The Upgrade - Cover

The Upgrade

Copyright© 2018 by Charlie for now

Chapter 8

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 8 - He finds a damsel in distress, in a casino lobby of all places. An unlikely couple for sure. Ups and downs, mostly ups. Good people and bad guys, but mostly fun and romance. (codes apply to entire story, so far)

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Teenagers   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   TransGender   Fiction   Polygamy/Polyamory   Anal Sex   Analingus   Oral Sex   Squirting   Water Sports   Nudism   Slow   Geeks  

Dedink, Dedink, Dedink!

“It’s Saturday fucking morning. Who the fuck set that fucking alarm!”

“You did, Daddy. You said something about calling someone, first thing in the morning. It’s already second thing, now, you know. Almost seven, but still, you did it!” And, at that, Jen hightailed it out of the room so I couldn’t grab her and smack her insubordinate ass. She was laughing all the way, too. “Coffee in 5 minutes!!” We had a couple of Bunn coffee makers that were pretty quick to make fresh brew in the morning. I went to my office, closing the door, and made my call.

A fishing charter company out of Perdido Key. Lost Key. Off of Pensacola. I had a friend recommend a charter company so we could put all of us out on a yacht for sunning, fishing, maybe swimming, but in any case, a very fine day at sea with a fun charter.

I heard a knock. “IN!” I hollered. It was Shirley, Natasha, and Renee. “I’m setting up a fishing charter for our vacation in April. Brad told me to call this guy. Saturday morning is the only time he’s not fishing.”

I was waiting for the gentleman to come to the phone. He did, “Hello, sir. This is Chuck Colton, a friend of Brad Williams. (Pause.) Yes, that’s correct, Senator Williams’ little brother. (Pause.) He did? Good, then you have some idea. (Pause.) Ten. Yes. On Eighteen April. (Pause.) Twelve? Better yet, just in case. Make it twelve, but there will probably only be ten of us. One guy and nine beautiful girls. (Pause.) I have no idea. My mother told me to never ask a woman’s age. Seriously, the youngest is my wife. She’ll be twenty in early June, and the rest range up to about my age, early forty something. (Pause.) I’d say one double XL, four medium and five small, maybe. (Pause.) They all do, lightly. Two, maybe three, during the whole day. (Pause.) Actually, between you and me, and the NSA, they are more than friends, but I can only have one wife. I’ll leave it at that. (Pause.) Yes sir, the entire day. The longest, fullest, funnest, day package you have. If there is a place they could swim, that would be super as well. Out very early and back very late. (Pause.) And you have room inside, out of the sun, for most of them at once as well? (Pause.) Great. Bill said you could have a young couple take us out. (Pause.) Your daughter! Good. (Pause.) Perfect. Here, my wife has those numbers for you. Thank you for your help with this.”

I handed the phone to Shirley who finished the transaction. She asked him if there were any really nice places nearby that had a beach and large suites they could look at for all of them. He recommended the Luxury Coast Solutions. She thanked him again, then said goodbye telling him we were looking forward to it. Immensely.

“OK, ladies, remember, it’s a surprise for the kids. They’ll need proper clothes, long ones, short ones or short short ones, in Kitten’s case, and bikinis, however salacious you’ll allow, but other than that, I want it to be a surprise. OK?” Two avid nods and huge grins. One hesitant nod and a smile.

“This will be so much fun!! Can’t wait,” Shirley said.

“A boat, on the ocean, Chuck? Is it safe?” Natasha was a little reluctant, but Shirley and Renee scooted her out and told her about it when the kids weren’t listening. She’d love it.

I looked the company up and checked out the 12-passenger charter boat. I thought, ‘Damn, I ought to get us one of those. We’ll see how this trip goes. Hope they like it. Maybe closer to retirement.’ We’d be moving close to the ocean someday anyway, or at least a vacation house close to it. Something to think about. As if I didn’t have enough to think about already.

The rest of the day was spent cleaning the house, doing laundry, and talking about everything from school classes to vacation plans to the midterm elections coming up. Since we were going out for dinner, light sandwiches and chips were the lunch du jour. There was some hanky panky being enacted, and as a matter of fact, one of the kids took some towels in the bedroom to fold, and found Jen and Jane folded around each other while Emily looked on, longingly. Julie set the basket down and sat with her, holding her hand.

“Em, is there anything I can do to help? You look miserable.”

“Yes. If you’re really careful, maybe we can do it and not hurt me, but will you play with my PeeNut and see if we can make me come. I know it might hurt, but I’m almost desperate.” Both Jane and Jen stopped what they were doing and looked at us.

“PeeNut?” Jane asked

“Our prostate, Janey. It’s the only link to sexuality left for us. Well, that and our brains. Massaging it is still really nice, and we can still orgasm and stuff,” Jen said to her. “Watch, Jane. Lay back, Em. I’m going to have Jane do you while she watches her sister do me. Jane, Julie does this to me a lot. Just be gentle with Em and go straight in until you are far enough to lift a little, and it should be right THERE! Yes, Jules, you got it. Wow. Show your sister. Guide her. Use the lube, Janey. I was already wet, remember? There you go, Babe. Oh, good girl, Em. Open her up and, yep middle finger, all the way in, then lift up a hair.”

“UHHNNNNGGGG. Oh GOD, that’s NICE, JANERIGHTTHEREHJANE UHHHNNNNNNDDDD. FUCKKKKK! STOP! Let me relax. Oh gosh that was nice.”

“Did that hurt, Em?” Jen asked her. “You came a little. Here, let me taste.” Jen licked the little spot off her tummy. “Mmmmm, it’s good.”

“No, not really, not my clitty. It hurt in my groin muscles, but the orgasm and spasms didn’t hurt my peepee. I’d better get my catheter back in before Daddy sees me playing around. I wasn’t supposed to do this ‘til next week. Jane, can you help me?”

“NO! She can’t, but Daddy can.” I walked in. “Emily, Baby Girl, I heard the whole conversation and saw everything. Before I say anything else, know this. I love you, Baby Girl. I really, really do, but you have to listen to the doctors. Maybe you really do need to heal a little more before the PC muscle and those that contract during orgasms are ready for prime time. Thrall, get me a new catheter and some Surgilube, please? I’m gonna stick this catheter so far into your sister’s clit, the tip’s gonna come out her nose, then I’m spank gonna her so hard she sees next week’s news!!” I grinned at Emily and told her to lay back. “You know I’d never do that, punkin.” I slipped on some XL sterile gloves, then I had Jane squirt some lube in the open catheter package so I could get it nice and slippery. Gently, with my fingers holding her, I eased the catheter in at the angle they showed us. When I heard her sigh and saw her smile, I knew we had hit pay dirt. Jane put a bag on the catheter to drain her. I gently picked her up in my arms and rocked her as if she were a child. To us, she was, I guess.

“I love you so much, Baby Girl, but you gotta be good for another couple of weeks. Please? I don’t want you hurt.” She nodded. “Thank you. Kiss me you little poopyhead.” She did. Softly, gently, and with much tongue. Hers was long and thin, and I love to suck on it. “You really scared me. Ready for me to check and see if you hurt anything?” She grimaced. I felt around, starting with her thigh muscles and in the front on her groin. Then underneath in the groin valleys. I squeezed each buttock, then gently turned her over and palpated her stomach muscles, her abs, looking for anything painful. Nothing. “OK, Baby Girl. You’re probably fine. Keep an eye on it and if you feel any pain at all, we’re flying to Kansas City tomorrow. OK?”

“OK, Daddy. Daddy?” I acknowledged. “Please don’t be mad at me. And stop kissing me and playing with me. You make me so fucking horny I want to back up on a doorknob.” She started laughing.

I turned her over and softly patted her ass. “Spankings for insubordinate wenches commence now!”

The other five girls lined up by the bed with their asses toward me. These girls are a hoot. I smacked and kissed each one on the ass and told them all to get back to work, but I asked Emily to stay for a bit.

“Em, I really do love you. Are you OK? Do you want me to get you clearance so you can play more?”

“No, Chuck. I need to wait. I was just impatient, and watching the girls eating each other triggered me. I’ll be OK. Will you snuggle me tonight when we get home? Oh, thinking of that, dancing will let me know if I’m sore or anything.” Emily was thinking ahead.

“Yeah, I will. I’ll enjoy that, too. I’ll ask the girls to put you on my chest and ask Momma and Sissy to help. Good point on the dancing.”

“That sounds really good. I’ll certainly sleep well tonight.”

“You will if I have anything to say about it,” Renee said as she walked into the room, pulling Sally behind her. Sally had her thumb in her mouth, acting shy and withdrawn. “Sally needs a spanking, Dad. Seems she was supposed to keep ‘Little Miss I need to cum’, here, busy and keep her mind off her problems.”

“OKEY Dokey. I can help with that!! Over my lap, little girl. Count ‘em.” I pulled up the little skirt she had on. With my cupped hand I did as little damage as I could.

“One, Daddy.” “Eeek, Two, Daddy.” I couldn’t do it. I smacked her softly eight more times as fast as I could, causing Sally to start laughing, “Threefourfivesixseveneightnineten, Daddy.” Then Renee and Emily started laughing and jumped on me, telling me what a worthless disciplinarian I was and how much they loved me.

“Thanks ladies. I try.”

We got the house straightened. It’s pretty easy when there’s ten of you and everybody gives a shit about their living arrangements. Five of them didn’t even live there, but they considered it home and helped out. They also had clothes and things they kept there that needed washed, folded and put away. But in any case, our chores got done. Then we relaxed, chatted about life, had a cocktail, chatted about love, and went to shower in packs of three or four.

The packs were never the same, and always amenable. It was an interesting concept. This really was a love affair. A ten-way utopian love affair. To date, not even a glimpse of jealousy or rancor of any kind surfaced. Might it? It might. But it hadn’t, and I was keeping my fingers crossed. It wasn’t like I was in charge or anything, I’m not that delusional, but still. Anything I could do to maintain happiness, I’d do.

We got cleaned up and dressed up and waited for our ride. I was surrounded, once again, by beauty. My wife was in one of her dancing outfits, Satin granny panties and all. She spun for us and there they were. Emerald green on a cute little bubble butt. Below them, teak stocking tops held by a matching green garter belt. On her feet, gorgeous green satin 3-inch Mary Jane pumps. The ones with the little straps over the foot to keep them on during a dancing storm. That was my wife. I saw that the dresses Julie and Sally wore tended to tent out from the hips but not far enough to flip up. Thigh holsters. Good idea, girls. The other ladies all had nice cocktail or dinner dresses and each was attired and footed appropriately. I say appropriately, but I was not the judge, here. These women were not just dressing for me. They enjoyed looking, feeling, acting, being glamorous, gorgeous, and sexy. They thrived on it. I fed off of it, but it was their doing. Their actions, my benefit. Maybe that was the true measure of our relationships. We enjoyed each other for what we enjoyed together.

In any case, the driver was impressed and said so. In front of God, the girls, and anyone else listening, he said I was a lucky man to be accompanied by so many beautiful women. Julie had gone ahead and asked for the shuttle van. She spoke to them about it, and even though it was a couple dollars more, it was less cramped for head room. It held a few less people, but there were only ten of us. I, for one, was happy about it. I don’t care for stretch limos, due to the trouble of getting in and out.

Their attire was appropriate in more than one sense. Both Julie and Sally were in 4-inch T-strap pumps. I have a feeling they were dancing shoes that they could ... use. The others were in a mix of styles, all about 4 inches to the ball of the foot. Some platforms, some not, all fabulous and on the ends of legs encased in nylons ranging from beige to black. Eddie was wearing a loose hanging flounce skirt. I think she was going to be showing off tonight as well. Her waltz steps had the girls enamored with her as a partner. This was going to be fun.

The dinner side of the Oasis was busy out front, but I was actually happy about that. We looked good. I wanted my girls to be seen. Maybe I should have worn a tie. Oh hell, I didn’t want the hassle tonight. As I handed each of my girls off the bus, Shirley and Jen first, to remind the others of how it’s done, I got a kiss and a short hug from each. When I had all nine together, Renee, Emily and Sally led the way to the maître d’ and then our private corner. It wasn’t really a room, but was private with quarter curtains out from the walls. And dark except for the lanterns on the tables. I sat close to the middle of a long table, across from Natasha. Shirley had one end and Renee had the other. Pets filled in where they felt the most at home, but it looked nothing like one would have thought. Jen sat between Shirley and Natasha. I had Eddie between Shirley and me, and Emily on my other side. Sally and Julie sat either side of the judge, and Jane was between Julie and Natasha. I guess the Sally thing was the closest to “normal”. Just proved that we weren’t normal.

Julie had also ordered dinner, so we were all eating modified surf and turf samplers. It was excellent fare, but light. A little brownie and ice cream for dessert finished the meal with a flair. The brownies were on fire when served. I had never heard of brownies flambé, but the brandy in them made for a very tasty treat.

“I’d like to thank Julie for putting this together. The ride here was nice, the ride home will be just as nice, I’m sure. The dinner was exemplary. She can thank the staff. I’m thanking her. Would you all join me in a toast, please?” Each of the girls was given a glass of wine with dessert. “I’m not going to get carried away or get mushy or unrealistic.” I cleared my throat. “Thank you all for all you do. My life is enhanced each time one of you is in my line of sight or in my thoughts. To my loves.” We sipped.

“Now, a problem. I see five collars, on six of my girls. Sissy, come to me, please.” She rose and slowly approached me. “Stop.” I kissed her briefly. “Shirley, please join me. Renee, if you will. Sally Broderick, you have more than once stated your intention to be a permanent part of our family, to be one of our pets, a child, a love of ours to have and to hold for as long as you choose. Do you pledge your love to us? Your loyalty? Will you wear our symbol to that end?”

Tears rolled across her smile. “I do pledge my love to you all. I do pledge my loyalty to you all. I will wear the symbol of our love and our loyalty. Thank you so much for accepting me. It means more than you know.”

I kissed her. Shirley kissed her. “Turn and face your Momma.” She did, but not before I saw her eyes start to crinkle. I took the collar out and laid it across my wrist, same as I had done before. “Sissy, this collar is a symbol to be worn to remind you of your pledge and to remind us of our responsibilities to that pledge. You are my Sissy Girl. You are Renee’s Sissy Girl. You are Shirley and Natasha’s Sissy. Renee, please address your Sissy Girl and place her symbol in position.”

Renee was a little choked up as well. “Sissy Girl. I love you with all my heart. This collar does not represent control, but instead acceptance and reminds us of our pledges and responsibilities. I love you, we love you, without bounds.” She kissed her Sissy Girl and put the ends of the collar up for me to latch in the back.

Emily came running up and threw her arms around her sister, Sally, and they hugged and kissed and cried a minute or two, then each of the girls did as well, checking out the platinum collar set with Topaz stones, engraved with ‘Sissy’ centered over ‘Without Bounds’ and tags reading Momma Renee and Daddy Chuck.

It was about time for the dancing to start. We had two round tables, next to each other. Five of us at each. The occupancy of the tables changed so often and seating moved so much that it was hard to tell who was where. The first set of songs and dances warmed us up. Julie and Sally both warned me there were a couple of trouble makers at a couple of tables behind us. They weren’t together, but they were with other people. Mostly it was just boisterous talk about the dude with the bitches, or the nerd with the hos. I know how guys talk, but nerd? Please! Now I was incensed.

“Thanks, hon.” I said to them, loud enough for the others, the guys, to hear if they were listening. “Girls, just be careful and watch who you dance with. Warn them before you go to the dance floor of exactly your intentions with them so there are no misunderstandings. OK? I don’t care what you do, you are big girls, but they’ll need to know that before you accept.”

Jen spoke first. “I remember my pledge. If you wadn’t in my bed last night, I ain’t dancing witcha! I am NOT going through that shit again.”

Julie spoke up. “I like that rule. Eddie was there last night, right? I gotta learn to waltz like that, sugah.”

“Yes, I was in bed with you last night. You forgot my foot playing with your bottom? I am offended. How easily you forget foot massage from engineer in waiting. Hummphhh!” Laughter ensued. “Oh, I like Kitten rule also. No snoogie, no boogie!” Eddie finished, laughing hysterically.

“Snoogie? Eddie, that was weak, at best, but cute as hell.” Emily continued, “I will refer to that as Rule One. Rule Two, is do not ask twice. Please. Then see rule number one. Thank you.”

Jane and Sally agreed, and said they were only interested in dancing with family. Again, our jubilation was below a roar, but could be heard. Easily.

During the second set, Emily and Jen were taking turns with Eddie, practicing the waltz. Eddie showed them a way that they could all three dance together that looked very fun for a trouple. They were interrupted by a guy, I think one of the ones Julie mentioned earlier, asking Emily for a dance. She politely declined, citing her involvement with another, and dancing with the girls. He wasn’t rude, just acting a little put out. And went back to his seat. After a few numbers, the girls came back to the table, and since I was between dances, Emily held out her hand, cocked her head and asked if I had just a little energy left for a slow song with a little girl that loved me very much. How can a guy refuse that?

We headed out, and started up, me drawing her to me and her following. Emily was an excellent dancer. She could follow really well. And closely. Thank God. When the gentleman, and I use that term loosely, came out to the floor to ask her why she would dance with me, but not with him, she let him have it. After all, he asked for it. “What I said, Mister, was that I was involved with another and out dancing with those girls. This is the involvement. My significant other, if you will. Now, if you will pardon us?” The guy stood there for a second then cocked his fist. I was in a good enough position to shake my head, calling Julie off. She was behind him. I swept his foot from his light leg and put him on his ass. Sally and Julie were on either side of him at this point.

“If we show you our panties will you leave us alone?”

“What? You’re crazy. You’re going to show me your undies after he put me down?”

“Yes. Pay attention. Pay close attention.” They lifted their skirts so he was the only one that could see. They were both wearing Satin granny panties. And holsters, one with a revolver and a badge, and the other with a purple Kahr and a cute tattoo. Washable. Just a finger and some knuckles. “Were you paying attention?” He nodded, went to his table, finished his drink and that’s the last we saw of him. We weren’t leaving until one or so, so we doubted he’d wait that long to start trouble.

Back at the table we passed around the word that Julie or Sally would be on all of our girls’ potty trips. No one had a problem with that. Except me. Gender discrimination. White male privilege my ass. It was no use. I got no sympathy. But I did get another Crown rocks! And a girl to dance with.

Renee and I did two medium slow dances together. She talked into my ear, “Lover, do you ever intend to collar the three of us, or are we just expected to know you own us?”

“Is this my girlfriend, Renee, speaking or the triumvirate?”

“We’ve discussed it. We all agree. We all want it. Most probably equally as much.”

“Renee, this is something we need to talk about and I need to think about. I understand the implications, but do you? Does Shirley? Does Natasha?”

“Yes, Yes, and Yes. I heard a story about a young lady who met a man, a good man, while she was crying, afraid, and lost. He took that lady home. A noble gesture. Do you remember what her roommate said when she opened the door? She called you an upgrade. Have you any idea of the upgrades you have been in our lives? You don’t. We do. Nine times whatever is whatever times nine. It may sound silly to you, but to we three, and us nine, that’s a lot. Speaking for myself, you have something no other man will ever have again, and I will tell you something you have to be very careful with, but it’s true. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. Anyone. I’ve been in love three times. A girl in college. She tore my heart out. Yet, she pales in comparison. My husband. Losing him was hell on a stick. I thought I would die. You are the only man I have ever met that has surpassed what we had. You own me. You own my heart. You own my soul. This isn’t melodramatic crap. This is real life in the world of adults. If you think any of us is your slave, a thrall, a plaything, look at this one. I am that, and more.”

We danced toward our table, and I motioned for Shirley to come to me. “Honey, find me a ribbon. Maybe on a vase or something, but I need a long piece of ribbon. Find three, they’re small.”

Her eyes lit up and she squealed. Oh, shit. ‘Don’t make a scene, honey’, I said to myself. She ran off while Renee and I danced. I wasn’t giving this one up until we were done with this set of vows. We danced around the floor, dodging and weaving around all the other couples. When we got back to the table, Shirley was there with three ribbons. Black, yellow, and green. How do women do this stuff? Their dresses were ... I doubt I need to say it. I took the black ribbon and held it up to Renee’s neck. “Renee Overton, do you submit to me always and in all ways, giving yourself to me, and wearing my collar as a symbol of that submission?”

“Yes, Chuck Colton. I submit my will to you. I am yours. You own me. Do with me what you will. You are the last stop on my journey. There will be no other man in my life.”

I tied the ribbon around her neck, with the bow in the back. It looked somewhat like a collar. I kissed her deeply.

Natasha handed me the yellow ribbon. She held up her hand. “No need. Yes, Chuck. I submit my life to you. I am yours. You own me. Do with me what you will. You saved me from certain doom. You and my Eddie and your loves. No other man will touch me with my permission, for eternity.” I tied the ribbon around her neck, moving the bow to the back. This one looked more like a birthday present. I kissed Natasha like a sailor kisses his girl after a six-month cruise.

Shirley, my wife, my love, handed me the green ribbon and also held up her hand. “No need for me either, Darling Husband. I submitted my will to you when you asked me to marry you. I was yours then, I am yours now, and forever. I was yours since Hollywood. Well, maybe a day or two later, but probably then. You have owned me since the first time you made love to me and will own me until my heart stops, and longer. Do with me what you will. Shape me, use me, make me a better person, like you’ve been doing with me for the last two years. No man will ever take your place in my heart, my soul, or my life. No other man will ever be important like you are to me.”

I placed the ribbon around her neck, and kissed her. Really kissed her. She was the mother figure of this family. I turned to the other eight of them. “I present my life, my love, my wife, the matriarch of our family. You have no idea how proud I am that you beautiful creatures have chosen me to love. No idea.” My eyes were getting very wet.

A loud, obnoxious guy went up to Natasha and asked her to dance. He held his hand out like he was going to grab her. She recoiled so fast his head spun.

“What the fuck, lady, I just wanna dance. Come on.”

“No,” she told him.

“Yes, come on.” He reached out again.

She recoiled again, bumping a chair, then pulling it in front of her between them. “No, I dance with husband, not with you.” She let the accent out. I stepped up when he was about to say something, and shook my head. He backed up a step.

“She’s got a cute accent. She’s your wife?” Natasha nodded. “What about her, then.” Eddie nodded and backed away from him. “Or her.” Jane nodded and stepped back. “What the fuck. They can’t all be yours.” Funny as hell, all nine of them nodded. “What the fuck. I call bullshit.”

“Buddy, were you here earlier when the guy on the dance floor fell on the floor and we showed him our panties?” Sally was talking sing song, teasing with him.

“I saw something like that. What’s the big deal? You showed him your undies, so what?” He came back with a sneer.

“Sit on the floor under that table back there and we’ll show you our panties. I promise. Maybe more.” It was an out of the way area, almost a hallway off the room with the dance floor. “But if we do, you have to leave us alone and tell your friends to also, OK? You gotta promise, or no panties.”

“Fuck it. What the fuck. I promise. Come on.”

“You first, then sit under the table and lean back.” He was close to spastic by then. He did what they said. He must’ve been drinking quite a bit. I mean just doing what these pretty women told him to do was tantamount to stupidity. But, he did it. And boy, did they give him a treat. High heels, stockings, holsters, a badge, and pretty satin panties.

“What the fuck! Cops. What the fuck! Crazy cops, too. Lemme outa here. Bitches. Fuck you.” He was on his feet and out of the club in no time at all. Sally and Julie held hands and laughed. They saw him come back in and go to a table in the back. He didn’t even look at us.

Nice thing about the dance clubs in the city. Better class of people. More population to pick from. It’s the same reason that most 5A schools can beat most 1 and 2A schools in most sports. More talent to pick from. I digress. We needed to find a bar where the girls were observed, but respected. One or two might work out easier, but I had nine dates, and I had to show them all a safe time. At least the big dummy got to see some pretty panties. We probably couldn’t get away with that in the city, but then, we wouldn’t need to.

Third set of songs was a gas. All ten of us out there for two or three songs, then back to the table for a break, and a drink. Then dancing. The next two fellows, who obviously hadn’t been watching our tables earlier, were much more polite about the refusals. Another one got an explanation. Jen told him, flat out, “I had a problem when my boyfriend flew me to San Diego one night. A guy wanted to dance and I didn’t. He was mean about it. He got hurt pretty badly. It didn’t have to happen. He was stupid. Since then, I have a rule. I won’t dance with anyone who wasn’t in bed with me the night before. Oh, and dumbass, I said the night BEFORE. Now, I was polite at first. I won’t be again. Please leave us alone.”

He was not happy, and made that point very clear. He started to say something, but she just looked straight at him and shook her finger back and forth. Buddy, the panty checker, came and laid a hand on his shoulder. “These bitches ain’t worth it, bubba. Come on, let’s go. These ain’t the only chicks in the house.”

We were not bothered again, and my bodyguards didn’t flip their hems to any more idiots. Good thing, too. I really didn’t care if the girls danced with other men. Honest. I just didn’t want them treated poorly, and that seems to be fairly common in today’s club environments. I think a trip to that country club I took Shirley and Jen to when I met them would be a good idea.

“Ladies! Shirley, Jen, how are your flight lessons coming? We haven’t really discussed that recently.”

“We soloed and we have our private tickets. We’re doing the instrument thing, then this summer we want to go to Wichita for a few weeks or so. It’ll take a few trips, actually. We’re already studying the G5000 avionics.”

“You’re kidding. Already? Do you want to fly yourselves down or do you want me to take you down and use our plane? We can rent you one for a week, or maybe buy a little 172 or 180 or something.”

“Yes, already, and when we’re minimally certified then we can help. We wanted to talk to you about that. Later. Maybe at home tonight or tomorrow. And, no, not the first trip. No jet flying involved. Mostly simulators. Wait, did you say OUR plane?”

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