Chapter 2

We rode our motorcycles into town as fast as Arlene's would go, naturally. I had no trouble keeping up with her, but I did wish that she would not drive so fast just for safety's sake. Oh, well, I was happy to take what I could get.

We stopped off at a tailor shop, something that I was amazed to find in such a relatively small town. However, Arlene explained that there were several very rich men who either lived nearby or else had summer homes here. The tailor made a good living from their trade, yet he did not have to work very hard most of the time. He liked being semi-retired while still a relatively young man.

We did have an argument about my shoulder holster when he started fitting me for my suit jacket and the other jackets that Arlene insisted that I order. We agreed on the pants once I took off my motorcycle boots and used a new pair of shoes that I bought from him. By the time we left, I was outfitted with a complete wardrobe costing nearly $1,000. Of course, Arlene paid for all of it out of her petty cash fund.

The tailor promised to have the clothes delivered as fast as he could whip them up, but he did want me to stop by for a final fitting with the various jackets because we both wanted to hide the bulge from the shoulder holster. Arlene was the one who actually won the argument over the shoulder holster by pointing out that I was her new bodyguard and had to attend all functions with her to provide her the protection that she needed. She laughed over that when we left the tailor shop, and I just grinned because I didn't want to say too much.

Next, we went to the gunshop, and I was again amazed at the quality and quantity of items on display. Apparently, these people really put a lot of attention into their guns. There were four different brands of automatic pistols, two domestic and two foreign. However, Arlene insisted on having a .45 caliber ACP "just like John's." The other three brands were all 9 mm, and that made them no better than the Luger that she had. We walked out with one pistol, one shoulder holster, three extra magazines, and two boxes of ammunition. She ordered a case of ACP ammunition delivered, but she wanted something that she could carry in her saddlebags to get home with it today. She said that she could hardly wait to try out her new toy.

The biggest problem was in getting the shoulder holster to fit around her big tits without pinching her. She insisted that I help her with the adjustments, and that involved a lot of feeling her up as I moved her tits and the webbing around to get a comfortable fit. She decided to wear the shoulder holster and pistol home since she already had the holster in place. She did have to wear the holster a bit lower on her left side than I did because of the presence of those wonderful tits. I think that she had fun having me feel her up in public. The gunsmith was certainly amused at the exhibition.

We rode home as fast as we had ridden to get to town. However, there was a "situation" encountered on the way. A fancy touring car was stopped at the side of the road because of a truck that was blocking the road just ahead of it. Just as we approached, two men jumped from the cab of the truck, and they were holding shotguns. Arlene shouted that this was a holdup in progress.

Before I could stop her, she aimed her motorcycle at the car and raced to the rescue. Hell, there was nothing that I could do but to join her. When she got close enough, the bandit on the driver's side raised his shotgun and pointed it at Arlene as if to shoot her. There was nothing that I could do but to accelerate and line up to fire my BARs. I couldn't take a chance on Arlene being shot!

I used my right thumb to select both BARs and fired using the simulated break hand grip on the right side of the handlebar. I only fired a very short burst because there was something on the order of 30 rounds per second when the two guns were fired at the same time. As expected, I chopped the bandit into hamburger meat.

A startled Arlene slammed on her brakes and stared at me as I roared past. I wheeled around and headed for the other bandit. He fired one shot at me with his shot gun before dropping it and running away from the road. Naturally, I pursued him, but my motorcycle bounced around so much on the rough ground that the fixed-mount BARs were of no use. As soon as I got close enough, I stopped and shot the second man with my ACP.

I turned around and raced back to check on Arlene. She was fine and making sure that the occupants of the touring car were not injured. They were some of her friends, so she was the ideal person to make sure that they had not been harmed.

The robbery victims stayed where they were while Arlene and I went back into town to roust the deputy sheriff to come look at the robbery sight. He was anxious to look after the rich portion of "his people," so he jumped into his car and raced as fast as it would go to the sight of the attempted robbery.

Technically, the two BARs mounted on my motorcycle were illegal, but the deputy sheriff ignored that fine point because I had used them in defense of the upper class of his county. He thanked me for my aid and told Arlene and me that we could go home. Arlene appeared to be in a slow burn as we rode home and refused to acknowledge my presence. I wondered if that meant that I would be sent packing. Well, I found out as soon as we parked our bikes in the garage.

She hopped off her bike and stood face to face with me in a very imposing stance. "Okay, Mr. Wilson, tell me the truth this time! Just who the hell are you. I know that you have to be more than you claim, so just spill the beans!"

It looked like I had no choice but to fall back onto Plan B. I told her that I was a roving government agent on the lookout for counterfeit money. I showed her my ID (Identification papers) that proclaimed me to be a Secret Service agent. I elaborated with the story that my assignment was to roam the country to look for the bogus money and to take what measures were necessary to break up any counterfeiting ring. That was why I had the concealed guns, etc., etc., etc.

It took a while, but I finally convinced her. At that point, she jumped into my arms and planted a kiss on my lips that curled my toes. Apparently, my glib tongue had squashed all of her doubts about me being one of the "good guys," and we were more than just friends again. I cemented my position by saying that my job as her bodyguard was just the kind of cover I needed, and I would not be hearing any repercussions from my boss.

We went into the house and cleaned up after our dusty ride. Arlene insisted that she wanted me to start instructing her in the use of her ACP as soon as we finished lunch. I was agreeable and had the fun of shifting her tits out of the way so that she could put the shoulder holster back on. All right, I admit it: I did take the opportunity to diddle with her nipples whenever I had the chance. "Stop it, John, or I will never make it out to the shooting range! We'll have time for that later."

We spent a couple of hours on the range, some of it with me pointing out the differences between the ACP and her Luger. I had her start out using both hands to hold the pistol when she fired. I pointed out that there was nothing sissy about that. "Honey, I use that stance whenever it is appropriate because it gives me a steadier grip on the pistol and gives me better control of muzzle climb. That way, I am ready to shoot again only moments after the slide has cycled. That can make the difference between who lives and who dies."

I was surprised when Arlene said, "Oh, John, that was the first time that you have called me 'Honey.' Did you really mean it?"

"By damn, Honey, you are right. It just slipped out. I hope you don't mind."

"Hell no, I don't mind. You can call me 'Honey' any time you want to whenever we are in private, but I think that you had better stick to 'Arlene' for the public, including Daddy, for now."

"Okay, Honey, I'll watch my tongue as carefully as I can. Now, back to the shooting lessons. I may need you to save my life sometime, so I want to be sure that you know what you are doing."

That certainly peaked her interest, and she paid very close attention to what I was trying to teach her for the rest of the session. Arlene was already an excellent shot with her Luger, so she had already mastered the basics. By the end of the session, she was shooting groupings as tightly as I was as long as she used two hands to hold the pistol.

"Honey, I think that you have already demonstrated your skill with one hand, so I don't think that any more formal instruction is necessary."

"Okay, Darling, but let's keep up the charade for a little while longer until I have Daddy firmly on my side. He has to be convinced that you are my bodyguard of choice. After that, we can just shoot for fun."

"That's fine with me. How long do you think that it will be before I get to meet 'Daddy?'"

"He is due to arrive on the train tomorrow. We can ride down with the chauffeur to pick him up. That way, we can talk on the way home. It is usually a 30-40 minute trip by car."

"Okay, let's go into the garage. I have something that I want to show you at my motorcycle." We marched to the garage and I opened the lock-box and pulled out my Thompson SMG.

"Oh, my God! It's beautiful! Will you let me shoot it? I've never had the chance to shoot a Thompson before, and I would love to."

"Of course, Honey. That's why I am showing it to you. I think that I will get you one of your own. My contacts can do that easily, and I think that you should have all of the protection that you can get while you are riding around the countryside.

[That's an excellent idea, John. I'll have one shipped to you by express right away. You had better call that special number in Washington, DC, just to allay any suspicions.]

"If you will let me use your telephone for a long distance call, I'll order you a Thompson as soon as we get into the house."

That was when I got another one of those soul-searing kisses and the hug to go along with it. "Of course you can use the phone. Don't even bother to ask, especially when you are ordering a gift for me."

We went into the house, and Arlene went to the bar while I made my telephone call from another room. The call was not strictly necessary, but we wanted to get the call on record just in case anybody ever checked on us. In this case, I suspected that "Daddy" would keep a close eye on me at least for a while.

"Daddy" was due in at 2:00 PM, so we left the house at 12:30. It wouldn't do for him to have to wait for his car. One of my new suits was delivered in time for the trip, and Arlene was wearing one of those almost diaphanous summer dresses that women like so much.

She chose the car we were to use, and Bob, the chauffeur, didn't care which one it was. This particular vehicle had a divided driver and passenger compartment so that private conferences could be held without the driver being able to hear what was said. There was a method of communication available if needed, but it was normally turned off.

The rear private passenger section contained a bench seat facing forward and two swiveling seats next to the back of the front seat so that several people could converse with no strain. The inside of the compartment was very quiet with the windows rolled up, and there was complete privacy in both directions. We started out with Arlene and me sitting side by side on the Bench seat.

"Darling, this can be a very boring ride, so I have a surprise for you." With that, she spread her knees a little bit and pulled up her dress until the hem was at her waist. I was startled to see that she was wearing no panties, and I could see that she had shaved her pussy completely bald.

"Now it is your turn." She reached over and opened my fly. "Lift your beautiful bottom off the seat for a moment." Hell, I was mesmerized, so I followed orders. As soon as I had lifted my weight from my pants, she pulled them to my knees and quickly followed them with my jockey shorts. "Oh, my, that is what I like to see." She said that as my cock continued to grow more erect.

She raised her left leg high and moved it over my head to rest on the back of the bench seat as she pivoted and slid down to lie with her back upon the seat. "Well, are you beginning to get the idea?" she asked with a wink and a self-satisfied grin.

You bet I was getting the idea. I also pivoted, but it was toward her, and I put my right knee on the seat. I still had enough slack in my pants to be able to keep my left foot on the floor of the car for balance. I reached out to check her condition by rubbing my hand over her bare pussy, and my touch verified what my eyes had reported: She was pouring lubricant from her pussy, and she was as ready for penetration as a woman could get.

I slid toward her and pushed my cock head against her slit to pick up a little bit of that lubricant. I figured that I didn't need much based on how much was gushing from her visible opening. I don't know for sure how she got the leverage, but Arlene lurched upward as soon as my cock was in the proper position, and I penetrated about an inch. "Okay, Big Boy, the rest is up to you."

Well, it has been a long time since I was slow to pick up on that kind of hint, so I pushed my cock in as far as I could reach. There was no hangup because of lack of lube, but the angle was not the best. I just could not get inside Arlene as much as I had on previous occasions. Apparently, she knew the answer to that problem because she moved both of her legs so that her calves rested on my shoulders. "Lean forward, Big Boy, and this position should take care of any difficulties."

She was right. I slid in the last half an inch until my pubic bone pressed against her clit. The moan of delight ensued, and I was in as far as I could go. I held for a minute in that delightful position before I began to stroke. Gradually my strokes sped up as I became accustomed to the position. Soon, this was moving along as any other fuck should, and we both began to climb toward orgasm. Before long, we both came together, and I felt like I squirted gallons of jizz into her pussy.

In all of my years, this was the first time that I had ever fucked in a moving car, and I must say that the feeling was "different." I am not sure how to phrase it, but the vibration of the car as it moved along the highway added something unusual and delightful to the experience. To put it simply, it was great fun.

I noticed that we had reached city traffic, so I pulled out and turned around to sit on the seat. Arlene did much the same thing, but she reached into a compartment under the bench seat and pulled out a large towel. She wiped off my cock, her pussy, and the seat. Thereupon, she sat on the towel and said, "We are almost at the train station, so I suggest that you pull up your pants and fasten them before we have visitors or that people can see inside the car."

That sounded like good advice, so I did as suggested. We also opened the car windows in an effort to air out the compartment. It reeked of sex, and that was not what I wanted for a first impression on "Daddy."

I didn't realize it at the time, but Bob had not driven as fast as he could in order to give Arlene and me plenty of time to complete our fuck. As a result, we only had about half an hour to wait for the train to show up, and it was less than 10 minutes later when Arlene almost shouted, "There he is. I can see Daddy from here."