That evening, we gave our report with Robby speaking for the Duck's route. Poppa Jack spoke for the Mallard's route. They were disappointed. The island was the home to very few people gathered in small agricultural groups. We would fly to England tomorrow.We got out the maps to make more detailed plans. We knew that we wanted to land in London's Heathrow. We also would buzz by Birmingham. The question I had was the true southern part of England. Well-known airports were few in the southern and western areas. We would perform flyovers but would only land at Heathrow. I reminded everyone that we had a lot of ground to cover and we hadn't spent any time on the continent yet. We would fly over all of the area in formation but widely separated. Andy, Charlie, and the Trio wanted everyone's attention. I looked at them and said, "Okay, one of you speak. You have something to say obviously."They smiled and SJ stood. That worried me. SJ was mature well beyond her years and had a golden. She avoided my grab by trying to stuff them into her shirt. My fingers dived into the chasm of her cleavage, brushing the firm inner slopes of twenty-two year old flesh. As I snagged a corner of the fabric, my hand cupped Rachel’s left breast. I squeezed, gently for now. She placed her hand over mine, seemingly urging me to squeeze harder. I complied, though I knew her hidden plan was to distract me from the real prize of the panties. I retaliated by curling my fingers under and around her luscious orb, closing on the erect nipple. As I increased the pressure on the roundness filling my palm, my thumb and forefinger pinched the nub without warning. Rachel yelped, ‘Hey that hurt.’ I snatched the panties back and shoved them down the front of my pants. Rachel leaned over, laughing, trying to grab them back. Her efforts soon turned to tickling, and I was squirming in my seat. To avoid her retrieving the prize, I undid my zipper and pulled them further into my pants. As I hoped, Rachel.
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