Sadly, it was Michaela's laughter that finally caused us to separate; when I turned to look down at her, I could see the surprise she felt at the sudden draft, and the mild embarrassment she was experiencing as my cum started to leak out of her. Responding to the expression on her face, I readily moved off of her so that she could cup her mons with her hand as she quickly scrambled off of the bed and headed for the bathroom.
She reappeared a couple of minutes later, blushing slightly as she told us "Um, I kinda forgot about that part…"
Following her example, I moved off the bed and headed for the bathroom to clean myself off in the hope that Michelle might want to have a go with me, too. When I was done, I left the bathroom to find that all three of them were in something of a huddle, whispering among themselves. With my reappearance, all of them sat up straight again; the guilty looks I got told me that I'd likely been the subject of their discussion.
As I moved toward the bed, it was Michelle that said "If… if you're not too… tired, we'd like to stay for a while more. We were kind of, uh, talking, and we decided that we could learn a few things from you. Besides sex stuff, I mean…"
I raised an eyebrow in question, and Faye told me "We figure that you've got your sh-stuff together a whole lot more than we thought at first, and that you're actually a pretty good person, so we were hoping that maybe you'd be okay with us just, you know, talking for a little while. And if you, uh, feel like it, we could even do some other stuff."
Despite the amusement I felt at hearing them, I managed to keep a straight face as I answered "Sure, we can do that. What did you want to talk about?"
They waited until I got myself situated on the bed before Michaela hesitantly suggested that they'd like to hear what I had to think about boys and girls and relationships.
That got us started on a conversation that lasted for over an hour and a half; along the way, each of the twins decided that they wanted to sit next to where I was leaning back against the headboard; from there, it wasn't much longer before each was leaning against my side. Faye seemed perfectly content to sit either cross-legged in front of me, or, later, straddling my lap.
There was a brief respite when I went out to get us some sodas and munchies from a nearby convenience store; when we'd finished those, Michelle let me know that she'd decided she wanted to try making love with me; Faye and Michaela kept each other occupied while we were occupied. Michelle had the same problem getting me inside that her sister did, but asked for my help instead of Faye's. Once we got started, Michelle proved to be as willing and eager as her sister had, with pretty much the same results.
My time with the three of them ended much as it had started: with the twins pleasuring each other while Faye and I watched. The exception was that rather thank Faye mounting herself on me when she got excited, she positioned herself over my head – after receiving my promise not to do to her what I'd done to the others.
When I finally declared that I really, truly did have to get home so I could feed my cat and get at least some rest before work the next day, all three of them happily kissed me goodnight, and expressed how glad they were that I'd been the one to rescue them.
I never saw any of them again, but I'll always remember them – and particularly the twins! – with fondness and gratitude.
Chapter 9
I'd just called in to Dispatch to let them know that I was starting my shift one morning when they came back and told me that one of the local high-end hotels had called and asked if I'd be available for a 'flat rate' fare. A fare like that is one where the cab (and driver, of course) were hired for a period of time to work 'off the meter' – payment was to be a fixed amount for whatever was to be done for however long it took. Usually, a flat-rate gig is something of a crapshoot: it could be anything from just driving partiers around so none of them risks a DUI, to helping some disabled or elderly person go out and do their weekly shopping at a number of different stores. The trick was to know (or have some idea, anyway) of the who, what, and how long, and balance that against the pay. Driving a couple of partiers around for 3 or 4 hours for a hundred bucks was better than getting a granny-lady that wanted to you to spend all day taking her all over town to shop and expecting you to do all of her hauling and carrying for fifty. Too, the partiers were a lot more likely to come up with a nice tip than the granny; that's just the way things work. But the place that had asked for me was the best hotel in town, so the risk of getting a crap deal was a lot lower – almost nonexistent, even.
So I told Dispatch I'd take it, and headed that way. When I got there, the manager of the place was waiting for me at the front desk. We weren't buddy-buddy, but we had developed a liking and respect for each other. As I got close, he gestured that I should follow him a little ways away from the desk, which I did. Once we had a little quiet and privacy, he told me what the deal was.
"Jim, we've got a guest from out of town that wants to go out and do some shopping. The problem is that the car we had reserved for her from the limo service got into an accident last night, and there simply isn't anything else available – from anybody. Now, we've explained the problem to the guest, and she understands and doesn't have any problem with taking a cab. But the limo company and us, we don't want her to have to be sitting around waiting for her next ride to show up, either; she's a very special guest for us and the limo company. So what we came up with was to set her up with one cabbie, and your name was at the top of the list. I know you do good work anyway, but I want to make sure you understand that this lady is extra special."
Curious, I had to ask "What makes her so special?"
"Money. Lots and lots of it. She comes in here several times a year, stays in our best suite for a week or so, does some shopping, and then she's gone again for a while. She's a damn good tipper, if that helps any."
The subject of tips gave me the excuse to ask what the fare would be; the answer I got back would mean that I made half again what I'd normally make in a day. That, more than anything, convinced me that the manager of the hotel and the limo company were serious about wanting to keep her happy.
"Okay, she's somebody you want to keep, I understand that. But what do I do to earn this? Besides drive her around, I mean."
"Not a hell of a lot, Jim. The places she's likely to want to go shopping, they all deliver, so there won't be any carrying stuff. She might want you to keep her company in some of the places, and even ask what you think about a few things, but mostly it'll just be driving her around and making sure she stays happy with all of us."
I at least knew of the higher-end stores in town, the ones that would deliver. From what I understood, nearly all of them were clothing places that tailored purchases to a customers measurements – thus their willingness to deliver the finished item. If this woman was shopping in those stores, I could be fairly confident of getting a better than usual tip if I did my job right.
I agreed to the deal, and the manager looked pleased before he gave me the details by saying "The woman's name is Kathryn McGreevy. She's forty-ish, and her husband was some high-dollar financial type before he got killed in an airplane accident – in his private plane. She's got more money that God, but she isn't snooty or demanding or anything like that; she's pretty nice, actually. But for God's sake, Jim, don't let that make you start thinking she'll put up with anything, either. She's a good tipper for good service, but she isn't bashful about letting folks know when she isn't happy, either! There's a store in town that she won't go to any more because one of the clerks told her when she could pick up something she'd bought, instead of asking where she wanted it delivered to."