The Last Flight Chapter 7 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight Chapter 7

... two I opened my eyes. Françoise was gone and I was covered once again but I could see a figure standing at the end of my bed. As my eyes focussed I saw that it was Jemima! I sat up quickly and looked at her. She looked pale and sad. I wanted to speak but no words would come. “ I came to say goodbye,” was all she said. “ You are leaving? But you were sick, you can't leave!” I blurted out, dumbfounded. “ I have no choice,” she replied, sadly, “I have to go,” and she turned and walked out through the door. “ Jemima, wait!” I called out, “You cannot leave like this. Jemima, Jemima!” I threw back the cotton sheet and tried to get out of bed but strong hands held me down. “ Miss Farmer, Karen. Hey, c'mon now. It's all right.” I stared wildly about me, blinking in the half light of the dawn. “ Doctor Harlow! What? I mean, how...?” “ I was passing when I heard you cry out,” he said. “I guess you were having a nightmare?” “ Oh, no,” I told him, “Jemima was here, said she was leaving.” “ I am sorry, Sweetheart.” He looked sad. “I just checked on her for you. She is still in theatre. I am afraid she is very sick. She did a lot of harm coming here to find you and is in a very bad way.” “ But she can't be. I just spoke to her. Matron Blanchard must have seen her, she was here too.” I was getting very confused. “ Honey, Matron Blanchard doesn't get here for another two hours yet.” He looked sympathetically at me. “I will let you know if I hear any more about your friend. Now try and rest ...

... until the rounds begin. I have no doubt you will have another busy day ahead of you.” I lay back and closed my eyes but I couldn't sleep. I suppose it must have been a dream. All of it. Left alone now, I began to wonder about the other passengers, those who had not survived and in particular, the elderly couple in the front seats who had died holding each other hands. I knew nothing about them but I began to imagine that they had probably been together all their lives and, as they had lived together, they had died together. Would I ever find a love so strong? I doubted it. I was thirty years old and had never met a man I liked enough to want to be with for more a few hours and now I was having strange dreams involving an older woman. No, I would never find such a love... My mind began to wander back to the days when I worked in the munitions factory. It was hard work and long days and yet, somehow, I seemed to enjoy it. I was a little wild back then. I would flirt outrageously with the few men who worked there, mainly supervisors who were generally not fit for war service, not fit for factory service either, most of them. They didn't know much about how to make bullets and shells any more than the people they were suppose to train and supervise. Accidents were common place and how we never had a serious one was more luck than anything else. I looked down at my hands and remembered how they were when I had joined T.E.A. just six years before. The harsh chemicals had all but ...