Ned, the Total Woman Academy Coach Tutor Emeritus, looked out the window of the G280 Gulfstream as the gaps in the billowy clouds peeked through with vistas of the passing ground below. He had just completed a multiday transfer recruitment and a special coed evaluation assessment last week.
Though Ned was still in good shape for a middle aged man, the younger Coach Tutors were more adept at a typically packed schedule of Evaluation Assessments and he had scheduled himself for a holiday break to recuperate from the professional burden. But right on the heels of the last round of assignments, TWA Headquarters had decided Ned was the perfect man for this imminent series of engagements.
It was the organization's endless ordeal to solicit sufficient numbers of fine young ladies for Total Woman Academy Scholarships. Most coed recruitments arose from covert referrals by former graduates and current Pledge Contributors. But to supplement that substantial, though insufficient pipeline, TWA Recruitment contingents trolled college campuses, modelling agencies and cheerleader summer camps for external aspirants.
After applicant candidate background checks, the affirmatively graded ladies were rostered for additional culling.
Confidential preliminary briefings divulged vague details of the curriculum, the residential campus roles and rules, and the incomparable merits of graduation. The final roster of selectees was then assigned to Coach Tutors for pre-enrollment evaluation assessments. If those were successful, then complete program details and enrollment itineraries were shared.
-----
Abby, the Blonde Southern California Naturalist
-----
The flight deck cabin door was open and Ned could see Krystal, his dedicated Pilot and Recruitment Tour Coordinator, studying the horizon and her flight instruments. This was her annually scheduled time to fulfill her post-graduate month of service to the TWA Scholarship Fund.
Her long blonde hair was captured like a headband under the yoke of the flight headphones. He overheard Krystal's call to the control tower requesting landing permission and instructions.
"Van Nuys Control, this is TWA 001 requesting a vector for landing."
"TWA 001, proceed to outer marker for Runway 34, winds from the northeast at 15 MPH, you are cleared as next in line. Happy Landings, Lil Miss Sunshine."
Krystal smirked at the chummy chatter. The lilt of her voice seemed to bring out the sass in the small airports' air controllers. She keyed the jet's internal intercom.
"Six minutes to touchdown, sir. Please buckle in."
Ned fixed his seatbelt and watched the ground rise up closer and closer. The concrete runway appeared beneath his view, the wheels bumped down, and the plane shuddered as Krystal reversed engine thrust. They slowed and taxied to the private jet terminal.
She shut down the engines of TWA's G280, trotted down the foldout stairs, and gave directions to the ground crew to have the jet fueled and ready for takeoff tomorrow. She focused again on her VIP passenger.
Krystal escorted Ned to the black town car waiting on the apron, opening the rear door and seating her alpha male charge inside. She wheeled the car from the airport, down I-405 to Santa Monica, turned north on the Pacific Coast Highway, and ended their 30 minute ground trip at Malibu.
Pulling into their beachfront rental bungalow's driveway, Krystal carted their luggage inside and they changed to swimwear for Ned's first scheduled appointment, a meeting on the adjacent topless beach.
The pair strode across the bungalow's beachside entrance patio, shielding their eyes with flat palms as they surveyed the expanse of nudist beach speckled with tanning female flesh, searching for the blonde they were there for Ned to meet.
Krystal scanned the long surf-lapped sand and pointed out a topless sun worshipper standing at mid-distance.
"Over there."
Ned looked where his Coordinator pointed.
A tall, tanned, athletic built female, her waist length blonde hair fluttering in the sea breeze, was scanning beyond the sunbathing crowd. She also seemed to be looking for her party at this meeting's appointed time.
Ned turned his head back from the nude cornucopia of flesh distributed on the beach towels. He surveyed his bikini clad combination pilot, chauffeur and coordinator.
"Damn, girl. You're positively overdressed!"
Ned swiftly pulled the center front tie and removed the congenial Krystal's bandeau bikini top. He nodded admiringly at her generous tits. She playfully flexed her back, giving a tit waggling shimmy to give him a frisky show. He tossed the top aside on the sand; it was now superfluous for their day at the nude beach.
"Much better" he laughed, patting her thong exposed ass cheeks. She smiled at his repartee and marched toward the shore and their rendezvous with the waiting blonde.
Both strolled inconspicuous through the half-naked lounging bodies to Abby, who was waiting at her oversized beach towel laid out on the sand. Ned plopped down at her side for a nonchalant rapport building chat.
Krystal kept an alert watch for nosy neighbors while the pair got to know each other. Several muscle beach bodies scanned her direction as they passed by and she was sure they made eyes contact with her. 'Check that out later' she thought.
Ned queried Abby about her life story, why she was here with him now and let her confirm in her own words what he had reviewed in her scholarship application and background check summary.
Abby hailed from Minnesota, fourth generation Swedish heritage, the youngest of four sisters. Her older siblings had married young and birthed a brood of children.
Her father owned a successful machine parts manufacturing conglomerate, traveled alone frequently for weekend meetings and conferences, but over the last year he had invited Abby to tag along on several marketing trips to Florida and California. She fell in love with sand and sea, and everyday sunshine.
She met several of her father's tycoon business associates in social settings. Some were overly attentive, indelicately remarking on her physical comeliness, even while chaperoned by their own stunning young eye candy.
Growing ambivalent about her higher education choices in the snowfields, when approached by a boutique modelling agency, Abby fled the cold winters and foreseeable motherhood in Minnesota to the sunny shores of California.
After stagnating a few months at waitressing, modelling, and being a stand-in extra for advertising shoots, her agent favored an alternate path to success through an elite academy scholarship.
When she asked her father's advice, his voice boomed through the phone line.
"Go For It!"
She was secretly vetted by TWA Recruitment and vaguely briefed on the beauty, intelligence and poise curriculum and its enrollment prerequisites, including today's Evaluation Assessment by an Academy recruiting representative.
Ned had reviewed her file and knew her physical particulars, but he wanted to gauge her candor for sharing her personal, especially intimate, details with a new male acquaintance similar in age and attitude to her father's over-friendly middle-aged business associates.
So he nudged the conversation to questions regarding Abby's sexuality,
He noted she exhibited no piercings or tattoos, indicating a wholesome attitude about her body. She volunteered her new found love of healthy habits, a low carb-low fat diet, Yoga, fresh air, and lots of sunshine.
Ned queried her on her weight and height. Average for her top heavy tallness.
"Is your public hair shaved, trimmed or fuzzy?" "Shaved for cleanliness."
"What are your favorite erogenous zones?" "Pussy, nipples, behind my knees, and my neck just below my ears."
"Do you orgasm easily?" "Generally, but it depends on how much I like the man." "We'll work on expanding that feature."
"Can you hold back or speed up your orgasm timing and control." "I usually let nature take its course." "We'll work on improving that, too."
"Nice boobs. What size?" "36 C" "Natural or implants?"
She tilted her head back with pride.
"I'm a naturalist. They're real." "Really? Let me see for myself."
He reached out and cupped each boob, squeezing firmly to confirm her claim of natural.
"How many past boyfriends?" "Six" "Was the sex mutually enjoyable?" "Mostly."
"What was your age when you lost your virginity?" "19."
"Did you have any blowjob or handjob experience prior to that?" "Maybe a few."
"How about deepthroat?" "Managed it once." "Do you swallow?" "I do when I have to."
She confessed to a series of inadequate boyfriends who cried when she dumped them, after finding them unsophisticated about her emotional and physical sexual satisfaction. That's why, when TWA Recruitment had promised her access to an intimate network of many powerful alpha males, she had agreed to apply for the scholarship.
"I'm still amazed by my singular stroke of luck."
Ned knew that, with Abby's sexual allure, her poise curriculum would be repeated strokes of lust instead of a singular stroke of luck. He assured her that, if recommended, she would find that intimate network very deep and very satisfying for many years to come.
Ned and Abby left at late afternoon, walking hand in hand to the beach bungalow where she had been staying since yesterday, awaiting the interviewer. Krystal hung back at the beach to give them privacy.
It was time for Abby's afternoon yoga practice and Ned agreed to join her on the living room foam mats, feeling the need for muscle and libido stress relief built up by the travel and Abby's tantalizing presence.
Toned, flexible Abby led Ned through a full body yoga stretch routine.
