Aeronca C-3

tagGroup SexAeronca C-3

Written as a 1000 word short story contest entry, all of the participants were 58 years of age or older at the time the events depicted took place.
A 'Mile High Club' story reject.
In the beginning general aviation was homebuilt aircraft and more popularly bargain basement priced World War One military surplus. As the availability of surplus dried up a new age dawned with minimalistic designs seeking to optimize efficiency in order to drive costs down. The most successful of these designs was C.G. Taylor's Cub design of 1930, but there were others.
Areronca (the Aeronautical Company of America) built 164 of Jean Roche's single seat C-2s and 454 two seat C-3s between 1930 and 1935. Clearly influenced by Alberto Santos-Dumont's bamboo framed Demoiselle (maiden), it was an intermediate step between an open cockpit parasol design and the later high wing cabin airplane. In fact, the Demoiselle very much resembles some of today's ultralights. An enduring concept, it was further developed by Jean Lepage into Le Pelican, and 700 more were made in Quebec through the 1980s.
For $1200 a private pilot could buy a brand new, Department of Commerce certified, factory made, personal airplane. Albeit one with a 36 hp two cylinder powerplant, plywood bench seat, oddly duplicated rudder pedals, and a two-position off-set control stick. It wasn't dual control – the pilot sat in the middle if she was alone and on the left if she had a passenger. They didn't have an actual instrument panel, instead three widely dispersed engine gauges and an altimeter were tucked under the padded cockpit opening, a pressure gauge on the left jury strut indicating airspeed.
Somebody told Paul and George about a C-3 that had been sitting forlorn behind a rancher's barn for the last 30 or 40 years, so of course they just had to go out and see it. The aircraft's covering, which was doped canvas, varied in condition from shredded to non-existent. Its wooden wings, exposed to the weather, were ruined although still held in place by the many rigging wires. The steel tube fuselage, including a locally-made leather covered padded bench seat, had fared a little better.
The engine was missing, having been sent out for a repair that was never completed, but the ship wasn't vandalized. If one looked around in the grass near where it was parked all the pieces that had fallen off over the years seemed to be there. It had its builder's plate, and the owner's grandson had all the paperwork. George and Paul had to devise a support for the wings as the rigging was removed, and it cost far more to have it trucked home to our hangar than it cost to buy it, but we owned a piece of history.
it wasn't a silly or impulsive purchase, we're running a little school where Paul and George are teaching motivated students the skills necessary for them to obtain FAA Airframe and Powerplant licenses. Although they no longer build complete aircraft for retail sale, Aeronca is still in business making aircraft parts in Ohio. The guys obtained a complete set of plans and a manual. This basket case would make an excellent teaching tool.
Last Wednesday
We live in the Caribbean, which is sort of like paradise with the occasional category four hurricane. Since we had to leave the United States for legal reasons – we got old which is apparently a crime – why not move to paradise. Over time a great many of our friends and family have moved to this small town as well.
Lisa woke with the rising sun streaming in through the windows and gently woke Jamie by playing with her pussy, rolling the labia, teasing the glands just inside her opening and her hooded "lady" until a climax arrived. Once awake, George's turgid penis took the place of Lisa's fingers. Paul wandered in from the bathroom and Jamie wordlessly invited him by opening her mouth. Soon he was in her throat and she was a happy spit-roast.
Lisa played with Jamie's nipple rings until the boys had both come inside her, and then helped her to her feet. She was a little wobbly after four or five orgasms. Still naked, our everyday dress-code at home, we wandered into the kitchen following the scent of Guatemalan highland coffee being brewed. Each of us grabbed a mug and took one of the delicious breakfast cakes Kristin had warmed up. We stood at the bar eating since our chef was lying sprawled across the sturdy kitchen table.
Eva had one arm under Kristin's ass and her other hand inside of her as Lillian straddled her face, one knee on either side of her head. We drank our coffee as we watched Eva being transformed into a flesh puppet, blathering nonsense like 'The Swedish Chef' on Sesame Street when she wasn't being smothered in pussy. Then we had more cake.
It was a work day so the boys showered and got dressed first to walk to the hangar and get everything set up for class. Lillian and Lisa got cleaned up next and went to the old hotel our students stay at, making sure they were all dressed appropriately. They would be practicing their welding skills and needed long pants and sleeves despite the temperature.
It was a beautiful day, sunny with a light breeze off the lake. With the big hangar doors open it was like being outside with a roof over your head. Later, everyone shared a lunch on the picnic tables outside under a tree. Kristin and Lisa had made chuchitos con pescado – a sort of tamale made with fish – for us. We drank a near beer called malta.
In the afternoon after classes were over, we relaxed, sitting in our whimsically painted heavy wooden chairs on the big rocks under a stand of trees enjoying the spray from the waves at the lake shore. Lisa sat in George's lap, as he played with her nipple rings and studs. As he lovingly buggered her, the smooth steel balls at each end of his apadravya were very deeply stimulating her – twice per stroke – while everyone enjoyed a real beer together before dinner.

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