"I don't see how you could get away with something like that."

The rutheat flew from her like a rain of fucklust in the humid jungle.

"I could use stealth," he grinned.

"Wait just a second, loverboy. I have to go take a tiny piss."

Desiree turned on her heels. Looked back at him over her shoulder. Slash watched the curvature of her ass flash.

Then she disappeared into the restroom.

He noticed that Desiree had left the restroom door ajar. He quickly flopped down a fistful of dollars. Grabbed up a handful of tiny booze bottles from the storage bin beneath the counter.

Stashed them inside the pockets of his jacket. "There's no paper in here," Slash heard Desiree proclaim in a loud whisper from within the airplane's restroom.

"Excuse me?"

He saw the door flag open. Her unshod stockinged leg kicked out and up.

Beckoning, without shame.

Slash peered about into the doorway of the bathroom.

He was hit in the face-with a slap of pantyhose on the fly.

Caught a pair of moist panties on the chin.

He smiled.

Cocked his head about.

Slipped within.

"Where the fuck did he go?" Noreen snarled to herself as she sucked on her cig. "Fucking Slash. Probably picked up some other chippie somewhere else on the plane."

The heat in her quim turned to pain.

"Fucking jilted." She snorted.

"Fucking crazy, I am."

Alone, Noreen's mind continued to turn itself in and out. Milling on the reasons for the demise of her career in gymnastics.

Was it her fault that her body was developing into that of a full-blown woman?

Biology was biology.

Who was Noreen to interfere?

But she knew that other gymnasts had taken steps to alter their biological destinies.

Was Noreen not serious enough?

Should Noreen have taken hormone-blockers to preserve her hitherto girlish figure?