Chapter 7
"Are you sure?" was all that Robert asked when Charley told him she planned to leave him. His plane for San Francisco left at ten o'clock; the flight to Los Angeles departed from the next gate, thirty minutes later.
"I have to go. Who am I?" Charley answered, tears blurring her vision while she watched Robert change her ticket from one California city to another. He put green money on the plastic counter to pay for the difference in fares. Charley sobbed privately.
No one passing the beautiful woman in the Nassau terminal would have been able to sense her feelings. She waited for Robert, knowing that they would fly together, in less than ten minutes, to Miami. Her good-bye had a built-in fail-safe. They would part ways and lives only after leaving their tropical paradise, their vacationland, in the same small, outdated, underpowered craft that had deposited them there two weeks earlier. Charley held her tears, disguised the pain and terror that taking a separate plane in Miami made her feel. Part of her never wanted to bid 'aloha' to Robert Towers.
In the tiny, pre-fabricated, hastily-built bar, Charley drank straight vodka as if it was water. Robert never argued with her fresh order. He bent towards her only when she tilted precariously on her stool. Charley, in spite of her intoxication, still appeared beautiful, polished, elegant and rich. Her dark hair was slightly rumpled, but it looked as if THAT was the way it was styled. No one but Robert realized the tortures that haunted her lovely soul.
Once guided onto the tiny airplane, so old that jets were a madman's dream, Charley began to suck up liquor as fast as Robert ordered the miniature bottles, always asking for double or triple rounds when he put American bills in the young stewardess's palm. If he had been alone, the blonde girl, barely old enough to serve liquor in the States, probably would have left Robert her name and address. She was pretty in the way a cheerleader, or college football queen was pretty. Wholesome and robust, pink cheeks and even teeth, thick hair that was very blonde and very long, sweeping into soft waves low on her back.
"Is there anything else, Sir?" the cute stewardess asked only a few minutes before the "Seatbelt" sign flashed on. She smiled coyly when Robert handed her several bills to pay for the liquor Charley was drinking. He had already arranged for three miniature souvenir bottles the young innocent promised to deliver the instant the plane touched ground in Florida.
"Don't lose the name and phone number he folded inside your outrageous tip, darling," Charley mumbled, her speech thick from alcohol. Her poise and beauty were not affected by her intoxication. She appeared as controlled and rational as every other passenger on the small plane.
"I beg your pardon, Madame," the blonde, pretty, innocent girl said. Her All-American cheeks were colored with a rising blush. Charley smiled, partly in amusement, mostly because she remembered being as innocent and curious and eager as the young woman who was unable to treat Robert like any other traveler. Charley finished her last drink and hoped the pretty, fresh, clean girl lost the paper Robert had folded inside a twenty dollar bill.
"Be quiet, Charley," Robert ordered quietly. He was not threatening her. He knew that power was no longer his. All he wanted was to depart as civilized adults, without permitting the willful beauty to ruin his chances with new, fresh talent. She had been as silly and naive as the blonde stewardess before Robert had forced her to grow up.
"Are we there? Am I home yet?" Charley asked, her head spinning crazily from the liquor. Robert tucked the extra bottles into her leather purse, a gift from him when they wandered through the native marketplace of Nassau.
"Home? Where the hell IS home, Charley?" Robert asked, his handsome face, his hard grey eyes pinning her down, demanding that she give him an answer.
"We are home now." That was all Charley could say.
The lovely blonde girl wished them a pleasant journey. Her exaggerated wink at Robert told both Charley and her teacher that he would soon have a new, nubile, eager pupil. Mr. Towers touched her cheek fleetingly, a soft promise that would turn to iron-willed domination the instant the sweet child came to him for assistance. Charley wanted to scream out a warning, but her rosy lips never opened.
They had almost an hour before Robert's plane rose from the earth, its huge belly trying to defy the laws of gravity and aviation. Miami International was busy, people shuttling from one flight to another, very few staying in the American beach city for more than a few hours. Charley could spot the vacationers to Miami Beach or Fort Lauderdale or Palm Beach easily. They looked too fat, too rich for the money actually in their wallets, and too easily excited by their destination in Florida.
Charley had done very little traveling, but she had spent endless hours waiting for others in airports. The seasoned, experienced traveler from land to land, always was composed, never disturbed by an unanticipated delay in flight time. Those people had style and class, attributes Charley often wished she could call her own.
Without asking, Robert guided them into the dimly-lit cocktail lounge to wait for his plane. He knew Charley was already getting drunk, but he also sensed her fear and despair at leaving his tutelage. If she needed liquor to get her through the desperation, Robert willingly would supply her narcotic.
"I'll miss you, sweet Charley. We have been good to each other. We have shared many good times ... I wish you would change your mind before it's too late," Robert said as they sipped the drinks he had ordered.
"I can't change my mind. When we were someplace else, on the Islands or flying over them, I asked you 'who am IT' Charley answered, her lithe body leaning towards Robert as she spoke.
He saw the ripe richness of her breasts pushing through her white sweater, noticed the hardness of her nipples pressing against the sweater. Her clothes had been Charley's choice, the only time she had ever had complete choice in her garments since she had moved under Robert's wing. The pale, almost white pants she wore were tight, clinging to the curve of her hips and hugging her ass and thighs like a second skin. A small amount of flesh was exposed between the sweater and the pants, skin dark brown and sleek.
Charley set her glass down. There really was nothing to say. Robert knew every reason she was boarding a different plane. He also knew that a large part of Charley regretted the decision. Her dark, intense eyes met his grey eyes over the tiny cocktail table.
"Who am I? Robert, dear, dear Robert, I am your creation. Before you I was my family's creation. Then, my husband's creation. I left them to find me. You just molded me into another person. Charley is still waiting for her chance. Do you understand?" Charley asked softly, her body leaning towards Robert invitingly. She wondered if he understood.
"Go then. Become Charley, if you can find her. If you get lost, call me. If you discover her and want me, call me then, too. Whatever happens, don't let yourself get swallowed by the world out there, Charley. I will help any time, if you call," Robert promised earnestly. For once, Charley believed there were no strings attached.
"Thank you, Robert. Good bye." Charley rose from the tiny table and disappeared into the bathroom where he could not follow.
The flight to Los Angeles was not crowded. Charley sat in the front section of the giant airliner, her first-class ticket buying her privacy. She gulped down the sweet drinks the stewardess kept bringing before she could request another glass. It was lonely and frightening.
"May I join you?" a male voice asked Charley as she sucked her drink up, wishing she had gone with Robert when he boarded in Miami.
"Of course," her voice was seductive and husky with desire, something Robert had taught her, something she might never forget.
"Going home?" the same male voice asked.
"I don't know."
"What?"
"Yes. I am returning to my home. Where are you going?" Charley caught herself before she let this stranger know anything about her personally.
"Business. I live in Miami. My name is Jason."
"Charley. Have a drink with me. Planes are dull," she invited, her voluptuous body moving towards him as he sat next to her and smiled excitedly.
"Do you have plans once you arrive?" Jason asked, his eyes glued to her body, taking in each exposed curve that she had.
"Do you?"
"A hotel room in Beverly Hills."
"Come with me now. I must use the bathroom." Charley rose unsteadily, her hand grabbing Jason to guide him down the aisle with her.
"What about my hotel room?" he questioned, following the dark-haired beauty into the tiny bathroom, watching her lock the door and exhibit the "occupied" sign.
"Fuck me now. Well discuss the hotel later!" Charley commanded, knowing that she could control Jason for as long as she wanted.
"Here???" Jason sounded frightened.
"Yes, dear man. Take off your pants. Get rid of those things so I can see your prick swell hard," Charley ordered him, her voice sweet and quiet, but her urgency and her desire not suppressed. She cowed the handsome man who had spent many hours in flight, but had never run across a woman like Charley.
"What if someone wants to use this . . Jason's voice trailed off. He was unfastening his pants, his eager fingers looking clumsy as he tried to hurry.
"There are other bathrooms, darling. Show me your cock. Pull your pants down," Charley asked. "How far?"
"Show me the prick I saw pressed against your leg when you sat down next to me. Pull them down far enough to let me see your cock, low enough for you to fuck me when I am finished looking at you." Charley was already taking her pants off.
Her hands worked swiftly and deftly. She was naked beneath her sweater. She sank onto the chemical toilet, her ass hanging above the brilliant blue water. She pulled her sweater above her breasts, exposing the swollen, throbbing buds to Jason's hungry eyes. Her nipples were erect and hard. "You are beautiful."
"You are very slow, Jason. If I look so great, why are your pants still covering your cock?" Charley wondered, her wet cunt already spread before his eyes. She wanted him to enter her pussy, wanted to feel the walls of her vagina close around a man's penis.
"Will you come to my hotel?" he asked again, pulling his pants off, showing Charley a red, throbbing dick that pointed towards her hole with desire. She could see that Jason would come quickly. He was very excited.
"If you fuck me. Not yet, darling. Let me start first. Watch me love my own pretty pie." Charley sank back, her body hanging inside the airplane's toilet while her fingers started to play with her clit.
"I'll do that," Jason offered eagerly. "Just watch."
"Let me help, please," Jason begged, already on his knees before her spread vagina, staring at the way her fingers stroked the flaming red clit that protruded from between her legs.
"Touch me with your cock. Rub that big thing against my cunt!" Charley murmured, her voice fuzzy and distant. She forgot where she was or who the cock belonged to. It didn't matter.
"Here??" Jason asked, his hand guiding his hard pole between her open legs. He felt the head of his cock rub across her erect clit. The woman shuddered.
"Yes . . . rub my clit hard. Rub back and forth with your prick! Harder. Rub my pussy harder! More! Harder . . . shove your penis against my cunt! Fuck me now! Fuck me with your tool!" Charley ordered, her body already slipping into the delirium of orgasmic delights as Jason stroked her clit. She grabbed him and pulled herself out of the chemical toilet.
"I'm coming inside. Here I come!!" Jason shouted like a small boy.
His penis barely penetrated her pie before Charley felt the stream of hot fluid empty into her cavern. Her legs were wrapped tightly around Jason's waist. He held her up, letting her grind her flaming clit against his body while the last drops of his essence spurted into her churning cunt. Charley bit his neck, her climax draining everything except frustration and fear and anger from her body.
Jason licked his own come out of her pie. Charley rested her legs on his shoulders while he buried his face inside her furry cave. His tongue lapped every drop of their come off of her body. She twitched when he sucked her clit eagerly. Charley refused to let him make her come again.
When the plane landed in Los Angeles, Charley disembarked alone. Jason followed behind, still not certain why the beautiful woman had refused to join him at his Beverly Hills Hotel room. She had kissed him and smiled sadly. Her eyes thanked Jason for their folly in the locked bathroom. Her voice had told him she had another engagement.
Charley walked into the airport, feeling alone and afraid. She told Jason that she was going home. As she waited for her luggage, Charley knew that she had no home to go to. She was adrift with only herself as pdot of her dizzy, aimless craft.
She could call Paul or Chris or Rudy or Robert. She headed for a phone booth. Then, without breaking stride, she decided to catch a taxi. She had no home. She had no place to go. She was without direction. But, Charley knew that she had to move ahead, wherever that took her. She could not return to any place or person she had known before. That was stagnating and dying.
Leaving Robert had been the first tiny step away from slow, gradual death. She got into the cab and headed for a hotel whose advertisement she had glimpsed inside the airport terminal.