Standing On Top

Chapter 8c

Jake and Helen did continue to socialize with each other outside of the classroom. He took her out to dinner on a few occasions, to a Los Angeles Dodgers game one Friday night, and to a party at Matt's house. Everywhere they showed up, the media soon followed, dying to get a glimpse of Jake and Helen in some sort of compromising position. The public was fascinated with Helen for some reason Jake could not even begin to put his finger on. Not even Matt's newfound relationship with the famous porn star — something that should have been equally fascinating at least — could derail or mitigate this enthrallment. What they were looking for was some sort of proof of sexual involvement with Jake. Although their speculation of such a relationship was rampant, and though the circumstantial evidence from the Ferriday Hotel was somewhat suggestive, no one had ever been able to indisputably document Jake's penis in Helen's vagina. Nor had they been able to catch them spending the night together in the same room. Their experience at the Ferriday had taught them to be careful. Though they had slept together several times since Omaha, it was always at Jake's house or Helen's house and they always made sure to leave afterward.

For the most part, Helen remained good-natured and down to earth about her sudden celebrity status. She declined all interviews and answered every ambush attempt with a simple "no comment". She went about her normal, day-to-day business of teaching students how to fly, shopping for food, and going to practice and games for her softball league. Reporters followed her around endlessly, even going so far as to pose as normal spectators at the softball games, shoppers in the grocery stores, or prospective students looking into flight school. Their goal was to befriend her and get her to admit that sexual involvement was taking place. She generally spotted such lame attempts within the first few seconds and excused herself from the conversation. Even if she didn't key in that the friendly person she was talking to was actually a reporter, she did not admit anything to anyone.

All of that was pretty much irrelevant now, however. As of six days before, Jake was officially a licensed pilot. He had taken the written test and then gone up with an FAA certified evaluator in order to demonstrate his abilities. The flight had lasted almost two hours and the evaluator — a decrepit, steely-eyed man who looked like he might've once gone head-to-head with the Red Baron — put him through the paces with uncompromising rigidity. He had entered the cockpit with the pre-conceived notion that Jake had bribed and fucked his way through flight school. He was proven wrong. Jake performed every task with precision and passed every test thrown at him. The evaluator was impressed enough to shake Jake's hand after the final landing and apologize for assuming incompetence.

"No problem," Jake told him. "If you're actually sincere about this, however, why don't you go over and tell those assholes how well I did?" He pointed to the gaggle of reporters, photographers, and camera operators who had been tipped off by someone in the FAA bureaucracy that Jake would be taking his test flight today and had gathered in force — no doubt hoping to see Jake's airplane crash and burn, or, barring that, for him to break down in tears when he was failed.

The evaluator did just as Jake asked. He walked over and gave a small press conference, citing his credentials and experience and telling them that Jake Kingsley had performed every task asked of him extremely well and, in his opinion, was a fully qualified pilot. The group recorded everything said but none of them used the footage or the quotes in any way. They didn't want to print that Jake was a good pilot. Stories like that didn't sell newspapers or get people to tune into the news.

In any case, now that Jake was no longer a student, he and Helen were free to be caught in a compromising position since such a position was no longer compromising. This trip to Bodega Bay was not public knowledge yet, but it would be the moment that Jake filed his flight plan tomorrow and some clerk in the office leaked it to a reporter. It would take little effort for the press to check out the hotels in Bodega Bay and find that Jake and Helen were staying in one room while Matt and Kim were staying in another. Of course they didn't plan to actually admit anything when they were asked about it, but at least they didn't have to be as careful anymore.

The City of Ventura Softball Complex was located in the southern part of the small city. It covered more than three hundred acres of land and featured five different fields, all of which were professionally landscaped and equipped with lighting. The championship game between Helen's team, the Vixens, with a 12-3 record over the season, and their cross town rivals, the Dolphins, who were sporting a 13-2 record (although one of those losses was to the Vixens early in the season) was taking place on field number one. It wasn't hard to find that particular field. The bleacher seats were all packed to overfull and the parking lot was filled with media trucks. Camera crews had set up all around the field to record the action and the scorekeeping booth had been all but taken over by the ESPN play-by-play crew and their assistants.

"What a fuckin' zoo," Matt complained as they were forced to park in field three's parking lot, nearly a quarter mile away.

Fortunately, as friends of one of the players, they had three seats reserved for them just behind home plate. After claiming their seats they walked down near the home team dugout to say hello to Helen. Camera crews and reporters, noting their arrival, crowded around them, filming and snapping away.

Helen was out on the field, warming up for the game by tossing the softball around with three of her teammates. She was dressed in the standard uniform of white shorts, a maroon jersey with her last name and the number 18 on it, and a pair of cleats. She saw the commotion and trotted over to greet them.

"Hi, guys," she said, ignoring the cameras and reporters. "Glad you could come."

"It's nice to see you again, Helen," Kim said. "You look cute in your uniform."

"Thanks," she said. "You're looking cute too."

"What about me?" Matt asked. "No compliments for me?"

"You're adorable, Matt," she said. "Even if you did let a girl outdrink you."

Matt frowned in embarrassment. At the party Jake had taken Helen to at Matt's house, the two of them had gotten into a drinking contest. Helen had won it, remaining awake and coherent for nearly fifteen minutes after Matt passed out from overindulgence. "You caught me on a bad day," he said. "I had an empty stomach and I'd just gotten over a cold. We'll have a rematch one of these days."

"I'll be looking forward to it," Helen said. She turned her attention to Jake, offering him a flirty smile. "Did you find your seats okay?"

"Yep," Jake confirmed. "Right behind the plate. Are you gonna kick some ass out there?"

"You know it," she said. "I'd better get back out there. We're gonna start in about ten minutes."

"See you after the game," Jake said, giving her a little wave.

"Yep," she said brightly, trotting off onto the field, her sexy legs pumping, her large breasts bouncing, the ESPN cameras tracking her the whole way.

As soon as Jake and his companions turned back toward the stands, two reporters appeared from nowhere.

"Matt," one of them said. "What was that about a drinking contest? Have you actually socialized with Helen in the past?"

"Tell us about your relationship with Helen, Jake," another one demanded. "Do you still maintain there's nothing between you?"

Neither of them said anything. Not even 'no comment'. They went to the concession stand where, to their delight, they found that beer was for sale. Jake got the first round, paying for three twenty-four ounce cups of Miller Genuine Draft. They carried them back to their seats and settled in to watch the game.

Of course, it wasn't long before people began finding their way over to them. Most just wanted autographs or to take pictures of the famous trio. There were the others as well though. One man, who looked like a businessman dressed down for the evening, asked Kim if those orgasms on screen were really real.

"You've seen a lot of my movies, have you?" she asked him sweetly.

"Uh... well... I saw one once," he said, blushing. "It was at a friend's bachelor party."

"Did you like it?" she asked him.

"It was... you know... all right. I'm not really into that sort of thing... but... you know."

"Of course, hon," she said. "Well I'm here to tell you that I've never faked a genuine orgasm."

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," she confirmed.

He wandered off, pondering that information, not realizing until later that she hadn't actually answered his question at all.

Later, a mid-thirties woman wearing a smart pantsuit and a designer blouse, her hair done just right, approached and gave a steely glare at Kim.

"Something I can help you with?" Kim asked her.

"I was just curious," the woman said, "as to why you thought it the least bit appropriate that a woman such as yourself would show up at a family event such as this. Don't you have any propriety?"

Matt opened his mouth to say something but Kim dropped her hand to his leg, stopping him. She fielded the question personally.

"Are you just jealous of me?" she asked the woman.

"Jealous?" the woman asked incredulously. "Of you?"

"Yeah," Kim said. "After all, I get paid to have some guy stick his cock up my ass and you let your husband do it for free."

The woman was reduced to nonsensical mutterings like "well!" and "I never!". She stomped off and was not seen or heard from again.

Jake began to understand why Matt liked the porn star so much. She was basically a female version of himself.

Eventually things settled down a bit and they were able to enjoy the game. This was fortunate because it turned out to be a pretty good one. The Dolphins came out to an early lead in the second inning by driving in three runs on a series of singles. The streak — while damaging — was brought to an end by star shortstop Helen Brody, who did what the position called for and stopped two line drives short of the outfield. The first she hurled to second base for what turned out to be a double play. The second, she caught on the fly, snapping out her hand and nabbing it neatly from flight for the third out.

The Vixens came back with two runs in the third inning and then two more in the fifth, putting them up on top by one. Helen — who had come into the game with a .415 batting average — was involved in two of the runs, hitting an RBI in the third and being driven in herself in the fifth.

The Dolphins answered back with a two run homer in the top of the seventh and final inning, putting them back up by one. The Vixens took the field for their last at-bat and quickly grounded out twice in a row, making it look like things were pretty much wrapped up. This was not to be, however. Two of the Vixens hit back-to-back singles, putting them on first and third base respectively.

This brought Helen to the plate. She hit a long foul ball her first pitch, took two balls in a row for the next two, and then hit another foul ball for the fifth. The sixth pitch — which would have been an out if hit foul again — sailed over the plate and she hammered it down the first base line, just barely dropping it inside fair territory. It rolled all the way to the fence before the outfielder could get her hand on it. She threw it to the cut-off girl who hurled it toward home, but by then it was too late. Two runs had scored, ending the game with a score of 6-5, Vixens. They were now the regional women's softball champions.

The entire team, and most of their family and friends who had gathered to watch, caravanned over to the Riverview Bar and Grill in downtown Ventura for a celebration. Jake, Helen, Matt, and Kim went with them. Jake bought everyone in the house their first round of drinks. Matt bought everyone the second round. Kim, not to be outdone, bought the third. These gestures served to make them extremely popular with everyone in the bar — even if the feeling was only temporary. Though many people came up to chat with the celebrities in their midst, no one asked for an autograph and no one posed any inflammatory questions.

The exception to this was the reporters among them. Half a dozen or so had followed the group to the bar. After enjoying three free drinks courtesy of the celebrities they were stalking, they began to move in, hoping that the lips of their targets would be loosened by the beer. They weren't. When it became obvious to the members of the crowd that the reporters were annoying the foursome, they moved in and, using thinly veiled threats of violence, gradually convinced the reporters that this was not exactly a friendly environment for them. One by one, they left, although they didn't go far. They staked out the parking lot, waiting for their targets to leave so they could follow them.

The celebration of victory went on for almost two hours. Jake met every member of Helen's team and every friend of Helen's teammates. He shook hands, engaged in friendly conversation, and, to his surprise, actually found himself having a good time. Matt and Kim seemed to be having a good time as well, although no matter how many times Kim told people to call her by her given name, they still called her Mary Ann or Miss Cummings.

At one point, when the two women went off together to go to the ladies room (with a gaggle of hanger-ons trailing behind them), Jake and Matt made their way up to the bar to score another round of drinks.

"Did you tell Helen about the tour yet?" Matt asked.

"No," he said. "I was waiting for a better time. I'm not sure how she's gonna react."

"I thought you two were just booty call buds," Matt said. "Is it getting to be more then that?"

Jake shrugged. "I'm not sure how to define this relationship just yet," he admitted. "We each have our own lives that we lead independently of each other, but at the same time... well, we're starting to see each other a lot more too. And not just for sex."

"Yeah," Matt said. "I know where you're coming from."

"Oh?" Jake said. "Have you told Kim about the tour yet?"

"Not yet," he said. "I'll lay it on her tomorrow sometime. Maybe on the flight to Bodega."

"That would force me to tell Helen at the same time," Jake told him.

"I'll hold off if you want," Matt said. "Maybe it would be better to wait until after the trip anyway."

"No," Jake said, "I think you're right. We should tell them tomorrow. You know how women are. If we put it off until after the trip they'll be pissed off at us for waiting so long."

"Kind of interesting," Matt said.

"What's that?"

"That I'm worried about a woman getting pissed off at me. I mean, sure, I've pissed off lots of bitches in my time, but it was always easier just to get rid of them when that happened. This is the first time I've had to think about the aftermath of it."

"Maybe you're growing up," Jake suggested.

"Naw," Matt said, scoffing at the idea. "It just means I've finally found some premo puss and I don't want to stop fucking it yet."

To their surprise, both women took the news in stride when it was broken to them five thousand feet above the California central coast. Neither seemed particularly happy about it, but they shrugged it off.

"You're a touring musician," Helen said from her position in the front seat. "You have to go out on tour, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Kim, who was sitting in the cramped back seat next to Matt. "It sounds like a lot of fun, actually."

"How long will you be gone?" Helen asked.

"It's not certain that we're even going yet," Jake said. "National wants to play games on the touring contract and we told Pauline that we won't accept anything less than one hundred percent of the tour costs paid by them. They might just decide to scrap the whole thing."

"Do you really think so?" Helen asked.

"It's possible," Jake said, making a minute adjustment to their heading to compensate for the onshore wind, which seemed to be a little stronger then he'd been told in the weather report.

"How likely though?" Kim asked.

"They'll probably cave," Matt said. "It's like Jake is always saying, National goes with the option that makes them the most money. Even if they paid for every last aspect of this tour, they still stand to make a lot more then they're putting out in increased album sales revenue."

"So, more than likely, you're going?" Helen asked.

"Yeah," Jake said. "More than likely."

"And how long would you be gone if you went?" she asked.

"About four months," Jake said.

"That's not so bad," Helen said.

"No," agreed Kim. "Not bad at all."

They flew on and there was no more discussion about the upcoming tour. At 3:17 PM, just four minutes behind the ETA he'd filed in his flight plan, Jake brought them in for a neat landing at Bodega Bay's single airport.

"You must've had a great teacher," Helen said proudly as he turned onto the taxiway and headed for the small general aviation terminal.

"She was all right," Jake said with a shrug. "She had good material to work with."

There was no limousine service in Bodega Bay — which boasted a population of less than a thousand — nor was there any taxi service. There was a rental car service at the airport, however, and Jake had reserved them a Ford Taurus, the best vehicle available in their fleet.

They piled in and drove to The Tides Hotel, which was reputed to be the finest in town. There they ran into a small group of reporters and photographers, eager to snap pictures and shout questions at the foursome as they entered the hotel.

"Will you and Helen be staying in the same room, Jake?"

"What are your plans here in Bodega Bay? Are you going fishing?

"What about the rumors that the four of you are swingers? Any truth to that?"

They no commented their way into the lobby and checked in. Jake, as host of the trip, paid for the two adjoining suites with his credit card. They were given the keys and they went upstairs.

The suites were not the most elaborate they had ever been in, but they weren't bad. They had sitting rooms, large showers, and even hot tubs. The view was impressive enough. The front windows looked out over the harbor and all of the fishing boats at anchor there.

"Are they going to break into our room again and take stuff out of my purse?" Helen asked as they unpacked their clothing and put away their toiletries.

"No, I don't think we'll have to worry about that anymore," Jake said. "I'm pretty sure the word got around through whatever network these hotels use that there are consequences to invasion of privacy."

The consequences he was referring to had been rather severe for the Faraday Hotel chain. They had not gone unpunished for their lack of discretion during Jake and Helen's visit. Within days of the debacle that had kicked off the public's fascination with Helen, Pauline had managed to organize an official boycott of any Faraday Hotel anywhere in the world by any musical group signed with any of the three major American recording labels. Jake, in order to punctuate the point, had used his friendship with Celia Valdez to ask a favor of her fiancé, Greg Oldfellow. Greg was a prominent member of the Screen Actor's Guild and, with his support, the SAG had voted to similarly boycott the Faraday chain. No SAG member would patronize the establishment on either personal or business related trips. Because of these actions — which had been well-publicized as they were occurring — Ronald Dithers, the "anonymous hotel employee" had been discovered to be the source of the leak. He was fired from his job and the Omaha Police Department had actually opened an investigation into his actions, promising criminal charges would be filed if the evidence proved worthy of them.

"Yes, that was great, wasn't it?" Helen asked dreamily. "It made me feel powerful that all of that was done on my behalf."

"There are some perks to being famous," Jake said.

"It almost made the whole humiliating experience worthwhile."

"I suppose," Jake said. "Care for some wine?" A complimentary bottle of Sonoma County Chardonnay had been left chilling in an ice bucket for their pleasure.

"Hell yeah," she said with a smile. "Let's drink it right out of the bottle while we're in the hot tub."

Jake smiled. "I like the way you think."

They sat naked in the hot tub and drank the bottle of Chardonnay, passing it back and forth and swigging directly from the neck. When it was empty, they retired to the bedroom and enjoyed a forty-five minute session of steamy, no-holds-barred sex in which Helen demonstrated her squirting ability twice — once all over Jake's face and once all over his crotch. He did not wear a condom during the act and at its completion he ejaculated directly inside of her, taking her on her word that she was on the pill.

They drifted off to sleep afterward, napping for the better part of two hours. They then took a shower together and enjoyed another quickie under the hot spray. After dressing, Jake called Matt on the phone and they made plans for dinner. Not wanting to subject themselves to the public, they ordered room service sent up. In addition to the food, Jake had them send up three more bottles of Chardonnay for him and Helen and a bottle of Jack Daniels and a twelve pack of Coke for Matt and Kim.

They ate in Jake's room, gathering around the large dining room table. The food was decent, especially after they enjoyed an appetizer of potent greenbud. After dropping the dirty dishes into the hall, they stayed at the table, drinking and talking.

"All right," Helen said after about her eleventh glass of wine, "I've got to ask you this, Kim."

"What do you gotta ask?" Kim said, slurring badly. She was working on her ninth Jack and Coke and had just finished off the roach left over from the pre-dinner joint.

"I know people ask you this all the time," Helen said, "and you usually give them vuge... uh vag... uh..."

"Vague?" Jake provided.

Helen laughed drunkenly. "That's it!" she yelled. "Vague! They usually give you vague answers."

"You mean I usually give them vague answers?" Kim asked.

The two women cracked up, hugging each other for a moment. Jake and Matt were both kind of turned on when they saw their breasts push together during the gesture.

"Anyway," Helen said when they broke apart. "What I wanna know... and know truthfully, is... are those real orgasms you do, or are they fake?"

"The ones on screen?" Kim asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I saw that movie you did."

"Which one?" Kim asked.

"Bed, Butt, and Breakfast," Helen said.

"Oh yes," Kim said nostalgically. "I was almost nominated for an Oscar for that one, you know."

This caused another round of laughter, another hug, another accidental but highly arousing collision of the two women's large breasts.

"So give," Helen said. "Are you coming on screen, or not?"

"Sadly, not," Kim said. "I'm just a really good actress."

Helen was disillusioned. "Not even once?" she asked.

Kim shook her head. "Not even once," she confirmed. "Mattie, tell 'em what I'm like when I really come."

"Quiet as a fuckin' mouse," Matt said. "She hardly makes a sound."

"Really?" Jake asked. He was a little disillusioned himself.

"Yep," Matt confirmed. "It kind of caught me off-guard the first time. After a while though, I kind of got to like it. Her pussy does this spasming thing when she's coming. I mean... well... all bitches do that to some degree, but with her... damn. It's like you're caught in some kind of machine."

"Wow," Jake said. He had assumed that Kim would be kind of loose in the vagina since her job was to take outrageously large penises inside of it.

"Did Jake ever tell you what I do when I come?" Helen asked, not wanting to be outdone.

Matt and Kim were immediately interested.

"No," Matt said. "What do you do?"

"Do tell," said Kim.

"Are you sure you want to tell them about that, Helen?" Jake asked.

"Hey, we're all friends here, right?" Helen said. She looked at the guitar player and the porn star. "I'm a squirter," she said.

"No fuckin' shit?" Matt yelled, excited.

Helen looked to Jake for confirmation of this phenomenon.

"No fuckin' shit," he confirmed. "Bigfoot really does exist."

"Wow," Kim said. "That's hot. How much comes out? I've done some fake squirting before in my earlier flicks, but that was just peeing. Is it really... like... you know..."

"It's... uh... vaginal secretions," Jake said, electing to go clinical on them. "I can tell by the smell and the taste."

"She squirted in your face?" Matt asked. "God-fucking-damn that's nasty. That's even better then snorting coke out of a bitch's ass crack."

"You ever thought about doing some porn, Helen?" Kim asked. "They'd pay top dollar for a hot chick with big, natural titties that can squirt on camera."

"No, I never thought about that," Helen said.

They talked on for the next hour about squirting and life in the porn industry and sex in general. Finally, at around eleven o'clock, Matt announced that they'd better get to bed since they had to get up in six hours in order to catch their chartered boat.

The two couples said their goodnights to each other (Helen and Kim shared another hug, this time actually grinding their breasts together and ending it with a kiss on the cheek). They went to their separate suites and closed the door that connected them.

Helen and Jake took off their clothes and fell naked into bed together. They turned toward each other and fucked quickly and forcefully, creating another large wet spot on the bedding. They then curled up for sleep, both on their sides facing the window, Jake cuddled up behind Helen.

"What's going to happen to us when you go out on tour?" Helen asked him quietly.

"I don't know," Jake said. "What do you think is going to happen to us?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Finally, she whispered, "I don't know either."