1. The Last Flight


    Date: 12/23/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Annamagique, Rating: 18, Source: LushStories

    “Good morning, Karen.” I turned and saw the suave middle aged pilot approaching me, along with his co-pilot, strolling nonchalantly across the departure lounge. “Ah, good morning Captain Anderson,” I replied, flashing him my sweetest smile. “A beautiful morning.” “Yes, it is indeed,” he agreed. “Should be a good flight.” I had been a stewardess for six years and I loved every minute of it. Having been drafted to work in munitions factories throughout the war years it was like a new life. I was able to travel, and in style. I didn't get paid a great deal but at twenty-nine years old, single and carefree, it didn't matter. I was free! I had almost been refused the position at my interview. I looked okay. Five feet and ten inches tall, slim and not too bad looking I thought. Short dark, wavy hair, high cheek bones accentuating my large dark brown eyes but my long slender fingers ended in rather ragged nails and dry skin due to the ravishes of the munitions and chemicals I had spent so long working with. I was given a probationary period with the warning that if my hands didn't improve in that time I was out! I could never forget that first day in training school. I had arrived bright and early, dressed to kill. I had taken hours with my make-up and wore my very best clothes and when I looked in the mirror I was quite satisfied that I could do no more. When the other girls walked in I suddenly began to feel rather dowdy. They were all so beautiful and glamorous. We all greeted ...
    each other and introduced ourselves but little more was said before the door opened once again and in strolled the most beautiful mature woman I had ever seen. She was tall and slim, mid forties I guessed, blonde hair tied neatly behind her head with a bun clearly visible beneath her navy blue and red hat and showing off her flashing crystal blue eyes. The room fell silent as she walked directly to the desk at the front of the room and as she passed all eyes focussed on her immaculate uniform and confident walk. At her desk, she stopped, turned on her heel and faced us, looking for a moment at each one of the ten of us fortunate candidates. “Good morning, Ladies.” She spoke without a single smile, her face blank and professional. “I am Pamela Barnes, the chief stewardess at this training centre.” She paused for a moment whilst, like children at a new school, we recited, “Good morning, Miss Barnes.” “This is not school, ladies. I am married but you may call me Pamela.” Again she paused as she allowed this announcement to sink in. “Now, first, you will introduce yourselves to me. I would like you all to stand in front of your desks and, as I come to each of you, you will hold yourselves erect with your hands outstretched, palms facing downwards.” I looked down at my dry, cracked skin and ragged nails and my heart dropped. I was the third girl that she inspected and I was determined that my hands would not hold me back and, as she stepped in front of me, I straightened my back and ...
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