You hear something

Then there's a sound of a camera snapping and quickly you're taken aback to your surroundings and see the interviewer standing there at the side of your plane as a whirlpool of emotions brews up inside of you.

"What are you doing?" You ask as the young man takes a few steps back. Grabbing hold of the side of the cockpit, you were about to jump if it wasn't for a realization: You were half-naked, and if you were to jump out to confront him, what were the chances of him taking you seriously. Biting your tongue you hold still, awaiting his response.

"I wanted to take pictures of The Whispered **** but, uhh... Tried to get pics in a bad time it seems." It wasn't obvious whether or not he noticed you masturbating or if he even caught you touch yourself, but he had something that could help both of you.

Breathing deep and calming your nerves, a scenario came into your mind and thought about it for a second as another clicking sound was heard. You shot your head once more to the interviewer.

"Sorry about that," you start though it doesn't feel like you were even supposed to apologize but went with it anyway, "I've been stressed out for a while now. Why don't you come up here? I could use your help."

There was a faint raising for the eyebrow, at least from where you were, but the interviewer made his way on top of the wings and when arriving at the cockpit, you could see that he was amazed at your spread legs; you couldn't help but smirk a little and a thought came to mind before words came out of your mouth, prompted by your brain.

"Why don't you come inside? As sorry." The tone was a stark contrast from the previous ones you had with him as it was gamey and flirtatious now. The interviewer hesitated for a second but dropped his camera which fortunately had a lace on it and around his neck.

"The cockpit's a bit small, don't you think miss?"

"Right, good call. Let me balance the plane and get on the hangar." One exposed leg came out of the pilot seat to the side opposite of the interviewer before the other came out. Lifting yourself out you could feel your bare ass take-in the hangar's dry and warm atmosphere. You glance behind and saw fidgeting and a fight of moral vs occupation as the interviewer's hands reached and retracted away from his camera, "Tell you what, help me for a second and I'll give you something your company something to smile about, probably even a raise."

He hopped off the wing before responding and you did the same except that you had a fist on your hip.

"Depends on the favor." The brain suddenly sounded an alarm, RED FLAG! RED FLAG! RED FLAG! it kept repeating as the whole idea seemed stupid now. But it was do or die time, and you might die of embarrassment if you didn't go through with the whole idea now.

"Ever had your tail be followed by guided missiles while you're just in a modified warbird? Not fun. I have to do that ten times a day minimum, you can see why a girl could use a break." You confess; suddenly there was a bulge at the young man's pants. He's interested it seems, but you kept on going, "It's been a while since I've been with someone to be honest, and the job has a day and night shift at once so alone times are..."

"Sounds harsh, what do you need me to do first?" You couldn't help but smile, so you turned your back on him and walked towards the folding chairs, sat on it, and raised your legs to the sky in a V-formation. The interviewer dropped his camera on the floor and rushed to your aid, kneeling there was an initial penetration of the vagina with the use of two fingers. You could feel how tight it was, how long has it been? Whatever the case you bit your lip and felt a moist sensation down your nethers, you weren't wet yet but the lad was already using his tongue to soak up the dry area around your clitoris while the advance inside was becoming interesting.

There was a gesture; as if somebody was using their index finger to beckon unto somebody, and that was exactly what the interviewer was doing, all the while he tried his best moistening your womanhood. Soft moans escaped the lips and an instinct entered the subconscious before a hand began reaching downwards to the nethers; another finger entered the vagina though this one belonged to the owner.

Tender now was your sex thanks to the washing off of pent up stress over your occupation and it was more accepting of any foreign entities. The interviewer stopped in his endeavors as a metal thud echoed throughout the hangar, looking down at him, you saw an elongated penis that looked like it could be a little stiffer, it was long, impressively long and its thickness resembled like a thin plastic bottle. Not that you mind though, and it's not like you've handled bigger pieces of specimen before.

There was a soft feeling back down between the clitoris as the interviewer lets you feel the tip of his cock, sliding up and down the entrance to the vagina teasing before there was a small push, and the mushroom-shaped was inside. The girt was obviously the second to welcome itself in slowly but surely, you felt your tight insides expand to make room for the specimen of grand proportions while another moan escaped your lips but it didn't matter to you.

The thick penis made it halfway through before the interviewer retracted only to slide more of his girt inside, he repeated this, each time building momentum from the oral session a while ago until eventually the sound of flesh slapping each other resonated all over the entire hangar before it was accompanied with wails of pleasure and grunting. Ecstasy flowed in your blood and the pace of your masturbation was heightened as it coincided with the entering of the interviewer's rod.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, nggghhh!" You uttered before there was some lag between each advance and pounding of the vagina as the interviewer pulled out much to your dismay, "Come on! Don't tell me you're done, it was getting to the good part."

"I doubt you're in some form of birth control right now and cumming inside you sound like the worst thing I can do." Empathy was felt and you were glad he thought of such a thing. To reward him, you knelt from the chair and opened your mouth, he knew what to do.

Immediately afterward, the interviewer slid his manhood smoothly over your tongue before your mouth closed in on it. The shape of the instrument was molded all over your lips as your tongue inspected it top to bottom, skimming through the details and glossing the object with your own saliva. The taste of your own juices was covered all-over the beast and though it was expected, it was a nice surprise. You pushed yourself down for the interviewer and quickly the head of the cock was at your throat, and yet it was warmly welcomed as it advanced half-way through with the girt being pushed through.

When the need for air overcame the feeling of desire, the plump penis was quickly withdrawn and as you take in a few coughs as well as a few pockets of oxygen inside you, before the process was repeated but with additional rapid bobbing of the head and less time deepthroating him though there was assistance from him from time-to-time, with him choosing when and how deep you were supposed to go and no matter how far it was, there was always an improvement from the last push. As your lungs began to tire and your breathing became heavier, the interviewer stopped and gave the two of you some time to take deep breaths.

Still on the floor of the hangar, both your hands were planted on it before they were used to maneuver yourself to face him backwards. Still breathing heavily, you had one comment.

"Whenever you're ready." As you felt two hands grab your ass, you knew that he was ready. First, there was the feeling of a moist tip tracing the outlines of your asshole and one that slid up and down before it was used as a spearhead with the girt following through the penetration. You could feel the wet instrument inside you, softening every trace of resistance along the way until the interviewer had bumped his crotch to your ass which sent your body forward.

As tedious as it seemed it was worth it, the rate of which he pounded was moderate but momentum soon caught up with the two of you. The rhythm felt like a four-stroke engine with you being launched forward with a penis inside you, all you could do was moan and shout but it all felt wonderful. In a state of bliss and ecstasy, a hand was found detaching itself away from the ground to unzip the leather jacket and to lift the tanktop off your chest until it was above your breast. As for the breast themselves, they were quickly groped with the troublemaking hand being the offender as it squeezed one of your cups and its nipple.

Feeling the rod deep inside you, whatever noise the two of you made were almost animalistic if it weren't for the words, phrases, and sentences being uttered during sessions of grunting and moaning. As there was the sound of flesh making contact with each other, there were times a smack was heard before it was accompanied by a long wail. Then there was a sudden feeling of being off-balance, followed by a lifting of a leg and falling unto the floor, not that it mattered though as the stiff penis was being cycled in both your vagina and your anus whenever the interview withdrew too far.

The new position welcomed the option to relieve yourself as well, as muscles ached and the legs could no longer be used without pain, it gave the arms a chance to reach the crotch and to play with your own vagina before or while it was being penetrated while your breasts were either being cupped by the hands of the interviewer or your very own, repaying him with a taste of your wet sex every now and again as well as treating yourself. Climaxing multiple times already, the floors were soaked with juices and lubricating the cock of your partner even further which granted more momentum and a harder return.

It was his turn, as both of you felt the throbbing of his rod the interviewer quickly pulled out and left you on the ground to rest. Masturbating furiously in front of you, the first thick length of rope shot out of the eye before the other and the other, landing all over your chest, your pelvis, your breast, and your face, it was a charitable well-hung fountain. The interviewer was gasping once more, holding his knees and taking in deep breaths.

For half a minute you rested there until the feeling of the exercised joints cooled down. Looking down at yourself, you were a mess, a beautiful mess if there was such a thing.

It was perfect for a cover.

With the both of you standing up with a bit of strength managing locomotion, a few words weren't needed as you pointed towards the Whispered **** and gestured the action of taking a picture, the interviewer nodded and the two of you walked to the fighter plane. Your breasts were resting on a wing with your arms hiding your nipples, but with your white tank-top being soaked, patches of skin were exposed leaving not much to the imagination. The camera emitted snapping sounds, handled by the still naked interviewer before he gave the two of you a thumbs up.

Walking up to him, a kiss on the cheek was given before you grabbed hold of his stiff penis and stroked it slowly.

"That was fun, tell you what. Tell your magazine that I'm up for another interview, but only IF you were the one doing it alright?"

And he nodded.