You did get her from the airport, didn't you?" I got her," Brock assured Al. "But I picked up a straggler, too. J.C. Michaels is here – along with a half dozen of my friends from out of town. So I think a late supper is probably out of the question. Do you guys want to come over to say hi to J.C.? I think we're just going to order in some food and hang out for a while." J.C. is in town?" Al asked. "Is he just stopping in on his way to San Diego?" I'll let him tell you why he's here if he wants to," Brock replied. "I'm not sure he wants anyone to know. I hope you understand."Al understood completely without Brock saying a word. There was some sort of medical problem that J.C. wanted looked at without the Indians – or the media – finding out."Let's plan a blowout tomorrow afternoon at my place," Al said. "Invite whoever you want." Why don't we do it here?" Brock asked. "You can bring the kids and they can swim. Plus, well, I know they're big fans of Chastity and Randi. We'll fire up. My arms slid all the way through the elastic waist of her costume. My head was still beneath her clouts, and had dragged the dress almost entirely above her hips, but my grip was now on her ribs and tits. I slid out from underneath the fabric, brushing my fingertips over her firm nipples as I extracted myself. Arlene didn’t move. She remained stretched out on the bean bag, her legs and abdomen uncovered except for the g-string. There was only one red light bulb shining under the stage, and it bathed her oiled flesh in it’s soft rays. Her beautiful legs shimmered like red chrome. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Arlene lifted her left foot to my neck and ran the toe of her Victorian boot slowly down the front of my shirt, across my belt buckle to my groin, where she pressed her sole against my concrete boner. Then she uttered a very theatrical sigh, lifted herself off the bean bag and scurried away into the darkness. If all this seems like an erotic adventure in itself, it was.
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