Chapter 13
Trouble in paradise snuck up on Jake from the most unlikely of directions. It all started, innocently enough, with an invitation to a birthday party. The day classes started back up at Stetson Jake received an invitation in the mail for Cindy Sorenson's eighteenth birthday party. The party was being held on Thursday, September twentieth -- he could do that. The fly in the ointment was the location; the party was being held in New York City. Jake showed the invitation to Melissa.
"You aren't going, are you?" she asked.
"Yeah, I think I will; unless you don't want me to," Jake replied.
"If you want to go, then go," Melissa said.
Jake, had he not been as dense as an eight lane minefield, should have known instantly that she meant not just 'no', but 'hell no!'.
"Ok, I'll call Mitzi tomorrow and have her set me up," Jake said.
"You do that," she sniffed disdainfully as she stalked off.
Jake scratched his head over that last comment as he headed toward the dining room. He was anxious to see what Senora Lopez had whipped up for grub; she was still trying to fatten him up after his bootcamp stint with United States Army chow.
Jake and Melissa spent the evening studying in what Jake thought was companionable silence. Jake was blissfully unaware that Melissa was hurt and angry. When they went to bed, Jake snuggled up to Melissa's back and reached over her to cup her breast. She shrugged his arm off her shoulder.
"I don't feel like that tonight," she said.
That was a first. Touching was about Melissa's favorite thing in the world. Sleepy Jake said no problem, rolled over, and went to sleep. Melissa, however, stayed awake. She hated the idea of him going to New York to be with Cindy. The thought of the ravishing blonde having three days to work on her man sent paroxysms of panic through her. That Jake could not see how she felt pissed her off. He was the smartest man she had ever even heard of, yet he was clueless about her feelings. He was thinking with his dick, she thought, and could not wait to see 'little miss perfect'. Melissa quietly cried herself to sleep.
It was unseasonable cold in their bedroom the next morning. Melissa barely spoke to him and totally avoided any physical contact. Jake was starting to get irked by her attitude. He had to get to class though, so he did not make an issue out of it. He finally made the connection between Melissa's attitude and Cindy's party at lunch. Besides feeling stupid it had taken him so long to figure it out, Jake was also bemused by Melissa's attitude. It was not as if he were keeping anything from her. Not to mention that he was fairly certain he would not be sleeping with Cindy anyway. It was certainly curious, seemed to be careening out of control, and another glaring example of how little he really understood women.
That evening Jake received more of the silent treatment. He held his tongue until they went to bed.
"If you don't want me to go to Cindy's party, just say so," he said in exasperation.
Melissa flashed him a hurt look.
"If you really loved me, you would decide on your own not to go," she replied.
Jake was dumbfounded. She had dug out the old 'if you really loved me ploy'. Jake was on more familiar ground now. Actually, this was a terrain he had crawled over and knew very, very well. He had had that game played on him often in his previous life. Susan Jean Jones (Susie Jean the love machine) had elevated it to an art form. He was not going to have that in this lifetime. Jake took Melissa's hands and sat her down on the edge of the bed.
"Listen Muffy, if you have doubts about my love for you, something is fundamentally wrong with our relationship. If you want me to be monogamous, I will be. But I'm not going to be friendless and I'm not going to be manipulated. There is no reason for me not to go to Cindy's party. So I'm going, but when it's over I am coming back to be with the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."
"Jake, she scares me. She is so beautiful and so intent on having you. It's a lot for a man to resist. I keep thinking that if she gets you in her grasp, she won't let go. I think she's going to use this trip to sink her hooks into you. If that happened, it would kill me as surely as knife."
"It's not going to happen, Honey, I promise. I have a bond with Cindy that is hard to explain -- but it's not like what we have. At first I thought that she was the one for me, then as time went on we just didn't connect to the depth and intensity that lifemates have. At least for me it was that way. Cindy knows how I feel; how she feels is her problem. My heart says you are the woman for me. Got it?"
"But Cindy..." she started to say.
Jake held up his hand.
"You are just going to have to find a way to accept what I am saying at face value. I love you and you are stuck with me until you throw me out; end of story," Jake said.
Melissa looked like she did not think they were finished talking, so Jake kissed her. Thankfully, she returned the kiss with considerable ardor. Of course, as soon as her lips were no longer covered by his they started moving again.
"I'm going to take you at your word, Baby, but I don't want you to make love to her. I don't care if she says it's a scientific experiment or a one time thing or whatever. I want you to keep Mr. Turner out of her."
"Yes dear," Jake said.
Jake's promise made Melissa a little happier. She pulled him back onto the bed and on top of her. She decided to give him plenty of reasons to want to come home over the next two weeks. She would get with Louisa and Erika tomorrow to enlist their aid, hummm, and maybe Tigger, and the Phillips twins, also. By the time he departed for New York, they would have him drained. Then when he returned she would make it even better for him. Melissa started putting her plan in effect that night by relieving him of a few million spermy-wormies. What she missed Wednesday night she had for breakfast Thursday morning. Jake thought her conduct was a great improvement over the bitching and whining.
Jake walked through the door, home from classes at four o'clock, that same afternoon. He arrived just in time to take a phone call from Mitzi Walker. Mitzi relayed a name and number of a doctor who had received one of the Coma Recovery Research Center's flyers. Jake immediately returned the call. He dug out one of the questionnaires they had developed and ran down it with the doctor he spoke with. Jake hung up the phone, sat back in his chair, and studied the questionnaire. The pattern fit. It was their first creditable lead in the fifteen months since he and Nina created the CRRC. The patient was a ten year old girl from Newburg, New York.
Jake dug his Day Timer out of his book bag and looked up Doctor Christopher Douglas' phone number. Doctor Douglas had been Nina's neurosurgeon when she woke up in Regina's body. Douglas was also a friend of the family now, and a consultant for the CRRC. Jake repeated the information he had garnered from the other doctor to Douglas, along with the phone number. Dr. Douglas said he would call Jake back as soon as he talked to his colleague in New York.
Dr. Douglas called Jake back twenty minutes later. He confirmed what Jake already suspected. Having Douglas call the doctor in New York was a way to establish the bona fides of the CRRC. Jake called the hospital in Newburg again and gathered as much personal information about the girl as he could. A call to Jim Peters started a background search on the girl; a call to Nina set in motion a plan to make contact with her. Lastly, Jake called Maria Thornton, Attorney at Law. Maria said she had contacts in Hartford, Connecticut that could find them a local attorney. Hartford was over eighty miles from Newburg but it was the best she could do.
Jake was having trouble suppressing his excitement. Jake told Melissa the news when he got off the phone. She did not understand why finding the girl got Jake so excited but if it made him happy, she was all for it. She was also vastly relieved that the girl was only ten. The last thing they needed was another nubile horny woman in Jake's life.
Saturday, September the eighth, Nina and Jake flew up to Newburg. Dave Larson flew them in the larger Cessna. A lawyer and a private investigator met them at Stewart Airport, a former Air Force base now owned by the state of New York. The investigator drove them to the hospital, going over what he knew so far. This is what he told them:
The subject/patient was a ten year old girl named Leslie Solomon. She was the orphaned daughter of a wealthy couple from White Plains. Her Jewish father had been an executive at PepsiCo; her mother was black and worked at IBM's world headquarters. The parents had been counter culture peaceniks and civil rights activists. Jake noticed the investigator's look of disdain as he said that. The subject had surviving grandparents on her father's side of the family but they refused to accept any responsibility for the girl. They had been estranged from their son for over fifteen years and the strained blood ties did not stretch to include a ten-year-old they had never seen. The girl's mother had been herself an orphan with no known family.
Jake nodded and turned to the lawyer.
The lawyer then gave his story. Leslie's family, including two siblings, were killed when the father's car was side-swiped on the Bear Mountain Bridge at the northern terminus of the Palisades Parkway. The top-heavy station wagon he was driving climbed the guard rail and plunged over two hundred feet down and into the Hudson River. Leslie's life was miraculously spared because she was ejected from the car. The accident happened in front of gravel laden barge headed down river. The tugboats captain was able to slow the barge and a crewman went over the side with a rubber boat and retrieved the apparently lifeless girl. A helicopter from the Military Academy at West Point picked her up off the tug. She was successfully resuscitated at the West Point hospital and taken to the closest civilian hospital in Newburg.
Jake and company arrived at the hospital at four in the afternoon. Jake and Nina went in to see Leslie after a brief visit with her doctor. Jake made it clear to the doctor that the CRRC would take care of her hospital bill. He also let the doctor know that he had retained a lawyer for Leslie and that warehousing her at some institution was not going to happen.
Leslie regarded the two young people who entered her room with interest. She immediately realized they were not medical personnel and she doubted if they were from social services.
Jake was amazed at the serenity of the young girl. Her demeanor was nothing like the panicked Nina he had encountered last year.
"Hello, Leslie, my name is Jake Turner, this is my friend, Nina Mallory. Like you, we both woke up from comas without a memory of who we were."
"Really," was all Leslie said.
"Really," Jake echoed, "but we did wake up with memories. We thought it might be the same for you."
"It might be," Leslie said.
She turned toward Nina.
"What do you know about George Bush?" she asked casually.
"Senior or Junior?"
Jake could not get over the girls composure and nimble mind. She had established his and Nina's status in less than two minutes. Leslie told them her story. Her name, until she woke up in Leslie's body, had been Thelma Higgins. Thelma was a social worker in New York City. The daughter of share-croppers in rural Alabama, she and her husband had migrated to Harlem in the fifties. Thelma worked her way through Fordham University, taught school by day, and attended graduate school in the evenings. It took her seven years to earn her masters in social work. She had retired in 1996. Her husband died in '98.
Thelma was tragically infertile, so she lavished her love on the children she worked with. It was ironic that the crack-head who took her life was a child she had rescued. Thelma was deeply religious; her serenity was a result of her faith. She was convinced that God had brought her back so that she could do more good and perhaps raise a family of her own. In that context, Jake and Nina were simply agents doing God's work as well. Thelma's years of social work had tempered her reactions to her recycling also. She knew that she would be warehoused in a mental facility if she tried to tell anyone else her story. However, Thelma did know the system; consequently, she also knew how to get out of her predicament. Jake listened closely as she outlined her plan.
Jake and Nina kissed Leslie on the cheek and told her they would see her the next evening. Jake tracked down the lawyer and set him to work on the paperwork they would need tomorrow. Jake had the PI drive him and Nina to their motel rooms then dismissed him. That night for the first time in almost a month, Jake slept alone.
The lawyer picked them up at ten the next morning and drove them to the home of Isaac and Ruth Solomon, Leslie's grandparents. The Solomons lived in Scarsdale, a rich bedroom community in Westchester County. The Solomons agreed to Nina being appointed Leslie's guardian. Jake tried to get them to be involved in some way in Leslie's life. The strict couple steadfastly refused. They grieved for their son, not the man who died, but the boy for whom they once had such high hopes.
Jake and Nina went back and gave Leslie the news. She was thrilled at the chance to live her life again; she was a thousand percent behind Jake's plan to change things and was eager to get started. Jake told her the lawyer would file the paperwork the next day. The man was confident that he could have the custody motion expedited and Leslie released to them by the end of the next week. Jake tentatively made plans to pick up Leslie after Cindy's birthday bash.
Jake boarded a Delta jet at eight-fifteen on the morning of September 20, 1973. Mitzi's secretary had fixed him up with a first class ticket. The flight was direct to LaGuardia, scheduled to arrive at eleven-fifty. It was an enjoyable flight, Jake had first class mostly to himself, and the stewardess was pretty and flirtatious. Jake deplaned in New York, he got a kiss from the stewardess as she slipped him her phone number. She had a three day layover in the city and offered to show Jake the local sights.
A liveried limousine driver was waiting at the end of the Jetway holding a sign reading Jake Turner. Jake introduced himself and the man led Jake to the baggage claim area. The man grabbed Jake's suitcase and garment bag before leading him to the stretch limo parked directly in front of the baggage claim area doors. The Puerto Rican driver was most impressed with Jake's excellent Spanish, they were yakking like old friends by the time they hit midtown. Cindy's party was being held in the Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel so Mitzi's secretary had booked him a room at the Plaza. Jake learned from the driver that the car was at his disposal for the duration of his stay. Jake was impressed, it was his first opportunity to experience what very rich folks took for granted.
Jake was even more impressed when he checked in. As soon as the woman at the check-in desk associated his name with a room, her already friendly demeanor got even brighter. She called a bellman who led Jake to his room. Only it was not a room, it was a palatial three-room suite on the nineteenth floor, overlooking Central Park. The bellman told Jake it was the Vanderbilt Suite, the finest in the hotel. Melissa, it seemed to Jake, was going overboard to make up for their little tiff. Jake unpacked, called the concierge desk to have his tuxedo pressed for the evening, and then took a nap.
Jake woke up at five-fifteen refreshed and ready for the evening. The party was not going start until seven so he watched the local evening news. At six, he called Melanie Stevens, the stewardess from his flight, and asked if she would show him the city tomorrow. Melanie was most happy with the idea, so Jake got the address of the hotel where she was staying and said he would pick her up at eleven. Jake headed for the shower to get ready for his first celebrity party. He doubted if he would have that much fun, but it was going to be great to see Cindy and Laurie again.
Jake walked down to the ballroom at five after seven. He picked up a club soda at one of the bars and settled against the wall to people watch. The party was almost exactly as Jake envisioned, as pretentious assholes strutted around trying to one-up each other. At eight, Laurie walked into the room and scanned the crowd. She spotted Jake and motioned him over. Jake walked with her to an anteroom where Cindy was waiting to make her entrance. Cindy was so stunningly beautiful it took Jake's breath away. Cindy gave Jake a light hug.
"I'll greet you properly as soon as we have a minute, Jacob. Right now I need to be unmussed when I make my big entrance," Cindy said.
Cindy took Jake's arm and he escorted her into the ballroom. Conversation stopped as Cindy walked in, the band broke into an electronic rendition of Happy Birthday to You, and the crowd broke into applause. Jake was a hot commodity that night, the oft-mentioned boy from home. Cindy's fellow models were impressed with her guy; he was not very cosmopolitan, but he was sure big and handsome. Jake made nice to everyone; he was always unfailingly polite, something that was a rarity to the jaded New Yorkers.
Cindy was off talking to Andy Warhol when Jake met the next significant woman in his life. He was back at the bar freshening up his club soda when someone laid a hand on his arm. Jake turned and was eye to eye with a smiling brunette. She stuck out her hand.
"Jake Turner, I presume. I'm Patricia Wellington," she said.
Jake bent slightly over her hand as he held it loosely in his.
"No, you are not," he said.
"I'm not?" she replied making no move to extricate her hand from his.
"Nope, you are too beautiful to be a Patricia, and too wholesome. You have to be Trish the Dish."
She favored him with a genuine and melodic laugh.
"You are as sweet and charming as Cindy said you were. Thank you, sir; but since your girlfriend is one of the most beautiful women in the world, I'll take your compliment with a grain of salt. But I like you calling me that; it's my first nickname that didn't have to do with my size or shape."
Jake loved her voice; it was deep, throaty, and very feminine. She was not classically beautiful but she was most attractive. Striking was the best way to describe her. She had wide-set hazel eyes, a generous aquiline nose, and large pouty lips. Her hair was thicker than even Louisa's and, despite her best efforts, always seemed on the verge of exploding in disarray. Her body was more of the same. She was tall and Rubenesquely curved; probably thirty pounds over what some would say was her ideal weight. To Jake it all fit together exquisitely. To Jake she was the sexiest woman in the room.
"Cindy is my oldest friend but she's not my girlfriend. I am going to talk to her about that later," Jake said.
Jake went on to explain the whole story to Patricia. Patricia told him it sounded like Cindy had an idealized idea of a relationship in her head that made here feel like a martyr. The beautiful young girl saving herself for the ideal guy. The Sleeping Beauty syndrome, Patricia called it.
Jake was intrigued by Patricia's intellect. When he asked her about herself, she told him that she started as a Ford Model, a good gig until her body started filling out. Her body just was not meant to be as thin as a model's needed to be. She retired from the runway and went back to college. She was now a psychologist who specialized in treating models. She worked for all the big modeling agencies in the city. Models, it seemed, had more than their fair share of issues. She was twenty-eight years old and conveniently between significant others. Jake got her phone number before Cindy rejoined them.
Cindy stayed by Jake's side the rest of the evening, introducing him to her friends and assorted celebrities. Cindy was very comfortable in this world, Jake noticed, while he was decidedly not. Trish Wellington was the only real person he met that night, as even Cindy and Laurie glossed themselves in the blasé veneer of the other elitist snobs.
The party broke up at one in the morning. Jake and Cindy said a public goodbye and Jake went up to his suite to change clothes. A short cab ride and the agreed forty-five minutes later, he was knocking on their door. Jake kept his word to Melissa and kept his dick out of Cindy. In fact, he did not even consider the idea of sex until Cindy and Laurie crawled on him. For the next two hours, Jake was buried in one of Laurie's orifices as he or Laurie had their mouths glued to Cindy's pussy. Cindy seemed to get a vicarious thrill out of Jake slamming Laurie's pliant little body as she directed the action. The sex was good but uninspired on Jake's part. Laurie just seemed too professional at it. It seemed as if she was screwing him more to provide Cindy a show than for her own enjoyment.
Jake dragged his tired ass back to his suite; it was after four in the morning. He was disappointed that he had not gotten to have his talk with Cindy. He guessed it would have to wait because Cindy was jetting off to Paris that evening.
Jake woke up at ten the next morning. He showered, shaved, and dressed before he called the concierge for the limo. Luis Colon, the same driver he had yesterday, picked him up in front of the hotel. Luis navigated smoothly to the hotel where Melanie was staying. Melanie was waiting out front: her eyes widened when Luis jumped out of the limo and held the door open for her. She gracefully slid into the car and kissed Jake on the cheek. Jake told Melanie that the car belonged to the hotel when she asked about it. Jake asked Luis to take them all somewhere for lunch. Luis drove them to a very nice Puerto Rican restaurant in Queens.
Melanie Stevens was the quintessential All-American girl. She was born and raised in Iowa and had a Bachelor's Degree in English from Drake University. She was blonde, bubbly, and smart as hell. Melanie tabled a possible career as a school teacher to see some of the world by working for the airline. In the process, she had discovered her innate people skills and loved dealing with the stream of customers she encountered. Jake liked her way of treating Luis the same way she treated him; it reinforced his initial impression of her. She would be perfect to implement his plan for a new level of customer service at the auto dealerships. Sales were excellent at all three import car dealerships already. They were about to skyrocket, Jake knew, because the oil embargo was less than a month away.
Jake wanted to establish customer service of a level that would bring customers in even when gas was cheap and plentiful again. Jake asked Melanie if she would consider interviewing for the position of Vice President of Customer Relations for the automotive division of Turner and Thornton Holdings. The dealerships were already such a hit that the big three Japanese automakers were begging TnT to open other franchises. Right now, the dealerships operated independently but Melissa was slowly warming to Jake's idea of a dealership network coordinated from TnT's headquarters. Jake said their objective should be dealer loyalty regardless of brand preference. TnT Automotive needed to become synonymous with customer service.
Melanie quickly accepted the offer for an interview. She said she would find out her schedule next Tuesday and call to set up the meeting. Luis, who had been included in the discussions, asked Jake some pointed questions about his plans to market to the burgeoning Hispanic market in Florida. Luis had two uncles already living in the Tampa area. Jake allowed that there could be a need for someone to perform the same service for Spanish speakers. He took Luis' personal information and told the driver he would check it out and call him.
Melanie and Luis spent the rest of the afternoon showing Jake the sights. Jake had been to the city in his former live but still enjoyed the tour. Jake walked Melanie to the door of her hotel. He declined her offer of an evening out. Jake explained to her that he was not going to let the hint of her possible employment nudge her into something she might not really want. Time enough for that later he told her. Melanie flashed him a big smile and said he was the sweetest guy she had ever met. Working with someone who did not try to get into her panties even before employment actually made the interview a post-decision event for her, she wanted to be a part of a Jake enterprise.
Jake was in his room an hour later about to dig out Trish's number when the phone rang. It was déjà vu all over again as Trish's sexy voice buzzed through the headset. She was in the neighborhood, she said, could she drop by. Jake told her nothing would make him happier and asked how long it would take her to get there. Trish laughed and said, "If the elevator was not full, all of three minutes". She was calling from the lobby. Jake hurried into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He was waiting in the suite's living room when she knocked. Jake opened the door; she stepped into the room, and into his arms.
"I've thought about doing that a thousand times since last night," Trish said when they finally broke for air and got around to closing the door.
Jake admitted to feeling the same way. Jake fixed Trish a rum and coke and joined her on the couch. They chatted for a few minutes to prolong the anticipation, but they both knew where they were going to end up. Jake was as hot for her as he could ever remember being. Trish wanted Jake more than any man or woman she had ever met. For both of them, it seemed as if a microwave was heating things up down there. Talking progressed to kissing, which led to petting. Jake soon had a happily moaning Trish's blouse unbuttoned to her waist. Jake was kneading her grapefruit sized breast through her bra when she broke their kiss.
"Let's go to the bedroom where we can be more comfortable," Trish suggested.
Jake stood up and took her hand. They almost ran to the suite's large bedroom. Trish shrugged her blouse off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Her breasts were encased in a sexy white lace bra. She kicked off her heels, unzipped her skirt, and shimmied her hips until the skirt dropped to the floor. Trish stepped out of the pool of fine denier wool and stood with her hand defiantly on her hip.
"This is what you get Jake, five-eleven, one-seventy-four, all woman. Still want me?"
Jake studied her in awe. Her shoulders were wide, dramatically tapering down to a surprisingly narrow waist then flaring out into womanly hips. She was a perfect hourglass perched on long shapely legs. Her hair was wild and unruly, framing her strongly featured face. She was a crazy quilt of slightly mismatched parts that fit together perfectly.
Jake quickly dropped his trousers and underwear. He flint-hard erection sprang out and up in front of him. He glanced down at his shaft then looked her in the eye.
"Does that answer your question?" he asked.
Trish took a good look at his equipment. It was slightly larger than any she had ever had; beautifully shaped with a slight upward curve; it fit him perfectly. It would fit her perfectly. It was all she had hoped for and then some. She smiled and reached for the front-fastener of her bra.
"Don't," said Jake, "I want to do that."
Trish's smile widened as she turned and gracefully stretched out on the bed. She was a vision lying there waiting for him with one leg drawn up at the knee. Jake positioned himself at her side and ran his hand over the silky smooth skin of her belly. Jake felt as if little bolts of lightening were moving between his fingertips and her supple skin. Trish must have felt them also as her skin rippled at his touch. He worked his way up her body until he reached the large expanse of creamy skin spilling out of the top of her sexy European bra. One day soon he was going to spend hours just touching her, but that would be later. Right now, he wanted to see the rest of her.
Jake deftly unclasped the front opening bra and pulled the cups apart. Her breasts sagged slightly to the sides. Her nipples were big pink pencil erasers surrounded by large areolas that were a shade lighter pink. Trish might be big but her proportions were perfect. Jake traced around the periphery of her areola with his tongue then sucked her nipple into his mouth. Trish took his head in her hands and made approving noises as he nibbled her nipple with his teeth. Jake released her nipple and rolled her over onto her stomach. He slipped the bra off her arms and tossed it aside, then reached for the waist band of her high cut panties. Trish rose up slightly to allow him to pull the white lace garment down over her ass.
Jake was enthralled by the expanse of smooth plump pulchritude he had uncovered. He quickly dragged her panties off and tossed them over with her bra. Jake smacked her lightly on her butt cheek. Jake marveled that her big ass was firm enough to bounce a quarter off. Trish gave a girlish giggle when he smacked her.
"I'll give you all day to cut that out," she cooed.
Trish was amazed at the way Jake man-handled her as he flipped her back over. She had never had a man that could do that. That's the main reason she had just about given up on men. Now this glorious man-child acted as she were no more than one of her anorexic patients. She loved every minute of it.
Jake maneuvered his way between her spayed thighs as soon as he had her on her back and dove face first into her fleshy muff. Jake felt as if he had died and gone to heaven as he noshed on her delectable nectar. She had the sweet addictive taste of Melissa, with a little spicy after-note of her own thrown in for good measure. Jake spread apart her puffy labia and licked up her slit until he reached her clit. Trish gasped in surprise as soon as his tongue touched her little nubbin. It usually took a while to coax her little clit out of its hood, yet with only a little foreplay, Jake had her fully distended. This boy was a keeper, Trish thought, as a guttural moan escaped her lips. Oh-my-God, now he had her making noises; that was certainly something new.
Trish reached down and laced her fingers behind his head to hold him in place as she started soaring towards her orgasm. Her hips pushed off the bed to establish firmer contact with his elusive tongue. Jake licked and sucked faster, burrowing his chin in her cleft as he worried her clit, urging her towards climax. Trish planted her rather large feet on the bed and shot her hips up so hard it split Jake's lip as she came. She screamed loud enough to be heard across Central Park. Jake tried to extricate his bruised face from between her legs but she had him in a death grip. Jake actually couldn't breathe as her thighs squeezed his head and her hands held him against her grinding groin. Oh well, he thought, it was the way he wanted to go, smothered in pussy. Trish finally eased the pressure enough for him to draw a ragged gasping breath.
Jake scrambled up her body before she could regain her grip and unceremoniously reached down and lined his dick up with heaven's gate. Trish screamed again as he slid into her tight wetness. Jake reckoned he was going to need major medical attention before the night was over as thousands of frantically waving hair cells in his left inner ear withered from her scream. Jesus, it was going to be worth it though, because she had the tightest, slickest, clinchingest pussy on the planet. As Trish ramped up towards another orgasm, the walls of her canal worked on his dick as if it were kneading bread dough. Jake gritted his teeth and concentrated on the odds of throwing three dice combinations to keep from cumming too soon.
Trish came again, loud and long. Jake thought that she definitely got her money's worth when she came, then concentrated on holding on as she thrashed around on the bed. Jake felt like one of the cowboys at the ranch trying to stay on a bucking bronco. When her motions subsided a bit, he pulled her legs over his shoulders. She looked up at him, barely able to focus her eyes.
"My turn," he said.
Jake started pounding her wonderful pussy as hard as he could. Trish grunted every time he bottomed out and whimpered when he withdrew. Trisha thought that for once she was being well and truly fucked. This was what had been missing from her love life.
"Oh yes, Jake," she wailed, "do me hard, baby. I'm going to cum again..."
Then she started quaking. Her orgasm made her hips move in just the right motion and her channel clamped down on his dick as if she wanted to detach it. That was it for Jake; he slammed into her and came with a force that measured on the Richter Scale. Trish's orgasm fed off his; when she felt him cum she went ballistic. Jake leaned forward and covered her mouth with his before someone called the police. They finally came down to earth. Jake put down her trembling legs and rolled to the side pulling her with him until she was nestled on his chest. They lay there for a few minutes getting their breath and wits back. Jake chuckled as he idly stroked her back.
"What are you laughing about?" Trish asked.
"I'm thinking that you are going to play hell getting rid of me," Jake replied.
"Ditto, Mr. Turner; your female situation, whatever it had been, just became more complicated. What are we going to do now?"
"We're going to make love again; then we are going into business together," Jake said.
She started to ask what sort of business but Jake cut her off by kissing her. His kiss instantly aroused her again and she reached down to grab his penis. She massaged him gently and was rewarded with an immediate erection. There was only one place she wanted him; she rolled onto her back and held up her arms.
"Come to Mama," she said.
Thirty minutes later, they were lying snuggled under the covers. Trish was toying with the sparse hair on Jake's chest.
"I've got a confession to make," Trish said.
Jake looked at her inquisitively.
"Spill it," he said.
"I didn't bump into you by accident, I was at the party specifically to meet you. I know a lot about you, Jake, from my talks with Cindy. She is one of the girls I counsel. I know about your coma and the changes you have made in your life. I even know about your ambitions. I can empathize with your situation because I woke up in this body in 1966 as someone I wasn't. Sound familiar?"
Jake stared at her, his mouth was suddenly dry, but his palms were suddenly sweaty.
"Tell me your story," he said warily.