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The airspeed indicator, one of the new 'clock' models, told him they were doing 80 miles per hour. He pulled a folded map from the holder by his side and spread it on his knee. He picked up his first waypoint and reported the relative bearing to the instructor. He checked his watch and settled back, wiping a smear of oil from his goggles and stamping his feet against the cold. The sky was clear and bright and Phillip thought that he could see forever.The first hint of trouble came when he heard the engine miss a beat. He checked the oil pressure; it looked normal. He tapped the gauge with a gloved finger and the needle dropped alarmingly. The engine spluttered and then resumed its steady beat. He throttled back slightly, picked up the mouthpiece of the Gosport tube and spoke urgently into it."Oil pressure is way down and still falling. I think we have a major oil leak." What do you propose?" Head for the land and look for somewhere to put her down before she seizes." Good plan. Let. Naked and dripping wet we also quickly left the shower room. Angie was waiting for us in the hallway with our clothes. Other men might come; the situation could get out of hand. We had to get away from here. We didn’t dry off but hurriedly put on our jeans and t-shirts. Barefoot, holding our trainers, we dashed down the corridor, out of the building. The cool night air hit us as we ran down the dark, deserted street. Angie was behind us. We took a break in a nearby dark alley. Peter and I leaned breathlessly against a wall behind large garbage containers. We were both wet and disheveled. I gazed at Angie as she smiled and caressed my face. In the rush I’d forgotten to button up my jeans. She gently slipped her hand inside, searching for the space between my legs. I felt her fingers delicately caressing the edges of my still pulsating vagina. “Hmmm, Alea,” she sighed; “You need an ice pack baby. Your genitals are so sensitive and swollen…” I saw her look at Peter, leaning against the.
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