Carter’s Hideout

When it gets tough out there...hide here with me.

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Sarah was sitting next me, a death grip on the armrests, as the plane we were in hit turbulence.  I chuckled.  It has been two months since she had joined the BID and became a Duchess of the Brotherhood and this was only the second time she has needed to travel.  That she was traveling with me, well that was a promise I made to her, even though we had made one trip together already. But that was to New York and was not a pleasant trip.  We were now flying into Baltimore to investigate complaints made against the lodge there.  Sarah was to be my partner at the gather for the weekend.

 

"Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of flying on our last trip?" I asked gently resting my hand on her arm.

 

"I didn't realize...oh fuck," Sarah cried as the plane dropped out of the sky. It stopped about a hundred feet down.  I was hoping that didn't happen on approach. "Anyway I was so mad I don't remember the flight going and I was so happy coming home, I don't remember it either."

 

"It's fine dear, really." I chuckled kissing her cheek.

 

Sarah just looked at me, venom in her eyes.  The plane again fell a few feet, then jumped back up. We would be descending into Baltimore within the next half hour.  It would be a bumpy ride. Sarah cried out as the plane bounced again.

 

"How can you sit there so calm?" Sarah asked me.

 

"I have spent my life flying.  And this is almost the smoothest ride I have ever had.  The worst was in a C130 flying into Korea. A downdraft hit the plane just as we were touching down.  Landing gear collapsed and we hit the ground hard.  Good thing a 130 is built to take something like that in stride.  It never flew again, but everyone on board survived.  One hundred and fifty souls lived  that day."

 

"Oh my god, why are you telling me that?" Sarah said shock on her face.  Her finger nails now digging into my arm.

 

"There is nothing to worry about.  The quicker you realize that the better you will be able to cope with flying."

 

"Aren't you afraid?"

 

"Of what?  Dying?  Of course.  But if it's going to happen, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it."

 

Sarah looked at me.  She nodded her head, she visibly calmed down. She released my arm and her seat arm.  She moved her hands to her lap and she took a deep breath, which she slowly let out.

 

"What do you do to keep from screaming?" she asked calmly.

 

"I usually sleep.  I found I can get to sleep much faster the more turbulent the flight."

 

Sarah laughed, looked at me and laughed again.  I smiled at her nodding. From that point forward she was never visibly afraid of flying again.  She took my hand in hers and held it without crushing the life out of it.

It happened and it was a surprise to both of us.  My wife, Connie, and I were vacationing on the white sands of Aruba on the north end of the island, when we met her.  She told us her name was Rio, that’s it, just Rio and she was beautiful, olive skin, dark, almost black hair, red lips and just enough hip to distinguish her from the little girls wandering the island.

 

We were sitting under a giant umbrella to keep the sun from turning us into living lobsters when from down the beach a vision of loveliness danced to the beat of the band. She mesmerized me. Looking over at my Connie, I saw she to, was enthralled by the beauty as moving to the music.  For next thirty minutes, Rio danced on the sand moving sensually to the beat of the music. When the band took a break she looked dejected, shoulders sagging, she looked around.  Walking toward us, she asked if she could share our shade.

 

Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight as she waited for our answer. Connie told her of course and indicated for Rio to take the empty lounge chair next to me. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She was wearing a bright yellow micro-bikini, so skimpy that it hardly left anything to the imagination.  As I gazed at her, her nipples popped out, tenting the two tiny patches of cloth covering them.  Connie cleared her throat.

 

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Susan.  Susan was…spectacular.  When I first saw her I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  She was that beautiful.

 

My friend Mark and I had stopped in the tavern across from campus to get a drink before hitting the books in our room.  We were roommates at college, seniors, a half of semester from graduation.  As we climbed onto the barstools we both stopped midway.  In the mirror behind the bar, was the reflection of an angel.  She sat in a booth against the wall behind us. 

 

“What’ll you have fellas?” the bartender asked us.

 

“Beer,” we both replied still watching that angel in the mirror.

 

The bartender set down two beers, Mark tossed a five on the bar.  In unison we both took a swig of our beer. I was gawking at the angel in the mirror, when I saw Mark slide into the empty seat across from her.  I almost slammed my fists down on the bar.  But to the winner go the spoils.

 

I don’t know what he said to her, but she smiled and started talking with him.  They hit it off. Within a week they were going out every Friday and Saturday nights.  All I could do is worship her from afar.  Yes, again, she was that gorgeous.  She had long brown hair, soft brown eyes, a killer smile, a nose just right for her face.  Her legs were long and slender, thin ankles and petite, pretty feet.  I’m not even a foot person, but her feet…well I could get off on just her feet.  Flat stomach, nice breasts, although she tended to wear baggy sweatshirts or loose fitting t-shirts, until she started going out with Mark.  On Friday and Saturday nights she was dressed completely different.  Tight leather skirts, form fitting silk blouses, nylons with high heels.  She was smokin’.  I lusted after.