The only thing I needed to tell her was to slow down a little. When she started making the odd purring noise and her saliva became audible around my s...aft, that was it."Now you can speed up," I gasped.She did, to the tune of increased slopping noises. I made no attempt to restrain my ejaculation or utter a word of warning. I was sure I had permission — I was getting a feel for her sexual personality, but it was a quick learning curve to relate to her as hardcore lover instead of platonic. She staggered a little from the slap, but she stayed on herfeet.He used the passkey he had made a year before when he was working forPark services, slapping the Men's room door open, then threw the bolt."On your knees, bitch."Still that calm look. Daintily she pulled her skirt up and knelt, and hecaught her head with his hand as he unzipped his pants. He flopped outhis cock, and dragged her head toward his crotch."Last chance," she said in that same bored tone."Either you suck it, or I'll break. Wait ... water ... not land?”“Alighting ... but seaplane pilots call it landing ... or water landing ... alighting is the correct term ... but...”“Saves confusion?” I said.“Yup ... no longer flying ... but not crashed.”“Ah ... the important distinction ... not crashed.”“The big lake is littered with failed carrier landings.”“They had carriers on the great lakes?”“Converted passenger steamers ... two of ‘em. Official historians claim that every carrier pilot trained in Lake Michigan.”“Why not. The girl walked over to the washer where our clothes were thrown in earlier and opened the lid. Grabbing the clothes, she threw them all out on the floor. I saw her pick up a pair of my wife still wet pantyhose and see through panties with one of her T-shirts and throw them at me.“Put these on faggot, can’t have you getting a cold when we go out.’ she yelled at me, while giving my ass a slap.I didn’t hesitate at all picking up the wet garments and putting the panties and then hose on. They were.