A Place in History


“Oh God, Meeley, you’re so goddamn tight!” He grunted, pushing into her hot, wet hole.

“Be quiet, George,” she said in an urgent voice. “Just keep going!”

His grunting annoyed her, but the act felt so good. Sometimes she just needed a man inside her, holding her down, thrusting like a machine, and making her submit. Sometimes she really needed to be the weaker sex.

It wasn’t often that she let him take control. When she did, it was one of the rare times when he felt like he had tamed her. He knew better, even before they married she made it perfectly clear; this was not a traditional marriage. It was not a woman following her man blindly through life. It was a partnership, very much like his business partnerships, and despite the note she sent him, George had always been faithful.

‘I want you to understand I shall not hold you to any medieval code of faithfulness to me nor shall I consider myself bound to you similarly.’

Now, the thought of another man with his wife spurred him on. Unexpectedly, he grabbed her slender legs, throwing them over his shoulders. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed his arms, using his strength to pull herself up, meeting his thrusts. She could tell he was ready, feeling his arms start to quiver and grunts turning into growls. She felt herself almost drowning in pleasure from the waves of orgasm sweeping over her body. George pulled her closer and pushed with all his might, filling her with his seed.

He was always surprised that she allowed him to hold her afterward, for a brief moment of tenderness. He spooned her lithe body, running his hands through her chestnut curls.

“Oh Meeley,” he said, kissing the back of her neck. “I love you. “

Amelia turned over and rolled into his arms. “You know I’m so glad we moved to Toluca and I’m thrilled with how successful the school has become. Paul Mantz is probably the best partner and best teacher we could have. I think it’s important to have someone who is supportive of women wanting to become pilots.”

“Paul is great, if not a little cocky. I just like that you’ve stayed around for a while instead of flying across some ocean again.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” she began. “I’ve been speaking with the head of the department at the university. He told me there’s some interest in them financing this idea I had.”

“Wait,” George exclaimed, sitting straight up in bed. “What idea? Who wants to finance what? Purdue?

“Simmer down, George. You know I’ve been thinking of one more trip. Something no one would expect from me. Purdue may be on board to help acquire the plane,” Amelia told him.

George hugged her to him. “One last flight? I mean one last major event? Do you promise?”

Pulling back a little, a serious look came over her face. “Don’t try to shackle me George. I will not be caged like an animal.”

“Meely, my love, I get afraid for you. All right, maybe a little jealous too. I can’t compete with flying, but I’d really like us to fly away; a trip for just the two of us. Please give it some consideration. I would like us to go to some out of the way place where most people wouldn’t want to go. I want to explore with you.”

Amelia was not unfeeling and really did adore her husband. “That should be grand, G.P., a trip for just the two of us when I get back.”

For more than a year the former publisher took charge of raising money and promoting his wife’s flight as the first pilot to fly around the work at the equator. Amelia worked closely with Captain Harry Manning, Fred Noonan and Paul Mantz. Manning, a former pilot for President Roosevelt, would become Amelia’s first navigator, Noonan would be the second. Mantz, a former Hollywood pilot, and good friend, was brought on as the technical advisor.

While George traveled the country selling the idea of his wife being the first (let alone the first woman) to fly around the world taking this route, Amelia was either closeted with her crew, or practicing with Mantz. The group was trying to prevent any mishaps. Oh, but the best-laid plans….

When Amelia and her crew left Oakland, California on March 17, 1937, it almost seemed as if the flight would fail, from the beginning. Flying west, the plane experienced some problems. They stopped in Pearl Harbor and after three days, the Electra plane took off. Something went wrong, but who knows for sure? Some observers say a tire blew. Paul implied it was pilot error. The plane’s wing apparently clipped the ground. Earhart cut an engine off to maintain balance, and then looped the plane causing its landing gear to collapse. Either way, the plane was shipped back to California for further repair.

After more months of fund raising by George and endless public appearances by Amelia, a new plan was in place. It was different weather, different wind and less crew. Captain Harry had been committed elsewhere and Paul Mantz would not be joining either, although the reason was never clear. Fred and Amelia would fly east to glory.

The night before she was to leave, Amelia arranged for dinner in the garden of their Toluca Lake home. After the small staff was sent home, she took the time to soak in a hot tub and relax. While she fluffed her short curls in the evening breeze, her mind started to wander to the plane and its checklist. No, she thought. Not tonight. She was just about ready when she heard George come home.

“Oh m…my,” George stuttered, his breath catching in his throat at the site of his wife. The last thing he expected was to see Amelia in a soft yellow button-down dress and bare feet. “You look lovely, Meely.”

She quietly walked over to his chair, bent over, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Dinner’s in the garden tonight, G.P. It will be the last one we share for a long time. Come, put your paperwork away and let’s go outside.”

Hand in hand the couple walked through the open doors to the patio. The palm trees rustle overhead and you could hear the faint sound of bees buzzing around the flowers, searching for nectar. It was a simple table, a few roses in a vase, one glass of wine each, and two chairs placed side by side. Their conversation was sparse, as though they weren’t quite sure what to say to the other. Was this good-bye so different than the others? Amelia thought it was.

“George,” she said, placing her hand on his. “I just want you to know how much I appreciate the hard work and sacrifice you’ve made for me. We both know that without you, the plane literally would not get off the ground. You are the unsung hero in most of my adventures.”

“Meely, my love, you’ve given me an excitement that I never dreamed existed. You’ve been my partner in business and in the bedroom. You are everything I ever dreamed of and I look forward to the end of this trip, and our reunion.”

Amelia slid her chair back and went to him, gently sitting down on his lap. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, while nestling into his lap. George’s manhood began to stand at attention, her movements inviting his hands to run down her body. She felt him inhale then hold his breath in the middle of their kiss.

“Meely,” George said into her mouth. “You have nothing on under your dress.”

Amelia stood up and lifted her skirt. “Is that really necessary?”

She dropped her dress, leaned over and started pulling at George’s belt. His hips moved forward in the chair as he allowed her to free his throbbing member. When her slender fingers wrapped around him, his head went back and his eyes closed. Tonight, she was the navigator and the pilot.

Satisfied that he was ready, Amelia lifted the skirt of her dress to her waist, straddled his lap, and slowly lowered herself, her body swallowing him. She never tired of exploring her sexuality, smiling at the thought of how her puritanical mother would react if she even dreamed her daughter acted like a harlot. George gripped her hips and pushed himself deeper into her body.

The night stars were the only witnesses to the erotic scene. Conversation ceased and the lovers concentrated on their pleasure. George’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on Amelia’s dress, but when it finally opened, he was able to suckle to his heart’s content. The excitement was almost more than he could take, and when he exploded George’s growl cut through the silence of the night like a hot knife through butter. Sweeping her up into his arms, they left the remains of their dinner in the garden and continued their evening behind the bedroom door.

On the first day of June, Amelia and Fred Noonan quietly took off from Miami. The flights were textbook perfect; south toward Central and South America, then east to Africa. After crossing the Indian Ocean, they landed in Lae, New Guinea on June 29, 1937. Amelia’s hopes for immediately completing the last seven thousand miles, the longest of the entire trip, were dashed. She came down with dysentery and was ill for several days. Fred spent the time going over maps and working on fuel projections, in between visiting with Amelia in the Infirmary.

“You’re too good to me, Fred,” she told him. “Your new bride would be jealous. Don’t you dare get sick too.”

Fred leaned closer, his blue eyes looking intently into her gray ones. There was the very slightest aroma of whiskey on his breath. “You make it easy to be good to you.”

Amelia weakly reached up and tussled his auburn hair. “So early in the morning, Fred?”

“Aw, come on Amelia,” he said, giving her that innocent little boy look. “You know I’m here on my own without anyone to play with. Don’t be cross with me.”

“Well hopefully, you’ve spent your time planning the last leg of the flight. Will my being sick make any drastic change to our original plans?”

“Not really. I just want to error on the side of caution and make sure we have enough fuel. It should be pretty uneventful.”

“So what’s been done? I hope to be able to travel in a couple of days.”

Fred told her of his plans. “The way I look at it, there are things we really don’t need that can make room for more fuel. Do we really need parachutes over the ocean? Not really. It’s more than sufficient that we have the inflatable rafts. I also don’t think we need all of the radio equipment. We can get by with a portion of it.”

Amelia nodded in agreement. “Do we have plans finalized with the Coast Guard?”

“Absolutely! Their ship, the Itasca, will stay off Howland Island. If we need it, they can send a smoke signal. We’ll check the plane, refuel and then be on our way to Hawaii. At the end of the trip, we can dump empty fuel tanks to help preserve what we have. Everything is ideal.”

Conditions were not ideal, however. After arriving at the airfield early that morning, some maintenance and the pre-flight check, the Electra was pronounced ready. Even though the weather looked manageable, Fred knew the westbound headwinds would affect their ground speed and force them to stay in the air longer than originally planned.

Amelia guided the aircraft down the runway, confident they had done everything they could. She had more than enough fuel for the eighteen hour flight, adding an additional four hours’ worth.

“Why does this feel a bad idea?” Fred mumbled. “How can I navigate with this cloud cover?”

“Fred, we’ll be okay as long as we make an adjustment to avoid the thunderstorms. Didn’t you say I could turn back northeast at Choiseul and get back on the original route? We’ll fly around the bad weather and I’ll radio the ship tomorrow morning. Now take a break; I’m good."

The Electra followed the path Fred planned, to bring them to Nukumanu Island. Amelia radioed to advise their position, which should have been near the island. The weather was good, the headwinds were as expected.

More than seventeen hours in the air and the rest of the flight seemed to be picture perfect. Fred figured their position to be within a few hundred miles of Howland Island. Their excitement level rose. It was going to happen – it was really going to happen. No one would ever forget the name Amelia Earhart.

After being awake for twenty-four hours Amelia reported she was within one hundred miles, looking for land. At sunrise they searched for the ship or Howland and saw nothing.

“Fred, why can’t they hear me?” Amelia asked, concern rising in her voice.

“We don’t know that they can’t. Could be we’re not receiving,” he told her, while his eyes scanned the horizon.

Amelia circled for a few minutes while Fred worked on a new plan. After an hour, they had realized that more than half of the fuel was gone. She continued sending radio reports but still had trouble communicating with the Itasca. The ship was also unable to obtain the Electra’s location.

Fuel tanks running dry, the pair faced the horrible reality of having to attempt to safely put down at sea, abandon the plane and wait in their life rafts for rescue. As the left engine quit, continuing with the flight plan was impossible. Amelia’s sole concentration was setting the Electra down without it tearing apart.

After preparing the rafts with the few supplies they had left, Fred strapped himself into the seat next to Amelia. Her knuckles were white while she gripped the yoke, trying to keep the plane steady. When he put his hand on hers, she gave him a look that resembled a frightened animal.

“We’ll do this, don’t worry,” Fred told her, taking hold of the other yoke.

Suddenly the right engine sputtered and there was silence. With no power to the plane at all, they continued their descent toward the blue ocean. Amelia quickly wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she whispered.

“I know.”

The Electra was not a sea plane and no matter how good the pilot, it would not be a gentle landing. Faster and faster they cut through the air.

“Pull up, pull up!”

The sound was almost deafening. Metal being ripped apart, both man and woman screamed, wondering if they would ever stop moving. When they did, they would have only minutes to get their rafts out of the plane and away from the wreckage. Breaking glass, water coming in, Fred and Amelia scrambled to get out of the plane.

One of the rafts snagged on the ripped metal, causing a huge tear. With the second raft out of the plane, they helped each other get in and then paddle away from the sinking wreckage.

Amelia lay panting with her eyes closed, when she began to shake uncontrollably. Fred immediately reached out to her, pulling her close and holding her in his arms while she wept.

“Shhhh, it’ll be okay. They’ll find us; don’t worry,” he assured her, but didn’t believe it himself.

She grew quiet and so did he. The adrenalin left their bodies as they lay in the bottom of the raft, exhausted from the horrible experience. The small object floated and bobbed in the wide expanse of blue.

 

Amelia Earhart definitely deserves her place in history. This is a great story. I liked all the detail, the three main characters, especially Amelia (obviously), and the way the text stuck to history and also allowed the author to include sex and what might have happened on that famous disappearance. Well-crafted tale of a true heroine.

 

Wow.

Skimmed through all the entries and picked this one to read carefully first, since it's short and was at the bottom of the page. When I read it the second time I realized how truly short it is. The fact that I didn't notice the first time says a lot.

Basing this entry on an historical figure known for her daring allowed the writer to create a little tale full of history without spending much time on either that or character development. Most readers probably already knew enough background to understand this story. The writer gave us sex, actions, and emotion. Although technically this entry has no ending, there was no need to write one. The ensuing years did that.

Nice little gem.

 

The good: A dynamic look at the final hours of a truly amazing woman. Well written and gripping.

The bad: A couple of minor typos. I will point out one. This one distracted me and I lost my pace in the reading. It gave me visions of a woman flying around the office.

This one distracted me and I lost my pace in the reading. It gave me visions of a woman flying around the office.

The ugly: I felt the story fell a little short in the story department. It needed something to punch it up a bit. A longer listing of the voyage; noting the wear and tear on the adventurers.

 

The history in this contest knows no bounds. Again I am taken" up close and personal" back in time to an event in history that almost everyone remembers. With each passing contest the writers seem to out due each other. My short list for this vote has quite a few members and it will be really hard to narrow it down to just three.

 

I'm just glad we have three votes.

 

This entry is high on my short list.

 

A place in history she has as a pioneer amongst women and in aviation, in general. I like that this story brought the character who we knew as a missing pilot and made her a real flesh and blood, feeling woman. Short in length but as I commented on other short entries, a very good thing.

 

Amelia Earheart. What a great choice! A strong, capable, independent woman, at a time that that was not so common place. Of course I'm going to want to read about her! There is great sex too??? Recipe for a great story, and it did not fail. Well done!

Yet another winner among the many I have read. Sure glad I don't have to vote here!

 

Another good choice for a person to write about. On a side note, this was a good CAW theme. Okay, the story was good, it was a little short I felt as the author could have ratcheted up the tension more, but overall it's a nice story. As for the writing, there was one thing that either I misunderstood or maybe could have been worded better:

Amelia circled for a few minutes while Fred worked on a new plan. After an hour, they had realized that more than half of the fuel was gone. She continued sending radio reports but still had trouble communicating with the Itasca. The ship was also unable to obtain the Electra’s location.

Fuel tanks running dry, the pair faced the horrible reality of having to attempt to safely put down at sea, abandon the plane and wait in their life rafts for rescue.​

Wasn't much of a transition there I thought from more than half gone to running dry.

Anyway, the overall appeal of someone like Ms. Earhart is not to be discounted. There was a folksy feel to the story that made it a compelling read, despite prior knowledge of how it ended. I too thought it a little abrupt at the end, perhaps a little more tugging at the heartstrings would have added vs. taken away, but that's minor. Good read.

 

Nice short story, but as ahorsewithnoname pointed out, it needed more dramatic tension. Maybe my problem is that I knew how the story ends as soon as I discovered who the characters were.

 

I really like this. There's some hot sex, and it is all the better for the fact that the reader really gets the sense of how 'naughty' such sex would have been in that era, when a strong, independent and sexually active woman would've been quite shocking. There is plenty enough scene-setting so that one can picture the events almost like watching an old black and white movie, it sets the piece right into the period.

Maybe it is a little too short - but that is a compliment to the author; this is such a good writing that it deserves to be drawn out some more but, as I have pointed out before, when one is writing to a deadline sacrifices sometimes have to be made.

 

Amelia Earhart has alwys been a bit of a mystery. She was courageous, competent and forward thinking, but for all her fine qualities she has always been more of a historical figure than a real person to me. Your story was a very believable and entertaining portrait of a woman who became much more real to me because of it. I liked seeing a tender and sexual relationship between Amelia and her husband, though she stated in letters to him that she would hold him, nor should he hold her to any "Medeival" notions of faithfulness. Since what really happened to Ms. Earhart and her flying partner remains a mystery, the ending seemed entirely believable.

 

Whoops. Bumped twice I guess.

 

I had read this one first of all, and I had never responded!



Time enough for love.

(The title of a wonderful epic novel by Robert Heinlein.)

I have a soft spot for stories involving strong women. But they raise the conundrum: time enough for love? Can we assume so? Will love, life, and living hold themselves in abeyance long enough for us to finish our bucket lists?

Poor Amelia surely believed so, as do we all. Regrettably time ran out for her. Carpe diem, "Seize the day," has a double-edged significance for women. The great ones, all too often, do achieve much. Yet they live poorly. Or not long enough. Or both.

Wonderful story.

 

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