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Adventures on the Lost Continent (Midnight Lass x Blood Red Romeo)

Safa nodded, then turned to Tamra and said something. The two exchanged a somewhat lively exchange before Safa asked something point blank. Tamra blushed, but nodded. Safa said something else. Tamra visibly straightened her shoulders, walked up to Orson, took his right hand, and placed it on her left breast.

"My first time too," she said with a ragged breath.
 
“Tamra,” he said quietly. Going on the streak of honesty to himself, while Tamra might not be his favorite in terms of looks, she was the one he had felt the greatest connection to so far. As such, he felt his own heart race even more as he touched her. And, even moreso than with Safa, he craved more.

“I’m honored,” he told her, gently and slowly fondling her chest. “But I need to know, are you doing this because you were told to?” he asked quietly. “Or because you want to?” His voice became hopeful at this last question, a more aggressive squeeze accompanying it.
 
"Oh geez,' Tamra moaned, a thrill of pleasure coursing through her body at the firm but soft handling of her breasts by Orson. "Safa asked....mmmmm....when i watched....yes!...if I wanted. I do!" she groaned in appreciation.

Safa walked up and placed Orson's free hand on her own chest again. "Safa says you can touch us both, if you want," Tamra said with a whimper of pleasure.
 
She wanted him to do this. That alone sent an incredible shock through his body. Even more were the groans that she was producing. They were so tantalizing, he could hardly restrain himself.

When Safa approached, extending her offer, he felt scummy doing so, but not enough to hold him back. His hand began to massage Safa as well. “I want to. I want to touch both of you,” he confessed.

His hands moved rhythmically, playing with them as he wanted while wishing that their shirts and brassieres were gone. But he needed to move slowly. Otherwise, he was certain to lose himself. “Your chests feel so good,” he commented, self control waning a bit. “I could do this all day.”
 
"Tomara hata bismayakara," Safa moaned in pleasure. Tamra, her eyes closed, her mouth half open and smiling in pleasure, could only nod in silent agreement.

After a few seconds, Safa reluctantly removed Orson's hand from her breasts. Tamra followed suit. It took a couple of deep breaths for Tamra's breathing to return to normal

"Safa says that it's time for you to get that drink but..." Tamra bowed her head, a deep red, "... that if all three of us are alone again, she'd be happy to do this more. And so would I."
 
“As would I,” Orson agreed. He felt like he had learned something new about the world today. He had always wanted to touch a woman in that way, but he assumed it was something done purely for a man’s sake. But this seemed to imply that women took their own degree of pleasure from it as well. This was a welcome development. He’d have to work hard to learn more about female pleasure, should this...relationship continue.

He was rather disappointed to have their little session end, but he understood he had work to do. He’d need to get used to that as well. That said, he had his own personal resolve for what he planned to accomplish. He also needed to talk to Dr. Dubois, just to finally bury some skeletons, if possible. “If you girls have nothing else left to discuss, I guess I should go.” He longingly looked at both of them, his eyes openly drifting down to their chests. He clearly wanted to stay and do more. But, again, he knew he had to go.
 
"Yes, well, I suppose I should check on something," Tamra said, her face still flushed as she straightened her blouse. "I suppose I have some first officering I need to do as well." Safa reached up and lightly patted Orson's cheek, before her and Tamra exited Orson's quarters.
 
Orson watching them go, a mixture of relief and disappoint with a dash of confusion mixed in. He was alone and in a strange mood. He needed to get out of here, or the thoughts of those women would drive him crazy.

Orson took a few minutes to get everything in order before leaving his cabin. Thankfully, he was able to avoid the crew while heading out, no one having taken to loitering the halls at all hours of the day. Still, he moved quickly, not wanting to get caught up in anything else that was too crazy.

Once outside, Orson felt a bit more at ease. At least here there was less that could surprise him. With that thought in his head, no matter how wrong it was, the man walked to the Flying Toupee, hoping Dandy would have time for the one drink. At the same time, he kept his eyes open for the mystery woman that he had been seeing in the crowd.
 
As Orson arrived at the entrance of the Flying Toupee, across the street, under the electric street lamp, the face of Orson's mystery woman appeared. She caught Orson's eye and gave him a small, mysterious smile. A small crowd passed between her and Orson and, when they had moved out of the way, the mystery woman had disappeared.

Just at that moment, a large hand clapped itself on Orson's shoulder. "Orson, my boy," the booming voice of Dandy said jovially, "I had just stepped out for a breath of fresh air and here you in. Come in, my boy, come in. Let me buy you a farewell drink. Two days from now, and you'll be heading to fame and fortune."
 
Orson stared. There she was again. Whoever she was, this was getting uncomfortable. He wanted to call out to her, but once again, she disappeared. Maybe she was the hunter, or maybe he was going crazy.

“Ah, Dandy,” he said, turning his attention to the man in question. “It’s good you can read minds. Exactly what I came here for. So come on, treat me to the good stuff before my months to the sky,” he said, heading into the bar.
 
"Beer or whiskey?" Dandy asked, as he led Orson up to the bar. "I've got the best in private stock, no matter which one you want."
 
“Whiskey,” Orson replies almost instantly. He never liked the taste of hops. Beer wasn’t his drink. “I’m curious to see what the legendary Dandy’s best is. Hopefully it lives up to that.”
 
"Just the thing," Dandy chuckled. He disappeared through a door behind the bar, then returned with a dust covered brownish bottle with Gaelic writing on it.

"This I, er....rescued," Dandy said with a laugh, "More than a few years back, under circumstances best not discussed. From a distillery on one of those islands off the coast of Scotland; I thnk this is just the moment to open her up." Dandy poured himself a healthy glass full, then did the same for Orson. "Safe and profitable travels, my boy," Dandy said, lifting his glass.
 
“To survivable and profitable travels,” he said back, clinking his glass against Dandy’s before taking a healthy drink from it. “Damn, that is good,” he said, putting it down for the moment.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, why stop?” he asked his old friend. “I mean, I get you got a good thing going here, but you could’ve kept up no problem with the airship lifestyle. What made you decide you’d rather run a bar than a ship?”
 
"Oh, I suppose I could have gone a few more years," Dandy admitted as he sipped his whiskey. "I'm still in decent enough shape. Granted, I've lost a step or two, but I've seen and done enough that nobody's hiring me strictly for the muscle I bring into the mix. I suppose, Orson, I left the life because I could do so on my own terms. After all, a man really doesn't need that much money, and this place brings in all that I need. If I get to really missing the life, all I have to do is buy a few rounds and I can hear all the tale tales that I want. And at the end of the night, I can lock up the place and go to sleep in my own soft, warm bed." Dandy shrugged as he concluded, "Mind you, I have no regrets to the life I lived that brought me to where I am today, but I'm ready to enjoy this new stage in my life."
 
“I’ll drink to that,” Orson replied, lifting his glass into the air before drinking from it again. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to doing the same. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I want to explore, I want to see the world,” he quickly clarified. “But I don’t want to die in the middle of nowhere on a routine job I’ve been doing for decades. Once I’ve had my fill, hopefully I can retire. Find a good place, a good woman, the classics,” he went on to say, already feeling a little bit of the generous amount of strong alcohol coursing through his veins. “Just got to survive traveling to the place no one has ever returned from. Simple as that.”
 
"The secret is," Dandy said, draining his glass, "Is to know when to make your last trip your last trip. Refill?" Dandy asked, lifting the bottle.
 
“I’ll have to pass,” he said, downing the last of his glass. “Excellent whiskey, mind you. But I can’t afford to get drunk. I’ve still got some things to do tonight and I’ve got a test flight tomorrow. Plus I’ve got a dozen women on board, some of which I’m already on thin ice with. I doubt showing up for their first flight with a massive hangover would do much to endear myself to them,” he said with a smile.

“I remember back when I first signed up with that ship. Remember? I was this fourteen year old kid that was convinced I had fooled everyone into thinking I was eighteen? I know no one actually believed me now,” he said with a laugh. “I remember being told women couldn’t serve because they were too weak to serve and too soft to handle it. I can now say they are full of shit.”
 
"Well, there are other consideration," Dandy responded, pouring himself another glass. "I think if you had a crew of equal parts men and women, there'd be too many distractions. Or if you had just one or two women onboard, there'd be more than one fight to break out. Who knows? Or maybe a hundred years from now, they'll be doing it with no muss, no fuss, and think us a bunch of primitives for not doing it now. Well, I'll leave the future to the future, and the now to the now. Well, luck to you on your flight and voyage, Orson my boy," Dandy said, draining his second glass in one shot. "And I'll see when you return with riches and glory."
 
“When I get back, next round is on me,” he replied. He almost asked for a second drink, but Safa’s words echoed in his head. A glass of whiskey that full was already pushing the limits of “one drink,” so he decided that was a good spot to end it. “Take care of yourself,” he told his old friend. He knew it wasn’t necessary, but he said it none the less. Then Orson stepped out of the Flying Toupee and into the evening air.

Orson took his time walking back towards the ship, happy about his meeting with Dandy, but also conflicted on what happened with Tamra and Safa. He needed to talk to his first officer about that, preferably alone, just to try and figure out what this was.

As he was heading back, he found himself passing by a bookstore, surprised it was still open. Then again, it had yet to become too late. Deciding this would be the last chance in a while he’d have to visit one, he took the time to step inside. Maybe he might find something useful inside.

It was a quaint store. Not exactly special, but it was serviceable. Shelves upon shelves of tightly packed together books. He passed by the section of holy books, never being a religious man himself. His parents had tried, but had actually succeeded in driving him away from any faith in God. If they were what passed for religious, he’d embrace agnosticism.

After some browsing, he decided he’d purchase a few things. The first was a sort of guide to the foods available on the lost continent. While it may not be useful for the interior, he imagined it’d help Vu and Qui plan out meals based on what they could expect to scavenge. A few cheap novels caught his attention as a potential way to relax during the journey, should the time arise. Next, love stories. He seemed to actually be entering into a relationship. As an explorer, he knew to research what he could before entering new territory. He didn’t know of any guides to love and sex, but he imagined these books were as good a place to start as any. Finally, a book on the history of the great sky pirates. It was brand new, so Orson couldn’t help but laugh at how the author, a Thomas Alabaster, must feel about the most recent development. Still, it could be interesting to read up on.

With his new books in hand, Orson returned to his ship, content with the haul he had made. It had been a good evening. Now to drop his books off and then head to the mess. He hadn’t ever gotten back to his dinner, leaving the young man starving.
 
At the entrance of the Midnight Curse. Lauren was standing talking with Miharu, a strange looking coil of rope in her hand.

"Good evening, Captain," Miharu said brightly.

"Evening, Captain James," Lauren said with a smile. "I brought a few things over, and thought I'd bunk here tonight, then finish up tomorrow, before the test flight. I was showing Miharu here this rope I got from New Zealand. It's called bungee. It stretches, then snaps back into place. Good for securing stuff, but also for a few stunts, if you're so inclined," she added with a laugh. "This particular coil is my own creation. Stronger and stretchier."
 
“Good evening ladies,” he greeted. His eyes turned to the rope she was holding, thinking he understood the purpose. While he had never done it himself, he had heard of people jumping from cliffs with stretchy ropes before. “I’m good on stunts for now. Rather not screw up and kill myself before the expedition. Maybe after,” he replied. “I imagine Miharu is about to try it out. Or did she already do that?”
 
"I talked her out of it," Lauren said with a laugh. "Too many things can go wrong in the dark. And not something you need to do on a full stomach," she grinned at Miharu.

Miharu blushed but nodded. "I went back and had more helpings of spaghetti, Captain. But there is still plenty left."
 
“Good to know,” he replied. His stomach growled almost as if on cue, making him laugh again. “Personally, I’m starving. Didn’t get a chance to eat before I was pulled into a few meetings. I was worried between Miharu and Saki, the kitchen had already been emptied,” he partially joked. Those two could eat a ridiculous amount of food. They’d need to be careful on food estimates. No amount of training would help if there was no food. “Unless you need something, I’ll be on my way.”
 
Miharu shook her head, before Lauren responded, "I've got nothing." Lauren them motioned to what Orson was carrying. "See you go an addition to that impressive ship's library of yours," Lauren noted, nodding toward the books Orson was carrying.

"Dr. Wilson has promised to teach me to read English," Miharu said excitedly. "Then I will read all the library!"

"If your reading appetite is anything like your eating appetite, Miharu, I don't doubt it," Lauren laughed. "Well, good night, Captain, and bon apetit!"
 
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