Chapter 26: Good for the Soul

31,000 feet above Apache National Forest, Arizona

April 16, 2000

Meghan Zachary sat in her usual seat next to the window on the flight out of Phoenix the next afternoon. Massa sat in his usual seat next to her. They held hands as they flew high over the remote rugged mountains of eastern Arizona. The plane bumped and bounced considerably in the unstable air and she could feel Massa’s hand squeeze hers in reflex every time they hit a particularly nasty patch of clear-air turbulence. This was, by a significant margin, the bumpiest flight the tour had been on so far.

“Doing okay?” she asked him gently after the latest jolt—this one violent enough that Lucky, who was seated in front of their position, exclaimed “Gud-damn, homies!” to the pilots. “Ya’ll need some shock absorbers on this motherfucker!”

“This is just a little scary,” Massa told her nervously.

“Well ... as Jake would say,” she told him, “try not to worry too much. They hardly ever crash this thing.”

He gave her a weak smile and then went back to looking straight ahead so he would not accidentally catch a glimpse out the window. It was not only the ground far below that scared him, but the way the wings flexed and bent with each jolt. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze and then leaned back into her seat a little more. She was a seasoned veteran of air travel at this point and the turbulence did not bother her. She had been through worse in Jake’s plane.

She did enjoy holding Massa’s hand and being next to him, however. Although it seemed obvious to her that he did not think of her in that way (and why would he? He was a rock musician that played with Jake Kingsley before thousands of people every night and she was just a lowly nanny), there was still a connection of friendship between the two of them. On the plane rides they always sat together and when the plane was not bouncing around like a pinball on bonus play, he usually chatted with her, telling her about his childhood, his musical interests, his love of art and the Star Wars franchise. She, in turn, had told him of her upbringing and her college days—leaving out that one particular spring break trip—and how she had drifted off her path and into the path of Jake and Laura and Caydee. She did not invite him to go swimming or to do anything else with her on their off-days or off-nights anymore. She had gotten the message quite well when he had broken that first date with her. He liked her as a friend but was not interested in a romantic relationship with her.

She sighed a little as she pondered the day ahead. The flight was short (most of the flights for the tour would be under ninety minutes, some were only twenty to thirty minutes) and they would be landing in Albuquerque in another thirty minutes or so, just before noon. There was no show scheduled for tonight so Jake and Laura would stay in charge of Caydee until tomorrow afternoon when they left for their meet and greets and radio station interviews. Jake and Laura were planning to take Caydee to the Sandia Peak Tramway just outside of town, ride the tram to the top of the peak, do some hiking up there, and then have dinner in the restaurant that looked out over the city below. They had invited Meghan to join them but she declined. In the first place, the thought of the tram terrified her. Mostly, however, she just needed a little time away from Caydee. She loved the little girl to death but caring for her could be exhausting and breaks from the routine were much appreciated.

This gave her a full day and night off. And there was absolutely nothing for her to do. She knew nothing about Albuquerque and what was fun there (other than the tramway). She had access to a rental car at each stop along the way if she wanted or needed one, but she did not think she would even bother. Most likely she would just hang out in her room in the suite they would be staying in, reading, watching a little TV, and maybe playing with herself (again!) in the bathtub at some point. True, it might sound a little depressing to some, but she was a homebody by nature.

They passed over the last of the eastern slopes of the mountain range below and the ride smoothed out considerably. The sound of the engines decreased and she felt the fluttering in her stomach that came with the sensation of descent.

“On the way down,” she told Massa, giving his hand another squeeze.

“My favorite part of every flight,” he said with a little sigh of relief.

“What are you going to do today?” she asked him, not trying to home in on him or anything, just making conversation.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I might just catch up on my sleep a little. Touring is kind of tiring. I’m not sure why, because we get at least eight hours for sleeping every night. Maybe it’s just all the traveling and sleeping in a different bed all the time.”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve been sleeping pretty well but I do feel more tired than when I’m at home.”

“Jake told me that by the end we’ll all be exhausted. He said he used to sleep for like twenty hours his first day home from a tour.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” she said.

They continued to lose altitude as the plane bumped around a little in an almost gentle manner. Dave Carter, the pilot, told everyone to strap in and stay that way until they were on the ground. This was easy for everyone to do as no one had actually unstrapped themselves after takeoff.

“I did read that the Hyatt we’re staying at has a pool up on the roof,” Massa said.

“Oh yeah?” she asked politely, without much interest. Caydee was a swimming pool fanatic and Meghan had taken her to pretty much every pool at every hotel so far. She was getting a little burned on the pool scene.

“Yeah,” Massa said. “After my nap, I might go up there and check it out. I missed the pools in Vegas but going for a swim sounds like fun. And I’ve never swam on the roof of a twenty-story building before.”

Now Meghan became a little more interested. She remained cautious, however. Was he really fishing for her to invite herself along with him? Or was he just politely sharing his plan for the evening with her because she had asked? Her heart told her it was the latter, but she was not one hundred percent sure. “Uh ... I bet it would be really cool to do that at around sunset,” she offered.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Massa said.

An awkward silence developed as the plane grew closer and closer to the ground. They banked abruptly to the right as the autopilot turned them onto a new leg. Massa took in a sharp intake of breath. Meghan knew that he really did not like the big turns. She squeezed his hand comfortingly once again.

The plane leveled off, settling on its new course and continuing to descend. Massa relaxed—at least as much as he was capable of in-flight. Meghan looked over at him. “Uh ... well ... maybe I’ll check out that pool too,” she said hesitantly.

“That would be cool,” Massa said. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Maybe you will,” she returned.

Another few moments of awkward silence passed. The ground kept coming closer and closer out her window.

“Uh ... I was thinking about maybe heading there after dinner,” Massa offered. “The website for the hotel says they have a nice dining room down in the lobby.”

“Does it?”

“It does.”

She nodded. Another period of silence. “Uh ... well ... maybe we could go to dinner together?” she asked hesitantly, her face blushing bright red as she did so.

“Uh ... yeah,” Massa said. “That would be cool. What time?”

“Maybe around five or so?” she suggested, her voice so quiet that Massa needed her to repeat herself.

“Okay,” Massa said, nodding, blushing a little himself. “I’ll meet you at the dining room at five then.”

This date Massa kept, though Meghan told herself not to call it a date. Massa had given no hint that that was what he had in mind here. It was just two friends getting together on a day off to share something of mutual interest. Nevertheless, she was dressed nicely when she arrived at the dining room in the lobby of the downtown Albuquerque Hyatt Regency Hotel. She had on a pair of slacks and a bright red blouse. Her hair was down and carefully styled and she had put on lipstick and fingernail polish that matched the blouse.

Massa was wearing slacks and a button-up shirt as well. His short hair was neatly combed. He did not compliment her appearance in any way and she did not compliment his, but she could not help but think, once again, how cute he was. He was likely not interested in her in that way, of course, but a girl could hope, couldn’t she?

They enjoyed a nice dinner and good conversation in a little booth tucked away in the back corner of the dining area. Both had drinks with their dinner—she a few glasses of chardonnay to go with her seared halibut steak, he a local IPA on tap to go with his New York Steak—and this time both of them were carded by the waitress. The food was quite good and the service even better. No one bothered them in any way. Though it was known that Jake Kingsley and his band were staying in the hotel (there were groupies already staking out the bar, Meghan had noted as they’d walked past it and she’d glanced inside) no one in the restaurant realized that the young Asian kid and the cute brunette were Jake’s violinist and nanny.

Massa signed for the dinner, which Meghan took to be a gentlemanly gesture, even though it was ultimately KVA Records that was picking up the tab and not Massa himself. They walked together back through the lobby to the elevators.

“Meet you at the pool?” Meghan asked him a little nervously as they rode up.

“Yes,” he said. “Give me like five minutes to change and I’ll be there.”

“It might take me a few more minutes,” Meghan said. “I am a girl, after all.”

Massa got out on the twelfth floor. Meghan continued on to the twentieth. She opened the door to the opulent suite with her keycard and stepped inside. The blinds were open, giving her a view of the mountains to the east. There was still a light dusting of winter snow clinging to the tops of a few of them. The suite was empty, as Jake, Laura, and Caydee were still out on their own adventure.

She went to the room she shared with Caydee and dug around in her travel bag until she found her one-piece bathing suit and her flip-flops. She stripped off her clothes and tossed them on the bed. She looked down at her vaginal area and frowned. Though she had shaved her legs and armpits in the shower that morning, it had been three days since she had last shaved her intimate parts and the stubble was quite prominent (her bush was capable of becoming quite unruly if she did not keep things clean in that region). Though she harbored no hope of anyone but herself seeing that part of her body uncovered, she still stepped into the bathroom and cleaned everything up with her razor. It was best to be prepared for any eventuality, wasn’t it? She rubbed a little baby oil over the region once the shaving cream was wiped away and could not help but slip her fingers inside of herself for a moment and then give a little tweak to her clitoris. She smiled as she felt the naughty sensation spreading through her.

Enough, she told herself reluctantly. There will be time to go to town later. And she had a pretty good idea who she would be thinking about.

She tidied up the bathroom and then went back into the bedroom and put on the bathing suit. She put her flip-flops on her feet and then covered herself with one of the fluffy hotel bathrobes. She tucked her keycard and her driver’s license in the pocket of the robe and then left the suite and headed for the staircase at the end of the hall that led up to the pool.

She was afraid that Massa might have changed his mind and stood her up again, but when she walked into the enclosed rooftop pool area, she spotted him right away. He was sitting on one of the loungers, wearing a baggy pair of knee-length swimming shorts and an even baggier t-shirt. He had placed a few towels on the lounger next to him. He saw her come through the door and waved her over.

The pool area was moderately busy at this hour and there were several children of various ages and adults in the water. About half of the loungers were in use. Meghan weaved her way over until she reached him. “Is that lounger for me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I saved it for you. I got you a towel too.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. She then took a deep breath and undid the robe and took it off, leaving her in only her bathing suit. She was getting more comfortable appearing at a public pool dressed as such thanks to all the Caydee sessions, but the moment of first reveal was always a little distressing for her. The fact that she was baring her body in front of Massa made her even more nervous. Massa looked at her as she disrobed, took in a quick breath, and then quickly averted his eyes. Meghan was not sure what to make of his reaction. Does he like what he sees? Or is he disgusted?

She sat down on the lounger and stretched her legs out before her. “This is nice,” she told him. “Too bad we can’t actually swim for another thirty minutes.”

“Why can’t we swim for another thirty minutes?” he asked.

“My mom always said you have to wait forty-five minutes after you eat to get in the water,” Meghan explained. “If you don’t, you could cramp up and drown.”

“That’s an old wives tale,” Massa told her. “There is no validity to that whatsoever.”

“Really?” she asked hesitantly.

“I assure you that it is perfectly safe to get in the water right now.”

“Well ... okay,” she said. “But if I cramp up and start to drown, I expect you to save me, even if you’re cramping up and drowning too.”

He thought this over for a moment and then nodded his head. “Deal,” he said.

He took off his shirt, leaving him bare chested. Meghan took a good look at him and liked what she saw. He was a bit on the skinny side, that was true, and he had no hair whatsoever on his chest (and only a little bit in his armpits), but this was exactly the sort of look she had been into ever since Brian the Mormon in Frankfurt. She longed to run her hand over his bare skin, to touch his small nipples, maybe take them in her mouth. She felt herself starting to juice up down below as she thought about it.

“Let’s get in,” she said, afraid that if they did not do it soon he might be able to smell her arousal.

“Right,” Massa told her, nodding rapidly (Meghan having no idea that his thoughts were along a similar line that was based on visual instead of olfactory evidence). “Let’s get in.”

The water was heated and quite comfortable. They paddled around in the deep end, playing like kids on vacation. Meghan splashed him a few times with water and tried to dunk him once but he was able to slip away from her. A few times their bodies came into contact with each other, legs touching legs, hands touching shoulders, and at one point Massa’s wrist came into contact with the top of her left boob (though he jerked it away quickly, as if it had burned him). Neither one of them cramped up or drowned.

When the sun began to get close to the horizon, they left the pool and toweled off. They went to the bar at the far end of the pool and ordered drinks—a vodka and tonic for Meghan, an IPA for Massa—which were served in red plastic cups. They carried them back to their loungers and sat and watched the sun disappear below the horizon.

“This was fun,” Massa told her. “We’ll have to do this again on our off-days.”

“I’m always up for it,” Meghan told him, wishing he would reach over and take her hand like he did on the airplane.

Alas, he did not. They finished their drinks and Massa said it was about time for him to go do a little reading and then rest up for the return to the grind the next day.

“Yeah,” Meghan said with a sigh. “I’ve got some business I need to take care of too.” The kind of business that involves a bathtub and my fingers and my vivid naughty imagination.

They gathered their things. Massa put his shirt back on and Meghan put her robe back on. They left the pool area and walked down the steps to the twentieth floor. Massa walked her to her door.

“See you on the next plane ride?” he asked her as she took her key out.

Invite him in for a drink! her mind screamed at her. Invite him in for a drink! But she could not bring herself to do it. “I’ll be there,” she told him.

“Save my seat for me,” he said.

And then he was gone, heading for the elevators and his trip back down to the sixteenth floor.

Massa was feeling good as he rode back down in the elevator. Hanging out with Meghan had been a lot of fun. She really was a cool girl. And very nice to look at too. Though she had not worn a bikini as he had hoped, he had still gotten a really good look at her legs and the tops of her breasts and the shape of her body. It was too bad she was way out of his league. After all, he was just a nerdy violin player. She was the nanny for Jake and Laura Kingsley! He knew in his heart that he had no chance with her whatsoever.

But at least there were groupies! He was having the time of his life since being introduced to the concept of the request. True, he could not kiss those women—he had still not kissed a girl since his band camp experience back in high school—and he had to wear a condom with them, which he was sure was cutting down on the sensation of fucking by a considerable margin, but he got to touch them, feel them, suck their tits, finger their pussies. The Asian groupie last night had even wanted him to fuck her in the ass! And he had done it! He had never actually believed that real women (i.e., those women who were not appearing in porn videos) would really let someone do that, but the groupie (he could not remember her name now) had flat-out demanded it and really seemed to enjoy it. Life was good.

He was feeling quite horny after spending all that time with Meghan and planned to take care of himself as soon as he got back to his room. True, he could go down to the bar and likely pick up one of the groupies that hung out there—Ryan the security guy had given him ten condoms to put into his travel bag just for such conquests—but he was not quite ready to do that yet. Besides, he really wanted to think about Meghan and what she had under that bathing suit when he stroked himself.

He opened the door with his keycard and went into his private standard suite. His window looked out over downtown Albuquerque, where the lights were all coming up. He closed the blinds, cutting off the view, and then walked over to the bed. Just as he was about to strip down, he noticed the message light on his phone flashing. This was a very unusual occurrence—unheard of to this point in the tour, in fact.

He walked over and picked up the phone. He pushed the message button and heard the ringing sound in his ear. A moment later, a female voice answered. “Front desk.”

As a member of the band, Massa had been told to come up with a hotel name. Jake had suggested it be his middle name and the street he grew up on. “This is Yee Browning,” he said. “Room twelve-ten. My message light is flashing.”

“Hold on just a second, Mr. Browning,” she said. It was actually more like fifteen seconds, but she did not put him on hold. “Oh ... here it is. Ms. Forty-seventh in room twelve-oh-one is asking that you call her.”

Ms. Forty-seventh. That would be Tif, who had the hotel name of Ann Forty-seventh. She had grown up on 47th Place in the valley and had taken her instruction on how to come up with her hotel name very literally.

“Thank you,” Massa said, already starting to gleam what this was about. It had been about a week since he had last given Tif her singing ointment. No doubt she needed another deposit. He smiled a little. The idea of having Tif suck his dick was quite appealing. A real Tif mouth on his member would trump his own hand and a Meghan fantasy any day of the week.

“Would you like me to connect you to Ms. Forty-seventh’s room?” the clerk asked.

“Yes, please do that,” he said.

There was a click, a few boops and beeps, and then the phone began to ring again. It was picked up on the second ring. “Ann Forty-seventh’s room,” Tif’s voice said in his ear.

“Hey, Tif,” he said. “It’s Massa. Just got your message.”

“Hi, Massa!” she chirped. “Thanks for calling me back. Where were you?”

“Oh ... uh ... Meghan and I were hanging out at the pool.”

“That’s cool,” Tif said. “She’s a totally cool chick. I think she likes you; you know what I’m saying? Always riding next to you on the plane, holding your hand, all that.”

“We’re just friends,” Massa said. “Anyway, what’s up?”

She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if the phone were being tapped, and as if the tappers would not hear her if she whispered. “I need my ointment again. Are you up for it?”

“Uh ... yeah, I guess I could help you out with that,” he said casually.

“You’re so totally cool,” she said. “Want me to come over to your room?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That will work. Just give me a few minutes to change. I’m still in my wet bathing suit from the pool.”

“What’s the point in changing?” Tif asked him. “I’m just going to ... you know?”

As dense as she was, she did make a good point. “I guess that makes sense,” he said, feeling himself start to stiffen up already.

“I’ll be right there,” she told him.

He hung up the phone. By the time he made it back into the sitting room area there was knocking on his door. He used the peephole just to make sure it was really Tif out there (Ryan and Chris Dick had given them a lengthy lecture on security issues when the tour had first started, and one point they had emphasized was always identify someone at your door before opening it). It was. He opened the door and there she was in one of the white hotel robes, her feet bare.

“Come on in,” he told her, standing aside.

“Thanks, Massa,” she said, smiling and stepping into the room. Her blonde hair was down and she smelled as if she had just taken a shower. It was a rather nice aroma.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment. Massa then asked her if she wanted anything to drink.

“No, I’m good,” Tif told him. “How about we just get started?”

“Uh ... sure, okay,” he said, trying to act casual. “Do you want to do it on the couch here?”

“How about the bedroom?” she asked. “It’ll be more comfortable.”

“The bedroom it is,” he said, leading her there. He stood at the foot of the bed, facing her, unsure what the next move was. Did she just want him to drop his wet shorts and stand there?

She did not. “Take off your shirt, Massa,” she told him, her brown eyes shining.

“Uh ... okay,” he said, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor.

“Mmmm, nice,” she said, reaching out and running her hand over his chest. It was an incredible sensation. Her hand was soft, dainty, very girly. His manhood was now stiffened to the maximum.

She stepped back a step and then undid her robe. She let it fall to the floor. She was not wearing anything underneath it. His eyes drank in her nudity like a man looking at the Mona Lisa. Jesus fucking Christ she’s built!

She giggled a little. “I remember from last time that it helped if I was naked,” she told him.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he croaked. “It is helpful.”

She stepped closer to him again and put her arms on his shoulders. “Would it also help if I kissed you a little bit?” she whispered.

“Kuh ... kuh ... kissed me?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m a real good kisser.”

He looked at those pouty lips of hers (James called them dick-sucking lips, or DSLs—not knowing how accurate that statement really was) and nodded. “I think that might help,” he told her.

She put her arms around him and pulled her naked body against him. He was only a little bit taller than her and she had no problem putting their lips together. She kissed him gently at first and then with more passion. Her tongue slid out and into his mouth. For the first time since the band camp girl all those years ago, he touched his tongue to another. They swirled them together, probed in and out of each other’s mouths. She tasted of toothpaste with a hint of spearmint gum. He was reminded of why kissing a girl was such an enjoyable experience.

Tif was rubbing her soft lower belly against the iron bar that was his erection. She broke the kiss and looked at him. “It feels like you’re ready,” she said softly.

“I ... I think so,” he said, though he really wanted to kiss her a little longer first.

“Take off your shorts and lay on the bed,” she directed.

He did so.

“Slide all the way back,” she said. “I want to be up there with you.”

He nodded and pushed backward until his head was touching the headboard.

“All right,” Tif said. “Time to get my ointment.

She climbed into the bed and positioned herself so her chest was between his spread legs, her face just above his tumescence. She lowered her head and slurped him into her mouth, giving a good long suck from base to head before letting it pop out.

“You taste like chlorine,” she told him with a giggle.

He was not sure what to say to that so he said nothing. Tif did not wait for a reply. She lowered her head once again and went to work. Between the time spent with Meghan and the activities in the room so far, she did not have to work very long. He came in her mouth less than two minutes after she started sucking on him. She swallowed every drop.

“Thanks, Massa,” she said, licking her lips.

“You know I’m always here to help you, Tif,” he said breathlessly.

She giggled a little and then slid over to the right. She wormed her way up the bed, until she was lying next to him on her side, her boobs pushing into him. “There’s a little more help I can use right now, if you’re up to it,” she told him.

“Uh ... what kind of help?”

“I am really, really horny, Massa,” she said. “I’m tired of playing with myself. Have you ever eaten a pussy?”

He felt the jolt of adrenaline blast through him. How should he play this one? He decided to go with the truth. “Uh ... well ... I’ve never actually done that before,” he admitted.

“Really? Not even once?”

“Really,” he said, feeling a little shame. “I’ve ... uh ... always wanted to try it though.”

She smiled. “Would you like to try it on me?” she asked. “I would be very grateful.”

“Uh ... yeah,” he said. “I could do that for you.”

“You’re a good friend, Massa,” she said. “Do you want to suck on my tits a little first? That usually gets my motor running.”

“Uh ... yeah,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I suppose I could do that for you.”

And so, he sucked and slurped on her nipples, moving from the right one, which had the nipple ring in it, to the left, which was just natural nipple. While he sucked, Tif pushed his hand down between her legs and he played with her wet vagina. Finally, she pushed his head down and spread herself widely. He stared at her wet, swollen womanhood in awe, drinking in the sight of it, smelling the exciting aroma of it.

“Do it, Massa!” Tif ordered breathlessly. “Put your tongue on me and start licking. I’ll tell you how to do it.”

And she did. He feasted on her, doing everything she told him to do. He concentrated on the lips and plunging his tongue in and out at first and then gradually began paying attention to her swollen clitoris and sliding two fingers in and out of her. As she got more excited and flushed, she gave him a direction that was a little startling.

“Put a finger in my ass!” she barked.

“Hmmm?” he mumbled, just to make sure he had heard her correctly.

“Do it!” she barked. “Finger my ass! That always puts me over the edge.”

He did it. And she was right, it pushed her over the edge. Her body bucked up and down and she moaned loudly. Her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling his face tighter against her. Her legs wrapped around his back, tightening until he could barely breathe.

He was amazed at how long her orgasm took. He had never actually witnessed a girl coming to orgasm in front of him before. None of the groupies he had fucked had done so, nor had his band camp companion. He had seen alleged female orgasms on internet porn, of course, but none of them had gone on any longer than a male orgasm. Nearly two minutes went by before she stopped all the bucking and moaning and her body relaxed once again.

“Oh my god!” she said, still panting. “That was totally the bomb, Massa. You did good work down there.”

“Uh ... thanks,” he said, a little breathless himself.

“Come up here,” she told him. “Kiss me again.”

He hesitated. He had just deposited his semen in the mouth she was suggesting he kiss. And, true, it was his own stuff and not some security guard’s, but still... “Uh ... kiss you?”

“I love to taste my pussy on a guy’s mouth after he eats me,” she told him. “Come on! Come up here!”