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KristinChapter 7 free porn video
Early the following morning I was able to see Jonathan Wilkerson again and gave him another $10 million with instructions to take care of the two new girls. He told me he was thinking of telling them that they had an “allowance” of up to $4,000 a month. He would not tell them where it came from nor anything about the principal sum behind it. Of course, anything not spent would be added back to principal.
As usual, I was wearing a business suit for our meeting. At ten o’clock we went out front and found all the girls standing, waiting. To my surprise — and Kris’s utter amazement — Liz drove up in a Ford F-150 4-wheel-drive pickup.
“No limousine?” Kris asked. She was utterly gorgeous — albeit somewhat tired-looking — in a very classy outfit.
Liz had gotten out of the cab and came around to load our things into the bed. The golf clubs were already there. I laughed while Kris gasped when she got a full look at her former roommate. While she was wearing her gray chauffeur’s jacket and cap, she wore nothing else, not even a pair of shoes. Moreover, our accumulated cum was still slowly leaking from her cunt and flowing down her thighs.
She took Kris in her arms, held her tightly and really unloaded with the most powerful kiss she was capable of giving anyone. Kris felt it and returned it with all her power. In the meantime, Tina came to me and unloaded a kiss of her own on me.
When she eased away she said, “Mr. Harris, you’re just absolutely the greatest. Mr. Wilkerson just told me about the ‘allowance’ and I don’t need to be a genius to guess where the funding for that came from. All I can say, sir, is that anything I have is yours at any time. Just ask.” She paused, glanced at Liz and added, “And thanks for what you did last night for Liz. With the exception of Kris, I’ve never seen a girl look as well-fucked as she does.” Then she grinned and added, “Next time, it’s my turn!”
“Come on, you turkeys!” Liz demanded. “We’ve got to get to the airport or you’ll miss your plane.”
“But why are we taking all my things?” Kris asked. “I thought they were sent out later by UPS.”
“Because we’ve managed to get them on this flight as freight,” Liz replied. “But we’ve got to get there. Now move!”
Kris insisted that I sit in the middle on the bench seat between the two girls.
With tears and cheers we left the Institute.
On the way I was admiring Liz’s bare vulva while she concentrated on her driving. (By the way, although it’s a pickup, this vehicle was really an SUV: it had everything. And thankfully, because of the Mexican heat, the air conditioning was both powerful and effective.)
“How often do you two shave your pussies?” I asked. “I’ve never seen you do it, but you always feel as soft as a baby’s bottom. There’s never a trace of stubble. How do you do it?”
Kriss laughed and said, “It’s easy. All three of us had laser treatments to get rid of the hair. There’s none there, and there never will be any. So if later a guy wants us with a full bush, he’s out of luck ... or we are.” Then she asked Liz, “What time is our flight, anyway? And how are we doing on time?”
“We’re cutting it awfully tight,” she replied. “I just don’t know ... But Mr. Harris insisted on seeing Wilkerson, so...”
We approached the airport. Although Kris was not nearly as familiar with it as Liz was, she had been there several times before. So when a sign indicated a turn to reach the Departure area and Liz just continued on past it, she asked, “What’s going on? We should have turned back there. Where are you going?”
“Oh, this is a shortcut I found awhile ago. It avoids the traffic hassles at the Departure area.” Since it was a small airport, there really never were any traffic problems, but what the hell...
Kris’s eyes really bugged, though, when Liz drove through an open gate — the guard on it merely saluted as he held it open for us — and drove out on the apron where our G-5 was waiting. The steps were down and the starboard engine was turning.
“What’s this?” Kris exclaimed.
“An airplane, turkey!” Liz responded sarcastically. “What the hell does it look like?” She drove right up to the boarding stairs and shut off the engine. Ignoring the fact that she was totally bare from the waist down and the fact that the sun-heated paving had to be burning the hell out of her feet, she proceeded to unload the back end. Everything was stowed in the aircraft and then there was a tearful farewell between the two girls.
“Kris, all I can say is that last night was the greatest of my life. I know you’re going to be ecstatically happy with Cam, and it couldn’t happen to a better girl!”
We climbed aboard, and I could see Kris starting to shake. When we had taken seats side by side and fastened the seat belts, she took my hand and held it tightly.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I asked. “Haven’t you flown much before?”
“This may be the very first flight of my life,” she replied nervously. “I might have been flown in here when I first arrived, but if I was, I was so out of it I had no awareness of it. In fact, I guess I was down here for weeks before anything registered at all.” Then she looked at me and asked, “But what is this, anyway? And what about customs and immigration and all that stuff?”
“Oh! The guy at the gate who saluted was customs, I think. That was our departure inspection handled with typical Mexican thoroughness.” I continued, “This is a Gulfstream G-5 set up in its comfort configuration. Let’s just say that flying this way avoids all sorts of hassles. And you just might be able to become a member of the Mile High Club, too.”
“Which is... ?”
“It’s open to girls who’ve been fucked at an altitude of 5,300 feet or more. And since we’ll be cruising at about 38,000...”
Kris just giggled.
By this time, the port engine had spun up and we taxied to the active runway. The pilot released the brakes and we were off. With all its power and its very light load, the plane almost jumped into the air. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were above 5,000 feet when we crossed the boundary marker.
“Incidentally, sweetie, I guess I’ve neglected to discuss our plans with you. Although we’ll be living in New York, we’re only hopping over to New Orleans today. I thought we could spend the night there, then go up to Atlanta in the morning to get you some things, then drop down to Orlando and spend a week or two at Disney World. Then I thought we could go up to Pinehurst for a few weeks of golf. How does that sound?”
“It sounds great, but...”
“But what?”
“Don’t you ... have to be back at work ... or something? I mean ... you’ve been gone a week already... ?”
“Honey, the short answer is no.”
She looked at me with a puzzled expression and said, “Cam, it’s not really any of my business, but what do you do for a living?”
“Two things: First, everything I do is your business. Anything you want to know, just ask. Second, my business is investing money ... my money. That’s really all I do, and it really doesn’t take much time. Furthermore, what little I need to do, I can do anywhere. What I haven’t done is spend any time with women. And since I’m new to this, and you’re an instructor, I thought you could give me lessons on making love to a woman. At the end of the lessons, Kris, I hope you realize if I’m not any good, it will be your fault.”
Kris just rolled her eyes. “Look, lover, I now have a second opinion: Liz agrees with me that you couldn’t be nearly as good as you are without lots of experience. Yet you insist — and all the testing seems to support the idea — that you haven’t had any prior experience. What that means is that you’re a natural-born talent.” Then she grinned lasciviously and added, “I think we’re going to have fun. Now, about that Mile High Club... ?”
I showed her how the sofa opened to a bed and we had a wonderful time on the way to New Orleans.
When we quickly cleared customs and immigration, a limousine was there to meet us and take us to our hotel. On the way I had a thought and asked, “Sweetie, I just thought of something. If you don’t know a thing about your past life, how were you able to get a birth certificate? Where was Kristin Collins born, anyway?”
“In a small town in Tennessee,” she replied with a cute grin. “A funny thing happened, though. About 10 years ago, there was a fire or a flood or something. Anyway, all the records were lost.” Then with her eyes wide she added, “Cam, you wouldn’t believe how many of the girls at the Institute are from that one small town! It’s really a remarkable coincidence. But if you check today, you’ll find Kristin Collins’ birth record.”
“You sure?”
“Damn right I’m sure!” she exclaimed. With a grin she added, “I was watching when Tina entered it, so I’m sure it’s there. As I said, that girl is really incredible on a computer!”
We had the finest suite in the finest hotel in downtown New Orleans. Kris teased that it was almost as nice as the suites at the Institute, but she wondered where the room steward was. I asked her about it and was told that she really felt like having her pussy eaten. After all, it was loaded — again! — with our mixed fluids from the flight up.
Lacking a steward, I was forced to take care of her needs personally. It was really a lot of fun. Between orgasmic screams she gave me instruction on where to do what. When she finally recovered after losing consciousness, she conceded that in a very short time I would be as good as Liz.
“And Liz,” she noted, “is the very best alive!”
High praise, indeed.
At Antoine’s that evening, I had another surprise. We were greeted in French by the maître d’, to whom Kris replied in machine-gun fashion in perfect Parisian French. The man’s eyes widened and he kissed her hand. Truly, he was impressed and so was I.
Although we were handed menus when we were seated, Kris took mine and her own and gave them back to the maître d’, accompanying the action with another extended speech in French. The man bowed and left, returning a few moments later with the chef himself. Now all three were going at it. Finally the two left the table with the chef kissing Kris’s hand before leaving.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“I told him that we were new to the city but certainly knew of the restaurant’s reputation. I told him that we were both hungry, would eat anything, and...” she blushed and stopped.
“And what?” I prompted.
“And price was not a consideration,” she blurted. “God, Cam, did I really screw things up? I mean ... Well, there’s a convention in town — there always is — and I could work the streets if it comes to that ... I really wouldn’t mind too terribly much ... I’ve done it before under much worse conditions than this, and I know a lot more now, too.”
I leaned over and kissed her. The instant our lips met, her hand came around behind my neck holding me in position. Although I had intended only a quick kiss, it was apparent that quick kisses just were not in our repertoire. It was delicious, complete with electricity and bells.
“Darling,” I said softly when I could speak again, “you were right the first time: Price is not a consideration. The only consideration is your happiness.”
Her incredible blue eyes were locked on mine. A smile began to spread over her face and she was utterly glowing. “My God!” she whispered, “you’re serious, aren’t you?” Then she asked, “Cam, how much money do you have?”
“Enough to keep you in food, sweetie,” I replied, ducking the question for the moment.
“I can eat an awful lot!”
“And ten billion dollars can buy a lot of food, too.”
“Ten... billion?” she gasped.
“Significantly more than that,” I conceded, “but if you want a round number, that’ll do.”
She looked upward and I guessed she was doing some mental arithmetic. “Good grief!” she finally exclaimed. “At only 5 percent, unless I slipped a decimal point somewhere, that’s about ten million dollars... a week!”
“If I only made 5% and only had ten billion, that would be about right. But I really earn a lot more than that.”
“Oh, dear!” Kris exclaimed with her eyes wide. “I just realized I’m not really holding up my end very well at all...”
“And what’s that mean?” I asked with a grin.
“Well, isn’t it obvious? I mean ... Well, I’m your mistress, after all, and I’m dedicated to helping you in any way I can. Now it’s clear that my primary mission in life is to help you spend your money, and I really haven’t been doing a very good job.”
I just took her hand in mine and squeezed it gently. She just beamed.
The dinner was utterly magnificent, with the chef himself bringing out the main courses. Again, I was amazed. He stood at the table while Kris sampled each dish and savored it. Clearly, the chef was becoming nervous as he waited for her verdict.
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