by Nova Rain
“Yeah…” Jake responded in a deep voice. Bringing my mouth just an inch from his, I pushed his head back. I offered him one last smile, before rising back up. He sat up as I turned my back to him. I eased one strap down my arm, looking back at him. Maintaining eye contact with me, he rolled his pants down and off his legs. Repeating my move with the other strap, I let my top fall to the floor. I wiggled my hips first and then bent down, my calves brushing against the fabric of the couch. I moved my feet apart, willing to get a good view of him. Jake was staring at my ass, his fingers going up and down the length of his shaft.
That’s it. Jerk yourself off over me.
I turned to face the chair, flicking my gaze away from him. I set my foot on the soft surface of the cushion, focusing on my stocking. I pushed it down my leg, before stopping at the knee. Arching my back, I continued to shake my hips with attitude. I let the tip of my tongue slide along the seam of my lips, shifting my attention back to him. My mountain of a man was naked, the flame casting its shadow across his stomach. Holding his cock in a tight grip, he was stroking himself, shorts gasps of air fleeing his mouth. I rolled the stocking down and off my leg, moisture soaking the fabric of my panties. His undivided attention was turning me on. It crossed my mind to jump over and sit on his big, stiff manhood, but I dispatched that thought. My teasing session wasn’t over yet. I was enjoying torturing him too much to give up now. I repeated the stocking trick on the other side and pushed the chair away.
Turning to him, I slipped my index fingers into the waistband of my panties. I smirked, pulling down the right side, causing Jake to speed up.
“You’re killing me,” he grunted, his hand going all the way down to the base of his shaft before moving back up again. I fingered the waistband and slowly slid down my thong. Letting it fall to the floor, I bent down and picked it up. I tossed it onto his lap, and then moved around the coffee table.
“Fuck, it smells so good,” Jake whispered, biting into the fabric as the song faded out. Just when I was about to sit on his lap, he placed his hands on my hips. A tremendous amount of force spun me around and threw me against the couch. I didn’t know what hit me, until I felt a fuzzy sensation on my back. He rolled over and set his knees on the floor, the candlelight illuminating his massive back.
“That is so unfair,” I complained with a whimper. “I wasn’t done yet.”
“You’re done now,” His authoritative tone didn’t leave much room for argument. “I’m going to punish you, you dirty girl.”
“How?” I asked, the moment he spread my legs. His response was a cunning smile. Climbing back up onto the couch, he planted a kiss between my breasts. His hot lips locked with mine as I felt his muscled torso on me. He raised my legs in the air, before squeezing my outer thighs. Just after that, another sensation sent my desire off the charts. His dripping wet cock pressed along my slit, his heavy balls resting on my ass cheeks.
“Oh, my God!” I moaned, thrusting my arms up. I grabbed his triceps and squeezed with vigor. Jake rolled his hips, planting me into the cushion. “I should strip for you more often.”
“That would be fucking amazing.” he groaned in my mouth, before our tongues crashed into one another. I cupped his skin with such greed that I thought he would end our kiss and complain. My hands moved up his arms, grabbed his shoulder muscles and went back down, only to squeeze his forearms and return to his triceps. Jake had no issue at all, though. The demand in his kiss and his continuous grunts indicated the exact opposite. I lowered my legs, the feel of his rock-hard cock rubbing against my clit sending more waves of arousal coursing through my system. My feet on his butt, I pressed my toes into his flesh.
“Fuck me,” I moaned, sliding my hands over his shoulders. “I can’t take it anymore. Fuck me.”
Jake arched his back, letting go of my leg. He reached down and guided his throbbing cock to my entrance, breathing hard on my neck. Then, he leaned back, the head of his cock parting my inner walls. A lustful moan flew out of my lips at the sensation of his delicious hardness inside of me. Little by little, his manhood slipped inside, Jake straightening my legs up. He put them over his shoulders and groaned with pleasure, my wetness surrounding his every inch.
“I’ve never been more turned on in my whole life,” he groaned, wrapping his hands around my thighs. “You’re driving me crazy, you sexy little thing.”
A number of comebacks ran through my mind. I meant to tell him to show me how crazy I was driving him, demand him to take me hard, and even praise his incredible body. But I couldn’t bring myself to speak. All I could do was let out a long, passionate moan, my mouth wide open as I did. I squeezed my eyes shut, my body rocking back and forth while I collected the reward for my striptease. And my God, was it plentiful… Stiff inches were quenching my desire, going all the way in and almost all the way out. With every withdrawal, just a tiny bit of the head remained in my drenched pussy, before my lover filled me up again. And again. His hands were stroking my thighs, caressing my flesh as they traveled up to my knees, and squeezing it every time they went down to my hips. I gripped my breasts, the sound of his body smashing into mine just a tad weaker than our moans. I pinched my nipples at the same time, the waves of my orgasm rolling through me.
My eyes snapped open, the sounds of my delight overshadowing Jake’s. The sight of his gorgeous face between my calves acted like a powerful gust of wind during a wildfire. In a matter of seconds, my whole body was quaking once more. My second orgasm hit me with impeccable force, turning my moans into wild screams of lust and delight. His thrusts were sending ripples up and down my thighs, his pecs and abs flexing faster. A deep grunt heralded the arrival of his own climax. Leaning forward, he plowed into me, warm, sticky juices coating my insides.
I released my breasts and curled my arms around him, a purr of absolute satisfaction escaping me. I held him near and kissed him on the cheek, both of our chests heaving.
“Next time, I might give you a lap dance,” I teased with a grin.
“Fine by me,” he shrugged, pecking a swift kiss on my lips. “FYI, it’s a lot easier than the sexy show you pulled off tonight.”
“Why? What’s the difference between a striptease and lap dance?” I asked, my eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“A striptease is an actual dance. A lap dance isn’t,” he declared, sitting down next to me. “At some point, the woman sits on the man’s lap and sort of…” he paused, “rides him.”
“And how do you know about that?” I pitched my voice higher in mock ignorance.
“I’m thirty-one years old, honey. I’ve been to a lot of strip clubs,” Jake provided the explanation I expected. “Any man who says he doesn’t like those places is either a liar or gay.”
“I know,” I replied in a mellow tone, resting my head on his shoulder. “Hey…” I whispered, remembering our argument as I looked up at him. “Did I really say it was okay for you to have a threesome?”
“Yep,” he affirmed. “That’s how distracted you were. By the way, it was an NTSB agent on the phone. He said he’s coming to New York tomorrow to talk to me. NTSB stands for…”
“National Transportation Safety Board,” I said, finishing his sentence. “They sure don’t waste any time, do they?”
“The NTSB is the most thorough and professional agency in the country,” Jake voiced his opinion about them, interlocking his fingers with mine. “They’re also one of the most underrated, if not the most underrated. Usually, it takes them months or even years to publish their report on an accident. Let’s hope they don’t take that long in my case.”
“I don’t think they will,” I uttered, my voice low. “I mean, your case isn’t even an accident. The plane was in one piece when you ditched it on that levee.”
“That’s true,” he agreed. “Still, they have their work cut out for them. There’s always pressure on investigators to determine what caused an airplane to go down. I can’t imagine why this would be any different.”
“Until they do, Captain Laid Back will have dazzled thousands more with his piloting skills,” I purred, stroking his lower stomach.
Jake gave a chuckle and his eyes glinted in amusement. “Captain Laid Back? Is that my new nickname?”
“Yep,” I replied, laying a tender kiss on the side of his neck. “Take me to bed, you big stud. I can’t wait for you to drive me wild again.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Jake smiled, circling his left arm around my back. He placed his right hand under my knees and arose to his imposing stature as I gazed into his gentle eyes. I was longing for some more of that sensual drug. I yearned for more of those moves that had me wondering if the whole room was spinning. This untold pleasure had his name written all over it. I’d be crazy to not want more of that.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jake
“Thanks for our best night together,
XOXO
Penny”
The lipstick message on my bedroom mirror was the perfect start to my day. My girl had taken off for work, but she hadn’t forgotten to show me her appreciation. However, my contentment was short-lived. I was going to meet with Gary Feith, the NTSB agent that called me the night before. And I would have to relive every moment of that horrific descent, because he would want to know everything that happened. One could argue that, since the disaster had been avoided, I should be okay with narrating the events that forced me to land on that levee. No one was killed. One passenger had just suffered minor injury. Nonetheless, it was hands down the most intense experience of my career. Discussing it with a complete stranger so soon afterwards was not how I wanted to spend that morning. I wanted to jump into a plane and follow my everyday routine. Indiana. Las Vegas. New Orleans. Miami. Yet, that meeting with Feith was crucial to the investigation. I couldn’t avoid it; I should not avoid it. If anything, it would be the first step to solving the puzzle of why the triple seven almost led so many people to their deaths.
Our rendezvous point was the basement of United’s office in Newark, which was rather strange. I could understand why the NTSB would like to be so close to the airline. Being in the same building would allow them easier access to the officers and flight records alike. A basement wasn’t an ideal workspace, let alone for a prestigious agency like the NTSB.
As I found myself striding through its halls, though, the reason why they had chosen this location became perfectly clear. I couldn’t hear the usual noise of traffic. No honking. No engines revving or tires rolling down the road. In addition, the conditions that prevailed in the rest of the building just didn’t exist. There was no loud chatter. People weren’t running from office to office. There was just the sound of a phone ringing and someone typing, my footsteps and the footsteps of two men going in the opposite direction.
“Good job,” the one closest to me praised, passing me by. I kept my mouth shut and turned left and into the first office I came across. The sight that greeted me was unexpected to say the least. There were four computer monitors on the far wall, next to one another. Right above them, was a map of New Orleans, with an arrow titled “landing spot.” A few inches to the right, was an aerial shot of the levee with the triple seven on it. Feith himself, a graying, stocky man, was sitting at a desk in the middle of the room, his side to me.
“Good morning. You people are really fast,” I commented, strolling towards him.
“Captain Turner,” he said with a polite smile, getting up. “Welcome. It really is a pleasure to meet you. Have a seat”
“Likewise,” I tipped my head down in a polite gesture, exchanging a handshake with him. “How did you get all this equipment in here so quickly?”
“We brought in the computers last night,” he explained, the moment I sat down across from him. “The rest we received from my colleagues down in New Orleans.” He went on, reaching down into his briefcase. “I’ve got a few questions for you, but the first thing I have to say is... Great landing.”
“Thank you,” I muttered under my breath as he set a thick notebook down on the table.
“So, tell me, when did the engine trouble start?” He asked, his pen between his fingers.
“We were descending to fifteen-zero (15,000ft) when both of our engines flamed out at the same time,” I emphasized, recalling the hell the aircraft was flying through.
“Hmm…” Feith hummed, tapping his pen on the paper. “You said the same in that press conference. Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” I insisted with a nod. “The throttle was dead, as if we were parked on the runway with the engines off.”
“Captain, the Boeing 777 is powered by two GE90 engines,” he remarked, his jaw hardening. “They’re a marvel of modern day engineering. There are thousands and thousands of them out there, and they almost never fail. The odds of two engines coming apart at the same time are infinitesimal.”
“Do I have to repeat myself?” I rebutted, annoyed by his little speech.
“No. I heard you the first time,” Feith stated, lowering his gaze to his notebook. “What were the weather conditions at the time of the flameout?
“I haven’t flown through a storm that intense,” I began and sucked in a deep breath. “The winds were unbelievably fierce. There was so much hail and rain that we could hardly see out the windshield.”
“When did you get the temperature warning?” he inquired, continuing to take notes.
“The engines began to overheat right after we restarted them,” I responded, remembering the temperature on the gauges. “I had to shut them down. By that point, they were practically useless and even dangerous. They couldn’t provide any thrust. Their implosion would have guaranteed a crash.”
“I know,” Feith nodded, returning his attention to me. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“Yeah, I have two,” I told him, folding my arms across my chest. “I was surprised at the speed in which the first responders arrived at the scene. How did they know where we were? I’d also like to know about the investigation, if that’s okay with you.”
“Another aircraft relayed the news to the control tower,” he spoke in a more relaxed tone. “The investigation is still in its early stages, but I can tell you a thing or two. Believe it or not, you landed on NASA property. It’s called ‘Michoud Assembly Facility.’ They manufacture space shuttle parts down there. You’ve also caused us and United a big headache. Your airline can’t put the aircraft back into service, until we can examine the engines. We can do that out there, but the plane is sinking. My colleagues on the scene don’t think we have more than forty-eight hours.”
“Then you’d better work fast,” I advised. “Will that be all?”
“Yes,” Feith said, rising from his seat. “Thank you for your time, Captain.”
I shook his hand again and walked out, glad that this interview was over. It meant that the NTSB didn’t need me anymore. I could return to active duty. I could go back to cruising across the skies, taking people where they liked. At least, that’s what I thought. It all depended on my superiors. It was up to them to reinstate me, or leave me sitting around in New York, doing nothing. Knowing how they did things, I believed that they would call me very soon indeed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Penny
“That’s not something you see every day.”
I couldn’t agree more with Ava’s comment. The image of a huge, white-and-gray plane resting on the dirt was still boggling people’s minds. Almost two days later, it continued to dominate news, getting plenty of airtime.
“I know I’m going to sound like a broken record, but I’d like to meet the guy who did that,” Ava added while we watched a report on my computer.
“Let’s hope you get to do that tomorrow,” I suggested, crossing my fingers. “My mother is in Vegas with her new boyfriend. I doubt she’ll come back here for Thanksgiving.”
“My folks are in Paris,” she informed me, pursing her lips. “They won’t be back until December 5th. They haven’t called me i
n four days. I guess they’re having a little too much fun to worry about their daughter. Why did you say ‘hope’? Won’t Jake be here for Thanksgiving?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I want him to be, but he’s just dying to get back to work. And United is probably dying to send him back out, too.”
“I bet,” my friend smiled. “He’s the goose that lays the golden eggs. They must have made millions off him in November alone.”
“He’s going to make ten thousand,” I announced, disappointment sending my voice down an octave. “Can you believe that? The man who saved all those people from certain death, is only going to make ten grand.”
“How? Are they giving him a raise?” Ava squinted, taking her eyes off the screen to look at me.
“Nope. Walter wants to do an advertisement with him,” I explained, spotting a news ticker at the bottom of the screen.
NTSB: Engine Turbines “Badly Charred”
I turned up the volume on the speakers, a wave of curiosity washing over me.
“NTSB officials were stunned to discover a great level of damage in the engines of the stricken Boeing 777.” A female voice spoke while the report continued showing pictures of experts standing in front of the huge engines, talking to each other. “However, before the search for more clues can continue, they have to solve a bigger problem. The triple seven is sinking. When asked about it, NTSB officials stated that they have three options. Fly it out, disassemble it or put it on a barge. None of those options are easy. At least one of the Boeing’s engines needs to be replaced. As for the pilot who can actually fly the aircraft out of the levee, we were told that the pilot most suited for the job is Captain Turner himself.”
“What?!” I squeaked, unable to believe my ears. “Why does Jake have to do this? Isn’t anyone else available?”
