Sheriff Porter - Cover

Sheriff Porter

Copyright© 2013 by carniegirl

Chapter 89

I went to the barge house after watching, and listening to an couple of hours of boring roach recordings, as I thought of them. I sat on my bed to explore the world of adult chat rooms. I decided that night to be a divorced woman of 40. It wasn't too big a stretch.

Knowing that Wilson listened made it even more erotic. I would say more fun, but when I sunk to chatroom eroticism, it was work not play. I would classify it as almost a medical necessity. I managed to find a nice enough lady, at least in my mind she was a lady, and that was all that mattered. We talked about imagined events until I orgasmed. Then I went to bed and slept very well indeed.

The next morning I tried something new. It was really a compromise for Wilson. I slept until 8AM. When I awoke I got right out of bed and put on the coverall outfit over my bikini panties. I got the adult big wheel from the shed and rode slowly off toward the country road that led to the airfield. It took me slightly over an hour of hard work to reach it.'

When I got there after nine the crew were putting siding on the frame which they had built. The leader of the crew spoke a little English, so I asked him, "Finish today?"

"Tomorrow, waiting on door." he replied.

"Okay," I said with a smile.

"I chained the big wheel to a tree near the lawn mower. I drove the lawn mower to the planes front wheel and attached it. I towed the plane to the same spot I had used the day before. I had it ready for take off in just a few minutes. Then I put the lawn mower back to the storage area I had covered with tarps.

When the tiny plane sprang into the air I was thrill as I had been every time I managed to get airborne. I spent the better part of two hours sailing up and down the coastline. I searched for things of interest. I stayed high enough, so that I could work a long glide into the flight. I was practicing for the day I lost the engine.

I mean, I didn't have an aircraft mechanic on site. What I had managed was a to get the name of a lawn mower mechanic, who would come to the field to work on the Honda engine according to EZ. Even so I had to get down if it died, so I practiced gliding to a dead stick landing. Since the plane was very STOL, I even had plans to land on a county road one day and take off again just to prove I could. It was probably crazy to do something like that, but I really wanted to know if I could survive a mechanical problem while in flight. Nobody ever said I was completely sane.

Of course that wasn't the morning to try it. I turned to home and landed the bird safely. It was a great flight, then I toughed out the ride back to the barge/house. That big wheel was going to kill me I decided. I loved it for rides around town but it was to much pedaling for the ride to the airfield. Sill the idea of some exercise before the flight and then a hour or so in the air before I began the day was appealing on some level.

Wilson would love it because I didn't get ready to open the office till almost noon. It needed some fine tuning for sure, but I liked the idea a lot. After the shower and dressing in my grunge look clothes, it was almost 1PM. I had to work out a schedule that put me in the office before noon, but it was doable. I liked the idea of doing things that required no one's help or approval. Yes, I also liked that my little toy had an element of risk involved.

I really also liked that it would take off and land anywhere. My main problem was with the designation ultra light. There were way too many restrictions. But I felt like we could circumvent most of them. I found after reading the specs on the plane that the fuel tank was too large. it was not allowed to carry more than 5 gallons of gas. I could probably get away with a small fine when they caught me. It could have no more than a fifty odd mile per hours top speed. The little yellow bird would do about 50% more than that.

I got my mind back onto Randy and Brian when Wilson and I sat down to monitor the tapes. I got Randy's apartment tapes. Randy thought he was a singer for some reason. He sang along with the radio, or whatever he was using to play the songs. I listened to him and fast forwarded a lot of the time. "Wilson I don't think this clown talks to anyone," I said.

"It is possible, but I doubt it. We would probably have better luck with a phone clone on him. At least we wouldn't have to listen to hours and hours of bullshit," he said.

"Then why didn't we do that?" I asked.

"Because he knows you and if he sees you he will probably insist on sex again," Wilson said.

"Then you clone him he probably won't ask you for sex," I said with a smile.

"Why do you keep insinuating that he might. You let a guy suck just one cock and he never hears the end of it," he said. "That was a joke by the way."

"I know, but you are awfully cute," I said with a leer. "See if you can find where he drinks most of the time. I can infiltrate you into the club before he gets there. You can clone his phone as you leave."

"Yes that will work," Wilson said. "So go back to listening. Lets get this guy's information. His truck moved last night but it looks like he went to the Railroad B&B for dinner and a drink, judging from the timing and length of his visit."

"So did he go straight home?" I asked.

"Straight as an arrow. He stayed in all night. So unless you can find something on those roach tapes, we wasted a afternoon." Wilson said.

"It's time for us to eat dinner and check his movements. When we put him somewhere, you can go clone his phone." I said.

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