He was a tall, well-built man who looked to be in his 30s or 40s. He was in a pair of black trousers and a light blue dress shirt with a red tie. His ...air was salt and peppered, and I couldnt help but notice a slight bulge in the crotch of his pants. He cleared his throat and stepped to the red-heads desk and picked up the tablet on which Id written. He briskly withdrew a pen from his shirt pocket, made a note and then turned to face me. I noticed his eyes take in my red patent 5 inch stilettos. My only thoughts were I had just done to them what they had wanted to do to us. I had to forget it. Clear my mind for now. The spectre shuddered hard from a violent blast of flak, and the aircraft waffled wildly from side to side. The tail rudder had been hit but the damage was minimal, and the ship slowly regained its posture. The VOX radio channel crackled, and I heard cowboy tell the control aircraft we were heading to a higher altitude to re fuel. We started to climb and the AC130 moaned. She spiked herself on his cock; they both knew this was inspired by Anias Nin’s writing…the joyous, joyous impaling. Her cunt was trilling in a rapid alternation of up and down. Impale, release, stab, taken to the unbearable cusp of liberation, feeling the spearing, feeling the heat, basking in the luxuriance of enveloping hard meat in soft muscled yet mooshy flesh. To feel all woman. To be filled as a woman. To hold cock as a woman. Her orgasm building like a warbled echo of sweet held sound.. There were four mature males in training at the moment who went all the way Monday, Wednesday and Friday. And then, of course, there were the pups who had to be bottle nursed a few minutes each and every day and those who were old enough given five minutes at her breast, not for the nutrient value for her breasts were dry, of course, but to keep their puppy nursing habits well in mind through the transition period from puppy to fully trained adulthood. It was no wonder she got a little.