Crystal Clear - Book 3 of 3

by Robert Wolf

More stories about Jim Mellon and Crystal Lee

©Copyright 2013-2024 by Robert Wolf

No part of this story may be reproduced, copied, or used for commercial purpose(s) without the express written permission of the author. This includes using any part of the story on websites other than those selected by the author.

DISCLAIMER:

 This story is a fictional parody, and is neither true, nor approved of by the celebrities named in the story. The use of real places and names in the story is only to enhance the realism of this fiction. The Supreme Court of the United States has ruled that parodies involving famous people are perfectly and totally legal under the United States Constitution. The specific case law on this was decided in the case of "Hustler Magazine, Inc. et al. v. Jerry Falwell" in 1988. No harm is intended toward the celebrities featured in this story, but they are public figures and in being so, they must accept that they are fair target for parodies by the public. The author believes in the first amendment, and more broadly, in the basic principle of free speech, but the United States Supreme Court has approved of this type of material, and the author believes that the Supreme Court was correct in their decision.

This story is Book 3 the long-awaited continuation of the Road Trip series. You need not read that series to enjoy this one, although reference is made to events and characters in that story to tie this story and that one together. This story is fiction; well, most of it is.

Chapter 42 - Music and Movie Prep

After breakfast, Dan took off to go back to his office in Nashville; at our request, he committed to be back with us around the dinner hour. Terry, Crystal, Ellen, Claire, and I worked on picking songs from the ‘Fake Books’ Terry had brought the day before. We spent two hours; marking various songs in one book with various color markers and stick-on tabs so we could quickly come back to our favorites. When we finished, we’d narrowed the list from about two-thousand songs in the book down to fifty; including those on the list Claire had produced.

As we turned page after page, Crystal would enthusiastically say things like, “Oh, I love this song; we’ve got to include it.” I didn’t feel as strong as she did about the songs, so I later suggested the album title be ‘Crystal Lee’s Favorites’ or something similar. Moreover, we had something from everybody - Irving Berlin, Gershwin, Beatles, Chicago, Fitzgerald, Broadway, and Sinatra to name a few.

After our selections, Claire played the keyboard, and Crystal and I sang each of the songs once through. I found myself surprised at how good we sounded when we weren’t doing country, although with Crystal’s dusty voice every song she’d ever sing would sound like pop country.

Ellen sat at the large mixing board, and recorded each of our songs. The recordings wouldn’t be used except by a small group at Sony Music who would listen to our session and see whether the initial concept of an ‘old standards’ album seemed like a good idea. Ellen also documented our comments about our selections on her laptop. When I questioned her, she said, “For the album insert; of course.”

Nadia brought us mid-afternoon snacks, and around seven o’clock, a bottle of wine, glasses, and some cheese and crackers. She sat and listened, even softly singing background harmony on a few songs she knew. Terry had sat quietly making his own notes until Nadia joined us; after that, he sidled up behind her and nuzzled her neck affectionately as the pair just listened to us and made approving statements.

Dan snuck into the back of the studio. Much to our surprise, he picked up one of the acoustic guitars and played along with Claire’s accompaniment. Until that instant, none of us knew that Dan played a musical instrument. Our ensemble sounded so good to us, that Crystal and I had everyone join in when we went back to some songs we’d already done and sang them with the group.

A week later, Terry heard back from Sony. They loved the music, as crude and unrehearsed as our demos had been. Further, they had picked twenty of our fifty songs they preferred for the album; they’d narrow down further at a final cut. Terry got Billy and the band rehearsing the music so that when we got with them for the full recording sessions, everyone would be on the same page.

While we’d waited for Sony to decide on the demos, Ellen - under Terry’s direction - had led us in the selection of songs for the Christmas album. We spent more time with these songs, since Sony had been the one suggesting this album, and we knew all we had to do was get the right mix of songs.

Thus, as we went to work on the standards album, Ellen sent the demos of the Christmas songs to Sony. We heard back the next day on those songs; Sony had picked fifteen of them for a single CD album.

We worked with Billy, a songwriter and arranger Jake Randall, the rest of the band, Ellen, and Claire over long days for the next three weeks doing the two albums. As usual, we laid down some songs after two or three tries, but a couple of songs each took over a day to get right.

We no sooner got finished than Terry started to beat the drum about the new movie again. Apparently, the production window was getting closer.

One day, Crystal and I were coming back from a run we’d done together. She stopped with me at the meditation spot way back on her property, and we each sat in silence and meditated for a half-hour.

As we walked back home, Crystal asked, “Are you all right with all this rushing and deadlines and stuff? When you were on your road trip, you were a pretty laid-back guy who seemed to want a lot of free time.”

I responded, “Good question.” We walked along in silence, as we were prone to do while I did a little self-analysis. “A couple of things come to mind. First, I enjoy the work we do - even when we’re rushed and have deadlines. I’ve always loved music, and now I have a job where someone pays me to do what I love. Many people would call that their idea of heaven.”

I continued, “Second, I have you in my life. Some days, I pinch myself to be sure I’m not in some dream.”

“Third, and related to the other two, I thought the bubble might burst at any moment. That someone would suddenly announce my career was a sham, you’d vanish on me, and I’d be sitting in the sand in the middle of the country wondering what happened - and before you say anything, I know that’s just me being insecure.”

Crystal put her finger on my lips, “Before you go on, I just want you to know that I’m not going to vanish on you. I really do love you with all my heart and soul. You’re the most interesting and complex person I’ve ever met, and it’ll take me at least a couple of lifetimes to even start to figure out how you work, so have no fear about my sticking around. Oh, as for your singing, do you think the millions of people who bought your album or concert tickets thought you were a fake; hardly - they all love your music - our music. It’s fabulous. You even got a Grammy or two for it.”

I kissed her finger as she pulled it away. “Fourth, in my laid-back days around when we met and along my road trip, I had lost one dear love of my life. I still quake to think how fast Karen went from healthy one day to dead thirty days later. I guess some of the busyness in this part of my life, helps me forget about that time, the grief I felt, and the shattered plans we’d laid out. In bad moments, I worry that it’ll happen to you or someone else that I love.“

I thought for a minute, and God bless Crystal; she didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence. Despite the chilly morning, we sat on the stairs up to the pool deck. I eventually continued as we came up on the lawn. “You were there at the turning point in my life. Heck, meeting you was THE ‘Big’ turning point, but I was thinking of when you, my sister, and my sister-in-law - Karen’s sister stood naked on that beach in California and spread the last of Karen’s ashes into the Pacific Ocean. That day brought such closure to the first part of my life.”

Crystal asked, “What were you like as a computer geek? Laid back?”

I chortled, “No, I was sort of as I am now. I liked it when we had rush jobs and deadlines and crises. The same when I was in the military; I hated sitting around waiting for a mission. When we started on a mission there were always a crisis, deadlines, and situations of life and death. That’s when I started to fire on all eight cylinders and hum along in top performance mode.”

I went on, “So, do I miss being laid back? Oh, a few minutes here and there, but overall, you, Terry, Ellen, Claire, and everyone around us that keeps us busy, each propel me into my high-performance pattern.”

I felt Crystal shiver against me. I nudged her up, and we walked inside just as the autumn sun broke over the southeastern stand of trees. She said, “So, as we start this movie - Downslope - you won’t mind the chaos it’ll bring for the next six to nine months? Plus, Terry’s putting a concert tour together in the middle of that, too.”

“I’ll love it - so long as you’re along with me.” I squeezed Crystal’s body to me in a side hug.

Nadia came and kissed both of us. The little minx wore only an apron over her sexy frame; thus, when I pulled her to me, I could cup my hands around her bare tight buns that made up the greatest ass in the world. She squirmed in pleasure as I pulled her against me to kiss. Nadia’s breasts oozed out around the bib part of the apron, so as we parted, she made a production of tucking them back behind the white opaque material of the apron. She scolded me as she turned and pointed to our breakfast laid out on the kitchen table.

* * * * *

The Grumman Gulfstream V hummed along at 41,000 feet. I’d swapped seats with the copilot. The pilot, Ken Tew, gave me a thorough run through on every instrument, dial, switch, and knob in the cockpit. Increasingly, I found myself interested in flying. I’d had forty hours of pilot training in Special Ops, and even soloed and did some cross-country trips, but I’d never bothered then to get my license. I also learned the rudiments of operating a helicopter.

As Ken went from dial to knob to switch, more and more of what I’d learned twenty years earlier came back to me. I resolved to put in some time and get a pilot’s license.

The sleek corporate jet was our charter from Nashville to Los Angeles - or as a pilot might write in his logbook BNA to LAX, a distance of about 1,600 nautical miles. Besides, the copilot who sat behind me reading various approach plates for LAX on his iPad, Crystal, Ellen, Claire, Terry, and Dan sat is the plush leather seats in the back. Judging from the mountains beneath us, we had just started to cross the Rockies.

I thanked Ken, and reluctantly returned to my cabin mates. I sat down across the small aisle from Terry; he looked up from his iPad. I could see he’d been working on a large calendar.

I asked, “What’s our schedule for the coming weeks?”

He chuckled, “I’m trying to fit two weeks of your time into one week. Crystal too.”

Crystal’s ears perked up at the mention of her name. She looked up from the book that she was reading, and I gestured for her to join us. She came and sat in my lap. We shared a smooch.”

Terry went on, “First off, I had an email this morning from Sony Music. They like all the stuff we’ve sent them except they want us to rework four songs on the standards album. I figure a week for that work.

"

Terry continued, “Second, Monday the main cast of Downslope is supposed to start their read through of the script with the screenwriters. They’re looking for places where the dialog needs to be reworked, plus they want you two, Claire, and Barry to really start to get into your characters.” A simple read through could take a day or two, but they want something more complex, so I’m guessing another week. After that, Sony wants the director to start shooting, at least some of the indoor shots.”

He went on, “Third, I need to plan out a North American concert tour for you, and fit that into the production schedule for the movie.”

Crystal asked, “How much of the movie will be shot in the U.S.?”

Terry shrugged, “My guess is all the indoor scenes will be in L.A. I’m not at all sure, but some of the ski scenes might be done in Utah or Colorado, depending on the quality of the snow. The bulk of the outdoor stuff will more than likely be done in Switzerland or Austria - the Alps. That is a focus of the film’s plot.”

Crystal whispered, “I’ve never snow skied - only water skied.”

Terry’s head whipped around to her. “Oh, shit. That’ll be a problem.” He looked at me, “Jim?”

I acknowledged, “Not a problem here; I grew up in New England. I learned to ski at age four. I’m rusty at it, but after a few runs, I could probably manage an intermediate slope without any problem. Give me a few days, and I’d even tackle an expert slope.”

Terry said, “You remember Jason Lake; your stunt double on Pressure Limit? I think he’ll be doing some of your action shots.” He turned to Crystal, “I think the studio is lining up a stunt double for you, too. Hopefully, she’ll know how to ski.”

Crystal said, “When I saw all the skiing in my script, I did some research. There are two ski areas near LA - Big Bear and Snow Valley. The problem is everything I read said to go midweek to avoid the crowds. They both rent equipment and have people who can give you private lessons. They’re about two hours from L.A.”

Terry chewed on that information for moment; he just nodded to indicate he’d taken in those facts. He waved Crystal and me away; “Ask Ellen to come up - change seats with her. She and I need to rethink this entire schedule and dove tail it to what the movie people want.”

Crystal went back to her book. I swapped seats with Ellen, and sat across the small aisle from Claire who had just awoken from a nap. She stretched like a cat on a sunny windowsill and gave me a smile that clearly displayed the love she felt for me. I reached across and held her hand.

Claire said, “Can I come and cuddle with you?”

I smiled and opened my arms to her. She unbuckled her seat belt and came and sat in my lap. I cuddled her into my body with her head nestled against my neck. Crystal saw us over her shoulder and gave us a warm smile. I think she understood better than I did about Claire’s insecurities about doing a movie that would be so public.

I asked Claire, “Hey, babe. Can you ski?”

“A little. I haven’t been for years. I learned as a teen, and then did a little skiing on a few of my … my ‘dates’ as an escort. I had a couple of playboys who would ‘buy me’ for long weekends, and we’d go skiing. I’m not that good, but I can do well on green circle slopes.” She chuckled, “Plus, I looked really cute as a snow bunny. I’m eagerly awaiting that part of our movie making.” She paused and whispered in my ear, “I fuck like a bunny, too.” She bit my earlobe. I wrapped my arms more tightly around my beautiful friend, put my head back on the posh seat back, closed my eyes, and allowed the comfortable feeling of being loved to sweep over us.

* * * * *

The Oceana Beach Club Hotel in Santa Monica became our home away from home again. We had a suite on the top floor for the six of us - Crystal, Ellen, Claire, Terry, Dan, and me. We had a large living room with a master bedroom off each side of the room. We’d arranged for one bedroom to have two king-size beds in it; the other slightly smaller bedroom had one.

One might have thought the hotel staff might have raised an eyebrow about such an arrangement. Not once did we ever sense any judgment about the arrangement, and the staff surely knew we were all single adults. Terry speculated that they were so used to dealing with the comings and goings of people in the entertainment business, that our requests might be modest compared to others. His postulate made me curious about what these other requests might be. I wondered if we were missing something fun.

To get a jump on the aggressive agenda Crystal and I had encouraged Terry to adopt, we started to work six days a week, and often twelve to fourteen-hour days. The second week in L.A., Crystal chartered a helicopter to take her to and from the Big Bear ski area on Wednesdays. She was there when the slopes opened, spent the day with a private instructor, and flew back to L.A. at the end of the day sore, but starting to get the hang of skiing. The physical activity took its toll; she fell asleep on those days right after dinner. She repeated her lessons for six weeks.

Our sleeping arrangements, which included sexual games, were fluid about who ended with whom. I started with Crystal, but a couple of nights later, I found Claire in my bed for two nights, and then Ellen for the rest of the week.

Ellen and Dan flew off to San Francisco for two days and nights to arrange a series of talk show and TV appearances for Crystal and me. While they were away, I got a command performance to spend an evening with Tina Devoe - our mentor at Sony who lived not too far away in Santa Monica. That evening, Terry had the onerous duty of pleasing Crystal and Claire.

Just as Tina and I had finished a beautiful dinner, she’d had catered; my cell phone buzzed telling me I had a text message. I opened the unit, punched in my pin to unlock the device, and there was a text from Dan and, I presume, Ellen - a sext message. The message contained two photos. One showed a nude Ellen leaning back and holding her breasts up for the camera with a sly smile on her face; she sat Indian style so every bit of her nether region showed as well. The second one was a close-up of a man’s cock halfway into a woman’s pussy, and given the source of the sext message, I accurately guessed whose cock and whose pussy I was viewing.

I laughed out loud at the audacity of the photos. I sent back a smiley face.

Tina came and looked over my shoulder at the photographs. Apparently, she’d shed some clothing while I’d been messing with my cell phone because as she sidled up to my side, I felt her bare breasts against my arm. She was delightfully nude from the waist up.

Tina looked over my arm at the pictures. “Oh, that looks like fun.”

I rubbed my upper arm against her hardening nipples. I asked with a smirk, “Do you want to send a reply photo?”

Tina puffed up her chest and held each of her breasts out to me. I took that as a ‘Yes.’

I changed apps on the iPhone, took a close-up picture of Tina’s gorgeous melons as she held them again, and sent it off to Dan, and then added Crystal, Terry, and Claire to my distribution list.

About two minutes later as I slathered over Tina’s breasts with my tongue, my phone chirped again indicating a new text message. Tina nudged me to see what had arrived.

Opening the phone, I found a sext message from Terry. The picture showed two wet pussies side by side - Claire and Crystal’s. Each woman spread her labia so her pink showed; the tunnels of love looked so inviting. I could feel myself harden further as I guessed at the rest of the party they must be having.

Tina said, “Send them a picture of mine … please.”

I helped Tina lose the last of her clothing, dropping her skirt, and pulling a lacy thong down her trim legs. I kissed her exposed pubes. Tina lay back in an upholstered living room chair and pulled her legs back. She reached down with both hands and grasped her sexually swollen labial lips and pulled them aside so her love opening gaped wide for the camera. I reached in with my index finger, and sank two knuckles into her quim, and took the photo holding the camera in the other hand. I sent it to the others with a happy face. That apparently ended our photography sessions for the evening, plus I had some splendid and pornographic pictures of my friends to enjoy at a moment’s notice.

Despite the cool night, a very naked Tina helped me strip down to my birthday suit, and pulled me onto her balcony overlooking part of the city and Ocean Boulevard. Tina leaned against the railing and pushed her ass out to me with an inviting wiggle. She said, “We’ll begin here and finish inside. I loved getting fucked out here by you like we did a few months ago.”

I can take a blunt hint. I had gotten hard from the photographs and some of our foreplay, so I moved behind her, and soon had my rod sawing in and out of her body. Tina’s breasts swayed from side to side until I grabbed ahold of one and pinched her nipple. My other hand slipped lower and found her clit. She let out a loud shriek into the night as I delivered her first climax of the night. I briefly worried that someone would call the police, but no sirens punctuated the night as I continued to work on Tina.

After Tina’s third orgasm leaning against the balcony railing of her fourteenth-floor condominium she said, “Come inside or maybe I should say ‘Cum inside’. I want to be able to look at my handsome and buff date as we fuck each other’s brains out, plus there are other positions I want to explore with you other than this ‘balcony doggie’. I also have a couple of toys we might use on each other.”

We uncoupled, but before we moved, Tina kissed me passionately, pushing her curvy body into mine. I wrapped my arms around her. She then slithered down my chest, running her tongue down to my erect shaft, swallowing the entire swollen stick in one gulp.

As Tina gave me the blowjob of all blowjobs, I looked out at the stars, the traffic, the other condos, and the overall city, wondering how many others were out there enjoying similar bliss from such a beautiful woman.

Chapter 43 - Concert. Chance Meeting

I think our rendition of the song brought tears to nearly every eye in the arena. The song was Perhaps Love; it was a cover for one done years ago by John Denver and Placido Domingo, except Crystal and I had added our own touch to both lyrics and melody shifting the song into a romantic ballad of the country music genre. I could tell we’d seriously moved the audience because as the last bars of the song died out, the stadium was deathly silent for a full five seconds before the applause and cheers started.

Crystal and I hugged, and just that act made the volume of the acclamation double in volume. We took another bow, and then ran down the steps of the raised stage holding hands. Before we even reached the door into the inner corridors of the stadium, the crowd started to chant, “More. More.” After a minute, the crowd’s mantra changed to Texas Dawn. We’d purposely saved that song for our encore, because it was the biggest hit record that we’d had besides The Naked Truth.

As we’d rehearsed, Crystal stopped just before the door, and pulled me back to her. We were in the spotlight. We talked, as though she had to talk me into the encore. Eventually, I gave an exaggerated shrug, and we ran back to the stage to the pleased clamor of the 70,000 fans in Lucas Oil Stadium, on the edge of Indianapolis.

We stretched out Texas Dawn to a ten-minute encore much to the delight of the crowd, with Crystal and me going through the song once, before we gestured to our entry portal for Cindy Wonder to come and join us. Cindy was the lead singer in our opening band, The Hobo Palace. The three of us traded leads on the song, and did duets, and threesomes of various verses until we’d run out of perturbations. Some of our backup singers joined in too, and then Billy our band leader got involved in a couple of verses. As we ended, we all took a huge bow, and headed off in the ‘real’ end to the concert.

Terry and Ellen met us at the door from the crowded arena into the patchwork of under-the-stands corridors. They led us to what we called the green room, particularly interesting since at this arena, the room was tastefully done with almond walls and framed posters of the Colts, the previous year’s Final Four, and various other performers that had appeared there. I noticed one poster was from our tour the year before.

Cindy threw her arms around my neck, pushed her small voluptuous body against mine, her large breasts pressing against my abs, before she pulled my head down for a long kiss. As we broke apart, she said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can’t believe I actually got to sing three songs with you tonight including the encore.” She had tears of joy in her eyes. “I so love you guys, and so love singing with you. How can I ever repay you?”

Crystal stood next to us. She smirked and asked, “You really have to ask how to repay us?” She gave Cindy a lustful smile that clearly communicated her depraved plans for the night. I joined in with the same look.

Cindy punched me in the arm, and then threw herself into Crystal’s arms. She looked deep into Crystal’s eyes and announced, “Oh, I am so going to bring you off tonight. You’re going to have a fucking orgasm off my little sexy tongue like you’ve never experienced before.” She turned to me and added, “And, I hope your plowing in my little tight pussy with your mammoth cock when I do.” She blushed at her language.

Crystal laughed, “I hope your actions live up to your promises.” The pair gave each other open mouth kisses. I watched the mouths drop open of a couple of band members in the room that didn’t know of the history between Crystal and Cindy. I think they wondered whether they were joshing each other. They weren't.

Ellen looked on with great curiosity and chimed in, “I hope that offer might extend to Crystal’s sister.”

Cindy gave Ellen a lecherous grin and said, “Oh, this is going to be such a fun night.” She looked at me and said, “I hope you’ve eaten a lot of oysters. I never want to stop at ‘just one’.”

Terry joined us with his barrage of accolades. He hugged Cindy and then Crystal, and although they’d been together all day, he also hugged Ellen. A young waiter appeared with a tray of freshly poured beer, wine glasses, and champagne flutes. I noticed one wine glass looked like a Chardonnay topped off with ice - my standard drink of choice. The four of us helped ourselves, and then sat in some of the posh seats around a coffee table. The waiter went on to some of the band members who also had filtered into the room, leaving the packing of their instruments to some of the roadies.

We did a little review of the performance, talked about the arena, and then talked about the movie Crystal and I were working on - Downslope. We were slipping one or two weekend concerts into our schedule after working on the movie during the weekdays. We were a month into this kind of schedule, and already suffering the need of some ‘down time.’

As that topic went around, Terry asked Crystal, “What would you rather be doing right now?”

Crystal gave him a lustful look.

Terry adopted a peeved look and said, “I mean instead of sex, the movie, or concerts.”

Crystal thought and said, “I’d like to go skiing; it’s my new favorite hobby. I’d love to go somewhere other than Big Bear Mountain or the simulator in LA. Those are fine for lessons, but I want to test out my new skills on a real mountain somewhere.”

Crystal already possessed athletic skills and a trim body. We worked out together almost every day, both running about five miles and hitting one of the gyms in whatever hotel we were at. Until two months earlier, Crystal had never snow skied, however, she’d packed into her schedule a tough regimen of weekly ski lessons and cross-training that had brought her up to the point where she was comfortable on intermediate-level ski slopes. Her training focused on a full day at Big Bear Mountain, and an indoor ski simulator in Beverly Hills that she did one morning a week.

Terry said, “Next weekend, we have a Friday night concert in Houston. I could arrange our flight back to LA to stop in Aspen or some ski area like that. Would you like that?”

“Heck, yes,” Crystal practically shouted.

Ellen said, “I’ll get on it.” Crystal’s sister loved to handle the logistics for our concerts; a task Terry was glad to delegate to her. She had even started to take on many production responsibilities from him in her role as both agent and assistant to us.

,

Cindy volunteered, “I love to ski. May I come, too?”

I added, “Of course, the more the merrier. Besides, you’d be so fine to curl-up naked with in front of a roaring fire après ski.”

Cindy playfully punched my arm; however, I could tell she liked the idea.

* * * * *

Despite the near-freezing morning temperature, I went for a run. Crystal had moaned when I suggested she join me, so I tucked the blanket in around her and headed out of the Indianapolis Marriott.

I hadn’t gone very far before I started to slowly gain on another runner in front of me. She seemed to know where she was going, and I didn’t, and so I fell in about ten paces behind her. I studied the black and purple Spandex running pants she wore with a matching jacket. She was around five-foot-five, a brunette, and had long slender legs, muscular, but shaped well. She held a ‘seven-thirty’ pace that proved she was no newbie or wanna-be to running - that’s seven-and-a-half minutes a mile; further, I felt she loped along and had more speed she could throw into the run if she wanted. She wore a wide knitted band over her ears; a jet-black ponytail flailed around behind her as she paced along.

I never saw her turnaround; however, after a mile or so, without turning, she yelled over her shoulder and gestured with one arm, “Why don’t you come up and join me instead of running in my slipstream.”

She didn’t break pace, but I put on a spurt of speed until I ran along side the woman. A quick glance let me know she had a beautiful face. The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile as I came into view. She said, “I could hear you back there. I figured you weren’t the every day pervert or else you wouldn’t be running at this pace.” She laughed at her own humor. “Besides, I can run faster than this.”

I nodded and smiled. “Thanks a heap, and so can I.”

After a few steps, she said, “I’m PJ.”

I gasped out, “Jim.”

We nodded at each other, and made a feeble attempt to shake hands while still running.

She said, “You visiting? Staying at the Marriott? I had the feeling you came from that direction.”

“Yes and yes. Heading back to LA this afternoon.”

“No foolin.’ I have a two-thirty flight to LAX.”

“What takes you out there?” I asked.

She gave me a sideways glance, “Moving. I think I’m a wanna-be actress. I’ve tidied my life up around here, my bags are literally by the door, I sold my car, found a good home for my cat, and so I’m out of here. Long overdue.”

I laughed, “No boyfriend?” She positively had the looks to command a stable full of guys in their thirties or forties at her disposal.

She shook her head. “Bad experience. Gave that up a couple of months ago, at least for a while. That’s one of the reasons I’m changing things around.” She caught a glimpse of my left hand, devoid of any ring. She asked, “What about you? Married?”

“Nope. My wife died about three years ago.” She nodded in empathy with my loss, and dropped that line of questioning.

We paced along silent for a while. She said, “You’re not from Indy. What brought you here?”

I gathered she hadn’t recognized me, so I hedged a little. “I came for the concert at the arena last night - country music.”

“I wish I’d gone, but I had all the last-minute stuff to do. Was it good?”

Without a trace of modesty, I said, “One of the best.”

“Did they sing Texas Dawn? It’s one of my all-time favorite songs.”

“Ten minutes or so in the encore. Cindy Wonder joined them, too, plus their backup singers, and even the band leader.”

“Oh, I bet that was so cool. I wish they’d put out a live concert album of something like that. I’d listen to it all the time.”

I bit my tongue to avoid saying anything that would further bias my new friend and fan. The more we talked; the clearer it became that she had no idea about my celebrity status.

“Hey,” she said, “What flight are you on - you going on the United flight when I am? Maybe we could sit together or catch a drink or dinner at LAX.” I didn’t think her comment a come on, just a friendly gesture to a fellow runner. By this time, plus some other chatter, we’d covered about four miles together.

I didn’t know how to handle that. I said, “I sort of have other arrangements, though we’ll probably get in before dinner.” That statement probably confused her, because none of the commercial flights leaving from Indianapolis got in until after the normal dinner hour. I could see her mulling that fact around for a moment.

Eventually, she said, “You can go on if you want. There’s a pretty golf course green up ahead, and I often stop there for a morning meditation - to be with nature.”

I gasped, “You mind if I join you. I won’t bother you, but I’d planned some quiet time in a nice place, too.”

We rounded a bend, and on the right side of the road sat the tee and putting green for a couple of the holes at what must be a premiere golf course. PJ hopped a low fence, and we ran up to the tee. The view down the fairway was spectacular as the morning sun’s rays slanted across the scene.

She said, “The ground is wet, so today I’ll sit on that bench.” She pointed to a low wooden bench apparently placed for the convenience of golfers waiting to tee off on the next hole.

I looked around to see where I could sit without getting a wet ass from the cold morning dew.

PJ said, “You can sit with me. We can even face different directions if that bothers you.”

She plopped down on one end of the bench, and I sat on the other. We both faced into the rising sun. Within thirty second, I slipped into what for me passes as the Lotus position and went into my meditative zone with my eyes hazily focused on where the sun glinted off the dew in a prism of colors.

As usual, I lost track of time. I de-tranced to find PJ studying me. “Dude, you really go under when you do that. You did that perfectly, and for eighteen minutes.”

I smiled. “I’ve been doing it for a while.”

She then got close to the truth with her next comment; “You know you sort of look like him - the singer you saw last night.”

I shrugged. We started running again, slowly building up from a gentle trot to our seven-thirty pace.

She asked, “You know anybody famous in LA? Someone that an aspiring actress would like to meet?”

“Yep.”

“Anybody you’d give me an introduction to?”

“Yep.”

“Really. I mean you barely know me; you don’t even know what talent I have.”

“But I might by the time we get to LA,” I replied.

“What do you mean by that?”

I smiled at the mischief I was about to drop on the pretty runner. “Well, if you want, you can join some of us on a private jet. We’re going nonstop to LAX. It’ll save you a couple of hours during the stop over plus the fare.”

PJ coasted to stop. My momentum took me about forty feet past her. I stopped and looked back.

She said, “Are you shittin’ me? I mean, I’m a pretty gullible girl from the mid-west, and I barely know you. Tell me you’re just joshing about a private jet going my way.”

I said, “I’m not fooling about the jet. It’s real. We were planning a takeoff about noon, and yes, you do know me. You told me a few minutes ago that I look like him, you like my music - the music I often record with Crystal Lee. She’ll be on the plane, too.”

PJ walked up to me with a perplexed look; “Just who are you?”

“Jim Mellon.”

* * * * *

I don’t think the grin came off PJ’s face the entire trip to L.A. After she realized who I was and that I was serious, we arranged for our limo to pick her up and bring her and her luggage to the Marriott. She came up to our suite, and by then we were all nearly ready to leave. I made introductions to Crystal, Cindy, Ellen, Claire, Terry, and the rest of the entourage traveling on the jet.

PJ jumped in place a little and said, “I’m afraid I’m going to wake up from this dream. Oh, this is sooooo cooooool.”

After takeoff, Crystal, Terry, and I sat in a comfortable circle in some of the plane’s seats, talking to PJ about her career and experience. She’d portrayed herself as a ‘wanna-be,’ yet she did have some significant acting experience in high school, college, community theater, and summer stock around the Midwest. Further, she could sing and sing well, a requirement for some of the musicals she’d starred in. She played us two songs she’d sung on her iPod that proved to me that she had outstanding singing talent. Further, she’d written the music and lyrics to the two songs, and I thought they were good - really good.

PJ had a crucial ingredient that would put her ahead of many of the ‘wanna-be’s’ - enthusiasm. She bubbled about everything the same way many other women in my life did: Crystal, Claire, Ellen, Nadia, Cindy, to name a few.

Terry looked interested in the young woman, and I could see him turning over in his head the possibility of becoming her agent and places he could ‘sell’ her talent.

I commented that we knew Jill Danes, and thought she might be a useful source of leads and introductions for her. She swooned over the idea of meeting Jill. And then we mentioned, Barry Peters, Chase Henderson, and few other of our Hollywood friends, and by then we’d finished the snow job. Crystal told us to back off, and stop teasing our new friend by name-dropping.

At altitude and with favorable winds, the jet made LAX in only four-and-a-quarter hours. Flying with the clock, we also picked up some time, so it was only three-thirty when we landed.

As we stood outside the plane watching our luggage being put into our limousine, Crystal asked PJ, “Where are you staying?”

PJ shrugged with a smile. “I have no idea. I’m going to find a cheap motel for a night, and tomorrow make it a point to find a place to rent, hopefully, one that doesn’t require a large security deposit up front.”

Crystal looked at me. I knew what she was thinking, and so I subtly nodded favorably with her idea. I could tell Crystal liked the woman and already saw herself as her mentor.

Crystal said authoritatively to PJ, “No, you’re not sleeping in some fleabag motel. You’re going to come home with us and stay over at our suite. We have lots of room, and you can camp out there until you figure out what you want to do. So there!” She gestured to our driver that PJ’s bags should also go into the limo.

PJ started to protest; however, I held my hand up to stop her talking. She gave me one of her megawatt smiles again, bowed, and thanked us for the invitation. She confessed the sad state of her finances; “I have only four-hundred dollars to my name. I’m going to have to get a job pretty quick, too. I’ve never taken a risk like this before in my life. I feel as though I just jumped off a cliff, I’m falling, and I don’t know what’s at the bottom of the chasm or even how deep it is. I just can’t go back to Indiana with my tail between my legs.” She got serious and we saw the depth of her commitment.

Terry said, “Stick with this crew and you’ll always land in feathers, cash, and roses. I bet I can find you a job by noon tomorrow - even something in the entertainment industry that plays to your strengths.” I could still see the wheels turning in Terry’s head about PJ’s skills.

An hour later, we stood in the living room of our suite at the Oceana Beach Hotel in Santa Monica. PJ gawked at the opulence of the hotel. “All this, AND you have a view of the beach AND the Pacific Ocean. I’ve never even seen an ocean before.” PJ practically had tears of joy running down her cheeks as she stood at the door to the room’s balcony looking out at the Pacific.

Terry sidled up to me at one point and whispered; “Where’s she going to sleep? Sofa?”

I shrugged.

It didn’t take long for the same question to pass through PJ’s mind either.

She looked around the three-room suite: a living room, and two bedrooms with adjoining baths that were each larger than the entire apartment I’d lived in with Karen. Two king-size beds sat in one bedroom; and one king sat in the other. The arrangement worked for the six of us that stayed there because we were cross-intimate with each other.

PJ asked, “Who’s living here now - I mean the arrangements?”

I detailed, “Crystal, her sister Ellen, Claire - our friend, Terry, Dan - our publicist, and me, although I think Cindy’s going to sleep over frequently, too, now that she’s out here in LA with us.” Cindy nodded agreement.

PJ sort of sputtered, “It’s a little cozy, isn’t it? I can sleep on the sofa.”

Before I could warn off Terry, he blurted out, “Oh, we switch around sometimes - actually quite often.”

PJ’s mouth quivered before dropping open. All that came out was a whispered, “Oh.”

People started to go about their business in the suite, and I thought I’d better have a short conversation with PJ about what Terry meant about our sleeping arrangements.

PJ accepted my invitation for a glass of wine. I poured one for her, and suggested we go out onto the small balcony overlooking the Pacific. I gestured for her to sit.

“PJ, we are a unique and loving group of people. We have very open relationships with each other. Do you know what polyamory is? Well, we’re it.”

She slowly said, “Poly means many, and amory has something to do with love, so the word means something like loving many. That must mean you love or make love with all the men and women in the group. I get it.”

“I like the guys, but we are not gay or bisexual. The women are another story; I love each of them dearly and they love each other in many ways - all ways. We have open, nonexclusive relationships, although Crystal and I are primary with each other.”

PJ counted, “So, only those four women - Crystal, Ellen, Claire, and Cindy?”

I felt that I had to be honest with her, “Well, no. There are some others I care deeply about as well.”

“You’re quite a Lothario.”

I defensively retorted, “I hope not. A Lothario is a man who behaves selfishly and irresponsibly in his sexual relationships with women. I feel that I do neither, and so don’t deserve the term.”

PJ smiled wantonly, “But you do make love with those women? Oh, my God, there are four of them!”

“Yes, and many others.”

“Others? Wow! Who?” The two words came as a random challenge; I wasn’t sure whether she was amazed, peeved, or what.

I thought for a minute whether to allow this line of questioning, but then slowly and thoughtfully responded, “Well, there’s Jill Danes, Tina, Nadia, Brite, Tanya, Caroline, Margo, Summer - how could I forget, she’s the mother of my children, and Edie, to name a few.”

PJ nearly choked on her wine, ”A FEW! My God, you’re a man slut.” She laughed, but also sounded worried.

I said, “Now, THAT is a term that others have used to describe my behavior. The fact is that I love women - almost all women. For whatever reason, I find the opposite sex fascinating in every dimension of mind, body, and soul. I love the way the fairer sex thinks and reasons; I love the way they look, the care they exhibit about their appearance, and every curve and crevice of their bodies; and I love their caring for others and their deeper spirituality. Further, I don’t think I’m alone in the world.”

PJ sat back in her chair, “Do you love me?”

“Yes; of course. Why wouldn’t I?” As I spoke, I noted that Crystal had come to the door to the balcony, and stood listening in on our conversation.

PJ thought for a moment and said cautiously, “So, you would bed me if you wanted?”

“No. I wouldn’t bed you ‘if I wanted’, as you put it, only if we ‘mutually’ wanted to share something together - to share a loving and hopefully beautiful sexual experience … to share experiences on multiple levels, because, at least for me, and I hope my partners, making love is not just about the sex. It’s about a union and congruence of mind, body, and spirit between two like-minded souls.”

PJ said, “That sounds too theoretical for me. No man can create that kind of feeling in a woman, and Lord knows I’ve tried for years.”

I said, “Talk to my partners. Ask them whether it’s theoretical. I’d like to know, too.”

PJ turned to Crystal. “Well, what’s he like?”

Crystal said in a matter-of-fact tone, “He’s being modest. When Jim makes love to you, your entire ‘Being’ tingles on every emotional and spiritual level ever known to mankind or that you’ve ever dreamed about. He has a way of melding with his partners in a unique way that inspires every positive emotion you can think of. Sure, it’s lusty and physical in the best way possible, but then it transcends the physical in some way. Being with Jim is a union of your soul with his even when you both started as just two horny humans - it moves beyond that before your first orgasm, and he does deliver the orgasms - lots of them.”

PJ studied Crystal to see whether she was serious. She decided she was, but said in doubting tone, “I’m going to talk to the others.” She got up and went inside to the living room to see whether Cindy, Ellen, and Claire would give her more information about me. I wondered about her curiosity and tenacity about the subject.

PJ came back twenty minutes later and rejoined Crystal and me. Crystal was sitting next to me in a small porch chair; we were talking about our upcoming day or two of skiing in Colorado - that was the destination she wanted.

PJ looked at me for about sixty seconds, apparently weighing or evaluating something in her mind. Eventually, she walked over to my chair, bent at the waist, put both of her hands on the arms of my chair, and kissed me.

Chapter 44 - PJ Fits In

I felt sure that I had received rave reviews from Cindy, Ellen, and Claire. PJ had gone into the living room of our suite to talk to them about me. Crystal had painted me in such glowing terms, I wondered whether I could live up to them.

PJ’s kiss kind of took me by surprise. I thought she’d have more questions and more to say about the male animals. She’d not had great experiences with them so far in her young life.

The kiss told me that she wanted a sample of the wares, so I put as much of myself into the physical kiss as I could. When it became substantial and clear it would last more than a few seconds, I extended my tongue slightly and ran it along PJ’s lips. After two circuits of her lips, I gently pushed into her mouth where she sucked on me. Next, I knew, PJ’s tongue came into my mouth where I could suck on it and orally play. It was then that what we were doing went beyond the physical into some other realm, at least for me; I positively felt a new and deep affinity for PJ, and I knew intuitively that she felt the same emotions. I had no doubt.

We parted slightly, but our tongues kept touching between us in the open air for a couple of more seconds. Another passionate kiss started, and PJ fell into my lap. We broke our kiss. She shook her head in disbelief; disbelief at her own actions and disbelief at the love, lust, and passion that erupted between the two of us in those few kisses.

Suddenly, PJ looked worried; she turned to Crystal, “Ellen, Cindy, and Claire said you wouldn’t mind. I hope that’s true.”

Crystal reached over and stroked PJ’s face in a tender way, “It’s true. We are a loving, forgiving, and grateful group. Enjoy each other as much as you like, but don’t be surprised if you end up with someone else joining you. We share too.”

PJ’s eyebrows rose. She slowly said, “Oh, I see - I think.”

PJ turned to me, “Jim, I have never heard a man described the way your lovers talk about you - even in fiction.” She nodded at Crystal, “Each of you has your own vocabulary to describe your relationship and experiences with Jim, but they all boil down to the words like ‘soulful and romantic,’ ‘spiritual,’ ‘wonderful,’ ‘rare,’ ‘supportive and empathetic,’ ‘and ‘transformational.’ The guy I broke up with a few weeks ago I would describe as a horny, depraved, alcoholic, beer gut, male chauvinist pig. What a difference, huh?”

We all laughed, although I was feeling some degree of embarrassment.

PJ leaned into my chest and let me cradle her lithe body against mine. I made no overt attempt to do anything further with her. I thought how I’d only known her about twelve hours, yet I could feel the inner turmoil that she must be going through - remaining virtuous according to society’s mores, or engaging me on some further physical or sexual level beyond the kisses we’d just shared.

The conversation got cut short when Terry came to the balcony door. “Hey guys, we’re hungry and thirsty. We’re going downstairs to the restaurant and bar; want to join us?” He didn’t blink an eye that PJ was in my lap, and I’m sure PJ noticed that acceptance.

Crystal stood, and so did PJ. I followed suit, and our parade of people walked down the hallway to the elevator.

* * * * *

After a long cocktail hour and dinner, the nine of us went back to our luxury suite. Dan and Claire stopped behind everyone in the foyer, and made out for a little, their kisses and hugs almost signaling the others that playtime was at hand. We could hear some soft seductive invitations being extended and accepted between the pair. Without saying goodnights, the pair went into the larger bedroom with the two king-size beds in it.

Terry, Cindy, and Ellen followed behind the pair. I think the five wanted to leave me with Crystal and PJ to see where the evening would develop.

PJ looked a little worried, as she sat on the sofa. Crunch time was at hand for her. Crystal sat next to her, and the two whispered back and forth while I poured a jigger of Grand Marnier. I figured I’d apply my best and most comforting kisses to her. Crystal could see what I had in mind.

I moved beside PJ on the sofa, and turned her to me with one hand. I took a sip of the rich liqueur, and leaned in for a kiss. PJ responded automatically, tilting her head so our lips came together comfortably. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, an act we'd done a few hours earlier at her instigation.

When fully inserted, I jetted some of the liqueur from my mouth into PJ’s. I could feel her melt into my arms as the liquid reached the corners of her mouth and surged into her soul.

We pulled apart, and she looked at me with a further invitation. I repeated the process with her, this time eliciting a long moan from her curvy body.

The next time, I shared the liqueur with Crystal as we both leaned in front of PJ’s body. PJ got a close-up of the two of us French kissing and sharing. I watched as one of Crystal’s hands pulled PJ’s blouse from her waist and stroked across her midriff in a sexy way, her thumb stroking the underside of PJ’s breasts through her frilly bra. The act was obvious and undeniably sexual.

I repeated the kissing process with PJ, accepting her longing look for another liquid kiss. PJ ignored that her blouse had been pulled from her belt, and that another female stroked her midsection. This time, my hand joined Crystal’s in gently fawning over the pretty woman.

Crystal took the shot glass from me and sipped some of the liqueur. The next time, it was Crystal who leaned into PJ and kissed her lips, tenderly French kissing as her hand stroked PJ’s body, and of course, she pushed the liquid fire into PJ’s mouth just before their tongues danced together in the open air. Both women moaned in the pleasure and satisfaction of the moment.

After some more whispering between the pair, both women rose and walked to the smaller bedroom. I followed along.

Crystal and I sandwiched PJ between us, slowly removing each other’s clothing. PJ whispered as though she was just reciting some facts that everyone needed to know before the evening was complete, “I’ve never been in a threesome - or with another woman … but … well … I’m willing to try anything … I guess. You two have made it so easy … so comfortable for me. I know … I think … that I’m going to remember … well, all of this, … the rest of my life. I know I’ll love it.” She seemed to still be worried about what might happen.

Crystal leaned in and kissed away her concern as I ran my tongue around PJ’s ear. PJ got the message to not worry about anything from here on out.

The women’s nude bodies moved up the bed so their heads could be on the pillows. I got welcoming smiles from both of them. They held hands for a moment. I knelt at the foot of the bed, and lay down on my stomach, after gently nudging PJ’s legs apart. I ran my tongue from her knees, up her muscular thighs, to just where her labial lips began. I repeated the action on her other leg, and then back and forth.

Each time I neared PJ’s pussy, she began to push her body at me, trying to get my tongue in contact with her sex. I resisted, but not for long.

PJ’s aroma was intoxicating. Her scent was sexual, pleasing to me, and clearly a musky almost floral scent inviting further action. I took a deep breath of her pleasure.

After sating myself on PJ’s aroma, I used my tongue to lap from perineum to mons, pushing deep into her wet slit. I could feel my tongue slip into her vagina briefly, and then pass by the nub of her clit. I remembered the word ‘umani,’ a Japanese word meaning good taste or good flavor. This was PJ. Her taste matched the intoxicating appeal of her scent, and I could have feasted for hours on her flavor.

I focused on PJ’s pussy, sucking and lapping at her sex concentrating on her pleasure and not my own, although I felt in heaven. As I worked in her nether region, I glanced up to see Crystal alternately sucking full force on PJ’s breasts, bringing the nipples to a rigid state capable of cutting steel. PJ moaned and ground her hips into me as she turned her upper body to Crystal. She clearly gave herself over to us.

I reached beside me with one arm going under one of PJ’s legs so I could stroke and fondle Crystal’s wet pussy. Crystal didn’t break lock, but did hesitate a moment as two of my digits penetrated her quim.

PJ’s orgasm came after only five minutes of our coordinated assault. She tried to remain in control, but finally lost it. I felt her legs and body stiffen. One hand pushed my face hard into her soggy cunt, as my tongue danced in its work of pleasuring her body. Crystal and I both heard her nearly silent expletive, “Ooooooh, fuuuccckkkk,” before her body arched, trembled, and went limp in Crystal’s arms.

I moved up to kiss PJ. Crystal spooned behind her. We tightly sandwiched her between the two of us.

PJ finally said in a soft voice, “Oh, God, I don’t ever want to leave this time and space. I have never felt so loved, so sexual, so horny, and so happy in my life.” We each got a wan smile.

I kissed her again, running my tongue softly around her lips between kisses.

PJ giggled, “I can taste myself on your lips. I’ve never really known what I tasted like. It’s not bad. Ex-boyfriend didn’t believe in cunnilingus.”

I smiled and allowed her tongue to seek out more of her emissions inside my mouth. As we kissed, I became aware of Crystal slithering down PJ’s body until her mouth and tongue were delivering pleasure to PJ’s cunt. Crystal could claim the next orgasm our new friend had.

We unwound from each other. I stood and pulled Crystal’s body to the edge of the bed as she laughed at my antics. When I had her positioned, I went down on her cunt, with my tongue duplicating the pleasure I’d delivered to PJ.

I didn’t make Crystal cum from cunnilingus. Instead, when her laughter turned to moans of pleasure, I repositioned, spread the lips of her beautiful vagina wide, and slowly inserted myself into her body in one long smooth stroke. When I’d bottomed out, the two of us kissed madly and passionately, with words of love shared between the two of us.

PJ sat upright beside us on the bed with eyes wide watching our lovemaking. When I stood before Crystal, pumping into her body with my shaft, I motioned for PJ to come closer so I could kiss her. PJ knee-walked across the bed into my open arms, her mouth trying to envelope my entire being into hers as we kissed.

PJ whispered to the two of us, “This is positively the hottest experience of my life. I thought I’d done so much sexually, but you’ve opened doors I never even knew existed except in porn movies. Every fiber in my body is alive. Oh, I love you guys so much.”

Crystal pulled PJ down so she could kiss her as I continued fucking her. She said to PJ, “Suck my breasts, and I’ll cum.” PJ pounced onto Crystal’s proud, round, full breasts, sucking each nipple until each nub stood high and erect.

Crystal loves vaginal orgasms, particularly if there is stimulation to her breasts. I also think her clitoris or G-spot must be in just the right place to rub against my cock as we fuck. I could feel her getting near, partly by how her body writhed beneath mine and against PJ’s oral skills. Unlike some women who lie back and let a man do all the work, Crystal is an active participant. Even on her back, she oscillates her body back and forth doing half the stroking of cock in cunt.

Crystal peaked, is a long low wail. She grabbed PJ, pulled her head to hers, and ground their mouths together in one of the must passionate Sapphic kisses I’d ever seen. I knew her moves and what pleased her, so as the climax passed, I slowly stopped allowing her to savor the last strokes of our session. I could feel the pulsing of her vagina around my still rigid shaft.

I leaned down and kissed Crystal, occasionally turning my head to kiss PJ who had her lips nearby.

Crystal pushed me and whispered, “Do PJ. Make love to her.”

I replied, “I don’t know whether she wants that - it crosses a boundary we haven’t talked about.”

Quick as a flash, PJ spoke with great emphasis; “PJ wants you to make love to her very much - very, very much.” As she talked, she fell back onto the bed and spread her legs again, exposing her beautiful cunt to me. I reached beside me and stroked her slit with one hand.

PJ locked eyes with me; “Please,” she whispered as she held her arms up to embrace me.

I slowly extracted myself from Crystal’s vagina, but before I could properly relocate, PJ spun around and inhaled my cock. Her eyes closed, and her tongue went hyper-active, searching out every trace of Crystal’s juices on my shaft.

PJ looked up eventually; “Oh, Crystal, you taste so good. I want to eat you later.” She turned to me, “Now, Jim, come love me. Show me why you’re special.”

After penetration, PJ proved a more active participant than Crystal. Our bodies ground together. When she mounted me, she twisted, ground, rotated, and pumped her body trying to maximize the stimulation we both felt from our sex act. Crystal lay beside me idly stroking her clit and smiling at how energetic we were.

At one point I’d rolled PJ onto her back. I nodded to Crystal, and a moment later she lowered her pussy onto PJ’s face. Even before contact was made, I could see PJ’s tongue extended two or three inches from her body as she tried to get her first direct taste of her new friend. When contact finally occurred, both Crystal and PJ moaned in pleasure.

Crystal put her hands on my shoulders for balance. Her eyes stared into mine. She nodded and mouthed, “Oh, this girl is good, especially considering she told us she’d never been with a woman before. She can do me anytime.” The two of us kissed as PJ’s tongue and lips worked their magic in Crystal’s nether region.

As PJ worked on Crystal’s pussy, I kept up a steady rhythm of my oscillations into and out of her pussy. PJ exuded enough lubrication to flood our union with her rich, thick juices. Her sweet aroma filled the room. PJ’s lower body met my every stroke with a move of her own, some voluntary and some reflexive.

Crystal had a light orgasm. I could tell because her eyes closed, and her hands tightened into each shoulder as her first spasm of pleasure hit. She opened her eyes in a squint, gave me a sheepish grin, and then rolled off to the side. I instantly leaned down to PJ’s face and lapped at some of the Crystal’s residual juices from PJ’s face. I also increased the passionate kisses I shared with PJ. Now, that PJ could focus on her own body, she experienced an orgasm in only another minute, and another a couple of minutes later aided maybe by Crystal sucking on one of PJ’s breasts.

I sped up. We’d been at it for over twenty minutes, and I didn’t want PJ to get sore despite the copious amount of lubrication she’d produced.

I locked eyes with PJ; “I’m near. When you cum again, I’m going to cum with you.”

PJ nodded and gasped out, “I’m seconds away. Do it. Please do it. Deep inside me. I won’t get pregnant, but I want everything you offer.”

I relaxed my Kegel muscles, and used my inner voice to tell myself, ‘Cum.’ Only a few seconds later, I could feel the bliss of an orgasm start from deep within my body. At this point, I couldn’t have stopped my cum if I’d changed my mind. The liquids inside me surged through my interior plumbing, leaving a trail of joy and pleasure behind. I jammed myself into PJ a few last times, and then the surges of my juices lunged into her body.

PJ came, up-tilting and driving her hips into mine as I drove hard and deep into her. We arched in that position for many seconds as my cum filled her body cavity to the brim. We collapsed simultaneously, PJ bearing my full weight for a few seconds until I could remedy the situation by rolling us to one side while still connected at our sexual union.

I smothered PJ with kisses, covered every square millimeter of the skin I could reach with my lips. Over her shoulder, I saw Crystal start to do the same along PJ’s back and shoulders, lightly massaging PJ’s flushed skin.

PJ looked at me with awe and wonder in her eyes; eventually, silent tears started to flow from her eyes. She reached up with one hand and tenderly touched my face. “I didn’t know it could be like this,” she said in a low and halting voice. “I didn’t know what love was - what true sexual union was. I can’t believe these past moments - with both of you. I’ll never forget today - and to think I resolved a few hours ago to not join with you. I just … I didn’t know.” She reached behind her and pulled one of Crystal’s arms around her, placing her hand on one flushed breast.

Dan and Claire came into our bedroom; both beautifully nude and jubilant in the sexual union they had shared. Dan spooned behind Crystal, reaching over her to stroke PJ’s nakedness. PJ didn’t seem to mind in the least. Claire did the same from behind me, although one hand traced down my body to where I remained inside PJ. She lightly stroked PJ’s clitoris, eliciting a further moan of pleasure. I could feel PJ’s vagina clench and unclench in light spasms around my tumescent cock with each stroke Claire made of her clit.

Terry and Ellen floated into the room, also naked. Ellen lay across the top of the bed with Terry spooning behind her, but not before she lifted PJ’s head and put it to rest on her smooth flat abdomen. She stroked PJ’s long hair, splaying it out across her upper body in a sensuous manner. I could see the wetness of Ellen’s pussy lips.

PJ looked unusually content given the tremendous discontinuity she’d just experienced in her life and in her sexual conduct and outlook.

PJ hugged me. She whispered in my ear, “Am I silly to think that I suddenly love all of you in ways I never imagined.”

I kissed her wet cheeks, and then her mouth. I whispered back to her, “No, not at all.”

* * * * *

Monday morning started early. I pulled PJ’s naked form from the jumble of bodies on our bed, we dressed and went for a run down the beach, staying on the hard packed sand most of the way. I showed her the small promontory where I paused to meditate with rising sun at our backs and the Pacific Ocean aglow with a new day; we spent twenty minutes there in silence.

Back at the hotel, we showered and dressed without the least bit of modesty. Except for PJ, we’d seen each other naked in many circumstances, and PJ just accepted and blended in with us. In twos and threes, we drifted to the hotel’s breakfast room, and then our crew scattered to our various jobs and activities.

Terry and Ellen took PJ under their arm. Cindy went with them. Terry planned a quick stop at a friend’s who ran a photo studio for some portfolio shots of PJ, and then wanted Ellen and Cindy take her to one of Sony’s studios and do a demo tape. Terry also thought if he had enough time that he’d introduce PJ to some friends that might be looking for help.

Crystal, Claire, and I headed to the movie set for Downslope for some morning rehearsals before afternoon shooting. We agreed we’d all meet back at the hotel around seven or eight that evening for dinner.

The comic relief of the day came from Ellen who about two o’clock sexted me a picture she’d taken at arm’s length of PJ, Cindy, and her standing with their shirts and bras pulled up and six beautiful full breasts bared. In the background, I could see the interior of one of Sony’s recording studios. Somehow, I doubted anyone else was in the room; however, I’d ask them later. The only words with the pictures said, “Good news to share later.”

I passed the phone to Claire and Crystal, and we all got a laugh from the bawdy humor. Because we were with others, we resisted the urge to reply in kind.

The afternoon dragged on a bit. We didn’t seem to get the scenes ‘right’ in the opinion of our august director the first, second, third, or fourth time. One scene we did ten times before we created an acceptable version. We knocked off at six-thirty, and the three of us headed back to the hotel.

As we walked into our suite, PJ bounded up off the sofa and came running into my arms. We twirled around. She looked ecstatic; I hadn’t seen such a big smile.

Tears of joy came to her eyes. She said, “I got a job.” She looked over her shoulder at Cindy and Terry who sat with Cheshire grins on their faces looked at the four of us. “They all got me a job. They’re wonderful.”

“Well, tell me - tell us. What happened?”

PJ talked in rapid staccato, faster than a typewriter sounds; “Terry and Cindy took me for some PR photographs, and I now have a portfolio, but maybe I won’t need it. Next, we went to Sony and I sang a few songs for a demo disk in a little recording studio. They even played things back and made helpful suggestions - Terry and Cindy, I mean. And then, Terry and Cindy went off alone, and I practiced some songs they gave me. When they came back, I sang those … and, well, Cindy really likes my voice … and so, she picked me as a backup singer for her band, The Hobo Palace. I’m going to be singing and touring with you guys, and … oh, God, this is so wonderful. All this, plus they told me that if a better opportunity comes along, they will support me in going after it. I can’t believe all this. I can’t believe how my life just went from shit to roses.” At that, she broke into sobs trying to smile at Crystal, Ellen, Claire, and me through her tears of joy.

I pulled her to my chest and wrapped by long arms around her. In a few moments, she quieted down. I talked gently to her, “PJ, you’ve been under much stress - shutting down everything you knew that was comfortable and that barely fit, giving all that up to take a huge risk in coming out here with nothing to do, and no place to even live. I suspect that last night threw you into a bit of a tizz too since what we did with you was so distant from how you thought the world of relationships and sex ran. You’ve taken some huge steps in a very short time. Now, take a deep breath and let us all support you in your transition.”

I kissed PJ’s forehead. Crystal, Ellen, and Claire had moved to also hold PJ in their arms. They kissed her as well. After PJ stopped crying and had a huge shiver run through her body, I picked her up and carried her into our bedroom.

I didn’t set PJ down. I just lay back on the bed against the headboard still holding her, and allowing her to burrow her face into my neck. We stayed like that in the room as the last vestiges of light in the outside world faded into dusk. The door to the living room remained open, and we could hear the others comparing notes about their day and occasionally laughing. We were a happy group.

Crystal eventually came in and looked at the tableau PJ and I formed. She said quietly, “Do you want me to bring some food back for you?” By just the tone of her voice, I could tell she had great empathy for PJ’s emotions and the transformations she was experiencing.

PJ rotated her shoulders back and forth a little. She said, “If I don’t leave now, I’ll never leave Jim’s arms. I feel so protected and sheltered. I feel it from all of you. I’ll get up and go to dinner with you. I can’t believe …” She snuffled. “This morning, instead of meditating when Jim and I stopped during our run, I sat and thanked the Universe over and over again for the blessings each of you have bestowed upon me in the past day. I don’t know how to express my thanks … I am so touched by everything each of you have done for me - to me - with me. I can tell you all care about me … and you just met me yesterday.”

She stood up, and Crystal gave PJ a big hug, kissing her on each cheek. The two walked into the living room with their arms around each other. I followed along admiring the sleek back ends of my two lovers.

PJ pepped up over cocktails and dinner, and Crystal, Ellen, Claire, and I were able to coax more details about her day from her. Cindy sat next to PJ, and often chimed in with accolades about the quality of PJ’s voice and music, her natural ability, and how the decision to add her to the group was a no-brainer.

Cindy told us something PJ didn’t even know. When Terry and she had left the recording studio, they had The Hobo Palace band rehearsing four new songs in another studio. They played some of PJ’s singing and unanimously voted her into the group just based on the timbre of her voice. PJ looked astounded.

Dan who sat on the other side of Cindy, told PJ that he already had plans for a huge press release announcing her addition to the band and touting her as “the newest and sexiest thing to hit the music industry.” After a short pause, he wisely hedged his bets and awkwardly added, ‘since Crystal’ at the awkward end of his statement. We all laughed as he tried to cover his ass.

In the next couple of days, as each moment went by, PJ became more open and more loving with each person in our circle. If I’d had to screen a million people to find someone that would fit in, I’m not sure I would have found a ‘PJ,’ but now she was with us.

The next night, over dinner, PJ said, “Oh dear, now that I have a job, I’ve got to find a place to live.”

Claire said with a pleading tone, “Don’t you like living with us? We don’t want you to leave. We’re here for a good four or five months because of our movie, and we want you with us. Some of your band is going to stay around here, too. After that, we’ll all be going back to Nashville, even The Hobo Palace.”

PJ looked astounded again, “You mean live here, with all of you, in the hotel, for five months?”

We all nodded enthusiastically.

PJ sputtered for a moment; her eyes teared up again.

I stepped in. “PJ, we’re here for you. We like you. We love you. We might take trips here and there - concerts for example, but this will be our base for a while. I can imagine you want your own place, but there’s no need to rush out and take the first thing that you find, nor the cheapest. Wait until you have an income stream, save up some money living with us, and maybe instead of renting you can buy a condo or house; but please stay with us.”

Another tear rolled down PJ’s cheek; she lower bit her lower lip and nodded agreement.

Chapter 45 - Rekindling an Old Friendship. Vacation

CLAIRE

Claire told us that she had retyped the paragraphs over a hundred times in her mind, and sitting at her computer’s keyboard, she’d physically retyped the short letter over two-dozen times in the past hour. Finally, she deemed it acceptable to send. She read it to us.

Beth - I have missed you, and Joe so much my heart has often ached. I have been in a personal transformation, leaving the adult film industry and the escort service, and becoming more “socially acceptable” To complete my metamorphosis, I also changed my name from Cheryl (as you knew me) to Claire and had some plastic surgery so that my past didn’t haunt me.

I live an upscale life now as an aide and companion to Jim Mellon and Crystal Lee - the country music singers. I even have a bit part in a movie they are making that will come out in about nine months (we just started filming); the movie is called ‘Downslope’.

You asked me to keep in touch. I have followed Joe’s business dealings in the news, and not held up my end of your request to communicate since my transition started - shortly after I last saw you. This email is to reestablish contact if you are still interested in what I think became a beautiful friendship between us. I am not trying to impose on you or ask anything of you or Joe. I know a lot changes in two years.

Love

Cheryl Zaret

Now Claire Whitman (my new name - please forget Cheryl ever existed)

She hit the send key with an air of finality to the act. She told us that she wasn’t even sure the email address she had for Beth still existed. A knot formed immediately in her stomach, and she obviously ached in longing for her friend from another era in her life, and from a hope either Beth or Joe wouldn’t reject her. “I guess this is what unrequited love feels like,” she said, but then doubled over in psychic pain as tears came to her eyes again.

We’d all urged her to reestablish contact with people she’d fallen in love with in her past. She hadn’t been reluctant except her fear that they would see her as a gold digger.

Claire’s own parents had rejected her once they realized the life she’d adopted - a call girl or escort, and a porn star. The day had been traumatic and not so long ago - six years. They’d been so strict with her growing up, almost forbidding her to date. She’d been screwed down so tightly that the lid blew off when she left home to attend college. After a short time at a university and living on her own as an oversexed party girl, she got into the porn business and through that became a high-end call girl - an escort, a better name, and less offensive than whore.

She never told her parents how she earned her money to help put herself through school. She’d been working as a waitress, and alluded to getting an even better job at a top restaurant where the tips could be extraordinary. In fact, the tips she got as an escort often turned out to be over a thousand dollars. She took little solace knowing that she’d done well in that business.

She never knew how her parents discovered what she was doing. One day they knocked on her door, she opened it, got called names, disowned, warned to never make contact again, and had every remnant of her life with her parents dropped in plastic trash bags on her doorstep. For all intensive purposes, she was dead to her parents and they were dead to her.

The ultimate rejection had been hard to take. She’d cried for a while, but then when she tried to remember the good times with her parents she couldn’t. There were so few she could count them on her fingers; they included a particular birthday, two Christmases, a day trip to Disneyland. The lasting image of them was one of rules and strict discipline.

Had there been more, but she blocked them out? She shook her head. No, her parents were not really parents. Everything had a rule. If you obeyed the rules, you didn’t get a swat or two on your rear end. If you broke a ‘major’ rule, you had the hide on your ass made raw by the beating. Her plastic surgeon told her he could still see the scars from various beatings with a belt.

Her parents should never have had a child.

She met Beth and Joe through the escort work she was doing. Joe Mansard was a multi-billionaire and business tycoon. He headed a worldwide empire and probably had more power than the Federal government. His wealth exceeded the GNP of all but the top two-dozen countries.

Beth was Joe’s daughter - a beautiful blonde near her own age who had an incestuous relationship with her father, and a loving sapphic relationship with Claire. Beth had been a rare exception in Cheryl’s (Claire’s) escort business: ninety-nine percent of her business had been men until Beth showed up to check out Claire’s ‘acceptability’ for her father. Her father relished seeing Beth and Claire together doing sexual acts to each other - and later in the relationship, making love together.

Like Claire, Beth was a nymphomaniac. Claire thought she had few boundaries as far as sex went and never a problem with quantity, but Beth found those boundaries, blew most of them away in torrid sessions that sometimes went on for an entire weekend with endless orgasms given and received - more than Claire had ever dreamed of.

Joe was a middle-aged stallion, and a man who could easily and simultaneously satisfy two women. A hallmark of the man, besides his flamboyant personality, included his ability to recover in record time after having climaxed. Further, and repeatedly, Joe would have pasted the inside of Claire’s vagina with a copious amount of semen, only to extract himself after his orgasm and instantly repeat the process on Beth. Less than an hour later, he could repeat this feat on the two of them again.

The dealings with Claire - or Cheryl as she had been back then - had started on a business basis, with simple payments going to Andre, her ‘associate’ - read ‘pimp’ under synonyms. Almost as soon as they’d started, Claire would find generous bonuses given to her in some manner. These included an endless stream of high-end clothing, shoes, and jewelry that she and Beth would shop for in the nicest stores in the LA area. Later, Beth presented Claire with a Swiss bank account with what she called some ‘starter cash’ in it - $50,000. Over time, as the frequency of their interactions increased, the amount in that bank account rose to over $500,000. Claire had tried to return the money, and avowed over and over to the couple that she didn’t need it. She told Beth and even Joe that the sums were over the top and embarrassed her, but they would have none of her complaining. After many months, she just started to say ‘Thank you for your generosity’.

The business basic changed, too. As an escort, if she were treated all right, Cheryl could enjoy herself and grew to like some of her regulars, but there were few of them. Beth and Joe were an exception; she fell in love with them - an emotion she hadn’t properly labeled until they had disappeared out of her life for an extended stay in Asia as Joe negotiated and managed in a multi-billion-dollar telecommunications deal that instantly made over a billion dollars in profit for his new subsidiary - probably just because he was the chairman of the new company.

Not long after her last weekend with Beth and Joe, Jill Danes, the movie star, had engaged Cheryl to help her get a part in a movie. Jill fucked the brains out of a Hollywood producer who put her on the road to stardom, while Cheryl fucked the daylights out of his brother. Jill liked Cheryl, and after some long talks helped her leave the adult film and escort business, and become Claire. Jill helped with the name change, got her a shrink to undo the damage her parents had perpetrated on her and raised her self-esteem, dyed her hair a gorgeous red, encouraged her to use plastic surgery to leave Cheryl far behind, and hired her as her assistant and aide. Claire lived with Jill for almost two years before getting her own condo. The pair occasionally enjoyed sex together, but mostly, Jill preferred a good fuck from a male acquaintance. As part of her penance, Claire abstained from sex with men during her make over period and then returned to the field as a normal, healthy woman in her mid-twenties.

Not long after her new independence, Jill got a part in a movie with country singer Jim Mellon. Claire got introduced through Jill, and soon found herself in a swoon over the rising country music and movie star. It wasn’t long at all after that when Jill hosted a dinner party during which she orchestrated some group sex games. Claire let herself go, enjoying the small orgy, and savoring the sexual intercourse with Mellon.

Jim made her heart beat fast. The night of the orgy was all it took for her to fall the rest of the way for him. In a weak and risky moment, she’d even hinted at her ‘love at first sight’ feeling for him. She also had warm feelings for Ellen, Crystal Lee’s sister and Jim’s consort at the party. Less than a week later, because the feelings were mutual and with Jill’s blessing, Claire moved in with Jim and Ellen at their LA hotel, and had become part of their loving circle ever since.

The sex was mind blowing. Seldom did Jim sleep with only one woman. Claire felt honored and grateful that she joined Ellen as one of his usual and frequent bedside partners.

Jim had often referred to her as ‘Mysterious Claire.’ He saw the obvious; that she had a dark past she hadn’t shared with him or the others in the circle. One night, while they were on the road at a concert, the need to talk about her past as porn star Breezy Cummins and as high-class whore Cheryl Zaret overcame her, and she blurted out her whole sordid past amid a shower of tears.

Claire expected rejection, but instead got the heaviest dose of love and affection from everyone in the circle: Jim - especially, Ellen - her best friend, Crystal, Billy - the band leader, Dan - Jim and Crystal’s publicist, and Terry - their agent. To her amazement, everyone took her past in stride, made no big deal of it, and everyone loved her just as they had - maybe a little more now that she’d made herself vulnerable to them. The revelations she’d shared had been so unburdening. And, after that night of truth telling, everyone had been careful to never tell anyone else and to only enjoy the sexy stories they often encouraged her to share - even her relationship with Beth and Joe that she told in a disguised way one night.

Crystal and Ellen had been the ones to push her to reestablish contact. Ellen had said, “If you feel love for them, I bet they felt the same way about you. Make contact. Don’t put it off another day.” Claire worried about rejection or being seen as a gold digger, but she had finally suppressed those thoughts enough to try to reestablish contact.

A thousand thoughts about her past flashed through Claire’s head. She stared, glassy eyes, at the blank computer screen.

PING!

The sound of a new email message arriving in her in-box roused Claire from her reverie. She gawked at the sender: Beth Mansard. Claire’s heart started to flutter and a wave of anxiety swept over her.

Claire closed her eyes and prayed as she opened the email.

‘Cheryl - or Claire, I should say; we have missed you so much. Your old associate Andre said you just vanished one day. We did a little search to no avail. I can’t wait to see you again, and I know Joe feels the same way. MY GOD, WE MISS YOU. WE LOVE YOU. WE REALLY DO LOVE YOU. Please don’t go away again. We’re in Singapore but will be back next week for a week in LA. More later. Love. Beth.’

Claire stared at the message for a long time, the words eventually blurring as the tears came - the tears of happiness. She started to sob. The tears wouldn’t stop, and the soggy tissues piled up on her desk.

PING!

Claire’s next message came from J. Mansard. She struggled to read through her watery eyes.

‘Claire - Beth just shared with me your new life - as much as she knows from your email. I am very happy that you contacted us. Don’t you dare disappear again now that we’ve ‘found’ you. I join her in wanting to see you as soon as we can. Love, Joe.’

Now, the tears really flowed and turned into deep, chest racking sobs. Claire just sat there with her face in her hands, and after a while two masculine arms surrounded her, lifted her up, and carried her small form from her desk to the bed. She felt kisses on her forehead. Two female arms soon started to stroke and smooth her arms to comfort her. Two new arms more brought a warm washcloth and more tissues. The arms and bodies surrounded Claire with love.

Crystal said in a soft, loving voice, “I’m so proud you did it. I know that took a lot of courage to reach back into that period of your life, and see … they still love you. We all love you.”

Ellen said in a near whisper, “You left the emails open on your computer. We read them. I hope that’s all right; we didn’t mean to pry, but we wanted to see what was there that had set you off.”

Claire just nodded her ascent. She blubbered out, “It’s OK. I don’t have secrets from you any more.”

Jim cradled Claire in his lap, her head and mane of reddish hair lying on his broad chest. Eventually, the tears stopped. Jim just sat and held one of the women he loved so much.

* * * * *

Claire watched the Gulfstream G650LR taxi into the general aviation Landmark Aviation terminal at LAX. The Mansard chauffeur had chatted with her for the past half hour since she arrived. He knew the plane, and regaled her with some of the statistics about it, including the point that it was the fastest corporate jet in operation. It cost about $65 million and was state of the art. The ‘LR’ designation, meant that the plane had been outfitted with extra fuel tanks for Long Range operations.

The long sleek pure white jet taxied into a position indicated by two linemen waving red-lighted batons at the jet. Claire noticed the plane’s tail number, JM1 - Joe Mansard One. She smiled; Joe did have an ego as large as the airport, no doubting that. He demanded perfection, and got it. He helped people achieve a greatness they didn’t think they could.

After the engines shut down, the door just behind the cockpit mechanically opened, and hydraulically lowered a stairway into position.

I hadn’t noticed, but the chauffeur had disappeared, only to reappear driving the white limousine near the jet’s stairway.

Claire walked about a hundred feet closer to the jet from the impressive airside entrance to the GA terminal building. She stopped, feeling the steady wind across the airport billowing her dress out behind her.

Beth appeared in the doorway, preoccupied with one of the crew members. Claire imagined her thanking the crew for a flawless journey across the Pacific Ocean. Beth had emailed her with their arrival time and where they’d be.

As Beth started down the ladder, Claire waved frantically. Across the tarmac, Claire could see Beth’s face break into a huge grin. Beth flung her briefcase at the chauffeur and ran across the concrete with arms outstretched until the two women were together and smothering each other in kisses.

“My God, you look so different. Is this really you, Cheryl? I mean Claire.”

Claire laughed, “Yes, it’s me. Sorry, I have changed … I hope you’ll like the new me.”

Beth interrupted, “You looked beautiful before, but now you are absolutely stunning. I can see a little of the old you, but I love the new you. Joe will be ecstatic.” Beth looked over her shoulder to see whether her father had appeared from inside the jet. Joe was such an imposing individual that everyone genuflected even their thoughts to him.

Over Beth’s shoulder, Claire saw Joe moving down the stairway of the plane in a commanding stride. He spied the two women, and ignoring the chauffeur started to walk rapidly in their direction. Claire’s immediate thought was, ‘Oh, my, he’s coming to me. I should be going to him.’

Beth read her mind; she said in a low voice, “Just stand still. Joe has missed you more than you’ll ever know.”

Joe stopped about ten feet from Claire. He studied her from head to foot. Claire wore the pale blue summer dress that Joe once told her was his favorite. White spike heel shoes graced her feet, and she wore a strand of real pearls from Japan that Joe had given her on her birthday one year. Her red hair glistened in the light.

Joe finally spoke, “I wouldn’t have thought you could get more beautiful, but the changes you’ve made to yourself are truly a work of art. If I ever need plastic surgery, I want the name of your doctor.”

Claire’s face wrinkled up, and she bit her lip. She snorted away the beginning of a cry. She threw herself into Joe’s welcoming arms. The pair kissed passionately, as though they had only been apart a few weeks and not almost three years - or was it four. When they finally pulled apart, Joe pulled her away from him and looked deep into her eyes again. Her cheeks were streaked with tears of joy.

Joe’s look could reduce some errant employee or service person to a status lower than whale shit, but in this case his look carried a love and warmth that he exhibited only the last months of their relationship. Beth had told her back than that she had changed Joe for the better, made him softer and better.

Claire stroked his cheek with one hand until Joe held it and brought it to his lips and kissed her palm. He pulled her back to him for another kiss.

Beth said insistently, “Hey, don’t hog her. I miss her too.”

The lighter side of Joe laughed after the kiss. He said, “I can’t believe it. I don’t know you, but I do. You look so different, yet I know underneath it’s the same woman - you even feel that same in my arms.” Claire hadn’t seen this lighter side of him very often.

Beth said, “Can you come with us; be with us tonight?”

Claire nodded, but gestured over her shoulder; she would willingly follow them to their hotel. “My car is here.”

Beth said, “If you don’t mind, one of our aides can drive it to the hotel we’re at - the Four Seasons, as you might expect. It’s only a few miles. We don’t want to spend a moment away from you now that you’re with us again.”

Claire nodded, and Beth waved over two young men who had also been on the flight. Both looked exceptionally efficient and ready to spring into action regardless of what Beth or Joe asked of them. Claire passed her keys to one of them, and gave him a description of her car and where she’d parked. He and the other lackey headed off into the posh terminal building. Behind them, Claire saw the last of the luggage being hoisted into the trunk of the white limousine. The chauffeur marched smartly around and stood at near attention waiting for his passengers.

Joe and Claire put their arms around each other and walked to the long car with Beth walking close beside them. Both continued to study Claire’s near appearance, as though she was from another planet. Claire blushed under their critical eyes.

Inside the limo, Beth said, “I was wrong before. I don’t see the old you. From the outside, you are a much different person. Do you like the new you?”

Claire recounted, “Oh, yes, very much. It was an opportunity to get rid of a few things about my face that always bugged me. Even I think I’m prettier now.”

Beth ventured, “Maybe it’s good we haven’t seen you for a while. The shock of your new look is softened by our time apart.”

Joe exclaimed, “Claire - it’ll take me a while to get used to your new name and your new look. Claire, you are beautiful, and as always both inside and out.” Joe could be so smooth with women at times; other times he had been commanding, dominate to the point of being obnoxious and strident.

Beth and Claire whispered briefly to each other just inside the limousine, and both finished smiling broadly at one another. Joe politely ignored the interaction, but suspected the subject matter.

The ride to the Four Seasons took only fifteen minutes. During that time, Joe and Beth questioned Claire about the intervening years. Claire told them about Jill, her transformation in more detail including her motivation for changing careers, and then about meeting Jim Mellon, Crystal Lee, and the rest of what had become her intentional extended family. Of course, being circumspect she left out the juicy and sexy parts, but the way she smiled at some parts of the story left no doubt that her proclivities for sexual play remained in tact. Claire had chuckled internally at one point at one thought: ‘Once a nymphomaniac, always a nymphomaniac.’

A platoon of bellhops met the limousine at the Four Seasons. In seconds, the trunk had been emptied and their luggage brought into the hotel. The trio walked through the lobby to the elevator and in seconds were whisked up to the penthouse suite that Joe Mansard had permanently leased and customized. The luggage arrived on their heels, and as had happened often before, the bags were put in the proper rooms, on the proper luggage racks. Without waiting for anything so mundane as gratuities, the bellhops vanished. Claire had seen Joe’s arrivals before and remained amazed at the deference paid to him by the staff. She knew the staff would be well rewarded for their efficient and unimposing behavior.

Claire flowed into Joe’s arms for a longer and deeper kiss. His lips on hers brought back a flood of memories of their earlier times together. She swooned and welcomed his tongue and roaming hands.

Joe softly said, “Claire, lose the dress - everything but the shoes, stockings, and pearls.” He sat down to watch the strip tease he knew would follow.

Claire slowly and seductively stepped away from him, and slowly and deliberately unbuttoned each of the small white buttons on her dress, pausing between each unfastening. When she reached the last button, she delicately and seductively stepped out of the dress, carefully draping the light blue frock over the arm of a nearby chair.

She turned, allowing Joe and Beth to see her in the white thigh high stockings she wore with delicate lace around her thighs, her white lace thong, and the matching bra that barely contained her full breasts. The high heels brought out the muscular and shapely tone of her long legs. Claire reached in front of her breasts to the front clasp on her thin brassiere. She undid the latch, but paused and looked deep into Joe’s eyes, the bra still constraining her orbs. Slowly, she allowed the material to part and let it fall from her arms behind her, leaving her full breasts and erect nipples erotically on display. She shimmied slightly as she turned back to Joe.

Claire pulled two pale pink ribbon ties on either side of her hips, releasing the thong that dropped from between her legs to the floor. She turned with her back to Joe, and without bending at the knee, leaned over, and in slow motion picked up the thong. Claire knew this act put her pussy on display to Beth and Joe, and the act made her body look extra luscious and sexy as it highlighted her legs and trim ass. She stood and turned, displaying herself to her admirers in only her shoes, stockings, and pearls. She took three steps forward and dropped the thong into Joe’s lap. He immediately picked up the frilly garment and inhaled her essence.

Claire felt the thrill return to a corner of her mind, the same thrill she occasionally got when she had been an escort to someone particularly nice and appealing to her. Joe and Beth were some of those people. She briefly worried about becoming so enamored with the lustful sensations that she’d return to her past profession, but then realized what she felt was probably normal lust and passion for her lovers.

That was a preview of Crystal Clear - Book Three. To read the rest purchase the book.

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