Chapter 70: Unexpected Turns

November 26, 2000, Saint Martin, Leeward Islands, Lesser Antilles

Annette and I got out of the tub when the water cooled, took a quick shower to rinse off the suds, dried, dressed, and went down to the kitchen to make lunch. After lunch we went to the beach for an hour, then returned to the house to cuddle on the couch to watch Notting Hill, a movie Annette wanted to see, and to which I agreed, despite having an extreme dislike for Julia Roberts. I didn’t say anything to Annette about that, and together we enjoyed the romantic comedy. After the movie, we took a walk, then came back to the house to cook dinner.

After dinner we watched another romantic comedy, Three to Tango, a movie I hadn’t even heard about. It was pretty good, and played up the failed ‘gaydar’ of a rich businessman who asked a guy he thought was gay to take care of his mistress for him. It was a foolish mistake, and I knew from twenty-five years of knowing gays and lesbians that there were no obvious signs and no unique attitudes or behaviors which gave away sexual orientation. There were certainly some who were very public about it, but as was the case with a couple of NIKA employees, it was simple to keep it private if you weren’t into public displays of affection.

When the movie ended, it was dark enough for us to head to the secluded cove. We hadn’t made love all day because Annette wanted to make love all night under the stars. I was a bit concerned about her not getting any sleep before school, but she reassured me everything would be fine and she’d just go to bed early on Monday evening.

When we arrived at the cove, we couldn’t take our usual spot as it would have been in sight of another couple, so we simply moved down the beach a bit so that their silhouettes faded into the dark sands. We spread our blanket, undressed, and lay down together. We had nearly nine hours, so we were in no rush. We kissed, touched, licked, and sucked for quite some time before we finally coupled and began to make gentle love to each other.

“If you could have one wish,” Annette asked, as we moved slowly together, “what would it be.”

I could game the question by saying something that went beyond what I was sure was the spirit of her question, so I rejected the immediate thought I had, and narrowed it down to one person.

“That my friend Jorge didn’t die,” I said. “And you?”

“That I had met you before I was with Marc, that this, what we’re doing right here, right now, was what my first time was like. With a strong, but gentle man like you who knows how to please a woman and who makes her feel special, the way you did with Jeannette. My virginity was wasted on Marc, who wanted a notch on his bedpost.”

We kissed for a bit and Annette had her first gentle orgasm of the night.

“I can’t even describe how it feels,” she sighed when it had passed. “You move inside me and touch me in the most amazing ways, and my pleasure grows until my entire body feels as if it’s on fire. And that was just a little one. The big ones are beyond even describing, especially when you cum in me as it happens.”

I kissed her.

“I’m very happy I can pleasure you this way.”

“All night,” she said with a deep sigh. “Make love to me all night.”

November 27, 2000, Saint Martin, Leeward Islands, Lesser Antilles

We got back to the house just before 6:00am on Monday morning where we took a wonderful shower together, after which I made breakfast. We ate, cleaned up, and then Annette gathered her things, put her bag over her shoulder, and I walked her to the front door where we exchanged a soft, loving kiss.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I think that’s what I’m supposed to say!” she protested.

“I’m thanking you for the wonderful long weekend and for the time we had together.”

She smiled, “Me, too. And for making love to me all night on the beach. I really hope you can come back before I leave for university.”

“I can’t promise because we never know what the future will hold, but I would love to come back.”

“And see Jeannette?” Annette teased.

“I wouldn’t mind, but if I came back, it would be for you and you would decide.”

“You’re so good to me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry I have to leave now, but school...”

“I know,” I said, then gave her a quick kiss. “I have work.”

She smiled we hugged, kissed again, and then I opened the door so she could leave. She made her way along the walk, turned, waved, and then disappeared out of sight. I closed the door, turned, and leaned against it for a moment, then went upstairs to pack my things.

“Leaving?” a female voice said from the doorway.

I turned to see Rebekah.

“In about thirty minutes,” I replied. “The car will be here to take me to the airport. How long are you staying?”

“Until next Sunday. The guys took a week off work.”

“Cool.”

“Knowing you, and knowing my cousin, I can say this - thank you for the VERY erotic show the other night!”

“Oops,” I chuckled.

“We were very disappointed that you chose to come inside after just one time!”

“Sorry to ruin your evening’s entertainment!”

Rebekah laughed, “Oh, it made us all so hot that we had PLENTY of entertainment! Though I wouldn’t have minded seeing you take those two girls at once!”

I laughed, hard.

“You and your cousin are absolutely on the same page there!”

“It’s so funny how much alike we are even though we didn’t grow up together and our dads were on the outs.”

“For sure. And I absolutely like you better with the long blonde hair.”

“Duh!” Rebekah laughed. “That’s the only way to have the cousin fantasy!”

“I think you need to talk to my friend Kurt,” I grinned. “He’s had the hots for Kara from day one.”

“That’s the one whose wife you’d bang at the drop of a hat if you could? Well, assuming she grew back her pubes!”

“I see Kara has filled you in on our fantasies.”

“She heard mine, too!” Rebekah laughed. “But I’m exclusive with my guys, so getting my brains fucked out by my cousin’s studly husband isn’t going to happen any more than your cousin fantasy!”

I chuckled, “The Blanchard girls are sex fiends!”

“So?!” she asked petulantly, sounding EXACTLY like Kara.

“That was an observation, not a complaint! May I ask about Lou and Josh?”

“Fully bi, which I think you knew, and like with you and your wives, sometimes I watch!”

“I rest my case,” I grinned.

“I’m going back to bed; I just wanted to say ‘goodbye’ and we’ll see you in Chicago sometime during Christmas break.”

“Sounds good.”

“Enjoy the flight back,” she said with a smirk.

“And what does THAT smirk mean?” I asked.

“You’ll see!”

November 27, 2000, Aboard the Gulfstream en route to Chicago

I rolled my eyes, grabbed my bag, and headed downstairs to wait for the car which would take me to the airport where I would find out what Samantha, Kara, or Rebekah had cooked up, or, perhaps most dangerously, the three of them together. I made some tea and sipped it until the doorbell rang. I grabbed my bag, went to the door, and then followed the driver to the car. Thirty minutes later, having been cleared, I walked onto the tarmac where the Spurgeon Gulfstream was parked. I saw LeeAnn, the pilot, but noticed that the co-pilot, who had her back turned to me, was not Jack, the usual co-pilot, who had flown me down on Friday.

I walked over to LeeAnn to let her know I’d arrived.

“Morning,” I said.

“Hi, Steve. We’re almost done with the pre-flight. Go ahead and get onboard and we’ll be ready to go in less than ten minutes.”

I walked over to the jet and climbed the stairs, immediately noticing that the cabin was configured with the sleeping berth. That made me VERY suspicious about whatever it was that Rebekah had hinted at. I didn’t see anyone else in the plane, even after checking the sleeping berth, but that didn’t mean another passenger couldn’t board at the last moment. I stowed my bag and sat down, and saw that taped to the bulkhead was an envelope which had ‘Steve’ written on it in Samantha’s distinctive, and bad, cursive. Of course, mine was non-existent, as I typed or printed everything, so I had no room to talk. I opened the envelope to find a note.

Steve,

Hope you had a great time in Saint Martin. Knowing you, and knowing what you were doing, I figured you might want to catch some shuteye on the plane. I had them configure the sleeping berth. When you get back to Chicago, call me. I have some things to discuss with you. Have a safe flight.

-Love, Samantha.

P.S. Holy shit is Florida a mess! And Gore is a complete weenie!

I chuckled because I knew Samantha had voted for Bush despite it being effectively worthless in Illinois because of the ‘winner-take-all’ method used in Illinois, as with most states, for electors. I preferred the district-by-district model where the overall winner got the two ‘bonus’ votes. Only two states had that system, and the chances that Illinois would ever adopt it were zero, as it was a lock for Democrats when voting for President.

LeeAnn came into the plane two minutes later, followed by the co-pilot who looked vaguely familiar, but whom I couldn’t immediately place.

“Buckled in?” LeeAnn asked.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll ‘kick the tires and light the fires’ and get out of here!”

I chuckled, “You had afterburners installed on the Gulfstream?”

LeeAnn laughed, “I should have known that a Navy brat who hangs out with Navy guys would know the meaning behind the phrase.”

“My dad was out of the Navy for eighteen years when I was born, I’m hardly a Navy brat!”

“It’s in the blood! At least one of your kids is going Navy, right?”

“Albert. How long did you serve?”

“Ten years and the assholes never let me fly a jet off the deck of a carrier!”

“I prefer nice, gentle landings to dropping a nearly forty-ton aircraft on the flight deck and trapping, going from flight speed to zero in a split second!”

“Wimp!” she teased.

“LeeAnn?” the co-pilot called. “Ready to start the engines.”

“Be right there!” LeeAnn replied.

It suddenly dawned on me who the co-pilot was, but I couldn’t immediately remember her name. She was one of the group who Kara and Elyse referred to as the ‘Saint Martin Six’, and one I had very much enjoyed being with. I couldn’t see due to the pilot’s blouse, but I recalled she’d had absolutely perfect, to-die-for, Steve-type breasts, and that our one and only time together had been fantastic. I combed the depths of my memory and just as the second engine started, I remembered her name - Louise Belleri, at the time Liz’s best friend. In the intervening seven years, I hadn’t heard her name, except perhaps once, and that was not long after the Saint Martin trip.

Rebekah’s comment was even more curious because I recalled that Louise had made sure she came to me in complete privacy, and requested that I not say anything to anyone about what we’d done together. Liz knew, but that was it, though, as I thought about it, I was sure Samantha knew, or at least suspected, and when Louise had gone to work for her, she’d planned something like this, just to tease me. It all made sense, now that I’d figured out who she was.

We taxied for a bit, waited our turn in line, then took off, quickly banking to the north to head for Chicago. Once we’d leveled off, I got a bottle of San Pellegrino from the mini bar and debated with myself about taking a nap. I drank the bottle of water, tossed the empty into the small bin marked ‘Recycle’, and decided I’d write in my journal rather than sleep because I wasn’t feeling tired. I was sure it would catch up with me, but I could sleep in on Tuesday if necessary, or if Jessica insisted.

I had just retrieved my laptop from my bag when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

“Hi, Steve,” Louise said softly.

I looked up and smiled, “Hi, Louise! How are you?”

“You remembered!” she said giddily.

I beckoned for her to lean down so I could speak quietly and she could hear over the whine of the twin jet engines and the rush of air outside the fuselage.

“How could I forget one of the most perfect bodies I’ve had the pleasure of seeing and feeling pressed against mine!”

She laughed, “With your list of girls?”

I smiled and gave a disarming shrug, “It’s true. How long have you worked for Samantha?”

“About two months. I got a degree in aeronautics, which basically came with a pilot’s license, did my certifications, and now I’m working on command certification in Gulfstreams. And she shares me with two other Gulfstream owners.”

“Very cool! Are you in touch with Liz?”

“Of course! I know all about you, Liz, and your business.”

“She never speaks of you.”

“I’m still a very, very private person, and she knows and honors that. She’s still the only one who knows we were together. Well, Samantha suspects, but only Liz knows.”

“Does Liz know you’re on this flight?” I asked.

Louise laughed softly, “She does. She’s still my best friend; I mean who else would let me watch when she lost her virginity?”

I suppressed a chuckle because I knew quite a few girls from the past twenty-three years who’d had no issues with an audience, including my sister’s friends Trish and Shelly.

“She’s a special person,” I agreed.

Louise smiled, pulled a small envelope from her pocket and handed it to me. On the front was my name written in Liz’s distinctive, and excellent, cursive. I opened the envelope and extracted a small card.

Steve,

I hope you recognized Louise and didn’t have to ask who she was. I know you well enough to think you did, but our minds have strange ways of playing tricks on us! And if you didn’t remember, I know you well enough that you could turn on the charm more than enough to not make Louise feel bad.

When she told me two months ago she was going to work for the joint venture Samantha has with two other jet owners, and when I found out you were flying down on Samantha’s jet, an opportunity presented itself. I made no commitments or offers, other than to write this note. You do what you think is best. Louise wants to be with you again, but if you remember her personality, she simply can’t ask you. I verified that she had a recent STI test and that it was clean. I’m your attorney and I would never lead you astray! :-)

If you’re interested, ask her. There’s no issue with the flight, as she just needs to be in the co-pilot seat for the approach and landing in Chicago; I verified that with Samantha. If you want my advice, and I assume you do given you hired me as your personal attorney and Consigliere, then I advise you to spend three hours making my best friend feel very, very good. No commitments, as I said, and no promises. Just do what you think is right.

Remember I love you; I always have; I always will.

-Liz

I folded the card and put it back into the envelope. I mentally shook my head in disbelief, as I didn’t want to actually shake my head, so as not to upset Louise. The temptation was there, and I knew from how I felt, that it was going to win. My concern was, as I’d expressed to Kara and Jessica, that I felt things were spiraling out of control once again. If I was with Louise, and I knew, in the terms of the Borg, that resistance was futile, I HAD to take some time alone and get my head straight.

“I think I’m going to lie down,” I said. “If your duties allow, I’d very much like you to join me.”

Louise smiled, stepped forward to say something to LeeAnn, then followed me into the sleeping berth. She shut the door behind us and moved the slide to lock it.

“Is that body still as gorgeous as it was before?” I asked.

“You’ll have to judge for yourself!” she said.

She quickly unbuttoned her blouse, shrugged it off and tossed it onto the chair. Her bra followed, then her shoes, socks, slacks, and panties. She smiled, spun slowly, stopping to face me.

“It is,” I said.

“And you’re still in good shape?” she asked, licking her lips.

I quickly removed my polo, then kicked off my shoes, pulled off my socks, unhooked my belt, then pushed down my jeans and briefs and stepped out of them.

“Nice,” she sighed. “Karate and running?”

“Yes.”

She stepped close in front of me and took my hands in hers.

“I’m still quiet, reserved, and private in public,” she said. “But like the stereotypical mousey librarian, public and private are different. That day in Saint Martin changed me in one very important way; I’d like to show you.”

“I’m yours to do with anything you will,” I said. “Short of injuries or obvious marks.”

Louise laughed, “No ropes or floggers or anything like that!”

“You have grown up!” I replied.

“Lie down and I’ll show you!”

I got into the small bed and Louise knelt on the floor next to the bed, grasped my semi-rigid shaft and ran her tongue around my glans. I looked on as she stroked and licked me until I was rock-hard, and then watched in amazement as she took me into her mouth and slowly lowered her head until her lips pressed on my pubic hair. She had deep-throated me in one smooth motion! She sucked for a bit, then raised up until only my glans was in her mouth, then lowered her head until once again her lips pressed on my pubic hair. I felt her hand move to my sack and she gently squeezed and massaged me while continuing to deep throat me.

About every fifth bob, she lashed my glans with her tongue for a minute while stroking me with her free hand, then took me completely into her mouth again. She was doing an excellent job of slowly building to what I knew was going to be an over-the-top orgasm, and I was proved right about five minutes later. When I felt the urge, I tightened every muscle in my body and held my breath until I couldn’t prevent the inevitable.