Thrill Ride

(c) Copyright 2001 by Wiseguy




The first time I rode on a roller coaster, I was eight 
years old.  My brother Frank dared me to do it, even said 
he'd go along, so it seemed safe enough.  He strapped me in 
next to him in the front seat of an old wooden-frame roller 
coaster set halfway into a clump of trees, and off we went.  

That 60-second ride seemed to last an hour and a half.  I 
remember the clanking sound of the pull chain dragging us 
up to the first peak, and the sensation of my stomach 
rising into my throat as we plunged down.  I could feel the 
wooden support structure flexing as we rounded the hairpin 
turns, and see the trees whizzing by seemingly just inches 
away.  When the car plunged into a tunnel of some sort, 
leaving me in total blackness with nothing but the 
sensation of speed and the metal safety rail to connect me 
to the physical world, I almost peed my pants.

When we got to the end, Frank slapped me on the back 
proudly.  "You were awesome, Jimmy boy," he said.  "Not one 
scream.  You must have nerves of steel.  How was it?"

I looked up at my big brother, gave him two thumbs up, and 
then puked on his shoes.




Twenty years later, I found myself cruising down the 
interstate toward Xtreme World, a brand new theme park.  
Why the hell am I doing this, I asked myself.

The answer was simple:  Mel, the incredibly attractive red-
headed lady in the passenger seat next to me, was seriously 
into roller coasters and thrill rides of every sort, and I 
wanted to be seriously into Mel.   We'd been dating 
casually for about six weeks, but things had been getting 
cozier of late.  Mel seemed to be getting very comfortable 
around me, and our playful conversational banter had 
started taking on a slight sexual flavor.  She didn't 
outright say it, but I got the impression from her 
roommate, Joy, that this trip was a final compatibility 
test -- if I passed, I'd be eligible for full-time consort 
status.

So I pulled out all the stops.  I went to the Xtreme World 
web site and studied the online map, the publicity blurbs 
on the various rides and attractions, the safety rules ... 
the whole nine yards.  I called up Frank and borrowed his 
van for the weekend, knowing it would be more comfortable 
for a long trip than either my pickup or Mel's Jetta.

The girls had been suitably impressed when I picked them up 
at 6:00am that Saturday.  "Nice," Mel had said, eyeing the 
big, emerald-green vehicle.  "I was expecting a minivan."

I grinned.  "Frank despises minivans," I explained.  "Where 
he lives it's practically a requirement that anyone with 2 
kids have one, but he'd give up his left nut before he'd 
drive one of those pathetic things.  This is a real van."

It certainly was:  a 15-passenger conversion van complete 
with raised ceiling, dark tinted windows for privacy, and 
swiveling captain's chairs for the pilot and co-pilot.  
Frank and his wife only had two kids; they didn't really 
need the seating capacity, just lots of space to haul 
around the kids with their sports gear, so Frank and I made 
a few customizations.  We removed three of the four bench 
seats to open up floor space.  In their place, along the 
left side of the interior, we installed a long, deep wooden 
bench with a hinged lid, taking advantage of the existing 
floor cleats to secure it in place.  The bench provided a 
closed storage space for gear or groceries, and in a pinch 
could seat several passengers comfortably using genuine GM 
lap belts we bought from a parts dealer.  The open space 
remaining was roughly the size of a compact pickup's box, 
which made the van handy for carting around large objects 
from furniture to sheets of plywood to dirt bikes.

For our trip, the back area was empty.  We used the bench 
to stow a large cooler containing sandwiches and drinks -- 
none of us had been to Xtreme World before, but we assumed 
that any food available there would be grossly overpriced -
- and duffle bags containing a change of clothes for each 
of us.

The trip was a quiet one.  Joy happily stretched out on the 
bench seat and went to sleep as soon as we got onto the 
highway.  Mel took advantage of the reclining passenger 
seat and cat-napped as well, waking every so often to check 
our progress on the map.

We pulled into the parking lot at 8:50, which gave us 40 
minutes to kill before the gates opened.  There was already 
a crowd at the ticket pavilion, so we dropped Mel there to 
get our tickets while I started the hunt for a parking 
space.  Finding one big enough to accommodate the van was 
not easy, but after some searching I settled on a spot at 
the far end of Row 7C, where we would have some extra space 
to the right for the main doors.

One advantage to a full-sized van is that it's pretty easy 
to spot in a crowded lot.  Mel found us easily, smiling and 
waving the tickets as she approached.  She also had a 
printed map of the park, which we spread out on the floor 
to finalize our strategy.

Xtreme World was divided into three sections:  Xtreme Kidz, 
an area featuring basic rides aimed at the young ones; Wet 
'n' Wild, where all the rides were water based (Appropriate 
attire strongly recommended, the map noted); and Hardcore 
Haven, which catered to hardened thrill-seekers like Mel.  
Since we were already wearing bathing suits under our 
clothes, we elected to start out in the water park area.  
When we were sufficiently water-logged, we'd come back out 
to the van to have a light picnic lunch and change into dry 
clothes, then hit the hardcore section for as long as our 
stomachs could stand it.

Before we noticed the time passing, we heard an air horn 
blast signaling the opening of the gates.  We quickly 
secured everything we didn't absolutely need inside the 
bench out of sight, locked up, and joined the crowd flowing 
into the gates.  Mel handed each of us a purple plastic 
bracelet, which we were to wear on our right wrists.  "It's 
a VIP pass," she explained.  "They cost extra, but you get 
to use special VIP lines for the rides -- they're supposed 
to be a lot shorter."

Bracelets in place, we strolled quickly past the clowns and 
cartoon characters that marked the Xtreme Kidz zone and 
followed the blue arrows on the pavement which would lead 
us to Wet 'n' Wild.  

The first test of my nerve came as soon as we found the 
entrance.  To our right a set of steps made of wood and 
metal, like playground equipment, wound gently downhill.  
Ten feet of flat walkway would lead to five or ten steps, 
followed by more level space, then more steps ... I lost 
count of the steps, but it was a very long way down.  Slow, 
too -- the walkway was full of people more or less standing 
still as they waited for the slower ones to make the 
descent.

Or, cheery signs pointed out, the more adventurous could 
choose to "Get Wet Right Away!".  Left of the stairway 
entrance, eight plastic-coated chutes awaited the 
impatient.  Attendants at the top of the chutes were 
checking people's height and handing out plastic sacks with 
drawstrings, in which people were placing their shoes and 
purses for what promised to be a fast ride down.  I tried 
to get a look over the edge to see how fast, but the safety 
rail kept me too far back.  

Mel had a devil-may-care look on her face as she angled 
toward the opening for the chutes.  Joy hesitated just a 
moment, then followed.  What could I do but run over to 
join them?  

I dutifully secured my loose belongings in one of the 
plastic drawstring bags, looping the string over my wrist a 
couple of times for safekeeping.  Sitting down at the top 
of the slide, I finally got a good look at the bottom:  the 
slide went straight down at an insanely steep angle, then 
leveled out for a bit and took a final drop into a wide, 
round area walled with round bumpers.  I could see bodies 
rushing out the bottoms of the slides, arms up and legs 
splayed, and collecting around the bumpers.  

I froze.  This is insane, I said to myself.  What rational 
human being would want to fall a story and a half and land 
in a pile of other bodies?  To my left, I heard a loud cry 
as Joy launched herself down the chute.  I watched 
spellbound as her body rocketed down the straight drop and 
shot across the flat, then disappeared for a second before 
I saw her hit the bumper.  Was she moving?

"Are you going down, sir?  We need to keep things moving up 
here."

The attendant's voice startled me.  "Uh, yeah," I stammered 
weakly.  "Here goes."

From the next lane over, Mel reached over and squeezed my 
hand.  "C'mon, stud," she dared me.  "Race you to the 
bottom."  There was a sparkle in her eyes that seemed 
immune to all misfortune.  I saw her start to push off, and 
knew it was now or never.

I pushed off just behind her and felt the world drop away.  
My arms flew up of their own accord, and I felt the cool 
rush of air and water running up my shorts.  The plateau 
was smoother than I thought, with a nice gentle curve 
making for an easy transition from almost falling to almost 
riding.  I felt myself slowing a bit, looked around for 
Mel, but saw nothing but blue bumper and sky as the bottom 
dropped out again.  If not for the feel of the water and 
the smooth plastic chute on my back I would have sworn I 
was free falling.  The chute curved ever so slightly and 
cradled me, caught me as I slowed and turned out.  Before I 
could completely understand what was happening I was on my 
back, sliding gently into a soft round bumper at the end of 
the slide.  I grabbed the bumper and started to get up, but 
my legs were rubber.

"Incoming!"  I heard Mel's voice and turned to see her 
sliding toward me feet first.  I scooted back a bit and she 
landed neatly under my left arm, letting the momentum carry 
her into a sitting position.  "Hooo-eee!" she cried.  "Now 
that's what I call an express lane!"

As we climbed over the bumper to make way for the next 
round of falling bodies, I noticed that my vision seemed 
sharper and clearer; colors were richer, lines better 
defined; and the air as I breathed it in tasted better.  
Then again, maybe that was because I had a sexy redhead 
next to me in a wet, tight-fitting tank suit.

I admired Mel's athletic form as she bent to put on her 
sandals.  Others around us were showing more skin, but the 
black tankini Mel was wearing worked beautifully for her.  
The top fit around her ribs and bust like a second skin, 
leaving every curve clearly defined.  Denim cut-off shorts 
kept me from seeing much below the bare midriff, but that 
just gave my imagination something to work on.

"If those eyes were hands, you could get arrested," Joy 
remarked, coming up from behind me.  She was in a bright 
red strapless one-piece with a short wraparound skirt 
hugging her hips.  

"I'd just plead insanity," I replied, nodding my head back 
toward the water slide.  "Throw myself on the mercy of the 
court and beg for leniency."

Mel winked and pulled me in for a lusty kiss.  "You'll 
beg," she promised, "but not just yet."  Teasingly, she 
wiggled her butt and marched on to the next ride, pulling 
me along by the hand.  

It was called the DeLuge.  It looked like a giant luge 
track except there was no snow or ice anywhere, just the 
blue-green chute itself sitting above a pool of water.  
Every few seconds a dark shape rushed through, the sounds 
of rushing water and human screams trailing behind.  The 
line started a good hundred feet before the gate; I could 
see the unbroken trail of bodies filling up the customary 
rat-maze leading to the platform itself.  

"Shit," I muttered, covering up the relief I felt at seeing 
the long line.  "It'll be two hours before we get to the 
end of this."

Mel grinned broadly.  "Au contraire, my intrepid one," she 
said, holding up her wrist with the purple bracelet on it.  
"We are prepared."  

I looked down at my own wrist and regarded the plastic 
bracelet.  Very Intense Player, it said in big, bold 
letters.  We'll see, was my silent reply.

Sure enough, we walked past the end of the line and found a 
purple VIP sign directing us to a different entrance.  A 
purple stripe on the floor led us on a short, straight path 
in full view of the waiting masses and up to the platform.  
There were a grand total of twelve people ahead of us.

"This is awesome, isn't it?" Mel asked me, her eyes bright 
with excitement.

"It's something else," I replied, looking at the miserable 
people in the long line.  "I wonder why more of them didn't 
buy these bracelets."

"They can't," Mel explained.  "The park only sells a 
limited number of these each day; I was lucky to be able to 
get them."

"How limited?" I wondered out loud. 

"Very limited," said a female voice.  I turned and saw 
another party had come up behind us.  The speaker was a 
young brunette, maybe 19 from the looks of her.  She wore a 
thin mesh athletic shirt over a minimal dark green bikini.  
"One hundred can be sold before the gates open.  Another 
fifty go on sale at noon, 2:00pm, and 4:00pm.  The theory 
is, much more than that and the VIP's will have to wait too 
long for rides."

"Does it work?"

"So far," she replied.  "One thing, though:  if you leave 
the park for any reason, you're supposed to give back the 
pass and you can't get another unless you manage to score a 
new one.  So don't go out to your car until you're done for 
the day."  The brunette looked around, leaned toward us a 
little more and lowered her voice.  "Or, take the bracelets 
off and stuff them into a pocket before you get near the 
gate.  But don't let any of the park staff see you do it."

We nodded discreetly and thanked our co-conspirator for the 
tip.  A rushing water sound called our attention back to 
the platform, where an empty carrier had appeared.  It was 
our turn already.

The carrier looked like a cross between a luge sled and an 
oversized kayak.  It had a cigar-shaped fiberglass body and 
a long bench seat running up the middle.  An attendant 
checked our bracelets, making sure that day's date was 
marked on them in permanent marker, and had us sit 
straddling the bench and lean way back.  I was in the rear, 
with Mel sitting between my legs and Joy between Mel's.  A 
pair of steel bars were brought down along each side.  "You 
can hold on to each other," the attendant told us, "or to 
the bars.  It doesn't really matter which, because once 
this baby gets going you won't be able to fall out anyway.  
Keep your hands inside the pod at all times, and have fun."

Feeling bold, I snaked my hands around Mel's waist and 
locked the fingers together just below her breasts.  "Just 
watch what you grab onto," Mel warned me with a wink and a 
smile.  She got a firm grip on my legs, and Joy grabbed 
onto the bars.  "Ready," Mel announced to the attendant.  
He gave a thumbs-up sign to someone out of my view, and 
with a slight lunge the capsule started forward.

It started out faster than I expected, but smooth.  I felt 
the sensation of being pulled up a hill, which was fairly 
accurate.  There was time for me to note that the capsule 
was almost the full width of the channel in which we rode; 
the water and a few rollers seemed to be all that kept us 
from scraping the walls.  

The sound of rushing water grew louder as we crested the 
hill, and then the ride began for real.  We saw the 
waterfall seconds before our pod took us through it, 
getting us soaked in the downpour.  As soon as we were 
clear the track dropped and went hurtling downward, the 
rushing water sound drowning out everything else as the 
volume of water in the channel more than doubled.  So this 
is what getting washed down a drainpipe feels like, I 
thought as the little pod careened around bends, swaying 
wildly from side to side as it banked with the turns, the 
forces at work pressing Mel's body against mine.  We took 
another plunge downward and entered a corkscrew-like 
section that looped us around at least three or four times.  
Finally we started to slow, our momentum carrying us up a 
gentle incline and back to the platform where we stopped.  
The safety bars clicked and swung out of the way.

Mel tilted her head back to me.  "Ahem," she said, patting 
my arms.  That's when I realized that during the ride my 
hands had crept upward several inches and were now firmly 
lifting up on her breasts.

I whipped them out of the way instantly.  "I'm sorry, Mel," 
I stammered.  "I swear that was not intentional."  I could 
feel my face turning beet red.

Mel gave me another of those enigmatic smiles.  "Of course 
not," she agreed, a touch of laughter in her voice.  Then I 
felt her hands slide over my legs and up my thighs until 
they were just inside the leg openings of my trunks.  Her 
fingers spread out wide and squeezed as she pushed herself 
up.  Fortunately for me the attendant was too busy looking 
at Joy and Mel to notice my sudden hard-on.

Next on the agenda was the Paddle Wheel, a huge contraption 
that looked like the back end of an old-fashioned river 
boat.  It turned out to be something like a ferris wheel -- 
we sat together in a carrier attached to the rim of a wide 
wheel which carried us up and around in circles.  At the 
bottom of every revolution it dipped us waist-deep into the 
water, carrying water and us to the top.  At the top the 
carrier tipped backward, dumping the water onto the 
unsuspecting heads of the people a few carriers back.  
After the wild ride we'd had in the DeLuge, it was a bit of 
a letdown.

The next attraction made up for it.  The River Chase had us 
securely fastened into what looked like a high-tech speed 
boat.  The boat took off quickly and fell in just behind 
another like it, going quickly to full throttle.  We felt 
the boat banging up and down against the waves as we raced 
down a narrow creek, apparently in pursuit of the boats 
ahead of us.  

Then the fun really began:  just ahead, I spotted the 
unmistakable figure of a man swimming in the creek.  We 
were heading straight for him.   Joy screamed and turned 
her head, anticipating a sickening impact, but the boat 
suddenly lurched and swerved, just barely missing the 
swimmer.  

"Holy shit!" I cried, looking back to see if the man was 
okay.  He was fine -- in fact, he was back in his original 
position, apparently waiting for the next boat to cross his 
path.  "Jesus," I said.  "It was just a dummy."

Mel leaned over to me and shouted to make herself heard 
over the din of the motor.  "Who cares?" she replied.  
"This is great!  It's like being in an action movie."

Our boat picked up even more speed and the creek bent to 
the left, narrowing slightly.  At intervals a floating log, 
a boulder, and an animatronic alligator turned up in our 
path, forcing our boat to execute a split-second maneuver 
to avoid catastrophe.   We came upon a short drop and the 
boat went briefly airborne, landing back in the water with 
a crash and a thud, losing no speed at all in the process.  
The creek took us into a tunnel, leaving us in total 
blackness for a few seconds, then through a wall of falling 
water and back to our starting dock.

Mel was glowing as we climbed out of the boat.  "Hooo-eee!  
I love this place!"  

"This is awesome," I agreed.  Looking at her, seeing the 
incredible charge in her eyes and the flush of excitement 
in her face, had me starting to understand a little bit of 
her attraction to the rides.   After jumping off a cliff, 
getting flushed down a huge drainpipe, and taking part in a 
pseudo-death-defying speedboat chase, I was feeling pretty 
pumped up myself.

Poor Joy, on the other hand, was looking a little green.  
"I need a break, guys," she pleaded.

"You okay?" I asked, concerned.

"I will be.  Just give me twenty minutes to sit on 
something that doesn't move."

We found Joy a nice, dry, permanently fixed bench to sit on 
and recuperate while Mel and I braved something called the 
TurboLift.  From a distance, it looked like a huge water 
tower with big, round chutes winding around it from the top 
to the ground.  Every few seconds a burst of water shot out 
of the top of the tower along with a body.  We couldn't see 
what happened to the body from the ground, but I had a 
pretty good idea that was what the spiral chute was for.

Once again, thanks to our purple bracelets there was hardly 
any time wasted waiting.  We reached the base of the tower 
and were ushered into a separate entrance by the waiting 
attendants.  

Mel went first.  A female attendant handed her an oversized 
inner tube, small on the inside but very wide, and helped 
Mel put it on so it rode just below her breasts, giving her 
some verbal instructions I didn't hear.  She had Mel step 
through a large metal door with a porthole and closed it 
behind her, turning an impressive-looking wheel several 
times until she seemed satisfied that the door was tight.  
I could see Mel's face and some of her upper body through 
the porthole in the door; she adjusted something on the 
rubber tube and then gave the attendant the thumbs-up sign.  
The attendant held up three fingers, then two, then one, 
and hit a large red button next to the door.  I heard a 
faint engine sound, saw Mel seem to tense, and then she 
lifted straight up and out of sight -- the only thing left 
behind the door was a solid column of water.

The water receded quickly; a green light above the door 
came on and the attendant opened the door.  "Ready?" she 
asked, looking at me.

"I guess so," I replied, less than convinced.

She chuckled.  "Relax," she told me.  "This is my favorite 
ride -- it's a major kick."  I stepped forward and she 
handed me another of the oversized inner tubes, which I 
quickly stepped into.  "Get this nice and firmly seated 
just under your armpits," she instructed me.  "Once you're 
inside the chamber, pull on this cord and the tube will 
inflate so it seals up the space around you.  Take a quick 
peek around, make sure you can't see any gaps around you; 
if it looks right, give me a thumbs up.  I'll count three 
and then off you go.  Got it?"

"Got it."  I stepped into the chamber where Mel had been 
just a minute before.  It reminded me of the barrel of a 
gun:  smooth walls, carefully polished and perfectly 
cylindrical, with a very slight groove spiraling up the 
inside.  I found the cord the attendant had shown me and 
tugged on it.  The tube hissed and expanded, filling up all 
available space between my body and the walls of the tower.  
I looked through the porthole at the attendant and gave her 
the signal; she counted down three and hit the button.

I heard the engine noises again, much louder this time, and 
within seconds my entire body below the inner tube was 
under water.  I felt pressure against my legs and stomach 
as the water kept rushing in, meeting resistance from my 
weight and the inner tube around my chest.  My feet lifted 
slowly off the floor, and then in a sudden rush I was 
shooting straight upward, twisting slowly in a spiral.  The 
speed picked up, and I looked up to see the sky coming 
toward me at a breakneck pace.  I shot straight up out of 
the top of the tower, the water spraying around me, and for 
one brief moment had a spectacular view of the entire park.  

Then gravity reasserted itself.  I landed on my butt on a 
slippery side of the tower's peak and slid downward.  A 
subtle grooving in the tower surface channeled me toward 
the opening of a tubular slide.  My arms went high over my 
head as I plunged into the spiral and began spinning again, 
the rubber doughnut guiding me smoothly down the track.  
After an eternity of spinning and falling, the track ended 
and I landed softly in a small, shallow pool with more of 
those large inflated bumpers to break my fall.  

I shook my head to clear it, looked around, and found Mel 
beaming at me.  "Helluva ride, wasn't it?"

"Oh, yeah," I agreed, still trying to figure out how to 
make my legs work again.  "Thrill a minute."

Mel laughed and helped me up.  She reached under my inner 
tube and worked a valve of some sort, causing it to 
deflate.  "Ready for more?" Mel asked me as we handed my 
tube to an attendant.

"Sure thing," I lied, breathless and dizzy but very happy 
to be leaning on that luscious body for support.

She laughed again, that wild and unpredictable laugh.  
"Well I've about had it with being soaked," she replied.  
"What do you say we collect Joy, get some dry clothes and 
have lunch?"

"Okay," I deadpanned, "if you're sure."

Mel stopped laughing and gave me a bear hug.  "You've been 
a great sport," she said sincerely.  "It's okay to let me 
know if I'm pushing you too far."

I smiled back weakly and managed not to puke.

We found Joy huddled on her bench, looking a little better 
than when we had left her.   "Do you know what I discovered 
sitting here?" she asked us.  "That it's not nearly warm 
enough yet to be sitting still in a wet bathing suit."  
Layers of goose bumps testified to her need for a little 
warmth and dryness.  When we told her our plans, she was 
more than ready to join in.  We ducked into the restrooms 
and quietly removed our bracelets, then headed out to the 
van, getting our left hands stamped to allow us to reenter 
the park after lunch.  Nobody gave us a second look.


By the time we reached the van we were all shivering 
slightly, the breeze reminding us that it was spring, not 
summer.  I took out a large mylar sun screen and placed it 
across the windshield; between that and the dark tinted 
side windows, we would have as much privacy as we could 
reasonably expect in a parking lot.  I offered to let the 
ladies change first, and was mildly disappointed when they 
didn't invite me in with them.  I was a good sport, though; 
I turned around and leaned my back against the main door, 
innocently watching the fence across the lane from us.

Okay, maybe not so innocently.  A hint of movement drew my 
eye to the side view mirror just in time to see Mel's 
reflection as she pulled on a skimpy black pair of panties.  
I caught a splendid three-quarters view of her bottom and 
side, including the side of a breast, and my eyes feasted 
on it.  I hadn't seen Mel before in anything less than her 
tank suit, so the illicit view of all that beautiful skin 
was irresistible.  It was also a mild form of torture:  
part of me knew that I should look away, and part of me 
kept hoping she would turn around just a little more before 
she put anything else on.

Then the prurient thrill turned to horror as Mel's head 
turned and our eyes met in the mirror.   She gave me a 
steely gaze; an arm came up to cover her breasts, and she 
wagged an admonishing finger at me.  I cringed and looked 
away, not daring to turn my head again until the van door 
clicked open behind me.  Mel and Joy jumped out, dressed 
for action in shorts and T-shirts.  Mel put her mouth near 
my ear.  "That's two demerits, mister," she whispered.  I 
couldn't tell if she was serious or joking.

I found out a minute or so later, when I unzipped my duffle 
bag to get out my clean clothes and they weren't there.  I 
crawled around the van, stark naked, checking under the 
seats, inside the bench, anywhere I could think of.  Then I 
saw Mel watching me in the side view mirror with a catlike 
grin on her face.  The front passenger door popped open and 
she leaned in, poking her head between the seats.  "Nice 
butt," she said with a wink while I hastily shielded Big 
Jim and the twins with my hands.  She tossed my clothes 
over; for a second I reached out to catch them, then 
overrode the instinct and covered up again.  "Very nice," 
she remarked.

"Two demerits," I croaked, trying to be nonchalant and 
failing.

"So now we're even," she countered.  With a quick leer and 
a lusty wink, she withdrew and shut the door behind her.

I dressed quickly in shorts and a polo shirt, then opened 
up the bench and set up for lunch.  I laid a picnic blanket 
on the floor and spread it out along with some paper 
plates, plastic cups, napkins, and condiments.  When all 
was ready, I threw open the side doors and announced,  
"Café Jimmy is now open, ladies!"  

Joy and Mel came inside and sat cross-legged on the floor.  
I passed out home-made subs -- roast beef for Mel, tuna for 
Joy, Italian cold cut for myself -- then opened a big bag 
of chips and set it down in the middle of the blanket area.  
I then flipped open the cooler and grabbed a perfectly 
chilled bottle of Sam Adams for each of us.


"You look a lot better," Mel said to Joy when the subs had 
been consumed and appreciated.

Joy took a swig of her beer and agreed.  "I'm fine now.  I 
should have known better than to get on that stupid boat 
anyway."  She caught the puzzled expression on my face and 
explained.  "Mel's been taking me to these things for 
years.  I can handle being flipped over, spun around, shot 
out of a cannon, whatever ... but boats are my Achilles 
heel.  Get me on a boat and if the ride isn't smooth as 
glass my insides just turn to clay."

"It's okay," Mel said.  "Everybody's got one thing they 
just can't stand."

"Oh, really?" I said.  "What's yours?"

Mel shot me a warning look.  "Never you mind."  Looking 
just as sternly at Joy, she added, "And don't you even 
think about telling him."

Before long we were finished with lunch and had the 
remnants put away.  We locked up the van and went back into 
the park, this time veering left toward the Hardcore Haven 
section.  Once clear of the entrance we ducked into the 
restrooms and put our purple bracelets back on.  Mel hadn't 
said how much extra they cost, but they were certainly 
worth it for the time we hadn't spent standing in endless 
lines.  So far this had been the most enjoyable theme park 
trip I'd ever taken.  Of course the company had a lot to do 
with that, too.

The first thing that caught our collective eye inside the 
Hardcore Haven area was an attraction called Road Rage.  It 
was obviously a bumper car setup, but once we were inside 
the VIP line area we could see these were not ordinary 
bumper cars.  For one thing, they were a lot faster than 
any bumper cars I remembered seeing -- they fairly zinged 
around a 5-lane looping track at least the size of a 
football field.  The drivers wore helmets and dual shoulder 
straps, and rode one to a car.  As if that weren't enough, 
each car also had a hood-mounted cannon that shot bright 
yellow balls at whatever car or person was in front it.  We 
watched open-mouthed as dogfights broke out between the 
riders, each one trying to maneuver into position behind 
someone else and open fire.  In between rides, a small army 
of attendants gathered up the loose balls and reloaded each 
car through a small hatch in the back.

When our turn came, I jumped into a silver car styled to 
look like a toy version of a Shelby Mustang.  "I know we 
have a history, Eleanor," I said, patting the dashboard, 
"and it hasn't always been good.  But you take care of me, 
and I'll take care of you."

Next to me, Mel broke out into raucous laughter.  "I hope 
for your sake that 'Eleanor' didn't see that movie."  She 
had chosen a dark green car that looked vaguely like a 
Barracuda.  A little further up I saw Joy settle into a 
white VW Bug replica.

As the attendants walked among us, making sure we all had 
our helmets on, I familiarized myself with Eleanor's 
controls.  Other bumper cars I'd been in had only a 
steering wheel and accelerator; these cars, I discovered, 
also had a working brake pedal, side mirrors, and a red 
FIRE button on either side of the steering wheel, easily 
accessible to either thumb.  The helmet had a clear plastic 
face shield, lots of foam padding on the inside, and was 
tethered to the pole that ran up behind me to the 
electrical grid in the ceiling.  The arm straps looped 
around my shoulders and gave me just enough slack that I 
could move freely and lean forward a little bit.

An attendant picked up a microphone and gave us all the 
standard safety lecture.  "For your own safety, please keep 
your helmets on and arms inside the vehicle at all times 
until all cars have come to a complete stop.  Please note 
that the track has an inner and an outer loop; you can 
switch between loops as often as you like, but always keep 
moving in a counterclockwise direction.  Your cannons have 
between 10 and 15 shots in them.  That's all you get -- do 
not try to retrieve balls and reload yourself.  Is everyone 
ready?"  There was a general chorus of agreement.  "Then, 
go!"  

The attendant threw a switch and I heard a deep-throated 
growl coming from a speaker on the dash -- canned engine 
noise.  I floored the gas pedal and was surprised at how 
quickly Eleanor responded.  The steering was very tight, 
which took a little getting used to.  I was cruising along, 
minding my own business, when a yellow ball whizzed by my 
shoulder, missing me by inches.  I turned my head as best I 
could, then remembered the mirror:  just behind me was the 
green Barracuda.  I swerved right as she fired again and 
missed.  The chase was on.

I cut in quickly to the left, putting a car between me and 
Mel.  The driver, a teenage guy, flipped me the bird and 
took a shot, which hit me squarely on the right shoulder.  
It stung enough to get my attention and made me want to get 
him back.  I swerved left just a little, then slammed on 
the brakes and veered right.  The kid, in a black toy 
Porsche, caromed off my right side and spun just a little 
bit.  I hit my Fire button and took great pleasure in 
seeing my ball bounce off his side.  Seeing him wince, I 
stomped on the gas and fired again, this time hitting him 
on the arm.  He saw me coming at him and started to move, 
but he was too late -- I rammed him at full throttle and 
sent him spinning to the outside of the track area.  By the 
time he regained control I was long gone.

The cat and mouse with Mel continued for another lap or 
two.  She did her best to get behind me, I did my best to 
keep the angle bad or to get someone else in between us.  
Then I thought of a plan.  The course consisted of an outer 
main loop and a smaller inside loop; from the air it might 
look a little like a drawing of an eye.  There were two 
places where the inside loop touched the outer, allowing 
cars to change loops.  I moved to left center lane, 
expecting Mel to follow and she did.  When we came up to 
the merge point I waited until the last possible second, 
then cut sharply across two lanes and into the inner loop.  
Mel tried to follow, but another car got in the way and she 
had to stay on the outer loop.  I watched her, gauging our 
relative speed.  If I could time it just right ...

I did.  As Mel approached the interchange area on the other 
side, I was just coming around the inner turn.  She saw me 
and realized I had her beat.  She moved as if to join the 
inner loop, but at the last second veered back onto the 
outer loop.  It didn't matter -- I pulled into the outer 
loop easily and gunned it.  Now I was the one doing the 
hunting.  My first shot grazed Mel's left arm.  I was 
lining up for another when I saw her point to the far side 
of the track.

Joy was over there.  Her white Bug had turned sideways, and 
there was another car pushing her with its nose against the 
side, firing its cannon and hitting Joy at point-blank 
range:  a black Porsche.

I gave Mel the thumbs-up sign and broke off pursuit.  
Instead, I hit the inner loop for a half-lap and came out 
on the other side just a shade behind the Porsche.  Joy was 
trying to get clear but having trouble doing it with yellow 
balls smacking into her every few seconds.  I aimed Eleanor 
at the asshole's left front corner and floored the pedal.  
The thud as I rammed him was pretty satisfying in and of 
itself, but even more so was the second thump as I drove 
the Porsche into the short wall marking the bounds of the 
track.  The kid (it was the same kid) took a shot, which 
was stupid because he wasn't in anything close to a good 
position; his shot just sailed over Eleanor's hood and hit 
the netting at the edge of the pavilion, which was probably 
put there for just that reason.   He jumped up in his seat 
and yelled, "Asshole!" at me, then yelped as a yellow ball 
struck him in the side.  

"Thanks!" Joy called, then she turned herself around and 
sped away.

I kept the asshole jammed against the side for another 
second or so, then turned the wheel and took off.  As I 
expected, he followed me.  I played him, letting him get a 
half-decent shooting angle and then veering away.  He 
wasted two more shots without even getting close, then 
stopped shooting.  I figured he might be out and was 
looking for a chance to ram me.  What he didn't realize was 
that while he was stalking me, Mel and Joy were both 
stalking him.  When I saw them on his flanks, I thought of 
a great way to finish him off.  I sped up, giving Eleanor 
everything she had, until we were on the straightaway, then 
slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel as hard as I 
could.  Eleanor spun 180 degrees.  I took my foot off the 
brake and let the Porsche bump me, then fired at him.  The 
ball hit him right on the collarbone.  I hit the brakes and 
fired again for another direct hit.  Then Porsche boy 
squirmed and shrieked as he was hit from behind by two more 
balls from Joy and Mel.  I would have been content to keep 
that up for a while, but after another volley Mel pulled 
out and drove off, waving for me and Joy to follow.   At 
the first opening in traffic I steered hard right and 
floored it, pushing the Porsche back a little and getting 
myself turned in the right direction again.  The kid didn't 
follow us this time.

When the ride ended shortly after, and our cars slowed to a 
halt within a few feet of each other, we jumped out and 
shared a triumphant 3-way hug.  "We rock!" Mel exclaimed.  
"We completely, totally rock!"  We walked out the exit arm 
in arm while Porsche boy shuffled out alone, mumbling to 
himself.

I think we were all on an adrenaline high because we went 
right into the next ride, called Dark Territory, without 
even looking to see what it was first.  A little voice in 
the back of my head tried to worry a bit when the 
attendants asked if any of us were epileptic, but it was 
drowned out by lingering bravado from the Road Rage ride.  
Soon we were settled into an open 4-seat carriage with the 
usual safety bars, ready to go.

The carriage pulled away from the platform and into a dark 
tunnel.  Mel's hand found mine and clutched it tightly.  
"You okay?" I asked her, surprised.

"I don't know yet," she said, "but I've got a bad feeling 
about this one."

A series of blue-white lights winked on, surrounding us as 
we traveled deeper into the tunnel.  They seemed to be 
moving in slow circles, creating the impression of a long, 
slow spiral encircling the moving carriage.  They made 
sensing direction nearly impossible.  "This isn't so bad," 
I said encouragingly to Mel.

As if I'd spoken a cue, at that moment three things 
happened:  the lights went out, leaving us in total 
darkness; a blood-curdling scream filled the passage, 
seeming to come from all directions at once; and the 
carriage suddenly plunged downward, accelerating quickly to 
breakneck speed.  I heard Mel say, "Oh, shit!" and felt her 
hand clamp down on mine.

We kept dropping and picking up speed for what felt like an 
eternity, then suddenly -- every movement is sudden when 
you can't see it coming -- the carriage turned sharply and 
seemed to level out.   A huge pair of gleaming yellow eyes 
appeared ahead of us, approaching swiftly.  Just as we 
reached the eyes, they winked out and a fierce roar split 
the air around us.  Only the metal safety bar prevented Mel 
from jumping into my lap.

The ride continued this way, alternately teasing us with 
ominous visuals and startling us with chilling sound 
effects.  Mel held onto me like a lamprey, keeping very 
still and not letting up on her grip for a second.  The 
temperature got suddenly warm as the carriage took one 
final dive, then a huge red fireball seemed to burst in the 
air ahead of us and stay there.  The carriage ducked below 
the fireball and then, to our collective horror, looped up 
and over it.  The ride slowed during the loop, leaving us 
with a split second sensation of hovering over the top of 
the flame, before straightening out and taking us back into 
daylight, where the end platform awaited us.

Mel put on a good show for the attendants, smiling and 
laughing as we strolled away, but I could tell she was 
shaken.  "Jesus Christ, Mel," Joy said, seeing the red 
marks on my arm.  Then, to me, she added, "I hope you don't 
bruise easily. "

"Shut up, Joy."  Mel's voice was tense and ragged.  

This wasn't good.  I spotted a concession stand with picnic 
tables nearby, and without another word I steered us in 
that direction.  I sat the girls down, paid way too much 
for three plastic cups of generic mass-produced beer, and 
brought them back to the table.  "Doctor Jimmy says drink 
these now."

We sat and drank, and in a few minutes Mel seemed a little 
more at ease.  "Do you want to tell me what that was 
about?" I asked her.

She took another long pull form her cup before answering.  
"Not really," she answered, "but since I've scarred you for 
life I suppose I owe it to you."  There was the faintest 
hint of her old, playful smile behind the words; that was 
encouraging.

I checked out my forearm:  the red marks were already 
fading.  "Not for life," I said, "just for the next few 
minutes.  I can butt out if you want me to."

That got me a real smile.  "You've earned it anyway," she 
told me.  "Remember how Joy was saying earlier that she 
can't take rough boat rides?  Well, I have a problem with 
things jumping out at me in the dark.  I can handle just 
about anything if I can see it coming, but the nasty 
surprises in that last ride really put me off."

"I'm sorry," I said because it felt right.

"Don't be.  None of us looked ahead to see what Dark 
Territory was.  Besides, you were right there for me and 
let me cling to you like grim death.  Thank you for that."

"So now what do we do?"

Mel looked at our empty cups.  "One more round, I think," 
she said.  "My treat.  Then, on to the next ride."

By the time we finished our second round, we were feeling 
pretty mellow again and all was forgiven.  We strolled up 
the path and into the purple VIP entrance of an attraction 
called The Turbine, a gleaming silver saucer that rose up 
and down between two pillars.  

We were able to get on immediately.  An attendant ushered 
us in through a big aircraft-style door and into a huge 
circular chamber maybe 25 feet across with no ceiling.  We 
each looped our arms through simple safety straps and stood 
with our backs against the wall of the chamber.  When the 
chamber was full, with people lining the entire 
circumference, the attendant left us and shut the door 
behind her.

A few seconds later, the whole chamber began to move.  
Slowly at first, then pickup up speed, the chamber and 
everyone in it began to revolve around an unseen pivot 
point in the center.  As the speed increased I felt the 
outward force holding me against the wall.  Soon I had the 
uneasy feeling that I couldn't pull myself away from the 
wall if I wanted to.  At that point a voice announced, 
"Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for liftoff."  

I wasn't sure what preparing for liftoff was supposed to 
entail -- I couldn't move a muscle anyway, thanks to the 
unseen forces holding me against the wall -- but I don't 
think anything could have prepared me for what happened 
next:  the floor detached from the chamber and seemed to 
sink away.  It took me a moment before I realized that the 
floor wasn't sinking, the rest of the chamber was rising.  
I stood there, pinned to the wall, while the chamber 
ascended to the top of the pillars.  The sight of the 
ground below spinning wildly was dizzying.  

As if being spun in a circle a hundred feet in the air 
weren't disorienting enough, a hydraulic hum heralded yet 
another change, and within a few seconds the view under my 
feet was that of white clouds circling in the sky.  The 
chamber remained upside down for a short time, then began 
to tilt again.  It flipped a slow 180 degrees, bringing us 
right-side up again, but didn't stop; instead if continued 
to revolve slowly, spinning us now in two directions like a 
giant centrifuge on a spit.  A weird sort of euphoria came 
over me as I gave up trying to figure out which end was up.

I came back to my senses when the rolling motion stopped 
and the chamber began to sink slowly to the ground.  Soon 
there was a floor touching my feet again, and the invisible 
force holding me to the wall softened.  The ride came to a 
very gradual stop, but even still it was several seconds 
before I trusted my legs enough to let go of the safety 
straps.  
 
The three of us walked away from the Turbine arm in arm, 
feeling ten feet tall and an inch wide.  I figured at any 
moment I'd be getting another look at those beers we drank 
before the ride, but the only one of us that really looked 
pallid was Joy.  Mel's entire face and neck were flushed, 
and her hand gripped mine firmly.  "Next?" Mel said, 
grinning at both of us.

Joy pointed to one of the many wooden benches Xtreme World 
had been kind enough to place near the exit to the Turbine.  
"The only thing I'm riding for at least the next few 
minutes is that," she declared.  "Unless, of course, one of 
you wants to be wearing my lunch."

Mel laughed.  "Okay, you win.  Pit stop time."  She veered 
off toward a nearby restroom structure, tugging me along 
behind her.  Joy let go and plopped down on a bench.

I hoofed it to keep up with Mel lest she separate my 
shoulder by accident.  "You planning on taking me into the 
bathroom with you?" I asked.  "Someone might object."

"We're not going to the bathroom."  Instead, she led me 
past the women's entrance and around to the back of the 
stone structure.  She pressed her body against mine, 
wrapping her arms around me, and our mouths met in a hot, 
hungry kiss.  Her lips melted into mine and parted, 
allowing our tongues to explore each other freely.  I felt 
my dick stiffening rapidly in my shorts, seeking the warm 
spot I knew was only a few layers of cloth away where Mel's 
groin pressed against mine.  Her hands caressed my back and 
mine followed suit, feeling their way across her beautiful, 
smooth back through the cotton T-shirt.   There was a quick 
tug, and then Mel's hands had slipped under my shirt, 
lifting it, snaking underneath, making my skin tingle and 
my knees go weak.  

I slid down to a sitting position with my back against the 
stone wall.  Mel stayed with me, keeping our mouths locked 
together, straddling me as I sat.  I pulled the T-shirt 
loose from her waistband and slipped my hands inside it.  
Her skin was smooth and soft and warm, just as I'd imagined 
it must be.  My fingers brushed the clasp of her bra.  Mel 
nodded, so I fumbled for a few seconds until it came free 
and then slid my hands around to the front to cup her 
breasts.  The nipples were firm and hard and standing tall.  
I rolled them between my fingers for a second and thrilled 
to hear the hitch in her breath as she let out a short 
moan.  Mel shifted back a little bit, opened my zipper, and 
reached a hand inside my shorts.  Her fingers traced the 
outline of my bulging package and squeezed in just the 
right spot.  

"Mmmmmmm," Mel moaned.  "This is going to feel so good 
inside me."  My groan of agreement turned to dismay when 
Mel stood up.  "Not here," she said.  "I don't want to have 
to rush."  

"You're right," I grudgingly agreed, standing up.  "I can 
wait a little longer."

Mel grinned at me with that devilish light in her eyes.  
Slowly, deliberately, she reached into her sleeves and 
pulled out the straps of her bra, slipping them over her 
hands.  Then she reached in under the front of her shirt 
and pulled the bra out.  Carefully and neatly, she folded 
the cups together and tucked the straps inside.  "Hold on 
to this for me, will you?" she asked.

"Sure," I replied, puzzled.

Still grinning, she grabbed the front of my shorts and 
pulled them forward, taking the elastic band of my briefs 
with them.  With her other hand she stuffed the folded bra 
into the front of my briefs, folding the soft satin cups 
around my still-hard shaft.  She kissed me once again while 
her hand rubbed me up and down through the satin for a few 
seconds.  "I will be back to collect it," she promised.

Joy had fully recovered when we came out from behind the 
restroom building.  Her eyes moved quickly from our faces 
to Mel's bosom to my crotch.  "Lose something, Mel?"

"I don't think so," Mel replied nonchalantly.  "Why?"

Joy looked my way again, and I felt myself reddening.  "No 
reason," she said, with the slightest hint of a wink to me.  
"Shall we move on?"

So we moved on to our first actual roller coaster of the 
day, a fiendish device called The Twister.  It was an 
inverse coaster; the carriages hung suspended below the 
track, like a ski lift.  Mel, Joy and I were seated in a 
carrier that seemed little more than a fiberglass porch 
swing with a safety bar, our legs hanging freely.  I 
noticed the attendant checking out our footwear as he 
secured the safety bar.  A large sign on the platform 
explained why:  "Shoes must be securely fastened.  Flip-
flops, sandals, and similar footwear should be removed and 
left with the attendants."

The ride was a wild one.  It started with a long, slow 
climb that gave us plenty of time to study the upcoming 
turns and twists in the track, imagining what our little 
carriage would do as the momentum carried us around it.  
Then it started with what felt like an 80-foot drop almost 
straight down.  We saw the river from the speed boat ride 
in front of us and the overhead rail pointing straight at 
it.  I braced myself for a wet impact and was almost 
disappointed when at the last second our carrier swooped up 
and to the left.  From there we went through a hair-raising 
series of loops and turns.  True to its name, the ride 
flipped us over several times, and at one point had us in a 
long barrel roll.  Finally it whipped us around in one more 
loop and came to a stop back at the platform.

I got a good look at Mel before the attendant released our 
safety bar, and it was an eyeful.  Her skin was flushed and 
hot-looking.  Her nostrils seemed to flare slightly, and I 
could swear her nipples were poking out against the cotton 
T-shirt she wore.  Her hand was resting on my bare thigh, 
the fingers toying with the short hairs they found.  I 
could relate -- between the rides, the make-out session 
behind the bathrooms, and the promise of more to come, my 
adrenals were getting the mother of all workouts.  

Next came the SideWinder, a slightly more conventional 
coaster in that the cars rode above the track, but with the 
an added twist:  the cars were wedge-shaped and designed to 
pivot on the front point, swinging wildly from side to side 
as the track went through its turns.  There were no loops 
on the SideWinder, but plenty of vicious sharp turns to 
keep us sloshing around in our carrier.  As with the 
Twister, I sat between the two girls with one arm around 
each; when the ride was over, they were both slow to break 
contact.

The Hammerhead ride was short, but memorable.  We were 
seated in a column -- me in back, Mel in the middle, Joy in 
front -- in a cigar-shaped carrier on a normal-seeming 
track.  Instead of the usual gradual start, though, the 
Hammerhead took the opposite tack:  a sudden jolt thrust us 
forward instantly at full speed.  We went almost 
immediately into a near vertical climb.  I could feel the 
car slowing, losing momentum, still pointed straight up in 
the air.  It slowed and slowed, and for a gut-churning 
moment it stalled.  Joy screamed and grabbed my legs as the 
car began to fall backward.  Oh, shit, something's gone 
wrong, I thought.  Then the car pivoted on an unseen catch, 
pointing itself toward the ground, and went into a dive.  I 
could see we were still on the track, and in that instant I 
understood where the ride had gotten its name.  I relaxed 
into the adrenaline buzz, letting my muscles ease off a 
bit.  The car finished its dive, transitioned into an 
overhead loop, then leveled off and came to a halt at the 
platform.

Mel and Joy both looked at me with something like 
admiration when we left the Hammerhead.  "You must have 
balls of iron," Joy told me.  "I almost wet myself up 
there, and all of a sudden you just relaxed as though you 
were at home in your easy chair."

"I was scared, too," I explained.  "Then, in a flash, I 
realized what they were doing -- they were simulating a 
hammerhead stall."  Both girls gave me blank looks, so I 
elaborated.  "It's a well-known maneuver to stunt flyers.  
You put the plane into a near vertical climb and hold it 
there until it stalls; then you let it roll to one side 
until it's pointing straight down and, once you've got up 
enough speed, gradually level it off.  The loop at the end 
was extra, probably to help bleed off excess momentum."

"So you've done that before?"

I shrugged.  "Only if Flight Simulator on my PC counts.  
But once I understood what was happening, I figured why not 
relax and go with it?"

Joy shook her head slowly.  "Balls of iron," she repeated.

Mel sidled up beside me.  "I'll have to examine them 
myself," she whispered hotly into my ear.  "See if she's 
right."

We walked around the park for another half hour, checking 
out the remaining rides.  I think we were all a bit 
distracted, though.  Mel walked closely by my side, holding 
hands and making frequent side contact.  Joy stayed close, 
pretending not to notice the growing sexual electricity 
between me and Mel, but I caught her in a few furtive 
glances.  

Finally, Mel made the motion we were all waiting for.  
"We've done all the good rides," she said.  "Anything else 
would just be a letdown.  How about we call it a day?"

I was fine with that.  Walking around for half the 
afternoon with Mel's bra stuffed down my shorts had been a 
strange sort of torture.  With every step the cloth moved a 
little around my package; it was like getting a long, slow 
hand job from someone wearing a satin glove.  Between that 
and the endorphins running through my system from the 
rides, I'd spent the afternoon in a constant state of semi-
erection -- all I could think about was how much I wanted 
to finish what Mel and I had started behind the bathrooms.  
The sooner we got home, I figured, the sooner that would 
happen.

By the time we reached the van, I had it all mapped out.  
It was just a hair before four o'clock; if we grabbed 
dinner at a drive-thru we could drop Joy off at home around 
7:00, get to my place at 7:30, and be in ecstasy by 7:45.  
But Mel had plans of her own.

"Hey, Joy," she said.  "Feel like driving for a while?"

Joy shrugged.  "Sure, if Jim's okay with it."

I was dubious, and not just because it threatened my little 
timetable.  "Have you ever driven a big van before?"

"Oh, yeah," she assured me.  "I used to drive for a shuttle 
service; I spent 40 hours a week driving a van like this 
one."

Mel sensed my hesitation and moved in close.  "She won't 
hurt the van," she told me in a sultry voice.  "And it will 
give us a chance to sit in the back and neck."

All my reluctance vanished.  I tossed the keys to Joy.  
"Here you go." 

Joy got herself settled into the driver's seat.  I helped 
adjust the right side mirror, then climbed into the seat 
behind her, next to Mel.  I watched pretty closely in the 
beginning, but by the time we were out of the parking lot 
it was obvious that Joy was an expert at maneuvering the 
beast.  

Mel wasted no time.  Once we were on the highway, she 
snuggled up right against me and pulled me in for a deep, 
erotic kiss.  Lips and tongues played together, and soon 
our hands were busy exploring each other's curves and 
textures.  

God, that girl can kiss!  A few seconds of mouth-to-mouth 
put my little soldier on full alert; a few more had me 
suddenly worried about him firing before the target was in 
range.  Then I felt Mel's fingers working their way into my 
shorts, and I tried to pull away.

"What's the matter?"

"Timing," I said.  "If your hand goes in there, I might 
last 10 seconds before creaming in my pants like a horny 
teen.  I don't want to blow this."

"Trust me," she breathed.  "I know exactly what I'm doing."  

So I let her continue.  She planted another long, languid 
kiss on me while her hand finished opening up my shorts and 
snaked through the front slot in my briefs.  Her fingers 
closed around my extended shaft, which was still wrapped up 
in the cups of her bra.  "Feels like iron to me," she said.

Joy must have heard some of what was going on.  She tried 
her best to look back at us without losing sight of the 
road.  "Melanie Eileen Loughlin, what the hell are you 
doing?"

Mel ignored her and kept whispering hotly into my ear.  
"Ten seconds, eh?  Let's see ..."  She squeezed my 
quivering cock and started pumping it. "One," she counted, 
and melted me with another hot kiss.  "Two."  Another pump 
and another smoldering kiss.  "Three ..."

I made it as far as eight.  My system exploded under the 
relentless stimulation; all I could do was groan in 
exquisite agony while Mel pumped me dry.  When my spasms 
ended she withdrew the soaked, sticky satin and set it 
aside.  "There," she said, a satisfied smile on he face.  
"That should take the edge off.  Now we can take our time 
and really savor each other."

Now it was my turn to grin.  "I know what I want to savor 
first."  I grabbed her T-shirt with both hands and lifted 
it straight up and off.  Mel's breasts, in full view for 
the first time, were just perfect.  Each was a generous 
handful, the soft flesh covered in that extra-pale, 
freckle-dotted skin so common in natural redheads, with a 
pronounced (and at the moment, very erect) nipple like the 
cherry on a sundae, begging to be eaten first.

Mel reclined on the seat, resting her head on the arm.  I 
lay down on top of her, shifting down a little so my mouth 
could easily reach the objects of my desire.  I divided my 
attentions equally between them, kissing and licking and 
nibbling, caressing with my hands and my tongue and my 
lips.  I could see Mel trying to suppress moans, and out of 
perversity I concentrated my efforts until she gave up and 
started moaning out loud.

I'd just about forgotten Joy, but she was apparently very 
aware of us.   "C'mon you guys," she protested, "I'm trying 
to drive here.  If you can't keep your clothes on until we 
get home, you could at least get out of sight and be quiet 
about it."

"I'm trying ... ooooohhhh ... to be quiet," Mel responded -
- or tried to, while I kept doing everything I could think 
of to break her train of thought.  "It's just ... mmmmm ... 
I mean ... aaaahhhh ... oh, never mind."  I started moving 
south slowly, kissing her ribs, under her breasts, her 
navel.  She grabbed at me and tried to pull me back up, but 
all she ended up doing was pulling up on my shirt.  I let 
her take it.  There wasn't enough room in the seat for me 
to go where I really wanted to without having my butt 
pressed up against the side window, so I lifted her leg up 
over my shoulder and started kissing and caressing her 
thigh, letting my fingers wander up and down, inside the 
leg of her shorts and back out.  Mel was loving it; her 
breath came in gasps, her back arching with each one, her 
head lolling backward.  

Joy seemed pretty distracted, too.  The rear view mirror 
kept drawing her eyes for longer and longer at a time.  
Once or twice I felt a sharp jerk as she made a too-hasty 
course correction.  "We're distracting the driver," I told 
Mel between kisses, "and I need more room to move around.  
Let's go to the back."

Mel nodded enthusiastically and started to scoot off the 
seat.  I took advantage of the movement to strip off her 
shorts and panties in the process.  She scampered around 
the seat quickly and dropped to the floor in the back.  
Before following suit, I winked at Joy through the rear 
view mirror.  "Show us the monuments," I quipped, then 
laughed when she rolled her eyes and groaned.

In the back area, Mel was hurriedly unfolding the picnic 
blanket we'd used as a tablecloth earlier in the day.  We 
laid it down in the open area and met in the middle, 
kneeling and embracing and indulging in more of those long, 
open-mouthed kisses.  Our hands roamed freely over each 
other from top to bottom.  Mel's came upon my shorts, open 
and unzipped but still hanging on, and quickly had them and 
my briefs down at my knees.  Big Jim was happy for the 
breathing room, as he was beginning to stand out again.

After one more glance at the rear view mirror -- I caught 
Joy peeking at us again, and this time she actually blushed 
and looked away -- I gently pushed Mel down onto the floor.  
Using kisses and caresses, I worked my way slowly from her 
mouth downward, paying loving attention to every curve and 
crevice until I reached the fiery red racing stripe on her 
mound.  There was plenty to taste already; her thighs were 
slick and shiny on the insides, and the scent of her 
arousal released the animal in me.  My world narrowed to 
the immediate area of her sex, and I left no nook or cranny 
unexplored.   Her hips rose up to meet me, gyrating wildly 
at times, and her legs locked around me tightly enough that 
for a while I could barely hear the moans coming out of 
Mel's mouth.  Then I heard her squeal.  Her body shook 
uncontrollably.  Her fingers locked around my head, 
grabbing fistfuls of hair and pulling me in tighter as she 
shrieked repeatedly.  

Finally her fingers let go and her body seemed to loosen up 
again.  She was still panting and still shaking just a 
little bit.  I lifted her legs up and spread them open a 
little more.  "Ready for the next ride?" I asked.  

Mel nodded breathlessly.  I rose up and knee-walked up to 
her, giving Big Jim a glimpse of heaven.  He took his cue 
and plunged directly into the tunnel of bliss.  Grabbing 
Mel's hips, I lifted her up to improve the angle and 
managed to bottom out inside her.  Mel wrapped her legs 
around my torso and used them for leverage, working me in 
and out slowly and easily.  I freed up one hand and felt 
around for her magic button until I found it.  I gave that 
a nice, gentle tweak and Mel really came to life.  Her legs 
and hips started working me like a piston, in and out, in 
that primal rhythm that takes over when a woman is about to 
come hard.  My knees and hamstrings protested, but I stayed 
in the saddle until Mel came again.  This time I got to 
watch her as she came, and it was a sight to do any man 
proud.  Her chest heaved up and down, her back arching and 
releasing with each thrust.  The skin of her chest, belly, 
and up her neck glowed bright pink.  Her face had that 
loose, slack-jawed look of total abandon -- only her lips 
moved as she panted and moaned with the rhythm of her hips 
and back.  

After a very long time, Mel's breathing and movements 
slowed.  Her eyes opened and fixed on my face.  I slipped 
out of her, still hard as a railroad spike, and joined her 
in a happy sigh.  She held her arms out to me and I eased 
down on top of her, indulging in another of those 
incredible kisses.  She reached between us and checked out 
Big Jim, who was still swollen with pride at his 
performance.  "Roll over," she said, giving me a gentle 
push.  

I complied, and Mel rolled with me.  She sat up straight, 
gave my eager member a nice stroke or two, and then buried 
it inside her again.  I felt her pelvic muscles grip me 
firmly and I groaned a little in response.  She grinned and 
did it again, watching me melt as my brain transferred 
control to the battle bridge.  Mel's eyes locked onto mine 
and she looked right into me, holding me in her gaze while 
she rocked up and down on my saddle horn.  I felt a 
tickling sensation and realized she had her fingertips on 
my balls, tracing the line down the middle.  She traced 
back, using the excess fluid for lubrication, and found 
that really sensitive spot all the way at the back.  Big 
Jim went nuts; I felt every muscle in my body go into spasm 
mode, clenching and releasing with the force of my orgasm.  
I heard someone groaning in sweet agony and realized it was 
me.  And all the while Mel watched me as I had watched her, 
fully enjoying the results of her expert ministrations.

Soon it was over.  My breathing returned to something 
approaching normal, and Mel was relaxed on top of me, 
tracing little circles on my chest with her fingertip.  My 
hands moved idly up and down her back, not trying to arouse 
anymore, just enjoying the feel of her skin.  

A sharp moan cut through the afterglow, followed by 
another.  The voice was soft, feminine, but it wasn't Mel.  
We looked at each other, and realized together that the van 
was no longer moving.  As one, we knelt up and looked over 
the seat.  Joy had pulled over into a rest area, one of 
those places where you can park and look at the mountains 
on the side of the highway.  Joy's face, reflected in the 
rear view mirror, was taut; her eyes were closed and her 
jaw clenched.

"Should I?" I whispered.

"Do it," Mel answered.

I kissed her one more time, then quietly slipped around her 
and crept up behind the driver's seat.  Using the side view 
mirror, I could see Joy better.  She had her shorts undone 
and one hand working feverishly inside them; the other had 
lifted up her shirt and bra and was aimlessly wandering 
across her chest.  Centering myself behind the seat back, I 
reached around with both hands and put them flat on Joy's 
stomach.  She jumped as if hit with an electric shock, her 
head looking wildly back and forth.  I didn't give her time 
to react:  my hands moved immediately upward and cupped her 
breasts.  At the first gentle squeeze she moaned deeply and 
relaxed again into the seat.  I caressed and stroked her 
breasts while she continued to finger herself below, and in 
a very short time Joy was gasping and panting and coming 
like a freight train.

By the time Joy opened her eyes, I was back behind the rear 
seat with Mel.  Joy turned and saw us there, watching her.  
"What are you two looking at?" she said irritably.  "You 
started it."

All three of us laughed ourselves silly.




"To road trips," Mel proposed, raising her iced tea glass 
in the air.  We clinked glasses and drank.

"To my brother Frank," I offered, initiating another round 
of clinks.

"And his van," Joy added to round things out.

We were sitting in a corner booth at a steak house, having 
decided that we could spare the time for a good, solid 
dinner.  The meal, and the activities preceding it, had us 
feeling nice and mellow.

"What I want to know," Joy said, "is which one of you that 
was behind my seat."

Mel and I exchanged a conspiratorial look, grinned 
together, and said nothing.  

"Look," Joy continued.  "It doesn't really matter.  I mean, 
between the rush from the rides and the show you two put on 
right behind me, I was too far gone to care at the time."

"And now?" Mel prompted.

"Now that my head's on straight again, I'm curious."

Mel and I shared another silent, secretive smile.

"Then again, maybe I don't want to know."

The waitress brought us our check.  We left a hefty tip and 
piled into the van for the rest of the trip home.

"I'll drive from here," I volunteered.  "I think I can keep 
my libido under control until we get home."

"But what if I can't?" Mel asked teasingly.

"You'll think of something, I'm sure."  With another chorus 
of hearty laughs, we took our seats.  I readjusted 
everything for me and took us back onto the highway. 

All the way home, I kept a close eye on the rear view 
mirror.




-wg
5/14/01