She directed him to the facilities. While he was in there, the flight attendant took a moment to check out Jim. “Are you one of Mr. Tisdale’s band members?” she asked.
“No,” Jim said. “I’m his paramedic.”
“His paramedic?”
“It’s a long story,” he said.
She smiled at him. “Maybe you’d like to tell it to me sometime?”
“How’s that?” he asked, confused.
“Or any other story of your travels,” she said, a saucy smile on her face. “I have a three-day layover in Los Angeles. Perhaps we could get together during that.”
Jim looked her up and down for a few moments, taking her in. She really was quite attractive. Brunette hair, brown eyes, a feminine, curvy body. A woman who would have been quite out of his league before he was on the payroll of Matt Tisdale. And now she was propositioning him just minutes after meeting him for the first time. “I think I would like that,” he said with a smile of his own.
“Lovely,” she said. “They’re putting us up in the Hilton at the airport. Two to a room. Maybe you have someplace a little more ... oh ... private?”
“Uh ... actually, I’m going to be staying at Matt’s place in Orange County. You see, I gave up my apartment when we went out on tour.”
“Will Mr. Tisdale mind if you have a guest over?” she asked.
“You know, I don’t think he will.”
Matt did not have a problem with this. In fact, he was quite proud of his medic. “The English stewardess, huh? And she just came out and asked for it?”
“That’s how it went down,” Jim told him.
“Out of fuckin’ sight,” he said, impressed. “She’s definitely doable. Hell yeah! Bring her on over. I was going to have a talk with you about how you can’t fuck Kim the first night we’re home, but now I don’t have to.”
“Only the first night?” Jim asked.
“Yeah. I’m sure she’ll want my schlong on that first night, and I’ll want her snatch. But after that, all of LA is open to me. And while this foreign gash we’ve been getting is pretty good—particularly the Ukrainian gash—there’s still a lot to be said for good old, Grade A rated American gash. Am I right?”
“You are right,” Jim had to agree.
They took off on time and headed northwest out over the ocean, taking the great-circle route up over Greenland and northern Canada. Matt and Jim both had two more drinks after reaching cruising altitude and then reclined their chairs and went to sleep. They awoke for a bit just before the aircraft crossed the east coast of Labrador. They ate their dinners—both had seen the movie Airplane and went with the steak dinner instead of the fish—had another few drinks, and then went right back to sleep. They did not wake up again until the plane began to descend into the landing pattern for LAX.
After clearing the customs checkpoint, they met the English stewardess—her name was Holly as it turned out—in front of the terminal. She was now dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a low-cut blouse that showed off an impressive amount of cleavage. She rolled her wheeled travel bag with her. They climbed into the limo that Matt had arranged for and started heading for the western outskirts of San Juan Capistrano. All of them were quite jetlagged, though Holly was probably more used to it. They had left London at 4:10 PM Greenwich Time, flown for more than eleven hours, and it was now 7:45 PM Pacific Time, but their bodies were telling them it was early in the morning, right around sunrise. Fortunately, Matt had a great remedy for this. He poured everyone a healthy shot of Jack Daniels and they put them in their stomachs.
Holly was quite impressed with Matt’s mansion on the beach. She was also quite impressed to meet Mary Ann Cummings, declaring that she had seen every one of her films and owned multiple videotapes from her production company.
“Which is your favorite?” Kim asked her.
“I have to say that To Fill a Mockingbird is the one that gets me the hottest and that I’ve watched the most.”
“Ahhh yes,” Kim said. “People do seem to like the whole brother and sister aspect of that film. What about my production tapes?”
“The Amateur Lesbians series,” Holly said without hesitation. “I own every volume.”
“Interesting,” Kim said with a knowing smile. “The subject interests you?”
“It does,” Holly agreed.
“Ever had a chance to try it yourself?”
“Not yet,” Holly said. “But if the opportunity ever came up...”
“Maybe that will happen,” Kim suggested.
They ate dinner—even though it felt to the recent travelers that they should be eating breakfast—and had a few more drinks. Matt then declared that he needed to get his dick wet and that Holly and Jim should make themselves at home. He led Kim to the bedroom. Jim and Holly soon retired to the guest bedroom and became better acquainted—intimately acquainted you might say—themselves.
Holly stayed the night. The next day, shortly after lunch, Jim and Matt sat in easy chairs and watched enthusiastically as Kim and Holly stripped down and had a lengthy and hot session of lesbian sex on the couch. After about forty-five minutes or so, Matt declared that it was time for the guys to get in on the action as well. He stood and started stripping off his clothes. Jim hesitated for a moment, feeling a little awkward—should they maybe ask permission first? he wondered—but then he got over it. He started pulling off his own clothes.
“All right, you get Kim,” Matt directed. “I’ll start on the stewardess bitch.”
“Uh ... okay,” he said. Kim was currently kneeling on the floor, her face between Holly’s widely spread legs, licking away. Holly was leaning her head back, an expression of bliss on her face, her hands running through Kim’s hair.
“Condoms are in the bowl there,” Matt pointed. “And remember the rule of two guys in the foursome.”
“No touching each other,” Jim recited.
“Except to high five,” Matt amended. “Let’s do this.”
They did it. Matt crawled up on the couch next to Holly. “Here, baby,” he said. “Why don’t you suck on this a little?”
Jim worried that Holly might balk at having an unfamiliar erection shoved in her face, but she did not. She unhesitantly slurped it down and went to work on it, occasionally taking her mouth off to moan when Kim licked a particularly erogenous region. Jim then grabbed a condom out of the bowl and put a helmet on his little soldier. He walked up behind Kim and put his hand on her ass cheek, stroking gently. This, he had learned in his travels with Matt, was the accepted etiquette for asking permission to enter during an event that fell under the definition of an orgy. Kim moaned out an enthusiastic “mmm hmmm” to him and repositioned herself so her butt was sticking up in the air. He got into position and put himself inside of her.
They had a good time for the next two hours or so, using up two condoms apiece. Jim came once while fucking Kim and once while fucking Holly’s ass while Kim licked his balls and Matt fucked Kim’s ass. It was a good time, and it is mentioned here because it was the only good time that Matt managed to have during his tour break. He spent the rest of the time prepping himself to have his own ass fucked by a much bigger dick than his or Jim’s.
Wesley Brimm was the tax attorney that Pauline had set Matt up with. He met the man for the first time in person at the Brackford, Redman, and Jackson offices in Brentwood two days after the impromptu orgy in his mansion. He was a short man of slight build, his features prissy and feminine looking, his voice matching his features, but he was reputed to be one of the foremost exports on federal and California taxation laws as they related to people and/or corporations who made more than a million dollars a year. It was he who advised Pauline and Jill on KVA tax issues.
“You are in serious trouble here, Matt,” was his summary of the situation.