Sylvia and the Flyboys Ch. 01

SYLVIA AND THE FLYBOYS-I

AUGUST SMAXWELL

Copyright © 2026 August Smaxwell

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Content Warning

Contains heaping amounts of oral sex, ball fondling, cock worship, and group dynamics between four men and one girl. For your safety, please do not proceed if any of the above is triggering.

The Four Men-I

Four buttoned trousers faced her. She knew what to do. How to keep their engines running. How to keep them flying. How to keep them coming back for more. She smiled up at them, sitting on her squat stool under the shade of the plane's bosom.

Their faces were marred and smeared with ash. They reeked of gunpowder and oil.  

More notches to be tallied on their vehicles.  

More men given to the dirt below.

She set her tools aside, kicked her toolbox over, and centered her stool between the four men.

She started from the left, cupping the underside of their trousers, two at a time, raising her hands up until she felt the weight of their balls catch in her palm, and lowering them to let their balls drop back down. This is how she started, giving her four flyboys a simple clothed examination.  

Feeling the heft of their balls in her hands delighted her and she liked to compare the weight of them, compare the lowness of them.  

The four men stood there, booted, hips forward, presenting their post battle bulge, happy to be alive, happy to have her touching them, reminding them, lifting them up, letting them fall into her hands, knowing she will catch them, knowing they are alive.

She took her time with her flyboys, her men deserved her full attention and care, and as far as she was concerned, servicing them was as important as servicing their planes, their vehicles of death, she had to keep them alive, the only way she knew how.

She circled their crotches again, instead of just two pairs of big balls in her hands, she felt the stiff weight of their growing cocks, trapped in their trousers, such a shame.  

She giggled at them, the effect was priceless.  

At this point, once she saw their stiff cocks pushing their trousers forward, she didn't just measure the weight of cock and ball in her hands, she also brought her palms up and brushed them against the seam of their button fly, curling her fingers around them, making a few quick motions as she gave them an exaggerated smile. This made the men groan.

At different tones, the men groaned.  

Sometimes while they were waiting to be touched and sometimes while they were being touched.  

This created a song. The sound of their engines that pleased her so.  

She could throttle them, she could listen to how they idled, humming and rumbling louder if they idled too long. She would squeeze harder the larger they felt in her hands, just enough to make their eyes react and surge.

When wet spots began to show, just a slight spot, moist and soaked through, she knew she had them, she'd remark ecstatically, good boy she'd say and continue her rounds.  

Once one man was wet, the others were quick to follow, not wanting to be left behind, not wanting to miss out on her notice, not wanting to be out of repair.

"Good boys," she said to them, once she had four growing wet spots to run her fingers along, spreading the moisture on the soft pad of her fingertip. Four growing wet spots she could put her face beside and gush hot breath upon. She could place her tongue right over that spot, inching it closer, but hovering away to preserve the authenticity of pure seminal fluid, the wetness that she created. This tease always made them moan. She'd get close and they would all moan. It didn't matter if it was their cock her tongue lowered towards, or their buddies cock her tongue lowered towards. They wanted her all the same, they wanted her service, they wanted to screw her, they wanted to scoop her up in their arms, tear her shirt open, grope her breasts, steal her skirt, rip off her underwear, and drive their fingers into each of her holes, slopping them with spit until they could lower her onto their cocks, one at a time. They watched her do this tease, hovering her tongue in front of their trousers, waiting for their moment to be unleashed and ravage her the way she desperately wanted to be ravaged. The way that would show her their engines were in top shape. They were ready to fly, the war had not shaken them, the death had not shaken them, the horrors of life had not shaken them, they were ready to take her, to have her, to share her beauty and her lust and live another day in the sky.

It was at this point she set free one single button per flyboy. An act which made them go "Ohhhhh," a simple act that made them want more. She slipped a finger into each buttonfly, using the space she had created, jostling their hard cocks against their trousers. Their balls were low, swollen, and heavy at this point. She pressed her nose to that free hole in their fly and took a deep smell. She smelled the sweat of each man, the moistness of their unwashed throbbing cocks. She smelled and fondled their balls, pressing her cheek into the hard mound of their trouser trapped pricks.

She let another button free and closed her eyes to focus on how they sung for her, her four men.

This time she circled them with her hands, she spread her legs wide, forcing her skirt up and showing the dark spot on her grey cotton panties. Her men liked this part, her clear arousal, they knew how it would feel rubbing their hands on her soft panties, feeling her lips and folds and the wet stickiness, the relaxed openness of her pussy, and the puffy arousal to her lips. They'd resist slapping her pussy, they'd resist roughing her up, they'd resist at first.

She undid their belts, letting the leather and the buckle brush into her face as she took each man, one at a time, and squeezed their tight, round, perky buttocks. She loved to fondle their firm, gushy asses, it made her think of what they'd do to her, the power they held there, the thrusting they intended to do, and she pulled them forward, pulled their crotch into her face as she ran her hands up and down and squeezed their taut asses, they were hers, hers to service, hers to enjoy, hers to fondle, hers to harvest.

She tugged at the side of their trousers, lowering them down, inch by inch until their manes showed and she ran her fingers through their wiry masculine hair, she sniffed each one deeply, her men, she thought, her tough men, they can't die.

She tugged their trousers down further, they always got caught on the curve of their round asses and the stiff length of their fat shafts.  

She giggled. "How did you boys ever get these trousers on," she said.

"It is a struggle everyday, mam."

"They can be awful tight at times."

"I just pull 'em up and hope for the best."

"I'm too throbbed to think. Fuck, you are hot."

"Easy, easy," she said, "no going too fast, wouldn't want there to be an accident."

This part was her favorite, the moment the trousers gave way, the moment that thrilled her.

Pop, pop, pop, pop she went down the line, pulling their trousers past the threshold and watching their huge triumphant cocks spring up from deep waters, free and glorious and throbbing, with a big clear drop hanging off each penis hole, waiting for her tongue to slide in for a taste.

They grinned at her, she grinned back at them, "Oh my," she said, surprised every time at how big and worked up they got for her, throbbing and solid as steel.

She gripped each shaft, one by one, and licked the dollop of seminal fluid from each head and watched as their eyes lolled back. Her men were happy, her methods were worth the wait.  

Her tongue made them pulse and throb and gush with euphoria, they wanted more, they wanted her full mouth, they wanted to watch her suck, they wanted to feel her suck, they wanted to hear her suck, popping each fat penis head out of her succulent mouth, the sweet suction her generous lips provided.

She blew them one by one, using her free hand to hold the shaft of the cock in waiting.  

Cupping the balls of the cock being sucked.

That is how she liked to do it.

She could only service so many cocks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

She could only do so much.  

Better to have one man over the moon, better to have the rest in waiting.

She liked to grip the runner-up in pulses, periodic but consistent. I'm coming for you next big boy, she said with her hand, keeping the shaft thick and engorged and solid.

She slid her mouth down on her main focus, fitting the wide head of the penis into her mouth, running her tongue on the underside, giving little sucks as she progressed further down his length, bringing her hands further back on his balls, stroking and rubbing the back of them so she could feel the origin of the thing coming at her, throbbing deep inside him, like a creature, like a tentacle, impaling her innocent mouth. She rubbed that spot lightly, tickled his root, and caressed the iron hardness under his skin. Well sucked, she moved onto the next one, taking care of the leaking seminal fluid first with one big lick and eye contact she passed between the men.

I already did you, her eyes said.

My tongue feels good, doesn't it?

Keep throbbing in my hand, you are next.

Poor man, I'll get to you soon, would never dream of wasting that big thing.

She rounded her lips around his penis, making bright faces as she enjoyed her treat.  

The sound and feel of the engines in working order.

"Ohhhhh," they said.

She dove down deeper, letting him inside her throat, letting him fill and stretch and choke her with his cock, until her nose and lips pressed into the warmth of his body and she took both hands to grip each cheek of his taut ass as she made the men stare and groan for her.

Out popped the slobbered prick.

Onto the next one.

The first served men slowly polished their slick shafts as she made her rounds.  

She grabbed the two patient cocks, slid their soft skin up and down the stiff shafts and licked up their seminal fluid, alternating between the two until all was claimed, even squeezing and urging out anything that might still be on its way. She knew how to treat her men, her prized engines. She gave big licks and dove her mouth forward and pulled the waiting cock over, tugging him by the prick until she had both their heads at her lips and she decided to lick and suck her way between them, rubbing them together, rubbing them to her face, sucking one down to the base and sucking the other down to the base.

The men moaned.

She moaned and gave a head nod to the two polishing their shafts in waiting, they both got behind her, lifted her off her stool and made her kneel, legs spread so they could hike her skirt up, pull her drooled panties down, and grope her ass, pulling it side to side and circling it, watching her two holes open and squelch and squeak. The most eager slid under her legs, propped himself up by the elbows and licked at the front of her cunt. She continued to stroke and suck her two standing men.

The one free cock found its way into her ass, holding her steady by the breast as he stretched her anus open with the swollen head of his cock and her mouth opened wider as she took it in the ass and sucked and slobbered what was in front of her.

His penis pushed the warmth out of her cunt and into the eager man's tongue.  

Her moans thrilled the two cocks that prodded into her mouth.  

She shrieked and gasped, they moaned and groaned.  

She stuck her ass out, coaxing that hard cock deeper inside her, she stretched her throat, letting the two men thrust each time she lined them up with her mouth. She ground her hips, riding her clit on the man's tongue, letting him enjoy the puffy red blush to her sticky, happy, pussy.

The tongue flicked and flicked at her clit, until she bounced and cried, and came, going oh, oh, oh onto the cock in her mouth, making it convulse and spray several bursts into her throat and the cock in her ass hardened, tightened, and pressed in deep, she felt him in her tummy as he filled her and she pulled in the other cock, but it came before it quite made her mouth, the cum spraying and dripping off her face as she clamped her lips around the head, gulping it all down.

The spent cock left her ass and she sat down on the fourth man, letting his excited prick go up her cunt, skewering her, and filling her with cum as the riding pushed the liquids out of her used asshole.

She collapsed on his chest, spent.

Patting her hand on flesh, panting, she said, "My good men."

"Oh, Sylvia," they said.

Breathless, sweaty, satisfied, the service girl code.