That’s when I exhaled the breath I’d been holding.He saw that. Grinned. “Not bad. Not bad at all. Let’s go back around.”Next time around - �...�Short field?”“No, he said. “You made your point. Show me a slip to the centerline.”He’s a good instructor. He explained how side-slips can serve well for cross-wind landings as well as a good way to bleed off altitude without using flaps. “Every airplane doesn’t HAVE flaps,” he explained.I hadn’t noticed until I saw that old Stearman biplane. No flaps. Of. Even my soiled wet shorts were wedged up between my puffy labia’ s. Creating little pussy spasms with each step that I tried to take. It took me awhile to make it up the stairs to the shower. The cool water would feel so good against my skin. Undressing I stick my wet shorts in the clothes hamper. Right there is the panties that had been sitting on the table that my mom had worn during the making of her film. Lifting them up with a shaking hand I could feel the wetness in the crotch. More

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