"So, more than likely, you're going?" Helen asked.
"Yeah," Jake said. "More than likely."
"And how long would you be gone if you went?" she asked.
"About four months," Jake said.
"That's not so bad," Helen said.
"No," agreed Kim. "Not bad at all."
They flew on and there was no more discussion about the upcoming tour. At 3:17 PM, just four minutes behind the ETA he'd filed in his flight plan, Jake brought them in for a neat landing at Bodega Bay's single airport.
"You must've had a great teacher," Helen said proudly as he turned onto the taxiway and headed for the small general aviation terminal.
"She was all right," Jake said with a shrug. "She had good material to work with."
There was no limousine service in Bodega Bay — which boasted a population of less than a thousand — nor was there any taxi service. There was a rental car service at the airport, however, and Jake had reserved them a Ford Taurus, the best vehicle available in their fleet.
They piled in and drove to The Tides Hotel, which was reputed to be the finest in town. There they ran into a small group of reporters and photographers, eager to snap pictures and shout questions at the foursome as they entered the hotel.
"Will you and Helen be staying in the same room, Jake?"
"What are your plans here in Bodega Bay? Are you going fishing?
"What about the rumors that the four of you are swingers? Any truth to that?"
They no commented their way into the lobby and checked in. Jake, as host of the trip, paid for the two adjoining suites with his credit card. They were given the keys and they went upstairs.
The suites were not the most elaborate they had ever been in, but they weren't bad. They had sitting rooms, large showers, and even hot tubs. The view was impressive enough. The front windows looked out over the harbor and all of the fishing boats at anchor there.
"Are they going to break into our room again and take stuff out of my purse?" Helen asked as they unpacked their clothing and put away their toiletries.
"No, I don't think we'll have to worry about that anymore," Jake said. "I'm pretty sure the word got around through whatever network these hotels use that there are consequences to invasion of privacy."
The consequences he was referring to had been rather severe for the Faraday Hotel chain. They had not gone unpunished for their lack of discretion during Jake and Helen's visit. Within days of the debacle that had kicked off the public's fascination with Helen, Pauline had managed to organize an official boycott of any Faraday Hotel anywhere in the world by any musical group signed with any of the three major American recording labels. Jake, in order to punctuate the point, had used his friendship with Celia Valdez to ask a favor of her fiancé, Greg Oldfellow. Greg was a prominent member of the Screen Actor's Guild and, with his support, the SAG had voted to similarly boycott the Faraday chain. No SAG member would patronize the establishment on either personal or business related trips. Because of these actions — which had been well-publicized as they were occurring — Ronald Dithers, the "anonymous hotel employee" had been discovered to be the source of the leak. He was fired from his job and the Omaha Police Department had actually opened an investigation into his actions, promising criminal charges would be filed if the evidence proved worthy of them.
"Yes, that was great, wasn't it?" Helen asked dreamily. "It made me feel powerful that all of that was done on my behalf."
"There are some perks to being famous," Jake said.
"It almost made the whole humiliating experience worthwhile."
"I suppose," Jake said. "Care for some wine?" A complimentary bottle of Sonoma County Chardonnay had been left chilling in an ice bucket for their pleasure.
"Hell yeah," she said with a smile. "Let's drink it right out of the bottle while we're in the hot tub."
Jake smiled. "I like the way you think."
They sat naked in the hot tub and drank the bottle of Chardonnay, passing it back and forth and swigging directly from the neck. When it was empty, they retired to the bedroom and enjoyed a forty-five minute session of steamy, no-holds-barred sex in which Helen demonstrated her squirting ability twice — once all over Jake's face and once all over his crotch. He did not wear a condom during the act and at its completion he ejaculated directly inside of her, taking her on her word that she was on the pill.
They drifted off to sleep afterward, napping for the better part of two hours. They then took a shower together and enjoyed another quickie under the hot spray. After dressing, Jake called Matt on the phone and they made plans for dinner. Not wanting to subject themselves to the public, they ordered room service sent up. In addition to the food, Jake had them send up three more bottles of Chardonnay for him and Helen and a bottle of Jack Daniels and a twelve pack of Coke for Matt and Kim.
They ate in Jake's room, gathering around the large dining room table. The food was decent, especially after they enjoyed an appetizer of potent greenbud. After dropping the dirty dishes into the hall, they stayed at the table, drinking and talking.
"All right," Helen said after about her eleventh glass of wine, "I've got to ask you this, Kim."
"What do you gotta ask?" Kim said, slurring badly. She was working on her ninth Jack and Coke and had just finished off the roach left over from the pre-dinner joint.
"I know people ask you this all the time," Helen said, "and you usually give them vuge... uh vag... uh..."
"Vague?" Jake provided.
Helen laughed drunkenly. "That's it!" she yelled. "Vague! They usually give you vague answers."
"You mean I usually give them vague answers?" Kim asked.
The two women cracked up, hugging each other for a moment. Jake and Matt were both kind of turned on when they saw their breasts push together during the gesture.
"Anyway," Helen said when they broke apart. "What I wanna know... and know truthfully, is... are those real orgasms you do, or are they fake?"
"The ones on screen?" Kim asked.
"Yeah," she said. "I saw that movie you did."
"Which one?" Kim asked.
"Bed, Butt, and Breakfast," Helen said.
"Oh yes," Kim said nostalgically. "I was almost nominated for an Oscar for that one, you know."
This caused another round of laughter, another hug, another accidental but highly arousing collision of the two women's large breasts.
"So give," Helen said. "Are you coming on screen, or not?"
"Sadly, not," Kim said. "I'm just a really good actress."
Helen was disillusioned. "Not even once?" she asked.
Kim shook her head. "Not even once," she confirmed. "Mattie, tell 'em what I'm like when I really come."
"Quiet as a fuckin' mouse," Matt said. "She hardly makes a sound."
"Really?" Jake asked. He was a little disillusioned himself.
"Yep," Matt confirmed. "It kind of caught me off-guard the first time. After a while though, I kind of got to like it. Her pussy does this spasming thing when she's coming. I mean... well... all bitches do that to some degree, but with her... damn. It's like you're caught in some kind of machine."
"Wow," Jake said. He had assumed that Kim would be kind of loose in the vagina since her job was to take outrageously large penises inside of it.
"Did Jake ever tell you what I do when I come?" Helen asked, not wanting to be outdone.
Matt and Kim were immediately interested.
"No," Matt said. "What do you do?"
"Do tell," said Kim.
"Are you sure you want to tell them about that, Helen?" Jake asked.
"Hey, we're all friends here, right?" Helen said. She looked at the guitar player and the porn star. "I'm a squirter," she said.
"No fuckin' shit?" Matt yelled, excited.
Helen looked to Jake for confirmation of this phenomenon.