Chapter 22

Sarah and Paul walk along the palm tree lined walk at the Hadly Mall in Naples. It's one of those tropical Florida Saturday mornings that make Sarah glad she gave up wearing underwear. Paul watches his mother walk along beside him as they walk up to the interior store, simply thankful his mother did. He watches her hips sway and her tits bounce as they enter the store.

Sarah needs material for new drapes. The drapes in the Davis house were once brightly colored, but ten years of Florida sun have flattened the colors as if the sun itself had driven over them.

Paul trails behind his mother as she goes to the drapery department. A tall, blonde woman his mother's age passes him wearing a brief halter-top and low-slung shorts. She has his mother's smoldering sexuality.

She notices Paul as she passes. Seeing a young boy, she gives him a challenging stare, expecting to see him look away in embarrassment. This young man holds her gaze and challenges her right back. Looking into his eyes, she sees her lack of sexual satisfaction, her overworked and undersexed husband, her disrespectful children -- and she sees the cure to her frustrations in his eyes. She breaks off his stare, stopping first to inspect his bulging crotch, and quickly turns around. Her body is vibrating with sexual energy. It is all she can do to not fuck the young boy right here. Her need makes her turn to the back of the store. She strides for the sign that reads "Ladies."

Paul follows her. At the door to the ladies room he turns to inspect the sparsely shopped store. He pushes open the door and peers inside. It is empty, so he walks in. As the door closes on the bustle outside, he easily makes out a panting sound of obvious origin.

He walks up to a stall with the door closed. The breathing behind the door stops. Paul says, "Open the door." After a brief shuffle, the door swings inward. The woman sits back down on the toilet and stares at Paul. He just steps in and closes the door behind him. He stares into her eyes as he unzips his pants and pulls out his hard cock. She sees the lust in his young eyes and knows it's directed to her. She sees a look of desire that has been missing in her life too many years; a strong cock, hard for only her, a hard cock that will drain her frustrations and ease her longing.

Her shaking hand reaches out and closes around the cock. Paul's power flows through her fingers and heals her pain. Amanda Potter looks at the rigid phallus in her hand and knows what she truly needs. She leans forward and accepts the young man's cock into her mouth. His hardness is total as his cock slides to the back of her throat. She bathes his cock with her tongue. She has never been so inflamed from the act of cocksucking. She was fastidious woman, overly concerned with neatness, who always considered taking a cock into her mouth to be dirty and only done when she needed something from a bastard husband who would demand her mouth as payment. The cock in her mouth carries none of the flavor of servility or humiliation.

Paul pulls her mouth from his cock and draws her up. "How old are you?"

"Forty-five," she pants, "Fuck me, please."

He turns her around. "Pull down your shorts and panties."

She quickly lowers them to the floor. She bends over and puts her hands on the toilet presenting her ass to Paul. "Fuck me, please," she repeats.

She pushes her ass back to come into contact with his cock. He slightly lowers the head and pushes it into the furry slot before him. The head parts the lips and slips inside. Amanda moans loudly from Paul's cock rubbing the lining of her pussy as he lodges himself deep inside her.

Paul's command of "quiet" is like a slap in her face. Her cries cease, but her breathing is still rapid. He takes her hips in hand and begins a hard, fucking motion. She drives back hard on him.

Another customer walks towards the ladies room, but just as she pushes the door open, she decides she will wait until she gets home before peeing. She thinks, you never know about these public restrooms.

Paul is hammering Amanda's pussy; he has a handful of her straight, blonde hair and is using it for leverage to pound into her harder. He feels his cum begin to travel up his cock. Straining to hold back and prolong his pleasure, Paul speaks to her. "You are a great fuck." Amanda's pleasure increases and she tightens her pussy in response to the praise.

Paul's cum blasts from his balls. "Cum, you cunt." Amanda's orgasm bursts through her body as she feels the young stud's cum fill her. She is swept away by the volume of cum that fills her cunt and runs down her legs.

The last drops of his cum drain into her, and Paul withdraws his cock. She turns and sits slumped back on the toilet. Paul offers her his cock and she licks their spendings from it. Paul pushes his drained cock back into his pants. He leans down and kisses her lips. "Thank you."

She weakly smiles, "You are welcome."

Paul opens the stall door and departs. Amanda can hear him leave the ladies room. She smiles, thinking about the intense fucking she just received. Her hand moves down between her legs and her finger begins a rapid motion on her clit.

When Paul finds his mother, she is talking to a woman in her fifties. They are standing by a stack of very pricey-looking material. He hears his mother saying, "I know this material is quite expensive, but I'm sure we could come to an arrangement over this." Paul notices his mother has her hand on the saleswoman's arm and is rubbing her ring into her skin. Shit, Paul thinks, she's using the ring to get a discount. He can't believe what he is seeing.

"Mrs. Davis, you're asking me to sell you the material at far below my cost."

"Mrs. Twindam, I've been coming into this shop for twenty years and I have purchased many, many things here over the years. Couldn't we come to some arrangement over this?"

Mrs. Twindam's eyes are losing their focus as Sarah works the ring into her arm. Paul wants to take his mother by her arm and march her out of the store, but he is fascinated at the interaction between the two women. He wants to see how far his mother will go. He is getting excited watching this.

Amanda Potter walks by Paul and winks at him. She pushes a small rectangle of paper into his shirt pocket and is then gone. His mother sees the exchange and gives him a warm smile of approval. Paul knows his mother is aware he has just fucked the woman. He pulls the card from his pocket. It reads "Amanda Potter, Interior Decorator". Paul turns the card over; written in beautiful penmanship is "Call me anytime. ANYTIME!" Paul pushes the card back into his pocket.

"Mrs. Twindam, let's go back to your office and discuss the level of discount you are willing to give for an old customer." His mother takes the store owner by the arm and guides her to the back. "Would you please come with me, Paul? I might need you." Paul smiles and wonders just what part of him will be needed.

They enter her small office and Sarah makes sure the door is locked. Sarah sits the older woman in a chair in front of her desk and leans against the desk facing the dazed woman. Paul has this image in his head of a cobra bearing down on a mouse. It sends a chill through him.

Sarah leans down into Mrs. Twindam's face, and looks into her eyes, her hand cupping her chin as she traces the ring down her throat. "Do you like sex, Mrs. Twindam?"

"Yes, but it's been so long since my husband has died. I have been alone."

"No men to help you relieve the sexual tensions any healthy woman builds up?"

"Oh, no. I haven't met a man who has enticed me to sleep with him."

"Do you like women?"

Mrs. Twindam twitches at the suggestion. "In a sexual way?"

"Yes. Have you ever had sex with a woman?"

She answers slowly, thoughtfully. "Yes, a very long time ago."

Sarah's hand moves to her cheek, hypnotically moving back and forth with her ring. "Did you enjoy it?"

In a barely audible voice she says, "Yes."

Sarah moves closer and softly touches her lips to the confused woman. She doesn't react to Sarah for a moment, and then her lips begin to softly return the kiss.

Paul is stunned at the turn things have taken. His mother is seducing the owner of the store for a discount on the drape material she wants to buy. His cock is also as hard as the floor he is standing on.

Sarah moves her hand to the back Mrs. Twindam's neck pulling her lips into a tighter kiss. Paul can see their mouths open and knows his mother's tongue is working its magic on Mrs. Twindam. They break the kiss, but keep their lips close.

"Mrs. Twindam,... "

"Agatha."

"Agatha, that was so soft. Did you enjoy it?"

She nods her head and she moves to kiss Sarah. Paul is standing in front of the door with his cock outlined visibly in his slacks. Sarah gives him a quick glance and returns her attention to Agatha.

Sarah takes Agatha's hand and moves it to her breast. Her hand surrounds Sarah's lush breast and Sarah feels Agatha's thumb rub her distended nipple. Sarah releases the top two buttons of her dress and moves Agatha's trembling hand inside, causing Agatha's breath to quicken as she feels a woman's breast in her hand for the first time in almost 35 years. She takes over from Sarah and unbuttons the remaining buttons, slowly. As the last button separates, Agatha gasps as she sees that Sarah is naked under the dress. She gapes at Sarah's smooth pussy. Her trembling hand touches the shaved lips. She slowly drags her fingers down and along Sarah's pussy.

"It's so wet." She looks into Sarah's eyes and they move together for another kiss. Paul is tempted to join them, but he has a strong feeling that he is neither needed nor wanted. His mother has identified a need Agatha Twindam has had for a long time and is moving to fill that need. Paul knows he is not required for this.

"You have made me this wet." Sarah reaches down for Agatha's hand and pulls it from her pussy. She feels the finger withdrawing from her cunt and she takes the shop owner's hand and moves the finger to her mouth.

"Taste me." Agatha looks from the finger to Sarah and back. She opens her lips and accepts the finger smothered with Sarah's juices into her mouth. The flavor brings memories flooding back. Flashes of long-buried memories of extended kisses and gentle caresses play through her head, memories of the high school lover who introduced her to the joys of women. The nights they shared, the weekend walks through the woods near her house.

Sarah slips gently to the tabletop and leans back. Her hold on the back of Agatha's head pulls the woman's head down to the level of Sarah's pussy. The closeness of Sarah's musk increases the memories tied to the fragrance and the happiness the young lovers had. Agatha lowers her face into this pool of memories and sees the pussy of her lover below her. She tastes it as she has so many times in the past. She is no longer in her office, but in the woods behind her house, laying on a blanket, giving pleasure to the young woman who meant the most to her in her early life.

Paul watches the older woman pleasure his mother. His new confidence and self-discipline keeps his zipper up as he watches his mother become aroused by Agatha's active tongue. Agatha's hand moves down, and she inserts two massaging fingers into Sarah while she licks the younger woman's clit.

Sarah cums hard from Agatha's not quite forgotten ability; she twists and turns from the pleasure she is receiving. She gently pushes the face from her pussy. They move together and share Sarah's juices. Agatha is smiling and two tears leak down her cheeks. She helps Sarah button up her dress. They leave the office ignoring Paul.

Agatha moves to the material Sarah wanted and hands it to her. "My gift to you for bringing me back to life."

Sarah smiles and says, "Thank you so much." She hands the material to Paul and kisses Agatha hotly in the middle of her store. Agatha is not at all uncomfortable about returning the kiss.

Sarah and Paul walk out in to the bright sunshine. Paul looks at this mother. "I can't believe you just did that."

"What?"

"Take that without paying for it."

"Paul, I did pay for it. Agatha got more than money for these few yards of fabric. She will wake up and start living again. Her husband's death was slow and painful, and she's never recovered from his loss. What we did back there will bring her out of her shell and let her start living in today."

Paul looks at his mother as they slowly walks to the car. "I think I understand, but how did you know this?"

"When I touched her with the ring, I felt her thoughts. I then knew what she needed to get from me to get what I wanted."

"You read her mind?"

"I don't know if that's a good term, but I did see her loneliness and I could see what caused it."

The plane lands in complete darkness on the unlit runway. To Jack Horner, light isn't a necessity, as he has put down a plane in darkness many times before. Mostly for the CIA, but also for companies and governments seeking to enter a country outside the normal immigration entry points.

Skimming across the desert so low that he risks igniting the cacti with his jet exhaust, his GPS leads him to the end of the runway. At five seconds before touchdown, dim red lights flash on to lead him down. This is his first job in United States. His past work was in Eastern Europe where the radar coverage was lighter.

He touches down and rolls to a halt at the last light, per his instructions. He is to wait until the passengers off-load before he can turn around, fly at an altitude of 150 feet for fifty miles due south, before he climbs to his cruising altitude and heads for Las Vegas to check his bank balance, which should how be $500,000 higher than it was this morning.

A large truck rolls up with its headlights dimmed. Jack sees it stop at the passenger door. The cockpit door is locked and has been for the entire flight from Boston and during the rapid descent to the deck for the last hundred miles.

Most of the job is finished. He will be off the ground in a few minutes and on his way to retirement.

The interior lights of the cabin are dim. The valuable cargo is sleeping, with the help of some gentle narcotics. Princess Emira and the Olsen Twins are lying on folded back seats with restraints in excess of those needed for safe flight.

Ahmed Mohammed, Osama's brother, is the only other passenger. He watches the girls, though they do not need much watching because they are naked. Naked prisoners think twice about escaping. The cultural bias against nudity makes them unconsciously think twice about running into the unknown. This extra time needed to overcome indecision reduces their lead; it does not make guarding them easy. Their young lush bodies excite the terrorist. He knows he can not touch the princess, but the Olson twins are citizens of the devil nation and he will have his way with them soon.

The pilot lands perfectly, and Osama, his brother, is exactly on time.

Ahmed opens the door and embraces his brother. The both mutter "Allah akbar," and turn to the girls. The brothers quickly remove the restraints and carry the girls to into the truck. Each girl is deposited in a bunk, the Olsen Twins more roughly than the princess. Osama opens the driver's door and climbs in.

Ahmed returns to the plane. He knocks on the cockpit door and in his educated Oxford English accent tells the pilot, "Mr. Horner, when the truck pulls away, you many leave. The rest of the money will be then deposited in your bank account. Thank you for your skills."

"Thanks for the money." Horner smiles as he thinks about the pussy and liquor a half-a-million dollars will buy.

Ahmed returns to the passenger cabin and removes a small black box from a storage bin. He throws a switch on the top and adjusts the digital clock to fifteen minutes. Opening a cover on the top, he presses a red button. The clock begins counting down.

A satisfied Ahmed presses the button that starts the passenger door closing. He ducks under the lowering mechanism and jumps into the truck.

Osama glances at him as he sits in the truck's cab. Ahmed smiles and draws his finger across his throat. Osama laughs, starts the truck, and drives away from the jet.

Jack Horner turns the jet around and takes off into the darkness with the clock ticking.

The Rising Crescent's effectiveness in the terrorist world was waning. The radical sect of fundamentalist Muslims had passed their useful days. After 9/11, the heat of the world banking community was melting the connections that carried the money to this most radical of radical movements.

Hekem and Azeem Mohammed are in their tenth years as leaders of the Rising Crescent, brothers that share power in an area where power is not shared easily.

They are in a safe house in Naples, Florida, an upper-middle class residence which their dwindling fortunes can ill afford. A Hekem contributor, King Fasil of South Aranbia, had cut off their financing to please the devil nation America. To show their contempt for both the king and the Americans, they have pulled off the kidnapping of the century to finance their organization's terrorist operations.

The brothers are in their basement office, a place off-limits to their wives. They confine their wives to the ground floor of their large home; artifacts of political alliances and religious necessities, they are less bedmates than window-dressing kept to placate their allies. They are watching television while waiting for a call from their men in Arizona. They know their heads hang in the balance of their success.

Hekem's cell phone rings. Azeem mutes the volume of the television, silencing the moans of the American prostitutes acting out their perverted pleasures on television. He listens to his brother intently, in case something has gone terribly wrong.

"Allah akhbar."

"Good, they are at the final destination?"

"Are they still unconscious?"

"Good. Order the signal to the head of the house to be delivered."

Hekem closes his phone. Azeem looks at him for an explanation.