Night Terror

Come on, people, stand away from the door please," the tour guide yelled to the happy, milling people. His eye invariably fell to the cleavage of the nearby blonde in the scant bathing suit. It was a unique costume for gliding, very original and attractive. It had most of the males in the cable car groaning in agony and lust.
 The harsh overhead lights dimmed momentarily, breaking the tour guide's amazed stare. He tore his eyes away from the blonde's ample cleavage and looked out the window at the approaching platform. He hoped that nobody noticed the bulge of his cock, hard and thrusting against the material of his pants.
 "How do we know the gliders are safe?" the blonde asked, intentionally returning his attention to her. The tour guide swallowed twice before he could answer. As his eyes went to the blonde, he used a steal will to keep his eyes from going to her chest. Her companion, an equally blonde and flawless male, smiled at the tour guide's dilemma. He liked seeing the reactions to Anne's amazing figure. It made her seem more... attractive, more desirable.
 "Wa... we test them before we leave. Each one has been tested. You will see that I will pick a glider at random, I use no special machine. I would not jump off a 3 thousand foot cliff without a tested glider."
 "Wonderful. Are there any rules against having sex on the way down," she asked in her innocent, little- girl voice.
 "Oh God," the tour guide groaned, turning away so he could push his cock down into his pants without being observed. The car bumped into the platform, coming to a sudden stop. The tour guide fell through the doors as they opened. He waited for the crowd to exit before he grabbed one end of a foam box. His assistant grabbed the other end and they carried the heavy box out onto the landing. The group watched curiously as the tour guide repositioned the box and threw open the lid. Inside were a jumble of archaic looking torches and a jumble of web-belts, each containing a 6"x12" pack on the rear.
 He handed the first torch and belt to the blonde, before she had the opportunity to bend and retrieve one herself. Her thin blouse strained to contain her breasts, bending could bring forth and explosion of female flesh. The tour guide couldn't stand such a sight He was already horny as hell and there was no prospect of having his hard cock taken care of in the middle of the night, on top of a mountain.
 "Oh look," a cute black-haired woman said, pointing down the slope toward Aspen far below. "Why are the lights shimmering?"
 "The air currents," the tour guide said, handing her a torch and belt. Her hand sagged under the weight of the belt.
 "How can something so heavy, be lighter than air?" she asked, looking at her companion.
 "It's the electronics," her companion said in disdain. He was obviously a CEO type, slightly balding and looking for a thrill. Gliding was the next step up from bungie jumping.
 "Technically, it's not lighter than air," the tour guide said, thrusting belts and torches into the hands around him. "It's slightly heavier. That's why it's called a glider. You still fall, but at a dramatically slower rate."
 "I feel like the statue of liberty," a young gay man said, posing dramatically with a torch in his hand.
 "On guard," his companion said, striking a fencing pose. They pretended to fence, clanging their torches together, to the complete horror of the tour guide. He hurried forward and slapped down their torches.
 "Please, those are very special devices and they cost a fortune. Treat them with respect."
 "I'm an olympic athlete," the second gay man said, holding his torch aloft and pretending to run in place. The tour guide whined in frustration. Sometimes he wished he could bitch-slap a few of the assholes in these groups. On the other hand, he thought as he watched the black haired woman reach down to adjust her socks. The bulge of her perfect ass, and rounded pubes in her black form-fitting tights was bordering on illegal. He could think of many things he would like to slap on her, but not with his hand.
 "Why do we have these?" A portly man in a black windbreaker asked, bouncing the torch in his hand.
 "We are called Liberty Gliding Tours, so it's made to look like a replica of the statue of liberty torch," the tour guide explained. "But it is much, much more than a simple light source. True, it's made to provide the most pleasant light, very conducive to night gliding, but it is also a recording device, to record your Aspen vacation, and a GPS tracking device in case any of you try to escape with our valuable equipment or, God forbid, in case one of you goes down. There is also a tracking device in the belt."
 "I'm going down," the buxom blonde said, pretending to whisper. She elicited several giggles from the men around her.
 "Now, everyone turn on your gliders and step forward, two at a time," he said, clapping his hands. There was actually a steep slope below them, not a cliff. If the belt failed, they may be cut and bruised, but not killed.