Chapter 12: Trip to France

With Ben and Boris' help, Jenny was on her way to France to meet Bruno Rossi. They had crated three of the prototype "Black Adders" into aluminum packing crates filled with Styrofoam protection around them. They left Washington and flew all night to Paris and arrived at Charles De Galle Airport early in the morning. They rented a large truck to drive to La Mans. They took a detour to Mont Saint Michele, to take pictures of the "Adder" against the stone walls. From San Michele, the drive took about half a day of driving through endless wheat fields and all the small towns with names made notorious during World War Two. Driving through those towns, Jenny thought about all the lives that had been ruined during the war by a few greedy people. She thought about the similarity between their ruined lives, and the situation her family was in. The greed of the bankers and realtors had made the people in the U.S. see a side to each other they might not otherwise have seen. She thought about all the terrible things people in France had endured during the war, and her own situation. She thought about Charlotte Rampling in " The Night Porter." Soon the spire of the Cathedral of Notre Dame could be seen in the distance. The highway signs showed the now-famous formula one cars. They were getting there. The GPS started giving more directions as the turns became for frequent when they got close to the Rossi Compound.

They arrived at a very modest looking very old farm. There were many old barns, and a high stone wall surrounding about twenty acres. Everything was beautifully maintained, but something didn't seem quite right for being a farm.

Ben, the owner of the tattoo parlor, had driven the truck containing the motorcycles. He went around and opened the door for Jenny, and helped her out. Bruno Rossi came out of the house to greet them.

Bruno was about twenty eight years old. He was in remarkable physical condition. His reputation was that he could still run two miles under ten minutes, and was famous for a wager he had won that had followed him his entire career. Somebody had taken a deck of cards, shuffled it, removed one card, and spread it out on the table. He was given ten seconds to figure out which card was missing.

His being a top motorcycle rider included skills of stamina, strength and intelligence. He was not a big man, but his five-foot eight frame was strong enough to bench press twice his one hundred thirty pound weight. He was well tanned from his time riding the French country roads.

He was equally impressed with this stunning older woman. She was wearing high heeled lizard-skinned western boots that barely showed under her black, stretch fit jeans. The jeans were high waisted like a flamenco dancer's, that stopped above where her waist narrowed. The jeans fit snug around her butt, down to mid thigh, where they flared to boot width just above the ground.

The jeans had a fly whose edges did not meet. The fly had about a two inch gap with brass eyelets along each side, like lace-up boots. A stretchy type of leather was used to lace the sides together, to keep the jeans up. There was no belt. The fly was cut to reveal her abdomen to the top of her vaginal slit.

Her white oxford cloth shirt sleeves showed about an inch of cuff sticking out of her bolero cut sequined leather jacket. The white shirt stopped even with the bolero just below her breasts. The white dress shirt had only two buttons; one at the bottom, and one just below the middle of her breasts. She had no bra.

Her long reddish brown hair was loosely woven into her signature French braid. Her outfit was topped off with a wide black Stetson that fit tightly down to just above her ears. She had a faint smile which hinted of shyness, apprehension, curiosity, and an eagerness to please.

Ben introduced everybody, and Jenn extended her hand to shake his. Bruno ignored it and gave her a warm hug. He was entranced with her beauty.

Bruno gave them a tour of his compound, and spoke slowly, but clearly in the English he had been forced to learn because of his celebrity status. Jenny was starting to feel comfortable, and intrigued with this project.

Bruno was a motorcycle rider who hired out to race for all the leading motorcycle manufacturers, but had his own projects as well. The different "barns" in the complex were actually garages which housed many different motorcycle projects.

The aluminum crates were unloaded from the truck, and the motorcycles were taken out. Bruno was fascinated with the project, and took one out to ride on the country roads.

Over the days that they were together, Jenny did not have to bring up the reason she was there: to talk him into riding for them in the La Mans competition. He had gotten so engrossed in the project it had not come up yet.

Bruno had some ideas of his own. He had been trying to develop a customized prototype of rotary engine to use on a motorcycle. Combustion engines have hundreds of moving parts, and a missed shift could easily blow the engine from over-revving. The rotary engine had three moving parts and exponentially higher acceleration.

The great concept of the Adder was its low weight. It would be an incredibly gas-efficient means of transportation. The rotary engine was so powerful; it would be hard to keep this bike on the ground. They had to work on some kind of balance.

Finally, things seemed to be coming together. They took the bike to the La Mans track to try it out. When Jenny came down for breakfast that morning, there was a big box on her dining seat. She opened it to find a full-face crush type Bell Helmet, a black leather racing suit with "ADDER" across the back, and her name in small white letters in the top left area next to her shoulder.

Bruno said that when Sikorsky tested a prototype helicopter, he put his entire staff of design engineers on a platform which was lifted by the new helicopter. They knew this, and it was strong incentive to not be careless.

Bruno was going to have Jenny take the first few turns around the Bugatti Circuit. He wasn't afraid about its safety, but was trying to give her the honor of participating in it.

When they got there, she rode it off of the truck down the unloading ramps. She was shaking so badly, her knees wouldn't hold her up. Tentatively, she started around the track. She took a few laps to get familiar with the turns, then went about eighty miles per hour for one lap. Her nerves got the better of her, and she refused to endanger the project by riding any more.

Bruno got on and spent about an hour going around the track slowly. From time to time, he would stop and make some adjustments. Finally, he spent about an hour going full bore around the track. "I like it!" he said as he pulled off his helmet. They loaded the bike back up and went back to the farm.

Bruno said: "Jenny, I would like to take you out to dinner tonight. Would you like to go into town?" There had been little personal interaction between them up to now. He told her to get dressed. She went up to her room to change.

When she got up there, some clothes had been laid out on her bed. Her white dress shirt, bolero jacket, black leather knee-high boots, and some denim short-shorts were there. Bruno had gone to the tailor and had them make the shorts with the fly copied from the jeans she wore when she had arrived.

Jenny was apprehensive about being displayed like this in public. Just when she was becoming comfortable, she was being thrust back into an embarrassing situation again.

Never the less, she dressed as instructed. When she came down the stairs, Bruno and Ben were stunned with her beauty. She had kept her hair in the loose French braid that went down to the top of her shorts. Her tanned legs were framed by the boots and shorts. The bolero jacket, jeans, and her arms framed her tight muscled abs. Her bolero jacket and opened front dress shirt did little to conceal her beautiful pink nipples when she moved her arms or turned her body.

Bruno tossed her the full-faced helmet and put his arm around her as he led her outside. He had a new 1200 cc Ducati that was painted a matt black. There was no chrome. Bruno got on, pushed it off the center stand, and looked at Jenn. She put on her helmet and slid on behind him. She kicked down the foot pegs and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her right foot off the foot peg and pulled her leg up around him and into his crotch. He reached down to the other foot and did the same. This was embarrassing to her, but an incredibly provocative sight to the farmers along the road. Without the balance of her feet on the foot pegs, she had to hang on with a death grip with her arms and legs.

Down the country roads they went, weaving around cars, carts, and scooter. The seat had her positioned higher on the bike than him. Out of necessity, she rode with their helmets almost locked and her chin over his shoulder. She was petrified in both terror and excitement as the motorcycle swayed around under her and the wind kept her braid pointing straight out away from her like the tail of a cheetah chasing a gazelle.

The streets of France are narrow, with many square corners. The buildings have small sidewalks separating them from the cars. They finally stopped in front of a series of bistros, with their open fronts, sidewalk seating and wine glasses on white tablecloths.

The hustle and bustle of dishes and chatter pretty much stopped when the two riders pulled up in front of the café. Bruno steadied the motorcycle as Jenny took her feet out of his crotch and swung her legs over the bike to dismount. The two riders in black on a matt black motorcycle were stunning. Even with helmets on, there was no mistaking them for two men.

Jenny took off her helmet and tucked it under her arm. Dozens of cell phones went off as her nipples became exposed with her pose. When Bruno took off his helmet, even more flashes were seen, because he was a celebrity in this small town that is world famous for racing. They were instantly let to one corner of the outside dining with a beautiful table for two in the sun. The customers were enthralled with this beautiful, obviously older woman being led by this celebrity rider with his arm around her waist.

Jenny couldn't have made a more incredible marketing and public relations event if she had tried. The pictures were passed by text messaging to the press, who quickly ferreted out the story of this new prototype being tested at the track. It would soon be front page local news that was leaked everywhere.

Who was this provocatively beautiful woman and what was she doing with this champion racer?

"I guess I'm sorry I brought you her Jenny. I didn't think there would be this kind of publicity in the off season around here. If I had come in a car, maybe nobody would have noticed. I have a number of obligations to different manufacturers who pay me a lot of money. If I win on your motorcycle, that might hurt their business. I don't know if I can follow through with my intentions to race your motorcycle. What if I beat everybody?" Jenny's mind raced. She thought they had a done deal! What now? They chatted about the fun this project had been, but she was desperate for an idea to sway him.

After they finished dining, he led her back to the motorcycle with his arm around her, and she around him. When they got back to the motorcycle, she grabbed his hand and tugged him away. Let's go for a walk, she begged, trying for more time for an idea.

They walked hand in hand up a cobble stone walk past more shops and cafes. She didn't know where she was, so Bruno talked about the history of the town. As they continued, they passed an alcove, about ten feet square, that was recessed back from the rest of the street. She didn't recognize the name, but Bruno explained that it was a very small hotel.

Jenny was desperate, and wandered back to the only type of persuasion that had been successful for her. She grabbed both of his hands facing him. Without words, and a pleading look in her eyes, she backed up to the door and tugged him through it. Slowly, it dawned on him what she was up to. She walked backward up to the front desk. The man either didn't or refused to speak English.

She pulled out her credit card, drivers license and passport and placed it on the desk. The clerk made her sign the register, ran her card and gave her a receipt. There was no elevator. They walked the three flights up the narrow creaking wood steps and she opened the door with the computer card the clerk had given her. She tugged him in and closed the door.

Jenny walked around the suite with one hand on Bruno, examining the rooms and amenities. The living room had a nice balcony with an eight foot sliding door. She opened the door and slid the curtains back. They could see the cathedral of Notre Dame, the shops below, and the beautiful scenery beyond.

Jenny led Bruno over to the couch and pushed him down into it. She walked over to the open balcony and turned to face him. Without speaking, she looked at him to see what he was doing. She took the time to numb down her mind. She took several deep breaths and reached for her bolero. There were no buttons, so she shrugged it off, folded it up and placed it on a nearby chair.

Jenny reached up to undo the two buttons holding the skimpy dress shirt together. She walked over to him and held out an arm. He took the cuff link out of it and put it on the end table. She held up the other one, and he did the same. She walked back to the balcony again and stood in it again. She looked out at the beautiful scenery as she took of the blouse. She folded it and placed it on the bolero while watching the people below.

Being on the third floor was a long walk from the street, but too close for anyone to think she could not bee seen. The balcony was above the entry in the recessed alcove. Anybody passing by could see her if they looked up, but most attention was at sights on the street level.

Jenny turned to face him, finally revealing her nudity to the waist. She turned sideways so that she could lean against the open balcony door. She slowly unlaced the fly of her short shorts. With heavy hands, she reluctantly slid the shorts down over her thighs. She bent over at the waist to lift the shorts out of her boots. She stood there, sideways with the brilliant afternoon light casting brilliant streams across her bronzed body as she slowly folded her shorts.

Without taking off her high heeled boots, she walked over and stood in front of Bruno. She kneeled down in front of him. She took off her wedding and engagement rings and placed them on the end table beside her cuff links.