Chapter 1

Jenny Marie Jenkins was rushing around to get all of her last minute chores done. She had watered all of the house plants, canceled the paper and notified the post office to forward her mail to her sister. She was excited about the first trip she was taking with her husband, Joe.

He had been a mid level government employee for twenty years, and had accrued quite a bit of time off. They were going to Peru, to explore the Andes Mountains. He had made the trip many times himself, but this was the first time she was going to get to go along.

Joe had been an expert with the Homeland Security Department and had a fanatical interest in plants; orchids to be exact. He had written many papers on exotic plants that had been published internationally.

Unknown to many people, Joe had an online business of selling orchids. He had a small space he leased in the outskirts of Kansas City in the underground caves. He had a constant temperature of at least 50° year round, so the energy to keep it at a tropical temperature with controlled lighting was minimal. He had grown exotic orchids for years and sold them on the internet.

Through the years he had a very select clientele who were also experts and buyers of exotic orchids. They had developed buzzwords for select rare and illegally importable flowers. One of the most exotic and rare orchids was the Ghost Orchid (Polyrrhiza Lindenii); also called Palm Polly and White Frog Orchid from the fame with the non-fiction book called "The Orchid Thief" and the movie based on the book, "Adaptation."

It had been believed to exist only in an old cypress tree in Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary in Naples (southwest Florida). Joe had been able to conceal some spores and roots and take them to a spot in the Peruvian Andes, where the climate, sunlight and humidity were almost identical. It was also much easier to move these plants if they were outside the country, where oversight was much less restrictive. If he were ever caught, it was easier to bribe your way out of it.

All Jenny knew was that her geeky husband had a fanatical interest in plants, and was pretty secretive about it. She had a vague idea that he had been squirreling away money in several obscure bank accounts. She had seen letters from banks in Antigua. She had not seen any opened statements, so she did not know how much was in them. She did not know that most of the banks in Antigua were fronts for money laundering of drugs.

With the money transactions and illegal transfer of flowers being outside of the country, Joe was fairly immune to the laws of the United States. He had been pretty adamant about keeping his wife out of all of this, but he could not continually turn down her requests to go with him without raising her suspicions. He had reluctantly allowed her to go along with him just this once.

He should have told her that it was part of his job; that he was tracking other illegal smugglers and she would not be allowed to go along. Maybe he would use that the next time she asked. Maybe the mosquitoes and bad water would cure her of wanting to go anyway.

Both of them packed very lightly. They had mostly hiking clothes. Jenny was unable to get her husband to let her pack any nice clothes for going out. Her sister dropped them off at MCI. It was a short walk from the curb to the security checkpoint. They were through the scanners in minutes.

Jenny was wearing a dark blue Chicago Bulls baseball cap; a blue button-down collar oxford cloth men's dress shirt with the long sleeves rolled up and the shirt tails tucked into her cut-off blue denim Levi's. Her grey wool socks were folded back down over her dark brown logging boots that were laced up to just below her knees. Her long reddish brown hair was done in a French braid that cascaded down her back to just beyond her wide brown leather belt. Her golden brown complexion made her impossible to ignore. Heads turned; men and women. Her wire frame glasses made her look like a college professor in shorts. Her medium sized breasts pushed against the oxford cloth through the almost transparent panty hose material of her bra. Her long-stem pink nipples were easy to locate.

Joe walked about a half step behind her to enjoy the stares she was getting. It was a good thing she had shorts, because with her narrow hips she might otherwise pass for a boy. Anybody who might have missed her soon turned to see what everybody else was starring at.

When they finally landed at Jorge Chavez International Airport, in Lima, Jenny was getting excited. The smells, sounds, the climate gave her the Goosebumps. They booked a medium priced hotel and made provisions to leave with a rented jeep the next day. Jenny was able to coax Joe into going out for supper that night. Since they did not have any good clothes, they went down to the hotel dress shop to find something.

Jenny came out of the dress shop wearing some grey high heeled boots that stopped just below her knees. About the only dress that would fit her was a dark grey silk button front sheath that fit like a glove. The dress had long sleeves and stopped at about mid thigh. It must have been designed for a teenager, but Jenny looked great in it. She did not like the fact that the buttons stopped about a button and a half from the hem at the bottom and the top was open to the bottom of her breasts.

"You can't wear a bra with that dress, Senora. The fabric will show." The young sales girl said in decent English. Reluctantly, Jenny removed the garment and tucked it in her little clutch purse. Shyly, Jenny clip clopped out of the changing room to get her husband's reaction. "Wow. You look like the twenty-year old I married twenty four years ago. Why have you waited until now to dress like this?" Joe said with an astonished expression.

Jenny smiled sheepishly. It was some small comfort that he liked it even though she thought it was scandalous. This far from home, who would recognize her? She felt a little less self conscious, knowing they were anonymous this far from home.

Jenny wrapped her arm around her husband's as she picked her way nervously down the cobblestone sidewalk as they both window shopped and looked for a place to eat. They stopped at a very small restaurant that served food out of a window. It had two tables outside, bordered by a short wrought iron fence. The gnarled old man came out to take their order. They had heard of Paella; a saffron-flavored dish containing rice, meat, seafood and vegetables.

Jenny sat there, with her legs crossed. Her already ridiculously short dress was hard to keep in place. Jenny took solace in the fact that they were thousands of miles away from home. Joe reveled in the glances of appreciation from the men that walked by. "You are having a good time, aren't you?" Jenny whispered in half-hearted indignation.

"What are you talking about?"

"Those men are staring at me in this short dress, and you are enjoying it."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Joe answered with whatever indignation he could muster.

"I can tell you're excited." Jenny answered, looking furtively down at the rise in his jeans.

"Nobody knows us here. You are the best looking 44-year-old woman on the planet. Put your fucking arms down at your sides and take that god damned cloth napkin off of your lap."

Jenny was surprised at his sudden vulgar language. On the other hand, they were thousands of miles from home. Nobody knew them. Both of them were acting a little out of character.

Jenny blushed as she placed her napkin on the glass top table. She leaned back in her wrought-iron chair and forced herself to rest her elbows on the cold steel arms. The flaps of her dress at the hem seemed to have a mind of their own as they promptly unfolded and lay themselves on the sides of her thighs. Jenny was now bare from the top of her high heel boots to the last button above her crotch. Her cheeks burned as she struggled to hold her pose.

"Why am I shaking? Why am I blushing?" the middle-aged woman asked herself. Down deep, she had to know that she was about as beautiful as a woman her age could be, but her modest upbringing was hard to overcome.

By the time they were almost finished, one of the street performers came by and began some violin music for the couple. This began to attract a crowd. Beautiful music being played to a beautiful woman was more than enough excuse to form a crowd.

A tall black man stepped up to the metal fence. "Could I have this dance; please?" he said as he extended his hand to Jenny. He was easily over six and a half feet tall. He had western boots, boot cut Levis, and a brightly colored western shirt. His head had been shaved but he had a thick mustache and goatee. His English had a French accent to it; unusual for South America.

Jenny's hear almost stopped as she meekly and slowly turned her head to indicate "No." She forced a smile as she said "No, thank you" to him as she turned to her husband for support.

"What the hell, Jenny. We're away from home; remember?" Joe nodded and extended his hand with his palm up towards the black man. "I'll be right here. What can go wrong, Mrs. Jenkins.?" Joe smiled.

Reluctantly, Jenny allowed the man to help her stand. He guided her outside of the gated seating area and wrapped his arms around her. The violin started again. It was the "Blue Danube." Jenny was embarrassed by the attention.

"My name is Marcel; and yours?"

"Jenny; I mean Mrs. Jenkins. Jenny Jenkins," she replied nervously. The man put his right arm around her and lifted up her right with his left. He felt like a giant bowling ball under his flowered shirt. She could tell he was all muscle. She was mesmerized by his strength and agility as they moved slightly on the worn cobblestone walk.

Marcel held her firmly so she wouldn't stumble on the uneven pavers. With her right arm extended outward and upward; with Marcel's right arm around her, she was unable to keep her dress down. The pressure of his arm against the small of her back raised her dress dangerously close to the edge of her crotch. She tried to pull away, but was trapped.

Jenny looked over bewilderingly to her husband for some sign of indignation or support. All she saw was a big smile on his face and a noticeable rise in his jeans.

Jenny was done. She wanted out. "Thank You." She managed to whisper up at him as she tried to pull away. His arms were like a steel cage around her. If she tried to duck down or spin away from him, she would have pushed the dress up around her waist. She just prayed for the music to end. When it did, she managed to escape without insulting the smiling stranger.

Marcel guided her back to her seat. Joe pulled up an empty seat from an adjacent table. Jenny looked over at her husband with a "how could you?" expression. Jenny sat, crossed her legs and arms in front of herself in indignation.

Joe looked at her. Their eyes locked in a sort of mental telepathy. Joe looked down at her dress, and then at her arms. Without any words, she knew he was telling her to assume her previous position. Silently, the embarrassed woman leaned back in her chair. She placed her elbows on the arms of the chair and let the dress slide open to the view of the silent giant and surrounding crowd.

She was too embarrassed to really follow much of the conversation. The men chatted. Marcel did not try to conceal his observations of the beautiful woman beside him. Joe you are an extremely fortunate man to have a wife who looks like Jenny. In this country, they would mistake her for being about twenty years old. The women here age pretty fast. Joe thanked him for the compliment.

"Joe, I have to go attend to some business; unless I could be so lucky as to spend some more time with your wife. This is a dangerous country. Lots of things could happen to tourists here. I could offer protection to you and even make your visit very profitable." He said as he opened his wallet and placed several American hundred dollar bills on the table.

Jenny's heart stopped. He was propositioning them. He was offering to pay for sex with Jenny. "Kill this fucker." Her expression seemed to be screaming at her husband. Joe just sat there; expressionless. It was quiet for a long time.

"We are both flattered by your offer, Marcel. Maybe some other time. My wife has not had time to think about this. Maybe we'll run into you later." Marcel sat there for a while making small talk like neither of the men had considered this a big deal.

"You fuck head. Why didn't you kick his ass?" Jenny whispered in indignation after the man had left.

"Relax, honey. We are strangers; tourists here. You never know who you might need for help sometime. We can't afford to alienate anybody before we leave."

Jenny was furious. "Would her husband have actually considered sharing her? What would he really do in a pinch?" Her mind was racing. Joe gave her time to cool off before they walked back to the hotel.

By the next morning, Jenny had forced herself to cool off about the incident. They packed the few things they had into the rental jeep and took off. Joe knew where he was going. He had rope, climbing gear and lots of camping equipment. They drove for about a day and a half and made camp. Joe had already targeted a particular forest in the Andes with his GPS. He knew where it was. Finally he pulled out his binoculars and peered into the tops of the gigantic Cinchona; the South American source of Quinine. There in the top were several of the White Frog Orchids he had come for. They were worth thousands of dollars to collectors around the world. Joe had successfully been able to transfer them out of Peru many times and today would be no different.

Jenny watched, dumfounded, as her husband climbed up the massive tree. She did not understand much of what was going on. She was not able to see up in the tree as Joe cut many roots off of the White Frog and put them into his backpack.

The tiny roots would be almost un-recognizable in his backpack. It was amazing how much a few roots were worth to the Japanese businessmen. All he had to do was get them out of the country. Joe collected several other orchids while he was up there, to conceal the real object of his climb.

Once he was down, he took Jenny through several parts of the mountains. They took videos of the Vicuna, Guanaco and Alpaca that were living in the Altiplano region.

After a few days more of travel, the couple went back to Lima to return their car and board a plane back home.

Before they left, Joe told Jenny he had to go out for a little while and would be right back. Jenny jumped in the shower, thinking they would go out for dinner that night. She just hoped they would not run into Marcel again. While she was in the shower, there was a knock on their hotel door. Without thinking, Jenny hurried over to let her husband in. He must have misplaced his access card. Thinking she would surprise him, she slipped a skimpy t-shirt on without drying completely. I'll give him an eyeful, she thought as she tugged the hem over her crotch. With her body just out of the shower, the t-shirt might have been cellophane. The water soaked the front. Her long-stem coral pink nipples fought to bore their way through the wet shirt. Her shaven labia stuck to the bottom of the shirt. Her golden tanned legs and abdomen framed the alabaster triangle that surrounded her pouty cleft. She made no effort to hide anything as she innocently opened the door for anybody to see.

When she opened the door, a mountain of a man, Marcel, filled the doorway. He stood there. Jenny backed away in shock, and tried modestly to cover herself. Marcel walked in. Behind him, were two more black men with Joe between them. He was in handcuffs and looked like he had been roughed up quite a bit. His clothes had been torn, his face was bloodied, and his hair was messed up.

"What is going on?" Jenny gasped as she raised her hands to cover her mouth and pull the wet shirt away from her for some sort of cover.

"You don't know?"

Jenny shook her head slowly.

"Your husband has been selling the Ghost Orchid. It is almost extinct. It is forbidden to be transported out of the country. We have suspected him for years of selling them to collectors around the world. Only somebody who worked for an agency like your husband does could have figured out how to get things in and out of different countries without getting caught. Now we have him. His career is ruined. You are going to lose your house; the bank accounts in Antigua and the Bahamas. You will probably go to jail with him. You were in on this or you wouldn't be here." Marcel said as he walked behind her and pulled out another pair of handcuffs.

Jenny couldn't do much more than shake her head in disbelief. It was too much to comprehend all at once. She stood there numbly, as Marcel snapped the handcuffs on her wrists behind her. She was almost too numb to realize how naked she looked.

Finally, realizing how the men were starring at her transparent front, she started stammering. "P ... p ... p ... please let me put something on. Can't you allow me the dignity of putting on some clothes?" she said as she forced the words out.

With her hands cuffed behind her, she was unable to keep the wet shirt from sticking to her front. With her arms pinned behind her, her proud breasts were thrust even higher than normal. Her nipples shuddered up and down to reflect her trembling. She was unable to keep her shirt from riding up. She knew they could see everything as she felt the water dripping off of her wet shirt and down off of her alabaster vagina.

The room was quiet except for Jenny's weeping. The men shut the door and locked it. They sat Joe down in the middle of the leather couch and one man on each side of him. Jenny was backed up against the leather wingback chair facing the couch. As the back of her knees hit the edge, she collapsed into it, further raising her shirt. With her hands cuffed behind her, she couldn't straighten up or pull the shirt down. The best she could do was pull her knees together and turn her legs sideways to keep everybody from getting a straight on shot of her vagina. "P ... p ... please don't do this to us. Please let me get dressed. I beg you." She said unable to look up at anybody.