Turbulence 6

I was crammed in my window seat as my plane lumbered through the night sky. We were more than four hours into our flight, 35,000 feet above the empty, roiling Pacific Ocean. Gazing out at the field of gray clouds below us, I pictured my parents' plane, somewhere in the distance back towards the mainland, racing after mine to join me for our vacation in Hawaii.

Along with another family, we were visiting Andy, my parents' friend from college. After selling his company, Andy had taken an early retirement and purchased an estate on Oahu. I had scheduled a convenient work trip to the West Coast and had caught a flight from Los Angeles while my family and their friends connected through San Francisco. Aside from my prim grey pantsuit, blue blouse, and black heels -- residue of my afternoon meetings -- my outfits for the week consisted of shorts and tanks, and a couple bikinis for my long-anticipated week in paradise.

And I was definitely ready for this vacation! I'd been so busy the last few weeks with work deadlines and crisscrossing the country for meetings that I'd barely had time to sleep; I'd noticed the heavy toll that the accumulated stress, sleep loss, and fatigue were taking on my mind and bod- yeee!

The plane dropped suddenly, snapping sleepy passengers awake throughout the darkened cabin as it lost altitude and quaked in its struggle to stabilize. Murmurs of shock and confusion rustled up and down the aisle as console lights flicked on throughout the cabin. Static cracked across the intercom as the captain sought to reassure the startled travelers.

"Hmmuhhh, folks, sorry about that. We hit a little pocket of turbulence there coming off some thunderstorms to our north. Things will probably be smooth the rest of the way and we don't anticip-" the plane shuddered violently, plunging again as cries rang through the cabin.

Despite being accustomed to flying and the routine turbulence that came with it, I tensely gripped the armrests, digging my glittery silver nails into the upholstery. I gazed at the grey floor of clouds that hung outside the window, thinking of the bottomless ocean depths waiting below. The body of the craft trembled, and cabin lights flickered as we tipped our way through the squall. Finally, the plane steadied, and the intercom again crackled to life.

"Ayuhh, folks, we apologize again for that additional turbulence. At this time, we have gotten beyond the system, and it looks like smooth sailing from here 'til 'aloha.' ... buuuut as a precaution, we ask that for the duration of the flight, you please keep your seatbelts fastened while you are seated." I uneasily returned to my book and the remainder of our flight passed without incident.

As we taxied to the concourse, I switched on my phone's service and was assaulted by a blizzard of texts, missed calls, and voicemails from my mom, dad, and sister. Their plane had run into the same storm as my flight. However, on their more northern course, conditions had been even worse, and they'd been forced back to the mainland. Immediately after I deplaned, I called my mom to check their status.

"There's this whole system stretching up the coast almost to Alaska, Sarah!" My mom relayed as I heard my dad in the background reading from the weather website. "All the boards are flashing red; they've canceled everything! We're not getting out tonight... What's that?" She addressed someone on her end, then returned to our conversation. "I'm sorry, Sweety. It's looking like we may not be able to get out for until tomorrow... or who knows? Maybe longer!"

"Don't worry about me, I'm just glad you're safe, obviously. Sorry you're missing out on so much of the trip! Have any of you been in touch with Andy?" I hadn't seen him in years and was nervous about finding him in the airport.

"Yes, your father called him, and Andy said he was waiting at the airport, wearing a yellow shirt." She responded. She then ended the call to mediate between my irritable father and the airline rep as they reached the ticket counter.

At least I had a vague idea who to look for, I thought as I balanced my suitcase and leather briefcase in either hand, walking toward the exit at the security gate with my big purse hanging from one shoulder. The sharp clicking of my black patent heels on the marble echoed in the empty terminal. I hadn't seen Andy since I was ten, and those mental images, foggy with years, were surely out of date. My parents got Christmas cards from him, but he'd gotten divorced ten years ago and since then those cards had been Hallmark prints, rather than current photographs.

"Hey! Are you George's daughter?!" a voice blurted from behind me. I spun at the noise to find a good-looking, vaguely familiar middle-aged man. The man introduced himself, "I'm Trent! Your mom and dad's friend. We've met, but it was a while ago... gosh, I haven't seen you since you were..." he held a hand level with his belt. I smiled as I identified him as the dad from the other family on our trip.

"Trent! Of course!" I remembered Trent and his wife, as well as their twin sons who I recalled not getting along with, from childhood family get-togethers. To his credit, Trent seemed to have blossomed after middle age, losing the dadbod he'd gained in his boys' early childhood and shaving off a cheesy goatee to reveal seasoned, striking features. Catching myself staring at his neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair and muscular physique, I shook myself free of the spell. My smile warmed and I leaned in for a welcoming hug, while my face colored with awkwardness over my reaction. "Sorry, I'm slow. It was a long day at work, and I'm a little frazzled after my flight. Lots of turbulence."

"Oh yeah, I was on that plane out of LA, too." He noted my confusion and clarified. "I was gonna be on your mom and dad's flight, with Ellie and my boys, but I had a meeting in Culver City pop up at the last minute, so I switched to LAX."

"Well, that's lucky. I guess, for you, anyway. At least we're here, not stuck at some ticket counter on the mainland." I giggled devilishly, imagining my sister Brandy retreating into her earbuds to drown out the sound of our father berating airline personnel.

Trent nodded. "Yeah, lucky..." his pleasant eyes gawped intently as they passed over the swells of my blouse. "Boy, you've really grown up..." he muttered, his words not necessarily intended for my ears.

He shook his head abruptly, as if clearing his brain like an Etch-A-Sketch. His mind uncluttered, Trent took my suitcase from my hand without asking and set off towards security with a 'come on' shrug of his shoulders. I grabbed my briefcase and adjusted my purse strap, then hurried to catch up.

Beyond the security checkpoint, we spotted Andy immediately. In a sea of Hawaiian shirts, Andy stood out in a canary yellow polo, not to mention his towering height and burly build. He recognized Trent right away and threw out his arms, embracing his old friend. Then, he turned to me and wrapped me in a bear hug before I could even put my bag down.

"Aloha 'oe i ko Hawai'i, Sarah!" he rumbled a welcome in the island's tongue. "Gosh, you sure have grown up!" His laughter shook his barrel chest and vibrated into my bust through his lingering embrace. The men's identical reactions to my grown-up appearance revealed that they both had somehow expected the child they knew. It was understandable, but still felt a little infantilizing.

He released me as he updated us on the status of our families. "I talked to your parents -- Ellie, too, Trent -- and they're set up at a hotel in San Fran. Hopefully by tomorrow afternoon the airlines can work through the chaos from that storm. In the meantime, you two must be bushed! Let's get you back to the house so you can wash up. You guys hungry? I can heat up something when we get there!"

Andy's words came in a rush, leaving no space for response or interjection. He clapped his hands together decisively, then turned on a dime, scooping up both my bags as he headed off in the direction of the short-term lot. Adjusting my purse on my shoulder, once again I rushed to catch up with a long-lost family friend.

The tropical breeze gusted through the open windows of Andy's white 4Runner as he pulled up to a large black gate. At the touch of the remote, the gate retracted into the high property wall. Andy navigated the car around the circle drive, parking before the front door. He hopped out and insistently grabbed my bags, leaving me to carry my purse and discarded suit coat as I followed him into the house.

Andy opened the front door, then backed into the marble foyer that led to an open, bright living room. The house extended in two large wings around a central pool and courtyard. My eyes gaped past Andy, through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the patio and pool. Trent and his family had visited Andy a few times before, and the other guest headed off through the house. He passed through the giant kitchen -- which opened into the yard -- and towards a wing of bedrooms with a purpose borne of familiarity.

"Yeah, Trent, you and Ellie take the second master suite again, if that suits you." Andy called after him, needlessly. Trent turned and bowed deeply before continuing on his path. Andy turned to address me. "Sarah, your folks are gonna be in the big guest room next to Trent." He considered me meticulously, before he continued. "And I was gonna put you and Brandy in the room with double beds at that far end of the house, but I think Rex and Seth would be better in there. You're a grownup and they're college kids. They're used to dorms, you know?"

He directed me to follow him as he entered the opposite wing of the house. We passed another bedroom just off the living room, and he gestured with the arm holding my suitcase and noted, "That'll be Brandy", more for his internal accounting than for my ears. We passed a large office lined with bookshelves and populated by several leather chairs and a large cherry desk that overlooked the pool and the beach beyond.

"It must be hard to get any work done with that view, huh?" I called after him. Not that Andy had to work much anymore, I thought as I eye-fucked the mahogany walls filled with leatherbound volumes.

"Nah. I do my best thinking when I'm staring at something else, ya know?" He looked like a little kid when he grinned. I smiled back warmly, captivated by his casual charm as I hurried to keep up with the tour. Assorted studies, hobby rooms, and closets passed as we walked.

Finally, Andy reached the door he was looking for. With a grand flourish, he threw open the door and held out an admitting arm toward the room. "E como mai! Welcome!" he proclaimed. I rushed to the double glass doors that opened onto the illuminated back patio beneath a roof overhang; across the courtyard and pool, I saw similar doors in what I gathered were Trent's and my parents' rooms, as well as the entry to the dining room. A round wooden picnic table and chairs were situated on the slate outside my room.

To my right another door led to a large bathroom. I left my jacket on the bed as I wandered in and turned on the light. A long counter with two sinks and a mirror lay the length of one wall. At the far end was the toilet, and on the wall opposite the sink was a luxurious stone shower.

"What do you think? Will this work? You should know, the only catch is that this bathroom connects to my bedroom, too." He pointed to a door on the other side of the sinks. "But I promise that if I get any old-man calls-of-nature in the middle of the night, I'll go to the WC down the hall."

"Jeeeez," I wandered over to the outside wall of glass bricks at the end of the bathroom abutting the patio. Through the waves of the blocks, I could make out the squiggly outlines of the table and chairs beneath the floodlights, along with the rows of lights in the pool. "This place is so gorgeous, Andy!"

He smiled, seeming almost to blush at the compliment. "Yeah, got really lucky... Well, I should let you get out of that suit... I mean, I'm sure you've had a long day with work stuff, then that wild flight. Towels are under the sink, if you want to shower; obviously, just lock the door on my side, haha!" He laughed and winked, then walked into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

I returned to my room, kicking away my heels as I closed the curtains on the patio door. Unbuttoning and untucking my blouse as I approached the bed, I tossed the shirt beside my suitcase, then opened the bag. I unclasped my peach lace bra as I recklessly dug through my carefully packed clothes. My breasts swelled upon their release with an almost-audible sigh of relief. Chucking the discarded bra on top of my shirt, I rubbed the underwire tracks beneath my tits.

Hastily unfastening my suit pants, I yanked them down my legs, then folded them along their crease. Casting a wary glance over my shoulder towards the blocked windows, I picked the pesky wedgie of my matching lace thong out of my crack as I stretched. Relieved, I set out a pair of cutoff jean shorts, a grey tank top, and a clean pair of black panties from my bag and headed for the shower.

I walked to the bathroom, then with a flash of remembrance, rushed over to lock Andy's door. At ease, I splashed my face at the sink, then stood topless, in only my thong, before the mirror. I rubbed at the bra creases marring my plump tits, then looked closely at the tired pits under my eyes after the long day... week... weeks... whatever! Happy to finally be on vacation, I turned on the shower then wiggled out of my panties. Bending at the waist to pick the thong off the bathroom floor, motion at the corner of my eye drew my attention.

I turned with a start towards the exterior wall, where I'd sensed the movement. Warped through the glass blocks, I could make out the illuminated forms of Andy and Trent as they sat down at the table outside. I couldn't make out details of the men's figures, or which direction they faced. Reassuring myself that the wave design of the glass and the bright lights above them would adequately obscure any view of the inside -- and they were probably facing the pool and surf beyond, anyway -- I stepped into the steaming shower.

Shutting off the water, I grabbed my towel, and immediately set to wringing my auburn hair dry. Patting myself with the fluffy towel, I wiped the mirror and reassessed my reflection. The marks were fading from my tits, and my washed face looked refreshed. I felt better, too, like my shower had rinsed off the stress and exhaustion of work and travel.

With a perky boost in my step that transferred from my lively legs to my springy tits, I bopped towards the exit. I cocked my head curiously as I noted that the outside light above the patio had been turned off. In place of the blurred furniture, now I could only make out the two murky outlines of Trent and Andy. Floating alongside the dark shapes, two red cigar cherries glowed on the other side of the glass bricks.

I hesitated instinctually as I dissected the situation, uneasy goosebumps rising on my neck and shoulders. Eying the warped bodies, I wondered how much they could see through the distorting glass. I surprised myself with my reaction; I didn't feel upset or repulsed at the prospect of the two older men watching me. In fact, I even felt startingly excited at their attention. It was flattering -- maybe even a little arousing? -- to be noticed as a woman by men who had thought of me as a child. Nibbling my lip mischievously, I unhurriedly, exaggeratedly bounced past the window to the bedroom.

Back at the bed, I finished drying off, then pulled on my clean panties then the cutoffs. Ducking my head and arms into the grey tank, I wrangled my D-cups under the top's fitted control shelf and gave my shirt a testing bound. "I'm tired, it's dark out there, and they might have just seen it all anyway," I reasoned in skipping a bra. I knotted my damp hair into a casual bun behind my head and set out to join the guys.

Pulling back the curtains, I slid open the glass door and stepped barefoot onto the patio. The slate was still warm from the day's sun. I felt as though I'd burst into the middle of a private discussion between Trent and Andy. A bottle of scotch sat open on the table, beside two full glasses and one empty. I noted that the lights above the patio had been conspicuously turned back on.

"Ahem. Hey, there she is!" Andy cleared his throat loudly, then welcomed me. He stood and pulled a chair out from the table, between the two of them with my back to the bathroom wall.

Trent adjusted in his chair, shifting towards the pool. "Hey! Fresh from the shower and looking bubbly and refreshed!" I sat in the offered seat and pulled it up to the table.

"Do you drink scotch?" Andy held up the bottle in offer. "There's a whole bar across the pool if there's anything you'd prefer." I nodded 'yes' for scotch, feeling keen to impress the older men by matching their mature and sophisticated taste. Andy smiled as he poured several fingers of brown liquor into my glass. "You need something to eat?" He issued a last hospitable offer, but I shook my head 'no', declining the offer of a late meal as I raised the glass to my lips. The whiskey passed over my tongue and throat with a burning smoothness as I drank.

"Now that's a beautiful sight," Trent chimed in. "A pretty girl drinking a scotch as old as she is!"

I smiled and took another sip. Typically, I was more of a wine-drinker, and I had to concentrate not to wince at the bite of the whiskey. The liquor instantly warmed my throat and empty belly, heightening the lightheaded comfort after my shower.

"You don't want one of these, do you?" Andy indicated his cigar. I looked from one older man's probing face to the other. Andy was already cutting the cap off a thick stogy as I nodded 'yes' again. "Just, uh, don't tell your dad..." He urged as he handed it to me.

I pressed the shoulder of the cigar to my lips, puffing at Andy's instruction as he lit the foot with a wooden match. "No ka 'oi..." Andy said as he dropped the dead match in the ashtray. "That means 'the finest.'" Inhaling, I coughed lightly as the acrid smoke chafed my lungs. Trent and Andy chuckled at my inexperience, and gently coached me to puff without breathing in. "Gently take it into your mouth and hold it there..." Andy trailed off in his instruction as I blushed at the inuendo.

"Hell yeah, learn how to smoke a cigar. Guys think it's hot..." Trent counseled. With my lips puckered around the firm tube, it was easy to imagine why.

"I've never gotten any complaints about my 'smoking'." I playfully retorted. My lips curled naughtily around the head of the smoke.

Trading sips of scotch and puffs on the cigar, I felt like I was credibly roleplaying an adult, fitting in with the mature crowd. The old friends talked around me, exchanging 'backwhenwe' stories from their college days. Counting my dad, the three of them had played whack-a-mole with the college's disciplinary board; a stark contrast to the stuffed shirt 'Doctor George' I had always known. Occasionally, the older men shifted the conversation to an area I could participate in, but I mostly stared pleasantly across the courtyard at the black ocean and the clear sky above it.

As I took a drink, Andy finished a story about my dad and a dorm window that took a shockingly bawdy turn at the end. I nearly spit out my liquor with laughter, feeling a thin trickle ooze from my lips. I licked the whiskey from my chin before wrapping my lips around the head of the stogy. Taking another long pull, I felt Andy's arm extend behind my back, his fingers lightly resting on my shoulder.

My glass emptied, and Trent was quick with a hefty refill; I smiled a gracious thanks. The scotch tingled from my empty belly throughout my body. Trent watched raptly as I raised the thick rod of tobacco to my soft lips; my breasts rose gently beneath my tank top as I puffed in a mouthful of smoke.