Thejacket fell from her shoulders and was loose with some pleats at theend. The length went about an inch and a half past the top of theskirt.Due to ...he tightness of the skirt, it was all too easy for Charles topick up on her beautiful ass. The skirt sat a few inches above Ms.Hilliard's knees.Of course his wandering eyes did not stop there. Her legs were encasedin a set of silky, black seamed stockings. What Charles could not seewas the lace garter and garter belts that held up those two. "Actually, small as the apartment was, it was pretty nice. It could use some cleaning, but then again so could Ryan's dorm room. When you lived by yourself, it was sometimes too easy to let things pile up."Can I get you something to drink," Dalia asked as she tossed her sweater over the edge of the couch. "Soda, juice, maybe a beer?" Soda would be fine," Ryan said as he took a look at the uniform Dalia had been wearing beneath the sweater.The waitress outfit was identical to the one Beverly had. " Gotcha, Chuck, let's get this done, then I can show you their fixed wing stuff."Chuck said, "Oh shit, please, no more."I said, "Don't worry; we'll only take what we need. You know we do have some rental and charter needs."Chuck gave the station chief his debit card, who then wrote down the numbers from it. He made a call on his cell phone and read off the numbers he had copied. We walked to the office in the hangar where a fax machine was spitting out paper. When it was done, the chief walked. “I suppose you want some more of that bourbon?” “Just ginger ale. I took a couple of Tylenol so I wouldn’t have a headache.” “I have ginger ale,” I acknowledged. I moved into the kitchen, found a water glass, plopped a couple of ice cubes in it, took the ginger ale from the refrigerator and poured half a glass. I waited for the bubbles to recede, and then filled the glass. I carried it to her in the living room and handed it to her. Her eyes captured mine. “What?” I asked. She smiled. “You can.