The Last Flight - Sex Stories

The Last Flight

... ground looked so small and today there were no clouds. We were flying over France and far below us I could see fields, trees and tiny houses and towns. It was like flying over a map, wonderful. “How are we doing for time?” I asked, more for something to say. Bob looked at his instruments. “Not bad,” he said. “Bit of a head wind but pretty much on time.” “That is good then, down in time for tea.” “Should be,” was the reply. “Okay, enjoy your coffee.” I returned to the cabin and closed the door behind me. Half way down the cabin, an elderly man stopped me. “I was just wondering,” he said as I stopped, “Why is there no seat numbered thirteen?” “Ah,” I winked at him. “That would be very unlucky.” I walked back to the rear and past seat twenty-five but didn't even notice it was unoccupied. To be continued...