Pilot Novels & Stories

"That's good news enough. What did you come with? Leyland or Infantry?" Janet managed to ask Julius. "Copter, and the pilot is spoiling to deck you, Hel." I looked at Janet with a narrowed brow, not understanding what Julius just said. "Who is the pilot?" I and Janet asked in unison and Julius answered. "Yuvonne."

He explained himself more. " It must be great, I can imagine. Being a pilot is being pro. Glamour, money it provides all." Being a pilot was my unaccomplished dream. " You like travelling?" " I love the idea. It's my wildest fantasy, the world tour." I found myself relaxing more in his ambience. The way his eyes glittered when he talked enchanted me. I noticed his body was expressive, his face would carve itself according to the emotions escaping his mouth.

Adrian looked at the pilot, “ Apologise to her” he said nice and clearly. The pilot finally breathed and looked over at Aria, “ I’m sorry ok now let me go” he said angrily. Aria stepped infront of Adrian and looked up at him with a serious look, “ You will be held accountable for what you did, I may be a woman but I am not weak” she said icily. “ I said I’m sorry now let me go” the pilot said unhappily.

VICTOR I shuffled in my seat, feeling my ass go numb after the third hour of not moving. Dea was on that God damned plane alone with no one to protect her. I tried my utmost best to get onto the same flight as her but to no avail. The very next flight which left after her was the one I knew I had to book. "Stop moving, big man. I'm trying to sleep over here," Saint grumbled, peaking an eye open at me.

I type a quick reply, sharing a little bit about my new realization and how I’m thinking about pursuing pilot training. “Hey, just wanted to let you know I’ve been doing some thinking. I’m starting to realize that maybe becoming a flight attendant wasn’t the right fit for me after all. I’ve always been intrigued by flying, but not just as a passenger. I’m looking into pilot training. It feels like a new path that’s calling to me. Besides I’ll look hotter as I pilot, don’t you think.”

‘The, the, P, Pilot, requests that, that, er, all, er, phones are switched off.’ She finally managed to stutter and his lips curled in cruel amusement. ‘Does he now? Well you go back there and tell the Pilot he can go fuck himself. This is my jet and I will do whatever I fucking want on it. Go on, tell him my exact words and then get your tight little ass back here.’

He chooses a sofa, strapping her in first, then himself. “Once we’re in the air we can take these off again.” She nods, holding his hand. The pilot comes out from the cockpit. He’s a short, five foot nothing, muscular wolf-shifter with short stylish black hair and a neat beard. He has a deep tan and wears mirrored aviator sunglasses and a pilot’s uniform. He was maybe seventy, and had worked for his father before him, he was part of the furniture now. He grins and bows politely,

The pilot, after stepping out, walked to Wayne with a huge smile on his face. “Hey, BBA,” he hailed and embraced Wayne in a massive bear hug. The pilot was a black man with extremely white teeth that shone even through the dark sunglasses. He had on a military neat haircut, trimmed professionally down to his beards. His arms were massive, and even his thighs proved he was the handiwork of years of playing with gym machines. “I'm glad I could be of service, Alpha,” he was saying as Olive approached them. “Great. So we'll let you know immediately we reach the location and you'd just drop us off,” Wayne stated.

At least that was what she'd tell him when he returned. The plane was mere yards away from the dock by this time. Shasta could see the pilot, his face obscured by green aviator sunglasses and huge headphones. He appeared to have a light blond beard and mustache. As he got closer, he cut the engine, and the lake was quiet again. The door popped open and the pilot swung himself down and grabbed a paddle from the inner side of the pontoon, using it to maneuver the aircraft toward the dock. Without the headphones, Shasta could see that the man had long, thick honey-blond hair that hung in a braid down his back. He gave a littl

I tried again as the engines hummed to life, “tropical? Europe? Somewhere cold?” He didn’t even blink. “Rest.” “That’s not an answer.” “It is sufficient.” I groaned softly and crossed my arms. As the jet began to move, I noticed him lean slightly toward the cockpit entrance before the door shut completely. “Remember,” he told the pilot quietly, though I still heard it, “no announcement of the destination.” The pilot nodded once. “Understood.” My head snapped toward him. “You told him not to announce it?” “Yes.” “You are ridiculous.”