AMATEUR XXX STORIES
-
ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:
A -
B -
C -
D -
E -
F -
G -
H -
I -
J -
K -
L -
M -
N -
O -
P -
Q -
R -
S -
T -
U -
V -
W -
X -
Y -
Z
thrillride
Thrill Ride
(c) Copyright 2001 by Wiseguy
The first time I rode on a roller coaster, I was eight
years old. My Frank dared me to do it, even said
he'd go along, so it seemed safe enough. He strapped me in
next to him in the front seat of an wooden-frame roller
coaster set halfway into a clump of trees, and off we went.
That 60-second ride seemed to last an hour and a half. I
remember the clanking sound of the pull chain dragging us
up to the first peak, and the sensation of my stomach
rising into my throat as we plunged down. I could feel the
wooden support structure flexing as we rounded the hairpin
turns, and see the trees whizzing by seemingly just inches
away. When the car plunged into a tunnel of some sort,
leaving me in total blackness with nothing but the
sensation of speed and the metal safety rail to connect me
to the physical world, I almost peed my pants.
When we got to the end, Frank slapped me on the back
proudly. "You were awesome, Jimmy boy," he said. "Not one
scream. You must have nerves of steel. How was it?"
I looked up at my big brother, gave him two thumbs up, and
then puked on his shoes.
Twenty years later, I found myself cruising down the
interstate toward Xtreme World, a brand new theme park.
Why the hell am I doing this, I asked myself.
The answer was simple: Mel, the incredibly attractive red-
headed lady in the passenger seat next to me, was seriously
into roller coasters and thrill rides of every sort, and I
wanted to be seriously into Mel. We'd been dating
casually for about six weeks, but things had been getting
cozier of late. Mel seemed to be getting very comfortable
around me, and our playful conversational banter had
started taking on a slight sexual flavor. She didn't
outright say it, but I got the impression from her
roommate, Joy, that this trip was a final compatibility
test -- if I passed, I'd be eligible for full-time consort
status.
So I pulled out all the stops. I went to the Xtreme World
web site and studied the online map, the publicity blurbs
on the various rides and attractions, the safety rules ...
the whole nine yards. I called up Frank and borrowed his
van for the weekend, knowing it would be more comfortable
for a long trip than either my pickup or Mel's Jetta.
The had been suitably impressed when I picked them up
at 6:00am that Saturday. "Nice," Mel had said, eyeing the
big, emerald-green vehicle. "I was expecting a minivan."
I grinned. "Frank despises minivans," I explained. "Where
he lives it's practically a requirement that anyone with 2
kids have one, but he'd give up his left nut before he'd
drive one of those pathetic things. This is a real van."
It certainly was: a 15-passenger conversion van complete
with raised ceiling, dark tinted windows for privacy, and
swiveling captain's chairs for the pilot and co-pilot.
Frank and his only had two kids; they didn't really
need the seating capacity, just lots of space to haul
around the kids with their sports gear, so Frank and I made
a few customizations. We removed three of the four bench
seats to open up floor space. In their place, along the
left side of the interior, we installed a long, deep wooden
bench with a hinged lid, taking advantage of the existing
floor cleats to secure it in place. The bench provided a
closed storage space for gear or groceries, and in a pinch
could seat several passengers comfortably using genuine GM
lap belts we bought from a parts dealer. The open space
remaining was roughly the size of a compact pickup's box,
which made the van handy for carting around large objects
from furniture to sheets of plywood to dirt bikes.
For our trip, the back area was empty. We used the bench
to stow a large cooler containing sandwiches and drinks --
none of us had been to Xtreme World before, but we assumed
that any food available there would be grossly overpriced -
- and duffle bags containing a change of clothes for each
of us.
The trip was a quiet one. Joy happily stretched out on the
bench seat and went to sleep as soon as we got onto the
highway. Mel took advantage of the reclining passenger
seat and cat-napped as well, waking every so often to check
our progress on the map.
We pulled into the parking lot at 8:50, which gave us 40
minutes to kill before the gates opened. There was already
a crowd at the ticket pavilion, so we dropped Mel there to
get our tickets while I started the hunt for a parking
space. Finding one big enough to accommodate the van was
not easy, but after some searching I settled on a spot at
the far end of Row 7C, where we would have some extra space
to the right for the main doors.
One advantage to a full-sized van is that it's pretty easy
to spot in a crowded lot. Mel found us easily, smiling and
waving the tickets as she approached. She also had a
printed map of the park, which we spread out on the floor
to finalize our strategy.
Xtreme World was divided into three sections: Xtreme Kidz,
an area featuring basic rides aimed at the ones; Wet
'n' Wild, where all the rides were water based (Appropriate
attire strongly recommended, the map noted); and Hardcore
Haven, which catered to hardened thrill-seekers like Mel.
Since we were already wearing bathing suits under our
clothes, we elected to start out in the water park area.
When we were sufficiently water-logged, we'd come back out
to the van to have a light picnic lunch and change into dry
clothes, then hit the hardcore section for as long as our
stomachs could stand it.
Before we noticed the time passing, we heard an air horn
blast signaling the opening of the gates. We quickly
secured everything we didn't absolutely need inside the
bench out of sight, locked up, and joined the crowd flowing
into the gates. Mel handed each of us a purple plastic
bracelet, which we were to wear on our right wrists. "It's
a VIP pass," she explained. "They cost extra, but you get
to use special VIP lines for the rides -- they're supposed
to be a lot shorter."
Bracelets in place, we strolled quickly past the clowns and
cartoon characters that marked the Xtreme Kidz zone and
followed the blue arrows on the pavement which would lead
us to Wet 'n' Wild.
The first test of my nerve came as soon as we found the
entrance. To our right a set of steps made of wood and
metal, like playground equipment, wound gently downhill.
Ten feet of flat walkway would lead to five or ten steps,
followed by more level space, then more steps ... I lost
count of the steps, but it was a very long way down. Slow,
too -- the walkway was full of people more or less standing
still as they waited for the slower ones to make the
descent.
Or, cheery signs pointed out, the more adventurous could
choose to "Get Wet Right Away!". Left of the stairway
entrance, eight plastic-coated chutes awaited the
impatient. Attendants at the top of the chutes were
checking people's height and handing out plastic sacks with
drawstrings, in which people were placing their shoes and
purses for what promised to be a fast ride down. I tried
to get a look over the edge to see how fast, but the safety
rail kept me too far back.
Mel had a devil-may-care look on her face as she angled
toward the opening for the chutes. Joy hesitated just a
moment, then followed. What could I do but run over to
join them?
I dutifully secured my loose belongings in one of the
plastic drawstring bags, looping the string over my wrist a
couple of times for safekeeping. Sitting down at the top
of the slide, I finally got a good look at the bottom: the
slide went straight down at an insanely steep angle, then
leveled out for a bit and took a final drop into a wide,
round area walled with round bumpers. I could see bodies
rushing out the bottoms of the slides, arms up and legs
splayed, and collecting around the bumpers.
I froze. This is insane, I said to myself. What rational
human being would want to fall a and a half and land
in a pile of other bodies? To my left, I heard a loud cry
as Joy launched herself down the chute. I watched
spellbound as her body rocketed down the straight drop and
shot across the flat, then disappeared for a second before
I saw her hit the bumper. Was she moving?
"Are you going down, sir? We need to keep things moving up
here."
The attendant's voice startled me. "Uh, yeah," I stammered
weakly. "Here goes."
From the next lane over, Mel reached over and squeezed my
hand. "C'mon, stud," she dared me. "Race you to the
bottom." There was a sparkle in her eyes that seemed
immune to all misfortune. I saw her start to push off, and
knew it was now or never.
I pushed off just behind her and felt the world drop away.
My arms flew up of their own accord, and I felt the cool
rush of air and water running up my shorts. The plateau
was smoother than I thought, with a nice gentle curve
making for an easy transition from almost falling to almost
riding. I felt myself slowing a bit, looked around for
Mel, but saw nothing but blue bumper and sky as the bottom
dropped out again. If not for the feel of the water and
the smooth plastic chute on my back I would have sworn I
was free falling. The chute curved ever so slightly and
cradled me, caught me as I slowed and turned out. Before I
could completely understand what was happening I was on my
back, sliding gently into a soft round bumper at the end of
the slide. I grabbed the bumper and started to get up, but
my legs were rubber.
"Incoming!" I heard Mel's voice and turned to see her
sliding toward me feet first. I scooted back a bit and she
landed neatly under my left arm, letting the momentum carry
her into a sitting position. "Hooo-eee!" she cried. "Now
that's what I call an express lane!"
As we climbed over the bumper to make way for the next
round of falling bodies, I noticed that my vision seemed
sharper and clearer; colors were richer, lines better
defined; and the air as I breathed it in tasted better.
Then again, maybe that was because I had a sexy redhead
next to me in a wet, tight-fitting tank suit.
I admired Mel's athletic form as she bent to put on her
sandals. Others around us were showing more skin, but the
black tankini Mel was wearing worked beautifully for her.
The top fit around her ribs and bust like a second skin,
leaving every curve clearly defined. Denim cut-off shorts
kept me from seeing much below the bare midriff, but that
just gave my imagination something to work on.
"If those eyes were hands, you could get arrested," Joy
remarked, coming up from behind me. She was in a bright
red strapless one-piece with a short wraparound skirt
hugging her hips.
"I'd just plead insanity," I replied, nodding my head back
toward the water slide. "Throw myself on the mercy of the
court and beg for leniency."
Mel winked and pulled me in for a lusty kiss. "You'll
beg," she promised, "but not just yet." Teasingly, she
wiggled her butt and marched on to the next ride, pulling
me along by the hand.
It was called the DeLuge. It looked like a giant luge
track except there was no snow or ice anywhere, just the
blue-green chute itself sitting above a pool of water.
Every few seconds a dark shape rushed through, the sounds
of rushing water and human screams trailing behind. The
line started a good hundred feet before the gate; I could
see the unbroken trail of bodies filling up the customary
rat-maze leading to the platform itself.
"Shit," I muttered, covering up the relief I felt at seeing
the long line. "It'll be two hours before we get to the
end of this."
Mel grinned broadly. "Au contraire, my intrepid one," she
said, holding up her wrist with the purple bracelet on it.
"We are prepared."
I looked down at my own wrist and regarded the plastic
bracelet. Very Intense Player, it said in big, bold
letters. We'll see, was my silent reply.
Sure enough, we walked past the end of the line and found a
purple VIP sign directing us to a different entrance. A
purple stripe on the floor led us on a short, straight path
in full view of the waiting masses and up to the platform.
There were a grand total of twelve people ahead of us.
"This is awesome, isn't it?" Mel asked me, her eyes bright
with excitement.
"It's something else," I replied, looking at the miserable
people in the long line. "I wonder why more of them didn't
buy these bracelets."
"They can't," Mel explained. "The park only sells a
limited number of these each day; I was lucky to be able to
get them."
"How limited?" I wondered out loud.
"Very limited," said a female voice. I turned and saw
another party had come up behind us. The speaker was a
young brunette, maybe 19 from the looks of her. She wore a
thin mesh athletic over a minimal dark green bikini.
"One hundred can be sold before the gates open. Another
fifty go on sale at noon, 2:00pm, and 4:00pm. The theory
is, much more than that and the VIP's will have to wait too
long for rides."
"Does it work?"
"So far," she replied. "One thing, though: if you leave
the park for any reason, you're supposed to give back the
pass and you can't get another unless you manage to score a
new one. So don't go out to your car until you're done for
the day." The looked around, leaned toward us a
little more and lowered her voice. "Or, take the bracelets
off and stuff them into a pocket before you get near the
gate. But don't let any of the park staff see you do it."
We nodded discreetly and thanked our co-conspirator for the
tip. A rushing water sound called our attention back to
the platform, where an empty carrier had appeared. It was
our turn already.
The carrier looked like a cross between a luge sled and an
oversized kayak. It had a cigar-shaped fiberglass body and
a long bench seat running up the middle. An attendant
checked our bracelets, making sure that day's date was
marked on them in permanent marker, and had us sit
straddling the bench and lean way back. I was in the rear,
with Mel sitting between my legs and Joy between Mel's. A
pair of steel bars were brought down along each side. "You
can hold on to each other," the attendant told us, "or to
the bars. It doesn't really matter which, because once
this baby gets going you won't be able to fall out anyway.
Keep your hands inside the pod at all times, and have fun."
Feeling bold, I snaked my hands around Mel's waist and
locked the fingers together just below her breasts. "Just
watch what you grab onto," Mel warned me with a wink and a
smile. She got a firm grip on my legs, and Joy grabbed
onto the bars. "Ready," Mel announced to the attendant.
He gave a thumbs-up sign to someone out of my view, and
with a slight lunge the capsule started forward.
It started out faster than I expected, but smooth. I felt
the sensation of being pulled up a hill, which was fairly
accurate. There was time for me to note that the capsule
was almost the full width of the channel in which we rode;
the water and a few rollers seemed to be all that kept us
from scraping the walls.
The sound of rushing water grew louder as we crested the
hill, and then the ride began for real. We saw the
waterfall seconds before our pod took us through it,
getting us soaked in the downpour. As soon as we were
clear the track dropped and went hurtling downward, the
rushing water sound drowning out everything else as the
volume of water in the channel more than doubled. So this
is what getting washed down a drainpipe feels like, I
thought as the little pod careened around bends, swaying
wildly from side to side as it banked with the turns, the
forces at work pressing Mel's body against mine. We took
another plunge downward and entered a corkscrew-like
section that looped us around at least three or four times.
Finally we started to slow, our momentum carrying us up a
gentle incline and back to the platform where we stopped.
The safety bars clicked and swung out of the way.
Mel tilted her head back to me. "Ahem," she said, patting
my arms. That's when I realized that during the ride my
hands had crept upward several inches and were now firmly
lifting up on her breasts.
I whipped them out of the way instantly. "I'm sorry, Mel,"
I stammered. "I swear that was not intentional." I could
feel my face turning beet red.
Mel gave me another of those enigmatic smiles. "Of course
not," she agreed, a touch of laughter in her voice. Then I
felt her hands slide over my legs and up my thighs until
they were just inside the leg openings of my trunks. Her
fingers spread out wide and squeezed as she pushed herself
up. Fortunately for me the attendant was too busy looking
at Joy and Mel to notice my sudden hard-on.
Next on the agenda was the Paddle Wheel, a huge contraption
that looked like the back end of an old-fashioned river
boat. It turned out to be something like a ferris wheel --
we sat together in a carrier attached to the rim of a wide
wheel which carried us up and around in circles. At the
bottom of every revolution it dipped us waist-deep into the
water, carrying water and us to the top. At the top the
carrier tipped backward, dumping the water onto the
unsuspecting heads of the people a few carriers back.
After the wild ride we'd had in the DeLuge, it was a bit of
a letdown.
The next attraction made up for it. The River Chase had us
securely fastened into what looked like a high-tech speed
boat. The boat took off quickly and fell in just behind
another like it, going quickly to full throttle. We felt
the boat banging up and down against the waves as we raced
down a narrow creek, apparently in pursuit of the boats
ahead of us.
Then the fun really began: just ahead, I spotted the
unmistakable figure of a swimming in the creek. We
were heading straight for him. Joy screamed and turned
her head, anticipating a sickening impact, but the boat
suddenly lurched and swerved, just barely missing the
swimmer.
"Holy shit!" I cried, looking back to see if the was
okay. He was fine -- in fact, he was back in his original
position, apparently waiting for the next boat to cross his
path. "Jesus," I said. "It was just a dummy."
Mel leaned over to me and shouted to make herself heard
over the din of the motor. "Who cares?" she replied.
"This is great! It's like being in an action movie."
Our boat picked up even more speed and the creek bent to
the left, narrowing slightly. At intervals a floating log,
a boulder, and an animatronic alligator turned up in our
path, forcing our boat to execute a split-second maneuver
to avoid catastrophe. We came upon a short drop and the
boat went briefly airborne, landing back in the water with
a crash and a thud, losing no speed at all in the process.
The creek took us into a tunnel, leaving us in total
blackness for a few seconds, then through a wall of falling
water and back to our starting dock.
Mel was glowing as we climbed out of the boat. "Hooo-eee!
I love this place!"
"This is awesome," I agreed. Looking at her, seeing the
incredible charge in her eyes and the flush of excitement
in her face, had me starting to understand a little bit of
her attraction to the rides. After jumping off a cliff,
getting flushed down a huge drainpipe, and taking part in a
pseudo-death-defying speedboat chase, I was feeling pretty
pumped up myself.
Poor Joy, on the other hand, was looking a little green.
"I need a break, guys," she pleaded.
"You okay?" I asked, concerned.
"I will be. Just give me twenty minutes to sit on
something that doesn't move."
We found Joy a nice, dry, permanently fixed bench to sit on
and recuperate while Mel and I braved something called the
TurboLift. From a distance, it looked like a huge water
tower with big, round chutes winding around it from the top
to the ground. Every few seconds a burst of water shot out
of the top of the tower along with a body. We couldn't see
what happened to the body from the ground, but I had a
pretty good idea that was what the spiral chute was for.
Once again, thanks to our purple bracelets there was hardly
any time wasted waiting. We reached the base of the tower
and were ushered into a separate entrance by the waiting
attendants.
Mel went first. A female attendant handed her an oversized
inner tube, small on the inside but very wide, and helped
Mel put it on so it rode just below her breasts, giving her
some verbal instructions I didn't hear. She had Mel step
through a large metal door with a porthole and closed it
behind her, turning an impressive-looking wheel several
times until she seemed satisfied that the door was tight.
I could see Mel's face and some of her upper body through
the porthole in the door; she adjusted something on the
rubber tube and then gave the attendant the thumbs-up sign.
The attendant held up three fingers, then two, then one,
and hit a large button next to the door. I heard a
faint engine sound, saw Mel seem to tense, and then she
lifted straight up and out of sight -- the only thing left
behind the door was a solid column of water.
The water receded quickly; a green light above the door
came on and the attendant opened the door. "Ready?" she
asked, looking at me.
"I guess so," I replied, less than convinced.
She chuckled. "Relax," she told me. "This is my favorite
ride -- it's a major kick." I stepped forward and she
handed me another of the oversized inner tubes, which I
quickly stepped into. "Get this nice and firmly seated
just under your armpits," she instructed me. "Once you're
inside the chamber, pull on this cord and the tube will
inflate so it seals up the space around you. Take a quick
peek around, make sure you can't see any gaps around you;
if it looks right, give me a thumbs up. I'll count three
and then off you go. Got it?"
"Got it." I stepped into the chamber where Mel had been
just a minute before. It reminded me of the barrel of a
gun: smooth walls, carefully polished and perfectly
cylindrical, with a very slight groove spiraling up the
inside. I found the cord the attendant had shown me and
tugged on it. The tube hissed and expanded, filling up all
available space between my body and the walls of the tower.
I looked through the porthole at the attendant and gave her
the signal; she counted down three and hit the button.
I heard the engine noises again, much louder this time, and
within seconds my entire body below the inner tube was
under water. I felt pressure against my legs and stomach
as the water kept rushing in, meeting resistance from my
weight and the inner tube around my chest. My feet lifted
slowly off the floor, and then in a sudden rush I was
shooting straight upward, twisting slowly in a spiral. The
speed picked up, and I looked up to see the sky coming
toward me at a breakneck pace. I shot straight up out of
the top of the tower, the water spraying around me, and for
one brief moment had a spectacular view of the entire park.
Then gravity reasserted itself. I landed on my butt on a
slippery side of the tower's peak and slid downward. A
subtle grooving in the tower surface channeled me toward
the opening of a tubular slide. My arms went high over my
head as I plunged into the spiral and began spinning again,
the rubber doughnut guiding me smoothly down the track.
After an eternity of spinning and falling, the track ended
and I landed softly in a small, shallow pool with more of
those large inflated bumpers to break my fall.
I shook my head to clear it, looked around, and found Mel
beaming at me. "Helluva ride, wasn't it?"
"Oh, yeah," I agreed, still trying to figure out how to
make my legs work again. "Thrill a minute."
Mel laughed and helped me up. She reached under my inner
tube and worked a valve of some sort, causing it to
deflate. "Ready for more?" Mel asked me as we handed my
tube to an attendant.
"Sure thing," I lied, breathless and dizzy but very happy
to be leaning on that luscious body for support.
She laughed again, that wild and unpredictable laugh.
"Well I've about had it with being soaked," she replied.
"What do you say we collect Joy, get some dry clothes and
have lunch?"
"Okay," I deadpanned, "if you're sure."
Mel stopped laughing and gave me a bear hug. "You've been
a great sport," she said sincerely. "It's okay to let me
know if I'm pushing you too far."
I smiled back weakly and managed not to puke.
We found Joy huddled on her bench, looking a little better
than when we had left her. "Do you know what I discovered
sitting here?" she asked us. "That it's not nearly warm
enough yet to be sitting still in a wet bathing suit."
Layers of goose bumps testified to her need for a little
warmth and dryness. When we told her our plans, she was
more than ready to join in. We ducked into the restrooms
and quietly removed our bracelets, then headed out to the
van, getting our left hands stamped to allow us to reenter
the park after lunch. Nobody gave us a second look.
By the time we reached the van we were all shivering
slightly, the breeze reminding us that it was spring, not
summer. I took out a large mylar sun screen and placed it
across the windshield; between that and the dark tinted
side windows, we would have as much privacy as we could
reasonably expect in a parking lot. I offered to let the
ladies change first, and was mildly disappointed when they
didn't invite me in with them. I was a good sport, though;
I turned around and leaned my back against the main door,
innocently watching the fence across the lane from us.
Okay, maybe not so innocently. A hint of movement drew my
eye to the side view mirror just in time to see Mel's
reflection as she pulled on a skimpy black pair of panties.
I caught a splendid three-quarters view of her bottom and
side, including the side of a breast, and my eyes feasted
on it. I hadn't seen Mel before in anything less than her
tank suit, so the illicit view of all that beautiful skin
was irresistible. It was also a mild form of torture:
part of me knew that I should look away, and part of me
kept hoping she would turn around just a little more before
she put anything else on.
Then the prurient thrill turned to horror as Mel's head
turned and our eyes met in the mirror. She gave me a
steely gaze; an arm came up to cover her breasts, and she
wagged an admonishing finger at me. I cringed and looked
away, not daring to turn my head again until the van door
clicked open behind me. Mel and Joy jumped out, dressed
for action in shorts and T-shirts. Mel put her mouth near
my ear. "That's two demerits, mister," she whispered. I
couldn't tell if she was serious or joking.
I found out a minute or so later, when I unzipped my duffle
bag to get out my clean clothes and they weren't there. I
crawled around the van, stark naked, checking under the
seats, inside the bench, anywhere I could think of. Then I
saw Mel watching me in the side view mirror with a catlike
grin on her face. The front passenger door popped open and
she leaned in, poking her head between the seats. "Nice
butt," she said with a wink while I hastily shielded Big
Jim and the twins with my hands. She tossed my clothes
over; for a second I reached out to catch them, then
overrode the instinct and covered up again. "Very nice,"
she remarked.
"Two demerits," I croaked, trying to be nonchalant and
failing.
"So now we're even," she countered. With a quick leer and
a lusty wink, she withdrew and shut the door behind her.
I dressed quickly in shorts and a polo shirt, then opened
up the bench and set up for lunch. I laid a picnic blanket
on the floor and spread it out along with some paper
plates, plastic cups, napkins, and condiments. When all
was ready, I threw open the side doors and announced,
"Café Jimmy is now open, ladies!"
Joy and Mel came inside and sat cross-legged on the floor.
I passed out home-made subs -- roast beef for Mel, tuna for
Joy, Italian cold cut for myself -- then opened a big bag
of chips and set it down in the middle of the blanket area.
I then flipped open the cooler and grabbed a perfectly
chilled bottle of Sam Adams for each of us.
"You look a lot better," Mel said to Joy when the subs had
been consumed and appreciated.
Joy took a swig of her beer and agreed. "I'm fine now. I
should have known better than to get on that stupid boat
anyway." She caught the puzzled expression on my face and
explained. "Mel's been taking me to these things for
years. I can handle being flipped over, spun around, shot
out of a cannon, whatever ... but boats are my Achilles
heel. Get me on a boat and if the ride isn't smooth as
glass my insides just turn to clay."
"It's okay," Mel said. "Everybody's got one thing they
just can't stand."
"Oh, really?" I said. "What's yours?"
Mel shot me a warning look. "Never you mind." Looking
just as sternly at Joy, she added, "And don't you even
think about telling him."
Before long we were finished with lunch and had the
remnants put away. We locked up the van and went back into
the park, this time veering left toward the Hardcore Haven
section. Once clear of the entrance we ducked into the
restrooms and put our purple bracelets back on. Mel hadn't
said how much extra they cost, but they were certainly
worth it for the time we hadn't spent standing in endless
lines. So far this had been the most enjoyable theme park
trip I'd ever taken. Of course the company had a lot to do
with that, too.
The first thing that caught our collective eye inside the
Hardcore Haven area was an attraction called Road Rage. It
was obviously a bumper car setup, but once we were inside
the VIP line area we could see these were not ordinary
bumper cars. For one thing, they were a lot faster than
any bumper cars I remembered seeing -- they fairly zinged
around a 5-lane looping track at least the size of a
football field. The drivers wore helmets and dual shoulder
straps, and rode one to a car. As if that weren't enough,
each car also had a hood-mounted cannon that shot bright
yellow balls at whatever car or person was in front it. We
watched open-mouthed as dogfights broke out between the
riders, each one trying to maneuver into position behind
someone else and open fire. In between rides, a small army
of attendants gathered up the loose balls and reloaded each
car through a small hatch in the back.
When our turn came, I jumped into a silver car styled to
look like a toy version of a Shelby Mustang. "I know we
have a history, Eleanor," I said, patting the dashboard,
"and it hasn't always been good. But you take care of me,
and I'll take care of you."
Next to me, Mel broke out into raucous laughter. "I hope
for your sake that 'Eleanor' didn't see that movie." She
had chosen a dark green car that looked vaguely like a
Barracuda. A little further up I saw Joy settle into a
white VW Bug replica.
As the attendants walked among us, making sure we all had
our helmets on, I familiarized myself with Eleanor's
controls. Other bumper cars I'd been in had only a
steering wheel and accelerator; these cars, I discovered,
also had a working brake pedal, side mirrors, and a
FIRE button on either side of the steering wheel, easily
accessible to either thumb. The helmet had a clear plastic
face shield, lots of foam padding on the inside, and was
tethered to the pole that ran up behind me to the
electrical grid in the ceiling. The arm straps looped
around my shoulders and gave me just enough slack that I
could move freely and lean forward a little bit.
An attendant picked up a microphone and gave us all the
standard safety lecture. "For your own safety, please keep
your helmets on and arms inside the vehicle at all times
until all cars have come to a complete stop. Please note
that the track has an inner and an outer loop; you can
switch between loops as often as you like, but always keep
moving in a counterclockwise direction. Your cannons have
between 10 and 15 shots in them. That's all you get -- do
not try to retrieve balls and reload yourself. Is everyone
ready?" There was a general chorus of agreement. "Then,
go!"
The attendant threw a switch and I heard a deep-throated
growl coming from a speaker on the dash -- canned engine
noise. I floored the gas pedal and was surprised at how
quickly Eleanor responded. The steering was very tight,
which took a little getting used to. I was cruising along,
minding my own business, when a yellow ball whizzed by my
shoulder, missing me by inches. I turned my head as best I
could, then remembered the mirror: just behind me was the
green Barracuda. I swerved right as she fired again and
missed. The chase was on.
I cut in quickly to the left, putting a car between me and
Mel. The driver, a teenage guy, flipped me the bird and
took a shot, which hit me squarely on the right shoulder.
It stung enough to get my attention and made me want to get
him back. I swerved left just a little, then slammed on
the brakes and veered right. The kid, in a black toy
Porsche, caromed off my right side and spun just a little
bit. I hit my Fire button and took great pleasure in
seeing my ball bounce off his side. Seeing him wince, I
stomped on the gas and fired again, this time hitting him
on the arm. He saw me coming at him and started to move,
but he was too late -- I rammed him at full throttle and
sent him spinning to the outside of the track area. By the
time he regained control I was long gone.
The and mouse with Mel continued for another lap or
two. She did her best to get behind me, I did my best to
keep the angle bad or to get someone else in between us.
Then I thought of a plan. The course consisted of an outer
main loop and a smaller inside loop; from the air it might
look a little like a of an eye. There were two
places where the inside loop touched the outer, allowing
cars to change loops. I moved to left center lane,
expecting Mel to follow and she did. When we came up to
the merge point I waited until the last possible second,
then cut sharply across two lanes and into the inner loop.
Mel tried to follow, but another car got in the way and she
had to stay on the outer loop. I watched her, gauging our
relative speed. If I could time it just right ...
I did. As Mel approached the interchange area on the other
side, I was just coming around the inner turn. She saw me
and realized I had her beat. She moved as if to join the
inner loop, but at the last second veered back onto the
outer loop. It didn't matter -- I pulled into the outer
loop easily and gunned it. Now I was the one doing the
hunting. My first shot grazed Mel's left arm. I was
lining up for another when I saw her point to the far side
of the track.
Joy was over there. Her white Bug had turned sideways, and
there was another car pushing her with its nose against the
side, firing its cannon and hitting Joy at point-blank
range: a black Porsche.
I gave Mel the thumbs-up sign and broke off pursuit.
Instead, I hit the inner loop for a half-lap and came out
on the other side just a shade behind the Porsche. Joy was
trying to get clear but having trouble doing it with yellow
balls smacking into her every few seconds. I aimed Eleanor
at the asshole's left front corner and floored the pedal.
The thud as I rammed him was pretty satisfying in and of
itself, but even more so was the second thump as I drove
the Porsche into the short wall marking the bounds of the
track. The kid (it was the same kid) took a shot, which
was stupid because he wasn't in anything close to a good
position; his shot just sailed over Eleanor's hood and hit
the netting at the edge of the pavilion, which was probably
put there for just that reason. He jumped up in his seat
and yelled, "Asshole!" at me, then yelped as a yellow ball
struck him in the side.
"Thanks!" Joy called, then she turned herself around and
sped away.
I kept the asshole jammed against the side for another
second or so, then turned the wheel and took off. As I
expected, he followed me. I played him, letting him get a
half-decent shooting angle and then veering away. He
wasted two more shots without even getting close, then
stopped shooting. I figured he might be out and was
looking for a chance to ram me. What he didn't realize was
that while he was stalking me, Mel and Joy were both
stalking him. When I saw them on his flanks, I thought of
a great way to finish him off. I sped up, giving Eleanor
everything she had, until we were on the straightaway, then
slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel as hard as I
could. Eleanor spun 180 degrees. I took my foot off the
brake and let the Porsche bump me, then fired at him. The
ball hit him right on the collarbone. I hit the brakes and
fired again for another direct hit. Then Porsche
squirmed and shrieked as he was hit from behind by two more
balls from Joy and Mel. I would have been content to keep
that up for a while, but after another volley Mel pulled
out and drove off, waving for me and Joy to follow. At
the first opening in traffic I steered hard right and
floored it, pushing the Porsche back a little and getting
myself turned in the right direction again. The kid didn't
follow us this time.
When the ride ended shortly after, and our cars slowed to a
halt within a few feet of each other, we jumped out and
shared a triumphant 3-way hug. "We rock!" Mel exclaimed.
"We completely, totally rock!" We walked out the exit arm
in arm while Porsche shuffled out alone, mumbling to
himself.
I think we were all on an adrenaline high because we went
right into the next ride, called Dark Territory, without
even looking to see what it was first. A little voice in
the back of my head tried to worry a bit when the
attendants asked if any of us were epileptic, but it was
drowned out by lingering bravado from the Road Rage ride.
Soon we were settled into an open 4-seat carriage with the
usual safety bars, ready to go.
The carriage pulled away from the platform and into a dark
tunnel. Mel's hand found mine and clutched it tightly.
"You okay?" I asked her, surprised.
"I don't know yet," she said, "but I've got a bad feeling
about this one."
A series of blue-white lights winked on, surrounding us as
we traveled deeper into the tunnel. They seemed to be
moving in slow circles, creating the impression of a long,
slow spiral encircling the moving carriage. They made
sensing direction nearly impossible. "This isn't so bad,"
I said encouragingly to Mel.
As if I'd spoken a cue, at that moment three things
happened: the lights went out, leaving us in total
darkness; a blood-curdling scream filled the passage,
seeming to come from all directions at once; and the
carriage suddenly plunged downward, accelerating quickly to
breakneck speed. I heard Mel say, "Oh, shit!" and felt her
hand clamp down on mine.
We kept dropping and picking up speed for what felt like an
eternity, then suddenly -- every movement is sudden when
you can't see it coming -- the carriage turned sharply and
seemed to level out. A huge pair of gleaming yellow eyes
appeared ahead of us, approaching swiftly. Just as we
reached the eyes, they winked out and a fierce roar
the air around us. Only the metal safety bar prevented Mel
from jumping into my lap.
The ride continued this way, alternately teasing us with
ominous visuals and startling us with chilling sound
effects. Mel held onto me like a lamprey, keeping very
still and not letting up on her grip for a second. The
temperature got suddenly warm as the carriage took one
final dive, then a huge fireball seemed to burst in the
air ahead of us and stay there. The carriage ducked below
the fireball and then, to our collective horror, looped up
and over it. The ride slowed during the loop, leaving us
with a second sensation of hovering over the top of
the flame, before straightening out and taking us back into
daylight, where the end platform awaited us.
Mel put on a good show for the attendants, smiling and
laughing as we strolled away, but I could tell she was
shaken. "Jesus Christ, Mel," Joy said, seeing the
marks on my arm. Then, to me, she added, "I hope you don't
bruise easily. "
"Shut up, Joy." Mel's voice was tense and ragged.
This wasn't good. I spotted a concession stand with picnic
tables nearby, and without another word I steered us in
that direction. I sat the down, paid way too much
for three plastic cups of generic mass-produced beer, and
brought them back to the table. "Doctor Jimmy says drink
these now."
We sat and drank, and in a few minutes Mel seemed a little
more at ease. "Do you want to tell me what that was
about?" I asked her.
She took another long pull form her cup before answering.
"Not really," she answered, "but since I've scarred you for
life I suppose I owe it to you." There was the faintest
hint of her old, playful smile behind the words; that was
encouraging.
I checked out my forearm: the marks were already
fading. "Not for life," I said, "just for the next few
minutes. I can butt out if you want me to."
That got me a real smile. "You've earned it anyway," she
told me. "Remember how Joy was saying earlier that she
can't take rough boat rides? Well, I have a problem with
things jumping out at me in the dark. I can handle just
about anything if I can see it coming, but the nasty
surprises in that last ride really put me off."
"I'm sorry," I said because it felt right.
"Don't be. None of us looked ahead to see what Dark
Territory was. Besides, you were right there for me and
let me cling to you like grim death. Thank you for that."
"So now what do we do?"
Mel looked at our empty cups. "One more round, I think,"
she said. "My treat. Then, on to the next ride."
By the time we finished our second round, we were feeling
pretty mellow again and all was forgiven. We strolled up
the path and into the purple VIP entrance of an attraction
called The Turbine, a gleaming silver saucer that rose up
and down between two pillars.
We were able to get on immediately. An attendant ushered
us in through a big aircraft-style door and into a huge
circular chamber maybe 25 feet across with no ceiling. We
each looped our arms through simple safety straps and stood
with our backs against the wall of the chamber. When the
chamber was full, with people lining the entire
circumference, the attendant left us and shut the door
behind her.
A few seconds later, the whole chamber began to move.
Slowly at first, then pickup up speed, the chamber and
everyone in it began to revolve around an unseen pivot
point in the center. As the speed increased I felt the
outward force holding me against the wall. Soon I had the
uneasy feeling that I couldn't pull myself away from the
wall if I wanted to. At that point a voice announced,
"Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for liftoff."
I wasn't sure what preparing for liftoff was supposed to
entail -- I couldn't move a muscle anyway, thanks to the
unseen forces holding me against the wall -- but I don't
think anything could have prepared me for what happened
next: the floor detached from the chamber and seemed to
sink away. It took me a moment before I realized that the
floor wasn't sinking, the rest of the chamber was rising.
I stood there, pinned to the wall, while the chamber
ascended to the top of the pillars. The sight of the
ground below spinning wildly was dizzying.
As if being spun in a circle a hundred feet in the air
weren't disorienting enough, a hydraulic hum heralded yet
another change, and within a few seconds the view under my
feet was that of white clouds circling in the sky. The
chamber remained upside down for a short time, then began
to tilt again. It flipped a slow 180 degrees, bringing us
right-side up again, but didn't stop; instead if continued
to revolve slowly, spinning us now in two directions like a
giant centrifuge on a spit. A weird sort of euphoria came
over me as I gave up trying to figure out which end was up.
I came back to my senses when the rolling motion stopped
and the chamber began to sink slowly to the ground. Soon
there was a floor touching my feet again, and the invisible
force holding me to the wall softened. The ride came to a
very gradual stop, but even still it was several seconds
before I trusted my legs enough to let go of the safety
straps.
The three of us walked away from the Turbine arm in arm,
feeling ten feet tall and an inch wide. I figured at any
moment I'd be getting another look at those beers we drank
before the ride, but the only one of us that really looked
pallid was Joy. Mel's entire face and neck were flushed,
and her hand gripped mine firmly. "Next?" Mel said,
grinning at both of us.
Joy pointed to one of the many wooden benches Xtreme World
had been kind enough to place near the exit to the Turbine.
"The only thing I'm riding for at least the next few
minutes is that," she declared. "Unless, of course, one of
you wants to be wearing my lunch."
Mel laughed. "Okay, you win. Pit stop time." She veered
off toward a nearby restroom structure, tugging me along
behind her. Joy let go and plopped down on a bench.
I hoofed it to keep up with Mel lest she separate my
shoulder by accident. "You planning on taking me into the
bathroom with you?" I asked. "Someone might object."
"We're not going to the bathroom." Instead, she led me
past the women's entrance and around to the back of the
stone structure. She pressed her body against mine,
wrapping her arms around me, and our mouths met in a hot,
hungry kiss. Her lips melted into mine and parted,
allowing our tongues to explore each other freely. I felt
my dick stiffening rapidly in my shorts, seeking the warm
spot I knew was only a few layers of cloth away where Mel's
groin pressed against mine. Her hands caressed my back and
mine followed suit, feeling their way across her beautiful,
smooth back through the cotton T-shirt. There was a quick
tug, and then Mel's hands had slipped under my shirt,
lifting it, snaking underneath, making my skin tingle and
my knees go weak.
I slid down to a sitting position with my back against the
stone wall. Mel stayed with me, keeping our mouths locked
together, straddling me as I sat. I pulled the T-shirt
loose from her waistband and slipped my hands inside it.
Her skin was smooth and soft and warm, just as I'd imagined
it must be. My fingers brushed the clasp of her bra. Mel
nodded, so I fumbled for a few seconds until it came free
and then slid my hands around to the front to cup her
breasts. The nipples were firm and hard and standing tall.
I rolled them between my fingers for a second and thrilled
to hear the hitch in her breath as she let out a short
moan. Mel shifted back a little bit, opened my zipper, and
reached a hand inside my shorts. Her fingers traced the
outline of my bulging package and squeezed in just the
right spot.
"Mmmmmmm," Mel moaned. "This is going to feel so good
inside me." My groan of agreement turned to dismay when
Mel stood up. "Not here," she said. "I don't want to have
to rush."
"You're right," I grudgingly agreed, standing up. "I can
wait a little longer."
Mel grinned at me with that devilish light in her eyes.
Slowly, deliberately, she reached into her sleeves and
pulled out the straps of her bra, slipping them over her
hands. Then she reached in under the front of her
and pulled the bra out. Carefully and neatly, she folded
the cups together and tucked the straps inside. "Hold on
to this for me, will you?" she asked.
"Sure," I replied, puzzled.
Still grinning, she grabbed the front of my shorts and
pulled them forward, taking the elastic band of my briefs
with them. With her other hand she stuffed the folded bra
into the front of my briefs, folding the soft satin cups
around my still-hard shaft. She kissed me once again while
her hand rubbed me up and down through the satin for a few
seconds. "I will be back to collect it," she promised.
Joy had fully recovered when we came out from behind the
restroom building. Her eyes moved quickly from our faces
to Mel's bosom to my crotch. "Lose something, Mel?"
"I don't think so," Mel replied nonchalantly. "Why?"
Joy looked my way again, and I felt myself reddening. "No
reason," she said, with the slightest hint of a wink to me.
"Shall we move on?"
So we moved on to our first actual roller coaster of the
day, a fiendish device called The Twister. It was an
inverse coaster; the carriages hung suspended below the
track, like a ski lift. Mel, Joy and I were seated in a
carrier that seemed little more than a fiberglass porch
swing with a safety bar, our legs hanging freely. I
noticed the attendant checking out our footwear as he
secured the safety bar. A large sign on the platform
explained why: "Shoes must be securely fastened. Flip-
flops, sandals, and similar footwear should be removed and
left with the attendants."
The ride was a wild one. It started with a long, slow
climb that gave us plenty of time to study the upcoming
turns and twists in the track, imagining what our little
carriage would do as the momentum carried us around it.
Then it started with what felt like an 80-foot drop almost
straight down. We saw the river from the speed boat ride
in front of us and the overhead rail pointing straight at
it. I braced myself for a wet impact and was almost
disappointed when at the last second our carrier swooped up
and to the left. From there we went through a hair-raising
series of loops and turns. True to its name, the ride
flipped us over several times, and at one point had us in a
long barrel roll. Finally it whipped us around in one more
loop and came to a stop back at the platform.
I got a good look at Mel before the attendant released our
safety bar, and it was an eyeful. Her skin was flushed and
hot-looking. Her nostrils seemed to flare slightly, and I
could swear her nipples were poking out against the cotton
T-shirt she wore. Her hand was resting on my bare thigh,
the fingers toying with the short hairs they found. I
could relate -- between the rides, the make-out session
behind the bathrooms, and the promise of more to come, my
adrenals were getting the of all workouts.
Next came the SideWinder, a slightly more conventional
coaster in that the cars rode above the track, but with the
an added twist: the cars were wedge-shaped and designed to
pivot on the front point, swinging wildly from side to side
as the track went through its turns. There were no loops
on the SideWinder, but plenty of vicious sharp turns to
keep us sloshing around in our carrier. As with the
Twister, I sat between the two with one arm around
each; when the ride was over, they were both slow to break
contact.
The Hammerhead ride was short, but memorable. We were
seated in a column -- me in back, Mel in the middle, Joy in
front -- in a cigar-shaped carrier on a normal-seeming
track. Instead of the usual gradual start, though, the
Hammerhead took the opposite tack: a sudden jolt thrust us
forward instantly at full speed. We went almost
immediately into a near vertical climb. I could feel the
car slowing, losing momentum, still pointed straight up in
the air. It slowed and slowed, and for a gut-churning
moment it stalled. Joy screamed and grabbed my legs as the
car began to fall backward. Oh, shit, something's gone
wrong, I thought. Then the car pivoted on an unseen catch,
pointing itself toward the ground, and went into a dive. I
could see we were still on the track, and in that instant I
understood where the ride had gotten its name. I relaxed
into the adrenaline buzz, letting my muscles ease off a
bit. The car finished its dive, transitioned into an
overhead loop, then leveled off and came to a halt at the
platform.
Mel and Joy both looked at me with something like
admiration when we left the Hammerhead. "You must have
balls of iron," Joy told me. "I almost wet myself up
there, and all of a sudden you just relaxed as though you
were at home in your easy chair."
"I was scared, too," I explained. "Then, in a flash, I
realized what they were doing -- they were simulating a
hammerhead stall." Both gave me blank looks, so I
elaborated. "It's a well-known maneuver to stunt flyers.
You put the plane into a near vertical climb and hold it
there until it stalls; then you let it roll to one side
until it's pointing straight down and, once you've got up
enough speed, gradually level it off. The loop at the end
was extra, probably to help bleed off excess momentum."
"So you've done that before?"
I shrugged. "Only if Flight Simulator on my PC counts.
But once I understood what was happening, I figured why not
relax and go with it?"
Joy shook her head slowly. "Balls of iron," she repeated.
Mel sidled up beside me. "I'll have to examine them
myself," she whispered hotly into my ear. "See if she's
right."
We walked around the park for another half hour, checking
out the remaining rides. I think we were all a bit
distracted, though. Mel walked closely by my side, holding
hands and making frequent side contact. Joy stayed close,
pretending not to notice the growing sexual electricity
between me and Mel, but I caught her in a few furtive
glances.
Finally, Mel made the motion we were all waiting for.
"We've done all the good rides," she said. "Anything else
would just be a letdown. How about we call it a day?"
I was fine with that. Walking around for half the
afternoon with Mel's bra stuffed down my shorts had been a
strange sort of torture. With every step the cloth moved a
little around my package; it was like getting a long, slow
hand job from someone wearing a satin glove. Between that
and the endorphins running through my system from the
rides, I'd spent the afternoon in a constant state of semi-
erection -- all I could think about was how much I wanted
to finish what Mel and I had started behind the bathrooms.
The sooner we got home, I figured, the sooner that would
happen.
By the time we reached the van, I had it all mapped out.
It was just a hair before four o'clock; if we grabbed
dinner at a drive-thru we could drop Joy off at home around
7:00, get to my place at 7:30, and be in ecstasy by 7:45.
But Mel had plans of her own.
"Hey, Joy," she said. "Feel like driving for a while?"
Joy shrugged. "Sure, if Jim's okay with it."
I was dubious, and not just because it threatened my little
timetable. "Have you ever driven a big van before?"
"Oh, yeah," she assured me. "I used to drive for a shuttle
service; I spent 40 hours a week driving a van like this
one."
Mel sensed my hesitation and moved in close. "She won't
hurt the van," she told me in a sultry voice. "And it will
give us a chance to sit in the back and neck."
All my reluctance vanished. I tossed the keys to Joy.
"Here you go."
Joy got herself settled into the driver's seat. I helped
adjust the right side mirror, then climbed into the seat
behind her, next to Mel. I watched pretty closely in the
beginning, but by the time we were out of the parking lot
it was obvious that Joy was an expert at maneuvering the
beast.
Mel wasted no time. Once we were on the highway, she
snuggled up right against me and pulled me in for a deep,
erotic kiss. Lips and tongues played together, and soon
our hands were busy exploring each other's curves and
textures.
God, that can kiss! A few seconds of mouth-to-mouth
put my little soldier on full alert; a few more had me
suddenly worried about him firing before the target was in
range. Then I felt Mel's fingers working their way into my
shorts, and I tried to pull away.
"What's the matter?"
"Timing," I said. "If your hand goes in there, I might
last 10 seconds before creaming in my pants like a horny
teen. I don't want to blow this."
"Trust me," she breathed. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
So I let her continue. She planted another long, languid
kiss on me while her hand finished opening up my shorts and
snaked through the front slot in my briefs. Her fingers
closed around my extended shaft, which was still wrapped up
in the cups of her bra. "Feels like iron to me," she said.
Joy must have heard some of what was going on. She tried
her best to look back at us without losing sight of the
road. "Melanie Eileen Loughlin, what the hell are you
doing?"
Mel ignored her and kept whispering hotly into my ear.
"Ten seconds, eh? Let's see ..." She squeezed my
quivering cock and started pumping it. "One," she counted,
and melted me with another hot kiss. "Two." Another pump
and another smoldering kiss. "Three ..."
I made it as far as eight. My system exploded under the
relentless stimulation; all I could do was groan in
exquisite agony while Mel pumped me dry. When my spasms
ended she withdrew the soaked, sticky satin and set it
aside. "There," she said, a satisfied smile on he face.
"That should take the edge off. Now we can take our time
and really savor each other."
Now it was my turn to grin. "I know what I want to savor
first." I grabbed her T-shirt with both hands and lifted
it straight up and off. Mel's breasts, in full view for
the first time, were just perfect. Each was a generous
handful, the soft flesh covered in that extra-pale,
freckle-dotted skin so common in natural redheads, with a
pronounced (and at the moment, very erect) nipple like the
cherry on a sundae, begging to be eaten first.
Mel reclined on the seat, resting her head on the arm. I
lay down on top of her, shifting down a little so my mouth
could easily reach the objects of my desire. I divided my
attentions equally between them, kissing and licking and
nibbling, caressing with my hands and my tongue and my
lips. I could see Mel trying to suppress moans, and out of
perversity I concentrated my efforts until she gave up and
started moaning out loud.
I'd just about forgotten Joy, but she was apparently very
aware of us. "C'mon you guys," she protested, "I'm trying
to drive here. If you can't keep your clothes on until we
get home, you could at least get out of sight and be quiet
about it."
"I'm trying ... ooooohhhh ... to be quiet," Mel responded -
- or tried to, while I kept doing everything I could think
of to break her train of thought. "It's just ... mmmmm ...
I mean ... aaaahhhh ... oh, never mind." I started moving
south slowly, kissing her ribs, under her breasts, her
navel. She grabbed at me and tried to pull me back up, but
all she ended up doing was pulling up on my shirt. I let
her take it. There wasn't enough room in the seat for me
to go where I really wanted to without having my butt
pressed up against the side window, so I lifted her leg up
over my shoulder and started kissing and caressing her
thigh, letting my fingers wander up and down, inside the
leg of her shorts and back out. Mel was loving it; her
breath came in gasps, her back arching with each one, her
head lolling backward.
Joy seemed pretty distracted, too. The rear view mirror
kept her eyes for longer and longer at a time.
Once or twice I felt a sharp jerk as she made a too-hasty
course correction. "We're distracting the driver," I told
Mel between kisses, "and I need more room to move around.
Let's go to the back."
Mel nodded enthusiastically and started to scoot off the
seat. I took advantage of the movement to strip off her
shorts and in the process. She scampered around
the seat quickly and dropped to the floor in the back.
Before following suit, I winked at Joy through the rear
view mirror. "Show us the monuments," I quipped, then
laughed when she rolled her eyes and groaned.
In the back area, Mel was hurriedly unfolding the picnic
blanket we'd used as a tablecloth earlier in the day. We
laid it down in the open area and met in the middle,
kneeling and embracing and indulging in more of those long,
open-mouthed kisses. Our hands roamed freely over each
other from top to bottom. Mel's came upon my shorts, open
and unzipped but still hanging on, and quickly had them and
my briefs down at my knees. Big Jim was happy for the
breathing room, as he was beginning to stand out again.
After one more glance at the rear view mirror -- I caught
Joy peeking at us again, and this time she actually blushed
and looked away -- I gently pushed Mel down onto the floor.
Using kisses and caresses, I worked my way slowly from her
mouth downward, paying loving attention to every curve and
crevice until I reached the fiery racing stripe on her
mound. There was plenty to taste already; her thighs were
slick and shiny on the insides, and the scent of her
arousal released the in me. My world narrowed to
the immediate area of her sex, and I left no nook or cranny
unexplored. Her hips rose up to meet me, gyrating wildly
at times, and her legs locked around me tightly enough that
for a while I could barely hear the moans coming out of
Mel's mouth. Then I heard her squeal. Her body shook
uncontrollably. Her fingers locked around my head,
grabbing fistfuls of hair and pulling me in tighter as she
shrieked repeatedly.
Finally her fingers let go and her body seemed to loosen up
again. She was still panting and still shaking just a
little bit. I lifted her legs up and spread them open a
little more. "Ready for the next ride?" I asked.
Mel nodded breathlessly. I rose up and knee-walked up to
her, giving Big Jim a glimpse of heaven. He took his cue
and plunged directly into the tunnel of bliss. Grabbing
Mel's hips, I lifted her up to improve the angle and
managed to bottom out inside her. Mel wrapped her legs
around my torso and used them for leverage, working me in
and out slowly and easily. I freed up one hand and felt
around for her magic button until I found it. I gave that
a nice, gentle tweak and Mel really came to life. Her legs
and hips started working me like a piston, in and out, in
that primal rhythm that takes over when a woman is about to
come hard. My knees and hamstrings protested, but I stayed
in the saddle until Mel came again. This time I got to
watch her as she came, and it was a sight to do any
proud. Her chest heaved up and down, her back arching and
releasing with each thrust. The skin of her chest, belly,
and up her neck glowed bright pink. Her face had that
loose, slack-jawed look of total abandon -- only her lips
moved as she panted and moaned with the rhythm of her hips
and back.
After a very long time, Mel's breathing and movements
slowed. Her eyes opened and fixed on my face. I slipped
out of her, still hard as a railroad spike, and joined her
in a happy sigh. She held her arms out to me and I eased
down on top of her, indulging in another of those
incredible kisses. She reached between us and checked out
Big Jim, who was still swollen with pride at his
performance. "Roll over," she said, giving me a gentle
push.
I complied, and Mel rolled with me. She sat up straight,
gave my eager member a nice stroke or two, and then buried
it inside her again. I felt her pelvic muscles grip me
firmly and I groaned a little in response. She grinned and
did it again, watching me melt as my brain transferred
control to the battle bridge. Mel's eyes locked onto mine
and she looked right into me, holding me in her gaze while
she rocked up and down on my saddle horn. I felt a
tickling sensation and realized she had her fingertips on
my balls, tracing the line down the middle. She traced
back, using the excess fluid for lubrication, and found
that really sensitive spot all the way at the back. Big
Jim went nuts; I felt every muscle in my body go into spasm
mode, clenching and releasing with the force of my orgasm.
I heard someone groaning in sweet agony and realized it was
me. And all the while Mel watched me as I had watched her,
fully enjoying the results of her expert ministrations.
Soon it was over. My breathing returned to something
approaching normal, and Mel was relaxed on top of me,
tracing little circles on my chest with her fingertip. My
hands moved idly up and down her back, not trying to arouse
anymore, just enjoying the feel of her skin.
A sharp moan cut through the afterglow, followed by
another. The voice was soft, feminine, but it wasn't Mel.
We looked at each other, and realized together that the van
was no longer moving. As one, we knelt up and looked over
the seat. Joy had pulled over into a rest area, one of
those places where you can park and look at the mountains
on the side of the highway. Joy's face, reflected in the
rear view mirror, was taut; her eyes were closed and her
jaw clenched.
"Should I?" I whispered.
"Do it," Mel answered.
I kissed her one more time, then quietly slipped around her
and crept up behind the driver's seat. Using the side view
mirror, I could see Joy better. She had her shorts undone
and one hand working feverishly inside them; the other had
lifted up her and bra and was aimlessly wandering
across her chest. Centering myself behind the seat back, I
reached around with both hands and put them flat on Joy's
stomach. She jumped as if hit with an electric shock, her
head looking wildly back and forth. I didn't give her time
to react: my hands moved immediately upward and cupped her
breasts. At the first gentle squeeze she moaned deeply and
relaxed again into the seat. I caressed and stroked her
breasts while she continued to finger herself below, and in
a very short time Joy was gasping and panting and coming
like a freight train.
By the time Joy opened her eyes, I was back behind the rear
seat with Mel. Joy turned and saw us there, watching her.
"What are you two looking at?" she said irritably. "You
started it."
All three of us laughed ourselves silly.
"To road trips," Mel proposed, raising her iced tea glass
in the air. We clinked glasses and drank.
"To my Frank," I offered, initiating another round
of clinks.
"And his van," Joy added to round things out.
We were sitting in a corner booth at a steak house, having
decided that we could spare the time for a good, solid
dinner. The meal, and the activities preceding it, had us
feeling nice and mellow.
"What I want to know," Joy said, "is which one of you that
was behind my seat."
Mel and I exchanged a conspiratorial look, grinned
together, and said nothing.
"Look," Joy continued. "It doesn't really matter. I mean,
between the rush from the rides and the show you two put on
right behind me, I was too far gone to care at the time."
"And now?" Mel prompted.
"Now that my head's on straight again, I'm curious."
Mel and I shared another silent, secretive smile.
"Then again, maybe I don't want to know."
The waitress brought us our check. We left a hefty tip and
piled into the van for the rest of the trip home.
"I'll drive from here," I volunteered. "I think I can keep
my libido under control until we get home."
"But what if I can't?" Mel asked teasingly.
"You'll think of something, I'm sure." With another chorus
of hearty laughs, we took our seats. I readjusted
everything for me and took us back onto the highway.
All the way home, I kept a close eye on the rear view
mirror.
-wg
5/14/01