The Last Flight. Chapter 4 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight. Chapter 4

... through the mess of tangled wires and framework to the ground a few feet below. Jemima was the last to leave, just behind her neighbour, the business man. “That is all?” I said aloud, looking around and over her shoulder. She nodded. “Yes, that's it, I'm afraid,” she said quietly. It was then I realised just how bad a crash this had been. The plane was largely intact. One wing was crumpled where it had hit the ground and sliced through the trees, and the fuselage was buckled and battered, but what struck me the most was the front. There was nothing at all left but twisted metal where the cockpit had once been, nothing recognisable. I guessed that as we slid off the runway and into the trees it had taken the full force of the impact and Eric and Bob must have seen it all coming as they tried in vain to save us. I could do nothing but stand and stare in disbelief but then jumped when something touched my shoulder. I looked to the side as Jemima took my arm and gently guided me away. “Come on,” she said, “You can do nothing more.” “Oh, wait, the flare gun!” I shook myself from her grasp. “Karen, wait!” she shouted, “You can't go back in there!” “I have to, they need to find us!” I was referring to the search party. “What if they don't know where to look?” “I will go, where is it it?” I looked around, surprised. The businessman had joined us, unnoticed. “It's in the... oh.” I stopped mid sentence. They both frowned. “In the cockpit,” I finished quietly, realising there was no ...

... chance of finding it. “Come away, Karen, They will find us. This is France, not Borneo.” Jemima guided me gently away from the wreckage. As I turned, a pain shot through my right leg and I stumbled. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned. We both looked down at the same time. “Oh my Lord!” I exclaimed. Blood was pouring down the outside of my leg from a gash on my upper thigh, about half way between my hip and knee. “I must have caught it on something.” I stated the obvious, but it was all that came out. The blood had soaked through the fabric of my skirt and was slowly seeping down through the tattered remnants of my stocking and into my shoe. Jemima turned to the businessman who was looked intently at my leg, not lustfully but as if afraid that something bad was going to happen to me. “I will have to dress that and quickly.” Jemima spoke urgently as she helped me to sit and lean against the base of a tall tree.”I need something clean. Can you find something for me, er...?” “George,” he offered, without waiting to be asked. “Okay... George.” Jemima repeated. “Get everyone together, Don't let them wander off and find something quickly. She is bleeding quite badly.” George nodded and hurried away towards the seven other survivors who were huddled nearby. I watched as he spoke animatedly to the others. They seemed to be arguing but before too long, George returned. “I am sorry.” he looked at us most apologetically, “This was all we could find between us that was clean.” He held out ...