It was a beautiful spring morning; the air clear, bright, and blue, with just a few high clouds to give the sky definition, the temperature balmy with a slight breeze to keep it fresh. I decided I wanted to go fly, just tool around over the valley, free and happy. Even if the flying is 'stressful' - suddenly you are second in line to land and there is a twin Beech behind you eating up the distance and you are pedaling as fast as you can in your little 150 and don't want to make even a little deviation from the pattern or you will screw it up and everyone on the channel will know you aren't up to snuff - even then it is also incredibly exhilarating and relaxing. It may sound contradictory, but from my experience, flying is the ultimate freedom.

I locked the door and headed out to my car. Just then, two attractive teens, a brunette, tall and willowy in really short pants and sandals, and a shorter teen, more athletic and blonde, also in a short top and little shorts, came walking down the sidewalk. We intersected right in front of my house. "Hi," I said fully expecting the normal teen response, a mumble and rolling eyes with a quick look away.

But the brunette girl met my eyes, paused and said, "Hi." The blonde didn't say anything.

Pleasantly surprised I said, "Beautiful morning, I'm glad winter is over."

The brunette said, "Yeah, I'm tired of winter clothes." The blonde was starting to look a little agitated.

I asked, "Do you guys need a ride?" And saw the alarm on one face. "No, no, I was just going out to fly and I'm not in a hurry so I had time."

"You're going to fly, where?"

"Just around the valley," I said.

"So this isn't like out at International?"

"No, it's my plane. You interested in flying?" I saw her eyes light up. "You want to fly the plane?"

"Yeah," she gushed before her social reticence could stop it. "I can't really fly a plane, can I?"

"Sure. You won't take off or land. Those take practice, but flying isn't that hard," I said. I stuck out my hand, "I'm Mike."

The brunette took my hand and said, "Kristine. This is my friend, Sheila." Sheila didn't extend her hand.

Sheila, having studiously ignored me, turned to Kristine, "Kristine, what are you thinking?" and gave me a sidelong look. I almost smiled thinking I bet she got that line from her mother and would she be mortified if she realized it.

Being harmless, I hope I looked harmless. Kristine enthused, "Oh, come on Sheila. We could actually fly a plane!"

"I'm not going up in no rickety little plane," Sheila said disdainfully.

"Actually, it's brand new, not rickety," I said, getting a severe eye roll out of Sheila. I was obviously clueless.

They argued for a bit more neither girl changing her position even a little, so I jumped in, "I don't want to ruin anything you guys had planned but if you don't want to fly, I can drop you off someplace."

"Fine, I'll go home, and I can walk," she turned on her heel and set off with a determined stride and nose in the air.

Kristine shook her head, "She'll get over it. She does that, gets mad and twenty minutes later she's all happy." Turning to me she asked, "Are you really serious? I could fly the plane?" I nodded. "When?" she asked.

I opened the door of the car and said, "Your pumpkin awaits to take you to the magic flying machine." She jumped in and I went round and got in. The airport is only ten minutes from my house, but I'll bet I answered several hundred questions by the time we got there.

I have a brand new Carbon Cub. It is a small plane and maybe not all that impressive on the ground. It is painted a sporty bright red and white with great big tundra tires that allow it to land just about anywhere. If you don't believe me, go to You Tube and type in Carbon Cub landing or Carbon Cub takeoff. Then hold on to your hat.

I pre-flighted the plane, checking everything and telling Kristine what I was doing and why. The tanks were full since I always fill the gas tanks after landing to avoid moisture in the tanks. I helped her into the back seat, the plane is too narrow for side by side seating, and strapped her in. Getting the shoulder harness right, I couldn't help but notice her nicely shaped tits under her thin shirt.

I hopped in front and fired her up; checking the gauges and making sure everything was in the green. I listened to the automated weather brief for pilots, ATIS, and called the tower for taxi to the active runway. I taxied sedately out to the active runway to give that big 180 horsepower engine time to warm up. I could see in the mirror that Kristine was watching everything with wide open eyes. At the runway, I ran up the engine and checked the magnetos and carburetor heat.

This is something that drives me crazy. This is a brand new engine and it is built with a carburetor which is ridiculous since carburetors tend in certain flying condition to develop ice and quit running. So they have to build in special carburetor heat, which decreases engine performance, to keep the planes from having the engine cut out.

Cars have been using fuel injection for decades which would eliminate the icing problem. So why don't plane engine builders use fuel injection? You're not going to believe this but, they worry that if they now used fuel injection, they would get sued and lose the case every time some yahoo crashed his plane that was designed before fuel injection was developed. Some lawyer would get them on the stand and ask, 'If fuel injection is better why didn't you use it 45 years ago when this plane was built?' It was obviously a dangerous design even though it has flown perfectly for 45 years. And the horrible thing is the designers lose those lawsuits. Juries love to give money to people who do stupid things and kill themselves leaving behind those poor orphans. Once again, greedy fucking lawyers screw up any progress. Shakespeare had it right: first, kill all the lawyers.

Once everything was warmed up I called in for departure to the east. I had to wait for one plane to land, then we were cleared. "Hang on, here we go." I pulled out, lined up on the centerline, and opened the throttle all of the way, the plane leapt into the air and quickly climbed to 2500 feet where I leveled off and cut back to 75% throttle. I kept the controls as long as we were in Class D airspace since it was possible I'd have to respond to the traffic controller.

Within minutes, we were out over the fields and I told Kristine to put her feet on the pedals and hand on the stick. I had one of those nasty thoughts to tell her to caress the stick but my mental suppressor cut in, luckily. "Okay, can you see this gauge to the right with a big and small needle?"

"Yeah," she said having to lean a little to see over my shoulder. The plane only has a front instrument panel, what with the back seat so close.

"That's the altitude. How high are we?"

"Um, 2 - 5," she said.

"Good, that's two thousand five hundred feet. So first thing you want to learn is to keep the aircraft at the same altitude." I pressed the stick down for a bit. "Now, what's our altitude?"

"2 - 4, I mean two thousand four hundred," she answered. That was good, she was quick.

"Okay, slowly take us back to where we should be. Use smooth slow movements of the stick." And slowly we started climbing. She over shot slightly and had to bring us back down. "Excellent. Okay next gauge," I said pointing the compass, "tells us where we are going. Right now our heading is ninety, or nine zero. So, keep us on heading and at altitude."

I could tell she was immediately flustered by too many things all at once, a common occurrence for student pilots. My instructor once described early pilot training as trying to drink water thru a fire hose.

"Kristine, try this. Pick some point out on the horizon lined up with the nose. Now just keep it there. You only need to check the gauge every once in awhile to make sure you haven't drifted." I could see some of the strain evaporate. That was much easier that trying to keep a needle which bounces around naturally on a little mark. "On the altitude, you can learn to feel the movement up and down and do the same thing. Or better see how the nose lines up with the horizon and keep it there, then check the altimeter occasionally just to make sure you are feeling things correctly."

Now she was able to relax a little and fly. Soon, she was smiling. "God, I'm flying a plane."

I decided not to confuse the issue and tell her there was a little more to it than that. "Told you it was easy. Okay, turns. To turn the plane you need to press the pedal the way you want to turn and move the stick that way." I felt the slightest of right turns. Most folks are afraid initially of over doing the controls. "A little more or we'll never get turned."

She laughed and added more.

"Stop us at heading 1-8-0," I said. We stopped at 1-9-0, not bad for the first time since the compass tends to lag in a turn and you have to learn to come out of the turn early. We had also lost a little altitude. "Nice first turn but check your altitude."

"What happened?" she asked.

Ah, one of those wonderful teachable moments. I held up my hand and it's the airplane inside our airplane. Like all pilots I can't talk flying without flying my hand. "When we are flying straight and level, we have just enough lift to counteract gravity so we don't go down, but not enough to rise. All of our lift is going straight down against gravity, but when we turn, some of that lift now goes to the side to push us around that turn. That lost lift allows the plane to settle slightly and we lose altitude. So what you have to do is as you turn, you press the pedal, turn the stick, and pull back just enough to create a little extra lift to hold you at the same altitude. Don't worry, with a little practice it will all come automatically." I took the stick for a second to put us back at 2500 and on 1-8-0. "Okay, try to bring us back to 9-0 and at two thousand five hundred."

Concentrating, she brought it around and stopped close to course and altitude.

"Great," I said, her face breaking into a big smile. I ran her through a few more maneuvers as she got more comfortable flying the plane. I took the stick back and told her to relax and watch the world. I went thru some maneuvers including tight turns, stalls and other things. On the steep turn at 60 degrees, we came around so fast we hit our own wake. It's like hitting a big bump in the road, a loud thump and the plane bounced. For a first timer it probably felt like we hit something, and we did. We hit air, roiling air.

"What was that?" Kristine asked concerned. So I explained. Her answer, "Do it again."

She was a natural and I told her so. We were now out by the foothills and I knew a little butte that came up out of the valley maybe thirty feet on rocky cliffs, flat and grassy on top with a stand of trees at one end. I headed that way and cut power descending to a thousand feet. I found the butte and throttled back to idle, slowed and put in full flaps at five hundred feet, came on down, and jockeyed the throttle and stick, slowed almost to stall and set down on the mesa and ran up towards the trees. I came around and cut power. I opened the plane and helped Kristine out after shutting everything down. She looked around and said, "Wow. It's like being up on a throne or something."

"Welcome to your kingdom, Princess."

She laughed but looked pleased. I grabbed a blanket I had in the plane and spread it next to the trees.

"How did you know about this place?" she asked.

"By accident. When I saw it, I came down and did a really slow pass to make sure it didn't have any hidden ravines or something and landed. As you saw, we can land and takeoff in almost nothing." I said.

"You've taken off here before?'

I nodded, "Lots of times. I love it up here, like you said, 'It's our place up here.'"

She nodded and looked out over the view.

It was just one of those magical little moments; the cool breeze, the bright sun, the bucolic setting at our feet, the fun of flying, a beautiful girl at my side. I leaned towards her and I guess she was feeling the same for our lips met and sparks jumped as our tongues started the primal dance. Her arms came round my neck pulling me over her as she fell back our kiss never stopped. With body pressing against body, the warm air only helped kindle the amorous heat between us.

Kristine was hungrily kissing me as her body pressed fervently against mine. My cock sprang erect and her thigh rubbed against it. Lord, that was too much for me to hold back anymore and my hand slipped under her top to find her firm tit. She pressed against my hand and moaned into my mouth. I remember my exact thought, 'She wants it, ' and I knew what it was. I pulled off her top and our lips broke apart enough to allow me to pull off the shirt. She reached behind and tossed her bra aside. I tossed my shirt off. She hopped up as I stood and grabbed for my belt and I helped her pull off my shorts and boxers. I kicked off my shoes as she also stood and reached for those tight little shorts. She smiled seductively as I grabbed for them as she bounced away. Smiling back at me, she slid her shorts and thong down her long legs and kicked them back to me. My God she was hot.

I held out my arms and she hurried back into them. I pulled her down onto the blanket and practically dove onto her as we locked up again. She pushed me onto my back and slid on top, rubbing her pussy against my rod. I felt her heat and juices smearing over my cock. She slid up a bit and I was pressing against her. She broke our lip lock and sat up straddling me, reaching behind to grab my pole and center it. Now with a better position, she settled and I felt my cock engulfed by her tight pussy. "Oh, yes," she moaned, beating me to the punch as that is exactly what I felt like saying.