Chapter 10

The next day I walked into the park office to find Helen and Cindy chatting. I waved a set of keys at her. "It's time," I said.

"Time for what?" she asked with a puzzled look.

"Time for you and me to go fire up the Starship Enterprise. Or a 1968 model Cessna airplane. Something like that."

Squeal. Hug.

"What?" asked Helen.

"Mechanic called me today. He finished the inspection on my airplane and it's ready to fly again."

"Oh, yeah. You told me you had a plane over there." "There" being the local airport.

"Yeah, and Miss Cindy is getting ready to make her first, and if she pukes all over the place, her ONLY flight in it." I looked at Cindy. "Go get some jeans on. This ain't a "skirt" kind of airplane, baby!"

Half an hour later we pulled the truck up next to an open hangar at the little country airport. There was another truck there, the mechanic's. We shook hands. "John Randolph," I said, "meet Cindy Smith. I tutor her in math, and I promised her a ride if she brought her grades up."

He smiled. Most people, and 99.9% of men, smile when they meet Cindy. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Cindy. You don't have to worry. The wings won't fall off. He might fly into a pine tree, but the wings will be there when he does."

Cindy grinned. "Thank you, Mister John. I'm thinkin' it's worth a risk. My first time in an airplane. Ever."

John turned to me. "Dan," he said, "everything checks out. You're good for a year." He handed me the plane's logbook. I gave him a check. "Call me if you need anything. Okay?"

"You bet, John," I said. "Thanks!"

"Want me to help you pull her out?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure."

We pushed the plane out of the hangar onto the concrete apron. I watched, Cindy by my side, as John drove off.

"Now what?" asked Cindy.

"We do a ritual. It's called a "pre-flight inspection" and you do it EVERY time you get ready to fly."

I did the walk-around with Cindy at my side asking questions every step of the way. Finally I had her open the passenger side door and take a step on the tire, another on the step, and finally into the cockpit.

The last step got me a comment. "Yeah, I think a skirt would have been a little bit revealing." She smiled.

I showed her how to buckle her harness, and then I climbed into the pilot's seat. "Here," I said, handing her a huge pair of headphones with an attached microphone. "Put these on so we can talk to each other without hollering. This old thing's loud." I showed her exactly how loud when I started the engine. We completed the ritual and taxied to the runway.

I looked at her. "Are you ready?" I asked.

She shook her head in the affirmative, grinning broadly.

"Okay. There's a barf bag in the glove box if you need it."

"No way!" she said. "I'm excited. Let's do this!"

"Okay," I said. "Here goes!" I pushed the throttle forward and we took off. Once we were out of the local pattern, I said, "Okay, now put your feet on those pedals and your hands on the yoke."

She looked at me almost incredulous. "Like, I'm gonna FLY this?"

"Yeah. Watch!" I took my hands off the control yoke. "It'll almost fly itself, so don't be scared."

Her eyes were wide. So was her grin. We flew around with me coaching her through turns and climbs and glides and toured the area, overflying the RV park and her school. Finally I said, "Okay. I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry."

"Oh, no, Dan! I could do this forever."

"We'll see about that. This old thing is burning fifty bucks worth of gas an hour. We've been up an hour. And I'm hungry!"

"Okay..." She took her hands off the yoke.

"Oh, no, little girl. You're still flying." I crossed my arms.

"Eek!" she squealed, grabbing the yoke. We did a quick little porpoise move as her untrained hands wiggled the yoke in and out.

I put my hands back on my yoke and went along as I talked her through navigating back to the airfield and setting up in the traffic pattern, then had her fly along with me as we landed. We taxied back to the hangar and she and I pushed the old plane back into its shelter.

We got back in the truck. "Wow!" she said. "Just HOLY WOW!"

"You liked it, then?"

"Oh, god, yes!" She jumped across the cab and hugged and kissed me. "Do you realize you just gave me the SKY?!?!?"

"It is kinda cool, ain't it?" I said. "Pizza for supper?" I asked. "I can make a phone call and we can beat them back to the trailer." There was a local pizzeria that did delivery.

"Yeah! That's great!" A cellphone call got that on the way.

The ride home was all about flying. She asked the how and the why and I feared I'd created another monster: A cute red-headed one. Oh, well. There are worse things for people to want.

We were sitting together on the sofa when the pizza arrived. After finishing it off, we traded sloppy, garlic-flavored kisses, then did the shower thing.

Afterward, drying her hair, I said, "Baby, I don't know the first thing about getting a young lady's hair done."

"Ain't much to it, honey," she said. "I don't get my hair DONE, I get it cut. That's all. I know the lady that does it. An' I can call her an' get it done. I'm about due."

"Really?" I observed that it was just beginning to drag her shoulders.

"Yeah, it's, like, an inch or two too long."

"You don't get it colored?"

"Nope. This is what color you get. Mom wasn't gonna pay for extra stuff for me." She paused. "Unless. Why? D'you want me to change it?" She turned and looked at me.

"Oh, no, baby," I answered. "I'm a sucker for it just the way it is. Women pay a lot of money to get hair like you have naturally."

That got me a smile. And a twinkle. And a question that sat me back. "So tell me how this hand job thing works..."

"What?"

"Hand jobs?" She looked at me, eyes a-twinkle. "I heard Mom an' whoever ... I assume it's somethin' that the girl does to the guy, from the sound of it."

"Yeah. Girl can do that to the guy, or the guy can do it to himself."

"I heard that's how guys masturbate."

"It is."

"Really? You do that?"

"Yeah, I did that. Thinking about you, since after I moved here."

Giggles "Really? I excited you?"

"Baby, you're the very definition of exciting."

That got me a hug. And kisses. And a hand wrapped around my dick. "Lay back an' tell me how to do this..." She sat beside me, naked except for her panties.

"Ain't much to it. You already do it. Last night, the only difference was that you sucked on me at the same time."

She smiled as she slid the skin up and down my shaft. "Like this?"

"Yeah. Or just slide the whole thing in an' out of your hand, and every now an' then, rub the head. You'll get it."

She was having fun. Right hand was doing the duties on my dick, her left fondling my balls. "Yahknow," she said, "I never saw your stuff come out. I feel it inside me. I felt it in my mouth, like yesterday. But I never saw it come out." Little Miss Flexible bent over and sucked on my nipple, causing my dick to jump. And her to giggle. Matter of factly she said, "Come for me."

She kept jacking and I was getting close. Pre-cum started by drops at first, then a steady flow and my hips were thrusting into her hand. "You're getting' close," she announced.

"Oh, yeah," I hissed. "I'm. Getting. Close. Ohbaby ... Nnngghhh! Yeah. Commmingggg!" I thrust hard and the first jet of my orgasm went straight up about three feet.

"Oh, wow!" she giggled. She kept stroking. I kept spurting. Three or four more good ones, then a steady flow that covered her hand. As I collapsed backward onto the mattress, she smiled and made a show of licking her hand. Then sucking me clean. And she laughed. "I don't know where that first one landed. Wow! I mean, I felt you inside me, and when I sucked you last night, I could tell it was squirtin' but I had no idea it went that far. Wow!"

I pulled her next to me and then rolled on my side to face her. I've often heard of eyes described as "adoring". I looked into Cindy's. And knew what the term meant. "Now you've done it," I said.

"What'd I do?"

"You've finished me off, an' I owe you two now, an' it's too early to go to sleep."

My Cindy grinned. "TV? Cards? Both?"

"Both." Cindy was fun to play cards with. It was always a battle. We were 50-50 at rummy. I tossed her a t-shirt. "Cover up." I put on a t-shirt and gym shorts, with no underpants. We went into the other end of the trailer where the TV and sofa were, and I pulled a little table out for us to play cards on. And we laughed and played and talked and even watched some TV. At ten, it was bedtime.

We crawled in from opposite sides. Well, I started to crawl in.

"Uh-uh," she chided.

"What?"

"Take those shorts off. They get in my way."

"Okay," I smiled.

We slid together under the covers and her hand just naturally grabbed my dick, gently fondling, soothing, juggling my balls in her hand. Finally she rolled on her side facing away from me, and I turned toward her, spooning up behind her. She wiggled her ass onto my dick. I put an arm around her and squeezed on her titties gently, feeling the nipples harden, then I drifted my hand downward, my fingers stroking her pubic mound, firm beneath her panties. The final sound I heard before I dozed off was her "mmmmm".

And so went the week. By Friday a couple of things happened. First, Cindy's period was over. Second, we were settling into a happy routine. Thursday was another trip to the library. More books. We had to figure out how to work a little space into our togetherness. I bought a wireless card for my laptop, then gave it a little more thought, bought another one, and a laptop for Cindy. For school, of course.

Two weeks passed. I rolled into my parking spot beside my trailer. Its door flew open and Cindy bounced out to meet me. This was a sore point, because the first thing that came to both our minds at the end of the day was an embrace that went well past the "young girl greeting her friend" scale.

I met her eyes. "Nuh-uh..." I said.

"Oh, I knowwww," she countered. "I just wanted to tell you that the scores came back on my test. They're gonna call Mizz Helen about them."

"Okay," I said. I looked back towards the office. Helen's SUV was still there. "Let's go tell her." I flipped open my cellphone and called the office. "Hey!" I said when Helen answered. "Can you hang around a minute? Me an' Cindy need to talk to you."

"I was gonna call you," she said. "Got a call from school about Cindy."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "We're on the way..."

One thing that HAD changed in the last two weeks was that Helen was on our tiny inside circle. How tiny? I knew. Cindy knew. Helen knew. So when we entered the office and I leaned up against the counter, I had Cindy almost welded to my side. She shook her head to get a strand of hair out of her eyes.

Helen smiled. "I like your haircut, sugar," she told Cindy.

"Thank you, Mizz Helen, but I'm gonna need a trim soon," she said.

"We can get that done, baby," said Helen. Then she turned to me. "So, Dan, the school calls me since I'm her guardian. They want to see me about some tests she took a couple of weeks ago."

"Good? Bad?" I questioned.

"Oh, don't get your drawers in a wad. They said they're very much pleasantly surprised."

"Well good, then..."

"Yeah, and they want a parent-teacher conference to talk about it. I told them that I wanted to bring you 'cuz I'm a ol' country girl an' I don't know much about that stuff."

"Okay. I'm up for that. When?"

"Next Tuesday. Nine AM. Counselor's office at the middle school."

"I can do that. I'll make sure."

"This is good, right?" questioned Cindy.

"Yeah, baby, if by 'good' you mean you have to stop skatin' through classes and buckle down an' use your brain..."

"What'd'ya mean, Dan," asked Helen.

"Well Helen, it's like this. Our little Cindy's mind in regular classes is kinda like having a NASCAR racer in the Wal-Mart parkin' lot. She's never had to use most of the horsepower."

"Yah think so?" Helen was perhaps not privy to Cindy's scholastic abilities, having only seen her at the pool and bouncing in and out of the office over the summer.

Cindy was smiling. She should be smiling. I was complimenting her. "Yeah. I KNOW so. So far, it's been a good thing because Cindy's mom wasn't real big on education, so all by herself, Cindy's been able to stay at grade level, all without help, and apparently without trying very hard." I winked at Cindy.

Helen popped, "It's a wonder she went to school at all..."

I continued. "Since this year began, I've been watching her. That "Please, Mr. Dan, help me with my homework" act got thin after the first week. She's sort of idling through her classes now."

"So what do you think they're gonna tell us Tuesday?"

"What I just told you. Except they're gonna tell you in "Professional Educator" language to make it sound mysterious." I fully expected to meet some product of the "Of educators, FOR educators" professional educator type.

"An' what's that mean to me?" asked Cindy.

"Yeah," said Helen.

"Now that could be interesting. I don't know what schools around here offer. Some places would move her into advanced classes. Some might try to move her up a grade or two."

"But she'd be fourteen in high school?"

"Yeah," I said. "I don't know if I like that."

"Me neither," Cindy chimed in. "Middle school boys are yuck enough. Older? No way!" She caught my eye. "Boys, I mean." She swung her hip to bump against my thigh. "You're NOT a boy."

"I guess we need to see what they say, then," I said. "and you can tell 'em I'm her tutor, Helen."

Helen smiled at the two of us. "Ain't that somethin'," she laughed. "Next thing you'll tell me is that she's wantin' to be an engineer..."

And Cindy giggled.

Helen laughed back. "Figures," she snorted. "So that's next Tuesday. Ya'll got plans for the weekend?"

"Yeah," Me an' Cindy're going to Mobile. Nice hotel. Nice restaurants. Tickets to a symphony."

"A symphony?" Helen arched an eyebrow, looked at Cindy. "Since when do you do symphonies?"

"Since Dan showed me that there's more to music than what Mom listened to."

"Dan, Dan, Dan..." Helen laughed, "You're the damnedest thing I ever saw. Take a girl out of an Alabama trailer park an' get her to studyin' engineerin' an' listenin' to classical music in a month an' a half..."