The Pilots
Copyright© 2025 by Wolf
Chapter 33: Security
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 33: Security - A chance meeting between an older gentleman pilot and an accomplished younger woman pilot triggers a relationship that starts rough builds into long-term partners. They build a remarkable business and launch it into the public domain. Their loving connections with a larger group flavors their lives through romance, polyamory, sex, family and lesbian sex, and creative lovemaking.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Workplace Sharing Incest Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism
Kim, Debbie, and I took a walk around Kim’s North Carolina neighborhood after dinner. It was dark. A dark figure also walked about a hundred-feet in front of us and another behind us at the same distance. They were our bodyguards. I assume they were armed and could take out a small army with one hand tied behind their back.
We’d offered each of them some food and drink but they turned it down. “We’re all set, sir, miss, and ma’am,” was the reply.
David Mace was a six-foot-four tower of muscle and taut sinew ready to strike out at any threat that materialized. He’d been an MP in the Marines as his last tour. Before that he was pure combat or training part of an elite corps for combat. He was scary.
The other guard dog that night was Jimmy Chen. He was my height, but could break bricks with the side of his hand. His muscles also had muscles. He also told us that he could draw and fire six shots at a hundred-feet and have them clustered within a half-inch of each other – dead center in the body mass. When he smiled, we noted that some of his teeth were either gold or silver. He was extra scary.
Mace and Chen were the night shift, they informed us. Officially, there was one for each of us, but we made it easy by living together and working together. Mace bluntly said, “The day shift will pick-up from us at seven a.m. When you go off to Camp Forge or anywhere, really, we’d appreciate advance notice. There’ll either be a team that’ll pick you up at the airport up there, or one or two from here will go with you.”
I guess that settled that. I didn’t plan on starting too many arguments with the pair. We were supposed to keep them informed of our plans if we were leaving either work or the house.
I didn’t quite feel violated, more like on display for special examination. I did feel safer. There was news a few days earlier about some nut killing the CEO of some company because he didn’t get the service he felt he deserved. I think that got the attention of every business exec in the country.
We felt more under the microscope when the day shift arrived – a man and woman. They wanted to install some cameras in and around the house and property. They and their install team had twelve cameras ready to place. They’d have night vision, too. Those would be great for security and terrible for living a real life – especially one with a high-level of sex in it.
Kim firmly said, “Outside only. No arguments. Inside is off limits. If I find you violated that rule you’d better believe me that all hell will break loose, and you’ll be at the center of it.” They accepted that, but we compromised and let them install six Panic Buttons on the two floors and garage of the house. They triggered a silent alarm, and the wrath of the security force would come into play on the threat.
Kim, Debbie, and I were often naked walking around the house, or even making love around the house. We’d have to curtail our excursions into the backyard on warm nights, but at least we wouldn’t be videoed when otherwise occupied inside.
The day shifty consisted of Kate Lane, a nice-looking muscular brunette who had also been an Army MP. Kate also taught Krav Maga in her spare time, and told us that she rated at expert in her weaponry. Kate’s partner was Seth Kilmer. He was more cordial and normal looking that the scary night shift. His qualifications mirrored Kate’s. Both were obviously armed.
The next morning, Kim wanted to take her little Porsche to work. I got a wink from her. Kim had taken an aggressive driving course two-years prior, and could get the most of that car compared to any but really professional drivers. Kate announced that she would be her passenger, especially since the car stood out from the crowd.
Debbie and I prepared to take the SUV work with Seth in the back seat. Our normal routine was also to stop and pick-up some coffee along the way.
We watched Kim and Kate peel out of the short driveway of Kim’s house. They were probably doing sixty by the time they got to the cross street and made a drifting turn at the end of the cul-de-sac onto the next road at closer to eighty. I also think that the engine was pulling about 6,000-rpm on the tachometer. We listened to squealing tires until the sound faded away.
Debbie and I followed. I was sure that Kim would set a speed record between house and work that day. Debbie ran in and got us coffees and we were back headed for the office. Once we got there, I could see the skid marks on the parking lot pavement where Kim must have made a drifting sideways turn right into her parking spot. There were only a few cars in that lot yet, so that must have been quite a show.
Inside, Kim gave me a wink and proudly said, “Hit the lights just right. Eight-minutes-and-twelve-seconds.” I always thought of that route as taking at least twenty minutes. I saw Kate sitting in a chair near Kim’s office. She looked pale and was kind of twitching. I think that was the idea.
I did my walk through the fabrication area that morning, stopping to chat here and there. The place was still making customized solar panels and shipping them all over the country east of the Rockies. We couldn’t keep up with demand and we’re adding staff and machinery as fast as we could find either. I could see a large shipment ready to go out, and was told it was for a new office building in Oklahoma.
I started the week with a scan of the news about alternative energy sources, meaning non-fossil based. I was particularly looking for news of companies or technologies that we didn’t know about. With the increased availability of artificial intelligence in some of the search engines, I was getting better slices through the media about my interests.
From there, I put in some effort on the M&As we’d lined up and were doing due diligence on. Debbie was working on one of those, a ‘Micro-Hydro-Power’ or MHP generation business that had started in Kennewick, Washington, making use of some of the mid-state feeders to the Columbia River. They were dealing in smaller scale generation, even at the household level from streams almost too small to notice. I spent the day studying that technology and company. I put them on the prospect list.
The weather warmed up during the week. I could see that in another couple of weeks we’d be able to use Kim’s outdoor pool and probably the outdoor pool at Acre Woods. That made me think that we’d also have to start wearing swimsuits instead of skinny-dipping as we’d done before the cold weather set in about half-a-year ago.
The three of us ate out that night along with Paul Tocket and his wife. The event was kind of a team building meal, but also so that we’d get to know each other better than we did.
Paul and Doreen were fascinated by Debbie and her flight lessons. She was just about ready to solo, meaning go off on her own in a small plane without an instructor. That brought up the fact that Kim and I were devoting an hour or two most evenings towards our jet rating and a type-rating in the Challenger 350.
Paul asked about the new Camp Forge home and how that place was coming along. We both told him about the emerging cooperative community that Kim was creating up there in the big house. I mentioned that my two daughters and their spouses were moving in very soon, so the place would also be a center for the Hume family.