She quickly remembered women wore less below the hemline these days. She wasn’t left wing, for the most part. Genevieve was a supporter of everyone’s rights, including those that favored going commando.
She was fascinated by Francesca. The girl had whipped out her cell phone and begun pressing alphanumeric characters at the pace of an Indy 500 auto. What was it that made young women so eager to move through life so quickly, and forget all about the courage and attenuation learning took, to become your best person?
There was one way Genevieve could find out.
***
Zoey Parker rubbed ice over her back and the front of her neck. The heat was unbearable. Air conditioning in the small terminal had sputtered and the fans the hospitality agents switched on cooled the inside at a paltry pace. Zoey pulled her suitcase outside. Shade wasn’t ample but she saw a patch of some at the far end of the location.
A makeshift heliport was around the back and Zoey was thrilled to find there were helicopters. They were deconstructed, her best guess, and Zoey hopped into one and pulled the suitcase along with her. She sat in the rider’s side and closed her eyes.
Zoey hummed a tune to take her mind off the heat. Francesca said she would touch down later in the day, which gave her another four hours to hang out. The helicopter she was in seemed as good an idea to pass time as any.
Zoey took off her mini dress and set it in the pilot’s seat. She felt even hotter. Zoey sat up. She didn’t see any trace of hospitality or any attendants; the town she was in was fairly small. She’d been vacationing with some people she’d met and they’d taken a train down to Capistrano.
They offered to take Zoey with them to Vegas and she would have gone if she could pay her own way. It was one of the big differences between her and her cousin Francesca. Sometimes Zoey believed Francesca would go anywhere with anyone if she believed she would make a new friend. Maybe Francesca would too.
She sat up again and hauled off her T-shirt. Clad in a black bra and black and purple panties, Zoey felt a gush of stale air. It was not an ocean breeze but it cooled her skin better than anything else she had tried.
“What do we have here?” the repair pilot said.
Zoey snuck a peek at the thin, dusty teenager. Zoey looked at him again. Geez, he looked really young.
“You must be really tanked from all the heat,” he said. His coveralls were stained with transmission fluid and his skin was flecked with exhaust.
Zoey turned her head. “Want something?”
“You got anything?” he shot back.
The pilot edged up to the copter and stepped on a flex-ladder. Zoey turned back to see what he was doing and put her face right into his crotch. “Ew,” she said.
“Hey, hey,” the young guy complained. “You trying to get yourself dirty, girl?” he said.
Zoey looked at him. “You have no meat on you,” she told him.
“I hate to burst your bubble but I got a lot of flank,” the pilot slapped a palm against his crotch. He palmed a massive bulge under his clothes. He looked down at himself. Zoey imagined the fun he had with how much he was packing. He looked over and smiled and he bounced his groin in his hand.
Zoey laughed. “People can see you, for sure,” she said.
“Let 'em,” the pilot said. “This is my weekend off,” he told her.
“Yeah?” Zoey asked.
“You betcha,” the guy said. He hopped down to the ground and shook a leg. His cock was covered by boxers and Zoey could see the outline of his penis from the side. His coveralls were unzipped far below his navel. Zoey looked at his tank top. It was soaked and had glued to his skin. She could see that he had an ‘outie.’
“I got a place a few miles down,” he said wiping his hands with a dirty rag.
“For real?” Zoey said.
She thought for second. “I’ve got a ride coming,” she told him. The pilot stepped out of his coveralls. His boxers slung low from his narrow teenage hips. “How old are you?” Zoey asked.
“I won’t tell you mine if you won’t tell me yours,” the guy smiled. “Listen I’ve seen today’s flight list. Nothing is touching down here for the next several hours,” he said.
“Tell me about it,” Zoey agreed.
“How ‘bout it?” the pilot said. “My place is real safe.”
Zoey listened. “It’s air-conditioned,” he offered.
There weren’t any flights for the next few hours, which was true. “Okay,” she said.
“My 4-by-4 is this way,” the pilot said.
Zoey stopped him in his tracks. “What, you’re leaving?” she asked him.
“Sure am,” he told her. “Hell, I don’t even work here,” he said. “Not after today,” he said. “We going or what?”
“Yeah,” Zoey shrugged.
Fifteen minutes after the pilot parked at his trailer, Zoey got a little anxious. “Know what, I think I —“ and her voice trailed off when the teen pulled out his dick and flashed her, right around the other trailers that were within walking distance.
“That’s a package,” whistled Zoey.
“Yeah and it gets bigger. Come n’ watch,” the teen said.
“I dunno,” Zoey said.
“Okay. Door’s unlocked. Don’t stay out here too long. You might get burned,” he told her. He went in the trailer letting the door hit with a thud.
Zoey hefted her suitcase and opened the door. She didn’t know why she thought Francesca was so reckless… look at herself. She was actually thinking about offering a guy her first blowjob. Maybe if she was good, she could make a career out of it, she thought crazily. Maybe he had a computer and Internet and they could broadcast online together she thought, shaking her head…
***
Francesca was in seventh heaven. The meal on the jet was delicious. No, it was culinary art, she thought. She popped another braised tuna with teriyaki into her mouth and jiggled with joy.
“Mmm, Genevieve, where do you get this food,” Francesca obsessed. “It’s absolutely divine.”
Genevieve had expressed her fondness for hedonistic pleasure. “When you are my age you see the world from a completely different filter,” she remarked candidly.
“I think I could get used to this,” Francesca said. The clouds they soared into were so near Francesca imagined she could actually touch them. “Home was never like this.”
That was all the lead-in Genevieve needed. “Where are you from?” she said.
“No place. Not really,” Francesca said. “After I got my GED, I decided to be a gypsy.”
Francesca laughed. Not at anything particularly funny but because Genevieve was. She laughed so hard, the co-pilot entered the cabin. Genevieve said she was fine.
“I cannot remember when I have had such an amusing time,” Genevieve cackled. It was a different laugh. Short and choppy, and so very, very genuine. Francesca was happy she met Genevieve.
When she came down from the laughter Genevieve got down to the gritty. “Francesca, I want to ask you something,” she said dabbing at her eyes with the corner of a handkerchief.
“Ask away,” Francesca said. “I’ve got a summer of fun and I’m not afraid to live it.”
Genevieve became still. Francesca grew quiet. Then Genevieve laughed again… loud. “Oh, why couldn’t I have been a girl like you!” she said fervently.
“I don’t know. You can,” Francesca said, thinking about it.
“That’s what I’d like to talk to you about,” Genevieve said.
“Ms. Du Perl, we will be landing in San Capistrano within the hour. Continue to enjoy your flight,” was announced over the speakers.
Captain John Stable turned to co-pilot and friend Joe Reeve. He set the directional gage another few degrees. “You think Ms. Du Perl knows what she is doing?” John asked.
“Things happen when you try something new,” Joe answered. “Do you remember how you were when you were that age?”
“I was never that age,” John said.
/> The pilots laughed.
***
“Francesca, I would like to offer you a job,” Genevieve said.
“What?” her young friend asked.
“Francesca, I’d like to offer you a job as my protégé,” Genevieve said. “Let me tell you about my company and my idea for my next campaign…”
***
Genevieve shared the marketing plan she envisioned and held Francesca with rapt attention. Two croissants polished off with a carafe of mint-infused latte afterwards and Genevieve completed her pitch with her long view. It was ubiquitously detailed but she wanted to present Francesca the scope of the endeavor.
When she was finished she asked Francesca what she thought.
“Wonderful! I adore all of it,” squealed Francesca. “How soon before we begin?”
Genevieve paused. “There might be a problem,” she pondered.
“Everyone would have to agree to secrecy,” Francesca said. “A confidentiality clause could suffice,” she said.
“Clever girl,” Genevieve said. “Every one of my staff has signed one. The question we don’t know is how many would agree to participate in such rouse.”
“It would be the naughtiest strategy if it works,’ Genevieve added.
“And when it does it will cause a raucous,” said Francesca
“A cosmetics model tea party!” Genevieve said. “And what we auction off will be the most ribald devilry since the Gubernatorial Tea Party,” she gleamed.
“By personal request no doubt,” Francesca stated.
“No doubt,” confirmed Genevieve. “You’ve found your role already,” Genevieve praised.
“Any everyone else’s,” Francesca giggled.
“The scandal,” Genevieve feigned shock.
“The drama,” Francesca added.
“How to fully go about it..? Genevieve thought aloud.
“Start with Zoey,” said Francesca.
“Your cousin?” Genevieve said.
“She picks up things — fast,” Francesca said.
“Really now?” said Genevieve.
“She has the inside tickle on how we girls — and the rest of us,” Francesca added, “think.”
Genevieve’s interest was sky high. “Your cousin must be quite ‘out of the box’,” Genevieve said.
“I’ll bet she’s out of the box right now,” Francesca said.
***
Her little pussy felt like a FleshJack that was on fire.
Wylie Yewell had draped one blanket over the floor. He had flapped a sheet down first but the corners kept curling up when they scooted around. Curl-up was exactly what his toes were doing. Zoey was sucking the bejeezus out of his cock. His dick was oozing pre-cum and throbbing harder than a brick slapped on wet mortar.
He drummed his fingertips over Zoey so she would slow down some. She sucked on his prick harder, making long passes up his crankshaft then chowing back down to his reddish-brown pubes. Hell-if-he-knew where a girl learned how to give a blowjob like the one he was getting… Dammit to hell if Zoey was younger than he was. She was a fucking Wildcat at sucking cock!
Zoey had no idea what she was doing before… She had looked up bunch of stuff on the tablet device pad on Wylie’s makeshift work desk while he fed and bathed his watchdog, but she didn’t believe any of the stuff she was injecting into her brain was going to work on a dude.
But after she bought herself some time, she did the unthinkable…
She tried it…
***
“Hey pilot, how long is that going to take?” Zoey had said over the splash and yelps from the back of the trailer.
The door flew open and Wylie stuck his head in. “What up? Can’t wait to see why mechanics taste like candy?” he teased.
“You wish,” Zoey said.
“What you doing there?” he asked
Zoey tilted the electronic pad to her chest, Wylie didn’t need to see what she reading. If he did, she’d have some other kind of worry.
“I want to see how long I have before I need to get back,” she said.
She typed a few keys on the keyboard overlay and called up the website for the airport as soon as she said it. “How long you think we’ll be? she asked.
“Not long. Unless you like it long,” Wylie said. He shoved his tongue to the side of mouth. The motion made a sound like a ‘pop’ that was blatantly innuendo and sexy.
“Boys,” she said and tossed her hair. “Jeez, it’s hot,” she said.
“I’ll be back in a little while. Got to make sure us men are presentable,” Wylie smiled.
“I’m good when you give yourself a good degrease — and swap your hound for some clean pooch,” she said.
“Clean pooch. That’s a good one. I like you girly-girl,” Wylie said.
“Wash,” Zoey requested.
“Going,” Wylie answered. “Gimme another few,” he said and shut the door.
Zoey clicked on the schedule for the few charter flights to make a history with the site’s cookies. Men sure smelled differently than she ever thought.
She opened up the browser page again in pursuit of a higher adult education. Zoey made a Boolean search for ‘handjob.’ A rush of URLs loaded to the extreme. “Geez,” Zoey said.
Zoey read the sub pages from a few sites. She read page after page until she shot out of the chair. She went to the kitchen and came back to the device pad with a banana and some green dish washing liquid.
Zoey picked up where she had left off: “Find a towel, a bottle of lube, and a dildo,” she read. She had the towel — she had been sitting on one to keep her legs from sticking to the chair. When the tailor door opened, out went the cool. She was happy Wylie had an AC blasting refreshing coolness. It was way fresher than stale airport air.
‘Sex that is really, really good is unmistakably messy,’ the website stated. Zoey moved her finger over the tablet and clicked a link. A page flickered that was quickly replaced with a new one. A view screen loaded and a video popped on.
“Oh— my— God—” Zoey chortled.
She was reading the text in a transcript but swapped that for actionable content. ‘Boom’ to the ‘Wow’ if she wasn’t introduced to a sex tutorial… recorded for ‘instructional purposes.’ Zoey suppressed a squeal.
‘Begin with the feet, then the legs, and work your way to the back,’ — the model in the video was certainly smooth, Zoey noted. He had fuzzy buttocks that looked like peach hairs. Men were so different from them — Zoey and the women — who were doing, ‘The Male Erotic Massage’.
‘Continue from the back and then start the sensual massage. It may take practice and having a partner to practice with is encouraged. The duration of each session should continue for 30 minutes at the very least and 45 minutes or longer if you intend to give a sensual erotic massage superiorly’…
Zoey jumped to her feet and lifted her hands. She turned in a 360, the newest victor in the eternal battle between the sexes. She made mock crowd applause. She sat back down when the model in the video started to moan. Men were really vocal when they experienced arousal; this was a surprise.
The model receiving the erotic message moaned stronger. Zoey scrambled to work the volume control. She was in mental rapture. Men were not only responsive to touch as she and all women were… when they were touched, at least this one model… they could react loudly.
‘Remove all jewelry from the hands and arms, such as bracelets, and rings. Nails that are long may scratch or peel layers from the skin. Please begin any massage with shortened nails to allow the maximum expression for pleasure’.
Jackpot! Zoey slapped the desk causing the device pad to get the shakes. She spread a space around the device and the video continued.
‘Start with soft, feathery touches. Move your touches so the massage initiates from the back of the body. Work your touch to the front of the body’…
Zoey watched the woman tap the male model. He actually rolled over by physical command…
&nb
sp; ‘As you massage the individual parts of the body, give attention to each one. And do not skim over the perineum…’
Zoey pulled up the search field and typed the letters ‘perineum.’ Her lips mouthed the words, ‘Oh, wow’.
‘This is the area between the scrotum and the anus. Touch this region with light, gentle caresses. You are encouraged to tease. Caress the places around this area with smooth, light touches. Touch the pubic bone region very gently. Slip your touch over this area very lightly. A gentler touch wakens the nerves in this very sensual area. When your partner feels his hairs are standing up end, you are giving him a message passionately’…
The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 23 - 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books for Women Page 3