Hopeful businessmen who came after hearing our approach to try and barter or sell their Mangoes and Cashews for us to buy and bring back to Florida. We took them Cokes and small gifts to start the negotiations. These traders and the cattlemen were the only people down there whom I really understood. We came to terms and then returned to the aircraft.
Once our customer's convoy of DUKWs were loaded and moving to the river crossing the Guyanan soldiers on the gun mount jeeps left the airport. Driving back to Georgetown I presume. It must have been a desirable gig to just hang around and accept their pay without ever speaking to us. Which was just fine by me. I mean why talk to us, the mining company had already paid them their supplementary stipend. We went out and greeted the local farmers whom we had earlier come to terms with.
Now that the miners were gone, the farmers drove their battered old trucks up to Nine-India-Charley. We were already experienced enough to keep dollars and unobtainable American consumer goods hidden in the unused baggage compartment to barter with local farmers and others we needed anything from.
By three in the afternoon we had paid for a load of Mangoes and nuts for Kristin to sell in Miami. The cargo was loaded, and tied down. The front strut indicated that the airplane was in balance and we were starting up number engine number four. We got the cargo door closed and locked; everyone got buckled in and we started the other three engines. Three, One and then Two in that order.
We completed our checklist items; we ran the engines up on the apron. Being unstaffed Mimi made the required announcement on the frequency assigned to the field as printed on the Jeppesen Chart and I flew our greasy mostly light grey bird off the runway. Miami was about four to four and a half hours in front of us depending upon winds.
As much as I disliked Lethem, it was a solid money maker for Icarus. It was our contract not a FSL, Fayetteville Springdale and Lowell, contract so we made money off of both ends. Only twice as far as the average trip for Sam we made almost four times as much money. We had been doing pretty well with Icarus and FSL, which pretty much meant Sam, who held the notes on the airplanes was impressed.
Fayetteville Sam, not to be confused with Bentonville Sam as he called that other Sam, the one that turned a variety store on the square in Bentonville Arkansas into the worlds biggest retailer... Sam was connected to the trucking firm we sold our original agency to. Our outbound loads usually consisted of their express packages, lots of American consumer goods for retail sale. Mixed in was the occasional airplane full of live baby chicks, which always left around midnight or two am due to the temperature.
Occasionally we would make flights up to Fayetteville Municipal, FYV in Fayetteville Arkansas, to pick-up those chicks. Those trips were big triangles, but pure profit, The ones to IAH, Houston Intercontinental, they ate at our bottom line, so we tried to schedule them for a return leg from Guatemala or Belize. Houston actually being fewer air miles from those points than Miami.
We were doing well and our clients were doing well. In a couple of years when Mimi and Mitch retired we had paid off the notes on the three DC-6s, and traded up to a single DC-8-73 that held slightly more than the three prop-jobs combined. It also flew twice as far at more than half-again the speed. It was a very long way from that dirty old Beech.
Guyana was our longest trip, just a tad further than Curacao, so as we flew over the island of Hispaniola halfway home Mimi took over and I caught a little nap. We had just traversed the eastern Caribbean Sea and that certainly influenced my dream. It was a beautiful memory from our too brief stay on Curacao flying around the five Dutch islands with runways long enough for our Commandos.
I loved the old Curtiss CW-20, the C-46 that flew the hump in the big one. I loved flying the Caribbean. loved Curacao, I loved the beaches there and snorkeling with turtles, walking through the old town and sampling the food. I loved our little vila near the airport with its many memories.
I loved the thick padded black leather cuffs that were on my wrists and holding me suspended from the ceiling of that villa by a sturdy rope. My toes were an inch or two from the floor. I loved the matching cuffs on my ankles attached to two lighter ropes tied to the side that spread my legs far apart. I loved being completely naked and totally helpless as my lovers touched me. As they spanked, slapped and flogged my buttocks and fondled them once red.
As they stood behind me fondling my breasts and belly and mound. As they sampled my increasing degree of wetness as their erections, that narrows it down, tickled my lower spine. I loved not being able to say, "lower down please guys, take a couple fingers of my lube, put it on you and push it in me." I loved not being able to say that, even as I wanted them to do that, because I loved the ball gag in my mouth muffling me.
I loved the black leather blindfold over my eyes as we played 'who is fondling Lisa now.' It, with 'who is eating Lisa now,' and 'who is buggering Lisa now,' are among my favorite games. We tried playing 'who is throating Lisa now,' but the blindfold would not stay in place. Not that I really minded.
One of my girls because... George's hands were on my breasts playing with my nipple studs. Punch's penis was on my left hip, and he was gently biting my neck. My girl who was in front of me was furiously two-fingering me and my juice must have been running down my leg and her arm. Someone was licking my rosebud, and then pushing a digit inside of me.
Those two fingers working my cunt became three and in a short while four. A mouth joined in the pleasurable assault upon my pussy. I came as four fingers became an entire hand. A different, female mouth was kissing my breasts and my right side. I knew it was Eva from her technique. So I had Punch and George and Eva figured out. That had to be Lillian fisting me, because Jamie had just started biting my ass. That meant Kristin was fingering my ass.
"I win," I thought to myself. Well, actually I won the moment Lillian walked out of the bedroom into the den, gave me an impish smile, and handed me the four cuffs and told me to, "get naked and put these on."
I orgasmed again from the attention my body was in receipt of, predominantly the fisting. My lovers stepped back from me. My legs were unclipped so I could stand. Wobbly at first, then my wrists were unclipped. The four soft leather cuffs were unbuckled from my wrists and ankles, and I was kissed a dozen or more times by my lovers.
Still blindfolded and gagged I was slowly led over to a narrow bed with the extra mattresses piled upon it and laid sideways across it on my belly. My blindfold and gag were removed...
As she switched the radio's frequency to 124.85 for Miami Approach Control, Mimi gently nudged me and I returned to work from my sweet dream. But that is life. There is always tonight, tomorrow and days to come when I can complete my interrupted memory. Or even better we can reenact it.
When I can be walked over to a bed or a padded table of the perfect height by my lovers and bent face down upon it. There I can take one of my boys' beautiful penises into my mouth and deep into my throat. While the other's gorgeous penis penetrates my butt. Where they can time their thrusts coordinating them either both-in-both-out or one-in-one-out, to my delight. Doing this as my girls slap my buttocks or lightly flog them and my back.
Or we can replay one the the greatest moments from my life. Where I similarly laid on my back on a padded table in our playroom in the 'House of Ill Repute' in Erewhon Texas. Each of my girls holding one of my arms or my legs while Punch throated me and George buggered me. Then the boys switched sides George in my throat while Punch fucked me vaginally. That was exactly the way that all seven of us did it when he impregnated me all those years ago.
***
Lisa Ann
