Flying High Intro
I set this to adult because its the introduction to my Flying High short erotic super short story, despite that there is nothing particularly lewd in this clip. Cleavage rearranging aside. :P Also of note, this is a newly rewritten version. The version still up on amazon will be slightly different. Nothings ever done perfectly.
The sun shines coolly on a fall day over the Pawsburg airport, with its handful of small hangers off to one side and small main building. Inside the 'air traffic controller', really more of a glorified radio handler, Faith Paka sits at her desk, absolutely bored out of her mind. The coffee and cream colored canine leaning on her desk and absentmindedly watching the new mower that someone had hired to deal with the grass on the sides of the airfield.
"He's kinda cute," she muses, head resting on her hand as she sits at her desk wasting time. The large radio next to her doesn't respond, which isn't a big surprise since she didn't push the large talk button on her stand mic. "Sure wish he'd come in."
The target of her gaze continues to do the task at hand, pushing a simple motor driven lawn mower in nice, neat, straight lines parallel to the tarmac. A light yellow lab, with deep golden hair. His bright red mower looks to have seen better days as he tries to push it through the shin high grass, with his shoes crunching up the mulched roughage as he goes, totally oblivious to watching fan inside.
With a crackle on the radio beside her Faith she jumps` ,jarred out of watching the man working outside. The gravelly voice that comes out of the speaker causing her to roll her eyes and snatch up her microphone. It was one of the crop dusters that regularly worked the areas farms, he was about to take off and was giving her all the info she needed. Faith hated this game.
There was never anyone at this airport. Nothing ever happened here. She honestly felt it was a miracle she got paid to do what she did. The pavement outside had grass starting to push into its cracks, and all that ever happened was these crotchety old crop dusters going out to do whatever the hell they did. She didn't want, or care, for the professionalism these country pilots wanted. For the hundredth time she considered telling the cross eyed pilot to just hurry up and take off, before he died of old age and being boring.
Instead she recites out his permission to take off, which direction to fly out, and scratching the time and a few other notes onto her jobs paperwork that she'd file away later. Quickly she gets back to her game, watching the workman work much harder than herself. A few moments of searching out of her large windows is all she needs to find him again, gazing right at his tight fitting jeans as he yanks on the mowers pull string repeatedly.
"Wonder what happened-" eyes opening wide as she realizes he's coming back towards her little quonset hut, "Oh god." A flurry of movement on her part, blocked by the tinting of the windows from the outside. Fixing her hair and trying to look professional as she adjusts herself in the top. She goes so far as to swiftly reach into her low cut shirt to pull her breasts up and together. There was no hurry, really. His ambling walk of defeat taking much longer to get to the door then she ever needed to adjust her cleavage.
As the lab pushes the door open and steps inside a little bell jangles and Faith enthusiastically remarks, "Something wrong? Do you need anything?" speaking rapidly, and flushing as he looks at her and begins to shake his head in obvious frustration.