Road Trip Pt. 05

I turned to a cluster of some press members and said, "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, it appears you have among you a liar, pervert, and a Peeping Tom in this man. I don't know what he thinks he saw, I guess he thinks that we wronged him in some way. He appears to me to be a reckless journalist, a pervert trying to sneak lewd photos of one of the country's prettiest women in her home by peeking in her windows with camera in hand, and a threat because he's a stalker and he's dangerous - you just heard him threaten us. I suggest you all watch whom you're dealing with. I know that from today on we will." I was friendly enough with them so they didn't feel any animosity from me except about Bart Kenesis' character.

Several people turned to Kenesis, wanting more details and corroboration about my pervert and stalking comments and his reaction to my counter threat. He backed away a step. A few other cameras flashed, this time taking pictures of the photographer. Fortunately, none of the shots caught the two of us together. Kenesis might tell them what he saw that night in Missouri, but I'd damaged his credibility, alluding to the story as his fabrication. Further, he knew it; we had much greater credibility than he did.

I held my breath, but Kenesis glared at me, turned, and stomped away in the opposite direction. Several members of the press yelled after him, "Hey, what gives? What were you two really arguing about? Are you really stalking Crystal - peeking in her windows?"

Alan Roswell took Crystal's arm and led her from the awkward encounter. I followed them down in the elevator and out of the stadium to the tour bus. Tina and Terry were close behind. We were all silent as we walked, and ignored a couple of shouts in our direction of 'Hey, what was all that about?' Fortunately, most of press corps hadn't heard the interchange. I hoped it wouldn't appear on the front page of some tabloid.

Once we were out of sight in the bus, Crystal laid a big kiss on me. "You were magnificent."

Terry agreed; "We've worried about him for weeks, and now you've put a lid on the fallout from our outdoor games."

I shook my head. I said to Terry, "No, that wasn't any kind of 'lid.' That was only the first salvo. We have not heard the end of that man."

* * * * *

Crystal and I motorcycled back to the Four Seasons hotel; the others took a limo. In the suite, Tina gave me a hot kiss and said, "I'll see you in the morning, I still have some calls I have to make to the west coast." She gave Crystal, Terry, and Ellen hot kisses too, and then she left for her own room. We headed to our bedroom; Terry and Ellen went off to theirs.

Crystal and I had a romantic coupling, knowing it would likely be our last for a couple of weeks. As we got naked, Crystal said, "You told me a little about Heather, the nymphomaniac you played with in Oklahoma. Well, I want to hear some Heather stories. I think I have a very strong inclination toward nymphomania, and I want to see if I qualify for that beautiful adjective." I recalled Heather's hot body; the fact we spent most of the previous weekend fucking, and how I enjoyed every minute of our time together.

I started by describing my first impression of Heather, and how she amazed me with her intellect, intelligence, and her intense desire for non-stop sex. As I told Crystal, I started to use my mouth, fingers, and tongue on key body parts. Her body would go limp, and then I'd hit a pleasure spot again and she'd become rigid and pushing into my hand. I gave her a complete description of what would make a nymphomaniac, touching each important qualifying place on her body.

Crystal moaned, "Oh, God, this is wonderful. I ... Yes, I am definitely a nymphomaniac ... I'm your nymphomaniac. I want to fuck ... all the time. You ... Oh, fuck, I'm cumming again." Before she could get the complete thought out, another orgasm wracked her body so consuming that most of her body arched upward from the bed. I glanced at Crystal's face to find her mouth open in a round 'O' of pleasure; I could almost feel her pleasure vicariously. We kept making love and talking about Heather and then the debutantes for another hour.

* * * * *

Monday morning, I woke up with two gorgeous female bodies curled up against me. We were nude. Crystal was on my right, and Ellen on my left. Ellen cranked one eye open, saw me looking at her, smiled, and squirmed up a little so she could kiss me. I could feel her erect nipples against my arm, a sensation that made my cock twitch.

She whispered, "Terry had to leave. He had an early flight to New York." She kissed me again. "I thought I'd come keep you guys company, maybe see what develops."

I asked, "What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty"

"Uh oh. Crystal told me last night she has an eleven o'clock flight to Miami? I had thought she'd be going back to Nashville, but Terry reminded her of a TV interview she's doing down there tomorrow."

"We better get her up."

Soon, we were all roaming around the suite in our nakedness, showering and packing up our belongings. I think we postponed putting clothes on, just so we could titillate each other.

I heard a knock on the door, and subsequently let Tina into the suite. She took stock of the three nude bodies hovering around suitcases and packing, and said, "If I'd known you were having a come as you are party, I'd have dressed for the occasion."

"What's up?"

"I come with news." She flopped down on the sofa, as I pulled on my briefs and blue jeans. Tina looked disappointed.

"First, the papers gave you and Crystal five stars for the half-time performance. They thought it was the best show in Dallas for at least the last five years, and that's high praise." Crystal stood in the doorway listening to the news, the light from the window accentuating the curves and gentle bumps on her body. I watched Tina lap her lips; Crystal's sex turned her on. I liked that about Tina.

She went on, "Second, there's nothing I could find in any of the morning press about that little exchange you had with the photographer that caught you in Missouri. That said, there are about twenty paparazzi hanging out near your motorcycle downstairs - including Mr. Kenesis. I did notice the others are keeping their distance from him. Some of the press seem intent to follow you out of here on your motorcycle for photos or who knows. They've got their cars all lined up in the parking lot. If they chase you, just be careful - remember Princess Diana was running from the press."

Tina grimaced and said, "Now, unfortunately, I have some bad news. Jim, someone slashed the seats on your motorcycle to shreds, right down to the metal backbone of the seat. I'm sorry. If you want to leave before replacing it, my recommendation is that you use a half-dozen bath towels to replace the padding that's been torn asunder."

I muttered under my breath, "Kenesis getting some revenge."

Crystal said, "Jim, take the towels. I'll pay the hotel for them when I checkout."

I nodded.

Crystal said in a worried tone, "I don't want you to have another confrontation with that man ... or even with the press. They all want to hound both of us, but Kenesis is the one that scares me. I've never been stalked before, or had people peeking in my windows. I'm worried he sees me as the weak link, and will follow me to Miami to harass me."

I observed, "If you were going with me, he'd just follow me, or try to."

She said, "But I have to be in Miami this evening and again tomorrow morning."

I said, "What if we did some kind of switch? I don't think it's too late to do a little deception."

Ellen had come into the room; "What do you mean?"

"Look, no one except Terry and a few others knows about your Miami appearances; they're not public knowledge. What if you supposedly rode out of town with me on the motorcycle? The press, including Kenesis, would launch out after us - even follow us to New Mexico maybe. The real Crystal could slip out of the hotel, get to the airport in cognito, and leave for Miami, hopefully, unnoticed. When they figured out what was going on, it'd be too late to do anything about it. You'd be on gone."

We all turned and looked at Ellen.

Tina said, "That might work. You're both the same height and about the same body shape."

Ellen said, "But we don't look exactly alike; our hair color and styles are different. Crystal's older than me too."

I thought a second and said, "Wait, I know how to deal with that." I explained my idea to everyone in the room.

A half hour later, the sisters were both wearing tight blue jeans, and identical white shirts tied under their breasts to draw the appraising eye away from their face. The lure of a seeing a naked breast would divert attention from whose breast it was.

I went out to the motorcycle with the towels, my saddlebags, and two duffle bags - one with Ellen's change of clothes and cosmetics in it. I strapped the first part of our cargo on the back of the motorcycle. Crystal came out behind me with a couple of other duffle bags, my travel guitar, and the bedroll I'd acquired to replace the one that disappeared in the Kansas tornado.

Crystal and I stood by the motorcycle and waved to the paparazzi; cameras clicked. We ignored the questions the press yelled at us and just smiled. We posed and hammed it up a bit. I saw Bart Kenesis frantically taking pictures of the two of us along with several other photographers, but tried to ignore him. We just waved again as we went about our business.

Crystal and I each took our motorcycle helmets and put them on our heads with the facemask open. Crystal started to tuck her hair up under, using a colorful scarf around her neck as well. Suddenly, I asked her so a few of the press corps could hear, "Hey, where's your purse?"

She thanked me for catching her omission, and ran back into the hotel wearing the motorcycle helmet.

I knew what was happening inside in the ladies room not too far from the side door entrance to the hotel we were using to go in and out. Crystal would shuck off her trademark western boots, the scarf, and the helmet. Ellen would put those on, tuck her hair up under the helmet, and sling her sister's quirky purse over her shoulder. The scarf around the neck would cover the last vestiges of Ellen's different hair color. A bracelet, necklace, and wristwatch would go from one sister to the other as well. Crystal would then check out her sister to be sure there were no obvious signs that a switch had been made.

I started the Harley, turning the bike around so we could make a quick exit from the parking lot before people got too detailed a look at my passenger.

'Crystal' came bounding out the side door, helmet on her head with the visor down. She had sunglasses on inside the helmet. She looked ready to go. She slid onto the motorcycle behind me, I revved the bike, the press gave us a corridor through them, and off we went.

I checked in the rearview mirror and saw Bart Kenesis leaping into an airport rental car. He started to follow us along with four other cars that followed him out of the hotel parking lot. I wasn't too concerned; Ellen really did look like Crystal, given the attention to detail the two had made. Moreover, when I was ready, I knew how to lose anyone following us in the Monday morning traffic around Dallas.

Rather than use the Interstates, we took the slow route out of town. We even allowed some of the cars full of paparazzi to catch up to us - even Kenesis, and take photos as we drove along the local highways heading west. They all waited patiently near one intersection where I stopped to fill the bike with gas. Ellen remained seated on the bike with her helmet on.

A few miles further on, I got tired of the game. I put a hundred yards between their lead car and the bike by weaving through traffic. Almost immediately, I made it through a traffic light just as it changed. Kenesis and the other members of the press had to stop. The last they saw of 'Crystal' and me; we were heading west towards New Mexico. Ellen hugged my body, and I welcomed the opportunity to get to know her better.

* * * * *

Ellen and I deviated from the obvious route we'd chosen out of town. I had a reputation for traveling the back roads, so we got on the Interstate for ninety miles to put as much distance as fast as we could between us and the paparazzi, going a little faster than we should have. We then left the highway and headed southwest on a route that wasn't the most direct way to go from the middle of Texas to Albuquerque, even if we were on back roads.

Ellen rode comfortably behind me, hugging me in an affectionate way and often rubbing her erect nipples across my back, a highly distracting gesture even with two layers of clothing between us. We'd spent enough time together to know we liked each other a lot. We'd been intimate with each other, and our affection wasn't a secret from Crystal with whom I had a growing long-term relationship. As we departed Dallas, Crystal even told me to keep her sister very happy.

The past week Crystal and I had both expressed our love for one another - we'd used the 'L' word in a serious way. This was a milestone in my relationship with her - with anyone since the preceding February when Karen lay dying and I told her those words over and over. I had other women tell me they loved me; however, I'd been guarded in my reply despite strong feelings of affection. Before saying 'I love you' to Crystal, I had said those words to Kim. They both knew it and approved of the other being a love interest.

Ellen and I camped out by a lake north of Abilene. We made love in the open in the daylight and later beneath a panoply of stars. After dark, the air was cool, just the right temperature to offset the heat we generated from our energetic lovemaking. We spent over an hour and a half making love. Ellen decided she liked having me fuck her while she reclined on my motorcycle. She said, "I feel so wanton doing it this way, like I'm a motorcycle slut or something." I assured her she was exactly that, and we screwed even harder as she called me various names in our sex game.

We cuddled together as we went to sleep. I found kissing her hair and inhaling her scent irresistible. I was falling in love with Ellen too. I wondered what Crystal would think about that when I told her. I wondered what Karen would think - Lauren? Anna? Kim? By my old standards I should only love one person at a time, but I'd changed dramatically and this felt so right. I could almost hear Karen in one of teasing moods saying, 'Sisters? You're nuts.'

I thought, but I've been with Karen's sister, and we really liked each other; Lauren even said 'I love you' to me. And then I thought of June and Kim, especially Kim who I could easily have spent the rest of my life with. She was already in love and married, but it didn't seem to stop us from using those magic words with each other. Lacie and Lindy - mother and daughter - behaved like sisters, and I liked them - and now, Crystal and Ellen. I'd told Crystal I loved her, and as I cradled Ellen's sweet naked body to my own I knew I'd also tell Ellen someday soon.

All these incestuous relationships led me to my own feelings about my sister. I was only a few weeks away from seeing Anna now - maybe two months. I wondered what she'd think about my thoughts about her. I didn't dare write them to her. I had to be there, to explain and to soften the harsh reality of what I wanted to do with her. I wanted to be able to sell her on the idea. I could finally think of the words in their boldest form: 'I wanted to make love with my sister.' I wanted to have an intimate relationship with her now and always. I hoped Anna felt the same way about me.

Chapter 23

New Mexico

Ellen and I made love constantly when we weren't on the motorcycle. A couple of times, we even pulled off the road at some scenic spot in west Texas or eastern New Mexico and made love. If we hadn't cared much about each other when we started, we sure did by the time we reached Albuquerque. For two nights, we kept Crystal amused by texting her snapshots of the two of us in various stages of undress and pictures that blatantly proved our sexual activity. Crystal wasn't shy about sending pictures of herself in what can best be described as compromising situations. Crystal, Ellen, and I had phone sex, the two of us coaching Crystal through her masturbation to an orgasm as the two of us fucked and described our erotic acts to her.

On our fourth morning together, I drove Ellen to the Albuquerque International Sunport so she could take a flight back to Nashville. We were discrete in our goodbye on the sidewalk at the airport. The serious goodbye had happened behind closed doors at our motel a half-hour earlier. I looked longingly at Ellen from curbside until she vanished inside the airport. I felt a hole in my life now that she was gone, although I knew I'd see her again sometime soon.

* * * * *

The trip from the airport to Santa Fe took about an hour and took me past even more interesting terrain, including mesas and deep ragged gullies. I took the Interstate so I'd have more time at that day's destination, the well-known artist community full of art galleries and a unique plaza full of specialty shops and sidewalk merchants. Sunset would be early, and while the daytime temperature had been around sixty, the Weather Channel forecast temperatures in the high twenties overnight. Softie that I'd become, I opted not to camp out.

Western scenery seems so foreign to a New Englander. You can see across the rolling hills for huge distances. There are few trees, but copious amounts of scrub brush. In the distance, you can see mountains and mesas and other geological formations absent in the northeast. Streams are modest, yet they flow in broad deep cuts through the landscape that signal severe runoff part of the year or after colossal thunderstorms. Cuts through the landscape or the sides of steep cliffs or mesas leave visible evidence of the earth's formation in the hardened strata. Dinosaurs had roamed this landscape a hundred million years earlier after it had risen out of a prehistoric ocean.

I parked the motorcycle on the downtown plaza in Santa Fe. The radical differences with traditional east coast downtowns magnified for me as I stood on one corner of the plaza and looked around. The adobe buildings from decades earlier had survived modernization so that they still signaled the western, Anglo, Native American, and Spanish heritage of the region. At a welcome center, I picked up a map. I roamed from gallery to gallery, admiring the art that talked to my soul - paintings, sculpture, rugs and tapestries, and jewelry. I wanted it all. Outside the shops on the plaza, yet beneath a broad protective overhang, dozens of merchants displayed their handiwork - jewelry and crafts were spread out on blankets on the ground or folding tables.

Turquoise jewelry on one table especially caught my eye. I'd seen hundreds of other pieces, but these were intricate and exceptionally done. For myself, I picked out a belt buckle, watchband, necklace, and a ring, all silver with a delicate filigree and an artistic inlay of perfectly chosen turquoise stones that balanced with the silver. For the women in my life, I picked out pins, belt buckles, rings, necklaces, and some headbands and combs of the same beautiful caliber.

As I finished choosing my gifts, I looked to see where I should pay for the jewelry. The door to the silversmith opened, and a gorgeous dark skinned woman came out wearing an artistic top, skirt, and moccasins that signaled 'Native American.' She greeted me with a pretty smile, "Have you completed your shopping? May I help you further? There are a few more pieces inside."