Chapter 5: Return to the Green Mountains

For the next two weeks, I did not see the girls. It was not that I was avoiding them; it was merely that I just did not have the time. My training schedule had accelerated to the point where every free moment was spent learning, hands-on, the capabilities and limitations of this complex new generation of fighter/interceptor aircraft.

Chuck did mention that he had gotten a strange request from Jeanie; one pertaining to her desire to explore new sexual horizons, a request which he had graciously granted. Beyond that, he never pursued the subject.

The morning of my final day of training, I was picking up my flight gear at squadron ops when Chuck arrived. "What do we have on the agenda today?" I asked.

Chuck grinned and replied, "Today we are finally going to get to make some simulated combat runs on live targets. We got lucky and managed to schedule four B-26's to tow targets for us. You will not actually be carrying any live munitions of course, but you will be making radar-scored intercept runs on the towed reflectors, all the way in to the firing point. If that goes well, we may go up again after dark and you can try it again under conditions more closely simulating actual combat situations. Our birds have been equipped with 'scope' cameras to score the number of hits and misses. A pilot's score will determine, in large part, his ranking in the class. Don't worry about it though. I checked the class records last night and, unless you manage to screw up royally, you'll win the 'Top Dog Driver' award hands down."

As we took off and headed out over the empty prairie, Chuck said over the radio, "You take the lead and engage the 'enemy' as soon as they come within radar range. The area has been cleared of all other aircraft but I'll be on your wing, watching out for other traffic, just in case."

Monitoring my radarscope intently, I proceeded on course until I saw a large target suddenly blossom on my screen. Calling to Chuck, I said, "Got a target at ten o'clock ... rolling in on my run now."

Chuck double-clicked his mike in acknowledgement as I aligned myself with the target, and then kept the steering dot centered in the lock-on circle. Just as the steering circle my scope contracted, indicating I was approaching the firing point, I heard Chuck shout over the radio, "Abort! Abort! Break Left — Break Left!" Glancing up, I was shocked to see a DC-3 airliner cruising along, fat, dumb and happy ... and nearly filling my windscreen! I could actually see the pilot staring at me, his eyes wide with panic.

I broke hard left, hit burner and climbed to avoid him as Chuck laughed and said, "We almost ruined a lot of folk's day! I sure as hell hope that son-of-a-bitch packed a clean set of under shorts! I got his tail number though, and after I report him to the CAA for violating military restricted air space, the son-of-a-bitch will be lucky to get a job flying Eskimos out of Barrow, Alaska in de Havilland Beavers!"

We regrouped and I picked up the B-26 on my radarscope, and then asked Chuck to watch over my shoulder once more as I started my second attack run. This time I noticed that I was receiving two separate radar returns moving slowly across my 'scope from port to starboard; a faint return from the bomber and a second, much stronger one, from the radar reflector towed behind it.

Rolling in again, I locked-on to the strongest blip, centered it in the acquisition circle and closed on the target until a large 8 appeared on the display, indicating that the radar computer had fired my imaginary missiles, then immediately broke hard right. As I leveled off, I heard Chuck say, "It looked like you nailed that one, Iggy. Good run."

We made four more passes, all successful, before we ran low on fuel and had to return to the base. It was only a little after 11 am, and our second sortie wasn't scheduled until 1:30, so Chuck suggested we retire to the Club for lunch.

As we sat in the stag bar, munching on cold corned beef sandwiches and sipping iced tea, I broached the subject of the girls.

"What did you mean about Jeannie wanting to explore new horizons?" I asked innocently.

"I don't remember just how the subject came up, but for some reason she had apparently become quite interested in trying anal intercourse," Chuck replied. "She asked me if I would try it with her. I was a little hesitant at first, but Mary got into the conversation and insisted we should all try it. To make a long story short, I wound up screwing them both in the ass before the night was over," he chuckled. "As I was leaving, Jeannie said something to the effect that she couldn't wait for her next date with you. I think she's planning to ambush you the next time you two are alone."

"I can hardly wait," I quipped, as I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich. Little did he realize that the reason he was chosen to be her first, was that he was somewhat less well-endowed than I. I thought about giving him a new nickname like Teeny Winnie, Needle Dick, or something equally as insulting, but since he still had to sign off on my qualification in the 86D, I prudently thought better of it.

After flying another sortie that afternoon, with results similar to the morning flight, except this time with no wandering civilian aircraft to contend with, we ate dinner. Then, after Chuck had determined the B-26s were still available, we took off again at twilight and headed out to the range once more. Things went smoothly and by ten o'clock I had completed five more intercepts and had five more confirmed kills. After the fifth run, Chuck decided he'd had enough. "That should do it, Iggy. I'm convinced of your proficiency and there's no point in wasting more fuel, besides, my ass is getting numb. Let's head back to the barn and give these birds a rest," he suggested.

The next morning, at ten o'clock, there was a "Commanders Call" meeting at the base theater. Everyone was required to attend; all squadron pilots, their I/Ps, and all of our enlisted ground crew and maintenance personnel.

The large room was filled with muted conversations until the group training officer stepped to the podium, tapped the mic a few times, then blew into it twice to gain our attention before saying, "Good Morning gentlemen. We are gathered here this morning to celebrate the successful completion of F-86D transition training for the pilots and ground personnel of 37th Fighter Inceptor Squadron. I am pleased to announce that the pilots from this class ranked among the highest of the squadrons trained here thus far."

He then called our squadron commander to the podium to congratulate him personally. Our CO accepted a plaque citing our accomplishments and said a few words of thanks. As he stepped back from the podium, the training officer looked at his notes, then said, "Would Capt. Charles Ingram and 1st Lieutenant Ignatius Donaldson please join us on stage."

Chuck jabbed me in the ribs and chuckled, "Come on, Iggy. This is your chance to hog the spotlight!"

When we had joined the group on stage, the training officer motioned me to the podium. I stood at attention as he presented me with a polished walnut plaque with a certificate mounted under Plexiglas that read in part, "1st Lieutenant Ignatius Donaldson" and "Top Dawg Driver", followed by the date and our class number. I thanked him for the award, saluted crisply, and stepped back to join my commander. Chuck was then awarded a citation for Instructor Pilot of the Month, along with a three day pass. As the training officer turned to other matters, Chuck whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Meet me at the club in an hour."

After the meeting was over I was mobbed by my fellow pilots. What had seemed only a few moments later, I glanced at my watch and realized it was nearly time to join Chuck at the Officers Club.

As I entered the dining room, I found all our squadron pilots, including my squadron commander, were also in attendance. Shortly after that, Chuck appeared with Mary and Jeannie in tow.

Jeannie rushed over to me and congratulated me on my award by throwing her arms around my neck, then standing on tiptoes as she kissed me resoundingly on the lips.

As my fellow pilots hooted their approval, the kiss lengthened and I felt my face redden in embarrassment. When the long kiss finally ended, Mary eased Jeannie aside before moving in and giving me her own congratulatory kiss, also much to the delight of my squadron mates.

The girl's little exhibition was interrupted when the squadron commander, seated at the table, rapped on his water glass to gain our attention.

A number of tables had been pushed together, forming one long banquet table. After we had all taken our seats, with Mary and Jeannie seated between Chuck and I, our commander gave a short speech thanking us for our squadron's accomplishments. Then he read a list of twenty-one names, his and my own included, who would fly to Los Angles the next morning to take possession of our new aircraft. All of the squadron personnel not named would depart for Vermont at 1600 hrs tonight on our C-119s. I was pleased at the honor of being included in the group receiving our new birds, and even more pleased about not having to make that long, boring flight home in a wallowing Boxcar.

After an excellent lunch, paid for out of our squadron's recreational fund, the party broke up, and one after the other, the pilots drifted away to attend to their own departure plans. Soon Chuck, the girls, and I were the only ones left.

Jeanie, blushing hotly, announced that we should all retire to their house for my own, more personal, going away party, so we all piled into Chuck's Merc. I thought I knew what was coming and felt myself hardening in anticipation.

It turned out that I wasn't wrong in my assumption. As we entered the house, Jeannie grabbed my hand and led me to her bedroom, stripping off her clothing as we went. By the time we reached her room, she was completely naked, except for her bra and panties.

Standing beside her bed, she reach around behind her back and unfastened her bra, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her tiny panties and slid them slowly down her legs before dropping down onto the big bed, her legs spread invitingly.

By this time, I was so aroused I quickly shed my own clothes and joined her. Eying my now-rigid cock somewhat apprehensively, she said, "I'm ready to try that new technique now. Chuck broke me in the other night, you know."

"Okay, but let's try something a little more conventional first. You know, just to get us in the mood," I replied with a smile, as I pulled her into a warm embrace.

I pulled her on top of me and worked one leg between her hot thighs, which she immediately squeezed down on tightly and I felt her warm, wet crotch pressing against my thigh. Her lips met mine and her tongue slipped deep into my mouth, sliding in and out rapidly as though mimicking the action she really wanted.

Not one to deny a ladies wishes, I worked her body around until her legs were outside mine and slowly thrust my hips up and down, rubbing her hot, slick pussy lips along the length of my throbbing cock until, with a low moan of desire, she reached behind her and lodged its head firmly in the well lubricated entrance to her pussy.

I paused for a moment, relishing the feeling of her wet heat on my cockhead, before she pushed herself up and thrust her hips back against it, slowly forcing me deep into her maddeningly hot body. We rested for a moment, allowing her body to adjust to the size of my cock stretching her pussy walls, and then she moved up into a crouching position and started a slow posting motion, as though she were riding a spirited stallion. It started out slowly but gradually increased in speed and intensity until she was bouncing up and down on my raging cock.