The Last Flight. Chapter 4 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight. Chapter 4

My eyes focussed on the horrific scene before me. The cabin was largely intact, but not as it had been. Windows were broken, the luggage racks had come down and bags and their contents were strewn everywhere. Interior panelling was buckled and broken, missing in places, and electrical wiring was hanging. The acrid smell of burnt metal and rubber filled my nostrils, but there was no fire that I could see, although the air was filled with dust and smoke. I tried to stand, but my legs were so weak that I had to crawl towards the nearest seats where I found Jemima was hanging in her belt and leaning sideways from her seat, the armrest preventing her from falling, whilst her arm hung loosely to the floor. There was blood on her pretty face from a cut hidden in her matted hair, and I feared the worst but took her wrist and attempted to find a pulse. I didn't find one, but there was no need because as I moved her, she groaned and her eyes flickered open. She looked at me, the confused look on her face suddenly changing to relief as she realised that she was alive. With neither a smile nor a word, she raised her head and winced as she bumped it on the piece of panel that had fallen across her. I guessed that was what had cut her head. “Are you okay?” I asked her. She waited, considering the question. “Yes... yes, I think so.” She put her hand to her head and felt the sticky but drying blood. “Are you?” she asked. “I think so.” I tried to smile but it was difficult. My stomach hurt ...

... but I put it down to bruising from the impact. “Hold on to me whilst I release your belt,” I told her but she shook her head. “No, I'm okay. I think you had better see to your other passengers.” She indicated seat twenty-four. I turned to see him sitting upright and rigid, pressing back into what remained of his seat. His eyes were staring straight ahead. At first I thought he was dead, but then I realised he was sweating profusely and trembling. I turned back to Jemima who had now released her buckle. “Will you check them whilst I try and get the door open?” I asked her, “We need to get out of here as soon as possible, I can smell fuel.” She nodded and prised herself out from the wreckage of her seat. I could see she was in considerable pain. “Are you sure you are okay?” I repeated my previous question. “Yes, yes, just a little battered and bruised.” She smiled or, at least, tried to. “Okay,” I said, “But if you are not you tell me, promise?” She nodded and turned away to seat twenty-four. My priority now was to get the door open. I grabbed the handle but it wouldn't budge, the door was so buckled that the locking mechanism was jammed solid. I tried everything I could to move it but it was hopeless. Behind me I could hear Jemima's voice. “You are alright now, we are down. You are safe.” Her voice was gentle and caressing When I turned around, I saw she was speaking to the man in seat twenty-four who was crying now. I went over to them. “Is he all right?” I asked her and she ...