Chapter 16

I have a jet.

Until I found myself trying to decide what to do with myself over the Christmas Holidays, I hadn’t thought about it much. Between being injured and recovering, my days were pretty regimented. Once my body recovered my need for activity and adventure returned.

As Emily left for Phoenix, Melissa was a wonderful diversion, but Samantha occupied my mind. Something about her blatant sexuality and playfulness entranced me. Della was often available for a quick and dirty round of sex, while Melissa avoided me but not in a rejection kind of way. It was more like she was embarrassed by her naked fantasy and what I learned about her from helping play it out. Either way, I didn’t see the potential for a sequel anytime soon. It was time to get out of Dodge and see something, go somewhere, and find some spark to get me going again.

But first I needed to find out how to arrange to use my jet. To do that, I needed to ask Danielle. She would undoubtedly know how I could use my jet.

So I did.

To accomplish that I turned over in bed and tweaked her nipple hard enough to get her attention but not so hard as to turn her crank to the full on position. “OHHHHH... ,” she groaned when I pulled her to me using only her left nipple. “Where did you learn to touch me that way? I swear you look at me and I tingle. When you pinch me, I shiver and when you abuse my nipple like that I want to come and come.” She was happy to be back beside me in bed, and we were making the most of the afternoon.

“So,” I began. “If I wanted to get out of town and go do something fun who would I call to see about using that jet Andrea sent home with me?”

Danielle smiled in a very seductive way. She was obviously thinking about getting down and dirty now that I started her engine. Thinking about business wasn’t nearly as much fun, so I used my abundant oral skills and gave her what she really wanted, then returned to the discussion of a vacation trip.

Danielle gave me a number that would connect me to a service that would contact my pilot whenever I needed to go somewhere. “I am sorry, Carl. I had no idea you hadn’t used the jet because you didn’t know how to reach the crew. Honestly, I should have foreseen that and taken care to make sure you had all the details available from the start. I hope you can forgive me...”

Forgive her? She had Mr. Johnson in her hand, about to re-introduce him to the inside of her throat, and she needs forgiveness? “Danielle, with you so busy taking me to the Promised Land, I don’t think forgiveness is a problem here. But, O.K. You got it, lady. I forgive you.”

We spent considerable time negotiating the terms of her forgiveness, which included numerous occasions in which she was reduced to panting, screaming, pulling my hair, and scratching my back.

But...

When we were done, she was fully and properly forgiven.

It was mid-morning the next day before I decided to call and have my jet pre-flighted for an afternoon departure.

My Jet, you know...

I have a jet, after all...

It’s mine...

All mine...

The fire hydrants thought they were going on an all-expense paid trip to the Florid Keys until I disabused Frick and Frack of that notion.

About that jet of mine? It comes with a crew, one of which is a drop dead gorgeous brunette, with perfect breasts, and great legs, named Lori. She introduced herself to me as I waited for my crew inside the FBO at Kissimmee Airport. “Hi, Mr. Fleming. I’m Lori, your flight attendant. We will be ready as soon as you are onboard and belted in. I understand you wish to go to Key West this afternoon and we should be airborne within twenty minutes and on the ground at Key West in about an hour.

“If you will follow me, I will get you all ready for departure.” Lori was youngish, about twenty-seven, not tall but not too short. She was about five foot three and right at one hundred and ten pounds, which made her round in all the best ways.

Her breasts caught my attention immediately and gave me something to think about as the pilot got us ready to go. I thought and thought about those breasts until Mr. Johnson decided to rise up and see for himself. That got slightly uncomfortable when Lori brushed her hand across him as she belted me in. I blushed when her hand touched my erection and she smiled without comment. I was thinking plenty of things but, “no comment.” wasn’t one of them.

The jet was moving the second I was safely strapped in and our departure was immediate. We did not stop at the end of the runway for other traffic, so there must not have been any. Once we were up and away from Kissimmee, Lori came to see if I needed something to eat or drink. I knew exactly what I wanted to eat but chose to be a gentleman instead of offering to enlighten her. It was a good plan, because she sat across from me and we began to talk like new friends.

“I am a student at Valencia, here in Kissimmee, Lori said in response to my question. “My classes are all over the board as far as time, so when I got this job a few months ago, I knew that I’d have times when I had to miss class to pick up and leave. My instructors are all pretty cool with it, and encouraged me to try and make a go of school and a career, especially since this could lead to bigger things.” She was bright, energetic, anxious to please, and pretty. Adding it all up, I knew I liked what I saw and heard.

Lori continued as if I didn’t stop to think about her first response. “My folks moved to Florida when I was small. I don’t remember Massachusetts at all. It’s just a place we went every couple of years to see family.”

After about thirty minutes of conversation, Lori said, “I can tell this isn’t your first ride in a private jet. You aren’t nervous, or keyed up. When the FBO sends me out on trips, because of how they act, I can almost always tell who has done this before and who hasn’t. I’d say you’ve done this a lot.”

I stopped talking quite as openly when I realized it might be hard to explain why the flight attendant thought I was an old hand at riding in private jets. There are things that will always be a risk as long as I live. Being careful what I say would go a long way towards mitigating that risk.

We chatted about mundane things for as long as it took the pilot to announce that we were on approach to Key West Airport. Lori hopped to her feet and prepared the plane for landing, which consisted of helping me fasten my seatbelt and looking around to make sure nothing was lying around that could go airborne.

Once we were parked at the FBO I hopped out and was met by a driver and a Lincoln Town Car. The reservation was for a beachfront condo at the intersection of A1A and Bertha Street, right on the Atlantic Ocean. The condo was perfect for my needs and miraculously available a week before Thanksgiving. Rather than take a chance on my mercurial moods, I rented it until after New Year’s. Without worrying about lodging, I could come and go as the mood struck me, and if I liked it enough, buy one after the Holidays.

The condo was on the fifth floor and looked straight out into the Atlantic. Before getting busy exploring the island, or partaking in the nightlife, I found myself sitting on the balcony doing nothing but watching the waves roll in. It was later afternoon before I roused myself enough to go in search of supper, and on Key West there is no dearth of opportunities for good food and amicable company.

Antonia’s nearby, up Duval Street was just what the doctor ordered. It offered fine Italian food, prepared by real Italians. The Condo had a staffed front desk because it was a vacation destination and cost so much to rent. The front desk attendant made me a reservation, and I set out on foot to work up an appetite. The hostess found me a table that backed up to a wall. That allowed me to sit on the soft seat instead of a hard chair, and I settled in to enjoy my meal.

People wandered in over the course of the next ninety minutes, finding old friends, new acquaintances, and good food waiting for them. The pasta was perfect, as was the chicken and dessert. I was stuffed and enjoying the warmth of a full belly when an angry woman and an annoyed man walked in. They had clearly been having words about something and brought it to the restaurant with them. When the woman made some comment that cut to close to the bone, the man slapped her hard, and would have hit her again had I not stepped between them and caught his wrist as he drew back his hand to strike.

We stared at each other for a long moment and he tried using the other hand. That was not a good idea when he found that I could hurt him quickly to make my point that you don’t hit girls. He groaned as I ground his wrist bones together, stopping just short of breaking them both. When he looked in my eyes he saw an expression so blank that it should have terrified him, as I was putting enormous pressure against his wrist. He was too drunk to know what was good for him and I was prepared to help him with a quick lesson.

Finally giving up, the lout relaxed and dropped his other hand before finding out just how good his health insurance was. It was close but he escaped major injury. I had made up my mind to put a hurt on him if he tested me any further. Rather than discuss his problems he cursed the woman and stormed out.

To cover the moment, I quickly stood and offered her the chair across from me, gently taking her elbow to steer her into the seat. She was silently crying as she sat down and hid her livid red face behind her hand. Whoever she was and whatever had happened between them aside, she needed time to pull herself together. I filled that time by ordering her iced tea with mint, and a generic appetizer so she has something in front of her to help normalize how she was feeling.

For a long time I said nothing as the woman tried to get her emotions under control. After ten minutes she raised her eyes to meet mine, smiled an embarrassed smile, and said, “Thank you. Herman was not himself this evening.” Her smile gave her age away. She was past forty but put together very well. One did not have that kind of figure at forty without serious exercise and healthy dieting. Her skin tone was superb, as was her muscle tone – what I could see of it.

When she smiled I did too. “I’m Carl, and I hated seeing you abused like that. Does it happen often?”

She smiled a little more fully. “I’m Maura. My associate, Herman is a drunk when he’s angry and angry almost all of the time. We work together and came down here to finish up a condo project that is off the rails. He got into a little scrape involving a young woman who – depending upon who you believe – was either minding her own business when Herman decided she should bow down and worship him, or she was a ten dollar hooker who took his money and refused to put out.

“My money is on the first. Herman is quite unmanageable when he drinks, and rather insecure the rest of the time. When you stepped between us I expected him to hurt you, but whatever you did certainly got his attention.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me for rudeness. I am so very thankful to you for keeping him from hitting me again. The firm made me take him to dinner to fire him, so he wouldn’t make a scene and maybe hurt someone. That didn’t work, as he demanded to know what was going to happen and then hit me anyway. If you hadn’t been here, I am afraid of what he might have done.

When I leave here I’ll have to hire a police officer to see me back to my condo, or he’ll be waiting to finish what he started...” She drifted off thinking about dealing with an enraged Herman. Maura was still shaken but trying to get over the attack. Herman only slapped her, and her reaction made me wonder what might have happened, or what she imagined might have happened if he wasn’t stopped.

“Something tells me that Herman might not be anxious to use his right arm for the next few days. I put a good hurt on it and any exertion is going to hurt – a lot.” My smile said that was just fine with me, and her puzzled look told me she didn’t know what I meant.

“When I put his arm in that hold, he tried to jerk it loose to hit us both, but I pressed down on the nerve so hard that I know it will hurt for days. Herman will be careful what he touches and won’t be able to lift anything too heavy for at least four to five days. Don’t worry about him tonight.”

My smile was infectious, and she laughed thinking about Herman’s pain. “I will walk you to wherever you are staying and I promise you that Herman doesn’t want anything to do with the pain I put in his wrist already. If I have to do it again, it won’t go well for him. Do you need to phone in and report his attack?”

Getting her thinking about work proved to distract her from the way her coworker behaved and helped her get back to normal in her mind. After making mindless small talk, Maura decided she would take me up on my offer to buy her dinner and try to relax enough to enjoy it.

We talked for over an hour about nothing, letting our conversation wander all over the map. Maura was from Minneapolis, where her company was headquartered. They built condos for upscale professional people and Key West was a hybrid project for them. “We looked at our client base and realized that all these people have to go somewhere for vacation, and why not build something that would appeal to them,” Maura was passionate when talking about work. Her eyes danced as she described the way the project got off schedule and her attempts to right the ship. “Our general contractor farmed it all out to subs, who don’t really care when they get things done. We’re from the north, where it matters a whole lot!” Maura was animated and excited. Her eyes sparkled in the incandescent lighting.