Acro Image

Aerobatics Server

ACRO E-mail Archive Thread: [Acro] Paco II: Paco and Tailwheel

[International Aerobatic Club] [Communications] [Aerobatics Images]

Disclaimer: These aerobatics pages are developed by individual IAC members and do not represent official IAC policy or opinion.

[Usage Statistics]

ACRO E-mail Archive Thread: [Acro] Paco II: Paco and Tailwheel


Thread: [Acro] Paco II: Paco and Tailwheel

Message: [Acro] Paco II: Paco and Tailwheel

Follow-Up To: ACRO Email list (for List Members only)

From: "Bob Romero" <love2loop at>

Date: Tue, 05 Nov 2002 22:16:12 UTC


Here in South Barnham, and at contests around the land, pilots have shamed
me and expressed disdain for the actions I took (and recently wrote about)
one summer evening against a young, cleanly shaven, tanned and firm Paco.

Lest any of you, and most of you do, feel sorrow for young Paco, I feel
compelled to reveal to you certain of his behaviors that were not so

We at the airport had taken a liking to and eventually adopted an aging,
Irish Setter who stumbled across our taxiway one evening.  Though young in
spirit, he was nearly lame and, thus, was given the name “Tailwheel”.

Paco loved Tailwheel. Perhaps, too much, at times.   Ours is a quiet
airfield.  Rarely, is there any activity prior to 0700 HRS and Paco knew
this.  One morning, I arrived at the airport early to depart for a contest.
Looking for fuel, I ventured into the main hangar at 0600 HRS and found Paco
in a most peculiar of positions lying on a mechanic’s creeper underneath
Tailwheel.  Paco, always one to borrow a tool from those of us on the field
with more significant means, had masterfully inserted a torque wrench into
Tailwheel’s rectum.

Paco had dilated Tailwheel’s ass to an astounding 1 3/16” and was having a
devil of a time keeping Tailwheel from collapsing on top of him.  Drooling,
panting and moaning, Tailwheel sheepishly looked to me as his only hope for
salvation in young Paco’s makeshift den of fueling accessories and torture.

Whilst balancing the torque wrench and Tailwheel in his left hand, supple
Paco managed the talent to masturbate Tailwheel with his right hand. Back
and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth,
back and forth, worked Paco’s right hand.

Undetected and in shock, I remained behind a shelving and could not help but
think of Paco’s poetentially brilliant future working at Home Depot as a
paint shaker.  I hastily sneaked from the line facility and placed my fuel
order via phone.  When Paco arrived, his neck was cocked in a funny
position.  His claim was that it was the result of a tryst with a local
female the night before.  I knew better.

Another time, in a terrible rainstorm, I bowed to my wife’s constant fucking
nagging and took her to see the airport.  Having removed from the hangar
wall the various centerfolds from such wonderful publications as ALMOST
LEGAL, JUST 18 and BEAVER HUNT magazines in anticipation of her request, I
felt that a rainy day would be a safe time to trot out the old bitch.  At
least, so I hoped, no one that I knew would be there.  “Why do I keep the
bitch” many would ask me.  “Well, it’s better than giving away half of my
money” was my usual reply.  Funny, every man at that airport understood.
But, I digress.

Typical to form for a bitch like her, she seemed fascinated not by the
aircraft on the field, but by other fixtures.  She demanded to look at the
biggest hangar on the field:  the main hangar where Paco worked.

The two of us entered the hangar and were shocked to see Paco bent over an
old, tattered footstool.   Pants around his ankles, Paco had managed to
insert a funnel into his ass.  Next to Paco, on the cement floor, rested an
industrial sized jar of JIF peanut butter and a  5-gallon can of hydraulic
fluid.  The near-empty jar of peanut butter and the mess on the surrounding
floor indicated deaperate, if not convulsive actions.  Despite this scene,
my attention was immediately drawn to Tailwheel……..and the peanut butter.

As if a parched, lost soul discovering a spring in the middle of a barren
desert, Tailwheel, in a frenzied state, licked the peanut butter from Paco’s
dangling, piñata-like testicles.  For minutes, Tailwheel lathered Paco’s
region with his tongue.  How long Tailwheel had been administering such
affection was unknown, but ol’ lame Tailwheel looked as if he had the
endurance of a marathon runner.   Then, in an amazing demonstration of
strenth and agility, Paco lunged for the hydraulic fluid and hoisted it,
blindly, directly to the mouth of the funnel.

One gallon, then two, then three disappeared into paco’s rectum.   The large
mouth of the funnel overflowed yet Tailwheel’s attention remained strong.
Then, as if well rehearsed by both man and beast, Paco motioned Tailwheel
away from his ass.  With emphasis, Paco shouted, “CLEAR!”.   At once, Paco
expelled the hydraulic fluid from his ass.  The spray, mixed with waste,
covered the facility and Tailwheel like molten lava.

Ol’ Tailwheel would die just weeks later.  Ever the public servant, Paco
volunteered to bury Tailwheel near the windsock.   Rumor has it that Paco,
late at night, would visit ol’ Tailwheel, whom he had buried with his ass in
the air for easy access.

Sign-up for your own FREE Personalized E-mail at

Single & ready to mingle?  Where singles click. Free to Search!


© Dr. Günther Eichhorn
Email Guenther Eichhorn