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“You’re hard to resist,” I laughed. “You know, I wouldn’t mind fooling around a bit. It’s been a while since I’ve had any fun. But I’m super gross from the gym,” she replied. “I don’t care how sweaty you are.” I stood up and started kissing her. She didn’t say a word, just started to kiss back. It was intense. I could feel her heart pounding, likely still worked up from the gym. My hands ran over her wet body, slipping under her sports bra to free her breasts. I stopped kissing her long enough to lift off her sports bra. We paused for just a second as we gazed into each other’s eyes. “Fuck, I want this so bad,” she said. “Me too. Your body is incredible,” I said. She immediately pulled off my shirt and we kissed some more. We made our way to the bed. She sat down and I started kissing her neck. I slowly worked my way down her bossy. Licking the sweat off her skin. Kissing her breasts - I took her erect nipples in my mouth and sucked on them till she moaned. Then I kissed her belly. On the first night I stayed at Jim's he let me screw him, and loved it, and to my surprise said he loved being fucked and regularly fingered his hole when he was showering or sleeping alone, or out cruising.One Monday morning I went to work with Jim jizz still clinging to my nether regions, not worried too much about personal hygiene as I knew I'd be all alone in the office I shared with my boss, who was reaching retirement age, no great shakes to look at and often unwell. So in I went, got my papers sorted for the day and in walked my boss's boss and a man I had never seen before. My boss's boss, Kevin, was one of my fantasy men at work - he always smiled at me and Jim reckoned he had been blown by him late one night in a local cottage. Jim said he recalled that he had not long shot but the mouth the other side of the glory hole was that of a cocksucking maestro and drained him off. Kevin, six foot of godlike slaphead, introduced the new man as Dave, a tall, nicely built man.
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And they did not explain. ‘Sweet, you all set back there?’ asked Conner, looking up into the small mirror to see the helmeted head of Sweet, sitting behind her in the cramped confines of the cockpit of the Hornet. Sweet gave her a thumbs-up saying, ‘All set, Bitch.’ She then chuckled ‘I really love that name.’ Conner smiled. ‘So do I.’ ‘What a pair,’ said Sweet. ‘Bitch and Sweet.’ Conner chuckled. ‘We do okay.’ `Bitch.’ That was her call sign once she was in the fighter. Distinctive individual call signs were becoming tough to get. She had picked hers after her flight instructor had told her that if she would settle down and listen to him and paid real good attention she would be a `bitch’ of a pilot. She did. And she was. Attested to her by her twenty three years of service, having the rank of Captain, the 346 successful combat missions and her high carrier rating. She smiled. Remembering that one for real dog fight she had been involved in. It had involved the three out of four.

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