Going Home - East for the Holidays

The waiter returned as soon as Gwen finished her French toast and bacon. 'Will there be anything else?' he asked, half-expecting Gwen to order more. Gwen shook her head no as she chewed the last bit of bacon.

'Just the check, thank you.' He pulled a pad from a pocket in his apron, set down the check, and withdrew. I paid the tab and left a generous tip.

We went to the observation lounge and found a seat. A few minutes after we sat, The Swashbuckler came over and sat in the chair on the other side of Gwen. She ignored him while we spoke, never once acknowledging his presence. But he was persistent and kept trying to engage her in conversation.

I initially ignored him but he gradually got on my nerves.

He reached out and tried to take her hand in his. She emphatically pulled it away.

'Truly, darling,' he began in a voice everyone around was sure to hear. 'You deserve much better than this drab fellow. Come spend the day with me. I assure you that we'll have a wonderful time. And if you want, you can return to him in the morning after we spend a fabulous night together in Chicago.'

Gwen was aghast. I was boiling. I stood up and stepped toward him. He stood and turned to face me. We were nose to nose. He was my height. He was muscular and athletic under his finely tailored suit. But I wasn't intimidated. Like my father, I stayed in shape. I ran every day. I played basketball three times a week. As soon as I got a whiff of his breath, I knew he was ready to take a swing. It wasn't even lunch time, but he was drunk.

'The lady has already made it clear she's not interested,' I told him. 'Why don't you find yourself a seat at the bar and have another drink.'

'The lady hasn't turned me down,' he responded. 'She should join me. She'll have much more fun with me than with you.'

'Haven't you noticed that she's ignoring you? You can barely stand. You should find a seat before you fall down. Just go away and leave us alone.'

'I'll be happy to leave you alone,' he said. 'Come my, dear, join me for a drink.' He reached his hand out, like Gwen would naturally take it and join him.

I took his elbow and gently pushed him toward the bar. He took a swing at me. The punch caught me squarely in the nose. He was off balance and there was no power behind it, but my nose still exploded in pain. I released his elbow and pushed him away. He took a boxer's stance and threw another punch but he misjudged the distance between us. It found only air.

He moved in closer for another shot at me. I jabbed with my left hand while stepping back. I knew if the jab landed, it wouldn't have much effect. But the jab was a set-up. He responded as I hoped he would -- he bobbed he head to his left, slipping the punch easily and stepped forward to crowd me. I timed my next punch perfectly. I threw a right cross, throwing my shoulder and body weight into it. His head was still moving to his left, into the right hand that landed hard on the left side of his jaw. His whole face contorted from the force of the blow. He staggered to his right and fell over, knocking over our table. He didn't get up. He didn't even move.

My right hand felt like I had punched a rock wall. I grasped my right wrist with my left hand and sat in the nearest chair, landing hard. Between the pain in my hand and my still smarting nose, tears poured out of my eyes.

Our brief fight had only taken seconds. Staff suddenly swarmed us. Gwen and I were hustled toward a door. Others tended to the man on the floor.

We were led to our room and herded inside. A steward led me to a chair and asked if I was alright. He looked at my hand and told one of his partners to see if there was a doctor available, the other he sent for ice.

Shortly after the ice arrived, a man in his fifties wearing a rumpled suit and carrying a black bag knocked at the open door. He introduced himself and stepped forward to examine my hand. He manipulated the bones while looking at the back of my hand, sending bolts of pain through the hand and blinding white light through my vision.

'You might have a fracture or two but there's no compound fracture.' He gently put the hand in our empty ice bucket and added ice from the bucket the steward had brought. 'I need something to immobilize his hand. Find a magazine or something else I can use as a splint.'

The steward ran off again, returning a few minutes later with a first aid kit and several magazines.

While the doctor splinted my hand, he engaged me in conversation. 'Is Chicago your destination?' he asked.

'No, Boston.' I managed to answer through gritted teeth.

'When does your train leave?' he asked.

'Tomorrow afternoon.' I told him. 'We're staying overnight at The Congress.'

'I live in Chicago. My wife is picking me up. We'll take you to the hospital. This needs a cast before you go to Boston.' We arranged to meet after arriving in Chicago.

Two stewards remained.

'Can someone arrange to get our bags to The Congress?' I asked them.

'Certainly, sir,' the older of the two answered. 'I'm happy to see to it. I believe you also have a trunk. It will be transferred to your connection and will be available when you arrive in Boston.'

I reached my good hand into my pocket and removed my money clip. I handed it to Gwen and indicated she should give the steward some money. She pulled out a ten-dollar bill. I shook my head. She pulled out a twenty and I indicated another. She handed me the money and I gave it to the steward. He thanked me and said he'd return just before we arrived in Chicago to collect my bags. They departed and Gwen closed the door.

Once we were alone, she kissed my nose gingerly and then brushed her lips against mine. 'My hero!' she whispered.

'I don't feel like a hero.' I muttered.

There was a knock on the door.

'What now?' I wondered aloud.

Gwen answered the door. A short, well-dressed man stood outside the door. He was too well-dressed to be a railroad detective or supervisor.

He nodded a greeting to Gwen and looked past her to me. 'I understand you had some trouble with my client a little while ago,' he said.

'If you're referring to the man in the lounge car, then, yes, we had a little problem.'

He winced when he saw my hand. 'I'm apologize for his inexcusable behavior. May I come in to talk with you and try to make amends?'

Gwen stepped aside and ushered him in.

'This is partly my fault,' he began. 'I overslept this morning so he managed to get away on his own. I do my best to keep him reined in but he still manages to get into trouble.'

'Is he going to be alright?' I asked. 'I hit him pretty hard. He went down and didn't get up.'

'He'll live. And tomorrow, he probably won't know how he got the bruise on the side of his face. How is your hand?'

'The doctor that looked at it said he thinks it's fractured. He's going to take me to a hospital when we get to Chicago.'

The man reached in his pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to me. 'My address is on the card. Send the hospital bill to me and I'll take care of it. Where are you staying?' he asked.

'We have reservations at The Congress.' I told him.

'You'll be my guest,' he told us. 'The restaurant there is very good. Have dinner and charge it to the room. I know these gestures won't make up for my client's obnoxious behavior. But at least I can lessen the inconvenience a little. If there's anything else I can do, don't hesitate to call that number. Collect. Someone will answer and we'll do our best to accommodate any reasonable request.'

'You're not responsible for this. Why are you doing it?' I asked.

'Because I'm well-paid to keep him out of trouble and cover his tracks when he finds it anyway. One more thing. I promise, your altercation will somehow reach the press by the time you get to Chicago. Reporters are likely to be at the station and want to talk to you. Deal with them as you see fit. Answer their questions or ignore them. It's your choice. We'll have no comment.'

'Thank you, but all this is not necessary. Paying the hospital bill is enough.' I told him.

'Trust me, it's the least I can do. My client is going to pay for everything. Maybe someday he'll become an adult, though I doubt it. Please excuse me. I have to tend to my client. Once again, please accept my apologies. I hope the rest of your journey is trouble-free.'

When we arrived at our hotel, it was past time for dinner. I gave the desk clerk my name. He didn't even look at his reservation list.

'Of course, Mr. Taylor. Your bags are already in your room,' he told me. He raised his hand and signaled a nearby bellhop. 'Roger, take Mr. and Mrs. Taylor to their room.' He handed a key to the bellhop.

'Before we go, can I get a table for two in the restaurant?' I asked.

'A table is already reserved for you, sir. It's available at your convenience.'

We followed the bellhop to the elevator where he told the elevator operator. 'Penthouse.'

Gwen and I looked at each other.

'We don't need the penthouse. The room I reserved is all we need.' I objected.

'Yes, sir.' Was all the bellhop said.

When the elevator stopped, he stepped forward and unlocked the door. He opened the door ahead of us and stepped aside to usher us in.

'Will there be anything else, sir?' he asked.

'No, thank you.' I reached into my pocket and took out my money clip. What was the appropriate tip when you were staying in the penthouse?

The bellhop held his hands up, palms facing me. 'No, sir. I've already been taken care of. I'm at your beck and call until midnight when Ben will take over. When he gets off at 8:00 AM, Gerald will be available. We've all been taken care of.'

Gwen spoke up. 'Can you have breakfast delivered at 9:30 tomorrow?'

'Yes, ma'am, my pleasure.' He turned to leave.

'Don't you need to know what to bring?' Gwen asked.

'No, ma'am. A wide assortment of breakfast food has already been ordered. All that was needed was when to deliver it.' With that, he departed.

Gwen and I undressed and washed up, me with Gwen's help. We dressed casually for dinner, again I had help from Gwen.

Dinner was very good although the throbbing in my hand put a damper on the evening. We split a bottle of wine. A big mistake on my part. The painkillers I had taken for my hand, in combination with the wine, had my head spinning when we returned to our room. Gwen somehow managed to get me undressed and into bed before I fell on my face. I was out cold as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I didn't wake until breakfast was delivered. Gwen was already up, wrapped in a plush white robe. I sat up and looked around the room. Tall windows provided a view of the lake. The sky was dark gray and looked potentially ominous. My hand throbbed mercilessly and my head pounded in time with it. I staggered to the bathroom, followed closely by Gwen.

I reached to fish my cock out to empty my bladder but the cast on my hand forced me to reconsider and use my left. Gwen giggled and pushed my hand away. I frowned at her. I needed to relieve myself.

'Let me help,' she said. She stood behind me and reached in with her right hand to pull out my cock. She aimed carefully and said. 'OK, I think you're ready.'

Her aim was off a bit but she corrected immediately. If my head didn't hurt so much, I might have been amused. When I was finished, she was wearing a big smile.

'I always wanted to do that!' she laughed.

'Do what?' I asked.

'Pee standing up!' She responded with a big grin. 'Ever since I saw my brother do it when we were out in the woods beyond the pond. I was jealous. I always had to go back to the house and for all intents and purposes get undressed. I didn't think it was fair!'

Despite my addled brain, I recognized this was the first time Gwen shared a happy memory of her brother. Despite the fog in my head, I realized the significance of her story, even if she didn't. I somehow managed to smile.

We washed up and ate breakfast.

Gwen drew a bath, undressed me, and dropped the robe. She told me to stand in the tub and stepped in with me. She squatted down and lathered up my legs beginning at the bottom. By the time she reached my thighs, I was standing tall. The whole process was just too erotic not to get excited.

She lathered up her hands and looked up at me from her perch on her knees in the bathtub. 'My, my! What's got you up this morning?' she smiled.

She soaped my cock with the bar of soap and dropped it into the water. She took my cock in her hands and lathered it up. Her hands caressed my sac, stroked my shaft, and teased the head. The mass of soap made her hands slip and slide easily over my hard flesh. The sensation was exquisite.

When my hips began to move with her hands, she knew I was getting close. She doubled the pace of her stroking. Just when I thought I was going to cum, she stopped and stood. I grunted in frustration. Gwen stood before me and soaped up her crotch. When there were as many suds between her legs as there were on my cock, she turned around and backed up to me. She reached between her legs and guided my cock into position between her legs. With one hand, she held my cock against her, the other she placed on the tile to help maintain her balance.

While she held me against her, she slid her hips back and forth, keeping me trapped between her pussy and her hand. She moved her hips back and forth, gradually increasing speed. On each backward stroke, she pushed my cockhead against her clit. Within minutes, we were both breathing hard. I felt my balls begin to tingle. Gwen sensed my heightened state and pushed my cockhead against her opening. She didn't push me in. Instead, she moved her hips rapidly back and forth while holding my cockhead in place with her slippery, soapy fingers. The tingling intensified as Gwen rapidly slid back and forth on my cockhead.

I exploded into her hand. Jet after jet shot from my cock as my body twitched and shook. Gwen wrapped her hand around the head of my cock. The mix of soap suds and cum was slippery beyond belief and magnified the sensations I was experiencing. Gwen moved her other hand between her legs and rubbed her clit rapidly. She joined seconds later, her body shaking and twitching through her orgasm.

She turned to me and grazed her lips across mine.

Gwen pulled the plug. She turned on the tap and adjusted the water temperature. She rinsed us both off with a hand-held shower attachment. While she dried off, I tried to do the same. Gwen laughed a little at my futile efforts at self-sufficiency and took the towel to finish drying me.

We got dressed, packed our bags and called for Gerald. He arrived promptly and took our bags. I stopped at the desk only to be told all was taken care of. Gerald led us to the street where he loaded our bags into a waiting Packard limo.

The driver asked which train we were on and took us to the station without further instruction. He unloaded our bags and told the porter our train. I thanked him and reached into my pocket. He put his hands up and shook his head.

'I've been taken care of, sir. Have a nice trip.' He got into the car and drove off.

The porter told us our track number and loaded our bags onto a cart. He looked at our tickets and told us our bags would be in our room shortly. I slipped him a five and headed toward our track.

The Chicago-to-Boston leg had only one overnight. It was blessedly uneventful. Except for Gwen's appetite.