NOTE: New posts go at the top, as in most blogs, but that means that in a story like this, spread over more than one post, you really need to find the first post in the series and read them in order. So, that's what I suggest you do here.

When rescue finally came, it was spectacular to say the least.

I awoke to a sound like thunder, only constant. A low rumbling that got louder and louder. Gina ran from the bedroom at the back of the bus to the kitchen area, which has a large window. I slid out of my bunk and trotted up to be with her. She looked at me with a Cheshire cat grin, saying nothing.

Down in the flat area below us rested a helicopter so huge I couldn't even imagine such a thing might exist. And crossing the space between the helicopter and us were three men in boots, for much of the area was inches deep in mud and muck. The one in front was Gina's billionaire boyfriend, Ray.

"Get dressed. Help has arrived!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. I then ran to put on some basic clothes myself. While I dressed, Belle and Kelsey were rounding up some clothing and putting it on, too. I could see that Belle, who always likes to look perfect, was none too happy at having to get ready in a rush, and especially since rescue probably meant she'd be seen by men.

In a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. Gina answered it and in stepped Ray with two big friendly-looking guys who had a military look to them. Gina gave him a huge hug and when Belle came over to greet her uncle with a kiss, he held her as well.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked.

We indicated that basically we were well and were quite glad to see him.

Kelsey, who had been staring out the window at the giant helicopter, asked "What is that thing?"

Ray smiled and said, "It's a specialized VHLH for lifting heavy loads."

Kelsey asked, "And 'VHLH' means?"

"It means a 'very heavy lifting helicopter.' It's a prototype. At this point, there are only two of them. The other one is currently being tested in Montana logging operations. This one was the closest one and, luckily, was only 300 miles away. I know the owner of the company that built it. I'm also an investor. He thought it'd be a good test for it. It's designed to be a high-capacity crane in situations you can't easily get an earthbound crane to. Situations like this one, for example."

I think we all looked incredulous. Ray added, "Hey, it's designed to pick up trucks, railroad cars, large bundles of logs, even armored vehicles weighing half again as much as this bus weighs. There are other ways of extracting this bus, but they're all time consuming and at least as expensive. This is the way to do it."

Kelsey still looked dubious. Ray chuckled and said, "Don't worry: you won't be in the bus when we lift it. Or even in the helicopter, for that matter. There's a Hummer a few dozen yards behind the bus now. We'll all be traveling in that. Not even I am allowed to be in the helicopter while it's lifting. There's no way to make this a risk-free task. Even once those things go into production, their tasks will always involve risk."

I offered him and his helpers a bit of breakfast but of course they had already eaten. (It was a pro forma offer anyway, which I didn't really expect to be taken up on.)

To make a long story short, we all grabbed a few bags of essentials, in case the airlift turned into a debacle, and trundled back to the waiting Humvee. It crept backward until we were, I'd say, a good quarter mile away.

It took surprisingly little time for some straps to be put around the bus. No more than 15 minutes. Ray explained that the men he had brought with him were engineers who were there to decide how best to attach the strap to maximize balance while minimizing the chance of slippage.

The gigantic helicopter lifted itself off the ground surprisingly nimbly. It hovered over the bus and dropped down a pair of cables, which the men attached to the straps. I don't know what we expected, but the helicopter lifted the bus no more than two or three feet off the ground and set it back down on the other side of the washout. A total distance of perhaps 50 or 60 feet.

I said, "You mean...?" "Yep," said Ray, "we checked the road ahead. No more bad road." I was crestfallen. "You mean, if I had gone ahead and gotten us across that bad patch...?" He shrugged saying, "You had no way of knowing."

So, the helicopter gone, the Humvee took us across the washout to our waiting bus, which, other than being a bit muddy along the bottom where it had come in contact with the flood, and aside from some grime on the windows kicked up by the helicopter's rotor wash, was okay, though we needed to get some fuel pretty soon.

Clearly, Ray would be with us on the rest of this leg of the trip. He could hardly swing by to save his sweetie and just breeze on out of there. Besides, as you may know from a prior story, Ray's a pretty good fuck, and it's not every day you can orgy with a billionaire who's also a wonderful guy. Gina really lucked out when she won his heart.

Ray volunteered to drive for a while, and we were all glad to have him do so. Gina, of course, grabbed shotgun to be with her lover. But even while driving, we told him about the adventures we'd been having along the way. Of course, Gina filled him in briefly almost every day, but there were many things she hadn't had the time to tell him as well.

It was a jolly time for the next few hours. Everybody laughing and joining in to the conversation. All except Belle, though. And I was beginning to worry about her. You may think from how I've described the encounters I've had with her that she's a shallow airhead. She's not. She's a little immature, she's spoiled, but believe me, she's not lacking in psychological depth. I knew she wasn't worried about not getting the Gucci this or that she wanted. Something a lot more serious than that was on her mind as she stared out the dirty window.

I wondered what it might be. She wasn't ready to tell me, but when she was, I'd be there for her.

We made it to a truck stop in the middle of the afternoon, refueled, got more water, dumped the toilet waste, grabbed some lattes and magazines, and were soon on our way again, Ray still at the wheel. It was early evening when we pulled into Phoenix. Ray had arranged for us all to stay in a large suite together in one of the city's top hotels.

We all took what we needed from the bus and after Ray checked in, we went up the elevator to the top floor. The view was great, with streetlights on and cars using their headlamps. We all stood there marveling at the miracle of a sky that blended from yellow-orange at the horizon to indigo to black bespeckled with stars. I don't know what the others were thinking, but I was thinking what an odd thing it would be if there existed a universe that couldn't see itself.

Well, if the physicists' prevailing theory is right, that will indeed be the situation at some distant future time, for the universe is expanding at an increasing rate and, even with "dark matter," there doesn't seem to be enough stuff in the universe to cause The Big Crunch that once was thought to be the cosmic destiny. The universe will kind of evaporate and become devoid of all heat and light.

Strange.

This suite had four bedrooms. One for Ray and Gina, and one each for the rest of us. As enjoyable as the bus could be, it'd be nice to spend a night in a place where I could have a room all my own and sleep in a bed instead of a bunk.

We decided to crash for two hours and then go out for a mid-evening dinner.

It didn't take long before I heard clear evidence that Gina and Ray weren't using this time for taking a nap. I laughed to myself. Looking at my watch, I realized it was getting close to my brother's bedtime, so I called him up to see how he was doing. He didn't pick up. That worried me just a bit, mainly because I wanted to talk to him and hear his voice. I'd try again in the morning.

That done, I did snooze for maybe an hour and was puzzling over what to wear when Gina simplified things a bit by announcing that we'd be going dancing after dinner. So...something hot to trot. I found a plaid miniskirt with short just-above-the-knee black stockings. This plus a white shirt, red sweater, and black Mary Janes with a bit of platform, and I was ready!

The only surprise was that Belle, who is spectacularly gorgeous, was dressed in a rather dowdy manner...for her. A longer skirt than I'd ever seen her wear with a knit top, flesh-toned hose, and flats. Flats?!!! Those fantastic legs of hers are always shown off so well when she wears heels, but here she was wearing flats!

Both Gina and Kelsey were looking at her and then at me with that "WTF?" look on their faces. All I could do was shrug a "I dunno... You got me!"

Ray had gone ahead to arrange for a limo, according to Gina. And as we exited the elevator, sure enough, there he was by the front door. Outside was the longest limo I've ever seen. It had comfortable seats, a well-stocked bar, cable TV. What more could one ask for?

It turned out we were going to a restaurant called T. Cook's, which was very highly rated and is thought of as one of the top restaurants in the Phoenix/Scottsdale/Tempe area. It was located in a very impressive spa hotel setting. It looked expensive and it was. But Ray is rich and loves to spend (he once told Gina that he makes money faster than he can spend it), so I was secure in the knowledge not only that I wouldn't have to pay a penny, but that he'd be disappointed if we didn't help him accumulate a huge bill.

Belle, coming from a billionaire's family herself, knows how to spend money, and she tried, but clearly she had no appetite. Even Ray asked her if she felt okay, and she said she did, but I knew otherwise.

I won't go into a lot of detail, but between us we had tenderloins, lobster, crab, and lamb. The wine was exceptional. The service couldn't have been better. But we skipped dessert because we had a whole evening of dancing ahead of us.

Soon, we were on our way to Phoenix's Old Town area, where we did some club hopping. A billionaire with four cuties doesn't have to wait in line at almost any club in the world, and these clubs were no exception, with the owner or manager always coming down to welcome us and offer us a round of drinks. (Funny: the richer and more famous you are, or the sexier you are, the less you have to pay for.)

I have very wide-ranging taste in music. At home, I could just as easily be listening to Bach as Moby, to Coltrane as The Beatles. But for dancing, I'll take some uptempo electronica every time. E? Hell, no. For me, music is as exciting and intoxicating as any drug. After sex, it's the most fun you can have. Kelsey and I were getting a little out of control, making sure to show off our undies, and it was a tribute to the firmness of Kelsey's ample bazooms that they didn't pop out of her rather low-cut loose-fitting top.

Gina and Ray danced a little, but as it was a bit of a reunion after being apart for a couple weeks, so they spent a lot of time in each others arms getting all smoochy and huggy. While I love my independent life, there are moments when I wish I had a boyfriend.

Belle just watched. Now, we all knew that was absolutely unnatural. Belle was born to party. Whenever I hear Girls Just Want To Have Fun, I think of her. She even caught Ray's attention. Ray is her uncle and he cares a lot for her, so he left Gina momentarily and walked over to Belle, who stood up. They hugged, and I could almost read his lips saying, "What's wrong, sweetie?" Once again, she denied anything was wrong.

Like Hell! All the time she's been with us, she's been a little down. Even her beloved uncle Ray couldn't pry it out of her.

About 1:30 a.m., by mutual consent, we decided to return to the hotel. I really couldn't wait. I have done three-ways with Ray. In fact, if you read my story from August, 2005, "And To Think I Got Paid For Doing This!," you'll know that I met him when Gina was briefly an escort. Well, by then I guess you'd have to say she was more a "kept woman," but she arranged a three way for him. I'm the one female who can join them with no hint of jealousy. He likes us both and she knows I'd never betray her by trying to take him away. Besides, he is so in love with her and she with him, that'd never happen anyway. I like him, he's fun, but for me a three-way with them is just fun.

When we got back to the hotel suite, I was not so much expecting as hoping to have a good fuck, but instead of the invitation, Gina looked at me as if to say, "I know what you want, but not tonight." She even kind of shooed me toward my room with the strangest of smiles. Like she knew something I didn't.

"Strange," I thought. I'd get an explanation tomorrow, I thought. Until then, I'd just have to be puzzled.

The answer came sooner than I expected, for when I walked into my room and toward the walk-in closet, I heard a familiar voice say, "Jill." I turned, and there was my brother. Damn that Gina and her surprises! I'm sure that the night I was on the phone with my brother she got in touch with Ray and set this up.

As I've said many a time, Gina is virtually a sister. To her, Cliff (I believe this is the first time I've used his name in a story) was her brother in a way. The three of us have done things together. There is a bond between them similar to the one between Gina and me.

Anyway, when I turned and saw him, I think I burst into tears the way Halle Berry did when she won the Oscar. Did you see that? I think tears didn't just fill her eyes, they more or less squirted out of her head, flying through the air like juice from a squeezed orange. I think that's an experience we've all had. I was so happily surprised to see Cliff that I shrieked...loudly. This is when everyone else appeared at my door, smiling. Except for Belle, who was obviously depressed and, besides, had no idea who Cliff was, until Gina told her. Then she smiled just a little. Kelsey gave Cliff a little wave and a smile, and he waved back.

I gave my brother a huge hug and he lifted me off the floor in hugging me back. Gina dragged the others away, closing my bedroom door while sending the rest to their respective rooms, thus giving Cliff and me a little privacy.

Now, I have described my room as a bedroom, but each bedroom was a complete suite in itself, with an open floor plan and its own bathroom. One entire wall looked over the city. It included a corner that functioned as a little living room area with a TV on a rolling cart (the cart populated with recent popular DVD's and a DVD player to play them with...no calling down to the main desk to set up a rental!). There was also a couch and two chairs with a coffee table between them.

I got Cliff a beer from the well-stocked minibar and made myself a weak rum and coke and we sat down and got caught up in a way that's impossible or impractical using e-mail or even the brief phonecalls we'd had from time to time during the trip, not counting the long one the night Cliff called about his love life.

He was still bummed, I could tell, but I could see he would get over it and move on, as nature intended, and not do something foolish like a high school friend had done. She had hung herself when her first love dropped her. Cliff knew all about that, and knowing her parents as I did, and seeing the devastation she had left in the wake of her selfish solution to her depression, I think he is now proof against suicide. He loves mom and dad and me far too much to ruin our lives the way she had ruined her family's.

We talked for about an hour, but both of us were tired. Especially him, since back in Ohio it was dawn already and his body wash aching for rest. Having been partying fairly hard all evening and into the night, mine was craving sleep as well.

We continued to chatter, though, as we got ready for bed. We brushed our teeth and talked through the bathroom door as we did our last "business" of the day, and then climbed into bed with each other for the first time since our preteen years.

Now, don't go thinking anything kinky happened. We gave each other a dry kiss on the lips, hugged, and then I turned the light out. That was the last thing I remember. I can't even remember my head nestling into the pillow.

Gina knocked on the door at around 10 a.m. and said we should get ready, for Ray was taking us all down to the restaurant buffet at 10:30. So, Cliff and I got ready and were the last to reach the gathering at the elevator.

The breakfast was a typical breakfast buffet, only everything was top drawer. Pancakes, waffles, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, several kinds of toast, bagels, cream cheese, about 10 kinds of jam and jelly. You get the idea, I'm sure.

Everyone was well-rested and eager to get on with the day, so we were a little boisterous. So much so that Ray indicated with his eyes and a nod of his head that people at other tables were looking at us with a mix of curiosity and mild disapprobation. Not everyone wants to listen to a bunch of giggling and yapping girls while having their breakfast, so we toned it down quite a bit.

Cliff sat between me and Gina, the two people he knew best. He knew Kelsey fairly well, but Ray and Belle not so much. Ray had been there with Gina when my folks renewed their vows, but he didn't know Belle at all. Even so, I caught Cliff staring at Belle from time to time. And why not? She's a goddess in human form. Yes, she's immature and acts childlike and self-centered, but isn't that how gods and goddesses have always been, even Yahweh the supposed God of Christianity?

The Greek gods were supposedly jealous backstabbers. Yahweh supposedly likes to send people to eternal damnation for what seem to be relatively petty offenses made due to the very frailty he built into them. And I remember something like "I am a jealous God and you shall place no other gods before me." In humans, jealousy isn't an admirable emotion.

And yet, a flash of jealousy was what I felt, for as much as I complain about Belle, on some level I'm absolutely and totally smitten by her as well. And now, it seems, my brother is, too. "Smitten," that wonderful word from our Germanic heritage (English was born out of German, after all). It obviously comes from the German verb "schmeissen," which literally means "to smash," or in older English "to smite." Yeah, whenever Belle is around, I'm absolutely and totally smitten.

Belle seemed to pick up on his attention after a while, but it didn't have much effect on her gloom. Eventually, I elbowed him and asked him if he might try to stare at her just a bit less, and he stated the obvious, "I'm sorry. She's simply the most beautiful girl I've ever seen!" "I agree," I thought. I said, "Yes, she's very beautiful. Just try and bear in mind that she's still a human being."

He got straight to the point after that: "But...she seems so sad. Why?"

"Hell if I know," was my earnest reply.

After that, he stared somewhat less.

As breakfast wound down, Gina announced that the bus was waiting out in the parking lot for us. Ray had had it cleaned up inside and out and checked over. Some adjustments had been made and it was running better than ever.

So, we went up to the suite, gathered our stuff together, and once we were all ready, we took the elevator down to the lobby, waited while Ray checked out, and he walked us to the bus, where he gathered Gina and his niece, Belle, in his arms, giving them both loving kisses and hugs.

And off he went to try to find newer and better ways to spend his billions. As for us, Vegas was were we'd decided to go next, for we had a friend who'd invited us to visit.

Gina, of course, felt that ineffable sadness one feels when one bits ones lover good-bye, even if it's only to be temporary, and in actuality, his visit was a treat, for he wasn't even supposed to visit us on our trip.

I think it's when I saw her momentary flash of sadness that it really hit me that once we arrived in Portland, Gina herself would be even more of a visitor than she was before. Her home base is Detroit, mine was Cleveland, and Portland is so far from either of those cities.

But...then I reminded myself that her man owns an airplane company, after all, and that she could fly to Australia on practically a moment's notice if she felt like it. Portland didn't seem so far away when I thought of it that way.

Gina volunteered to drive, but Kelsey said, "When is it going to be Belle's turn?" We looked at each other and then at Belle, who suddenly emerged from her doldrums to say, "Who, me?" Gina, Kelsey, and I said, "Why not?" in unison.

Cliff then said, "Well, I should learn to drive it, too, then." And so, after Gina drove around and found a space big enough to make mistakes in, Belle and Cliff both were taught the basics of driving the bus.

Belle had been first nominated, so she took to the wheel and surprised us all by driving virtually flawlessly. After about two hours on the road she complained of getting the drowsies. Gina said, "Cliff, go up and talk to her. Keep her awake by keeping her thinking."

Cliff looked at me as if to see if I objected. I shrugged and smiled, indicating "Why not?" I think it was his shyness.

And so he went up and obviously she at first thought he was coming up to take over the wheel, and I could see a little frown (for the same mirror that allows the driver to look back into the cabin also allows the cabin to look at the driver's face.

Kelsey got out the cards and we had played a few hands of poker when we heard something we hadn't heard in quite a while...Belle laughed! She laughed a few more times while we played, and each time the three of us just smiled to ourselves.

After a while, it was obvious Belle was past fighting off sleep, and so I yelled, "Come on back, Cliff. Play some poker with the girls." And so, he tore himself away from her and came back.

We tried not to make it too obvious, but we all wanted some idea what had happened up in the front. We would never have asked directly, but we were hoping for some insight.

He sat down and, bless him, all he said about her were two things we didn't expect to hear: "She's really smart." When we all stared at him blankly, for we were trying to wrap our minds around the thought that Belle=smart when he stunned us further by asking, "Why? Don't you know that she's a math major? We talked about Ramanujan and joked a bit."

"Of course we knew," said Kelsey. But, of course, truthfully, we didn't. Gina had been about to take a sip of coffee when he dropped that bomb, and he's lucky he didn't say it about three seconds later or I'm afraid we'd all have been drenched with java!

So we played poker a little while, when Gina finally laid down her cards and asked, "Who the fuck is Ramawhatsis?" Cliff looked at her in nerdy astonishment, like a Star Wars nut who's been asked "Who is Luke Skywalker?" "Ramanujan. He's just simply the most fantastic mathematical genius of the last century."

Well, actually, to my credit, I did know that Ramanujan was a great mathematician. You learn things if you watch Nova or The Discovery Channel instead of The Bachelor or America's Next Top Model. But I couldn't have told you much about him beyond his fame and the fact that he led a sad life.

Belle? The clothes horse? The girl who I'd personally seen fuck at least a half dozen guys? That Belle? I entertained the idea that maybe she knew just enough to put him on. However, when I took a quick potty break, I walked past the bunk that had her gear on it. Using my body to hide what I was doing, in case Belle was looking back into the cabin, I picked up a notebook on her bunk. The notebook she sometimes could be seen scribbling into, and which we all thought was just a diary.

It was like looking at fucking Einstein's blackboard. My jaw dropped, and I felt just like I did when I was 13 and had found out that Mike had kissed Sally. I couldn't wait to gossip!

If you've read the series of stories entitled "It Didn't Stay In Vegas," you'll remember that while in Vegas the last time, Kelsey, Gina, Belle and I had met a well-known entertainer who, to protect his identity and privacy, I refer to simply as "NW" (name withheld). I never divulge whether he's a singer, magician, mentalist, or comedian. But I'll tell you, he makes money by the truckload.

You hear the word "compound" thrown around. The President has one at Camp David. Michael Jackson has one. The Kennedys apparently have one. Well, NW has an estate on the outskirts of Vegas that is surrounded by a 15 foot high brick wall, and where dobermans run around rather freely.

We pulled up to the compound gate in the early evening and were met by an armed guard who obviously had been expecting us. We were let in and NW was standing out front of his home, dobermans on either side of him. Like any well-trained guard dog, they took their cues from him. He was welcoming us, so they waited until we were close and as he embraced us, they took a sniff, probably remembering us from our last visit. I say that because they seemed much more attentive to Cliff, the one they'd never met. With his scent filed away in their canine memories, they soon paid no additional attention to him.

Cliff had met NW at mom and dad's renewal of vows, but had never seen how someone as rich as NW lived. My parent's house is a comfy three-bedroom bungalow. NW's place had probably somewhere between 15 and 20 rooms. It was set in several acres of land, most of it covered with green grass, which in itself is a miracle under Vegas's sweltering sun. To Cliff, it was all like a dream. To Belle and Gina, it was just another very nice home. Belle had been born to wealth and Gina has been living in wealthy circumstances for several years. To her credit, she remains a real mensch and it hasn't spoiled her or gone to her head one bit.

Belle was acting almost normal. She remained a little sad, but much more able to interact than before. I still couldn't get over the fact that my brother's nerdspeak had got her to open up, for he was much more used to talking with other guys about video games, sci-fi flicks, and other bright boy stuff than stuff most girls like talking about. But then who knew she was a mathematician. For some reason, it never occurred to us she was even a student! Come to think of it, being a knockout might even put a girl math wizard at some sort of disadvantage.

We all walked inside. NW's arm was around Belle in an almost fatherly fashion. She rested her head on his shoulder from time to time and they whispered in each other's ears. When we go to the dining room, where a buffet had been laid out for us, NW gave Belle an extra squeeze and said that he'd have to leave soon to go to the casino and prepare for his evening show. He waved and was off.

Hilda, the cook, hovered over the buffet, helping to serve, explaining what things were, answering questions. As the first time we were here, Belle was the first in line, and the way Hilda talked to her indicated that she was not just a welcome guest, but a very familiar one, too.

As we ate, Kelsey and I filled Cliff in on the wonders of this place. The huge grounds, Olympic-size swimming pool, shady bowers where one could get some relief from the sun (not such a problem this time of year, but welcome in mid-summer, for sure). We even mentioned that "NW" had a pet elephant, but then Hilda, who had overheard us interrupted to report that, sadly, the elderly elephant that Belle had lovingly dubbed "Little Nell" had passed on. I didn't want to think about what one does with a dead elephant, so I changed the subject to more frivolous things.

After dinner, Hilda guided us to our rooms. The last time, we had been put in what was essentially a dormitory room with several beds, obviously originally intended for an entire family, so that they could all be together.

This time, probably due to the fact that we were now a mixed sex group, we all got separate rooms. They were arranged consecutively all in one hall, but each of us now had complete privacy, and each room had its own bathroom. It was much like a hotel room in that regard. Hilda instructed us to put our things in our rooms and meet her back by the front door. Once we got there, we got a surprise. Hilda announced that NW had invited us to see his show. So, we piled into a limo and were driven to the casino hotel where he performs. We didn't even have to go in the front door. We went through the stage door and were ushered through a door beside the stage to a front table, center stage.

The show was incredible, as so many Vegas shows are, and after the show we were led backstage to NW's little backstage apartment (because it's so much more than merely a dressing room, and was obviously designed for NW to entertain guests before and after shows). When we got there, there were two pop stars, a sports celebrity, and a well known politician. We were introduced as "friends" and I shook more famous person's hands in one minute than I have in any other minute of my life. (Remember: well-known musicians were frequent guests in our house when I was a kid, so it's not like I've never met a famous person in my life...just not so much lately.)

We had some wine and hobnobbed with the celebs, except for Cliff, who hobnobbed but is too young to drink alcohol legally, even if provided by a famous person. I promised him some once we got back to NW's place, but I could see that he was feeling a little "odd man out." And then, you know what happened? Belle dragged him off to a corner where they talked some more. She was smiling! It was just like back when she was driving the bus.

And so it was for a half hour or 45 minutes until NW announced that he would have to be moving along to another obligation. A subtle wink our way indicated that that obligation was us. And so he shook hands, patted celebs on the back, and one by one they filed out, leaving just us.

Grabbing a small duffel bag, he said, "Let's get outta here!"

I noticed that he looked frequently at Kelsey with a smile, which she returned in kind. And why not? Apparently, when we were at his beach hacienda in Yucatàn, he and Kelsey had got it on out on the beach in rather spectacular fashion. Of course, he and I had had a very nice discussion just prior, and I certainly hoped for more of that, because he's smart and interesting, but I can certainly understand matters of the hard-on coming first.

I looked around the room and noticed that Cliff and Belle were together. They were quickly becoming a pair, and it seemed to be benefiting them both very nicely. Of course, Cliff didn't know that I have a "thing" for Belle, and since I don't really like having that crush, handing her off to someone else I truly loved, my brother, seemed to be a rather handy solution, although any solution would hurt somewhat.

In a way, even though it seemed Belle and Cliff were benefiting each other at the moment by taking their minds off what had been bothering them, I really didn't want Cliff hooking up with Belle long term, because her family sucked. They were rich, but they had no idea what it is to be a family, and Belle had obviously been an interruption and inconvenience in her parents' career.

I suppose if one wondered about Belle's gloom, one could guess it might have something to do with her family. It might be pregnancy. It might be a diagnosis of cancer. It could be any of a dozen things. Oh, well. It would come out when it came out.

After clambering into NW's limo, we drove around town with NW pointing out the various casino hotels, with interesting stories about each. He pointed out some of the unique shops located in Vegas, many of them existing only in Vegas and New York, Vegas and Paris, Vegas and London, Vegas and Milan. Vegas is a very special place.

Even so, Vegas isn't a place to live as far as I'm concerned. It's either the strip or the suburbs with their cookie cutter housing projects and strip malls though, actually, some of the better casinos are now out in the 'burbs. I'd compare the best buffets in the suburban casinos favorably with the best on the strip.

It had to happen. NW and Kelsey were cuddling, Belle snuggled up against Cliff, and so I looked at my little friend Gina and put my arm around her and we started kissing. Cliff knows that Gina and I have a "special relationship," but this was the first time he'd ever seen us making out.

Things got hotter and heavier with time. Kelsey and NW were necking fiercely, Gina and I were all over each other (though I was conscious to try to position myself so as to preserve a modicum of modesty, given the presence of my younger brother, and Gina realized my concern, for it was hers as well.

Belle was clinging to Cliff like he was a big teddy bear, just soaking up his warmth and goodness, for Cliff is going to be a carbon copy of our lovely and loving father, someone totally good and totally lacking in guile.

I wanted to give it good to Gina, but maybe she was having pity on me since she, at least, had had a night of passion with Ray, her #1 lover, and she knew that Cliff and Belle had claimed each other, at least for the time being. She insisted on being the giver, not the taker.

And so, soon Gina was on her knees between my legs, having pulled my skirt over her head for modesty's sake, for she herself was aware of my brother's presence.

Soon, NW and I were getting fairly discreet head. (In his case, both his and Kelsey's body position and his overcoat kept the cocksucking out of general view.)

My brother's eyes were closed and Belle was cuddling up to him. He stroked her hair. They looked so contented, and that actually made me glad for both of them.

They actually fell asleep in each other's arms, and so Kelsey and NW and Gina and I started going at it in a more public way. Watching someone else have sex can make your own sex so much more exciting, though the intimate, private sex is more meaningful in many ways.

By now, Kelsey had NW's pants and boxer shorts down at his ankles, and she was sucking on his cock vigorously, as though her life depended on it. Seeing NW's big cock in Kelsey's mouth was making me extra hot. She was no longer even trying to be subtle. Not that she was trying to put on a show, but she was just sucking dick like crazy and didn't care who saw.

Gina is a superior cunnilinguist with any girl, but with me, she's an artist, and it's because she knows the things I like and don't like, plus after years of experience with me, she can read all the signals so that her pacing and timing are almost always perfect.

And thus it was that she knew when to wet her thumb in her mouth and let it slide slowly up my asshole, while continuing to lick away on my twat. This gave me a bad case of pleasure chills and goosebumps. I shrugged my shoulders up to my ears and kind of twisted, which she of course knew to be a sign that I was entering a state of ecstasy.

I saw NW ejaculate into Kelsey's mouth, because she reacted to it by opening her mouth enough to let the jizz run down his the shaft and over her fist, which was firmly clenching his cock at its base.

I could see that while Cliff was fast asleep, Belle was half awake momentarily. Just long enough to gently take his hand and put it under her top and right on top of a breast. She clenched it there and her eyes filled with tears.

What the fuck is going on in that head of hers? I suddenly felt like I wanted to distance Cliff from her. He was hurting, too. Perhaps them pairing off wasn't such a great idea after all.

When we got back to NW's place, everyone was rather tired and wasted from the prior day's events...and from having sex. Waking up to find his hand under Belle's top, he quickly pulled it out and blushed when he saw that everyone but Belle was stifling a giggle.

I put my arm around my little brother as we walked into NW's mansion. He started to say "I don't know that I..." but I stopped him with, "You didn't do it. She did." "She did?" I shrugged the shrug that means "Don't ask me! I don't know any more than you do."

I was so tired. I gave Cliff a big familial hug and pecked his cheek. Then, I sent him off to bed.

I got ready for bed, pulled up the covers and drifted off to sleep.

Jill Hill awoke after a night of disturbing dreams to discover that she had been transformed into a hideous vermin.

I awoke from that dream with a violent twitch and a heart pounding like a hammer. Fuck! So, now I'm dreaming Kafka. I wish I'd never read Metamorphosis. I calmed myself and was soon sleeping again.

Until sometime around 4:30 a.m., that is, which is when Belle let out a scream that woke me up with such a start that my heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

I covered up with a robe and, with Kelsey, Gina, and Cliff's heads poking out of their respective doors, knocked on Belle's.

"Enough is enough," I announced loudly. "Let me in."

Of course, Gina, Kelsey, and Belle all know I write for Nympho-Girl, and they don't mind as long as I don't use their real names (and, of course, Jill Hill isn't really mine, either!). While passing the time somewhere on the trip (in Florida, I think), Kelsey proposed that they give me an idea just to see if I could write a story about it. She and Gina bounced a couple ideas back and forth, finally settling on this one: "Someone wakes up to find herself floating."

I wrote the following in about an hour on my laptop computer:

"I hate you!"

Jan hung up the telephone.

As soon as she hung up she felt remorse. Bill had a point. He was right. That is exactly what irritated her. He was always right.

"Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it," she thought. "Why can't I control my temper when I talk to him?"

"Hey, you guys!" She called. Timmy and Barb had a tendency to wander, and if that was bad in Lawrence, Kansas, here in Austria it was terrifying. Thankfully, they had stayed nearby as she'd told them to.

When she accepted her Czech relatives' invitation to visit, Bill had objected. Partly for practical reasons, partly for financial reasons, and partly just to be difficult, she thought. But mostly for financial reasons. They were, as he frequently pointed out, not made of money. They had lots of debt. Tons of debt. But...they were slowly working their way out of it.

He pissed her off, though she knew that really wasn't his intent. She knew she had issues that had to be addressed. She was not the most responsible of people, and Bill, really, was more tolerant than she had a right to expect. He loved her, she knew.

Oh, well...

She would get down to fixing things when she got back. Her brother had given her the card of a good therapist. One who had helped him get a grip on life and had probably prevented his suicide.

"I'll call Bill when I get to Prague," she thought. "I'll patch things up for now. I'm such a fuck-up. I wish I hadn't yelled at him."

Grabbing the kids, Jan walked to the station, picked up her tickets, and walked to the train. Within 30 minutes, it was pulling out of the station. Within an hour it was out in what passed for boonies in this part of the world.

She was planning it all out, that first night back. She'd bought a very sexy teddy in a nice shop in Paris. More than she'd ever spent on lingerie in her life. Not back-breakingly expensive, but enough to make it very special. She knew she looked absolutely spectacular in it. Bill would be unable to resist.

She would make that Beef Wellington recipe her cousin had given her last year. She was trying to cut back on meat, especially red meat, and thus there had been more chicken, fish, veggies, and salads on the table lately, which Bill, as a beef lover, didn't appreciate. She'd have to give a bit there.

She only hoped he'd never find out about that five month fling she'd had with her trainer at the gym. She'd cut it off, but she'd been spotted with him at least once that she knew of. And that by someone she felt would be ready to move in on Bill if she and he ever broke up.

She and the kids played in their compartment. Of course, there was little need to entertain them because riding in a train was so novel in itself. Mostly, they looked out of the window while she perused a French language edition of Vogue. Now and then one or the other would say, "Look, moo cows!" or "Look at the big mountain, Mommy!" She would smile in loving acknowledgement.

It was so important to preserve the marriage. For the kids. She would do whatever it took.

Eventually, they went to the dining car, where the kids didn't seem to like anything other than the dessert, but they were quiet enough for her to enjoy her dinner own of chicken schnitzel, späzle, and white asparagus, all washed down with an outstanding German Gewürztraminer.

The train ride would arrive in Prague fairly early in the morning, so she felt it best to get to bed early, right along with the kids.

That night, Jan woke up. Or...it felt like she was awake. What made her doubt her senses was that she was floating above her bed. She looked, and little Timmy and Barbara were floating in the air as well. Kids don't wake for anything!

Not only that, a lot of their stuff was floating. It was as if gravity had momentarily been suspended.

Strangest of all was that the Moon, which should have been directly above the car and out of view, was shining right through the train window. Which led her to believe this was all a dream.

(The following is excerpted from an Austrian TV report the next morning)

"Well, when the train left the tracks, it did so over one of the deepest gorges in Europe. The entire train was in free fall for at least 15 seconds."

* * * * *

Well, how did I do?

|

Saturday, February 9, 2008
Shortcuts And Rainstorms
The Trip West, Pt. XII

NOTE: New posts go at the top, as in most blogs, but that means that in a story like this, spread over more than one post, you really need to find the first post in the series and read them in order. So, that's what I suggest you do here.

I was the driver the next day. We decided to make Phoenix our next stop. That's about 300 miles from El Paso and would be one of the easier driving days.

Or so we thought.

It was a cloudy and gloomy day. Not at all what one imagines when one thinks about this part of the country. There was an accident on the highway far ahead and traffic was backed up a great distance, just creeping along, so Kelsey, always one to take charge, started poring over the maps and found a detour. It would involve getting off at the next exit and taking some smaller roads.

It took a good 45 minutes at least to reach that exit, and by the time we got off, we were obviously not the only people who wanted to give up on the freeway. The ramp itself took another 20 minutes or so before we were able to make the turn.

The roads were one lane each way, and although they had generous speed limits, we found ourselves behind a caravan of underpowered recreational vehicles. The roads were hilly and twisty and opportunities to pass were rare, and when you're driving a huge bus, you can't think about passing as you would if you had a well-powered passenger car. As a result, we resigned ourselves to chugging along behind a bunch of Winnebago wannabes.

The frustration resulted in some teasing and squabbling behind me. Belle, in particular, who is always used to everything being easy, or made easy, for her, was distraught. I don't know what her problem was: she didn't have to be anywhere at a particular time, and we're driving a vehicle we can live in. Kelsey is almost always calm and Gina is very mature, even if she does look like she's 16 years old.

Kelsey and Gina pored over the maps and asked me to pull over when I got a chance. I found a turnout and parked the bus. The three others were huddled over a couple maps. Kelsey explained that leaving the freeway appeared to have been a mistake. We needed to decide whether to proceed with the plan hoping things would get better or just or turn back and take our chances on the freeway again.

Belle whined impatiently, "God...we're an hour away from the freeway by now." "Not really," said Gina. "Actually, it's taken us an hour to get here, but averaging about 10 or 15 miles per hour. I'd say we could be back at the freeway in 20 minutes, maybe less."

All of a sudden, Belle looked seriously at the map and pointed out something. "What about this road?" We all looked and indeed there was a small road that appeared to be something of a shortcut. Kelsey said, "You do realize that how major a road is is signified by how thick the line is on the map? That line is..." "About as thin as a hair," I finished. The rest of us looked at each other and Gina said, "Well, it's just a short ways up. We could take a look. Jill, if it's a paved road with no traffic, you could take it. What do you guys think?" Kelsey shrugged and agreed and naturally Belle, whose idea it was, agreed.

After about 2 miles of slow going, the road appeared on the left. It looked just fine. It was rather narrow and would require some care when oncoming traffic approached, but otherwise quite good, so I made the turn and off we went.

There never was any oncoming traffic, which was spooky, but I kept driving. After maybe a half hour I came upon a sign saying, "Bad Road Next 3 Miles," and looking ahead, I saw that the asphalt had dried and crumbled and the road would be a bit uneven. Nothing the bus couldn't handle, though I consulted with the girls and the consensus was to keep going. So, we moved along at maybe 5 mph. About 2 miles in the road got even worse. A flash flood had completely washed the asphalt away and I would have to really tippy-toe through that section. Luckily, it was dry so there was no danger of skidding down into the gully below and possibly overturning the bus.

I asked what I should do and Kelsey asked me how I felt about backing up two miles and then turning around. "In no way am I backing this bus up for two miles," I replied. If one of you wants to try that, be my guest." No volunteers came forth.

So, given that forward and backward were the only two options, I crept through that area and was soon back on good road. About five miles down the road was another sign, "Bad Road Next 13 Miles." I stopped the bus and the girls ran up front to see what the problem was. "Oh my God," said Gina, laughing. Kelsey laughed, too. Belle looked sheepish, for she had suggested the route in the first place.

"This shortcut is going to lose us more time than our original detour or if we'd simply waited on the freeway." Nobody said anything, for it was so obviously true and was what everyone was thinking, I'm sure.

I didn't even have to put it up for a vote, there was not much to vote about. No place to turn around and backing up was out of the question, so no one objected when I put the bus into gear and tiptoed along at probably 3 miles per hour. That's roughly correct, because it took about four hours to negotiate those 13 miles, and several times along the way I actually had to stop and the four of us got out and decided which way to take what was left of the road. This meant that sometimes the bus (a very tall bus) negotiated the road at a perilous angle that had me holding my breath and the other girls hiding out (and perhaps praying) in the windowless bunk area where at least no one would be in danger from window glass or of being thrown through a window if the bus did roll.

It was probably an illusion based on my fear, but I could have sworn on several occasions that the left side wheels left the ground and that the bus was balanced on the right side's wheels. Clearly, in the rear view mirror, I didn't see either of the two sets of tires clearly touching the road. I had to remind myself that they were mounted in pairs and that the inner tire was probably making contact.

I got past that patch of bad road, drove a quarter mile or so, and was confronted by an equally bad one. I stopped the bus and sighed a very exasperated sigh. Would there exit from this room in Hell?

Somewhere in there, Belle started apologizing profusely and nonstop. Finally, Kelsey, who had had enough, said to Belle, "Shut the fuck up or I'll rip off your head and shit down your neck!" There was a silence and then we all laughed, even Belle, because it was a reference to a movie we had all seen at one time on one of Ray's private jets: Doctor Detroit, certainly one of the most underrated comedies of recent decades.

"Well," Gina said, breaking the silence, "I guess we now know why there was no oncoming traffic." This was met with a long and uncomfortable silence.

I could see Belle was moping. I had expected Gina to say something to make Belle feel better, and maybe it was because of the shitting down her neck comment, but it was Kelsey who said to Belle, "Come on, cheer up. It was a group decision to go this way. I didn't hear anyone object, and I voted for it myself."

Belle smiled a meager little smile: all was forgiven.

Now...I did mention that it was cloudy and gloomy that day. Here's where we bring that thought back in, because it was at this time that the van shook from a gust of wind. Gina was sitting near a window and looked out. "As though things couldn't get worse" was all she said gloomily. The rest of us went to look over her shoulder, and as we did so, a second big gust plastered so much water on the window that we literally couldn't see out. This was followed by a bright flash and an earsplittingly loud thunderclap.

"Oh, fuck!" I said. "We're going to be here for a while." "Maybe we should make a run for it," said Gina. "Nope," I replied, adding "did you see that washout in front of us? It's at least as bad as the one we just crept through. And now...it's probably at flood stage." I went up and turned on the wipers and we could just barely make out that, indeed, a small creek had formed where the bad road had been. And naturally, what had once been dirt and rocks was now mud, rocks, and flowing water.

"It can't get worse," lamented Kelsey, who added after a slight pause, "can it?" "Well," said Gina, "the water could scour the washout deep enough that we won't be able to get past it." "And," Belle added, "that stream could change course and come our way. We could be in the middle of it." That was a cold, stark possibility that no one could deny.

I then added "We're not going anywhere soon. And with only a third of a tank of gas left, we can't just sit here with the motor running." There was a short silence while Gina said, "We're going dark. Let's shut all the systems down and wait it out."

So, we were in "silent running mode" as Kelsey called it. With what little light came through the window, we played poker for a while and then my cell phone rang. It was my little brother. I call him little. He's not that little. Nor is he slight. He's average height for a guy, about 5'10 or 5'11" I'd guess, with an average build. A pretty face for a guy, but he isn't a sissy boy. He's your Matt Damon type, only a real nerd.

He wanted to talk to his big sister about something, so I excused myself and wandered back to the bedroom at the back of the bus. Laying on my back I heard his laments about his first big love. A freshman enrolled in Cleveland State University, he met her in Philo 101 or something, and they really seemed to connect. They met for coffee several times and even went out on a date, and now, he tells me, she has no time for him, which clearly is causing him so much angst that he had to call his big sister just to talk about it.

Now, this brought back so many memories. Memories almost every one of us has of those first few painful love relationships. He never even mentioned the word "love," and yet clearly his heart was breaking.

I had tell him that I couldn't offer him much hope. I told him that this would likely happen time and time again, this liking of someone who turns out not to be into you...or not into you to the same degree you are into them.

I softened this blow with the assurance we all hear when someone older and wiser wants to console the inexperienced: "There are lots of fish in the sea. You need to spend some time getting some experience." He wanted advice about this particular girl, and I told him that I couldn't tell him anything that would help. That when the time is right and the person is right, both people know it. (Is that true? I thought. I hope so.)

My brother and I are so close. I don't talk about him much here mostly for that reason. I remember when I was maybe 9 or 10 and he was 5 or 6. He would cuddle with me while we watched some kids show. We had to share a room for a few years, and sometimes he'd crawl into bed with me. I always liked it when that happened. He was so much warmer than a teddy bear or doll.

Actually, it was probably my arrival at puberty that forced my parents to look for a home with more than 2 bedrooms. Luckily, my dad's session career was blooming, and he and some musician friends had some fairly regular gigs. My mother was making fairly good money (for a teacher and librarian) and so it was time to move anyway. But when that happened, so did the sleeping in the same bed. And...like I said, I was in puberty and it was no longer really appropriate for that sort of physical intimacy.

But we've never lost the psychological connection.

He began sobbing, and my heart started breaking for him. I got misty sympathetically, and he could hear me sniffle a bit. Like most guys, he wouldn't want to cry in front of his friends, or even mom and dad, but he and I are open books to each other emotionally.

"You'll get past this," I assured him. "If this is the end of the world, you'll experience the end of the world more than once." "I know," he said. "You know, losing a love is a little death. You have to grieve for a while. It's life."

Gina, my closest friend, arrived at the door and tipped her head in the manner that silently asks, "What's up?" I put up a finger in the international "Give me a minute" signal, as I told my brother to hang in there and call me anytime he wanted to. That I could always make time for him. And we said good-bye.

Gina sat down on the bed and I explained the situation to her. We reminisced about some of our own painful experiences when we first started getting involved with boys.

At last, Kelsey yelled, "Hey, you guys, it's getting kind of dark. Got any flashlights or candles?"

Gina replied: "Flashlights won't last long. We do have some candle lamps, though." Actually, there turned out to be quite a few, and soon about five or six such lamps were putting out a pleasant yellow-orange glow."

"Anybody for dinner?" asked Gina. We all agreed we were hungry. Not wanting to open the fridge, because the power was still off and there was no sense in helping its contents to spoil, we heated up some tomato soup and had that with peanut butter and honey sandwiches. One of the most delicious meals I've ever had, probably due to the company I was keeping.

The topic turned to Portland, our ultimate destination, and something was said about that photographer who told Kelsey and me the story about his strange love affair with identical twins. You'll find this story under the title Moonlight and Elise. Belle had never heard the story and so nearly an hour was spent retelling it and discussing it.

Belle, who is easily the most fashion conscious of the group, wanted to know more about Kelsey's career as a model. And so Kelsey told her story, if not from the very beginning, from before her few years as a high fashion model. Kelsey, like Gina and me, came out of the middle class, but the upper middle class. In this country of ours with more than 2 million millionaires, a family well into the six figure is still in the middle class.

I'm sure that my family rarely topped $50,000 then and in a very good year might have approached $60,000. Certainly, $400,000 or $500,000 would have resulted in a very different life for me, but one in which it was unlikely that Gina and I would have grown up together, so I have no regrets.

Here is the story Kelsey told us:

"I grew up in a nice home with busy parents, both of whom were in real estate. They worked in friendly competition with each other for different agencies. Busy as they were, I was not a neglected child. After school, I'd go to one agency or the other, doing homework in their little lunchrooms. I met a number of wonderful people by doing this.

"I've always been tall for my age, and like all tall girls in their teens, I felt lanky and out of place. I felt I stuck out like a sore thumb everywhere I went. There was another agent in my mother's agency. She was herself tall and beautiful, as successful women in real estate often are. A lot of girls, when they become too old to compete in the world of pro modeling, where most of the work goes to gals in the 16 to 25 age range, turn to real estate, because they are still beautiful and, in real estate sales, image is important.

"Her name was Dollie, with an 'ie' at the end. Her real name was Dolores, but she shortened it to Dollie, taking the odd spelling to make it more memorable. She came into the lunchroom one day while I was standing in front of a snack machine. She excused herself, because she knew exactly what she wanted, and was in a bit of a rush.

"She said what, at the time, was the about the worst possible thing for me to hear: 'My, you're tall!' Yeah, I was 16 and about 5'10'. She grabbed a candy bar, tucked it into a pocket in suit jacket, and looked me over again. It was excruciating for me to be looked at all, much less to have my height noticed.

"Then she asked, 'Do have any boobs?' She grabbed me by the hand and took me across the room to a counter with a sink and a mirror. She turned me sideways to the mirror and told me to pull my shoulders back. Suddenly, I had breasts. Another bodily feature I didn't want people looking at.

"'Look at yourself,' she said. I was looking, ashamed. Her next words changed my life: 'You're a very beautiful girl. Don't be ashamed of your body. You're very easy on the eyes. When I was your age, I was a model and I had a lot of fun. You obviously aren't modeling because you don't appreciate your beauty, but, sweetie, you could be making a mint as a model.'

"With that, she left the lunchroom. My shoulders have been back ever since.

"Apparently, Dollie had a chat with my mother, for on the drive home that day, she mentioned that Dollie thought I could be a model. Mom asked me if I wanted to explore that possibility. I was excited by the prospect and said that I very much wanted to explore it.

"Mom had Dollie come by one day. Dad was banished to the den to watch sports (something he normally would be doing anyway), and so the three of us sat down, me feeling like something of an adult for the first time in my life, and over coffee and cookies Dollie told us about her career in New York City as a model for clothing designers, fashion photographers, and occasionally, fashion or lifestyle magazines.

"My mother asked if I should maybe go to a modeling school, like the one Barbizon offers, and Dollie's advice was not to spend a penny on any kind of modeling course because, 'If an agency feels you can make money for them, they will invest in you. Modeling schools are a rip-off.

"'Realistically, what kind of opportunities can Kelsey have as a model? How much money can she make?' Her reply stunned us both. 'In Kelsey,' she said, 'I see the possibility of a career well beyond the one I had. I modeled for designer catalogs, mostly. Kelsey can be a runway model, I believe. She could be making more money than you and your husband combined.'

"My mom was, to say the least, dumbfounded.

"But then Dollie added, 'Remember, though, that she can do that only until her mid-20's, when younger women will be in greater demand. And if her boobs get to be more than a small B-cup in size (I was still an A-cup then), no more high-fashion modeling, either. At that point, you start modeling lingerie or you work for Hugh Hefner or Larry Flynt. Or...' she smiled, 'then it's time to get out of modeling.'

"Dollie's husband is a talented amateur photographer. She had him take me downtown and out to parks and attractive business campuses to be photographed against interesting backdrops. She sent these photos to friends of hers in New York. People who had left modeling to work for agencies, and two of them expressed interest in me.

"Dollie helped us select one. They flew me and mom out to New York. Mom had been to NYC before, but it was my first time, and when your idea of a big city has been Cleveland, Detroit, or Pittsburgh, the sheer scale of NYC can be both scary and exciting. I suddenly realized what was meant by 'If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.' Everybody is moving so fast. I saw on the Discovery Channel or Nova or something that there is actually a correlation between the size of a city and the speed with which people walk.

"They were very enthusiastic during my audition or interview, whatever you want to call it. My mother was so glad for me. The idea of modeling was bringing me out of my shell and making me proud of my body. I was suddenly enjoying the attention I received for being tall.

"One thing led to another and soon I was working with well-known photographers, modeling clothing designed by famous couturiers for shows in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles.

"Then, my mother was asked if I could travel to Europe, which would mean traveling across the ocean without a parent reasonably handy. Living on the West Coast, as was the case, I could always get home on a mere four-hour flight. From Milan or Paris, just to New York is about 6 or 8 hours minimum, then four more (after what might be a fairly long layover) to get home. It was a big decision, but by this time I was seventeen and in a few months I'd legally allowed to make my own decisions anyway, so they decided to give me my first taste of real freedom and let me go.

"The agency's partners in Europe had me going to shows in London, Paris, Madrid, and Milan. I did no more than one show a week, and with meetings about the show and traveling, there were about four or five days of total freedom every week.

"I was going to college via a correspondence program. Both mother and Dollie had drilled into me the fact that modeling was something a girl did for a while, after which she has to be prepared to do something else. And so...I studied business and management, a choice which has served me well.

"Anyway, I was under pressure to become even thinner than I was, so I had to give up grass as my recreational drug of choice because, as we all know, it gives one the munchies. Instead, sad to say, I turned to coke which burns off calories like crazy, mainly by increasing one's metabolism and activity level.

"It also impairs one's judgment and makes one do things one otherwise wouldn't do and take risks one otherwise wouldn't take.

"One of the dirty little secrets of high fashion modeling has to do with the fact that one frequently sees those girls on the arms of filthy rich men. They aren't there because they think those guys are swell guys, they're paid arm candy, and typically there is an agreement, spoken or unspoken, that the men can have their way with the women sexually, too.

"That's right. Many top models are basically engaged in legal hookery, engaging, basically, in sex for money. However, since it's disguised as dating (a euphemism hookers and escorts use as well, with less legal success), they are not generally thought of as sluts.

"Soon, I found myself going to two or three parties a week. Parties where coke and other drugs, heroin included, were quite available. Men who wanted sex would come armed with drugs, and generally were able to buy a blow job or an overnighter for the cost of some coke or pills.

"Oh...I did my share of legal prostitution. Coke can make a pot-bellied middle-aged industrialist look like Matt Damon. Not that all of them were that repulsive. I even fell in love a couple times, but I wasn't thinking clearly. Men don't marry women they've paid to have sex with, so those never turned out well in any way. Any hint I was becoming attached and they'd fade on me. It was during this period that I had my fling with the Italian director, which I know I've told you before.

"That's when I discovered sex with women. I'm basically heterosexual, but like most gals I can be bisexual, and I soon discovered that fooling around with the girls I worked with tended to be less emotionally draining. They wanted the same thing I did: uncomplicated fucking. You can have sex with another female and she doesn't have to feel like she owns you.

"Things went pretty well for three years or so, and then I started getting less work. I had continued to grow and by the time I was 6 feet tall, I was taller than most of the designers wanted. Plus, and even bigger problem was developing. By binding my tits, I was able to hide the fact that my boobs were growing for quite some time, but by the time I had to give in and buy my first C-cup bra, gigs were not coming nearly as often as they had a year or two before. Even though the rest of me was actually a little underweight, my boobs insisted on ballooning until, one day, someone from the agency laid it on the line: I'd get no more couturier work unless I got breast reduction. They did offer me the option of doing lingerie modeling for the likes of Victoria's Secret.

"I went home and sat down with my mother and father and told them what I'd been told and asked for their thoughts. They said, almost in unison, the words that changed my life a second time: 'Honey, you're perfect just the way you are.'

"And so I quit modeling and haven't looked back. I decided not to even go the lingerie route because sooner or later that would be wrong for me, too. I needed a career that relied on my education and intelligence, not just my body."

Then, Belle said, "What's that sound?"

The deluge and wind had died down considerably, and now underneath the pitter-patter of the rain and the occasional whir of wind was a new sound. A rushing water sound. I think we all were simultaneously terrified at what it might mean.

While the motor was off and it was quite dark except for candlelight by then, the bus has certain systems that are always at the ready, one of them being external lighting all the way around. I went to the driver's seat, sat down, and felt around for the switch, which I had seen but hadn't used before. It took about a minute, but finally found it and suddenly we could see what was going on. As I remember it, we said "Oh shit!" in almost perfect unison.

The bus was in the middle of moving water. The sound we had heard was the sound of the water going under the bus with the occasional splash hitting the side or underside of the bus.

Kelsey said, "We are so fucking screwed!" Gina looked out, concerned but silent. Belle sat down in a corner looking like she might suck her thumb any second. I'm sure I was white as a sheet. I don't recall saying much other than that we had no choice but to wait it out.

For a half hour or so it got worse and we could hear that water was now actually hitting the body of the bus full on and not merely going under it.

Gina said, "Put out the candles." "Why?" asked Belle. I said, "If the bus rolls or slides, we could be trapped inside a bus that's on fire, that's why." "Oh," she said, her eyes wide with terror.

We sat around the kitchen table silently looking at each other in the moonlight, for by now the storm was over and all we could do was hope that the water would subside as well, which it did.

I said, "Gina, maybe you should tell Ray what's going on here." "Yeah," she said. She checked her cell phone and said, "No service." I tried mine, which had worked earlier, and it had no service, either. Nobody's cell phone worked, meaning that the storm had probably taken out the nearest cell tower.

Luckily, this superbus had its own satellite communication system. It was safe to light candles again, so we lit up and Gina broke out the manual for the radio, which I read to her as she looked the radio over, identified the various controls, and rehearsing what she would have to do.

After a couple minutes of false starts, she finally got through to someone who could patch her through to Ray, her boyfriend. Ray owns a huge executive jet service, which had made him rich. All I could hear was our end of the conversation, but it went like this:

"Ray, hi. Listen...(pause) Yeah, I know. Oh, the bus has GPS. (pause) You know where we are. Well, that's comforting. Well, yeah, we made a bad choice trying to take a shortcut and we're... (pause) Yeah, we are stuck on a stretch of road between two bad washouts that would have been rough going as it was, until a storm... (pause) Oh, you're aware of that as well. Anyway, if getting off the road was going to be a nail-biter before the storm, I think it can't possibly get much better now that everything is wet and muddy and washed out even more than before. So... (pause) Oh, can you? Will you? Tomorrow before noon? Great. Love ya, sweetie! Yeah, me too."

When she signed off, she saw that we were all looking at her expectantly. "He's fixing things. Tomorrow." "How?" asked Kelsey. "He didn't say," she replied. She didn't need to say more. Ray is a billionaire, and just knowing he was on the case pretty much guaranteed a fix of some sort.

Belle, whose parents are billionaires, too (her father being Ray's brother), was reassured that a billionaire was on the case, and even better her uncle Ray, who she probably respected even more than her own absentee parent dad. For the first time in hours, she was fairly relaxed.

Looking at her watch, Kelsey noted that it was well past midnight by then and that we didn't know to expect in the morning or when it would start, so that maybe it would be a good idea to go to bed. The rest of us agreed, and somehow by unspoken consent, we all, taking the candles with us, went back to the bedroom in the back of the bus, which was intended for two people. It was a queen-sized bed.

We were all so tensed up and needed so much relief that the sex started almost immediately.

It was an all-girl orgy for the record books. Everybody had sex with everybody. Change partners and dance. I'm sure I licked every pussy, and I clearly remember burying my face in Kelsey's ample tits while Belle fingered my asshole. Whatever Gina was doing to Belle was enjoyable judging by Belle's moaning.

Later, I looked over while licking Belle's perfect little asshole to see Gina fisting Kelsey. The next time I looked, Kelsey was fisting Gina's pussy. (Little girl, big pussy!) They had a good time for a while, but I wanted to fuck Gina for a while, too, so I extended a hand and touched hers. She looked my way. Kelsey saw this, slowly extracted her hand from Gina, and she traded places with me.

Gina is my oldest active sex partner. We started having sex in junior high, and sex with her is as comfortable as it gets. Plus, I love her to death and she loves me. It's always special with her. It's "making love" in the full sense of the word, and so I just wrapped my legs around her and hugged her tiny little body to mine, whispering "I love you so much" in her ear, to which she replied "I love you, too."

She clung to me like a child for a while, but then lust got the best of us and we got into tribbing position. For those of you unfamiliar with this term, it's the word for when two girls grind their pussies against each other, and yes, we can get orgasms that way. I've done most of my tribbing with Gina and we're well-practiced at it. So...we had to hold back from orgasm several times so as to make the fun last.

That worked for a while, but finally I found myself looking at Belle's gorgeous pink pudendum (she was engaged in sucking on Kelsey's boobs at the time and her legs were akimbo). That made me a little extra excited. Gina noticed this, smiled, and knew it was time to finish things off. Watching me and pacing herself perfectly, we both came pretty much simultaneously, making a little wet spot in the sheet.

Belle and Kelsey finished each other off while Gina and basked in the afterglow.

That done, we all went to sleep, Kelsey and Gina in the big bed, and once again I took Belle into a bunk with me.

I woke up at one point in the middle of the night. I guess Belle had awakened me, for she was shaking. Shaking and sobbing with her back to me. I stroked her hair and asked, "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Nothing," she said, seemingly shrugging it off.

Yeah, right.

|

Another Flood Of Sexy Flix & Pix

SapphicErotica has dished out anothe huge helping of masturbation material which I'm passing along o you for your late evening enjoyment. So, get your little bottle of Astroglide ready and turn up the mood music and get down to business because, as is always the case, the chicks they choose for their SapphicErotica, InFocusGirls, and OnlyCuties sets are super sexy!

SapphicErotica Movies	InFocus Girls Movies	Only Cuties Movies
Horny teens deeply dildo to orgasms Gorgeous honeys have sex outside Golfing trio has sex on the green Adorable teen trio licks and dildos Lustful lesbians dildo to orgasms Dazzling vixens make love outside Lithe teens finger fuck each other Bewitching hotties have sex in bed Sunbathing trio licks and fingers Enticing lesbians in strapon romp Lustful teens in bedroom threesome Brunette vixens lap and toy in bed Cute teens in steamy office oral Five sizzling ladies in wild orgy Captivating brunettes dildo outside Horny teen trio fingers tight twats Sporty ladies in torrid sixtyniner Sunbathing hotties eagerly tongue Three gorgeous ladies in patio orgy Three stunning teens lap and finger Cute teens wildly finger and dildo Lustful teen cuties lap and finger Dazzling sunbathers lap and finger Sultry picnickers have sex outside Sizzling honeys in poolside loving Teen trio eat fresh pink pussies Brunette cuties tongue and finger Tantalizing trio lick and toy holes Petite blondes in hot bedroom oral Blazing vixens attack wet pussies	Angelic blonde vigorously dildos Hot teen fucks huge dildo in pool Adorable teen dildos slit outdoors Pigtailed hottie fingers outside Hot brunette fucks massive dildo Mesmerizing beauty fingers outside Ravishing vixen dildos on counter Beautiful honey dildos twat outside Lithe blonde rubs and fucks sybian Busty honey bangs banana in kitchen Petite hottie dildos on springboard Exotic hottie fucks rabbit dildo Bewitching beauty dildos in garden Lustful blonde vibes quim to orgasm Sublime blonde fondles in hot tub Gorgeous vixen fucks buzzing dildo Sultry blonde dildos in the pool Dazzling vixen fingers on balcony Captivating vixen dildos in garden Brunette vixen wildly fucks banana Sultry brunette dildos wet snatch Gorgeous brunette fingers poolside Brunette rubs and dildos wet twat Lounging vixen toys pussy to climax Brunette vixen rubs and dildos twat Hot blonde bangs huge dildo in pool Stunning beauty vigorously fingers