

I taxi the plane to the hangar. It has been a wonderful flight. I have been places, seen sights, smelled smells and tasted flavors from a time long ago. And now, the overwhelming feeling of needing to park this plane for the night is about to consume me.

The pressure is building. She can tell. She has been here before and knows me. She reacts by squeezing and pulling me. Enticing me.

At the edge of the hangar is a small mound of dirt that keeps rain water from running in. As the wheels of the plane reach this small obstacle, I increase engine power to pull the plane over the hump. The machine climbs up and over, and straight into the hangar in one smooth motion.

I loose myself into her. She has taken me, without waking me. I feel the wet softness as she consumes what’s left of my excitement. I’m drifting off….

As the big plane crosses the threshold of the hangar door I pull the power from the engines and apply the brakes, bringing it to a stop. All of the excitement and joy and wonder of the flight comes together in this very special moment. The flight is over. Safe in the hangar, the plane rests. The doors close and the night grows dark and quiet.

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