Chapter 18

Cindy’s turn:

I may put today down as my best doctor visit ever. I’m shaky, and it looks weird, but it’s MY leg, and it works again. Dan and I walked out after admonishments that I NOT overdo it, where ‘it’ could be anything.

“Take me to my Stearman,” I said. “I haven’t flown in months and I need it to be real...”

I noted the big ol’ sad puppy dog eyes he displayed for my benefit.

“That’s next, baby. We did it last night, and I promise...” I actually think we did pretty good keeping each other happy and sexually satisfied despite me not having both legs. I’m sure that tonight will be even better.

So, itinerary. Stearman. Office. The big black block on the calendar while I and my love try to figure out what we’ve been missing.

Missing? Very little. Early in the game we’d worked out a way where I could get my Dan inside me, cast or no cast. I’d clonked him on the head once when he was eating me, but after that he knew to watch out for the cast.

Neither of us ever felt needy nor neglected, but this evening’s reclaimed freedom is a bright light in my mind.

Freedom. Four thousand feet and ponderous rolls in the Stearman exercise my somewhat atrophied leg in good ways.

Landing was uneventful. I had Dan watching me, ready to catch things if I didn’t perform, just like when he first taught me to fly.

We push the big Stearman back into its hangar after topping off the fuel, and I grab his hand. It’s been years since the first time I surprised Dan by taking his hand. It still caused a pulse of electricity in me to touch him.

It’s only minutes before we’re in our own house.

“I’m surprised nobody’s called...”

“Black block on the calendar,” I said. “Everybody knows better...” I gave him a little shove. “Shower. For starters.”

Lovely to have a shower with no restrictions on my movement. The last couple of weeks I’ve been allowed to remove the ‘cast’ for hygiene but I’ve been very cautious about putting weight on that leg. Now, a fully mobile Cindy and a Dan who’s been partially neglected and we designed this bathroom with recreation in mind, which means that when we towel each other off, we’re both an orgasm into the process.

He scoops me up in his arms and deposits me in the middle of our bed and covers me with his body, pinning me, kissing me, and yeah, I’m fighting it sooo hard, right?

Hard. Pushing fifty and twenty minutes from his last orgasm and he’s hard again. My Dan’s a healthy man. We have a great exercise regimen, part of it involving...

“Ahhhh ... every time, baby,” I sigh. “I never get tired of the way you push me open...”

“My favorite thing, little one,” he says.

I like that I’m still ‘little one’ or dozens of other pet names.

“And I have a lot of favorite things with you...”

We kissed, our bodies totally engaged. I know this one – slow, loving. I know that we could continue on, right up to the two of us coming, our mouths welded together at the magic moment, but...

“I would love a totally unrestrained sixty-nine, lover.”

I get my wish. I’ve been getting my wish with Dan since a stormy summer night years ago. I feel his breath between my thighs, close my eyes to savor his mouth’s first contact, then shift enough thought power to regard the happy six inches of pink heaven there before me. A kiss. Then, two inches is comfortable for me and entirely adequate for the purpose of making this man happy.

Yes, we can make each other come this way. His tongue, as a matter of fact, has me...

“Ohgod, DAnnn!” I’m sighing, almost sobbing, through an orgasm, his dick held safely and tightly against my cheek until I regain more control over myself.

Which might be a while, because I only slide a small bit down from the peak and... “Gnnnggggg! Yesssss!”

This time he just continued his attention with little kisses for a bit, then his tongue ... Three! This time I rolled off him.

“That thing goes here,” I commanded.

Cindy gets her wish, and a very hard, pulsating, and ultimately sticky, wish, it is...

It’s his time to be immobilized, and he’s lying on his back, his dick soft, depleted, and there’s a sheen on it – us – and a big final drop of his semen globbed onto the head.

Cindy’s reward for being a very good girl.

He bucks when I collect my reward and his moan raises the question of exactly who might be rewarded by this action.

Now I can cuddle.

Dan 1.0’s turn:

Exactly how stupid would I have to be NOT to plan to take the afternoon off when Cindy was going for her last ‘leg’ visit. Quick X-ray, a few questions, a caution to not get crazy for a few more weeks, but... “Okay, Cindy, you’re good to go. You recovered well. The scars’ll fade with exposure to sunlight. Any questions?”

And we were out the door.

Cindy’s got a list of things. I know she’s missed flying and it’s early afternoon and the sky’s blue and...

“Stearman.”

Then, “Let’s go home.”

Five o’clock. I’m lying flat on my back, completely done in by the red-headed angel plastered on my right side. She stretched up to kiss me.

“Angel...” I sighed.

“My Dan.”

“Only forever.”

“Seven years. It’s supposed to get boring. We know each other inside and out, what each other is thinking...” her fingers traipsed down the line of hairs on my belly to ... one touched my dick. “We’re supposed to be bored with the same partner for sex and for conversation and everything else...”

“And you’re not?”

“Nope. Dan Richards, if you left me, I’d die. I’m seriously considering suttee at your funeral.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon.”

“Good. You’re my transport to heaven now. Just this afternoon.”

“I was there with you. You’re still the one.”

She curled up against me. Both of us satiated in every possible way, the gentle sleep of a short nap enveloped us.

I awoke to gentle pushes. “Get up, you!” she chided. “Dinner!”

This girl’s inside my soul. I’d’ve settled for a life in a second-hand mobile home if that’s what it took to keep her happy. Instead, I got a rock-star of an intellect, one whose propensity to generate income surpassed mine, who could love as fiercely as any man’s wildest fantasies, and if she wanted to wake me up to go get her a hamburger and chocolate malt, I’m good for it.

While we’re getting dressed, she looked over. “You’re thinking...”

“I am,” I admitted, “marveling over my good fortune.”

“ME?!?” Little girl voice, which she knows to drive me crazy.

“You.”

“You know, you still do it for me, sir...”

“Glad to know.”

“Just like those first days at the pool,” she said softly. “You in those stupid baggy swim trunks. Me an innocent little girl. I dunno why...” and she came up to me and cupped my crotch in her hand. A hot kiss.

Hamburger joint stays open late. I know what’s going on here. Years of living with Cindy have acquainted me with the fact that a day or two before her period she gets horny.

This time, it’s long, loving, slow. I remember the first time. So does she. “Not even thundering outside,” she giggled. She likes reliving the story as much as I do. “You do know that I was seducing you and didn’t even know that I was doing it.”

“I felt like I was being herded over a cliff,” I answered, rolling her onto her back, kissing her, losing myself in those green eyes just like I did the first time.

“That’s why I went with you that second day – to make sure you knew we couldn’t live without each other.”

“We can’t,” I reaffirmed. “Never. I hate nights when we’re apart.”

“I do, too,” she said. “I’ve stopped doing overnight flights – well, it’s not fair if I stop completely, but you know...”

“I know. And you’ve come with me that last few overnighters I’ve had to do,” I said.

Giggle. “Mainly because I’m your pilot.”

It’s always interesting to meet with a new client for the first time, me and Cindy. The question is inevitable.

One old engineer nodded in her direction. She was standing there, quiet, innocent, like a nuclear warhead hiding under a doily.

“Well, let’s do it backward,” I said. “She’s our corporate pilot, masters in electrical engineering, PhD in physics, head of R&D for 3Sigma Robotics and most importantly, my wife.”

The project in question was, for 3Sigma, more or less routine. They’re a rural electrical cooperative. Well, they were ‘rural’ when they got started, but little towns became medium-sized towns, and as more and more of life came to depend on not only electricity, but electricity that didn’t drop out every time the skies darkened, the capacity and the technology that was wonderful in 1960 wasn’t cutting it in 2020. We were looking at upping capacity at existing substations, including moves to modern equipment that would react faster and more accurately to system upsets, and we were looking at adding some substations, making new nodes in the system, increasing reliability and capacity, and we were looking at millions of dollars’ worth of work.

Cindy was sitting at the table, recording the conversation as well as adding notes, comments and questions. Yeah, she might be Little Miss Robotics but we cut her engineering teeth on the power grid.

“Now show us the OTHER presentation,” a senior manager said as the meeting wound down.

“Well, we didn’t want to waste valuable time.”

“Son,” he stated, “I been with this outfit since I graduated college. We got time. I keep hearing rumors about you folks.”

“Okay, Mister Dietz,” Cindy said. “Let’s do our history lesson.” Her computer took over the conference room’s big display. “Here’s me and Dan on our first project...”