25-06-2020, 06:39 PM
As we drove to the airport, I couldn't help but compare Denise to the other three wives. I thought my wife was easily the best looking of the four, but with no make up and her hair up in a bun, it was far from obvious. I also knew for a fact, that my wife had the largest breasts of any of the women, but in her sweatshirt, it wasn't apparent that she had any breasts at all. Her tennis shoes made quite a contrast with the three pair of sexy heels the other wives wore.
The amenities on the private jet were extensive. The wine was excellent. We had a choice of filet mignon, salmon, or chicken marsala. Champagne was available on request. Naturally, there were no charges.
The flight took somewhat longer than a commercial flight since the smaller jet could not attain the higher flight speeds of a 747, but the seating was so comfortable and the food so good, no one minded in the slightest.
Throughout the flight, Preston Schandel and the three Board Members circulated throughout the cabin introducing themselves again to each of us, chatting about some of the planned activities and emphasizing that while they would be involved with evaluations, they wanted us to all enjoy the week and to let them know if we needed anything...anything at all.
I was somewhat surprised to note that the CEO and each Board Member spent more time chatting with Denise than with any of the other, more attractively attired, wives. Whenever they approached her, she would politely put her book on the life of Winston Churchill aside, listen, and respond to the questions they were asking. When one left, she resumed her reading until someone else sat down to chat with her.
Carie, Rena, and Sonia busied themselves chatting and frequently laughing about something. Rena and Sonia looked over at my wife from time to time, smiling or laughing. Carie, however, seemed to pay more attention to me than to Denise. She seemed almost sad and concerned.
Having no way to know what was going on, I decided to ignore it and just enjoy the week. It might be the only chance I would ever have to see the Cayman Islands.
The amenities on the private jet were extensive. The wine was excellent. We had a choice of filet mignon, salmon, or chicken marsala. Champagne was available on request. Naturally, there were no charges.
The flight took somewhat longer than a commercial flight since the smaller jet could not attain the higher flight speeds of a 747, but the seating was so comfortable and the food so good, no one minded in the slightest.
Throughout the flight, Preston Schandel and the three Board Members circulated throughout the cabin introducing themselves again to each of us, chatting about some of the planned activities and emphasizing that while they would be involved with evaluations, they wanted us to all enjoy the week and to let them know if we needed anything...anything at all.
I was somewhat surprised to note that the CEO and each Board Member spent more time chatting with Denise than with any of the other, more attractively attired, wives. Whenever they approached her, she would politely put her book on the life of Winston Churchill aside, listen, and respond to the questions they were asking. When one left, she resumed her reading until someone else sat down to chat with her.
Carie, Rena, and Sonia busied themselves chatting and frequently laughing about something. Rena and Sonia looked over at my wife from time to time, smiling or laughing. Carie, however, seemed to pay more attention to me than to Denise. She seemed almost sad and concerned.
Having no way to know what was going on, I decided to ignore it and just enjoy the week. It might be the only chance I would ever have to see the Cayman Islands.
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