“Ohhh! Jesus Christ!” Molly cried as Laura began to do this.
“That’s right,” Jake said. “Keep up that finger action inside the pussy and gradually increase the sucking to licking ratio over in favor of straight-on sucking.”
Two minutes later, Molly was screaming out to the deity, her legs wrapped tightly around Laura’s neck.
“Keep on target!” Jake encouraged. “Use your free hand to restrain her pelvic thrusts!”
Molly’s spasms died down and she let her legs relax, freeing Laura from her embrace.
“Oh my God,” Molly panted. “That was incredible.”
Jake and Laura looked at each other. Jake held up a hand to her. She high fived him with a hand that was still dripping with Molly’s vaginal secretions.
Jake left the room shortly after, taking his pants, underwear, and shoes with him. He told the ladies to enjoy the rest of the evening together.
“I’m think I’m going to go have a drink and a cigar out on the deck,” he said, “and reflect upon my evening.”
“But ... well ... I think that Molly and I still have a few things we want to do, right Molly?”
“Yeah,” Molly said. “Quite a few things, in fact.”
“I’ll give you two your privacy,” he said. “I’ve seen what I needed to see.”
“Oh ... well ... okay,” Laura said. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I’m sure I don’t mind,” Jake said.
He closed the door behind him and went upstairs to put on a pair of sweatpants. He then poured himself a scotch on the rocks and pulled a cigar out of the humidor. As he walked out to the deck, he heard the sound of moans coming out of the guest bedroom and he smiled.
Life was good.
Chapter 21: Life is Good
37,000 feet above the Gulf of Mexico
January 1, 1996
Laura Kingsley and Celia Valdez sat side by side in the first row of the first-class section of the United Airlines Boeing 777 as it flew from Los Angeles to Miami. The plane had lifted off from LAX at 7:30 AM Pacific time and was scheduled to land at MIA at 3:05 PM Eastern time; just over thirty minutes from now. Occupying a good chunk of the other first-class seats on the aircraft were the members of Celia’s band. Coop and Charlie were sitting together two rows back, Coop pretending to sleep while Charlie chewed his nails. Little Stevie, the young lead guitarist and Liz Watertown, the middle-aged pianist, were sitting together in another row, talking softly; apparently still under the illusion that no one knew the two of them had been engaged in an on again-off again sexual affair since shortly after the first tour had started. In yet another row, Eric Pale, the new violinist, sat staring out the window at the clouds and water below, his face nervous but composed. Sitting next to him was Larry Candid, the tour manager, who was extremely worried about his seatmate’s ability to control his anxiety before the show tonight. Celia had forbidden the strange and creepy young man from taking any of his Xanax within eight hours of stepping onto the stage, acting on the theory that it could affect his performance. Candid had a large supply of the benzodiazepine drug in his emergency kit and Eric had been given one just as they had boarded the plane, but he could have no more until after the show.
Laura had been asleep in her seat since the plane had leveled off three and a half hours earlier. She sat with her head tilted sideways, soft, girly snores coming out of her mouth every now and then. Celia herself had dozed on and off during the flight, but Laura had not moved a bit. Celia had noticed how exhausted her sax player had been back at the airport, with bags under her eyes and a weary look on her face.
“Late night?” Celia had asked her then.
This question produced a smile from the redhead. “Yeah,” she replied. “You could say that.”
She offered no further details and Celia had not asked. She assumed that Laura and Jake had stayed up late having one last session of steamy sex before parting for several months. She and Greg certainly had, although she was nowhere near as tired from the experience as Laura seemed to be. Maybe it was because Laura wasn’t a morning person.
Laura finally stirred and woke up when the plane started to descend. She opened her eyes, sat up straight, yawned a little, and then wiped the drool off of her face with the back of her hand. She looked out the window for a moment, saw the gulf coast of Florida approaching in the distance, and then turned back to look at her seatmate.
“Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” Celia said lightly. “Nice of you to join us.”
“Wow,” Laura said, yawning again. “Are we really almost there?”
Celia nodded. “Should be on the ground in about twenty minutes, I would think.”
“Nice,” Laura said. “I guess I was kind of tired.”
“I guess so,” Celia agreed.
“I gotta pee,” Laura said. “I’d better go do it now before they turn the seatbelt signs on.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Celia said.
Laura unbuckled herself and then stood up slowly. Celia clearly saw her wincing as she performed the maneuver and then wincing again as he squeezed herself in front of Celia’s legs and out into the aisle. She continued to watch as she stepped gingerly forward and opened the door of the first-class bathroom and stepped inside. She was in there for the better part of five minutes, until the captain announced that the flight crew were going to be collecting all cups and plates and that everyone should buckle in and return their seats to the upright position. When she finally emerged, it was clear she was limping a little bit. And when she sat back down in her seat, she displayed another wince of pain.
“You okay, Teach?” Celia asked her.
“Yeah,” Laura said, buckling in gingerly. “I’m just a little sore.”
“Really now?” she said with a grin. “A good kind of sore?”
“One of the best,” Laura told her with a smile. “Although I think I’m going to have to pop some Tylenol or something before we hit the stage.”
“I’m sure Larry has some in his little black bag,” Celia said. “How late were you and Jake up last night?”
Laura blushed a little. “Uh ... well ... we were up until ... I guess it was close to two in the morning.”
“Two in the morning?” Celia said incredulously. “Madres de Dios, Teach. And you had to get up at ... what? Five-thirty or so?”
“Five-fifteen,” she said sourly.
“Well now,” Celia said, shaking her head a little. “I guess you had a lot of fun then.”
She nodded, a mischievous little smile on her face. “Yeah,” she said dreamily. “There was a lot of fun to be had last night.” She looked around as if to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation and then, in a low voice: “It wasn’t just me and Jake that had fun.”
Celia’s eyes widened. Is she talking about what I think she’s talking about? “Really now?” she asked, her voice low as well.
Laura nodded. “Do you remember me telling you about ... you know ... the little agreement that Jake and I have?”
“You mean ... uh ... the agreement about you being able to ... uh ... explore the softer things in life?”
“That’s the one,” Laura said. “And ... uh ... last night ... we had a guest over.”
“A guest?” Celia asked, interested. She is talking about what I think she’s talking about. Holy Mother of God! “When you say ‘we’, do you mean that Jake was there too?”
“He was,” she said.
“Wow. Who was the guest?”
“If I tell you,” Laura whispered, “you have to promise to keep this to yourself.”
“Of course,” Celia promised. “Is it someone I know?”
Laura nodded. She took another quick look around and then leaned a little closer to Celia. “It was Molly.”
Celia was surprised, and more than a little aroused by this revelation. “Molly?” she whispered. “Eric’s landlord? The one we met on Christmas?”