Ivy League Sluts

Chapter 34 Pickup and Delivery

     “El Al Flight 203 arriving at Gate 12,” boomed the PA system in the International Terminal at Boston’s Logan Airport. 

     Good, she’s on time thought Stacy glancing at her watch.  Stacy was seated in the waiting area outside Customs.  A black nylon rolling box was parked at her feet.  As instructed she was reading the prescribed magazine and wearing a sweatshirt announcing she was a member of Boston University’s Lacrosse team.

     An empty airline ticket folder was displayed in a side pocket of her purse.  A black wig under a Red Sox cap covered her blonde hair.  Large wire rimmed glasses with a clear lens covered most of her unmade-up face. Jeans and cross trainers completed her ‘dressed comfortably for a long international flight’ disguise. 

     It was the end of summer and the terminal was busy.  The week before Mike had informed her she would be taking over the monthly task of picking up ten thousand tablets of Ecstasy from an El Al flight attendant and delivering them to a wealthy socialite at her estate north of Boston.  Mike told her to wear a disguise to avoid being identifiable on the airport security cameras.

     “Good, you look like a typical college girl heading to Europe to see great art and get laid by Eurotrash, very understated,” said Portia giving her a final inspection when she was finished dressing.

     “Certainly not my best look,” said Stacy peering into the mirror with a disapproving look on her face.  Meeting Mike’s standards had gotten her used to looking her best all the time.

     “It’s not supposed to be.  I’m not sure I would recognize you,” said Portia who had worked hard to make Stacy unrecognizable.

     “I wouldn’t recognize myself.  You should go to work for the CIA or a Hollywood studio,” said Stacy.

     It was another twenty minutes before the dark haired El Al flight attendant casually took a seat beside Stacy.  She smoothly positioned her rolling box next to Stacy’s.  It was the identical color, make, and model. 

     She’s pretty; no gorgeous thought Stacy noting her identity badge read Esther Wolfenson.  Stacy guessed her age at late twenties to early thirties.  Stacy couldn’t help but admire her beautiful legs exposed by the mid thigh uniform skirt.  But it was the perfectly groomed cold black hair and violet Elizabeth Taylor eyes that struck Stacy as Esther’s best feature. And for someone who’s been flying for eleven hours, she looked remarkably fresh.  Following Mike’s instructions, Stacy waited for Esther to speak.

     “My brother played Lacrosse.  Are you on the team?” asked the flight attendant.

     Stacy turned toward Esther and smiled before she spoke.  “No, I got this for sucking off the coach.”  Stacy had initially objected to repeating the response Mike had given her.

     “Can’t I just say I’m the goalie or a defensemen,” protested Stacy when Mike had told her of the coded verbal exchange.

     “Just say what I tell you,” said Mike showing Stacy the two stacks of one hundred dollar bills he had placed in the luggage.  “Besides, after the first time, you two will recognize each other.  But you can still come up with your own greeting if you like.”

     “Cabreeze’s idea of a bad joke,” said Esther.

     “He has a warped sense of humor,” said Stacy.

     “I’ve only met him once, good looking but then the Italian men usually are.”

     “You’re very beautiful.  I’m wouldn’t be surprised if he hit on you,” said Stacy feeling the slightest bit of jealousy then dismissing the idea.  I could care less if he fucked her Stacy told herself.

     “He did but I told him I was married.  When that didn’t discourage him, I told him I was having my period.  The Italian male is encouraged by their mother, sisters and aunts to think every woman is dying to get into bed with them.  Unfortunately most of us are.”

     “How long have you been married?”

     “I was married for two years but it didn’t work out.  I’ve been divorced three.”

     “You’re still wearing a wedding ring,” said Stacy.

     “It discourages men from asking me to have a drink with them when we arrive, at least most of them,” said Esther.

     “I suppose that can be a problem in your profession,” said Stacy surprised that Esther had not already left.  She wasn’t sure small talk was supposed to be part of a drug deal.

     “Yes, unfortunately, it also discourages women, even pretty ones I find interesting,” said Esther placing her hand on Stacy’s for just a brief second then removing it.  The meaning of that small gesture to Stacy was unmistakable.

     “And you find that a problem?”

     “Yes, at times, you are very attractive.  Are you in a relationship?”

     “An open one, her name is Portia.  We’re college roommates”

     “Mike said you were a student,” said Esther.

     “Yes, I’m studying international law.”

     “That could be useful.  Have a drink with me later?  Bring your roommate if you like. Am I being too direct?  Everyone says Israeli women are much too forward.”

     “How do I know Mike Cabreeze didn’t put you up to this,” asked Stacy?

     “You don’t.  But I think you are a risk taker.  I’m at the Airport Hilton.  Ah, there’s my shuttle,” said Esther getting up to leave while deftly grabbing the handle of Stacy’s luggage box leaving the one she brought.

***

    

     “She hit on me,” said Stacy climbing into the van Portia had borrowed from Monk.  Stacy’s BMW was parked nearby.  They were in the airport’s parking garage.

     “She’s a lesbian,” asked Portia as the two kissed?

     “Yes, I suppose unless this is Mike Cabreeze’s idea of a joke,” said Stacy climbing into the back of the van and starting to undress.

     “Why would he do that?”

     “I don’t know.  It just strikes me as something he might do.  On the other hand I had the impression she was sincere.”

     “What was she like,” asked Portia?

     “Very attractive, good figure, early thirties, hypnotic dark eyes, exotic looking,” said Stacy.

     “You should do her,” said Portia.

     “I told her you and I were in an open relationship.  She asked me to bring you along.  Can you get this for me?” asked Stacy referring to the zipper of the short skirt she had slipped on.  Getting dressed in the cramped space was proving difficult.

     “What makes you think she’s for real?” asked Portia zipping the skirt

     “Seemed kind of lonely and sad.  I’ve read being a flight attendant is a solitary job.  She’s divorced,” said Stacy slipping on a matching top.

     “How did you leave it with her?”

     “Maybe call her later, meet for a drink.  If I do, you’re coming along,” said Stacy.

     “Jewish girls love oral sex and they’re good at it.”

     “Where did you acquire that factoid,” asked Stacy buttoning her silk blouse.

     “Sarah Schlinder was acknowledged to give the best head in my high school by both sexes.  She combined world-class stamina, a long muscular tongue, strong flexible lips, breath control, and years of experience with an innate desire to orally administer to all her classmates.  She held the record for sucking off the twelve member boy’s varsity basketball team.”

     “You kept records?”

     “Of course, twenty six minutes and ten seconds,” said Portia.

     “That a little over two minutes per cock.”

     “My personal best was forty seven minutes.  Shineeka Tomlinson, the Nubian Queen, beat me by three minutes.  I was third in the blowjob hierarchy my senior year.”

     “I have to ask.  Why was Shineeka called the Nubian Queen?” said Stacy putting on sunglasses.

     “Black as coal with classic Negroid features.  She was also six foot four and averaged twenty points a game.  She got a full b-ball scholarship to the University of Tennessee.  But even with all her athletic talent and rapport with our all black team she couldn’t touch Sarah’s record.”

     “Did you ever experience this Sarah’s phenomenal mouth play,” asked Stacy?

     “Yes, my junior year, she and I fell in love for over a month.  Until we broke up, we did it at her house every day after school.  Sarah loved sixty nine.”

      “Don’t we all.  But you said she did guys too,” said Stacy.  

      “She was bi but she preferred pussy to cock. 

     “Did anybody at your school ever study?  Everyone at my school was so intent on going to an Ivy League college we didn’t have time for sex.  At least, most of us didn’t.”

     “I studied but GTA and sex were the preferred curricula,” said Portia.

     “GTA?”

     “Grand Theft Auto, here, let me fix your hair,” said Portia pulling the cap and wig off Stacy.

***

    

     “Stacy Todd to see Leslie Cabot.” Stacy was speaking into the intercom at the gated entrance to the estate whose address Mike had given her.   Mapquest driving instructions rested on the passenger seat.  Stacy was in Beverly Farms, a tiny seacoast town north of Boston.  It was known for having more than its share of New England’s old money families.

    I hope this works thought Stacy.  Portia thinks that if we continue to learn more and more about Mike’s operation, I’ll eventually find some way to escape his clutches.  It sounds pretty desperate but I can’t think of anything better.

     Stacy with Portia’s help had made the transformation from dressed down college girl in jeans to clotheshorse dressed in the latest fashion.  Her clothes were chic and expensive. 

     “You have to impress Leslie Cabot you are her kind of people, a fashionista,” said Portia when they were discussing how to approach the pickup and delivery of the Ecstasy.  In the airline terminal the objective was not to attract attention.  They decided the exact opposite was called for when she delivered the drugs to Leslie.

     “Designer clothes, labels that will impress her,” said Portia.  “Cool high fashion for a warm summer afternoon.”

     “I don’t have anything like that.  The clothes I wear when I’m with Mike are for evening,” said Stacy.

     “Then we need to go shopping,” said Portia.  They’d decided on a cream-colored suit and matching blouse from a tiny boutique on Boston’s Newbury Street.  The designer’s name was relatively new but she was considered a rising star in the fashion world.  Adding shoes, scarf, and sunglasses brought the cost to well over a thousand dollars.

     “You look like something out of Elle or Vogue,” said Portia when Stacy finished dressing and was about to exit the van for her car.

     “I look incredibly overdressed to deliver drugs,” said Stacy leaning in to kiss Portia.  “Think we should meet Esther Wolfenson to see if Sarah was representative of Jewish womanhood?”

     “Yes, we’ll consider it research,” laughed Portia.  “Let’s go to Mariposa’s.  See if she’s got a friend.”

     “I’ll call her when I get back,” said Stacy.

     Stacy drove down the long curving driveway finally reaching the front of the brick mansion.  The back of the building faced the part of the Atlantic Ocean named Cape Anne after a former Queen of England.  The setting was spectacular and the size of the mansion and the grounds impressive; but Stacy noticed the trim could use a paint job and the hedges needed pruning.  There were weeds growing through cracks in the pavement.  It was an observation only a rich girl like Stacy would be likely to make.  In Weston maintaining your estate properly signified you still had real money.

     An elderly butler rushed down the stairs to open the car door.

     “Can I take that for you, Miss Todd?  I’m Albert, Miss Cabot’s butler,” offered the aged butler when Stacy lifted the rolling box out of the passenger seat.  He’s got to be in his seventies thought Stacy as she gracefully swung her legs out onto the pavement.  In spite of his age, Stacy noticed he took an extra second to admire her legs.

     “Yes, Albert, as long as it stays with me until I deliver it to Miss Cabot,” said Stacy walking up the steps.

    “Miss Cabot and Mr. Trabert are poolside, if you will follow me,” said Albert leading Stacy through the mansion toward the Atlantic side.   The buildings architect had not neglected the side facing the ocean.  Stacy emerged onto a broad marble floored verandah that overlooked a long slopping grade of lawn ending on the rocky shore. Waves were crashing onto the rocks sending plumes of spray into the air. Sails of hundreds of boats in the distance completed the vista.  Barely visible and to one side, there was a quiet inlet with a dock.  A forty-foot ocean going motor sailor was moored along with a smaller powerboat.    

    “If you will please wait here, Miss Todd, I will inform Ms. Cabot you have arrived,” said Albert leaving Stacy as he walked carefully down the steps to the pool.

     Immediately off the verandah were a full sized swimming pool and Jacuzzi.  At the far end, out of the house’s shadow, two people were lying on chaises absorbing the sun’s rays.  Leslie Cabot was face down tanning her backside. Her attire consisted of the bottom of a thong bikini.  Her companion was face up and totally nude.  Even at a distance Stacy could see he was magnificently equipped. The term Greek God came to mind when Stacy saw his muscular build.  They were both tanned beyond the point where Stacy’s mother would have launched into her skin cancer lecture.

    A topless Leslie Cabot stood up quickly when Albert got close enough to announce Stacy’s arrival.  Albert helped Leslie into a robe.  Leslie said something to the nude man but the ocean breeze prevented the sound from carrying.  Mr. Trabert waved his arm dismissively.   Leslie said something Stacy could almost hear then turned and walked toward Stacy. 

    Stacy surmised Leslie had asked Mr. Trabert to cover up the sizeable weapon resting on his thigh and he had dismissed the suggestion out of hand.  Stacy concluded any man with a cock that large would want it to be seen by as many members of the feminine gender as possible.  The thought also occurred as to whether it would be possible to enjoy penetration by Mr. Trabert.  There was supposed to be a size beyond which intercourse brought pain not pleasure.  Still Stacy decided in spite of the risk to her vagina, she would chance it should opportunity arise.

     “Leslie Cabot, you must be Stacy,” said Leslie extending her hand.

     Up close Stacy saw that Leslie’s lifestyle had taken its toll.  Too much sun, booze, drugs, and late nights concluded Stacy observing Leslie’s wrinkles. Stacy thought it likely some of the income from drug sales would finance the cosmetic surgery needed to put things right for a while.

     “Yes, you have such a beautiful place here,” said Stacy taking Leslie’s hand.

     “Thank you, it’s been in the family since forever.  Costs a fortune to keep up and the taxes are highway robbery.  Shouldn’t we know each other?  Todd, let me think.  Your father is a banker, no a stock broker.”

     “A surgeon actually,” said Stacy realizing she was going through some kind of charade.  Leslie knew exactly who she was and what her father did for a living.

     “Yes, Samuel Todd, the brilliant heart surgeon. You must be so proud of him.  You’re one of those Todd’s.  You’re Doreen’s daughter.  Your mother is such a wonderful, giving, person always ready to help with the less fortunate,” said Leslie.

     Stacy’s surprise was lessened by the knowledge the life story of her well-known parents was on the WEB.  Portia often repeated that everyone’s biography was only three WEB pages away. 

    On the other hand, Stacy’s mother was active in several local and national charities.  It was entirely possible she and Leslie Cabot could know each other.  That was something she and Portia had not considered.

     “Thank you, Ms. Cabot.  My mother has always felt a keen sense of noblesse oblige when it comes to her work at the clinic,” said Stacy acknowledging her mother donated several hours each week to patients who could not afford her services.

     “Leslie dear, no one calls me Ms. Cabot except old Albert.  Ellis and I were just about to have lunch.  Join us,” said Leslie putting her arm around Stacy.

     “No, I couldn’t,” said Stacy.

     “I insist.  And won’t take no for an answer.  It’s nothing fancy just a salad Albert threw together.  If I had known Doreen Todd had such a beautiful daughter, I would have made it a point to meet you before this.  Give me a minute to put this away then we can have a chat over lunch,” said Leslie taking the rolling box and disappearing into the house. 

     Stacy found herself staring at the man lying in the chaise.  Apparently, he noticed Stacy’s stare because he lifted his cock so she could see it was not only usually long but also thick.

     “Now, let’s see if we can get Ellis to put something on.  I hope you’re not offended.  He can be such a show off,” said Leslie when she returned after a few seconds.

     “Not at all, I appreciate the male physique especially one so imposing,” said Stacy as they walked off the veranda toward a poolside table.

     “Well, don’t you complement him or he’ll try to seduce you.  He thinks every woman he meets can’t wait to hop in bed with him.”

     “I have to say the thought has occurred to me already,” said Stacy. “Not that I would without your permission.”

     “I see we share similar appetites.  Mike said you and I would get on.  I already see we have similar tastes in men.  How do you feel about women?” asked Leslie taking Stacy’s hand.

     “My rule is to love the one I’m with,” said Stacy smiling back as she applied the slightest pressure to Leslie’s hand before releasing it.

     “I can see we will get along famously,” said Leslie as they arrived at the table.  “For God’s sake, Ellis put something on.  You’re embarrassing me.  Come meet Stacy,” yelled Leslie.

     Ellis stood up and wrapped a towel around his waist.  Up close, he was even more impressive, movie star handsome with the physique of a competitive body builder.  He has to be six feet six thought Stacy noting he had the rolling gate of an athlete as he walked the few steps to meet her.

     “Ellis Trabert, this is Stacy Todd,” said Leslie.

     “Hello, Stacy, Leslie didn’t tell me we were having another beautiful woman join us this afternoon,” said Ellis taking her hand in his oversized paw.  He spoke in a clipped British accent.”

      “Thank you, I had to drop something by and Leslie was kind enough to invite me for lunch.”

     “You should stay and take the sun.”

     “Yes, the pool is delightful.  This may be the last good day before our horrible New England winter begins,” said Leslie.

     “I’m afraid I am without a bathing costume,” said Stacy.

     “I probably have one you can wear if that’s necessary,” said Leslie.

     “It’s not.  I was just being modest,” said Stacy.

     “You two sit down and get to know each other while I run inside and see about lunch,” said Leslie heading back to the house.  “Ellis tell Stacy about being a Beefeater and about how you used to bugger one another in the barracks.”

     “Water,” asked Ellis removing a plastic bottle from a cooler beside the table.

     “Yes, thank you, what part of the UK,” asked Stacy?

     “Outside of London,” said Ellis.

     “And you were really a guard at the Tower of London?”

     “Yes, I can see you’ve been there.  And for your information, I did most of the buggering.”

     “I can believe that.  Having a cock that large must have its advantages,” said Stacy.

     “I was promoted twice.  My captain gratefully offered me a commission and an appointment to Sandhurst,” said Ellis.

     “But you decided to offer your talents to the Colonials,” said Stacy.

     “Yes, a friend persuaded me that Hollywood beckoned.  I would be the new Schwartzeneger.  But it wasn’t to be.”

     “With your looks and talents, I’m surprised you weren’t successful,” said Stacy.

     “Thank you but Hollywood is populated by men with looks and talent.  We’re as common as prostitutes on lower Sunset,” said Ellis.

     “So how did you meet Leslie,” asked Stacy?

     “I showed her my cock and she fell in love with it.  She insisted on taking it home with her and I came along,” said Ellis.

     “How very romantic.”

     “And what about you?”

     “College student, pre-law,” said Stacy.

     “You forgot to mention, Harvard, wealthy family of renown doctors, Olympics, and the disgusting business of dealing drugs,” said Ellis. 

    “I can see my curricula vitae has proceeded me.  You don’t approve of ingesting chemicals.  I gather Leslie does,” said Stacy.

    “I’ve tried to tell her how destructive they are.  But she’s hopeless,” said Ellis. “I value my body too much to pollute it.  Drugs will eventually destroy America’s ruling class,” said Ellis.

    “I can see where you might be right,” said Stacy.  “Except for marijuana I have managed to avoid them.”

     “Other than delivering them in large quantities to a woman who desperately needs money to keep up appearances,” said Ellis.

     “Some of us have no choice,” said Stacy.  “You’ve very forthright.”

     “Salad’s here,” said Leslie arriving on the scene carrying a large glass bowl of greens.  Albert followed pushing a small cart containing the table settings.

     “So what have you two been talking about,” asked Leslie taking a seat.

     “The Tower of London, Hollywood, college, and oh yes, after lunch, Stacy would like us to go inside and fuck,” said Ellis.  “Poor girl hasn’t been able to take her eyes off my prick since she got here.”

     “I consider it the true Tower of London and I’m a committed anglophile,” said Stacy pouring a small amount of dressing onto her salad.

     “What a lovely idea. I just hope Stacy knows what she’s getting into.  Ellis’s last impromptu conquest was my cousin, Aileen.  Poor dear had to lie to her husband when he asked why she was walking around bow legged.”

     “I’ll sign a release if that’s required,” said Stacy.

     “Witty as your mother and beautiful as your father,” said Leslie putting her hand on Stacy’s arm.  “I’m so looking forward to going inside for dessert.”