Dear Readers: I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for my absence from this site. The last year has been difficult for me and because of some serious health problems and a bout with writer's block during my convalescence. I have finally written the second chapter of this story and I hope it answers the questions the first chapter left you hanging with. I will soon be posting another story series that will be a change of pace for me. I won't say anything more as that will spoil it for you.
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My son completes our family.
When I started writing the first chapter of this story, I unconsciously wrote it using the voice of the young woman I was at the time of my mother's death. After we buried Mother, and my father and I started 'Making Love' instead of just 'Fucking', my whole outlook on love and life changed so much that by the time we boarded the plane in St. Louis that Tuesday in September 1988, I was becoming a completely different person. From here on, I will be writing in the voice of the adult woman I have become since giving birth to my son, Raymond.
Having never flown on an airplane, I was excited as we walked down the ramp and into a world I had only seen on television or in the movies I had seen as a child. I didn't realize that we were flying First Class until my father and I were seated in the second row of the plane where there were two seats on either side of the aisle. I was so excited when I got to sit by the window, that after we all buckled our seatbelts, I was enthralled with watching the sights go by as we taxied to the runway, that I barely paid attention to what the pretty flight attendant was telling us to do 'in case of an emergency'.
After the plane reached the beginning of the runway, and started accelerating, I felt an adrenalin rush the likes of which I had never experienced before, and when we left the ground and were flying, I got a little dizzy. As I watched the ground disappear as we climbed into the clouds, I felt euphoric, and sexually aroused.
When they announced that we could unbuckle our seatbelts and could use the restrooms, I realized I had to pee. I unbuckled my belt, slipped past my father, and was the first passenger to make it to the Ladies room. When I got inside, pulled up my skirt, and pulled down my panties, I realized the wetness in my panties was not pee, but the juices my vagina produced when my body was getting ready for sex.
As I sat on the toilet and masturbated, the plane's vibrations made me cum faster than I had ever experienced before. Afterwards, I realized I smelled like sex, so I used the scented wet wipes to clean myself and mask the aroma of my orgasm (Oh the perks of flying First Class).
When I returned to my seat, the flight attendant asked if we would like some champagne, my father said yes. He knew my first taste of an alcoholic beverage was the Asti Spumante I had a few months before, so he whispered, "Sweetheart, this is a bit stronger that what we had on your birthday, so drink it very slowly."
I remembered how 'happy' the wine we had on my birthday had made me feel, so I was careful and only sipped this bubbly wine.
My stomach was still full of the huge breakfast I had eaten only a few hours earlier, so when I finished my glass, I felt sleepy, and decided to take a little nap. When I awoke, we were being served a meal, and I enjoyed the braised whitefish and wild rice with Riesling as the snow peaked Rocky Mountains passed by below us.
Later when we were getting closer to the end of our flight, the plane descended lower than the snow peaked mountains. Soon, I could see the green pine trees out my window as we dropped into the Columbia River valley, and the next thing I knew we were landing on the runway of Portland International Airport (PDX), on the banks of the Columbia River, just North of downtown Portland, Oregon.
After we deplaned and retrieved our bags, we went to the National Car Rental desk, where my father showed his Illinois driver's license and State Farm insurance card before they had him sign the paperwork and gave him the keys to a red Mercury Topaz. When they told him where the rental car was parked, and gave him a map of the area, he asked the agent if she could give him driving directions to the Extended Stay motel we were staying at in Canon Beach.
She punched a bunch of information into her computer, and the printer behind her spit out a map with driving directions printed on the lower half of the page. She also told us that we could return the car at any of their company's locations in the area without any additional cost.
My father thanked the agent and we made our way to the parking area across the busy eight lane street from the terminal building. We found our car easily because it was the only red car in the lot. After we put our bags in the trunk and got in the car, my father handed me the map with the directions, and I navigated as he drove.
It took us an hour to get through the afternoon Portland traffic even though we were on multilane interstates the whole way, but when we finally made our way onto Sunset Highway (westbound US 26), the traffic started to thin out. Within an hour we were turning south on the Pacific Coast Highway (US 101), and soon we were in Canon Beach. We saw the sign that advertised our motel and turned right at the traffic signal.
Our motel was at the end of the next block, and we parked in front of the office. When I watched as Father signed the register, I noticed the reservations were for Mr. and Mrs. Charles Madison. When he stepped aside and let me see what he was signing, I smiled and said nothing when I saw that the room only had one bed.
When my father asked for a recommendation for somewhere to eat, the desk clerk recommended the seafood restaurant at the end of the block because it was a local 'Mom & Pop' place that had been in business for years.
We thanked Ginger, who looked like she could have been Sally Struthers' older sister, and parked the rental in front of our room, #154 that was in the rear on the ground floor. We carried our bags into the room, undressed, and made love on the queen-sized bed. Then we showered together, redressed and walked two blocks down the street to 'Bill and Judy's Seaside Café'.
Judy met us at the door and showed us to a booth next to a window that faced the beach. She was very friendly and asked us where we were from. We told her we were from central Illinois, but we were moving to the area. When she told us that they were originally from Canton, we told her we were from Peoria Heights, and it made her day. She recommended broiled tuna steaks because they were freshly caught and suggested a local white wine to go with them.
We told her that sounded wonderful and left us alone as she headed to the kitchen. After she left, I started to look around the room. I noticed the place was nicely appointed but not ornate or overly commercialized. I also noticed that there were only six other couples in the place, so less than half of the tables and booths were occupied.
The aroma coming from the kitchen was heavenly, and when Judy brought our salads and wine about ten minutes later, she also brought an unmarked bottle of dressing. She told us it was the house special Italian dressing, but that she had French or Blue Cheese dressing if we preferred.
I told her their house dressing would be fine, and she filled our wine glasses and left the bottle on the table. We finished our salads, and Judy brought our entree, and as my father and I ate, we noticed the restaurant was getting emptier as we watched the sun fall lower over the Pacific Ocean.
