Ruby's Coach, Conclusion

This is the end of our first leg of our journey. Keep an eye open for our exciting trip out west. All characters are an amalgam of those I have known and experiences of which I participated. There is sex between adults, both heterosexual and bisexual. If that is not your taste, please move on. All comments are welcome.

We talked about our plans for the day and then quickly left to partake of the Conch Republic. The uber took us to the Southernmost Point marker. "Ninety miles to Cuba!" Of course, we took pictures! The women could not wait to leave us and went off to shop the stores and boutiques. Roger and I prowled the streets, stopping here and there. Back to Hemingway's House, this time for a tour. Then to the Historic Lighthouse which, of course, we climbed. Great view but we couldn't see Cuba! We visited two bookstores, a binocular shop, and at least a dozen little chachka shops. We ended up at Sloppy Joe's, which was Hemingway's favorite bar as well as the inventor of the Sloppy Joe Sandwich. We tossed down a few before Patty and Sam strolled in, weighed down by many bags.

It was heading toward sunset and that means Mallory Square. I had intended to check out the gay and lesbian piers/beach clubs down on the ocean side but the girls were too tired. I mean, you just don't get to see hundreds of naked people in one place too often, especially in America. I mean, I was curious, that's all. Really, you have to believe me! Instead, we decided to take our drinks over to the square to watch the scene before heading over to Louie's Backyard for dinner. A good choice but not as exciting to me.

There was more of a crowd for this sunset as two large cruise ships had pulled in. There were more street performers: a fire-eater, a clown, and a couple of human statues. You cannot help but get in a more festive mood. As the sun set, the volume of corks popping increased exponentially with the crowd.

Louis's Backyard was a trip. With its great location on the beach, the gourmet dinner was great. There was a moon tonight reflected in a line to the horizon, almost like an animation and unreal. Fish, wine, environment and good friends. In short, perfect.

Back at Ruby's Coach, we were stuffed and lethargic. Patty and Sam had to show off their shopping finds (You know, the bags we had been carrying around since Sloppy Joe's Bar). Sam explained that her purchases were coach dressing, a way to make the interior feel more like a home. Her first bag contained a small statue in glass. It was an ocean wave with the foam tip spraying off the end. It reminded me of "The Great Wave of Kanegawa", the famous Japanese print.

"It goes right here." Sam placed it in the mullion cabinet above the bar. I gave her some Alien Tape to secure it in place. "Okay! That looks great, don't you think? The interior light brings up the blue tint in the wave. It will remind us of this trip."

I had to agree. It was perfect. Patty was next with four identical souvenir tee shirts. It held a comical image of four naked people. On top, it said "Conch Republic" and on the bottom, it said "Freedom". The shirts received a rousing applause. Next, Sam pulled out a belt with a Western buckle and a silver tip. I needed one as my belt was about thirty years old and frayed beyond belief. Amazingly, it fit perfectly. Next, Patty pulled out a bottle of champagne; it was a Bollinger Brut Special Cuvee, which I immediately placed in the wine chiller.

"Now, we have something that is just for us." Patty pulled out two black silk crotchless thongs. Hanging down, over where their clits would be, was a string of pearls. "Wanna see why?" she teased.

They disappeared into the bedroom. When the returned, they were nude except for thongs. Pearls falling into their labia, it looked quite nice. "We had a lesbian fit us. She had a great tongue," said Sam.

"I'll say! A tongue of experience. Big, too."

"I'm an easy access girl now."

"And here..." said Sam dramatically as she pulled out more lingerie, "...is a pair for each of you -- for males. Here, put them on and model for us."

We went into the bedroom. Laughing at how we looked with our dicks dangling out holes, we came back to the living room. "These have absolutely no purpose," said Roger.

We put their Conch Republic tee shirts on. "Okay, show's over. Let's sit outside and party. It is beautiful tonight." Indeed, it was. With a cloudless sky and a gentle tropical breeze, it was the type of night for which the Keys are made. I popped the cork on the champagne.

Twice, we were interrupted by RV owners asking about our coach. We had to throw towels over our laps and act normal. The wife of one couple asked since our tee shirts matched, were we matched under the towels, too. We just laughed and didn't answer. Still, our underwear did feel strange.

"Tomorrow is our last full day. What are we doing?"

"The only thing we have planned is dinner at The Flaming Buoy. Beyond that, beats me," I said.

"So we'll improvise...like we do every day," said Sam. "And, by the way, this breeze has found its way into my crotch and I'm cold."

"You know, I have to agree. My nuts are shrinking!" We laughed. Just then, we heard shuffling feet coming our way. On went the towels. It was the wife who asked us the question about our attire.

"Can you help us? We need a buddy jump. Our Winny is about thirty feet away. We have a pretty long cord."

"Sure," I said, "let me put something on."

I got up and wrapped the towel around myself but I am sure she saw my ass. I put on shorts and read the manual on doing a buddy jump. I located where my outdoor outlet was. We were both fifty watts so we needed no converter. I opened Bay 6, Driver Side.

Meanwhile, the wife was having champagne and laughing up a storm. I asked her where her extension cord was. She said that her husband, Alan, was waiting by their coach and I should go to him. It was apparent that she was having too good a time.

Alan was beside his coach with a fifty-foot cord. We plugged it in and I unreeled the cord to my coach and plugged my end in. It just barely made the distance between the two coaches. I started Ruby up and immediately his generator kicked in, powering up his batteries. I went back to Alan who was now reeling in the cable.

"Thanks a million. We're pulling out of here in a little while, as I like to drive at night. When I'm up to charge levels -- and I think that will take a couple of hours -- we'll leave. Will you tell my wife that I'm going in to take a nap now. Again, thanks." I picked up no vibe at all. He was a bit dour, unlike his wife.

I could see that this mishap had seriously drained his energy; I bid him a good night and a safe trip. I walked back to Ruby. As I approached the gang, I was surprised to see that Patty, Sam and Roger had dropped their towels. The wife had joined the party by dropping her linen and was sitting with her legs spread and a lightly haired pussy.

"Meet Harriet from Ohio."

"I think I already have. Alan wanted me to tell you that he is taking a nap while your ride charges."

"Good for Alan," she said, "Can we take this inside?"

"Sure," said Sam, taking her hand.

After we cleaned up and stowed the chairs, Roger and I went into the coach. On the bed, there was a three-way oral demonstration going on. Harriet from Ohio was getting her rocks off and letting the immediate world know. Roger and I watched for a moment and went back to the living room.

"You know, after a while, it gets old and tired," said Roger wearily.

"Hell no, I give them credit. They meet another horny hungry lost soul and, bingo, they tend to her. They always seem to get it up. Could you? I know that I couldn't. I say, here's to them."

"I suppose." We went on like that for a while. We watched an old Rockpalast with a John Hiatt and The Goners concert on the screen. The drink and smoke loosened us up considerably when we heard a whooping orgasm from the other room. At first, I thought it was John Hiatt. Roger apparently thought the same. Then we heard it again and we both started to laugh uncontrollably.

A few minutes later, Harriet from Ohio came out of the bedroom dressed and ready to go back to the napping Alan. "Well I hope our coach is all charged up 'cause I am."

"Good luck," we said, "If you need us, we're here." She left and we started to roar with laughter again. It was a good stoned.

Sam and Patty walked out of the bedroom a few minutes later. They looked quite disheveled and a little beat up. "What was all the laughter about?" asked Patty.

"Oh, we're very stoned," I said. "Let it go at that." Roger snickered. "Did you two have a good time?"

"Actually, I'm pretty exhausted," said Sam.

"Yeah, me, too," added Patty. "I think we did our good deed for the day,"

"True," said Sam. "She was very horny and frustrated with Alan. She hadn't had any sex for the last two weeks. Also, she was hungry for girl sex, something she hadn't had since college, a long time ago."

"We did what we had to do. We stepped up to the plate. And now, I'm beat and I just want to go to sleep."

"That goes for me, too."

Roger and I set up the bed while the women showered. Sam was nearly asleep when I got into the bed and snuggled up.

In the morning, we rose to the smell of coffee and warm bagels. Roger asked, "It's our last day in Key West. What shall we do today?" We noticed that Alan and Harriet from Ohio had departed.

"I was thinking that maybe we could take a seaplane out to Fort Jefferson in the Tortugas. We could spend a couple of hours exploring."

"Ooh, good idea."

That is what we did and it was a great adventure. Exploring this nineteenth century American version of Devil's Island was a unique experience. To be in this fortress in the midst of the Gulf where Dr. Samuel Mudd, the only prisoner it ever held, was a remarkable place. It was turtle mating time and hundreds of turtles were nesting in the sands around the fort. We caught the seaplane back at four o'clock just in time for the end of a street festival and headed back to the coach to rest.

That evening, we headed out to The Flaming Buoy Filet Company under a shower of fireworks from the direction of Mallory Square.

"Our flight is at noon tomorrow. I think we have plenty of time for one more fourgy," said Roger.

"Oooh. Can I have the 3P?" asked Patty.

"What's that?" asked Sam.

"Okay, I go down on you, Rog fucks me and Ray takes my ass."

"A fourgy and a 3P! It sounds like a circus act. I'm in!" I said. "But first, I have to walk off this dinner."

"Good idea," said Roger.

The four of us left the coach and walked around the RV park. It was a warm night and most of the coaches had their windows open. Many of them were rocking and you could hear the action through the screens.

"This walk is making me very horny," offered Roger. "Let's go back and rut."

We must have fucked half the night. The glass dildos even made an appearance. At one point, I think everyone had something up their ass. I think Sam drank about a quart of cum. To stay with the circus metaphor, Patty did some acrobatics. I was amazed at her flexibility. If only we had a trapeze bar. Oh, well, there is always the next coach! Throughout this fourgy, we laughed incessantly, just like a bunch of little kids in a playground.

"I've had enough," Sam cried out. "My pussy is so incredibly sore."

"Mine, too," said Roger. I could not agree more as my dick was swollen but not in a good way. Finally, we crashed in a pile. Snoring ensued.

When the morning arrived, we dragged ourselves out of the bed into the shower. We were groaning and limping around. It was not a pretty picture but, Hell, you pay to play.

I began to close up the coach. My intention was to take them to the plane and then clean out the tanks. I filled the fresh water tank from the hose bib. Fortunately, there is a triple purification system on board. Roger helped me while Sam made breakfast. As Patty was last to shower, she was still dressing.

When I was satisfied that all the bays were closed and we'd left no footprint, we had bacon, eggs, cereal, and fruit and, it was a perfect hotel buffet. The coffee hit the spot.

We cleaned up, closed up the slides and made our way to the airport, which was only a couple of miles away. Patty was crying and even tough old Roger was emotional. For some reason, although I was sad to see them go, I felt it was enough.

"Maybe we'll see you down the road."

"Could be."

"You never know." And, you really don't. Who thought I'd ever see them again, let alone bump into them on Little Palm Key.

"So, where to now, Henry The Navigator?" I threw the ball to Sam.

"I say, we go home by taking the scenic route."

"Is there a scenic route through Southern Florida we haven't been on already? It's pretty limited on the mainland."

"I mean, let's take the minor highways."

"Let's see on the maps which roads to take, that are well maintained and there are no low bridges."

"Look, easy peasy. It was one hundred thirteen miles to the mainland, next to remains of Flagler's train along Route 1. We take it to Homestead where we pick up Route 41 through the Everglades to Naples and then north to pick up 75 at Punta Gorda."

And it was very easy peasy. Except for traffic while an alligator crossed the road, there was nothing to it.

We talked about Roger and Patty a bit and how they exhausted us. We agreed that three days together was quite enough. Sam suggested that they overstimulated us. Still, it was a good getaway and the Keys were a terrific destination. We decided that the Keys were a world of their own, an outlier in a conservative country.

Sam couldn't get over the upcoming reunion in Palm Springs. She talked about it quite a bit. "You know, I have had this fantasy for many years. I dream that I am touched, fondled and stimulated by many people. I am masked and I can't see they faces or genders. I get wet thinking about it. I'm afraid that if and when it happens, I'll have to come up with a new fantasy."

"It is a very exciting mental image," I said.

"Don't you have any fantasies?"

"Not really. I've pretty much realized all of them. I've done a lot although the Palm Springs scene will be a new one. I'll probably fantasize about that." Sam considered that and quieted down in thought.

"Check this out, hon. I started to put this together a few days ago. It's a playlist." I tapped on AirTunes and pressed play.

"They say, Ruby you're like a flame, into my life you came..." Ray Charles at his most soulful. "I got a girl and Ruby is her name, she don't love me but I love her just the same..." Donald Fagan on his best swing. Then a little "Ruby, My Dear" by Thelonious Monk, performed by NRBQ, and then back to doo-wop with Dion's "Ruby Baby." And that was it.

"I haven't finished it. You know, there's "Ruby Tuesday" and..."

"It was cute but a little too obvious...except for Monk. No, I'm sorry, it didn't work for me. Let me handle the music, okay? I want to hear more peaceful stuff, you know, relaxing stuff and I think I really want to lie down for a while. I think I have to." We were only nearing Marathon Key. She went back to the bedroom. I turned on the music in the room and iTunes Genius built a "peaceful" playlist for her. Meanwhile, in the cockpit, I listened to a "rock-songwriter" playlist with Elliott Murphy, John Hiatt, Willie Nile, John Prine and others.

I crossed Key Largo onto the mainland. It was forty-five minutes until I got to Route 41. I pulled into a rest area. I hit the head and then quietly entered the bedroom. Sam was just awakening.

"Why'd you pull over?"

"I had this strong desire to give you an afternoon delight." With that, I pulled off her shorts and panties and dove tongue first into her nether parts.

She murmured, "That feels so good."

Lovingly, I kissed her vulva. Slowly, I licked into her lips and drank her womanhood, which tasted like the nectar of the Gods - pure ambrosia. I took my time and soon was lost in the soft and wet walls. She squirmed as I circled her clitoris. She arched when the tip of my tongue laved beneath its hood. She moaned as I sucked it in.

Her vulva puffed up and out, opening her lips wider. For the past several days, we have had some hard sex but this was clearly the opposite. This was soft, gentle, sensual and totally erotic. We were lost in it and on autopilot. There was much moaning and sighing.

I felt her heave a little and then felt a gush. It was a minor orgasm but it was building rapidly. Her labia puffed up more and I heard little hiccups when circled her clit. The little man in the boat was rockin' in her waves. I became more exacting in my tongue swabs. I held her back while she pushed me. And then I realized she was on the brink of bliss. I went back to slow and tender circles. I heard her sigh. More juice dribbled out of her canal only to become a steady flow.

My beard was sopping. Our scent united. Her pelvis began to gyrate. I quickened my pace a tad. Suddenly, she gripped the sheet and went rigid. Then she exploded. Her hips began to shake and rapidly move up and down. She moaned unendingly. Her orgasm flowed into my mouth but I did not release her. That happened when I slipped two fingers into her sloppy pussy. That really set her off into the fireworks zone.

I tenderly licked her up and cleaned her vagina inside and out. She grabbed my hair (what little is left on top) and pulled my mouth to hers. We seemed to kiss for hours but only minutes had elapsed.

"Whatever made you pull over. You just had to do me?"

"Actually, I had this fantasy. I'd be driving when, for no reason except to bring you pleasure, I had to pull over. So I did it. And it was good. Now, I have some driving to do."

As I pulled out of the rest area, there was a gas station with a large truck island. After a couple hundred dollars of diesel, I re-entered the highway set to cruise up to Naples. Also, I still smelled of Sam.

As I said, if not for the alligator, I would have cruised steady. I saw red lights and slowed down. Highway Patrol officers had stopped traffic in both directions. I stopped and from our vista just above the cars, I saw the gator. He was crawling over the median and across the road in front of us. I called Sam from the bedroom and made her watch the gator cross the highway. I mean, I forced her but she was glad I did. I made good use of my break time and peed again.

Like crops in the Midwest, crossing the Everglades was boring with nothing to see. We made it across to Naples, one of my least favorite towns. Synonymous with the words pretentious and ostentatious, Naples exudes showy wealth and not at all my taste.

Outside Cape Coral, we pulled into a Walmart parking lot to make some lunch. Sam had recovered from her orgasm and prepared a salad and some sandwiches.

She asked, "So, what's the plan?"

"I figure we'll take the coach over to Bradley's place to check it out and to get it ready for our next adventure to the northeast and then to Oklahoma to pick up our stacker and then to Palm Springs. Maybe we'll leave in a couple of weeks. I'm flexible. Whatever is good with you."

"That's good because I want to go. This trip has been very comfortable. Wherever we go, it's all good. I'm ready...but maybe we'll cut out the northeast leg this time." I think she really wanted to get to Palm Springs.

Just before Ft. Myers, Sam crept up the cockpit and unzipped my fly. She began to blow me but it distracted me from all the traffic ahead.

"Hold that thought. I have to concentrate on the road."

"Gee, that's the first time you've ever said no to a blowjob! I think you better pull over again."

"I can do that."

I pulled into the far end of a shopping center; a place where we would not be disturbed for a while. I started to get up to go in the back.