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“Those old seamen at the hostelry. Full of tales. I asked if they knew of any old airfields I could use.”
“Use for what?”
Rick switched off the engine, turned to face Leah, and took her hand. “Don’t be nervous. In two weeks’ time you get your licence back. You’ve not driven for six months, you need a refresher. The runaways aren’
t part of the public highway; you can drive here without a licence. When you get back on the road in this car, I want you to drive safely, at the correct speed and be able to control this vehicle.”
“Oh,” she said, opening her mouth in a round shape.
“What did you think I was going to do?” he said, cocking his head to one side.
Leah brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Nothing.”
“Let’s get started. Swap seats.”
For the next hour, they drove up and down, turning the sharp corners of the opposing runaways at various speeds. At the start he criticised her gear choices. Leah glared and huffed, until he reminded her to watch her tongue. Then there were exercises in reversing, emergency stops, and parking.
“I did take my driving test!” said Leah. “I passed first time.”
“Hm. Perhaps the examiner was looking more at your legs than the road,” remarked Rick.
He found, lying by the runaway, discarded fuel cans and spaced them down the middle of the tarmac.
“Slalom. Weave in and out without touching,” he instructed.
“This is easy,” she said confidently.
It wasn’t. He had put them quite close together and she struggled to make the turns. Twice she came close to clipping a barrel. He didn’t berate her or lose his temper. He remained calm and made suggestions in a placid voice, helping her improve her clutch control so she didn’t grind the gears.
Leah enjoyed her little lesson, the thrill of being behind the wheel once again in her own car. At first she resented Rick and the implication she was a bad driver, but then she had noticed how rusty she had become with her driving abilities. Her shifts weren’t exactly smooth and her steering jerked. Listening to his soft voice, firm and clear, she quickly improved.
The voice did other things to her. It summoned up her inner emotions, the sexual ones she suppressed during the day, while at work. Those hidden desires crept to the surface, especially when he patted her leg and told her she had done well. Towards the end of the hour, she became cockier, brasher with her ripostes to his comments. He played along; she thought he liked them, understood why she was doing it.
“Handbrake turn. You should teach me,” she said, gripping the lever.
“No,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Ah, go on. What do I do, do I throw the wheel and brake at the same time, or brake first?” She had no idea; she jiggled the wheel. They were approaching one of the sharp turns at the end of the runaway, faster than usual. She’d lost count of the number of circuits the car had made.
“I said no. There is no need for you to know. You’d better start braking,” he said sternly.
“Just for fun. Let me try.”
“Miss Leah, I will spank you if you continue to argue with me.” Rick removed her hand from the lever and put it back on the wheel.
Leah braked and turned the corner slowly, to make a point. She sighed, a long exaggerated sound of disappointment. “Spoilsport.”
“Drive to the hangar. Park up there,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
Leah’s excitement grew. Perhaps they were going to swap back or maybe something else. She glanced to her left, trying to catch Rick’s eye, gauge his intentions, but his face had gone stony.
* * *
Rick tried hard not to laugh. It was sometimes necessary to know when to keep a straight face while driving and not react to his passengers, and his natural reserve helped him hide his amusement. Her attempts to rile him hadn’t worked. He understood exactly what she was trying to do. Her brassy comments, little snarky remarks all pointed to one thing. It wasn’t disobedience; she had done everything he had asked, followed his advice and listened. It was only at the end, her more boisterous nature had come out to play.
Watching her pedal up and down with the rapid gear changes, he admired her shapely legs, the skirt tight about her thighs. Her long dark hair, falling over her shoulders, requiring her to sweep it aside from time to time. Dark eyes, peeping out from under her fringe. Her neat little nose, full lips, and narrow neck, all features that held his attention, kept him captivated by her beauty.
The vast hangar, deserted and neglected, came into view. He would take her in, strip her naked, and find something useful, nothing harsh or unpleasant, then bend her over and admire another part of her body—her lush bottom. He would spank it, caress it, and take pleasure in seeing her squirm, shriek a little and then moan when he felt between her legs. He would give her sublime orgasms for her to cherish.
