((This is a VERY OLD story that I wrote 21 years ago. I decided to dig it up from alt.sex.stories.moderated. It's a bit too vanilla - I wouldn't write it like this now. But it's still a nice little story I think.))
With the engine on low power, it was suddenly quiet in the plane's cockpit. Sarah was aware of the faint rush of wind over the wings and canopy as she lightly held the Katana's stick, letting the little aircraft gently descend towards the ever-larger runway threshold. How slowly she seemed to be moving! It felt as if there was all the time in the world to glide these last few hundred feet.
Sarah read off her final checks aloud. "Carb heat - off; runway - clear; approach - satisfactory." She shot an inquiring glance to the plane's right-hand seat where Rick smiled and nodded in response. She felt a familiar shiver go down her spine. He was so cute when he smiled. She would do anything for that smile.
So it was time to land. This time, she was determined that it would be perfect. There would be no bounce because she landed too fast; there would be no drop because she flared too high. This time, she would make Rick proud of her. She had flown a perfect pattern, and made a perfect approach, and now she was determined to land with the softness of a sigh.
Sarah took a deep breath as the threshold filled her view, forcing herself to relax. Not time to pull back yet. Wait.. wait.. now gently rounding out, flying along only a few feet above the runway. Cut the power. Fly level, keep flying level. "Don't be in a hurry to get the wheels down" Rick always said, "The plane will land itself eventually." Pull the nose back, further, and further.. feel the mainwheels touch the ground - keep the nose back. Keep the plane straight as it loses speed and the nosewheel slowly descends. She had landed! And it felt like a good one! Set flaps for takeoff, select full power, ready to go again...
"Sarah, abort your takeoff and come off at bravo. Park up and shut down. We need to talk about that landing."
Sarah's heart sank. She nodded and carefully complied, trying not to show that she was fighting tears of frustration and hurt. What had she missed this time? What could she have done wrong? There was always something. Somehow she never seemed to be able to get it just right. Maybe flying, and all her dreams, just wasn't for her.
Rick waited for her to complete the shutdown, and then they were silent, alone in the cramped cockpit.
"So, do you know what I'm going to say?" Rick asked, his face neutral.
Sarah shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Rick looked into her eyes for a moment, and his expression softened.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm just frustrated. How many landings have I done now? fifty? a hundred? And I still can't seem to get them right. And OK, normally I know what I did wrong. But this time, I really thought I had it right. I fucking thought I'd done it right."
She tailed off as she realised Rick had broken into a smile.
"You know what? You did do it right."
"I.."
"You did it pretty much perfectly. I would say that was a commercial-standard landing. And for a new pilot with what, uh, twenty hours of flying? I think that's a pretty amazing achievement."
Sarah found herself blushing. She wiped away the tear that had been forming at the corner of her eye.
"Furthermore, I'd say every landing you did today and last time have been of an adequate standard. You know, for training new pilots, we say any landing you can walk away from is a good one. Any landing you can use the plane again after is a great landing! So all yours have been great, right?"
Sarah nodded and gave a half-hearted giggle. She had heard that corny old line from Rick before. But still, she was pleased. He thought she was doing OK. She wondered if he knew how much she longed for his approval.
"And the reason I asked you to stop and park up here is because I want to get out."
* * * * *
Rick Allan loved his job. For as long as he could remember, he'd wanted to fly. As a youngster he'd spent his summers with his face pressed up against the airport fence, watching the aircraft come and go. Then later, doing odd jobs for the airport manager, cleaning, mowing grass, anything in return for a few bucks and, eventually, occasionally, wonderfully, a short flight in a Cessna or Piper. He'd worked at the same airport to pay his way through flight school, fueling up business jets in midwinter blizzards, until eventually emerging as a newly qualified commercial pilot.
Eventually, of course, he wanted to fly for an airline. But the airlines wanted experienced pilots. So Rick spent the last of his savings on obtaining an instructors rating, and now found himself, aged twenty-five, teaching basic flying skills to brand-new pilots. In a year or two he'd have enough hours logged to be taken seriously by an airline recruiter. For now he was content to be living simply, flying whenever the weather would allow, and meeting new people.
All kinds of people want to learn to fly; teenagers still in high school with rich parents; would-be career pilots much like himself a few years ago; middle-aged women with the kids gone wanting to expand their horizons; newly retired folks enjoying their leisure time. Some were difficult to get on with; most were pleasant and keen.
And then there was Sarah.
He watched as she sped the Katana up the runway and executed a near-perfect takeoff. She was certainly talented, there was no doubt about that. She would be an excellent pilot.
When Sarah had first walked into the flight school, Rick was captivated. She was a friendly and enthusiastic twenty-two year old with flowing brown hair, soft brown eyes, a pretty face and a fit body. Rick's life, filled with work and study, had left him with only limited experience of the opposite sex, but he was immediately attracted to her, and was secretly pleased when she was scheduled to fly with him.
Rick's eyes followed the Katana as it tracked round the pattern. Her turns were well judged and accurate. He smiled as he thought of how excited she would be when she landed.
Rick remembered how her beauty had touched him when they walked to the plane for her first ever flying lesson. She had been a little shy and apprehensive, but had smiled bravely as he showed her how to climb into the aircraft. His fingers had trembled a little and his voice was unsteady as he leant over to fasten her four-point harness, pulling the straps tight over her apple-sized breasts. He felt the warm hardness of her midriff through her clothing as he fastened the clip over her stomach. There had been complete trust in her eyes.
Sarah was on her final approach to land now. She had good speed and was correctly lined up. He wondered if he would risk hugging her when she landed.
They had talked, on that first lesson, as much about themselves as about flying. Yes, she wanted to have a career in flying - she'd inherited enough money to pay for her lessons. She'd never had a lesson before. Her father had been a military pilot, but he was dead many years before. Later, he found out, no, she didn't have a boyfriend.
Rick didn't know entirely what you were supposed to do, as a flying instructor, when you fell in love with a student. Was it ethical to date them? They didn't cover that in his instructor's ground school. They were both adults, so he supposed it would be OK... but that was just fantasy. He knew he would never ask her out. What if she rejected him? But still, every time their hands met on the throttle, a thrill of electricity went through him, and he wanted to prolong the moment. And she was in his dreams.
The little Katana floated along the runway in the last stage of landing.
