Bill and Haley and Deena - Cover

Bill and Haley and Deena

Copyright© 2017 by oyster50

Chapter 16

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 16 - The ongoing story of Bill, a mature engineer, Haley, his sixteen year old wife, and Deena, who WAS his daughter in life, love and adventures.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Father   Daughter   Group Sex   Cream Pie   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Menstrual Play   Geeks  

Haley’s turn:

Today’s a flying lesson. I sort of feel bad, because Deena’s too young for her student license, but when I think about it, I remember that the nasty little thing got Cindy to let her fly ultralights while I was being Munchkined.

“Okay, Haley,” Rob Stinson said. “Let’s see how much you’ve forgotten.”

“I hope it’s not much,” I replied. “I’m ready to solo.”

He folded his arms after we strapped into the Cessna 172. “Show me.”

After our wheels left the runway, I asked him, “Practice area or stay in the pattern?”

“Pattern. Gimme a short-field landing.”

Piece of cake. Full flaps after we make our way around the pattern. I’m just about ready to put the wheels on the ground when he says “Goat on the runway! Go around!”

That’s a bit of a handful. Push the throttle in, then flick that handle down and crank a lot of trim because with power and full flaps this thing wants its nose where IT wants. Once we’re NOT landing, it’s a matter of bringing the flaps up and cranking OFF some of the trim and establishing a regular climb.

That’s when I exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

He saw that. Grinned. “Not bad. Not bad at all. Let’s go back around.”

Next time around - “Short field?”

“No, he said. “You made your point. Show me a slip to the centerline.”

He’s a good instructor. He explained how side-slips can serve well for cross-wind landings as well as a good way to bleed off altitude without using flaps. “Every airplane doesn’t HAVE flaps,” he explained.

I hadn’t noticed until I saw that old Stearman biplane. No flaps. Of course, I heard Mister Wally tell Cindy that it glided like a brick, so ... One of these days I’m gonna get my hands on THAT thing. Girl’s gotta have goals in life, and at the airport, I aspire to be Amelia Earhart. Flying’s fun. I can be all academic later, or totally into loving my family. Right now I’m over the runway’s threshold and I’m easing the yoke back and keeping reasonably close to the centerline. And ... ba-dump! Wheels are down.

We’re shooting touch and goes, so I’m supposed to roll a bit then feed the power back in and lift off for another circuit. I put my hand on the throttle.

Rob taps my throttle hand with his, stopping me. “Take me to the office. Today’s YOUR day.”

Famous pilots aren’t supposed to squeal.

He laughed. “I don’t get to solo people very much. I’m as excited as YOU are.”

I shook my head. “No way...”

We pulled up on the flight line next to the FBO office. He took my logbook, scribbled an endorsement for solo, then, “Three times around. Last one, you come back here. Now, you’re gonna be a hundred and eighty pounds lighter. You’ll lift off sooner, climb faster, glide better, and you’ll float a lot more, so be ready...”

“Yessir.”

“I haven’t lost a student yet. Don’t wreck my streak,” he said. And DON’T bend my airplane.”

And he got out of the plane, leaving me sitting there. Deena’s face is in the big window of the FBO office, grinning at me.

Okay, Haley. You got this. Every pilot has this day and lives through it and you know a LOT of pilots. So I press the ‘transmit’ button on the control yoke and, “Regional ground, this is Cessna three three two three hotel at Avex for taxi.”

“Roger, two three hotel, taxi to runway one five. Contact tower on one two zero point seven.”

“Two three hotel, roger, runway one five, tower on one two zero point seven.” And I let off the brakes and bumped the throttle.

Rob tells the truth. Cut a couple of hundred feet off the takeoff roll, gained a couple hundred feet per minute on climb and that thing glides and floats, like, forever. Three landings ... time passed sooo fast...

I taxied back to the FBO, adrenaline still pumping. When I shut the engine down, Rob and Deena were BOTH there waiting for me. I got out, getting ready to tie the plane down, but I got hugged and chastely, happily kissed by Deena.

“Shirt-tail,” Rob said. “It’s tradition.”

Okay, I knew that there was a chance that today was the day, so I had on old cotton shirt on. We went inside the office and he ceremoniously snipped a chunk of the tail off to pin on the wall.

“Normally I cut a new student loose for an hour after solo, but you have Deena here...”

I looked at Deena.

“Ain’t no way I’m getting in the way,” she said. “I can go back to my computer. Got classwork. Go fly,” batting the lashes of those big blue eyes.

“Thank you, Deena,” I said. “See you in a bit. And Rob?”

I hugged Rob before I almost RAN out the door to the waiting plane. Abbreviated walk-around, mainly to check the oil. And Haley’s got WINGS!!!

Out to the practice area. Explore this thing lightly loaded. Stalls. Slow flight. I can imagine Cindy’s voice telling me all the various parameters changing due to the weight reduction. It’s glorious.

Alas, it has to end. Back to the airport, talk to the tower, talk to ground control, then park the plane, attend to topping off the tanks, and go in, sign the ticket, collect Deena and head for home.

“Well?” Deena said.

“First time. Third-best first time in my life.”

“Third?”

“First, my first time with Bill. Second, my first time with YOU.”

“Hmmmphh! I guess I should be happy I made the list at all!”

“You’re just evil,” I laughed.

“I know. And a little bit jealous...”

“Uh, you ‘n’ Cindy and the ultralights...”

“Not the same. I’m proud, though...”

“Should be. So, you get finished with that social studies paper?”

“Yeah. Got Sandy’s notes. And Brindy’s. Added my own spin. I’ll get that one out of the way.”

“Kinda feel like I’m cheating when I use somebody else’s notes,” I said.

“I don’t. I read the stupid book. It’s American History since 1877. I get the grand sweep of things, and then it’s a matter of trying to figure out what this guy’s got under his bonnet for his exams.”

“True,” I said. “And I passed.”

“History. Pass. I’m interested, but it’s because I AM interested. Like the ‘prohibition’ thing.”

“Yeah,” Deena said. “Study the past. Learn from it. Prohibition didn’t work. And people still think that passing a law to make something illegal makes a problem go away...”

“Like texting and driving. You and I know...”

“You don’t do it. Dad doesn’t do it. Because it’s a bad idea, not because it’s illegal.”

“We were obeying the law because it makes sense.”

“No,” Deena said. “It made sense before it WAS a law...”

“Some things are just WRONG and you don’t do them because they are bad for you, your family and for society,” I said.

Deena tittered. “You just KNOW that we’re not the first ones to analyze this, huh?”

“No, that’s the trouble with deep thinking these days. All the good stuff’s been thought of.”

Deena sighed. “Just one more thing to be jealous of, you know...”

“What are YOU jealous of?”

“Music. I can’t do any. Neither can you. But – Sandy – piano...”

“She’s been doing it for YEARS, you know. And so has Johanna. The rest – it’s love of music.”

Deena laughed. “Maybe I can push Nikki aside for her triangle slot.”

“She’ll be easier to push when she’s holding a baby,” I laughed.

“Babies,” Deena sighed. “Everybody’s havin’ ‘em. Dad got fixed because Mom had those problems...”

“I knew that before I thought about marryin’ ‘im,” I said.

“I know. We talked. And both of us are entirely too young.”

“You got that right,” I blurted.

“But it doesn’t seem to stop any of our classmates.”

“Yeah, but I just can’t believe a middle school girl tells her boyfriend ‘let’s make a baby’.”

“No, it’s more like ‘I heard I can’t get pregnant if I’m on top’...”

“Or ‘I’ll pull out. I promise’...” Deena giggled.

“I can just see me tryin’ to get Bill to pull out, right at that moment...”

Giggle. “He’s just about paralyzed when he comes...”

“Some of my best cuddles ever, when I discovered that,” I said. “Now YOU add to ‘em.”

“Mm hmm,” she smiled. “Best way to go to sleep, ever...”

In the house. Kitchen. “Put on some rice. We’ll stir-fry. Got that little bit of steak. Veggies.”

And the neat thing is that once everything’s all chopped up, it’s on a tray in the fridge, so when Bill walks through the door, I can put the wok on the stove...

Throw-back. First time I saw somebody cook with a wok in real life, it was Bill. I was still twelve or thirteen and seeing that big ol’ round pan on a burner roaring full blast – I was impressed. I was MORE impressed when we tasted what he’d cooked.

“Show me how to do that, Mister Bill...” Yeah, it was still the ‘Mister Bill’ stage back then. He stopped being ‘Mister’ the first time we got naked together.

“It’s easy,” he said. “Simple technique. I’ll ‘wok’ you through it.”

Later, Deena confided he’d used the same joke on her.

So we have that little bit of steak sliced, marinating with some chopped ginger and onion in shoyu and we have bean sprouts and bamboo shoots and water chestnuts all laid out on that tray.

And it’s on to the books, except...

“According to an email, we’re getting a Cessna 152 on Friday morning.”

“Says who?”

“Dan 1.0,” Deena said. “He and Cindy and Mandy’re coming down with it.”

“How’re they getting back?”

“He’s following them in their 180.”

“Oh. Well, Friday’s good. Looks like good weather through Sunday. Saturday we’re going out on Carlita’s boat.”

“Another adventure,” she smiled. “I’ve been on boats – power boats, though. Carlita and Brindy say that their boat is a spiritual experience.”

“I’m sure it’s all kinds of experiences,” I snickered.

Deena got a smirk going. “All within the proper context of loving, sharing relationships, I’m sure.”

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