Leaving on a Jetplane - Cover

Leaving on a Jetplane

Copyright© 2024 by The Horse With No Name

Chapter 23: Standing Out

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 23: Standing Out - Ian, the son of British immigrants, finds his life changed after a family tragedy and decides to make the best of his ambitions and dreams. And nothing gets you to new adventures as fast as your own airplane...

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Workplace   Sharing   Polygamy/Polyamory   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Massage   Oral Sex   Nudism  

Esther deemed it appropriate to jump my bones another two times before we made ourselves decent and went for another flying lesson. At the rate Esther had been learning since that memorable first lesson in June, I gathered she would probably be ready for her first solo flight by late September or early October.

As always, the time I could spend with her was way too short, but the next batch of visitors was about to arrive in the evening and I was needed back home too. Our newest employee had arrived and we needed to organize check rides for Friedl so he could renew his altiport permits.

Somewhat heavy-hearted I made my way back home. I had a team meeting come up the next day.


“Are you afraid?” Jack asked me during the team meeting. I had just told him that not I, but he would be the first to get the altiport permit at Courchevel, under the tutelage of Friedl.

“No, I’m getting it too, but for the PC-12,” I said. “I’m much more likely to fly there in that than the Dash-7. We don’t train a whole squad of pilots to fly the type, only for me to hog the flying hours on it. Occasionally I also have to take care of this here business.”

“Alright boss, sorry,” Jack back-paddled.

“Nothing to apologize for,” I told him. “It was a reasonable question. When Friedl shows you the approach for the first time tomorrow, you’ll realize that one could genuinely be afraid of flying into there. I certainly have the utmost respect for anyone who dares to do so.”

“Is it really that bad?” Fred asked our newest employee.

“I’ve done it hundreds of times,” Friedl said. “But I will never be not nervous when doing so. Ian is right, he wouldn’t be flying into there on the Dash very often, although I think he should get at least the type rating.”

“Is that a good idea?” I asked. “I would have to forfeit the type rating on the Jetstreams.”

“When was the last time you did one of the milk runs on those?” Fred asked. “Most of the flights you are doing are for Mark and his crew, and for good reasons. You know their various quirks best. The day will come when they need more than four seats and the Pilatus will be too small. That’s when you could use the all-business variation of the Dash-7.”

“Good point,” I agreed. “Why don’t we make it permanent then? Mark and his folks will remain loyal customers for some years to come. I’ll do those flights, mostly with Fred or Jack, depending on the type.”

Everyone agreed.

“Any big news while I’ve been in Hungary, Fred?”

“You should perhaps go there more often,” he said, making Sofia and Ira giggle. “Every time you go there we seem to get an offer we can’t possibly reject.”

He shoved a few printouts across the table. Everyone went silent while my eyes went wider with every paragraph I read.

“I have questions, Fred,” I said dryly when I was done.

“Fire away, boss.”

“Okay, the idea of becoming a feeder service for Air Berlin sounds good on first thought, but I still remember that feeder airlines back in the States are a cesspool of cutting corners to reduce costs. Is this economically viable?”

“The European market has much stronger customer protection rules,” Fred explained. “They can’t really try to outsource those flights to us for dumping prices. And that’s not why they are proposing it in the first place.”

“I found no explanation for the reasons in here,” I said and held up the papers.

“Air Berlin has a jet-only fleet,” Fred replied. “All of these routes would be flights on turboprops, but if they started to buy those, they would massively increase their maintenance overhead.”

“All big carriers do it like that,” Jack agreed with his brother. “British Airways have outsourced all their bird-whacker flights to SunAir of Scandinavia, KLM has Cityhopper and VLM, Lufthansa has offloaded the feeder flights to Cityline, Augsburg Air and Contactair.”

“Looking at the proposed routes, we would need at least ten if not more additional planes,” I noted. “Where to find those if we don’t want to steal them? Especially if we don’t want to add yet another new type, because that would balloon our costs.”

“Jack has used some of his old contacts in the States,” Fred explained. “Trans States Airlines are getting rid of their JS-41s in favour of brand new ATRs. They have twenty-five of ‘em. I bet they would gladly sell some of those to us instead of flogging them to some shady business in Africa. That’s where most of those seem to be heading these days.”

“That will blow a big honking hole in the budget,” I said, stroking my chin as I weighed our options.

“I’d go as far as saying you’ll probably have to donate a few dozen millions from your personal coffers,” Fred agreed. “But don’t underestimate the effect of becoming a player in the regional market. Airlines like LOT, CSA and Malev are woefully under-serving the regional market. So we would not necessarily fly for Air Berlin only.”

“Ira, would you come with me?” I asked her and stood to leave the room. She followed me out, looking somewhat confused. I went to my office and she followed me in.

“Ira, when Fred says ‘a few dozen millions’, he probably means more like half of my personal fortune, if not more. I can’t take such a risk without hearing your opinion on that.”

“Don’t be silly Ian,” she said. “Even if you completely lost that half of your fortune, you’d still have three-hundred million left. I don’t think we’re in danger of starving anytime soon. Fred and Bea have checked and re-checked the calculations at least five times while you were in Hungary. Fred wouldn’t propose that if he had any doubts that it is worth it.”

“Right, when you are okay with it, then we’ll do it,” I decided and we both went back to the conference room.

“Okay,” I said as I sat back down. “Fred, Jack, you’ve just voted to see very little of your families over the next few weeks. Get us twelve of those planes, some more pilots, and ferry them all to Dresden. Use the ferry flights to give as many of those new pilots a type rating. That will be quite a task to have most of those planes ready for the start of next year.”

“My ol’ lady won’t complain much,” Fred said with a chuckle. “Don’t forget that so many short flights mean you need two full crews per plane per day. We’ll probably need at least ten new flight attendants too.”

“Leave that to me,” Ira said with a grin. “We have plenty of applications.”

“Right. That means we need a new base or two,” I said.

“Nuremberg, Düsseldorf and Berlin, obviously,” Fred said. “That’s the three bases of Air Berlin and where most of these flights will be going to.”

“Berlin Tegel will be tricky, won’t it?” I asked. “They are short on space as it is.”

“I’ve already done the research,” Fred said. “Berlin will actually be the cheapest base. Tegel has lost quite a few long-haul flights, which means they have plenty of space now. Düsseldorf is actually the trickiest. They are really crowded, but Air Berlin is the major player there, and since we’ll fly for them, slots won’t be a problem.”

“Well done, Fred. I don’t think I need to involve myself too much,” I proclaimed. “You guys all know what you’re doing. I’ll be the monkey in a suit who signs the contract and the cheques.”

Everybody chuckled and stood to go, but Bea and Ira stayed behind.

“I’ve already talked to Ira,” Bea said when everyone was gone. “Could you find some time for Sofia? With all the flying you’ve done lately, she didn’t really get any time with you.”

“Shit,” I hissed. “I’ve really neglected her a bit, haven’t I?”

Not wanting to sugar coat it for me, Bea nodded. I thought for a moment and then I had an idea.

“Say, do you still have those East German camping trailers that Mark and his gang used to go on vacation to that nudist resort a few years back?”

Bea’s face lit up when she realized what I had in mind. “They took one of them with them to Senftenberg, but the second one is still in my backyard.”

“Right, I’ll write a PTO request for myself and Sofia, and approve it. I seem to be on vacation a lot lately.”

 
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