Waking up, chap 8
I was cuddling with Mary in bed a few days before Xmas vacation. She had just finished her last exam that afternoon, and we had ‘celebrated’ for several hours in my bed.
Me: “Do you have plans for Xmas break?” Mary: “Not really, I was planning on just staying at the house over the break.” Me: “I don’t mean to pry, but is it because you have no place to go? No family?” Mary: “I only have a step father now, and he really doesn’t care much about me and we don’t enjoy each other’s company, so …”. Me: “OK, let’s play a game. I want you to think for a while and tell me 3-5 places you’d like to visit in the next 10 years. Then tell me. They could be countries, they could be cities, it could be an island. Think. Then talk.” Mary thought for a while and said “well, definitely France. Ad Italy. Somewhere in the Caribbean, maybe several somewheres.” Me: “Well Aruba is nice, especially if you SCUBA dive. So is Curaçao. Martinique is fun, and it is part of France. Saint Martin/Sint Maarten is half French and half dutch, and has beautiful beaches. The US Virgin Islands are beautiful. I have never been to St Lucia but have always wanted to go. You can do a little research on them and polish up your list for the next 10 years. Listen, I don’t have any plans for vacation either. I’d really like to spend my vacation with you. I just love spending time with you, even when it is just talking about cats. But honestly (I say with a small smile) I really think that you have a slight obsession with cats. Mary laughed and said “yeah, maybe a little bit”. My reply: “And the Empire State Building is a little building.” Mary laughed again. Me: “I love hearing you laugh.” Mary blushed. Me: “So, Xmas vacation together? BUT, I don’t want anyone to know about it. It isn’t that I am ashamed of you, it’s that I have now realized, especially after the mtg that we just had, that some of the sisters are getting a little jealous of our closeness.” Mary blushed and said “I understand and I would love to spend every second of the Xmas holiday with you.“
I look her in the eyes, silently, for about 10 seconds, then say: “Mary, I am going to confide something to you that you have to promise not to tell anyone. It is MY secret. I trust you more than just about anyone. Oh, don’t worry, it isn’t anything illegal or bad. But do you promise to never say anything about what I am going to say?” (Mary nods her head ’yes’). OK, I may have overstated my poverty when I moved into the sorority house. And by that, I mean that I never mentioned my assets and income. When I said that first day “I don’t have a lot of money”, I referring to the fact that I had less than $30 in my wallet. People assumed that I meant in general, but I was talking about at that moment, in my pockets. It wasn’t technically a lie, I told the truth, but people read other things into it.
I have said on one than more occasion that I used to program computers, right? Well, I had a great idea, wrote a program, sold most of the rights for a bundle up front, plus a small monthly copyright rental payment of about $500/mo. I used to live in Silicon Valley, which is one of the most expensive places in the world to rent or buy a house—not THE most expensive, but one of—it is on a level with Tokyo, NYC, Paris and London. With my upfront payment, I paid off the entire mortgage on my house that I had bought in 1991. Now the house when I bought it was pretty much a piece of crap tract home built in 1963. It’s in pretty good shape now. I replaced the original windows with double pane windows, had a new roof put on, I repainted it inside and out, had the original hardwood floors re-polished and re-lacquered, completely redid both bathrooms, ditto in the kitchen, etc., etc. I started renting out rooms to other programmers so I could have spending cash. I gave them a great deal, about 20% under market rate, because they HAD to pay in cash (so I paid no taxes) and they HAD to get a post office box, they couldn’t use my home as their home address. They were happy and I was happy with our deal.
Near the end of 1999, I had become tired of it all and decided that I wanted to travel. I sold all my stocks (thank god, just before the big crash! ). It really wasn’t that much, but I bought treasury notes and municipal bonds. Safe, sound, guaranteed placement. Still safe today. Again, thank god because the market crashed about 4 months later and I had gotten GREAT (meaning very high) interest rates for MY bonds, and the interest for new bonds dropped very quickly as the market tanked. With the experience of renting rooms under my belt, I just figured I could rent out the entire house to a family and use the money to travel. One of my friends, a guy that I had worked with, had gotten married and now his wife was pregnant. They couldn’t find a house to buy or rent and were starting to get frantic. I lived in a quiet neighborhood with great schools. So I told them they could rent my house, fully furnished. I gave them a pretty good deal, but told them that the rent would increase at market rate increases. Not UP TO market rate, just that if rental fees went up 8% year-over-year, that their rent would go up by 8%. They rented for about 10 years, which gave me peace of mind because I KNEW that having a renter you could trust was MUCH more important than earning $800 more a month and possibly having someone trash the house. I have it rented out to a different family now, suggested by my friend who was moving out, for about $5500/month. (Mary’s mouth dropped open in shock.) Hey, it’s fully furnished in a great neighborhood. I have been traveling around the U.S. for years, generally staying in small towns where I spend maybe 10% (or less) of what I collect every month, the rest I invest. Sometimes I sweet-talk my way into someone’s home, like I did with this sorority, and pay no rent. People like having a good cook around, or a good tutor for their daughter, or an older lady might just like company sometimes. And I mean company, not sex. I have built a lot of small gardens the last 10-15 years or so. (With a smile I added:) And I know how to play a LOT of boring ‘old people’ card games. Mary laughed. Listen, I generally pocket over $5000/month, most of which I have been investing in the market for the past 15 years. I wouldn’t call myself a multi-millionaire, but I don’t have a cash flow problem. I max out my retirement amount contributions every year, saving for the future. BTW, I also want you to know that some of the ‘mysterious donations’ made to the sorority when urgent and important purchases had to be made have been me.
You can understand why I don’t want you to talk about this, right? Everybody’s opinion of me will change and I will have to leave, just disappear again, and I like it here. I like all the sisters. There isn’t a bad apple in the bunch. I want to stay. I hope that you aren’t going to start acting differently because now you know that I own a house in Calif. Mary threw herself into my arms and said “No, not at all. This is just like you. Modest disposition, not a lavish lifestyle when obviously you could, helping others, often without taking credit for it, self-effacing, and just being a really nice guy.”
Me: “I told you this for a reason. We are going to be spending Xmas vacation together. It is the wrong time of year for France or Italy, much too cold, summer would be better for both. So, my plan for Xmas vacation (and remember, you can’t tell anyone) is for the two of us to island hop through the Caribbean for the next 3 weeks. Please don’t say that ‘ oh, you can’t ‘ because you can, you now know that it will be no hardship for me, and if you don’t come then I will stay here in the house to be with you. And color me selfish, I wanted some warm island breezes for a few weeks. I haven’t been to the Caribbean in over 15 years, I am sure that a lot has changed. Please come with me. You will make me a happy man.” Mary got very big eyes, blushed, looked down at the floor, and said, very quietly, “OK, yes”. I said “GREAT!” , jumped up, pulled her up, spun her around and kissed her on the lips. Alright we need to get our stories straight. I don’t like lying at all. However, as I have already explained, I have no problem telling people PART of the truth, leaving stuff out, and letting them assume stuff.
I am going to ask people at dinner tonight what their plans are for Xmas vacation. When I get to you, you say ‘Oh, I am going to stay here, and make some side trips here and there.’ Hey, that is true. And I will exclaim ‘hey, that’s my plan. But I know exactly where I want to go. I haven’t contacted many yet, so I don’t have a full list of exactly who and where, but I want to visit ex-Marine brothers near the east coast. Say, more or less between here and Charleston since I’ve never been there, it is supposed to be beautiful and I haven’t seen a lot of my brothers in over a decade. Mary, would you like to come with me? Have you ever been to Charleston? And I promise to avoid all my batshit crazy brothers. We can have a road trip! Mary, Please say yes, traveling alone is boring.’ Then you can smile and say ’that sounds like fun.’ So 100% true, just not ALL of the truth. We’ll fly out of Charleston to the Caribbean. I have a Marine buddy who will let me park the car in his driveway or garage for a few weeks while we are gone—I have already checked with him. This is going to be GREAT! At the same dinner I will offer to drive somebody to the airport IF they give me permission to drive their car while they are gone. I’ll promise to return it with a full tank of gas.
It turned out that the ’set up’ at dinner about ‘vacation plans’ went as hoped, and I got to borrow a Toyota Corolla with about 55,000 miles that had just had a full tune-up, with oil, radiator coolant, and transmission fluid changes and complete safety check, thanks to Timmy (BTW, Timmy was making money hand over fist because of my idea—he’d never made so much money before. Which is why he was begging for more sorority sisters to work at the shop. The ‘bait’ of the women got them in at first, but Timmy had LOTS of work for his ‘real’ mechanics, like engine rebuilds, radiator replacements, etc. Even got to be “the trusted mechanic” for quite a few of the smallish to medium sized businesses in the county, and he did ALL the work on their small fleets of cars and trucks. He was so busy he had to hire a third mechanic.)
V-day (Vacation day) arrives and we leave at around 7AM to miss the traffic, drive about 200 miles to one of my former squad leaders, an ex-sergeant. I had called about a week earlier (as I did for all my prospective stops, basically the same conversation each time) and I had asked, so I knew that I was welcome to sleep there and that he lived alone. I said that I was traveling with a friend, who would also be staying. I also told him that I loved cooking, that I had really gotten into it after mustering out, and I would love to cook for him. I asked if he was planning on inviting old platoon or company mates over to visit during the day, or possibly spend the night. I asked for a bedroom as far away from everybody else’s as possible. He sounded confused. I said “well maybe I’ve started to snore in my old age and don’t want to keep you up all night. Or maybe it will be rather obvious when I show up.”
We pull up, and for the first time I do my little arrival speech: “Hey Sarge, great to see you! This is my friend Mary, I told you that I was coming with a friend. (His eyes almost popped out of his head.) We decided to travel around a bit during her college Xmas vacation, we’ll be visiting Charleston, eventually. Let’s move my crap into the house for the night.” So I move in, to the bedroom furthest from his and we head back to sit at the kitchen table. I say: “Great to see you again, Pete. It’s just been too long. But we should talk about lunch and dinner Are you sure you won’t mind me cooking? I really enjoy cooking. I really got into it since we had to eat all that crap when deployed.” Pete: “Nah, I don’t mind—I hate cooking. Well, except for grilling. Have at it, Cappy.” Mary pipes in: “You made the right choice. Wait until you taste his cooking!”. Pete looks intrigued, I can tell that he wants to ask questions, but restrains himself. Me: “Do you have any medical, allergic, religious, or moral limitations on the food choices that I should know about?” Pete: “Hell, no. After the corps, I’d eat a rat. We had to often enough when deployed. (Laughing). Me: “So, I propose a spiced, roast pork tenderloin, finished on the grill, with white rice and … well either peas or broccoli or carrots as a side for lunch.Sound OK?” (Yup). “Are all of the 3 veggies that I mentioned alright with you? (Yup) What about cauliflower, or parsnip, or turnips, winter squash? Alright, so I saw that you have a farmer’s market today, open until 1PM. It’s almost 10AM, so we have time. And how about lamb chops, with maybe parrots or sautéd celery, or baby parsnips? Oh, Mary, you look tired, did the drive get to you, do you have a sore neck?”
Mary: “A little, and we got up early for the drive, so I am a little tired. Me: “Hey, Pete, a little rude, but can I disappear and give Mary a quick neck rub, and maybe other things to let her relax and she can take a quick nap while we go shopping?” Pete: “no sweat man, take all the time you need.”
So Mary and I head to the back bedroom. Mary takes off her top and bra and lays on the bed, face down. I start gently rubbing her neck and shoulders. After about 3-4 minutes, I say “you know, I really had something else in mind for relaxing you”. Mary starts rolling over and says “God, I thought you’d never ask.” She unbuttons and peels off her jeans and panties, and grabs a pillow. Me: “Mary, you don’t need the pillow.” Mary: “But …”. Me: “Mary, you don’t understand. You can be as loud as you want. Let yourself go. Have fun, total release, which you’ve never been able to do before.” Mary “But Pete …” Me: “Well, first, after tomorrow, you probably aren’t ever going to see him again. Second, when I walk back out to the kitchen, I am going to get a look of such envy that I have probably never seen in my life. Third, you have to understand that you are currently in Marine Macho land, and that Pete is going to tell EVERY Marine that I know, or he knows about this. And I want to make sure that we get a picture of the 3 of us together before we leave, to prove it. So I repeat—feel free to let yourself go, completely. It really is a freeing feeling.”
And I said, let’s warm up slowly, with Missionary, legs over shoulders, and put the pillow under your butt. And I start kissing her all over, especially the places that I have learned that she likes, such as the nape of her neck, between her breasts, the inside of her elbows, and most especially her aureola, which I first kissed, then started licking, and then started sucking gently on her nipples while kneeling her wonderful mounds. I knew from experience that she loved it when I squeezed her tits and that she had sensitive nipples. Me: ”Mary, where are you in your cycle?” She, completely lost : “what?” Me: “Are you on the pill?” Mary: “Of course.” Have you had any type of sex with anyone but me since you met me? You know that I always use protection, because I have these ’study sessions’ and am very careful. But sometimes, accidents happen. So 4 days before this trip, 7 days after my last ’study session” I went to the clinic and got full panel STD tests done. I got the results yesterday. I’m all clean, verified 4 days ago. I am trusting you when you say that you haven’t had sex and that you are on the pill. Have you forgotten to take the pill any day in the last few months? And do you take it more or less at the same time every day?” Mary: “ I have never missed a day, and I take it around breakfast time every day. It depends on what time I have breakfast, sometimes before, sometimes after. What is getting into you?”. I want you to experience what you haven’t before. I want you to feel free to let go completely, to make as much noise as you want. And I want to give you the experience of a bareback ride. No condom. Have you ever done that before? (Mary: Quiet no) I’ll only do it it you WANT to and not because you think that I want to. Are you up for the ride of your life?” Mary get a huge grin on her face and say “fuck me silly, killer”.
So the whole situation, the oral exhibitionism, the “completely let go”, and the thrill of the idea of getting a bareback ride, got her very hot, very quickly. When I heard her panting and moving, obviously very close, I pushed ‘CUM’ at her, and man did she let go. After she came down (about 20 seconds later) I pushed ‘CUM’ at her again, and she went off a second time and started coming down after almost 30 seconds, so I started pushing a tiny ‘cum’ at her about every 10 seconds. She was having multiple orgasms, never quite coming down, over and over and over. After pushing the 5th ‘cum’ at her, I stopped pushing. I had a startling surprise very soon. SHE KEPT COMING all by herself, over and over and over, ever 5-10 seconds. She was moaning, rolling her head back and forth, arching her back, saying “oh, oh, OH, oh, OH, oh, OH, OH” over and over and then was hit with another massive orgasm and she screamed her head off. After that orgasm, I pulled out. It took her over a minute to come down. She looked at me reproachfully, pouted, and asked “Why did you stop?”
I replied: “Truthfully, I was afraid that I might hurt you. Honestly. I have given multiple orgasms to women before, but absolutely never anything close to what you experienced. I was in uncharted territory, and I didn’t know what might happen if you passed out, or what your blood pressure was. Speaking of which, I want to measure your pulse rate. JESUS! It’s over 150! That’s what your heart rate should be after running miles and miles in a race. I am so glad that I stopped—I could have killed you!” Mary: “When can we do this again?” (Giving me the doe-eye look that always gets her what she wants from me.) Me: “Only after you rest up. You have to take a long, relaxing, restful nap. I’ll come wake you up to eat lunch. OK?”
I walked back into the kitchen and Pete just stared at me. I said, as if nothing special had happened, “Well, Mary is taking a nap, she is feeling very relaxed. I have some cooking stuff in my trunk, including spices, let’s bring it into the kitchen.” He just got a small smile on his face, shook his head, and we went out to the car and brought in a couple of boxes of cooking gear and spices. Me: “So nothing against you, but I am a neat freak and after my time in the sandbox, scared of catching any of the horrible diseases we saw over there. You remember that guy whose forearm was slowly MELTING off his bones? That was gross. So I brought a spray bottle and a big bottle of cleaning vinegar. Well mix up a 50/50 mixture in a measuring cup, and put some in the spray bottle, then soak your sponges, one by one, in a bowl with a similar mixture. Once that is started, we go shopping. OK with you?” He still had this bemused look on his face, but said OK. During the shopping trip, he started prying. “So, you and Mary, um, how …” . I just said “stop.” Then “I don’t mind talking about it, but I won’t do it behind her back. We can talk over lunch about how we met, etc. Alright?” Pete, with a smile “however you want to handle it brother”, followed by (with a grin) “By the way, thanks for asking for the bedroom at the other side of the house.”
We headed out and did all the shopping. When we got back, he immediately started charcoal for his Weber kettle grill (just on one side, so a ‘direct heat’ very hot zone, and an ‘indirect heat’ warm/sorta hot zone. I took the pork tenderloin out of its wrapper, patted it dry with a paper towel, and put it in the microwave for 40 seconds at 60% power. I often cheat’, especially with pork, to heat the meat before placing it in the oven or on the grill. Microwaving will warm ALL of the meat, all the way through, even the center. When going straight from fridge to oven, the center and outside are at 36-40 degrees. With my method, the center is at 85-90 degrees, just like the outside. I don’t cook in the microwave, I just use it to get all the meat up to, or slightly above, room temperature, all the way through.
I mixed up my signature spice rub (Italian seasoning, garlic powder, cumin, salt, a pinch of smoked paprika, and fresh ground black pepper, finished with a squeeze of fresh lemon directly on the meat after rubbing it just before it goes on the grill). I rubbed the tenderloin and let it sit inside the microwave until Pete told me that the grill was ready. I put it on the “indirect” side, put the kettle top on with the air holes closed. Pete: “The air holes are closed, you are going to kill the fire with no oxygen.” Me: “I want to warm up the pork at this temperature, while cooling down the “direct heat” side. In about 4 minutes, I will open the air holes on top, roll the tenderloin over to the hot side, and cover it again. The coals will slowly heat back up, and every 3 minutes or so, I will roll the tenderloin about 1/6 or 1/8th to get a light char all over. In about 25 minutes the coals will be blistering hot again, there will be a wonderful, spicy crust on the pork, and I will take it off the grill and check the meat temp. If it is over 135, I will let it rest, covered, for 10 minutes and check the temp again. If it isn’t over 142 at that time, it goes back on the ‘indirect heat’ side for about 5-8 minutes.
About 15 minutes before I was going to take the meat off, I ‘cheated’ with the potatoes by heating them full power in the microwave for about 2 minutes per spud (10 mins). Then when I took the meat off to tent and rest, I put the spuds on the ‘indirect heat’ side for 8 minutes. I rolled them to the ‘direct heat’ side and charred them for about 2 mins. When I took the pork off, it was at 137, and 10 mins later it was at 144. Lunch was ready. I asked Pete to set the table. I went and gently woke up Mary with a kiss, said “your meal awaits you, my princess” and carried her into the kitchen and set her on her seat. A little small talk, then Pete got his first bite. Pete: “Shit, Mary wasn’t kidding when she said ‘Wait until you taste his cooking’ and you weren’t kidding when you said that you had really gotten into it after mustering out. This is fantastic. And what the hell did you do to the potatoes to make them taste like this?” Me: “ I rubbed a little olive oil and French herbs on the outside before grilling them.” And I shrugged. Pete said “brother, you can cook for me anytime you want!” Mary giggled. Mary: “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it the first time he cooked for us. He somehow made a delicious meal out of the CRAP that the former cook had in the kitchen.” Pete, not one to let an opportunity slip through his fingers, asked: “so is that how you two met, in a kitchen?” I did the arm wave, palm up, to Mary, indicating that she should tell the story. So she did. Me asking to read a newspaper, getting to the sorority just as the cook was quitting, offering to cook for a week or so until we could find another cook, (Mary added “after he’d gone food shopping and cooked two meals, we didn’t WANT another cook”. Pete: “Well, I can sure believe that”). Tutoring any of the sisters that needed help in just about every subject under the sun, installing a new mains panel to protect the 1930s FUSEBOX setup that we had, properly grounding the system for the first time, completely rewiring the carriage house, then the kitchen, with modern wiring coming from the new mains, protecting Mary from a sexual predator, etc., etc., etc.
Pete just shook his head and said “Cappy could alway do the impossible, he is like a magician. He got us out of tight spots where we should have all been massacred. He somehow managed to find us the right equipment during severe shortages. His platoon had the lowest death rate among combat platoons in theater, across all military ground branches. Period. He was always a miracle worker, and based on noises that I heard this morning, he still is.” Mary blushed. I said: “Pete, you know that I always try to do my best, don’t make it sound unusual or surprising.” Pete: “For anyone else it would be, but for Cappy, it’s ‘just another day’ “. Mary: “I’m stuffed.” Me: “Gee, you got stuffed this morning as well.” (everybody laughed) Mary: “Well Mr C’s rule is ’the person who cooks doesn’t wash the dishes’, and it’s been that way at the sorority ever since he got there.” Pete: “Wait, he LIVES at the sorority?” Mary: “You know how you and he are brothers?” (Pete nods) “Well, Mr C and I are sisters; he joined our sorority.” Pete’s eyes bugged out. “And my sisters all swoon whenever he comes near and flirt outrageously with him.” Pete (astounded): “And that doesn’t bother you?” Mary: “He made it very clear from the very beginning that he was in no way monogamous. I made my choice, I live with it. Besides, you heard me earlier. Getting some of that every now and them makes me a very happy girl. Now, let’s clean up.”
After everything was spick and span, we talked a little more, generally about what we were doing or had been doing. We played cards for a while, then went to bed early. I told Mary when we were in bed: “Mary, what happened this morning really scared me. I know that everything turned out all right, but your heart rate was very, very high. Another experience like that might kill you. So I want to tone it down a little bit. I hope you understand.” So we had fun, just not an intense as earlier. Since we’d done missionary that morning, we went straight to cowgirl, Mary riding me slowly, her hands on the bed next to my shoulders, so that I could squeeze her tits and lick and suck on her nipples. We were going bareback again. I said: “You are starting to pant. Is the idea of Pete listening for you to start moaning and screaming making you horny?” I’d been pushing ‘I’m so horny’ for the past 3 minutes, starting weak, then slowly increasing the push, stronger and stronger. She managed to mumble a quiet “oh god yes”. So pushed a small ‘cum’. She shuddered and moaned very loudly. Me: “So you like the feeling of my cock skin rubbing against the walls of your pussy?” Mary: “oh god yes”. So pushed another small ‘cum’. She came, shuddered and moaned even more loudly. Me: “I love playing with your tits and sucking your nips while you fuck me.” She managed, through pants, “Oh god, me too.” And so I rewarded her by pushing a massive “CUM!” And she screamed for 20-25 seconds, almost wailing. It took her about another minute before she opened her eyes, and smiled at me. Me: “OK, enough of that”, and I pushed her off my cock. Very surprised look on her face. Me: “time for a little doggie to get your reward, sex bunny.” Suddenly a HUGE smile on her face, she loved getting fucked doggie style. She rolled over, stuck her ass way up in the air, wiggling it, and said “your doggie is ready”. Me: “You are more than just ready, you have pussy juices leaking down your thighs. So no foreplay, I am just going to shove it in and fuck you like crazy, Fast and Furious, piledriver style. And I did, I just fucked he hardened harder. I didn’t have to push her at all, she had three massive (and very loud) orgasms over a 6 or 7 minute period. Then I said “I’m going to come, I want to spray your tonsils. Make sure that you swallow it all!” , I pulled out and shoved my cock in her mouth and started face fucking her. I pushed another small ‘cum’ at her as a reward, the unloaded. She did swallow it all. Finally, wheezing, I said “Whew—that was a fuck for the ages, but I’m tired. And we should let Pete get some sleep. Let’s cuddle and snooze.”
Next morning, we had quiet, slow, romantic sex before heading out for breakfast. I made coffee, Pete wandered out, and I decided to make omelettes, French style, for breakfast with jam on toast and hash browns as sides. (I used some of the leftover potatoes from the night before, grated and fried them.) As we were eating breakfast, Pete said: “I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s you and you are the luckiest man on the planet, but I am still shocked that you are not only a member of a sorority, but also have hooked up with the most beautiful woman in the sorority.” I replied: “Luck, smuck. I worked and wheedled and basically tactically planned my assault on the sorority.” (Both Mary and Pete laughed.) And you have already figured out that Mary isn’t the only one I have had in my bed—Mary told you. Now I am NOT trying to insult Mary here, she will agree with me that it is true, but while Mary is absolutely gorgeous, she is NOT the most beautiful of my sisters in the sorority. Do you agree Mary?”
Mary: “Well, obviously Lucy and Amy. But I don’t have to worry about those stealing Mr C.” Pete: “Why not?” Mary: “They are both lesbians and already have girlfriends.” Pete laughed. I said: “Mary, you are absolutely gorgeous. But that isn’t why I want to spend so much time with you, or why I invited you to take a trip with me on Xmas vacation. I could have asked any one of 10 girls to come along with me.” (Pete’s eyes got big again) “I wanted to be with you because I just love being around you. You have a sunny disposition, you are nice to others, you smile a lot, you have a great attitude about life in general, you are funny, you listen, and you give to others. And you have an infectious laugh. I just want to be around you all the time. You have noticed that even when I have sex with somebody else in the afternoon, that YOU are the one I ask into bed at night, often just to snuggle and sleep with, right? Well, after taking a shower, I am not a complete and total caveman, just one on occasion.” Mary (blushing, and with a smile, quietly said): “yes, I have noticed.” Me: “And that’s why I wanted to spend every second of vacation with YOU, and show you new places, and give you new experiences. Seeing you happy makes me happy.” Mary said nothing but got a big smile on her face and gave me a hug.) Pete just shook his head, with a little smile on his face. Me: “Well, we should load up the car and be on our way.”
Pete: “Hey! You aren’t staying for lunch!??!” Me: “Pete, in all the time we served in the same platoon, were you ever able to pull one over on me?” (Pete got a surprised look on his face.) “I think what you mean is ‘I would really like it if you cooked for me again, and I really like looking at this gorgeous woman, I don’t often have beautiful women visit me. Besides, she isn’t wearing a bra.” (That was the first time in all the years that I had known him that I ever managed to make Pete blush.) Pete (sort of muttering): “Well, you did buy that leg of lamb yesterday—I don’t know how to cook it.” Then, not muttering at all, and (surprisingly) looking Mary in the eyes, said: “And I sure wouldn’t mind having this beauty around for a few more hours. You are correct in that I don’t often have women as beautiful as Mary visiting. I would love her company for a little while longer, bra or no bra.” Mary smiled, turned to me and said “Why don’t we stay until after lunch? We only have about 150 miles to drive to the next spot.” I replied, “Your wish is my command, Princess. Besides, I want to blow Pete’s mind with how I prepare a braised leg of lamb. Or maybe we’ll cook on the grill again. And we’ll eat a little early, because I want to get to the manufacturing plant before closing.”
I’ll try to keep this cooking stuff short. I ended up “pre-heating” the lamb in the microwave, to about 80 degrees. Pete started the grill, again with “hot” and “warm” sides. I made about 30 small slices all over the sides of the leg and inserted garlic cloves that I had cut in half. Put on a rub made of Dijon mustard and olive oil, then added rosemary, thyme, oregano, savory, and a tiny bit of fresh fennel leaves chopped very, very fine. Put the top on the grill and suffocated the coals for 3-4 minutes to cool down the fire, then put the leg on the hot side and seared it all over for about 15 minutes with the top off. Then I move the leg to the ‘warm, holding side’, put the top on with the air holes open and with the holes over the leg so the smoke would pass over the leg as it exited the Weber. I rolled it over 1/4 of the way about every 10 minutes, so that no one side was close to the ‘hot’ side all the time.
Pete would not shut up about how good it was, the best roast lamb he’d ever had. Mary said, with a smile: “See, we don’t just keep him around for the great sex. Honestly, that’s the #1 reason, but his cooking is a close #2, as is how well he looks after us. And he seems to just magically ‘make things happen’. Everything just runs like clockwork when he is around.”
Pete smiled and said: “So I guess he hasn’t changed THAT much since he left the corps. I remember we were once stuck out in the dessert for 4 days—we weren’t even supposed to be out a full day. Somehow he managed to keep it all together and magically everything turned out OK. He found two camels, and camels carry liquid in the humps, so we didn’t die of thirst. And he even made CAMEL taste good. Well, OK, that is an overstatement—nobody can make camel taste GOOD—he made camel edible, which is a miracle in itself. Camel is the most disgusting meat I have ever eaten. But he somehow made it so that we could eat it without barfing it bak up immediately, so we didn’t starve. After we were found, when we touched down at base, the colonel who commanded our regiment was waiting for us. He said ‘I had to come down and see for myself. I couldn’t believe it when I was told you were alive. You went out for an 8 hour patrol, equipped for a short patrol, wandered the desert for 4 days and came back alive. How?’ We all just pointed at Cappy, and said nothing. The colonel looked at Cappy ’so does the senior sergeant of the platoon often go out on patrol with a simple squad under his command?’ Even though he was looking at Cappy, the entire squad loudly said ‘YES SIR’ and some added after that ’thank GOD’. Cappy answered, ‘I prefer to evaluate the men under my command in real life situations, to see if training is holding up, or maybe new techniques are in order, sir’. The colonel said ‘I have heard good things about you from both your battalion and company commanders. I now realize I should have looked into it more closely.” He then asked ‘Have you ever considered moving up to gunnery sergeant?’ And Cappy replied ’No sir (and he did a thumb point’—you know like he was hitch-hiking—back at us, standing at attention) and continued ‘these mooks and the others in my platoon are enough trouble. Why would I want to babysit 500 more of them?’ (All of us in the squad started laughing, almost hysterically. We HAD just spent four days in the desert. He even got a smile out of the colonel.) He was awarded another bronze star for our wandering in the desert, but that’s another long story.”
Mary: “But I want to hear the story!” (with puppy dog eyes). Pete says: “I’m just giving you a reason to want to come back, beautiful. I’ll let you know every time a VFW dance is coming up, and I would be flattered if you would agree to accompany me. “ Mary: “Oh, I love getting dolled up and going to a dance, sounds like fun.” Pete said: “Hon, you could show up in a burlap sack and your face covered in ashes and you would still be the most beautiful woman there.” Mary: “You say the nicest things.” Pete: “Well, I do prefer to tell the truth.” Mary: “Aahhh. Mr C, are all your ex-platoon mates as nice as this one?” Me: “Nope, I wanted to break you in slowly, so we started with Pete.” (Said with a smile) “Now, we clean up and dry MY kitchen stuff and put them in boxes. After, Mary will pack up the clothes while I put the kitchen stuff in the car, then I’ll put the luggage in the car. Then I’ll make a couple of sandwiches from the pork tenderloins as a snack for the road. And then we’re off.” And so we did. Heartfelt goodbyes on the driveway, Marine backhugs and backslaps for me & Pete. Pete gave Mary a gentle hug and was so worked up he almost started crying. He said “You brought a ray of sunshine into my dismal life. Thank you. You are welcome here anytime. Please come back soon.” Mary smiled and said “I would love to. I hope to see you soon.”
And off we went. Next stop was Tom, the guy who worked for the solar company that would be giving us pretty much a small industrial sized (and free) solar system. On the drive to the plant, Mary said: “I’d like to talk to you about something, and maybe suggest something, but I don’t want you to get mad at me.” Me: “I don’t think I have ever yelled at you, and the single time I got mad was when I thought you were putting yourself in a bad situation, and doing something possibly dangerous. Thank goodness you listened to me and dropped it—you saw how it turned out for the other girls. You should always feel free to talk to me about anything, ask me anything, or suggest anything. The worst that could happen is that I might reply ’no comment’. You should know that by now.” Mary: “OK. Point taken. Um, it seems to me that Pete is a bit lonely. (I said it was quite possible) He seems to be all by himself without many friends. Did Dusty ever do a dustoff for Pete and his squad? (I said, yes, several times.) And Pete was good at his job? (I said yes.) At the moment, Dusty is far away on vacation, so all of her bodyguards have gone home. I was thinking … well, when Dusty gets back, why doesn’t Pete rotate in as one of the protection detail? I think he’d be a bit happier, he would love to see Dusty again, and you said he was good. What do you think?” Me: “I think that you spend too much time worrying that you don’t have good ideas ALL THE TIME. That is a great idea—I should have thought of it. I’m going to pull over and let you drive for awhile so I can call Pete.
We switched, I called Pete. “Pete, I don’t know what you did, or what you said, but Mary misses you already.” (Snort of disbelief from Pete). No, I am serious, she just came up with a plan to get you occasionally up to the college so she can see you more often. (What !??!) Yeah. Rotate in for 5 days or 10, or two weeks, then rotate home. Then rotate back in again later, and then out again, until you get tired of it or the threat is past. (What !??!) You are starting to repeat yourself, old man. Let me describe the job. Do you remember Dusty, the helo pilot? Well, she just had a nasty breakup with her ex-girlfriend. The relationship was so bad that she left a breakup note instead of doing it in person, telling her that she was leaving the state to get away from her. She was hiding out at the sorority last week, then she left on Xmas vacation. While at the sorority, I brought in bodyguards, ex-Marines, to keep her safe, just in case her ex found out where she was. They have all gone home. The reason that I wanted guards is because her ex is a piece of work—real mean with a vicious temper and her business is training urban self-defense and she is pretty good at it. Mary wants YOU to be one of the Marines that rotate in and out to guard Dusty. She wants YOU to be the the sorority-house guard. Unfortunately you might have to spend a lot of time at the sorority. You’d unfortunately have to put up with all her beautiful sisters, but on the plus side you’d get to eat more of my food. What do you think?”
Pete: “What day do I report for duty? I’ll start packing now.” Me: “Do you think you are still in shape?” (A bit of quiet on the other end) “Don’t sweat it. Start simple stretching and WALKING exercises for now, NO running at all, do NOT overdo it because a guard with cramps and pulled muscles is no good to her. Besides, you’ll be the ‘house guard’. When you report, we’ll start doing low-level exercises together. I admit I have slacked off a bit myself, it will be nice to have an exercise partner. There’s a simple gym with a few machines at the sorority. Question: Do you have a conceal carry permit or a PI license or a bodyguard license? (No to all) Do you own a pistol? (Hell no) In order to guard Dusty, Mary, and the house, would you be willing to get a permit and a pistol and train back up? (Fucking HELL yes!). Have you trained up on either the Glock 17 or 19? Good. I’ll check you out up here. A carry permit won’t be needed if you don’t leave the house. Use your phone to take high quality, in-focus pictures of your Marine ID, your driver’s license, and get somebody to take a good series of phone pictures of you, all cleaned up, in a polo shirt or a dress shirt, no tie. They should be head shots similar to what is on a drivers license, but enough to show the collar of the dress shirt. Send me the pics of ID and DL today if possible. I can get started on the carry permit once I get them. Head shots later. And you are going to need decent clothes. I’m NOT saying “going to cocktail parties” clothes, just clean T-shirts, polo shirts, some dress shirts and dress slacks, and a nice (outdoor) evening jacket to keep warm outside. I actually buy mine at Goodwill. I am shocked at what great clothing they sometimes have. Please don’t bring anything with holes, or ripped. You will be representing the USMC, stand tall, look proud. Talk to you soon, see you in a few weeks, I hope.” I said to Mary: “Well you certainly made his year. He wanted to show up tomorrow.” Mary laughed: “It will be nice having him around.”
So we show up at the solar panel factory, Tom comes out with two hardhats, brings us up to an office with a full-length window overlooking the floor. He explains the process, etc. We go over details again. A Whistle blows, and Tom says “that’s end of shift” and to Mary “Would you like to meet a few of the guys that are going to be advising you ladies on the install?” Mary: “sure”. Me: (with a wicked smile): “Mary, why don’t you slip off your bra, I can carry it in my backpack.” Mary starts laughing and does that magic thing girls can do; she reaches behind her, unsnaps the bra, then reaches in an armhole and pulls the bra out. She puts it in my backpack. Tom is grinning. “The crew is going to love this.” He reaches for a microphone, flips a switch and says, for those of you volunteering to be advisers for the install at the sorority in a few months, we have a visitor from the sorority here and we’ll be down on the floor in a minute or so.” Tom is still laughing. “Let’s go!” And we walk down to the floor.
Every male ending their shift is waiting. Mary decides to play it up a bit. “We are so looking forward to have solar panels at the sorority house—AMERICAN MADE solar panels. You guys are helping to save the planet, little by little, by reducing pollution created by electric plants, but also enabling adoption of EV vehicles, which can be charged at home or at businesses that put up a “solar car park” like the sorority is going to do. We are very happy to be a testbed for these types of installations YAY! (with a few little claps and little bounces up and down a little bit). None of the floor crew were looking at the face anymore. Tom was biting him lip and had covered his mouth, trying not to laugh. “I can’t wait to see you guys at the house advising me and my sisters on how to do a proper panel install. And also, we’re getting backup batteries for the house, but I don’t know if it will all be installed at the same time, so somebody might have to come back. Thank you soooo much for your hard work, you should be proud of yourselves.”
Me: “Tom, we have to go over install specs and talk about the possible framing that could be done before your guys show up. Remember, it’s going to be a free-standing “solar roof” about 8 feet off the ground, not a roof install, and we will have to build the frame to hold the panels. Let’s talk in your office.” Tom managed to hold it in until we got into his office, and the door closed, and then he just completely lost it. He was holding his sides, he was laughing so hard. He said (in between gasps): “That story is going to float around this factory for YEARS, in one form or another. Oh My God, you made not just their day, but their month.” I grinned and said “Mary has a way of doing that.”
I continued: “But I was serious about planning the, well, we ARE calling it ’the car port’ because it is going to be tall enough and deep enough to park cars and trucks underneath. This really is a test bed installation for your company. You can sell this to schools or businesses, or police stations, with an emergency battery backup system. I was thinking ‘very permanent’, with 4- or 6- inch aluminum posts (rust free, they aren’t carrying THAT much weight) with an aluminum framework to bolt the panels into, that will then be attached to the frame.
Could I leave with an installers manual? Or could you mail one to the sorority? It will give the girls a head start.” (Tom gave me ’that look’.) “Tom, that whole ‘bimbo’ thing was a performance. The ladies have already helped me install a new mains panel, ground the mains by installing ground rods, rewire a big outbuilding from knob-and-tube wiring to Romex, and rewire the kitchen. They are far from idiots. I need the exact size of the panels, exactly how far from ALL the edges each bolt hole is, the diameter of the hole, and distance between holes. I was hoping to design a ‘quick remove’ frame for the panels with so that all the frames, with their panels, could be removed in an hour or two and temporarily stored inside if a category 3 or above storm is predicted. Anyhow, enough business talk for now, let’s head over to your house.”
We went to Tom’s house, stopping at the grocery store on the way there. He also lived alone, and had also given us a far-away bedroom. We ate dinner talked, went to bed, I tried to keep Mary quiet (with a little success, surprisingly), and we slept. Next day, long drive to Charleston. We arrived exhausted. Checked in with my buddy in Charleston, paid for dinner at a seafood restaurant (Charleston has fantastic seafood shacks/bars), and we just plain crashed when we got back to Bob’s. We spent the next day hitting all the touristy high points of Charleston, such as Rainbow Row, Four Sumter, Waterfront Park, visited some plantations, etc. , not really spending enough time at any of the places, because we wanted as many places as possible to talk about when we got back. We took a flight to the Florida Keys late next morning.
The Florida Keys was part of my strategy to (1) explain why we were gone so long, and (2) why we had such great tans. So we flew to Miami, I rented a car, and we drove to through the keys. I had Mary take her first SCUBA lessons and first 4 dives in the keys in a super accelerated course. (I had given her ‘unofficial’ lessons at college, so she was prepped—the instructor was shocked at how quickly she sped though the class. When I suggested that he just give the tests and skip the instruction part he was not going to go for it. So I said: “How about this: why doesn’t she take ALL the tests and then after you have evaluated the tests, you decide what hands-on practice you need to do for her.” She aced every test, he had never seen that before. Then I suggested that SHE tell him what she knew about SCUBA safety including the things NOT to do and the things that one SHOULD do. Then, she can demonstrate her skills in 5 feet of water, on her knees. She can just stand up if there’s a problem, and it’s shallow enough that embolism isn’t a problem. Then she can demonstrate her skills at the deep end, and if you are satisfied, her first two open water dives, and then the next two tomorrow morning.” She qualified in about 18 hours, start to finish. The instructor was astounded. My parting quip (with a smile): “She’s even more talented in the bedroom than the ocean”. We only spent 4 days in the keys. Enough time to see enough and visit enough to make people think we had spent longer time there. And honestly, a lot of the keys aren’t really that interesting. We did go SCUBA diving on every island where we slept. And paid to have pictures of Mary with dolphins, tortoises, tropical fish, coral in the background, etc.
I turned the rental car in at Key West and rented a small plane to fly us to the US Virgin Islands. Mary started to get pissed. “You are spending way too much money! Stop it! I am getting embarrassed! Stop it!” Me: “May I explain?” (angry nod yes) “This is actually saving us not only time, but money. It is CHEAPER to do it this way. (1) We could drive back up to Miami and lose a day of travel, or (2) we could fly up to Miami, change planes and fly to the Virgin Islands. BUT Key West -Miami is really expensive, and Miami—the Virgin Islands is also expensive. OR (3) We jump in a small plane here, flown by an ex-Marine, that he is delivering to the owner, on Guadeloupe. He has to fly RIGHT OVER the Virgin Islands to get there. And if he stops for gas along the way, why not the Virgin Islands? I’m just slipping him $200 for us to ‘hitchhike’ to the Virgin Islands. It would cost us at least $1500 each to fly commercial”. Mary: (Still in a grumpy voice): “Do you personally know every damn ex-marine on the planet?” Me: “No, not at all. But when you can help out a brother with no skin off your nose, and make $200 on top of it, well … things generally go well.” Now, I sort of under-emphasized the “small plane” bit. It was a Pilatus PC-12. True, in THAT plane’s configurationit only seats 6 passengers, but it is a high end aircraft, basically one step down from a personal jet. Inside, it looked like a personal jet. The PC-12 is a pressurized, single-engined, turboprop. Cruise (economy) speed of about 330 mph, and can fly up to 30,000 feet. Most “small aircraft” fly between 90-140 mph, at 10,000 feet. We could fly over or around the tropical squalls.
We flew out (I got an angry look from Mary after she got in and saw the luxurious inside. I whispered “$200” in her ear.) and landed in the Virgin Islands in about 3 hours. She didn’t notice, because she was looking out the window often, but during the flight I snapped quite a few pictures of her in the plane, from different angles. When we landed, the Chief of Police of St. Thomas was waiting for us. “Passports, please.” We handed them over, compared the photos to us, he stamped them, and gave them back. Me: “Not that I am not flattered, but I really didn’t expect you to be greeting us.” Chief: “You didn’t know? Well, when the head of your state police calls me and asks me to make sure there are no problems upon arrival, AND the governor of you state calls the governor of the Virgin Islands, things tend to slide along smoothly. But since you asked, why the calls?” Me: “I honestly didn’t know about this. For the state police chief, well I did him a favor a long time ago.” Mary mutters (a LOUD mutter) “yeah, I’d call saving his life a favor.” I continue: “As for the governor, I would have to guess because I sometimes train state troopers and his security detail in handguns. Not just the “put holes in the targets” part, but tactics, remembering that bullets go through and sometimes miss so don’t have tunnel vision and make sure the backfield is clear of innocents—especially moms and children. That sort of stuff. The whole shebang.”
He looked intrigued and asked if I might have some free time to speak to some of his men. I smiled and said “Do I look like a total idiot?” (He was nonplused, really didn’t know how to take that.) “Listen, this isn’t my daughter or niece, this is the woman who has graciously allowed me to spend her vacation with her. You are suggesting that I spend a few hours with strangers and come home smelling like gunpowder, instead of spending those hours with her, doing whatever she fancies?” The Chief started laughing. “Yes, I can see your point.” Mary: “Oh come on, you haven’t shot a pistol in weeks, and I know that you miss it. Go. I’ll find something to do to relax.” Me: “You think I want to be anywhere else but at your side?” I said, to the chief “Here, I’ll give you a few of my cards in case you want to contact me after vacation. And on ONE card, I will write my international mobile number. That card is for YOU. And could I get a card from you, so I can contact you if needed? At the moment, our itinerary is completely up in the air, no times or dates nailed down. And can you tell me where the car rental area is?”
Chief: “actually, this unmarked jeep is at your disposal while you are here, after you drop me off at the main terminal. Four-wheel drive, but open top as you can see. It often rains, so it is recommended to have a waterproof bag with several changes of shorts and shirts in it.”
I was going to climb in the jeep, but I turn back to the Chief. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything on the island related to cats, do you?” Chief: “Oh, yes! A local matriarch left half her fortune to found a cat rescue, adoption, and research center, with free veterinary services for the cats of the island. And there is an attached museum full of paintings, sketches, watercolors, and charcoal drawings of cats—some by well known artists.”
Me, to Mary: It sounds like a compromise is in order. You go play with cats, and tour the museum and DO NOT adopt a cat. It would be cruel since we are going be island hopping for a couple more weeks, and the cat would be happier in the luxury hotel where it currently lives. I go and shoot holes in things. Sound fair to you?” (I got a resounding YES).
Me, to the Chief: ‘If you can find an escort for her, preferably one that is armed, I could be persuaded to work with some of your officers for a few hours. Call me when you have something to propose. Does that work for you? Oh, and since not everyone can be there, you might want to set up a video camera and make a recording for everyone who couldn’t make it.” (This made me realize that I should make a series of videos aimed at professional ‘guardians’—police officers, protective details, sherifs, PIs, etc. Not that I needed the money, but why not make something useful AND make money off of it? Damn, I could also write a computer program for training and practicing in-the-field tactics for different situations. Hmmm. Deal with it when you get bak home.)
So I dropped the chief off at the main terminal, and headed up the mountain. I said: “We’re going to visit a family I know here.” Mary (with a smile): “Let me guess somebody you know from the Marines.” Me: “Got it in one”. So I figure out where to go, with a few mis-turns here and there, and drive up to a garishly painted house—each wall a different color. I could see one bright red, one canary yellow, and one Kelly green. The window casings (outside frames) were white. I said “Whoa.” Mary: “You’ve never been here before?” Well, yes, but they decided to repaint, I guess.” A kid ran out and up to the car and said “you got any candy mister?” I answered “I have to ask your mom if it is OK first.” He looked disappointed and said “She will say no.” I said “open your mouth wide, pull back your lips, and show me your teeth.” (He did.) “They look to be in good shape to me—do you brush your teeth every day?” (He nodded, with a hopeful smile) “I still have to ask permission from your mom.” (No more smile) “Is your mama home?” (No, but Meme is.) “OK, why don’t you go get Meme. Tell her that there’s a guy parking in your front yard.” He heads into the house, and I bend down as if I am looking for something on the floor—my face can’t be seen.
So out runs Meme yelling “HEY, this be private property. You tourists think you can do anything. We love having you here, but you are parked on my lawn—move da car. And what are you doing here anyway?” I sit up and say “Meme, you didn’t used to talk to me like that. Maybe I came to the wrong place.” (with a huge smile on my face.) Meme squeals, runs over to the drivers side and throws herself on top of me. Now, Meme is the mother of one of my former platoon mates, and she is BIG. I mean 250 lbs big and she barely passes 5 foot 7. She is wailing and crying and saying “You come back. You FINALLY come back. God has answered my prayers.” Then she starts yelling at the house “Everybody out here NOW. Every body OUT! NOW!” And a passel of kids and a few women come on out, confused. Meme says: “This be CAPPY. He saved your father’s life (pointing at two kids), and your uncle Mike’s life (pointing at four others) when he was in the Marines. Mike got shot in the leg, and was bleeding bad. Cappy ran out and dragged him behind wall and sewed up his leg while machine gun fire all around. He only concern with Mikey and his leg. Then he carry Mikey two miles to the hospital on his own back. Mickey only come back because of this man.” By this time, she was crying.
I ask “So where is Mike at the moment?” Meme: “He at work. He do sailing cruises for tourist. Me, I call office and leave message that he come right home after work is done—straight home—tonight no beer with frien’. I say I have special surprise for him, make him very happy. You stay for dinner, yes?” (Hopeful look on her face.) Me: “Meme, I haven’t gotten stupid as I got older. You are really asking me if I would turn down a meal from the best cook on the island? I haven’t become crazy!” Meme laughed. But there is a condition. Can you leave the house for an hour or 90 minutes? (Meme ‘Of course”) The market is still open? (Another yes from Meme) “The condition is that you, me and my friend go to the market and you show us how it is done. I want you to make a FEAST. Anything you want, but I want THE BEST. And since I am the one making these demands—I BUY THE INGREDIENTS. If I don’t pay, I will be so sad, because I won’t be able to stay, due to shame.” Meme gives me a ‘Meme is not happy and I know what you are doing’ look. Then she smiles and laughs and says “Aight” (meaning OK) “I know what you do, but I want to see you tonight. And tomorrow. We clean out a room for you and your friend.”
Me: “Oh Meme we couldn’t impose on you like that, we were going to stay at the Virgin Islands Campgrounds right on the beach.” Meme says: “I already give in to you on one thing. It be your turn now!”. I lean closer, so the kids can’t hear, and say: “Meme, um, my friend can be rather loud at night. I mean in the bedroom.” Meme laughs and says “That be perfect. The goat next-door (and I am talkin ‘bout the owner) makes all kinds of noise at night. But this week his wife be ‘indisposed’. Well, it be time for him to taste his own medicine back at him. You make as much noise as possible! (and she gives a big belly laugh) Now we head to the market.”
So we went to the Market. Mary was amazed at all the sights and smells and sounds. She took lots of pictures of Meme buying, and a video or two of her bartering with vendors, and just the different foods for sale. She had the time of her life, laughing and smiling, and she just loved it. I asked if Mike would be working tomorrow, Meme said no, not for 2 days. I asked if Meme got along with all of her neighbors, and she said “I love all my neighbors, except the goat. So I suggested, “if Mike is going to be at home tomorrow, why don’t we buy a baby pig, and do your famous smothered pit-roast pig for tomorrow? We could invite your neighbors and have a party—there must be something to celebrate.” She loved the idea.
We get back to the house, Mike still isn’t there. So Meme starts preparing the multiple fish dishes she will be cooking, and we watch Meme prepare her cooking rubs and dipping sauces, scaling and cleaning fish and preparing the dough for Johnycake bread. We hear a car arriving, and Meme says “go in back and hide until I call for you”. So Mike walks in and asks what the big surprise is, and why is she making a huge feast. Meme: “Both have
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same answer Mikey, we have special guests tonight. Mary come to the kitchen.” I hear Mike’s wife, Asana say “You keep your eye on her FACE, husband!” And Meme laughs and says “That be good advice, Mikey. And Mary brought a friend, come out friend! “ I walk out and Mike looks shocked and surprised for half a second, then grins and shouts ‘broder, you come visit, it be too long’ as he is running towards me and gives me a bearhug that crushes the air out of me.” He is laughing, I am laughing, Mary is grinning, Meme is laughing, and she say “we gonna have fine time tonight!” And we did. The food was fantastic, the talk over dinner and dessert was heartwarming—it was obvious that this was a family that loved each other. I saw Mary yawn, discretely, a few times. I said to Mike, but loud enough for everyone to hear “Meme told me that if I wanted her to cook dinner I had to make the goat next door jealous. So we have to go to the bedroom now and make lots of noise. It will be a sacrifice for me, but I would do anything to get a meal prepared by Meme.” Everybody cracked up, I stood up and held my hand out to Mary, who was blushing bright red. Meme said “don’t worry girl, it be all natural. Alls here knows where baby come from.”
So we go to bed. I ask Mary: “Are you OK with this?” She smiled and said “I haven’t been able to let go in a while since we have been in hotels since Charleston, and we didn’t have ANY sex in Charleston. I am definitely more than OK with this!” So we strip, and I start my foreplay. I always try to mix it up, definitely not in the same or, and not always the same things, except that she has very sensitive nipples and loves it when I suck on them. This time I slowly finger fucked her while switching between nipples, back and forth, to suck on. I pushed a tiny ‘cum’ and she moaned loudly. Me: “I think somebody wants me to lick her clit.” And I slide down and start slowly licking her engorged clit, and after 30 seconds push a medium-large ‘CUM’ and she screams, so I push a second small-to medium ‘cum’ about 10 seconds later and she screams again, for about 20 seconds. I stop, she begs me not to stop, and I say: “We’ve done doggy, and missionary, and cowgirl, but you love reverse cowgirl, let’s do that now, and I laid on my back and she mounted me in about 3 seconds flat, and started slowly pumping my cock in and out of her pussy. She leaned forward, towards my knees, and put her hands on the bed to support her, and then she just stopped with the ’slow’ and start riding me like a rodeo bronco buster. I didn’t even have to push. She came about 5 times, VERY loudly, before collapsing. I gently pulled out, turned her around so our heads were together, turned her on her side and spooned her, while whispering “You wore me out. I can’t take it anymore. I have to sleep, my love.” And we cuddled until we fell asleep.
Next morning we woke up at the same time, well after dawn (she had truly exhausted me, I needed the rest) and we smiled at one another and kissed gently. I said “I think that was the first time I called you ‘love’—I hope you didn’t mind.” Mary said : “well, my thoughts on the matter is that it’s about fucking time you said it!” And we both laughed. I said “how about some morning delight. I don’t think we pissed off the goat enough last night.” Mary: “That sounds like fun!”. So some quick foreplay (me playing with her tits always gets her ready) and I said “let’s start off the day with some doggie. You know, it just occurred to me now that for a lady who likes cats so much, you really prefer doggie.” Mary laughed and said “too much talk, not enough action”, got on her knees with her face and chest resting on the bed and started swaying her ass back and forth. I didn’t need another invitation. I started slowly, felt her build up, and pushed a small ‘cum’ at her. Loud groan. After that, no pushing necessary. She came 3 more times, very loudly. We got up used the bowl of wash water to clean ourselves up, and walked out to the combo kitchen / living room. The whole family was there, and we received a standing ovation, even from the kids, who were grinning like loons.
I never did teach or shoot with the VI police, and Mary never went to what I called the cat hotel. We had too much fun with Mike’s family and hanging out on beaches. Then suddenly, it was 4 days later, and time to head off to Martinique. I had spoken with the local charters, and got a lead on someone who was ferrying a plane to Martinique and would love a co-pilot, especially one who spoke French. So another free ride. But this time, a NORMAL small plane, seating six (in small seats), flying at about 160 mph, and can only go up to 14,000 or so. About 2 1/2 hours of flight time for a distance about 1/3 the last trip we made. I told Mary that this time I had wrangled a free trip because I would fly co-pilot. I also didn’t spend any money at all on St Thomas, except for raw food. So I could splurge now. I told Mary that I had friends on Martinique, NOT old Marine buddies, but friends from university in France who had moved to Martinique a decade ago.
We flew in, rented a cheap car, and drove to the friends’ house. I started by introducing Mary, and then warned “be careful what you say, she speaks French”. I asked where a nice hotel not far from the beaches could be found, and was told that they wouldn’t hear of it, I was staying with them. I gave my usual excuse that Mary and I tend to make a lot of noise in the evenings, they laughed and said then we could sleep in the pool/guest house. Fun conversations, great dinner (Catherine is a pretty good cook), then to bed. We went a little crazy the first night, three different positions, 6 loud orgasms. Next morning, when we got together for breakfast, André said (with a smile) “you weren’t kidding about the noise, we could hear you from the other side of the house!”. I replied “Hey, do you blame me? Look at her, she’s gorgeous!” And Mary added “and Mr C is an absolutely fantastic lover.” Catherine added (with a smile): “Yes, I remember.” Mary looked surprised and said “Isn’t this a bit awkward then?” Catherine said “No, it was before I met André, the love of my life. In fact, it was Mr C (as you call him) who introduced us. So not awkward at all”. We spent about a week on Martinique, Cath and André showed us all over the island, and Mary and I did some wreck diving off the north coast. . We had a blast.
Then we went to St Lucia, where I had never been before. It’s the island just south of Martinique and not far, so we took a ferry over. It has some nice diving and the people are generally friendly. I had wanted to go to Aruba and Curaçao, where the diving is absolutely fantastic, but we were running out of time and it was a long ways away in the wrong direction, literally just off the coast of Venezuela, 20 miles at a minimum distance. While I was in Martinique, before heading to St Lucia, I had found a pilot who was ferrying a plane from Martinique to Savannah, Georgia and would love a backup pilot to ride along. For Free. I told Mary (because I didn’t want her to get mad when she saw the luxury airplane that we were going to fly in): “this ride is also FREE, because I offered to be the backup pilot. Some rich multimillionaire wants his plane back in the U.S., so we get a free ride.” Mary (suspiciously): “How come you get free rides all the time?” Mary, have I ever lied to you?” Mary: “Not that I KNOW of, but it’s what you don’t say that worries me.” Me (chuckling): “Well you do have a point there. So, I am (obviously) a certified private pilot. I am also certified as what is called “Commercial Pilot”, which means that I can be paid to fly a plane somewhere, say work for FedEx, or be an air taxi to fly people between small cities, or businessmen flying directly to a meeting in smaller cities with private airfields (I have done all of that, BTW). For a while, I used to do like these guys that we ‘hitchhike’ with : ferry airplanes for the owners. I have ratings and certifications for multiple types: prop and turboprop, single and dual engine, and time flying (experience with) dozens of different specific models of planes. Generally, when someone sees my certifications and flight log (I have over 2500 hours of air time) they really want me as at least a co-pilot. So that’s why we have been getting free rides. Also, BTW, something I haven’t mentioned. While nosing around trying to find flights that fit our schedule, I have been leaving my business card at lots of places. There are a LOT of places that you’d probably like to come back to, and lots of places you haven’t seen. So, sneaky me, I have planted seeds for any future trips. (Now with a grin) Spoiler alert. Please don’t make any plans for spring vacation—I think we should come back down here for 2 weeks in April and do more visiting.“
After four days in St Lucia, we took the ferry back to Martinique for one last night and an early departure for Savannah in the plane I was ‘co-piloting’. This was another luxury plane, even better than the Pilatus: a Piaggio P.180 Avanti. What a sweet, sweet plane to pilot, or just to travel in. I just love them. If I had $7-8M to spend, I’d buy me a new one of these. Or do a co-owners agreement with 8 or 12 other people and share flying time and operations cost. I could actually do that, because used Avantis are surprisingly inexpensive, compared to new, say $2M-$3M for a 10-year-old plane with fairly low airtime on the airframe (under 4000 hours). The Piaggio Avanti is a ‘pusher’—the engines are at the rear instead of the front or under the wings, so a LOT less noise. Double turboprop engines. The top speed is about 450 mph, ‘eco cruise’ is about 360 mph, top altitude is around 40,000 feet. We had refueling stops in Puerto Rico and Miami, so we split the difference and cruised at 400 mph. And this particular plane had every extra known to man. The interior was custom.
I had a nice chat with the pilot the whole trip, we got along well. I even took over as pilot several times, including one take-off and one landing. When we got to Savannah, I gave the pilot a pile of my cards, and said “talk me up to people that might want an experienced pilot, retired marine. I don’t live anywhere near here, I live in Virginia, not too far from Charlottesville. I am not always available, but I AM pretty damn good. And I have flown over 20 different models of light aircraft, and the P-12 and Avanti. I am not looking for a full time job. If you ever need a bailout, call me.” I rented a one-way car to Charleston, called my friend there and said that we’d probably arrive around 4 or 5PM, and would be absolutely beat. I turned the car in the next morning ($55 for two people from Savannah to Charleston, not a bad price), loaded up the Toyota Corolla, and did an all-day trip back to the sorority house. We got there in the evening 4 days before classes were scheduled to start, so most of the sisters were still gone. I immediately dropped our luggage off in our rooms, grabbed my toolbox, and told Mary: “Come with me, I have something to do.”
I went downstairs and unlocked the ’sex signup box’ to look inside. Mary didn’t say anything but didn’t look too happy. I said “thank god, it’s empty”. Mary looked a little confused. I grabbed the battery operated screwdriver and detached the box from the wall, then took out my hammer, went out to the front porch and destroyed the box—just crushed it. I then pried the lid off and put it inside the crushed box, went back into the house and leaned the broken box against the wall below where it used to hang. “I think this will get the message across. I said “I will not be accepting any new students.” Mary looked surprised, but then very happy. “Don’t get too happy I have already two ‘study session classes’ scheduled. I don’t break my word. But no more new signups will be accepted. And I am going to streamline these classes. I don’t know if you have heard, but we are doing group sessions of four to start on the basic subjects : foreplay, erogenous zones, blowjobs. We’ll finish that in a week or so. Well, blowjobs will continue into the next portion: fucking. I’m pairing up during the next part (fucking) so we should get through that faster as well, at least twice as fast, maybe even faster because I am only going to do each position 2 or 3 times, so they can figure out what they like best and that’s it. Since they are in pairs, I get to drop my advice and suggestions for training their men in a kind, gentle way so that the girls will have a good chance of getting what they want. Oh, and of course my ‘magic phrases’. I’m skipping anal entirely. So, I am hoping that in about 8 weeks my nightmare will be over. I am NOT going to bee monogamous, just no longer the sorority free use cock. I will continue what I call ’the chase’, but it will most likely be completely off campus. Please realize that I am not going to turn down my sisters for occasional sex, especially when they are in the doldrums, unless they ask too often, but it isn’t going to be 3 or 4 hours of sex every day.” Then, I said with a smile: “Unless it’s you, of course. I realized these past few weeks that I have been the happiest than I have been for years. I absolutely love being around you.” She had been silently (happily) crying, tears running down her face, but she ‘whooped’, and jumped into my arms, and kissed me. I said, I am exhausted, let’s go to bed, snuggle and sleep.
Vacation was over. Time to get back to work.
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