S. Army’s 94th Aero Squadron.The red white and blue top hat in a hoop insignia of America’s first aviation pursuit squadron was a consistent theme...through the faux French farmhouse restaurant I was driving past on James S. McDonnell Boulevard along the northern perimeter of Lambert-Saint Louis Airport, near the buildings those Curtiss Commandos we would be flying next year in the Caribbean were manufactured.Although the restaurant was right next door to our hanger, we very rarely ever went. Think I've dialled the wrong number, can you tell me what number that is please?"The lady read out her number and it matched the one on her note."Sorry," said Deedi."This service is completely confidential, you can talk if you wish," said the lady, obviously not quite believing Deedi. She slowly put the receiver down and then looked around worried in case someone had come in to the office and overheard the conversation but no one had. Her mind reeled as she stared at the desk. She then noticed. He had blond hair, green eyes and two-day stubble. “I wasn’t sure you would come,” he said. “I’m not sure I should have,” I said. “I wouldn’t blame you for feeling weirded out,” he said. “In your place, I would, too. Can I explain?”“Go ahead.”He took a deep breath.“I’m married, as you probably figured out. Three kids. I love my wife and family and would never do anything to mess that up.“It’s not like I have a secret life, having sex with men all the time. I messed around with a friend in high. Bat had ridiculed her in front of his cronies when she brought up the subject of marriage and told her,"Honey, I sure do love your pretty little pussy and I love poking that soft little ass, but I would never start housekeeping with a slut that loves to stick her ass up high for any big cock that comes along."For the past nine months, she had been subjected to almost nightly indignities to her body. She had discovered Sheriff Bat was so degenerate that even the bar hall girls didn't want.