Helicopter Soft Landing

Two weeks after my divorce from Mindy was final I started on my trip from Minneapolis to the American West. I needed to get away. In my mind I had gone through all of the scenarios and emotions of revenge, reconciliation, separation, unsolicited advice, depression, anger, hate, regret...you name it. Now it was time to clear my head.

Unlike most 45 year olds who have been married 23 years and have three adult or near-adult children, I at least had the advantage of no money problems. I had worked hard building a company that made solar cells by an innovative process that I co-invented, and when I first found out about my wife's cheating I quickly accepted the most desirable of the several open offers to sell that I had received over the last two years. The offer that I had accepted was the best for my employees and the second best for me, the monetary difference between it and the best offer inconsequential. You can only spend so much money in your lifetime.

Particularly rewarding to me was the unique circumstances that allowed me to avoid sharing any of the proceeds from the sale with my ex-wife, although she got half of everything else we owned, enough to leave her comfortable even if not filthy rich like me. Before I could get a loan to start my solar company seventeen years ago the underwriter had insisted that my wife sign away all of her rights since the underwriter could not take the chance of a change in management. For that assignment Mindy had been paid $200,000 that she put into an account that I signed away all of my rights to. She was very happy with the money at the time because she had no faith that my business would succeed; she's not so happy now (ha, ha).

My 21 and 19 year old sons, one a college graduate the other a sophomore, had accepted my decision when the facts became known. My 17 year old brilliant (now a freshman at Stanford with her tuition prepaid) but highly emotional daughter was pissed that I wouldn't reconcile. She told me that my wife, her Mom, had strayed because "she has a bad self-image and no longer felt attractive so she was just trying to have some positive reinforcement; and now she's over it and sorry," like that was a magic wand that would make everything go away. It didn't help me one iota.

There may have been something to the low self-esteem argument, however, because my ex Mindy felt necessary to compare herself to me and to several other women in our social circle. In our 23 years of marriage my ex had put on about 20 pounds and was sure that her tits were sagging and that her ass was flabby. Meanwhile I weighed only three pounds more than I did when I played football at a Division III school at 225 pounds, so that comparison bugged her somewhat. However, I do believe that it was comparing herself to two of our mutual female friends that was the most disturbing.

Kathy and Nicole, two of our female friends who were a year or two older than Mindy is, looked like Lululemon models (i. e. ultra fit). Both were intelligent and personable too. Kathy had a happy marriage however Nicole had caught her stupid husband cheating two years ago and divorced his ass so fast he thought that a train hit him.

While I never said anything negative about Mindy's looks - in fact I almost daily told her that she was beautiful and never unfavorably compared her to any other women - she seemed resentful that I went out of my way to be nice to Nicole when she was going through her divorce and helped her out. Despite the disastrous way Nicole's marriage had ended because of her husband's affair apparently Mindy thought that having her own affair was the solution to her malaise.

**************

After a few stops at various national parks and monuments, typically only staying over two or three nights, I pulled my Tesla Model X into Hualopai Lodge in Peach Springs, Arizona, adjacent to the Grand Canyon. After two fun days there I decided to take a helicopter ride into and around the Canyon. I met the pilot and four other guests from Haulopai at the copter.

The pilot Rex was about 50 and very experienced; ex-military. Two of the guests were a small Vietnamese couple. The other two passengers were women who spoke with a British accent. Often to the embarrassment of women passengers all customers have to be weighed to balance the aircraft. This is done out of sight of the other passengers and is simply used by the pilot to properly balance the load.

The first of the presumably British women looked like she was about five feet eight inches tall and 125 pounds - not that I'm a very good judge of women's weight - and maybe 40 years old. The second British woman was about five feet eleven and likely 150 pounds, and very muscular, and I estimated 30-35 years old.

The pilot put the Vietnamese couple and the second British woman on one side, and me and the first British woman on the other, and since the helicopter normally accommodates six passengers and since my side was a little lighter than the other the pilot allowed - in fact even encouraged - me to bring along my backpack (which he also weighed) rather than check it at the office.

The first British woman introduced herself as Brie Taylor, the second as Margaret Evans, and the Vietnamese couple as Chau (woman) and Due Nguyen. I, of course, introduced myself as Brent Rossin, because that's my name.

Most of the flight we had headphones on listening to the pilot's narration of what we were seeing but before takeoff and at points where we didn't have headphones on everyone seemed very friendly.

There were two odd things about the British women, however, which I only noticed after about half an hour into the flight. Brie's face looked funny; it wasn't because she wasn't decent looking, it was because there was just something off about it. I was never a thespian but as a layman my guess would be some sort of stage makeup and/or prosthetics. As far as Margaret was concerned she seemed to have an uncomfortable top on and unless I knew better a bulge near her left shoulder that looked like a small handgun - not unusual per se in Arizona, but strange for a British tourist.

The scenery was breathtaking so I didn't dwell on the idiosyncrasies of my British companions. We all were enthralled by the scenery and having a great time until we heard some unpleasant "ca-chung, ca-chung" sounds. If I didn't know better I'd have thought that the engine blew out.

Well apparently I didn't know better.

Rex got on the intercom shortly after the last "ca-chung." In a very calm voice he had first frightening and then reassuring words.

"You probably heard those sounds and they're not good. My instruments and observation are both telling me that the engine has died," he started out. "That's not as bad as it sounds, however. That does not in any way doom us."

Rex then sounded like a flight instructor when he continued. He assured us that helicopters have a built-in mechanical control called the collective pitch lever that allows them to descend slowly and land relatively softly if the engine dies. He said that by manipulating the collective pitch lever he could change the pitch of the chopper's blades to find an ideal angle that keeps the blades spinning, generating enough lift to touch down softly, a maneuver he called "autorotation."

Obviously we had to take his word for it. It didn't mean that we weren't scared. In fact I held Brie's hand and Chau held Margaret and Due's hands.

When I looked out the window I didn't see a good place to land at the bottom of the Canyon. Apparently Rex was thinking the same thing because I heard soft curse words coming into my headphones. We did seem to be gliding, or whatever a helicopter does, fairly slowly but when we hit my and Brie's side of the copter hit after, and much softer, than the other side.

While Brie and I were shaken, we were not seriously hurt. However, it looked like Margaret and Due had hit their heads and were moaning and if not delirious close to it. Chau was really shaken but apparently her head hit something soft, and she appeared to be in better shape than Margaret and Due.

Even after hitting the copter skidded a while, but then came to rest still upright, but at an angle, my and Brie's side above the other side.

Rex quickly came out of the pilot's seat to inspect the human damage - he was more concerned by that than the copter damage. Brie exited, and then I did, taking Chau with me. Both Rex and I knew that we needed to be careful with Margaret and Due, Rex from his military experience and because of his civilian pilot training, and me because at one point in time I had an EMT certification for the wilderness, and although I wasn't "current" I still remembered more than I had forgotten.

By cannibalizing some of the copter's seats, and using two emergency blankets at the back of the chopper, we were able to lay out on the ground and stabilize both Margaret and Due. Rex and I agreed that they had concussions, and we imparted this information to both Brie and Chau, who were very concerned.

Fortunately the radio still worked, but night was falling fairly quickly. When Rex got off the radio he told Brie, Chau and me "I've got the proverbial good news and bad news. The good news is that where we landed is less than a kilometer from the end of Diamond Creek. The bad news is that it's too dangerous for anyone to come get us before first light tomorrow morning."

We were a little confused by this until he explained that Diamond Creek was actually a 4x4 road.

It was September and the high for the day at the rim had been 76 degrees Fahrenheit - which I had to convert to Celsius for Brie and Chau - with the expected low 44. On the floor of the Canyon where we were it would likely be 8 to 10 degrees warmer. Still 52 degrees during the night would be no picnic.

It was very fortunate that Rex had allowed/encouraged me to bring my backpack. In it I had a thick T-shirt that was more like a coat for little Chau and a heavy sweatshirt that even though way too big for her would keep Brie warm. Fortunately everyone was wearing long pants. I also had several bottles of water, nuts, jerky, pumpkin seeds, raisins, and dried mangos.

We first made sure that Margaret and Due - both of whom were conscious but hurting, not just their heads but bruises on their bodies - had enough water and food. Then I made sure that Rex, Brie and Chau had enough. "Don't starve yourself," Brie cackled as she ate a handful of nuts, "it's your food."

"I have plenty of fat to live off," I chuckled, although that actually wasn't true but I wanted to make sure that everyone else had enough first. By the end of "dinner" all of the food, and all the water - except for a one liter bottle that Rex had in the cabin - were consumed, but everyone was reasonably happy. I got a handful of pumpkin seeds and two dried mangos, which obviously didn't fill me up, but took the edge off.

When night fell, Rex slept in the pilot's compartment, little Chau slept next to Due on the cushions under the same blanket, Brie and I snuggled in the remaining (relatively large) seat in the passenger's cabin that hadn't been cannibalized, and Margaret said that she was warm enough with the blanket on her.

The first, of several, times that I went to check on Margaret - and Due and Chau - during the night and give them sips of water I removed a Browning 1911-380 handgun and holster from Margaret's shoulder - with her knowledge and acquiescence - and put them in my backpack.

During the night snuggling against Brie for mutual warmth I confirmed that Brie definitely had some facial prosthetics, and noticed that she was a very well-endowed yet sleek woman.

*************

Two Jeeps arrived on Diamond Creek about an hour after sunrise the next morning. The drivers each carried a stretcher to our location about half a kilometer from the end of the road. One of the drivers and me carried Margaret in one stretcher while Rex and the other driver carried Due. Brie carried my backpack and she and Chau carried anything else that Rex needed from the copter.

Obviously our rescuers hadn't planned ahead too well. With the stretchers in them the Jeeps could carry only one passenger each so Rex went with the Jeep carrying Margaret and Chau with the Jeep carrying Due. The drivers called for another vehicle for Brie and me and left us with a liter of water, and a bag of trail mix, each.

Brie and I found a place in the shade since the sun was bright and the Canyon floor had already warmed up to the mid-sixties, and we chatted while we waited for our rescue vehicle.

After about a half hour I was sure of what I was observing so I said "Elizabeth, you should take the makeup and prosthesis off of your face. With your sunglasses and my panama hat in my backpack on no one here will recognize you. Maybe in L. A. they would, but not at the Grand Canyon."

Brie/Elizabeth had a stern look on her face for a few seconds, and then smiled. "How did you recognize me?"

"Well, maybe a lot of people wouldn't have. But to be honest with you, I'm one of probably millions of men who think that you're the hottest 50 something in the world, so I know what you look like - and after studying you I concluded that you had to be Elizabeth Hurley," I sincerely replied.

"So are you going to get rich exposing me to the paparazzi?" she chuckled.

"Hardly," I laughed, "for two reasons. The first is that I'm already rich; the second is because I'm going to act as your bodyguard until Margaret - if that is her name - is back on her feet."

"How did you know that Margaret - and yes that is her name - is my bodyguard?"

"Because she looks as strong as any man, and was carrying a Browning 1911-380 handgun a perfect choice for a combination of concealment and accuracy," I smiled.

"She was the first woman to apply to the SAS when it was opened up to women in 2018," Elizabeth proudly said, "and but for a knee injury would have qualified. She was also the top female MMA fighter in Brittan in the 145 pound class, although she had to lose 8-10 pounds to make weight."

"I'll be careful not to piss her off," I said, half-joking, half-serious. "So what brings you to the Grand Canyon?"

"I'm ultimately going to end up in LA for some contract negotiations, but I had never roughed it in the American West and always wanted to so I took this opportunity. I felt it necessary to have an inconspicuous bodyguard, however."

"Wise choice," I countered.

"So what's your story; why are you travelling alone?"

In the 80+ minutes that it took for our rescue SUV to arrive we exchanged enough information about each other for both of us to be comfortable with the other. I was able to refrain from making any comments about her obvious beauty and sexiness - except for my first comment - which I think that she appreciated.

We talked more on the ride back to the Lodge. After we got back we found out what hospital Margaret was at, and then I offered Elizabeth a ride in my Tesla to the hospital so that we both could see her. After we showered (separately of course, in our own rooms) and changed clothes we drove to the hospital.

Margaret seemed very happy to see us when we entered her dark room (dark necessary for those with concussions). She apparently was not the least bit surprised that I had recognized Elizabeth. "Blokes have radar for someone as hot as she is," Margaret chuckled, getting a playful punch in the arm from Elizabeth. Although I had recognized Elizabeth I promised both of them to still call her Brie when I saw her to keep up the ruse.

At one point I offered to leave the room and wait in the lobby if they had something confidential to discuss but neither would hear of it.

After some good laughs and some serious discussion Margaret asked about her weapon.

"Don't worry - it's in the safe in my room and as soon as your head clears I'll return it. I have a caution though; while there obviously is no problem carrying a gun in Arizona, California has very strict handgun laws, and you may run into trouble there."

"That's one advantage of travelling with someone famous," Margaret grinned. "I'm not exactly sure how she did it, but she got me a temporary ATF credential so I can carry a gun anywhere in the US during our trip; look in my fanny pack if you don't believe me."

I did look; I chuckled when I saw the credential; she was absolutely right.

After we had been in Margaret's room about an hour we could see her starting to zone out, and a nurse chased us out. We asked her doctor how long she would be there. "Probably two more nights, and then she has to be careful for another two nights, then she should be able to function pretty normally," she said.

We stopped by to see Due and Chau for a few minutes before we returned to the lodge.

While Margaret was recovering I carried my own handgun - normally hidden in a special compartment in my Tesla - in order to really be able to be her bodyguard if necessary. Although we saw Margaret the two additional days she was in the hospital and drove her back to the Lodge when she was released, Elizabeth and I spent most of our time going on excursions, rafting, hiking, riding mules, and visiting sites.

Elizabeth had heard about Cedar Breaks National Park and wanted to go there even though it would require that we stay overnight. Since Margaret had to take it easy and couldn't go with us she insisted that we go ahead.

Of course a normal man could not be in the presence of a goddess like Elizabeth Hurley and not be sexually attracted to her. Some of the hardest (in several ways - ha, ha) hours of my life were when we went to the fitness center to work out or to the hot tub to soak and I got a good look at her peerless body. Maybe Elizabeth was surprised that I wore wrap-around mirrored sunglasses most of the time around her - maybe she was used to it.

*****************

Our roughly 250 mile trip to Cedar Breaks ended up being the highlight of my life. After we got our fill of scenery and hiking, we went to find a motel. When we went to the nicest (according to Google) local establishment I asked for two rooms.

"Sorry," the woman at the desk said. "We have only one room left, our bridal suite."

"Oh...OK, thanks, we'll find something else," I said and turned to start to walk out. Elizabeth grabbed my arm to stop me. "We'll take it," she said, then had me sign in as Mr. & Mrs. Rossin.

I was flabbergasted. "When did we get married?" I mumbled as we walked from the check-in desk back to our vehicle to get our overnight bags.

"Since I'm pretending to be someone else on this trip there's no reason I can't be a third person, is there?" she countered. When we got to my Tesla she pushed me up against it and took off her ever-present sunglasses and hat. "Don't you think that you deserve a reward for being so nice to me and Margaret?" she asked before she kissed me on the lips; not just a friendly kiss either. My cock immediately saluted. Elizabeth saw it, brushed her hand over it, and then chuckled "well at least part of you is happy that they had only one room - and the bridal suite to boot."

That night was a real life fantasy. Elizabeth's naked body was even better live than it looked in photographs; in fact better than a female body has a right to be. Despite the fact that she is 54 (and nine years older than I am) 99.9% of 25 year olds would kill to have a body like that. I could have abused her pussy and tits with my tongue, lips, and both hands, forever. However after she had three orgasms she insisted that she ride my cock.

As Elizabeth bounced up and down on me I latched onto the spectacular mammaries on her chest, occasionally briefly bringing a nipple into my mouth. There was no way that I could last since not only was her pussy milking me but the sight itself of her riding me put me over the top. I ejaculated the largest load that I had in at least twenty years into her active cunt.