It should be a special day today. The flying weather forecast in GAFOR was completely Charlie, clear sky as far as the eye can see. In the charter calendar a passenger flight was registered for 1400 local time. Passenger Karin S. with the Yankee Zulu for a sightseeing flight, one hour long. Meeting point at the restaurant of the airfield.
I drive to the hangar, today in the great weather with open canopy, do the preflight check, fill up 40 liters of AVGAS 100 LL and then taxi the plane on the yellow line to the restaurant of the airfield. I hopefully should hit the mark for the parking position exactly with the nose wheel, considering the numerous interested spectators at the fence. A young woman with a rather inconspicuous piece of paper in her hand catches my eye immediately. That could be her, with the voucher for the flight. I switch off the engine, get out of the aircraft and walk straight towards her. "Karin, for the sightseeing flight?" I ask her directly and she nods happily. "Hello, I'm Pit, your pilot for your sightseeing flight today."
Wow, I think to myself, that's a lucky shot! Great figure, pretty deep sexy cleavage with an appreciated Cup C, blonde long hair and blue eyes. Apart from that nothing exaggerated, no color explosions in the face, no clumsy styled fingernails and also quite decent but still exciting lipstick. Actually one hundred percent fitting into my booty scheme. I immediately reject this thought; the woman wants to fly with me and nothing else.
"Shall we go to the plane?" I ask her and open the door to the apron at the fence. Somehow I have the feeling that she totally enjoys being allowed to enter the terrain that is normally reserved for pilots. When she arrives at the aircraft, I explain the function of the most important components of the aircraft to her during a walk around the aircraft and then help her get into the cockpit.
Unfortunately, putting on the harness belts did not work out at first go. The central lock just wouldn't lock. "Could you give me a hand with this," she asked, tilting her head slightly to my side with a smile. Now I had a problem. The buckles that extend the vertical straps were right on her breasts. Was I allowed to just reach there? No, that was not at all appropriate! My doubts suddenly disappeared: "You may touch my breasts, I don't mind, my gynecologist will do the same when he palpates them.
Well, that was already an announcement! Carefully I pushed one hand under the buckle, lifted it with the other and extended the strap a good bit. Inevitably I felt the soft feel of her luxuriant bust and the contours of her somewhat stiffened nipples. No, it's not really cold today, then it's probably more the excitement, perhaps also the excitement in anticipation of what was to come.
Crew ok, check completed, engine running, we can call the tower. "Bergfeld Info, Delta Echo X-ray Yankee Zulu", I call. "Delta Yankee Zulu, Bergfeld Info," the air traffic controller calls back. "Delta Yankee Zulu, a Highcraft 800 with two people, VFR local southbound, requesting departure information," I reply. "Delta Yankee Zulu, runway zero niner, QNH one zero one eight," it comes back. I confirm, release the brake, push in some throttle and we roll off towards the holding point of runway 09. The way there is a bit of a drag because we have to go to the west end of the airfield.
Pilots almost always wear sunglasses because it is usually quite bright up in the air, even when it is cloudy. This makes it difficult to see what the pilot is looking at. I shamelessly take advantage of this circumstance to take a close look at her breasts unnoticed. They are simply fantastically beautiful! What I would give to be allowed to caress or kiss them gently! To gently circle her areolas and nipples with my tongue, to touch them with my lips and to suck on them discreetly; that's what I'd love to do now.
The approaching markings of the holding point bring me back to reality. Set brake, engine to 2000 rpm, magnetic check for both rows of spark plugs. Everything ok, oil temperature fits in the meantime.
I report ready for takeoff and roll onto the centerline. "Wind zero eight zero with niner knots", the tower reports and gives takeoff clearance. In the corner of my eye I cannot help but notice that she is breathing quite deeply, which is evident from the rhythmic raising and lowering of her breasts. But now let's go! Throttle full in, briefly check the take off power on the rev counter, rotate the machine at speed 70, take off at 90, hold the machine flat until 120 and then start climbing. Retract the flaps to zero when reaching the safety altitude and continue climbing at speed 140.
After a short time, we have reached the altitude of the traffic pattern and turn into the right crosswind. Accelerate to 160 and reduce power. I sign off at the tower and we continue to climb flat to our altitude 2800 feet. Then reduce throttle to cruising performance, trim the elevator and level speed at 200.
The tension has disappeared from her face and has given way to a broad, beaming smile. "I never thought it would be so beautiful up here," she confesses to me and apparently unintentionally touches my right hand, which is currently lying idly on my thigh. At the moment we have reached a relaxed phase; the machine is exactly on course, altitude and speed fit and we have very calm air. No annoying turbulences, thermal bubbles or other stuff. The highcraft is lying in the air like a board. Many interesting things pass us by. We fly over cities, a castle, industrial plants and some smaller lakes. Slowly we approach today's destination, the Obersee. In the distance, the outlines of the lake can already be seen.
"Would you like to test how flying feels?" I ask her. "Are you serious about this now?" she replies and looks over at me almost a little afraid. "Sure," I say: "Just take the control stick lightly in your hand and feel how I move it when I control the machine. I immediately notice that she embraces the stick with enormous sensitivity and gently follows my movements. She has a real feeling for this. I wonder if she would take my stiff dick in her hand with the same feeling? Now there is actually no room for sexual fantasies, the pilot in Command should only concentrate on his core business, flying. In commercial flying, the pilot cannot do it with an attractive stewardess and in the meantime let the autopilot steer the aircraft.
I fly some smooth turns and show her how to climb and descend. "Now it's your turn," I say with a serious, determined expression and release the control stick. "Don't look at the instruments at all, but rely more on your feeling whether the flight view fits. Keep the horizon horizontal, I'm already looking at speed and altitude so that everything is safe. She is very concentrated, but doesn't seem stressed at all. Does this new experience excite her somehow? Her clearly protruding nipples seem to confirm my suspicion. If my fingers could now glide gently over her mons pubis towards her pussy, I would have certainty. And whether she is shaved? Hollywood cut or landing strip, I would unfortunately never know! In the end, it was supposed to turn out completely different, but I didn't know that at that time.
In the meantime we had reached the lake with its numerous islands and in the background the silhouette of the Alps was already clearly visible. I took over the stick again and flew with it all the sights of the islands. Normally I only fly very flat curves during passenger flights in order not to frighten the passengers. However, during a turn around the castle on Rose Island I had to put the plane a bit steeper into the curve and expected a rather anxious reaction. "Wow, that's awesome, you can see a lot more," was the surprising answer from Karin. I hadn't expected that at all, but it was good to know. Afterwards the flight maneuvers were a bit more sporty, after all we were flying in a "sports plane".
She enjoyed it more and more to feel the g-forces clearly in the fast steep turns. "Shall we fly a little parabola?", I suggested to her. "If you'd like to explain what it is, I'd be happy to," she replied and looked at me questioningly. "We'll be weightless for a few seconds, maybe you'll get sick," I said and, just in case, handed her the paper bag. "We'll see about that," she was indignant and gave me a rather reproachful look.
Throttle in, increase speed, pull up slightly and then push the elevator forward. Charming to observe how her breasts first lowered themselves significantly and then suddenly shot up as if weightless. She cheered with joy or should I say almost in ecstasy.
A glance at the clock and also at the pointer of the instrument for the tank contents signaled to me that it was time to start the return flight after all. In a wide bend we went on the opposite course straight back to the take-off airfield Bergfeld. From up here the landscape looked simply magnificent. In the sentence: "Only flying is more beautiful", there was more than just a little bit of truth.
Ten minutes before reaching the airfield I announced us via radio: "Bergfeld Info, Delta Echo X-Ray Yankee Zulu. "Delta Yankee Zulu, Bergfeld Info," the flight director returned. "Delta Yankee, Zulu, a Highcraft 800 with two people at 2800 feet, current position Holzhausen, for landing." " Delta Yankee Zulu, runway zero niner in operation, QNH one zero two zero. Next message right downwind." I descend the aircraft to 2300 feet and announce the entry into the traffic pattern. Take out some throttle, reduce speed, flaps to one and push the throttle again to keep speed 120. We descend further in the right base and soon we have the threshold of runway zero-niner in sight in the final approach. The tower reports wind from zero niner zero with a steady seven knots, which promises an unspectacular soft landing.
From the corners of my eyes I notice that she has her knees firmly closed and both hands buried deep between her thighs. Is this the tension before the landing or is she just touching her cunt in passing? Unfortunately, I can't look closer because my gaze constantly oscillates between the airspeed indicator and the runway during this somewhat critical phase of the flight. We are almost down, throttle completely out, initiate interception arc, let the machine float out and touch down gently. At the next exit we leave the runway and taxi to the hangar. After landing checklist, engine off, fuel tap closed, main switch off!
"Well, how was it?" I want to know from her. She takes a deep breath, her grandiose breasts lift and she hugs me wordlessly. "Pit, it was just megasuper! I never thought that flying could be so beautiful and exciting!" she confessed. And then the situation developed in a direction that I would never have thought possible in life. I would not have dared to take the first step. But Karin didn't just go one step further, she completely took the initiative. Gently she took my right hand and put it deep between her thighs. "Can you feel that?" she asked. Of course I felt the damp heat in her vulva through her jeans, how wet did it have to be right between her labia? My left hand gently guided her into her now unbuttoned blouse under her bra on her right breast. I felt the soft, warm fullness and the contours of her slightly aroused nipples.
"Pit, I absolutely must have you all to myself and want to spend the night with you tonight," she breathed into my ear. I thought I was in the wrong film and pinched my knee. No, it was no dream, this woman was completely real. She wants to sleep with me, I couldn't believe it at first sight. Gently I stroked dreamily and a bit irritated, but happy about her blonde hair, her cheeks, her neck and finally our lips touched each other for a passionate long deep kiss. "This evening at seven at my place, and bring plenty of hunger and a bottle of red wine," she said and pressed a small piece of paper with her address into my hand. Then she elegantly swung out of the cockpit and hurried to the parking lot where her car was parked.
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