I was bounced out of sleep, and what to my wondering eyes should appear? I was looking directly at Rita's bouncing rear, which was stuck up in the air because her front was clamped over Dianne's hungry mouth. Rita was also energetically taking liberties at the junction of Dianne's wide spread thighs. I guessed it was a farewell kiss but there was a lot of moaning and groaning going on which led me to conclude, the kissing had progressed down to good old cunt lapping. Watching two writhing women, enjoying each other, makes my dick hard.
I made my ritualistic morning trip to the facilities and returned to see they had flipped over and Dianne was now on top. I stroked myself harder and positioned myself behind Dianne, over Rita's sucking mouth and slipped into Dianne's wet pussy. I felt Rita's hot tongue travel the length of my hardness as I advanced full depth into Dianne. My sister's movements became frenzied, as I filled her with hot meat. Rita swabbed me liberally as I ravaged Dianne. Rita came first under Dianne's frantic ministrations. Dianne clamped her pussy around me, as her orgasm raced through her system and settled in her center, causing me to send a surging flow of thick love liquid deep into her.
Rita pushed me off and clamped her sucking mouth over Dianne's expanded hole, vacuuming my deposit from within. The two women remained entangled on the bed while I went for a shower. Soon, they joined me for a sudsing. After which, Rita and Dianne disappeared leaving me to finish packing my suitcase and get ready for our return trip.
I stuck my head into Lisa's room and found that she was all ready, and her bags were in the foyer. I dropped my bag by the elevator and went to the kitchen for some coffee. Lisa was decked out in her pilot's outfit and looked scrumptious. We had coffee and when the others joined us we all climbed aboard the elevator and headed for the airport.
I presented Dianne with her emerald broach and we hugged and kissed and said our goodbyes. Rita and Dianne were all teary-eyed but soon we were all loaded in the sleek little jet and taxiing away from the hanger. I sat in front with Lisa for take off but after we had reached altitude over the Atlantic, I moved back to chat with Rita.
"That was awesome," Rita exclaimed. "I've never been in an airplane before."
"This one is a foxy little number," I told her. "Lisa is a great pilot. We'll be in Miami in about three hours and home an hour after that. This thing really hauls butt."
"It's so smooth, and quite," she marveled.
"And so full of shit. Look at all the stuff we're hauling back," said Lisa, as she wandered into the nearly full passenger compartment. "Almost no room for sex."
"Hey," I said, "we can fuck standing up if we need to."
Both of the girls laughed and Lisa handed us each a Coke. I reached in my pocket and produced the two cocktail rings I had purchased in New York. Handing one to each of the beauties seated on either side of me I watched as their eyes widened as they took in the immensity of the gift.
"Treats for the sweet," I said, and received a sloppy kiss on each cheek from Rita and Lisa.
"It's gorgeous," Lisa said.
"Mine too," echoed Rita.
Suddenly the radio started to bleep and Lisa shifted back to her duties as captain of our ship. She called back over the intercom for me to come forward. Dad was on the land link. I nestled in the seat opposite Lisa and spoke into the microphone. Dad bellowed back at me, like he was trying to bridge the distance without the aid of the radio.
"When you be here?" he asked.
I looked at Lisa and she indicated about an hour and fifteen minutes. I told him what he wanted to know and he said he'd be at the same place as the last trip, don't even shut it down, he was traveling light.
Seventy-three minutes later we rolled to a stop right in front of the old man. Dressed in cut-off jeans and a flowery beach shirt, looking like he just crawled out of a grass shack.
"'Bout time, Jesus, what you gotta go through to get a ride." The old chap was his usual charming self.
He tossed his bag up to me and climbed aboard. I pulled the door shut and Lisa turned us around and taxied out. Dad shook my hand and hugged me as he climbed through the door and stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Rita sitting across the cabin. He just pointed and looked at me.
"Oh, dad," I said, "let me introduce you to a little sweetheart I met in New York. Rita, meet Virgil Senior."
She played the coy redhead and batted her long eyelashes at him and extended her hand. Dad hoisted her tiny paw to his lips and first sniffed it then gently kissed the back. "Chanel #5?" he asked.
"Very good," said Rita in her very best New York accent. "I see you are a man of the world."
Pop waved his hand and collapsed into the seat across from Rita leaving me to sit next to her. "Nope, I've got a little Spanish Mamasita that loves to bath in it at home. I recognized the scent."
Fifty-nine minutes later, we taxied up in front of the Holiday's hanger at St. Augustine Airport. Dad made a call and arranged for our cargo to be picked up and delivered to the house. I loaded my guitar and amp and our necessary luggage in the Nomad. I gave Lisa a big sloppy tongue kiss and promised to see her real soon. Rita, dad and I climbed into my car and headed for Islands Estates.
Dad pulled a folded map out of his pocket and unwrapped it on his lap in front us as I drove. I was heading down U.S. 1, just south of St. Augustine. After about twenty minutes time, we crossed the St. Johns, Flagler County line and came to State Road # 204.
"The property in question starts just south of here at Old Kings Road, and extends all the way over to A-1-A," explained dad, "and south to the east-west railroad spur that runs over to the end of Roberts Road, at Lamberts Cove. It includes all the property across the waterway from our property. I figure it to be about sixty square miles or more."
"What's the price tag?" I asked.
"Fifteen and a half million," he said nonchalantly. "But there's potential to develop a whole city, with three or four thousand homes and other commercial developments. You'll have to build schools, churches and stores, and roads. You could be a millionaire before it's over, son."
"Dad, we're already millionaires hundreds of times over," I said.
Rita sighed and said, "I love you, Cool."
Dad and I both looked at her and laughed.
"Look on the bright side, Boy, I stayed out of your hair all summer," he rambled on. "Now we have got to get rid of some cash, before the end of the year and we might as well get Camille busy designing us a city and make us a couple of hundred big ones before some other fool gets wind of this deal. Besides, we can set your sister and your kid up for life and sub the hard stuff out to the blue collar boys and let the lawyers and the accountants screw us out of whatever they can and still die with a smile on our faces."
I had seen the old man like this before and he had a nose for making money. I decided to throw in with him. We set sail for Islands Estates. Our partnership on the development was sealed.
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I wheeled the little station wagon east on to State Road 100, shifting down into second gear. I tromped the foot feed to the floor opening the throttle plates on all eight barrels of the modified 327 cubic inch Chevy engine. The Nomad screamed into action sending the needle on the tachometer swiftly up to 5500 RPM. I slammed the gear shifter into third drawing a howl of protest from the Mickey Thompson, wide boot tires and hurling the green car forward at a frightening speed. I shifted into fourth, backed off the gas and took a quick peek at pop over on the other side of the seat. Rita was snow white, and the old man was smiling like a Cheshire cat.
"Louise bought this pile of iron," he laughed. "I drove it home but, fuck me, I had no idea it had that kind of horsepower."
I just smiled and made the turn north on A-1-A. "I just had her tuned up." I chuckled. "I think she'll put the Crown Victoria away in a straight out drag race. But the Ford's tighter on the road."
"You are nuts!" said Rita with her very best New York accent.
Dad laughed again, "Stick around, you ain't seen nothin' yet."
I eased off the road into our back drive and backed the Nomad into my space by the door to my studio. I gunned the foot pedal to give notice that we had arrived and shut the power off. Pop was out of the car in an instant and rushed into the house to find Louise and Camille.
"He'll probably fuck both of them before dinner," I told Rita.