The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 12

Charlie took a deep breath. "Good time?" she said.

Rachel shrugged. "Honestly. We played hide and seek for a couple of hours."

Charlie's phone rang, and she spoke rapidly in French for a minute. All Rachel could get was the occasional 'oui'.

"Sorry," Charlie said, grabbed Rachel's hand, and pulled her into the back seat. "Let's play hide and seek in the back of the Rolls for a while."

They slipped onto the back seat and Charlie pressed the button which lifted the privacy mirror between them and the driver. Rachel noticed that Charlie wasn't putting on a seatbelt. Instead she grabbed Rachel's head and began kissing her.

Rachel came up for breath.

"Here?" Rachel said as Charlie began to reach into Rachel's leggings and began to peel them down her legs.

"Traffic this time of day is a bitch." She said "but so am I. Any way you haven't done it if you haven't done it in the back of a Rolls. Seriously there are no other uses for a traffic jam. Come on".

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked.

"Come on. Doing it in pubic. It's a huge turn on." Charlie said.

"Your a bad girl but so am I." Rachel said as the car pulled off.

Charlie pressed a button and the windows became heavily tinted hiding them from external envious eyes. The same thing happened hiding them from the driver.

The world outside disappeared as Charlie launched her self on to Rachel. While they moved forming one body like a pale carnal Durga. Rachel felt her leggings pulled down followed by the gaff.

"Pull mine down" Charlie said and Denver obliged. Charlie pulled her clothes off. Charlie moved up they kissed for a few blocks and then sat she in Denver's lap.

Denver felt Charlie's weight on him as she sandwiched him between her self and the chair.

"Ohh Look what I found," Charlie said as she began stroking Denver's stiffening member. Denver started kissing Charlie's neck and she shuddered to the thrill of Denver's lips. Charlie tried to work Denver's member up into her rear hole.

"I don't like that kinky shit." Denver whispered uncertainly.

"Don't pop my balloon" Charlie said "Oh I've always wanted to do this. I've love the feel of dick in there."

Denver was confused until Charlie guided his hand to her warm wet clit. She used her finger to guide Denver's while she did similar movements in time on Denver's stiff rod.

"Oh yeah, Oh yeah" Charlie said deeply. "Is this how a man plays with himself? Yes." Denver copied Charlie's movements around her button. His finger was quickly lubricated with her sweat and cunt tears. Charlie looked down and could see Denver's dick emerging from just under her own crotch.

Charlie copied Denver's movements on her clit on Denver's dick. If he went faster she went faster, if he pushed harder, she pushed harder. While they moved in unison Charlie moaned appreciatively.

Denver began to move faster and breathed harder. With Charlie's weight on him, he couldn't breathe was getting slightly dizzy. Denver orbited her button more quickly Charlie started pumping her hand faster. It might have been the lack of oxygen but from the position and the feel of Charlie's button under his finger it felt like Denver had a clit and was playing with it.

Turning to the side Rachel stared back in the dark mirror of the windows, her satin red lips open invitingly. Rachel's smokey eyes looked seductively and indulgently back. She was so wet and her acrylic digit moved faster and faster on her button as she got closer to making her self cum.

"This is fantastic" Charlie said copying Denver's faster movements.

Together they felt like one piece of errotic flesh surging as one. Denver could feel Charlie's body against his. They felt they were one. He could hear her heart, the very breath in her body. He felt like he was in a tunnel. His periphery now closed down. Charlie orgasmed with a loud hail and a shot of Charlie's cum blasted off and hit the black privacy window between them and the driver. Rachel came as well with a shudder as her clit gushed.

Denver zoned out for a second and woke up with Charlie's warm and moist cunt in his hands. She was no longer on top of him. Denver was relaxed like a cat before an old log fire at Christmas.

"My god I can truly say that was the best car sex ever." Charlie said softly in his ear.

They both lay still in each others arms for a while. The rolls was stuck in traffic on a freeway Denver didn't recognise. He could have been on a royal barge in ancient Egypt and no felt less precious.

Eventually, Charlie began to check her phone. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and at Denver.

"That was good. But I think you need to tidy yourself up," Charlie said.

Denver began to tuck his parts away and pulled the tight gaff up over his synthetic hips.

Rachel looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was blurred but not a total mess. Charlie used a lipstick on her lips and some foundation to fix things. They had both worked quickly to clean things up but then found themselves still in traffic near a traffic light.

Charlie looked over.

"I'm not in a hurry, are you?" she said.

Rachel shook her head.

They sat back.

"So what did you do with him?" Charlie asked.

Rachel looked wary. "We had great lunch. Then we did a tour of the ship, and then we ended up playing hide and seek. Don't ask me how we got onto that," Rachel said. "He started calling me Cinnamon. Like come here Cinnamon. Pet names. I didn't know that was a thing anymore, but he's paying, so what the hell, right? Oh, the master bedroom was funny. It's like huge."

"He took you to the master bedroom?" Charlie said.

"It's not what you think. I told him, like I told you. Nothing is going on below the waistline, well, not between me and him."

Charlie leaned forward. "No, you don't understand. No one is allowed in the master bedroom except, well, him. It's one of the ship's rules."

"Why?" Rachel said.

"I don't know," Charlie said, then pursed her lips. "I'm going to find out, though. By the way, a guy on the dock said he hasn't taken anyone there for like three years. The ship has been in port for ages, but he still has occasional meetings on board."

"Weird," said Rachel.

The traffic moved slowly from the off-ramp, but they made their way into town. Rachel nestled deeply in the leather seat back, just in case someone looked in and recognized her.

"Cool time," Charlie said. "Look, I'm going to get out. There is another hotel I need to visit. I can walk to it from here. The driver will take you to the Thornbury. You can clean yourself up and return to being Denver. See you next time, I guess."

Rachel looked over to Charlie. "It would be nice to meet up sometime, when Levant isn't around, I mean," Rachel said.

Charlie put her hand on Rachel's knee. "That would be nice," she said without a flicker of commitment. "He has me doing a lot of running around. The only chance I get to catch my breath is when I'm with you. It's part of what makes it so nice." Rachel leaned forward to the driver and pressed the intercom button. "Pull up here. See you next time he's around!"

The car's brakes came on, and Charlie opened the door and jumped out.

It was a rather relieved Rachel who slipped into suite 1442. Rachel's phone vibrated. Pulling it out, she saw a message from Levant.

"I WANTED TO THANK YOU FOR A WONDERFUL DAY. LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING YOU AGAIN SOON," Denver replied, needing a suitable Rachel-like statement.

"YEAH, FAB DAY. LOVED THE BOAT. ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO SEE YOU. XXX RACHEL," he typed.

"NEXT SATURDAY?" Levant texted.

"SURE. XXX Rachel" Denver typed.

***********

It was late afternoon before Denver managed to deposit Rachel's bag at the main desk. He then exited past the lazy seats in the open cafe, making his way home. He could now afford a taxi but took the metro instead. Emerging from the metro, he noticed his finger held a ring he had forgotten to take off. It was gold, made by some Parisian artisan and inlaid with charming images of famous hotels. Levant had seen it and thought of Rachel. Pulling it off, Denver dropped it in a pocket and walked into the project where he lived.

Near the bottom staircase to the tower block, Denver strode past Jessey K. They had known each other through school. It had always been Denver, Jim, and Jessy K, but their paths had diverged now. Jessey K was a tall, slim boy who stood near the entrance working as the smallest of small-time drug dealers. He still lived with Mom and acted more like a doorman to the project than a low-grade drug dealer. Denver didn't do drugs, and Jessy K almost respected that. When they were younger, Jessey was the one who introduced Denver to all the rap artists he followed. He had also shamed Denver into the shop lifting they had done. Jessey had run off while Denver was caught by the police. He claimed Denver would be arrested, but he would be beaten up by the Police. Their friendship had cooled since then.

"Yoh Denver, my man. What's up?" Jessy K said, smelling of old dope and smiling like used needles.

"Same old, same old," Denver shrugged.

"Hey, you'll never guess what, right?" Jessy K began " These bum-bags turn up in their oh-so-nice car and park it over there. I'm like, 'You what?' Me and Tee walk over there, and we're like, 'What are you doing here? We don't want your kind round this place.' They give Tee some back talk, and Tee takes one down. I'm like, 'You don't know what they got, Tee.' Anyway, we'll see if they show some respect next time, you got me?"

Denver slowed down, and his stomach clenched as he heard the story. Denver knew Jessey K hid a gun nearby and would probably put a cap in Denver knee if he found out about Rachel.

"Yeah, right," Denver said. "You say hi to your mom and sister Kayla for me."

"Will do, Denver," Jessy K said. "Hey, Denver, you're working hard to get out of here. So am I. When you're a big-shot engineer somewhere, don't forget the little people you left behind, right?"

Denver looked behind him. "I'd never do that," he said. "You wouldn't either, would you? Not when you become a big-time drug lord. We would all help each other if we could, right?"

"Yeah," Jessy K said. "Sorry, man, I just get too lonely hanging around on my own."

Jessy was fundamentally a good guy, Denver thought. He was too shy to kill someone in cold blood. He would never make it as a drug lord; he was too reasonable, and life tended to tread on the reasonable. In ten years, he would still be standing here or dead, but he would never leave, and he knew it, and somehow embraced it.

The elevator was broken as usual, and Denver took the stairs to the apartment.

"Here he is!" Grandpa said, his weathered face splitting into a wide grin as Denver walked into the modest their apartment. The lines etched around his eyes and mouth spoke of years of hard work and wisdom earned through experience. "Here's my boy."

Immediately, Butcher the dog, a scrappy mutt with a wagging tail and boundless energy, came bounding up to Denver, circling around him with joyful excitement. Mom, a kind woman with warm eyes and a gentle demeanor, had just returned from church group and was in the midst of putting something on in the small living space.

"Where were you?" Grandpa asked, his curiosity evident in his tone.

Mom came up to Denver and enveloped him in a tight hug, her soft embrace a comforting reassurance. "I can smell girl on you," she observed with a playful smile. "I was so worried."

"Nah, Denver can handle himself," Grandpa interjected, his gruff voice carrying a note of pride.

Denver looked up from petting Butcher, his affectionate gestures soothing the energetic canine.

"I texted," Denver said, his voice calm and composed.

"You texted from that girl's phone. That always freaks me out. Who is she?" Grandpa inquired, his wrinkled brow furrowing with concern.

Denver stood up, towering over his elder family members. "Friend of Charlie's," he replied, trying to deflect the attention.

"That's the girl he's seeing," Grandpa remarked, nodding knowingly. Denver glanced down at the new air-tank Grandpa was using, evidence of his health struggles. "You can tell he's seeing her because he's shaving more often. Stopped smelling like a teenager."

"I know," Mom said, her gentle voice tinged with amusement. "I can smell girl on him. Pricey girl. She smells good for you. I haven't seen you this happy in years. This isn't a good part of town. You bring her around when you're good and ready."

Denver nodded, appreciating their concern and understanding. He decided to change the subject, wanting to share some news. "On the way in, Jessy K said some of those men came around, they scared them off. You heard about it?" he asked, looking for their reaction.

"The homos or what ever your supposed to call them. Yeah we talked about it at church. They think it's that gentrification. I said I don't care where they come from I'm worrying that they are close to our kids. The women from the Church support group are talking tomorrow about what to do about it. Do you know they want to start teaching this kind of stuff in schools to kids. They know the bible says it's wrong. It's just going to be Sodham and Gomorah all over again. You know it, all those fancy high class whores, the end of morality I call it I see it for what it is" Mom said.

Denver wasn't sure what to say. Half of him agreed with her, more than half. The rest wanted to tell her they were living in the twenty first centurary. The waves of guilt began to run around him. He almost felt dizzy.

"I've got stuff to do," Denver said. "I'll be in my room."

Mom glanced at the clock on the wall. "No, you won't, well, not for long. Your aunts and your uncle are coming round for dinner, remember? We are all going to sit and talk like civilized people because..."

"...we are a family," Denver finished Mom's sentence, halfway through the threshold to his room. "Yeah, I know."

"By the way, this letter turned up for you," Grandpa said.

Denver turned his head and opened the official-looking envelope.

Denver ripped open the paper, quickly unfolding it and scanning the page.

"Oh, shit," Denver said.

"What? What?" Mom asked eagerly.

"It's Midwestern. The university I applied to for the scholarship. They said yes. They are giving me a full scholarship if I keep my grades up," Denver said.

"Well, yeah!" Grandpa announced with a proud grin.

Mom moved closer, smiling. "Hey, congrats, son," she said, hugging him. "If your dad was alive, he would be so proud of you."

Denver suddenly caught up. "You knew?"

Mom smiled. "Why do you think everyone is coming round?"

Denver hugged Mom back tightly. "Really?"

"Maine and Ricky wanted to come as soon as they heard. They are so super proud of my little Denver," Mom said, tears glistening in her eyes. "They all wanted to be here for you. We are a family. We share in each other's triumphs, and it means a huge amount to everyone."

Denver wavered for a moment, feeling overwhelmed. He wanted to go and hide, but the news was too powerful. His heart floated like a balloon, lifting him high above the floor.

"So they knew?" Denver said.

Grandpa started to laugh. "Denver, half the block knows. Everybody is really happy. You're from here. You're made of this place. This is your home, and it can never be separated from you. You see, we are a family, a neighborhood, and we all know everything about each other."

"Stop it, Pa, you're embarrassing him," Mom said, wiping away a tear.

Rachel's phone vibrated, and Denver excused himself, going to his room and sitting silently to read.

"LOVELY DAY. IN TOWN NEXT SATURDAY EVENING. WE SHOULD DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT. DL."

As Denver sat back, the viper in his stomach returned. At some point, he would have to drop Levant, and that wouldn't be pleasant. Worse still, the longer this went on, the longer his family would have to find out about Rachel. Denver wanted to stop, but they had been slowly drowning for the last five years. Now, with Rachel's money, they could survive. Levant's whims had changed all that. Denver couldn't figure the guy out. Levant was young, good-looking, and worst of all, straight. They talked about football, baseball, and cars. Maybe he just needed a friend like he said. On the ship, he had been a perfect gentleman. If things went kinky, he would walk out. Rachel had to carry on as long as possible but then stop. It had to be as close to going university as he could make it. He hoped he could let Levant down in the right way.

Soon, Denver emerged to find Uncle Nat coming in through the front door.

"Hey Denver, my boy. Come here," he said, ambling along. Nat was in his fifties, but a work accident meant he had a walking stick. He held the stick firmly to Denver's back as he hugged him.

"I have a question for you," Nat said. "I have this PC, but there is hardly any space on it. The man in the second hand place said it was new."

Denver listened. "Check if there were other accounts and delete whatever you find on them..." Denver paused. He had the same problem with his own computer that Charlie had given him. It felt bad deleting everything. What if Charlie needed it? Perhaps if he backed it up, it wouldn't be too bad.

A text from Charlie came in, and Denver opened it with his usual glee.

"I WAS TALKING TO ONE OF THE OLD TIMERS. TURNS OUT HE BOUGHT THE YACHT FOR HIS FIRST WIFE. HASN'T BEEN OUT SINCE SHE DIED. FYI, HE'S TOLD LUCY TO TAKE IT INTO DRY DOCK TO GET THE ENGINE FIXED."

"OK," Denver texted back. "WISH I HAD KNOWN THIS BEFORE."

"NEXT SATURDAY GOOD?" Charlie added. "KEEP SUNDAY MORNING CLEAR TOO FOR US!"

Denver closed the phone and changed his shirt. Would his mom notice it was practically clean? He looked at the PlayStation. Denver realized that for the first time, there was no game engrossing enough to pull his mind from what was going on.