" What kind of a plane is it, anyway?" It's a... It's an early Vietnam-era F-105 Thunderchief in ground attackconfiguration. A real beauty, judging by...the pictures the seller sent me." Oh, right," Dawn said and yawned. This was going well, I thought. Eventhough Scott had occasionally shown mild interest in vintage militarytechnology, to Dawn it represented--just as we had assumed and hoped--theepitome of boredom. With any luck, Jake's psychologically brilliant movewould quell once and for all. After a moment she called the number. "Seven."He waited for her to unclench her ass, stroking the crack with the tip of thecrop. "You don't want any penalty strokes, do you?" he asked.Reluctantly, she relaxed her buttocks and spread her legs. Michael placed onehand against the small of her back, bracing himself. The next few snappedacross the top of each thigh, the tip just licking the inner curve of herass.? Rachel was writhing, bringing herass up to meet each stroke, calling out the number in. More

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