Come Fly with me

A cool dry wind whispered across the sand. It was one of a rare, few Iraqi nights when it was neither unbearably hot, nor cold. The crisp, clear sky held so many stars that only a fool would dare attempt to count them. Nestled among them rode the new crescent moon, looking like the crown of a Goddess, the points of its curve extending to the heavens. This and more framed a lone grounded airplane of the former regime, angled helplessly into the moonlight. Her curves were as elegant as her purpose was lethal, an SU-27, the last bold hurrah of the Soviet Military Industry. Her strong rudders and sexy fuselage had been denied the slipstream by carefully placed holes in her cockpit and wing. She had been reduced to the status of War Trophy; positioned forever in mock takeoff, her tail almost dragging the ground, her nose forever pointing defiantly skyward. A nearby sign admonished, “Do Not Climb.” To the two lovers, its pull was irresistible. There could be no better place

He scented her body long before his eyes found her. The months of near total gender isolation had sharpened everyone’s sense of smell to the point that the perfumed Iraqi interpreters could be detected as far away as fifty feet. After they passed, it was still possible to enjoy scent of home for as long as a full minute. She was wearing his favorite, Vanilla Fields, against regulations. Both of them had snuck away to have this one moment together before they returned to their lives back in America. There had been plenty of talk and tension, friendship and discreet flirting, but still they had obeyed the rules. They had dared each other to be here under the starts tonight. Neither one had chickened out.

She jumped with a squeak as he slid his arm around her waist from behind, “Hello Love,” he whispered.

She relaxed against his body, reaching up to run her fingers through what little there was of his hair as he kissed her neck, stealing the first whimper of the need she had suppressed for so long. As agreed, she said nothing, but instead turned to meet his eyes and his lips. She melted into his kiss, devouring and exploring his mouth as though she feared she might never kiss again.

He responded like a man starving, set afire by her hungry mouth. One hand wound itself firmly into her hair; dragging her further still into their kiss as his other hand unbuttoned her blouse to discover that her t-shirt, like her brassiere and panties, had been conveniently left behind.

After so many months without, the silky-smooth feel of her breast in his calloused hand was almost more than his mind could wrap itself around. He drew a ragged breath as he took her swollen nipple between his finger and thumb; teasing it without mercy as he began to kiss his way down her neck.

Unable to so much as form a word, she gasped in heat as she stumbled backward to land seated between the rudders of the grounded warplane, taking her lover with her. She took his face into her hands, guiding him again to her breast to suckle at her with unmistakable hunger. Her back arched violently under his touch as her hand made its way into his pants to stroke his already pulsing manhood.

He responded in kind; unbuttoning his way to the warm, wet cleft of her flower. He consumed her mouth once more as he stroked her throbbing clit, stealing yet another helpless whimper from her as she shuddered under his touch. He silently congratulated himself at the pulsing clutch of her orgasm, until she seized his cock in one hand and the collar of his cammies in the other. “Fuck me, please,” she begged, wildfire ablaze in her eyes. He needed no further prompting.

Seizing her once more by her hair, he turned her to face the angled deck of the plane; then he pushed her pants down, exposing her smooth, luscious ass as she bent deeper to receive him within her. He teased her needy slit with the swollen head of his cock before driving himself deep inside of her, tearing a moan of ecstasy from her as he drove his manhood into her with ever-increasing ferocity; harder, faster, and deeper. Beyond any control, she shoved against the fuselage of the stranded eagle, driving her ass onto his plunging rod until the devouring clutch of her climax was more than he could withstand.

Grunting like and animal, he drove the full length of himself into her as he flooded her body with his hot seed. She sighed in unmistakable satisfaction from the spreading warmth filling her inside. She shuddered against him as he withdrew his waning erection from her body and kissed her smooth neck one last time.

“Thank you, Corporal,” she whispered playfully as she quickly restored her uniform.

“My pleasure, Ma’am,” he chuckled as he picked up his rifle.

They kissed once more, and then returned to their separate tents and their separate lives. As for the stranded eagle; she kept their secret, as she had for countless others.