She reached to her left for another carrot. I walked over to her and touched her shoulder. She jumped and screamed.“Don’t do that.” Elena yelled...“Don’t do what? Place my hand on your shoulder? I thought you liked that.” I said acting as if I hadn’t seen anything last night.She was breathing heavily and when she answered she couldn’t look me in the eyes, “I do. But I don’t want people sneaking up on me, especially when I’m preparing food. What would have happened if...” she paused for a second.. Evidently the raid was over. Thirty minutes later, low on fuel, she carefully landed, taxied to the storage area, swung about and got out of her plane, slid down the wing and hurried away.By the time the bell rang for the evening meal, the story was widespread and everyone was talking about how some female had hijacked a Spitfire.That night in the arms of her young lover, a flight lieutenant from a very wealthy Canadian family, she cuddled and purred, highly satisfied, the man’s limp prick in. More

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