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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Summer Camp Nereids
by Nick Scipio (nick@nickscipio.com)
Revision: 1.2
***
Jack MacLean is happy with married life, but it's the
Swinging Sixties and he wants more. His wife does too,
and they have their eye on her new friend, Beth Hughes.
But Jack and Beth's husband will soon be fighting a war
in the skies over Vietnam. When they return, everything
will change. (MF, MFF, bi, mast, oral, group, preg)
***
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This story is intended as ADULT
entertainment. It contains material of an adult,
explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually
explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any
further.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters and
events portrayed in it are fictional, and any
resemblance to real people or incidents is purely
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or
endorse any of the activities described.
***
CHAPTER ONE
Jack climbed down the side of his jet and took off his
helmet. He ran his fingers through his close-cropped
hair and squinted against the glare of the California
sun. With a practiced gesture, he put on his sunglasses
one-handed and glanced up as his crew chief appeared
beside him.
"Hello, Warren," he said.
"Good afternoon, sir." Warren's black face was grave as
his eyes unconsciously flicked over the attack jet, his
baby. "Any more problems with the bombsight?"
"I think it's FUBAR," Jack said. "It crapped out right
after my first run."
Warren grimaced. "I thought it was the wiring harness. I
replaced it with the one from 505" -- the squadron's
hangar queen -- "but I guess it's a problem in the main
unit."
"See if you can scrounge a new one from Chief Estes."
"Aye, aye, sir," Warren said with a distracted air. He
was already deep in thought, planning the work in his
head.
Jack left Warren to his work and walked around the high
nose of the jet, his eyes searching for the pilot of the
adjacent plane.
"How do you think you did, Mr. Maddox?"
"Piece of cake, Lieutenant," the ensign said, his
expression cocky.
Jack chuckled good-naturedly and the two men fell into
step, the ensign automatically adjusting his pace. As
they walked back to the locker room, they talked about
the flight they'd just completed, and the ensign's
progress in training.
Afterward, Jack showered and shaved, his thoughts
returning to Ensign Maddox. The young man was like so
many others Jack had trained: eager, self-assured, and
indestructible. Jack had been just like him when he was
younger -- still was, when he didn't have to wear the
face of the instructor -- and he mentally chuckled at
the man's enthusiasm.
Another instructor stuck his head around the corner. He
spotted Jack and said, "The Old Man wants to see you."
Jack looked up and nodded. He spent a moment adjusting
his uniform and then headed out. At the commander's
office, he greeted the petty officer behind the desk.
"Go right in, Lieutenant," the man said, "he's expecting
you."
Jack knocked on the door jamb and then half-stepped into
the office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Commander Fitch looked up from his desk and frowned.
"You got your wish, MacLean," he said gruffly. Then he
pointed at a chair. "Sit."
Fitch didn't like to be questioned by junior officers,
so Jack sat silently. Military school and years in the
Navy had hammered into him the ability to "hurry up and
wait." Finally, the commander set aside his paperwork
and looked up.
"I talked to Personnel this morning," he said. "VA-55
needs two pilots and you're one of 'em. I hate losing a
good instructor, but Don Scarlatti needs a new section
leader -- someone with experience."
Jack felt the thrill of anticipation, but controlled it
and merely nodded. He was eager to fly in combat, and
had been quietly bucking for a transfer to a fleet
squadron for months. Now, finally, he was going to get
his chance.
"I was tempted to let him have Lieutenant Claggett,"
Fitch continued, "just because you've been such a burr
under my saddle about a transfer. But I got a wild hair
and decided to be accommodating for a change. I don't
know what came over me, and if you know what's good for
you, Mr. MacLean, you won't speculate."
"No, sir," Jack said as sincerely as he could.
Fitch gave him a hard stare. Then he laughed
humorlessly. "At any rate, you got your shot. Report to
Commander Scarlatti on Friday. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir," Jack said as he stood. At the door,
the commander stopped him with a word, and he turned.
"Bomb some gooks for me," Fitch said.
Jack couldn't help himself, and his lips quirked into a
grin as he nodded.
Without another word, Fitch returned to his paperwork.
Jack had to suppress the urge to whistle.
**
Beth adjusted the temperature on the stove and
automatically rotated the handle of the pot away from
the edge. Then she looked around for her son, Paul. She
spotted him after a moment, playing with his cars under
the kitchen table.
With a sigh, she leaned against the counter and ran her
hands over her belly, big and round. She wasn't nearly
as cumbersome as she'd be in a couple of months, but she
still felt like a Studebaker. As she thought about the
baby, though, she smiled. She just knew it was a girl,
even though she and David had picked out a boy's name as
well.
She looked down and smoothed the apron over her belly
again, smiling at her daughter-to-be. Then she glanced
at the small clock on the stove.
"Paul," she said, "Daddy will be home soon, so let's
pick up your cars."
The boy frowned.
"And then you can help set the table," she said with
feigned excitement. "Okay?"
She made a game of picking up the metal cars, and nodded
seriously as Paul put each of them into the shoebox.
"Now, let's get out the napkins and silverware," she
said, and made a game of setting the table as well. They
had just finished when she heard the front door open.
"Beth!"
Paul raced away at top speed. "Daddy!"
"I got my orders," David called, louder still, in what
Beth privately called his flight-line bellow.
A moment later, she heard him ask Paul, "Where's your
mom, son?"
Beth rounded the corner at a more sedate pace, conscious
of her pregnancy-impaired sense of balance (not to
mention her added bulk). David stood in his khaki
uniform, Paul in his arms. In two strides, he crossed
the small foyer and pulled her against his side,
heedless of her belly. He kissed her forehead and she
inhaled the spicy scent of his aftershave. For a moment,
she thought of her father, who wore the same brand.
"Good news," David said, interrupting her reverie, "I
got my orders today."
"Which squadron?" she asked. After two months in the
Replacement Air Group, David was finished with training,
and was ready to be transferred to a fleet squadron. She
wanted to be near her mother when the baby was born, so
she hoped it would be one of the East Coast squadrons.
"VA-55," David said. "The Warhorses."
She furrowed her brow.
"They're based in California," he said, "at Lemoore."
The US Navy didn't consult wives when it transferred
personnel, and she suppressed a momentary fit of pique.
"The only downside is," David continued, "they're
scheduled to deploy in December."
She felt her heart race. "When in December?"
"The 10th."
"But that's..."
"I know," he said, pulling her closer still, "that's
before the baby's due. But your mother can fly out, and
your brother's already out there."
"But Hank's at Miramar," she said. She thought of the
first time she'd been at Hank's house, when Paul was
born, a month early. "Besides, I don't want another baby
born before I'm ready. And I definitely don't want her
born while you're at sea."
"Don't worry about it, honey," David soothed. "He'll be
born when he's born, and we can't do a thing about it."
"That's easy for you to say," she said. "You don't have
to be pregnant."
He kissed her soundly and then grinned. "And you don't
know how happy that makes me."
She rolled her eyes and pushed him away affectionately.
He grinned, completely unrepentant. A moment later he
caught a whiff coming from the kitchen. "Mmm, dinner
smells good," he said. Then he turned to Paul. "Did you
help your mom today? Were you a good boy?"
Paul nodded, eager for his father's attention.
She watched them for a moment. David seemed genuinely
interested as Paul described the game of setting the
table. For all his eagerness to transfer to a fleet
squadron -- which would take him away from her for
months at a time -- David was a good father, and a
better husband.
Beth knew what a California squadron meant, and
especially what the deployment foretold: WestPac.
Vietnam. A detached part of her knew they'd be shooting
at her husband, and anger mingled with her fear. But she
knew that her support was as important as his eagerness.
She knew they were both acting, too, playing the roles
society expected.
Fear gnawed at her again, but she suppressed it. David
had wanted to fly since before she met him, and she'd
known what to expect when he asked her to marry him.
Still, she couldn't convince herself that it was fair
for her husband to go fight a war when so many others
stayed home. If only he'd been transferred to an East
Coast squadron, with deployments in the Mediterranean...
There's the right way, the wrong way, and the Navy way,
her father had always said. She smiled at the mental
image of his face. He'd been career Navy, and she'd
grown up on a half-dozen different bases, from Guam to
Norfolk. She hadn't liked moving, but the Navy was all
she knew -- it was home.
With a welter of emotions still threatening to overwhelm
her, she forced a smile and looked up at David, so
handsome in his uniform. She had married an officer, and
she was determined to act like an officer's wife. If
that meant sending him off to fight, then she'd do it,
no matter what it cost her in the silence of her heart.
**
Jack returned the salute of the Marine sentry at the
gate and then stepped on the gas, the Corvette's engine
winding out as he shifted through the gears. A few
minutes later he pulled into a parking space at the
squadron operations building and let the engine rumble
at idle. Then he killed it and practically leapt out of
the car.
He straightened his cap and strode toward the building's
entrance. An ensign paused to salute, and Jack's eyes
flicked to the gold wings of another pilot as he snapped
a salute in reply. The junior officer paused
deferentially to let Jack pass, and they entered the
cool dimness of the building a moment later.
"Lieutenant MacLean, here to see Commander Scarlatti,"
Jack said to the female petty officer at the squadron
desk. He smiled at her as he handed over his file
packet.
"He'll be with you in a moment, sir," the young woman
said. "If you'd like to have a seat while you wait," she
added, gesturing to a row of gray metal chairs.
Jack nodded and moved to the seats, his eyes on the
ensign who'd entered behind him. The man was at least
six feet tall, and broad through the shoulders, his dark
hair trimmed short in a flattop. He was also nervous.
"Ensign Hughes," he said, presenting his packet,
"reporting as ordered."
The petty officer nodded. "Yes, sir," she said.
"Commander Scarlatti will be with you in a moment. If
you'd like to have a seat..."
Jack watched the younger man and smiled to himself.
Fresh from the RAG, he thought. Ramrod straight and
nervous about reporting to his first squadron. He
could've been one of my students.
Ensign Hughes smiled at him respectfully and took a seat
one chair away, far enough not to crowd a superior
officer, but not so far away as to give offense. The
younger man dusted away an imaginary piece of lint, but
before Jack could say anything, a booming voice called
from the inner office.
"Joanie? Are my pilots here yet?"
The petty officer rose and stepped to the door, file
packets in hand. "They just arrived, sir," she said.
"Would you like me to...?"
"Get 'em in here," the man in the office said.
Joanie turned and smiled. "He'll see you now, sirs."
Jack rose and preceded the ensign into the office. The
younger man came abreast and braced to attention a
moment before Jack did.
"At ease, gentlemen," Commander Scarlatti said. "Have a
seat."
The ensign waited for Jack to pull up a chair and then
seated himself as well, his back straight.
"Can Joanie get you anything?" the commander asked as he
took the thick brown files from his yeoman. "Coffee?
Soda?"
"No, thank you, sir," Jack said.
The ensign declined and Commander Scarlatti dismissed
the petty officer with a nod and a word of thanks.
"Lieutenant MacLean," Scarlatti mused, glancing at the
top file. "Tex tells me you're a first-rate instructor."
"Thank you, sir," Jack said, smiling to himself as
Commander Scarlatti referred to Commander Fitch by his
call sign, something no junior officer would've done.
"Good," Scarlatti said. "I need a new section leader and
I need one now. I just lost a man to a broken leg, and
another to appendicitis, of all things. We're working up
for a deployment," he continued, "and I don't have time
for this shit."
"No, sir," Jack agreed politely.
Commander Scarlatti reached for the second file and
scanned it quickly. Then his eyes speared the young
ensign. "So you're my nugget..."
Jack stifled a smirk at the ensign's expressionless non-
reaction.
He'd been a nugget himself once, the new guy fresh from
training. He remembered how he'd felt, as if he'd been
in deep water and sinking fast. Seeing the young man's
stoic reaction, he smiled to himself. He knew the look
well.
"Hughes, right?" Scarlatti continued.
"Yes, sir," the ensign said.
"Straight from the East Coast," Scarlatti said, perusing
the file. "Good flight skills... good situational
awareness... but only so-so on the bombing range, I
see."
Hughes didn't say anything.
"We'll cure you of that," Scarlatti said, a bit gentler.
Once again, Hughes remained silent.
Good man, Jack thought. He knows when to shut up and
smile.
Scarlatti swiveled his head. "You were a gunnery and
bombing instructor with VA-125, weren't you, Mr.
MacLean?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Then I'll let you work with Mr. Hughes. The
squadron is scheduled for some time at Yuma before we
deploy, and I want him to hit the bull's-eye every time
he rolls in."
"Aye, aye, sir," Jack said.
Scarlatti glanced pointedly at the young ensign.
"Absolutely, sir," Hughes agreed. "Bull's-eye, every
time."
Jack mentally nodded at the younger pilot's confidence.
The two hadn't exchanged more than perfunctory
greetings, yet Jack already felt a sense of kinship to
the man. Early in his career he'd had his own share of
problems on the bombing range, and had overcome them
through sheer, bullheaded determination.
Scarlatti leaned back in his chair and nodded. Then he
gave Jack a friendly look. "Tex tells me you're married
with children."
"Yes, sir," Jack said. "My wife and I have two boys: one
just turned seven, and one's five and a half."
"You're married too, aren't you, Mr. Hughes?" Scarlatti
said. "Has your wife moved out here yet?"
"Yes, sir," Hughes said. "We're renting a house off-
base."
"Any children?"
"A boy, two and a half," Hughes answered, "and another
on the way."
"Good for you," the commander said. "Have your wife call
my wife, Mary, if she needs anything."
"Thank you, sir," Hughes said.
"The same goes for your wife, Mr. MacLean," Scarlatti
said. "I know you've been out here a couple of years
already, but Mary likes to help out where she can."
"Thank you, sir," Jack said.
Scarlatti stood, and the junior officers followed suit.
Then he walked around the desk. "Welcome to the
squadron, Mr. MacLean."
Jack stepped forward to shake his hand.
"And you too, Mr. Hughes." Another handshake. "I'm happy
to have you both with us."
"Thank you, sir," the two men said at once.
"And now, gentlemen," Scarlatti said, "I need to get
back to the paperwork some damned bureaucrat thinks I
need to be saddled with. Talk to Joanie on the way out;
she'll give you the nickel tour." With a nod and a
dismissive wave, he returned to his desk.
"Jack MacLean," Jack said to the younger man when they
reached the outer office. "Box," he added, using his
callsign, "or Boxman. But most people just call me
Jack." He extended his hand and the ensign shook it.
"David Hughes. Gator."
"Welcome to the Warhorses, sirs," the female petty
officer prompted. "If you'll follow me..."
After the tour, Jack and David stood outside the
building, talking. The Navy attack community wasn't
exactly small, but Jack had been in it long enough that
he knew several instructors David had trained with.
Besides, he'd spent two years stationed at Cecil Field,
where the younger man had transferred from.
"I was in VA-36 before I transferred out here," Jack
said, by way of explanation.
"One of my friends from flight school just transferred
to the Roadrunners," David said.
"It's a good squadron," Jack said. "Who's the CO now?"
"Commander Zielinski."
"Bud Zielinski?" Jack asked. "He was the XO of VA-44
when I was in the RAG." Jack and David talked for
several minutes about shared acquaintances, but when the
younger man shifted nervously, Jack paused. "Is there
someplace you need to be?"
"No, sir," David answered quickly.
"Then what is it?" Jack pressed, gentle but firm.
David darted a quick glance at his watch. "My wife was
supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. She had a
doctor's appointment -- she's seven months pregnant --
and..."
Jack smiled. "C'mon," he said, "I'll give you a lift to
the base hospital. I'm sure your wife just got tied up
with some red tape."
He gestured at his Corvette, and watched with a self-
satisfied look as the younger man ogled it. The car had
been Jack's Christmas present to himself. Nothing
compared to the speed and agility of a Navy attack jet,
but the Corvette was as close as he could get on the
ground.
"So, how are you and your wife settling in?" Jack asked
as they rumbled out of the parking lot.
"Just fine, sir, thank you very much."
"You can dispense with the 'sirs,' David. Call me Jack."
The other man nodded diffidently.
"So, where did you and your wife find a house?" Jack
asked, trying to draw him out.
"On Sycamore Street. About three miles from -- "
"Sycamore? Off Avalon?"
David looked at him in surprise, but then nodded.
"My wife and I live one street over, on Maple. It's a
nice neighborhood."
"We like it so far."
He's still worried about his wife, Jack thought. Then he
stole a glance at his watch. Another three minutes till
we get to the hospital... "So, how'd you end up in the
Navy?" he asked.
"My father was a Master Chief," David said, "an airplane
mechanic. And the Navy seemed like the thing to do.
Besides, ROTC was the only way I could afford to go to
college, so..."
Jack nodded. His own father had been a civilian -- a
wealthy civilian at that, he reflected -- who'd made his
money the old- fashioned way: he inherited it. In spite
of his upbringing, Jack had worked hard for all he'd
achieved, first at the Citadel, and later in the Navy.
Public service was a tradition in his family, if not
exactly military service, and he knew his duty to his
country.
David seemed to be cut from the same cloth, and Jack
found himself warming to the younger man. But he was
obviously nervous about his pregnant wife, so Jack
gunned the engine around the final turn as the hospital
came into view.
"Thank you very much, sir," David said, unconsciously
reverting to military formality.
"I'll go with you," Jack said as they pulled into a
parking space. "I know the hospital layout. It'll save
you some time."
They got out of the car and David looked around. Then
his eyes locked on a woman just coming from the
building. "There she is now, sir," he said.
Jack turned to follow the younger man's eyes. He quickly
spotted the blonde woman, round with pregnancy, with a
young boy in tow. Then he recoiled in surprise, a rush
of familiarity washing over him.
She could be Susan's sister, he thought, picturing his
own wife. But then he brushed off the similarities.
Still... he thought. He glanced at David's wife a second
time, and had to fight not to stare.
"Beth!" David called, starting toward her.
**
Beth looked up at the sound of her name. She was already
running late, and it took her a moment to realize that
one of the two men walking toward her had called out.
With the sun behind them, it took her another moment to
recognize David. She didn't know the other man.
I don't know anyone on base, she thought with a familiar
stab of frustration.
During the course of David's training, they had moved
several times, and she'd had to meet new people and make
new friends at each base. Each was a test of her social
graces, and she'd always been amazed when she survived
with more aplomb than she thought she had in her. Once
again, she pasted on her "meeting new people" smile and
scooped Paul into her arms.
"The Lieutenant was nice enough to give me a lift,"
David said to her as he drew near. Then, thankfully, he
took Paul from her. "Is everything okay?" he asked.
"When you were late, I -- "
"Everything's fine," she assured him. "We just had to
wait, that's all." Her spirits lifted in silent
amusement as David remembered his manners and gestured
to the man next to him.
"Honey, this is Lieutenant MacLean."
"Jack," the man said, extending his hand.
Beth shook it. He was a handsome man, a little shorter
than David, but with the same preternatural confidence.
His hair was dark, although lighter than David's almost-
black, and he had a friendly, open smile. Something in
his blue eyes made her own smile turn genuine.
"I won't keep you," he said. "I'm sure you're ready to
get off your feet..."
As if on cue, Beth felt the baby kick, and she put her
hand to her back to steady herself.
"...so I'll be quick. My wife and I would like to invite
you to dinner. You know, sort of welcome to the
neighborhood."
"Jack and his wife live one street over," David
explained.
"I'll ask Susan to give you a call this evening," Jack
said, "after you've had a chance to get home and
relax... as much as you can relax with a two-year-old
running around the house," he added.
Beth smiled, her opinion of him growing.
"Why don't you come over tomorrow, around eighteen
hundred," he said to David. "We have a color television,
and I can throw some steaks on the grill. How's that
sound?"
When David looked a question at her, Beth smiled
gratefully. Her pots and pans were still packed, in
boxes deceptively labeled "Kitchen," stacked by the
movers in a haphazard pile. Her silverware had made it
into a box labeled "Living Room," and she'd only
discovered it by accident.
And since TV dinners are not the way my mother raised me
to feed my family... she thought archly. "That's very
nice, thank you," she said aloud, in answer to David's
unvoiced question.
David turned to Jack and nodded. "Thank you, sir. We'll
be there."
**
Beth let David get Paul from the back seat as she
awkwardly climbed out of the car, a casserole dish in
hand. After two hours of digging through boxes
containing everything from spices to family photos,
she'd managed to locate enough of her cookware to make
green bean casserole.
Once she steadied herself on the walk, she looked at the
MacLeans' house. It had a well-manicured lawn, with a
sea of gold and orange mums planted in pots by the front
door. When David rang the doorbell, Beth felt herself
tense up. She relaxed when a dark-haired woman opened
the door and smiled, warm and inviting.
"You must be David and Beth," the woman said. Then she
bent down and fixed Paul with a sparkling blue eye. "And
you must be Paul."
Beth put her hand on the back of Paul's head and stroked
his hair. "What do you say, Paul? Yes, ma'am?"
"Yes, ma'am," he repeated dutifully.
"I'm Susan," the woman said, still at his level.
"Pleased to meet you." She gifted him with another smile
and then straightened. With a gracious gesture, she
invited them into her house. "Jack's in the back with
the grill," she said to David.
"Um... thank you," he said.
Beth extended the casserole dish. "I know Jack said we
didn't need to bring anything, but..." She felt a wave
of relief when Susan smiled in understanding.
"Men simply don't understand how much work is involved
in fixing dinner," she said, a smile in her eye as she
glanced at David. "So it's a good thing they have us to
look after them, isn't it?"
Beth's answering smile was genuine -- as genuine as
David's abashed expression. They'd argued over whether
or not to bring the casserole. He'd insisted that it
would be an insult to Jack, a superior officer. But she
had steadfastly refused to go to another woman's house
empty-handed.
"Can I get you a beer, David?" Susan asked as she
ushered them toward the kitchen.
Before he could answer, two boys raced into the house
from the backyard.
"Mom," the oldest shouted, "Dad says he's ready for the
steaks."
"Kirk, use your inside voice," Susan said.
Beth smiled as the second boy merely blinked and pulled
back a bit, startled by the presence of strangers.
"Kirk, Doug," Susan said, "I'd like you to meet Mr. and
Mrs.
Hughes, and their son Paul."
"Pleased to meet you, sir," Kirk said formally, stepping
forward.
Beth hid a grin as David shook the boy's hand with equal
gravity. The younger boy followed suit, but seemed shier
than his brother.
"Boys," Susan said, "why don't you show Paul your toys?"
The younger of the two simply raced back outside.
Susan blinked in surprise and covered her embarrassment
with a diffident smile.
"I'll do it," Kirk said. Then he extended his hand to
Paul, and Beth watched the two of them disappear down
the hall.
"Honey?!" Jack called from outside. "Kirk?!"
"Just a minute, Jack," Susan called back. When she
reached for a platter of thick steaks, David stepped
forward.
"I'll get those," he said, and headed out the back door.
Susan's eyebrows lifted, as if to say "Oh, my."
For a moment, silence descended upon the two women, and
Beth fought not to fidget. Her brief phone conversation
with Susan had been cordial, but had hardly left her
with a sense of the woman herself.
Meeting other wives was always a mixed experience, and
Beth never knew how to react. Some women were stiff and
formal, conscious of their position as officers' wives.
Others were friendly and supportive, all-too-familiar
with the hardships of life at the whim of the US Navy.
"Can I get you a Coke?" Susan asked at last.
"Yes, thank you."
Susan paused for a moment and then laughed.
Beth felt her breath catch, and she wondered if she'd
misjudged the other woman.
"You know," Susan mused aloud, "they call it soda out
here. I never have gotten used to that. Back home, it's
Coke. Whether you want Coca-Cola, Royal Crown, or
anything else, you just call it 'Coke.' Have you ever
noticed that?"
Beth nodded, her nervousness turning to amusement.
"You don't sound like you're from around here," Susan
explained, opening the bottles with a church key, "so I
guess I just slipped into an old habit." She turned with
a smile and extended the bottle. "So, where are you all
from?"
"Florida," Beth said. Then her eyes widened as she
recognized the familiar twang in the other woman's
voice. Definitely not a flat California accent, she
thought. "Where are you and Jack from?"
"South Carolina," Susan said, affecting a stronger
drawl. "Ain't that a-mazin'?"
Beth smiled at the other woman's disarming laugh. Not
stiff and formal at all, she thought with an almost
palpable wave of relief.
"Now, how did two shining examples of Southern gentility
end up in a place like this?" Susan asked, her lips
quirked up in a smile.
Beth had met enough pilots' wives that she'd become a
quick judge of character, and she decided that she liked
Susan MacLean. She liked her a lot. Not only was she a
gracious hostess, but she had a dry sense of humor. And
with a secret inner smile, Beth relaxed as she watched
David and Jack together, talking like long-lost friends.
At dinner, the steaks were juicy and delicious, and Jack
had two helpings of her casserole. Susan asked for the
recipe, although Beth was certain that the other woman
could make green bean casserole in her sleep. The men
talked about flying, while she and Susan carried on a
conversation about their adventures with military moves.
At eight o'clock, Susan put her sons to bed, and David
moved the sleeping Paul to Jack and Susan's bed. Then
the couples adjourned to the living room.
"You must be exhausted," Susan said to Beth.
Beth smiled politely, determined not to show how tired
she really was. She was enjoying herself, and the
anxiety of a new place had vanished entirely.
"Here," Susan added, "let me get a pillow to put behind
your back. When I was pregnant with Doug, I couldn't
find a comfortable position to save my life."
Jack and David shared a knowing look, and Beth made a
show of grimacing at them.
"You think we're kidding?" Susan asked rhetorically.
"You try getting pregnant sometime."
"Not me, babe," Jack said.
Beth settled into a comfortable position and silently
thanked the other woman for her attention. After her
harrowing day with the movers' uninformative box labels,
and then the argument over the casserole, she was ready
for a break.
Around her, the conversation ranged far and wide,
although she was content to merely listen. But when
Susan began talking about her father -- an industrialist
turned resort owner -- Beth sat forward.
"Like a vacation resort?" she asked, speaking for the
first time in many minutes. The other couple shared a
discreet look, which she thought odd.
"Yes," Susan said without pausing. "I grew up on a
large... well... I guess you'd call it a plantation. We
didn't exactly have a manor house, but we had fields and
forests, lakes and streams."
"Wow," David said. "That must've been nice."
Susan smiled. "It was. It was kind of isolated, but I
love the area. Have you ever been to South Carolina?"
David shook his head.
"My family drove through it on the way to Virginia
once," Beth said. "But other than that..." She shrugged.
"Did you live there all your life? Until Jack joined the
Navy, I mean."
"Mmm hmm," Susan said. "Jack grew up in Charleston, and
I'm from a little town called York."
"So, how did you two meet?" Beth asked.
Susan grinned at her husband.
"In Charleston," Jack said, a flash of mischief in his
eye.
"Oh?" Beth said.
Susan smiled and set her hand atop Jack's.
Beth felt a rush of affection for David and did the
same. When he looked at her, she smiled and gently
squeezed his hand.
"I was a student at the College of Charleston," Susan
explained, "and Jack was a cadet at the Citadel. He kept
asking me out, but I wouldn't have anything to do with
him."
"So you were playing hard to get?" Beth said, warming to
the tale.
"At first, no. I had a boyfriend at home, and I wasn't
looking for anyone else. But Jack eventually wore me
down, and I said yes."
Jack smirked.
"We went to a Christmas dance," Susan continued. "A
military dance. My father made uniforms during the war,
but that was the closest I ever got to the military."
"Little did she know what she was in for," Jack said
roguishly.
Beth glanced sidelong at David, who grinned.
"Can you blame a girl for enjoying all that attention?"
Susan asked, disingenuous and wry.
"Absolutely not, dear," Jack said. Then he turned to his
guests. "She discovered that she liked all that pomp and
circumstance."
"And one thing led to another?" Beth asked.
"One thing led to the back seat of my car," Jack said,
his grin a leer.
"Jack!" Susan mock-scolded.
Beth and David shared a grin.
"Yes," Susan said, "one thing led to another." Then she
rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. After a moment
she politely turned to Beth. "How did you two meet?"
Beth felt her face heat at the memory.
David spoke up when she hesitated. "Beth's brother,
Hank, was my ROTC mentor in college. And when he brought
me home for dinner, Beth was wearing this blue dress..."
He trailed off, his expression dramatic and rapturous.
"Oh, stop it," Beth said. "It wasn't that tight."
"It wasn't how tight it was," David said. "It was that
the strap kept falling down, and I was hoping I'd see
more than your shoulder."
At that, the couples laughed.
"Men," Susan said, looking at Beth.
Beth rolled her eyes and nodded, her face still flushed
at the memory of that first night with her then-future
husband. As she thought about all the nights since, she
felt her face heat even more. When she finally mastered
her emotions, she glanced up. Susan merely arched an
eyebrow and smiled.
The evening eventually wound down, and the couples said
their goodbyes. David carried a sleeping Paul to the car
and gently set him on the back seat. Beth was beyond
exhausted, but she had enjoyed herself.
"It was lovely meeting you," she said to Susan.
"It was a pleasure meeting you too," Susan replied.
"Call me tomorrow and I'll come over to help you
unpack."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Beth demurred.
"Nonsense," Susan said. "I'd be glad to help. Besides,
it'll keep me off the streets." She and Jack shared a
smile.
Beth acquiesced.
"We had a lovely evening," Susan continued as David
rejoined them, the car idling in the driveway. "Thank
you very much for coming. And thank you for the
casserole. It was delicious."
After their final goodbyes, David helped her to the car,
where she looked into the back to make sure Paul was
still asleep. He was, and she slid into front seat as
David walked around to the driver's side.
"I like Jack," he said as they drove home.
"Mmm hmm. I like Susan, too," Beth said. "They're a nice
couple."
"You were right about the casserole," David said at
last. "Sorry." He paused. "I know I don't say this often
enough," he began hesitantly, "but I love you."
She felt a rush of warmth. "I love you too."
"And I know it's been hard on you, moving to California
and all. But this is what I do."
"I knew what it would be like when you asked me to marry
you," she said softly. "And I wouldn't trade it for the
world."
He smiled at her, once again the bashful young man she'd
fallen in love with years before.
**
Jack turned off the porch light.
"I like Beth," Susan said.
He smiled and pulled her close. He reached around her
middle and felt her soft stomach beneath her dress.
"I like David too," she said.
"I'll bet you do," he said, his hips pressed against her
from behind. He felt his dick stir, and raised his hands
to cup her breasts.
"Is that all you ever think about?" she said.
He facetiously paused. "Yep, pretty much."
"You're terrible!"
In spite of her protests, he felt her press back against
him. She sighed when he released her breasts, but then
practically purred as he reached for the zipper at the
back of her dress. He lowered it with a hiss, revealing
the smooth expanse of her back, broken only by her bra.
With a practiced twist, he popped the catch.
"And what exactly do you have in mind?" she asked, a
smile in her voice. "As if I didn't already know."
Without answering, he put his hands on her shoulder
blades, his fingers worming under her bra straps as he
pushed them and the dress over her shoulders. She pulled
her arms free, and the bra fell to the floor as the
dress gathered around her waist. He cupped her breasts,
testing their weight. As he did, he pressed his lips to
her ear and kissed it.
"So you like David?" he asked softly, suggestively. "Do
you think they could be the right couple?"
She half-turned in his arms and glanced back at him.
Susan's parents didn't own a normal vacation resort --
it was a nudist resort, which Jack had learned shortly
before he took her home for the first time. He wasn't a
prude -- far from it -- but he'd still been shocked. He
was also surprised when he met her parents in person.
His own parents had been hopelessly straitlaced, but
Susan's were nothing of the sort.
Douglas and Marilyn York were a liberal, tolerant
couple, and they hadn't even batted an eye when their
daughter arrived with a much older boyfriend. Instead,
they welcomed him into their home and made him part of
the family.
They were very affectionate with each other, too, and
shared a youthful vigor that he'd rarely seen in a
couple their age. Several years later, after Marilyn's
death, Susan told him about her parents' real
relationship: they were swingers.
Jack knew that he was fairly liberated, even for the
times, but the Fifties had been far more prudish than
the Sixties. Yet Susan's parents had created an enclave
of freedom in the South Carolina Piedmont -- freedom
from clothes, certainly, but also from other people's
expectations and narrow-minded sexual mores. Not
surprisingly, they didn't share society's oppressive
need for conformity, either.
When Jack learned that the Yorks were swingers, he was
stunned. He thought he'd hidden it well, but Susan had
sensed his knee- jerk disapproval. To his credit -- and
probably for the first time in his life -- he'd
questioned his own upbringing, his infallible sense of
right and wrong.
Why was it "wrong" to have sex with other couples?
Susan's parents obviously loved each other; they
certainly had a more open and loving relationship than
his own parents had.
Jack's parents had been dead for three years, but he
still remembered their stiff formality around each
other, as if showing any affection would upset their
well-ordered existence.
Susan's parents were different, but he was still
surprised when he learned that they didn't maintain any
pretense of sexual monogamy. Fidelity -- loyalty -- was
a cornerstone of Jack's existence, and he wondered how a
marriage could survive without it. But the Yorks' had.
Not only had it survived, it had flourished.
Deep inside, Jack wanted the same kind of relationship
with Susan. She'd gotten pregnant while they were still
dating, and he'd done the honorable thing. He knew the
difference between love and lust, and he definitely
loved her. He asked her to marry him, but he hadn't been
ready to settle down, and a part of him still wanted to
sow his wild oats. He'd never given in to temptation,
but he fought a constant inner battle with it.
Unfortunately, he couldn't stop thinking about the
Yorks' swinging lifestyle, and he constantly fantasized
about having sex with other women. Worse still, some of
his most powerful fantasies involved watching Susan have
sex with someone else.
Was he a bad husband? Was he a pervert? Could he
actually watch his wife have sex with another man? Would
she let him have sex with another woman? If they did it,
would their marriage survive?
He'd thought about those questions a dozen times --
more! -- and every time, his thoughts returned to the
Yorks. He'd seen with his own eyes how strong their
relationship had been, without jealousy or resentment.
He wanted that kind of relationship with Susan. He
thought he had it already, but a niggling part of his
brain (and his loins, he reluctantly admitted) wanted to
expand their relationship.
He was happy with his sex life -- more than happy -- but
he still wanted to have sex with other women. And the
thought of another man having sex with his wife was a
powerful image -- nearly as powerful as the rush he felt
when the catapult kicked him in the seat of the pants,
launching his plane down the carrier's deck.
More powerful, he admitted silently. But will I be
jealous? And more importantly, will she trust me with
another woman?
It had taken him a while, but when he finally sorted
through his conflicting emotions, he talked to Susan.
They'd never kept things from each other, so he told her
about his desires. Far from being outraged, she'd been
understanding. Even enthusiastic. It was carefully
subdued enthusiasm, but he still knew her reactions.
At first, they simply talked about it. Susan explained
that they needed to find a couple who had a strong,
healthy relationship, and who wouldn't let jealousy or
suspicion ruin marriages, friendships, or both. They
talked about what kind of women Jack was attracted to,
and the men Susan found attractive. They talked and
talked, about trust and communication, resentment and
doubt, and more.
In retrospect, Jack realized that most of their
conversations had been a test. He knew himself well
enough to realize that he could have been rationalizing
his answers in order to get what he wanted. Did he
simply want a little nookie on the side? And perhaps to
watch his wife have sex with another man, purely to fuel
his own fantasies? Or was he genuinely interested in
expanding their relationship?
A side benefit of their conversations was the fantastic
sex they had afterward. With the boys safely in bed, he
and Susan had had sex in every room of the house -- and
even outside on the patio, with the cool night air
bathing their sweaty bodies as they screwed each other
silly.
Finally, they had come to a mutual decision: their
marriage could survive -- would survive -- as long as
they were honest with each other. They agreed to stop
everything if either of them felt the least jealousy or
suspicion. Their relationship with each other was more
important than sex with other people. So, with barely
concealed enthusiasm, they began looking for the right
couple.
Fortunately, their closest friends usually had
relationships like their own. Unfortunately, none of
them fit the bill in every way. Something always dashed
their hopes: Jack wasn't attracted to the wife, or Susan
wasn't attracted to the husband, or the couple wasn't
open-minded enough, or they weren't discreet enough, or
any of a dozen other objections.
Even with the liberation of the Sixties, the military
was as straitlaced as ever. Pilots were perhaps the
wildest of the bunch, but they were tame compared to
what Jack and Susan were looking for. Worse, what they
wanted to do was technically illegal. Adultery was a
punishable offense under the Uniform Code of Military
Justice; Jack could be court-martialed for having sex
with another man's wife. And since most of their friends
were military, the risk would extend to the other man as
well.
Jack had always had a healthy respect for the law --
except the speed limit, he thought wryly -- but he was a
firm believer that what a man and woman did in their own
bedroom was none of the military's business. Still,
they'd have to be doubly careful if they didn't want to
jeopardize his military career. And while he might think
David and Beth were the right couple, he wasn't going to
rush into anything.
He was definitely attracted to Beth, full belly or not.
She had the same deep blue eyes as Susan, as well as the
same gestures when she talked. They also shared the same
curves, not to mention their round, full breasts. Beth
was big with pregnancy, but she hadn't grown heavy, the
way some women did. He could still make out the sexy
lines of her body, despite the maternity clothes.
And David was Susan's type -- broad-shouldered and
muscular, without being bulky. He also had the same
self-confidence that Jack had, which had drawn Susan to
him in the first place.
Even better, David and Beth seemed genuinely open-
minded, and hadn't recoiled when the after-dinner
conversation turned a little risque. As Jack ran through
the possibilities in his mind, he none-too-patiently
awaited his wife's opinion.
"They could be," Susan said cautiously.
"David's definitely your type," he said.
"And Beth's yours," she shot back. "Or, she would be, if
she wasn't seven months pregnant."
"Pregnant women are sexy too," he said.
Before she could reply, he planted a line of kisses down
her neck and slowly ground his hips against her ass, his
erection straining at his zipper. Then he moved his
hands down her stomach and slid them under her panties.
She rocked her hips to help him get the elastic over
them. Then she pushed them down her thighs to join the
dress already pooled at her feet.
"I bet you'd like to suck David, wouldn't you?" he said
softly, one hand delving between her legs to test the
heat and moisture of her arousal.
She gasped softly as his fingers parted her pubic hair
and brushed her hooded clit.
He rubbed gently, spreading her nascent moisture over
her lips. They slid apart at his touch and he dipped his
finger into her, coating it with her juices.
"I'd like to suck you," she said, breathless with
arousal.
"But what about the Hugheses?" he pressed, half-teasing,
half- serious.
"We barely know them," she said. She reached back and
ran her fingers over his crotch. "And I know your dick
very well. But it's been several hours..."
Jack wasn't going to give up that easily. "I want to
watch you fuck David," he said. "And Beth's like a
blonde version of you. What could be better?"
"What could be better?" she teased in reply, distracted
by his fingers on her clit. "Well, I'll tell you..." She
composed herself. "Better would be waiting for her to
actually give birth. Pregnant women may be sexy, but
they're also ungainly. On the other hand, I'm not
ungainly." She squirmed out of his grasp, turned, and
sank to her knees. "And David might be a nice guy," she
said, reaching for Jack's belt buckle, "but he's not
here, and I'm not planning to suck him tonight."
Jack knew when he was defeated -- for the time being --
so he simply grinned down at her as she concentrated on
freeing his hard-on.
"I want to suck you," she said, lowering his pants and
underwear at the same time, his dick springing free.
"Now," she said, a cross between humor and pique, "if
you don't mind..."
With that, she engulfed him, her lips closing around his
shaft, just past the crown.
He watched for a moment as she concentrated on sucking
him, her tongue working its magic against the underside
of his glans. Then he ran his fingers through her hair,
holding her head as she tongued the underside of his
dick.
She put her hands on his hips to guide his pace as he
began thrusting, his shaft shiny with her saliva.
As he sank his cock into her mouth, he closed his eyes
and groaned softly. Unbidden, an image of a blonde woman
sprang to mind, with bright blue eyes, her lips wrapped
around his shaft. He shuddered at the thought, his hands
gripping his wife's head as if to steady himself.
Instead, he shook off the fantasy, opened his eyes, and
swallowed hard.
Susan was bobbing her head back and forth, her lips open
to receive him and then tight around his shaft as he
slowly withdrew it. They moved in sync, her hands gently
pressing against his hips when he thrust too far and
threatened to make her gag. Finally, she pulled back,
his dick slipping free of her lips.
"There," she said softly, "that's better." She kissed
the tip of his dick, the sound wet and soft in the quiet
house. "We can talk about Beth and David some other
time." She kissed him again, her lips open as she ran
them along the underside of his shaft. For a moment, she
nuzzled his balls, her breath warm on the base of his
shaft. "In the meantime," she continued, "the only thing
we need to talk about is where you want to put your dick
next."
"I was thinking about your pussy," he said, trying not
to groan as she tongued his balls, her mouth hot and
wet.
"Not yet."
He arched an eyebrow and glanced down at her, just in
time to see her close her eyes and run her lips along
the length of his cock. When she reached the tip, she
gently planted kisses on it, her cool fingers holding
him steady.
"I want to enjoy myself a little longer," she said, her
voice husky with desire.
With a roguish grin, he resigned himself to being her
pacifier.
Susan loved sucking his dick, and she could do it for
what seemed like hours on end. Even better, she had a
way of gripping the base whenever he was in danger of
coming. It postponed his climax, but heightened the
pleasure, and when he did finally come, his orgasm was
usually mind-blowing.
Besides, he reflected with a low chuckle, sucking me off
makes her horny as hell. She'll be wet and ready when I
fuck her.
She slowly fellated him, her lips and tongue working him
to the brink of orgasm several times. Each time, she
pulled back, squeezing the base of his shaft until the
urgency passed.
Finally, he pulled her to her feet and unceremoniously
bent her over the couch. Her round ass invited him
forward, and his erection probed the heat and moisture
between her legs. She groaned as his shaft slid along
her slit, her damp pubic hair parting before its
advance. He pulled back and angled his hips, the tip of
his dick at her opening. Then, with a steady thrust, he
entered her.
She wasn't as tight as the seventeen-year-old girl she'd
been when they first met, but he wasn't about to
complain. After two children, she had filled out, her
hips flaring into the curves of womanhood.
Her breasts were bigger too, he thought, reaching for
them. She moaned softly as his fingers gently kneaded
them. When his hips met her ass, she moaned again, her
pussy hot and smooth around his invading shaft.
He bent over her back and kissed her shoulder, his own
breath hot in his face as he kissed her again, his lips
moving to the nape of her neck. She shuddered when he
reached it, her body writhing at the combination of his
lips and his dick. He added his fingers to the mix,
gently rolling her nipples between them.
After several drawn-out moments he began rocking his
hips, his shaft moving within her, teasing her with
short thrusts. She whimpered insistently, her back
arching as the sensations assaulted her. His own need
eventually drove him to stop teasing her.
He straightened and reached for her hips. He began
pumping into her, filling her with each thrust. She
cried out softly, the sound mingling with the slaps as
his hips met her ass.
I shouldn't've let her suck me so long, he thought with
a combination of amusement and irritation. She got me
all worked up, and now... I... won't... last... long.
With a grunt, he buried himself inside her, his balls
drawn tight with the first twinges of orgasm. The
sensation built for a moment and then exploded,
radiating outward like a nova. He closed his eyes, his
back arched and his butt clenched in ecstasy.
One spurt filled her, followed immediately by a stronger
one. Blazing pleasure raced along his nerves as the
spurts died to gushes, and then finally to a thrumming
sense of exhaustion and release.
He collapsed over her back, panting, the smell of their
sex filling his nostrils. She sighed beneath him, and it
took him a moment to realize that his weight was full on
her. He pushed up, but she merely shook her head.
"You're fine," she said softly, languidly, as if reading
his mind.
He smiled and leaned forward again, kissing the nape of
her neck, tasting the saltiness of her body. Then, with
a surge of guilt, he realized that she hadn't come yet.
He pushed himself up yet again, but she shook her head.
"I'm fine," she said.
He looked a question at her, but her eyes were still
closed.
"Really," she insisted softly. "I'm fine. I just want to
lie here like this. Is that okay?"
Instead of answering aloud, he wrapped his arms around
her, his chest pressed against her back, his dick slowly
softening within her.
"I love you," she said softly.
"I love you too."
After several minutes of companionable silence, he felt
her smile. He couldn't tell how, but he knew she was.
"You might be right," she said softly.
"About what?"
"About Beth and David," she said, picking up the thread
of their earlier conversation. "I think we need to get
to know them better."
CHAPTER TWO
Beth used the back of her hand to brush an errant strand
of hair from her face. The hair fell again and she tried
to blow it back into place, without success. She'd just
returned her attention to the kitchen floor, hair be
damned, when the phone rang. She stifled a grunt as she
slowly climbed to her feet, and answered the phone on
the sixth ring.
"Beth, hi. It's Susan."
Beth smiled. "Oh, hi, Susan."
"Are you busy?"
"No, not at all," she lied. In reality, she'd been
cleaning. With David at work and Paul taking a nap, she
finally had time to do some housework. "Why?"
"I thought I'd come over and give you a hand around the
house."
Beth paused for a moment. Susan had been a godsend with
the unpacking, but Beth didn't want to impose on her
generosity. Besides, she'd known women whose offers to
"help around the house" had been nothing more than
thinly disguised snooping. She didn't think Susan was
like that, but she automatically guarded her family's
privacy.
"The boys just got home from school," Susan continued,
"but they have a birthday party to go to, so I thought
I'd come over and give you a hand."
"Thank you very much," Beth demurred, "but you don't
have to..." Secretly, however, she longed for the help.
Paul was a handful when he was awake, and Beth rarely
had the energy to keep up with him, much less do all the
other things that kept her house running smoothly.
"Nonsense. I'll be there in ten minutes."
Susan arrived with a friendly smile and an air of
energy.
"Paul's still asleep," Beth said, gesturing the other
woman into her home. When Susan looked at the living
room and nodded appreciatively, Beth felt a rush of
pride. "I was cleaning the kitchen floor when you
called," she added, by way of explanation for her
frazzled appearance.
"Have you cleaned the bathrooms yet?" Susan asked.
"Not yet. I was going to do them next."
Susan smiled, a mixture of sympathy and reproach. "You
shouldn't be on your hands and knees, and you know it.
Where's your mop?" she asked, rolling up her sleeves.
"And a bucket and some ammonia? You can clean the
mirrors while I do the dirty work."
An hour later, Beth decided that Susan wasn't nosey at
all. Even better, she didn't gossip. Beth had known too
many officers' wives who seemed to thrive on rumors and
scandal. She wasn't like that herself, and she didn't
want to spend time with a woman who was (her good
manners would eventually wear thin, and her face would
hurt from an insincere smile).
Although the two women didn't gossip, they did share
their impressions of what little they knew about the
other pilots' wives. Beth was a little surprised that
their opinions were so similar.
At first, she thought Susan might be agreeing with her
just to be polite. But as they worked and chatted, she
decided that Susan simply had a keen insight. At the
thought, she smiled guiltily, since she didn't like what
that said about her lofty opinion of her own insight.
"What were you just thinking?" Susan asked suddenly.
Beth looked up and tried to cover her embarrassment with
a smile. "Hmm?"
Susan's blue eyes twinkled. "You looked like you'd just
been caught patting yourself on the back."
"Was I that obvious?"
"Not really. I just know how I look when I start feeling
too proud of myself." She smiled guiltily. "So I guess I
assumed... you know." Another smile, this one wry:
"Aren't we just two peas in a pod?"
Beth felt her eyes crinkle with an answering smile.
"We're horrible, self-centered women, aren't we?" Susan
said.
"Horrible," Beth echoed, still grinning.
Both of them looked up at a sound from Paul's bedroom,
and Beth's smile turned weary.
"I know the feeling," Susan said. Then she brightened.
"You get Paul while I put away the cleaning supplies."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Beth said. "You've
already done more than enough."
"Go."
"Are you sure?"
Susan made an insistent shooing gesture, punctuating it
with a smile. "Do you drink coffee?"
Beth shook her head as she walked down the hallway. "But
you know where the percolator is," she said over her
shoulder, "so feel free to make a pot." When she
returned to the living room with Paul, she found Susan
sitting quietly with two cups.
"I'm not much of a coffee drinker myself," Susan said,
"so I made us some hot chocolate instead. I hope you
don't mind."
Beth set Paul down and he immediately headed toward his
wooden blocks. "That sounds wonderful," she said,
sinking into the chair as Susan pushed a cup toward her.
"Absolutely wonderful."
"I love your backyard," Susan said after a companionable
lull in the conversation.
Beth lifted her eyebrows in question.
"We have a fence around our yard," Susan explained, "but
we don't really have any privacy."
Beth glanced out the sliding glass door and shook her
head, puzzled. Her backyard was like any other: a chain-
link fence surrounding a rectangle of grass with a few
trees.
"I should've said I love your patio," Susan explained,
reading Beth's confusion.
The patio itself was nothing special. It had a waist-
high block wall around it, with boxwoods surrounding
that. Neither the wall nor the bushes would even provide
shade, though.
"You can sunbathe in privacy," Susan said at last.
"Ah... oh! Now I understand."
"I like to lie out topless..." Susan added, her voice
trailing off.
Beth thought she detected a deliberately nonchalant note
in the other woman's tone, so she glanced up.
Susan merely gazed back with calm equanimity. Then she
smiled and took a sip of her cocoa. "Your patio wall
should give you some privacy," she said, "if you like to
sunbathe topless, that is..."
Beth was certain of the nonchalant tone, so she
carefully schooled her expression. She did like to lie
out topless -- and sometimes more than topless -- but it
wasn't something she talked about very often. Still, she
didn't detect anything more than leading curiosity in
the other woman's tone -- not even a hint of disapproval
-- so she nodded and smiled politely, content to see
where the conversation went.
"It's a moot point now," Susan said, "but when the
weather warms up next spring..."
"You're welcome to come over and sunbathe here, if you'd
like," Beth said, taking the cue and making the offer
without the slightest reservation. She decided that
Susan was being polite enough to avoid imposing herself
on another woman, but not deliberately deceptive.
"I'd like that, thank you," she said, smiling
graciously. "I think you'll like it out here -- the
weather is wonderful... not too hot, not too cold."
Beth smiled and nodded.
"I used to sunbathe all the time when I was a girl,"
Susan said.
"Did you have someplace private at your father's
resort?" Beth asked. She hid a puzzled frown as Susan's
eyes sparkled at some unknown joke. For a moment, Beth
got the impression that the other woman was sizing her
up, considering whether or not to let her in on a
secret.
"I used to sunbathe nude," Susan said at last. When Beth
merely smiled -- instead of reacting with shock -- she
continued. "I love feeling the sun on my skin. That's
one of the only things I don't like about living out
here... no privacy. I grew up with thousands of acres to
explore, and if I wanted to do it in the buff, no one
bothered me."
Beth heard a hint of amusement in the other woman's
voice, but she wrote it off as a reaction to the
conflicting attitudes in California.
"So when I saw your backyard," Susan continued, "my
heart leapt at the chance to get a good tan. I'm ashamed
to say that I might've railroaded you into inviting me."
"Absolutely not," Beth said quickly. Then she smiled her
own guilty smile, albeit for a different reason. At the
mention of nude sunbathing, her eyes unconsciously
roamed over the other woman's body, so much like her
own. So much like I used to be, she thought with a trace
of bitterness. Pregnancy had changed her, and she didn't
like the way her body looked. She shook off the thought
and smiled to cover her unhappiness.
"You didn't railroad me at all," she said at last. "As a
matter of fact, I like to sunbathe nude too...
sometimes." When Susan smiled a knowing smile, Beth
found herself wondering how much the other woman had
already suspected.
"The only problem," Susan added with a smile, "is that
it gets sunny here a little before it actually gets
warm, so I have to be careful not to freeze sensitive
body parts!"
They shared an honest, uncomplicated laugh.
"I'm sure the guys wouldn't mind," Susan added with a
wry grin, "but cold nipples are not my idea of
foreplay."
"Mine either," Beth said, shaking with mirth. All of a
sudden, she felt the baby kick, and she put her hand to
her belly.
"Is she moving?" Susan asked.
Beth nodded.
Without asking, Susan leaned forward and put her hand on
Beth's protruding belly.
Beth was surprised, but her touch was reassuring and
gentle.
"I used to sit up at night when I was pregnant with
Doug," Susan said softly, almost wistfully, "drinking
tea and reading. He was a night-owl, and sometimes kept
me up half the night." Her eyes were far away,
remembering. "The only thing that calmed him down was
music."
Beth looked a question at the dark-haired woman.
She smiled. "Glen Miller. My mother loved him, and she
lent me her record collection. Jack bought me this big,
awkward set of headphones, and I'd put them against my
belly, with the volume turned down low. Doug would go
right to sleep, every time." She smiled again at the
memory. Then she chuckled, throaty and warm. "I must've
been a ridiculous sight... sitting on the couch in my
robe, my slippered feet tucked beneath me, a book in one
hand, and a great, huge pair of headphones against my
tummy."
Beth laughed softly at the image, but she felt an
instant affection for the other woman.
Susan smiled again, her eyes glistening. "I still have
her records," she said softly. "She never got them back
after Doug was born. And after she died, my dad..." She
swallowed hard and forced a smile.
"How did she die?" Beth asked quietly.
"Hmm? Oh... a stroke. It was just her time, I guess."
"That must've been hard," Beth said, and immediately
regretted it. Of course it had been hard, losing her
mother.
"It was." Susan paused, her eyes unfocussed. "It still
is. I miss her every day."
As the silence drew out, Beth fought not to fidget. She
didn't know what to say, so she decided that silence was
better than meaningless platitudes.
"Look at me," Susan said at last, composing herself. "I
turned all maudlin on you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean -- "
"Oh, hush," Beth said. Her own eyes were full of unshed
tears, and she blinked to clear them. Susan reached for
her cup of cocoa to cover her emotion. As she sipped,
Beth met her eyes and they gazed at one another for a
long moment. Understanding and compassion flowed
unspoken between them.
They finished their cocoa in silence, and Beth decided
that she wouldn't worry about guarding herself against
Susan. She'd sooner guard herself against her own
sister.
**
"Attention on deck!"
Jack automatically shot to his feet, his back straight,
hands at his sides, eyes front.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Commander Scarlatti said as
he strode up the aisle to the lectern at the front of
the squadron briefing room. "Please be seated."
Jack spared a glance at David and waggled his eyebrows,
as if to say "Here we go." Aside from quick
introductions with the squadron executive officer and
the command master chief, Jack and David had yet to meet
the majority of the men they'd be flying with.
"Before we begin," Commander Scarlatti said, "I'd like
to introduce our new pilots."
At the commander's glance, Jack rose. A half-second
later, David followed suit, still a little unsure of
himself.
Commander Scarlatti began, "Lieutenant Jack MacLean,
'Boxman'..."
Jack inclined his head to the room full of officers
gazing at him.
"...joins us from VA-125. He'll tell you more about
himself later, but his most recent job was as gunnery
and bombing instructor. So I've asked him to work with
Commander Waulk on the Yuma training evolution."
Jack shot a confident glance at the squadron XO, Frank
Waulk. In their brief encounter, the man had come across
as a stiff, by- the-book officer, but Jack reserved
further judgment until he actually had a chance to work
with him. Waulk had a pun for a callsign, "Side," and
Jack hoped he was wrong about the man's personality.
"And Ensign David Hughes, 'Gator,'" Scarlatti continued,
"comes to us from the RAG. Ensign Weigand will be glad
to meet him, I'm sure."
The gathered officers chuckled. A lieutenant JG tousled
the hair of the man next to him, a young, ginger-haired
ensign. The ensign bore it with rueful good grace, his
face turning ruddy.
"Mr. Weigand is our Shitty Little Job Officer,"
Scarlatti said to David, grinning as he did. "This is
his nugget cruise too, but you're junior to him. So when
you get up to speed, you will be our new SLJO."
"Aye, aye, sir," David said without a trace of
resentment.
Or comprehension, Jack mused with a smile. In any case,
David seemed too nervous to take offense.
"Until Mr. Hughes does get up to speed, however,"
Scarlatti said, turning back to Weigand, "you're still
our SLJO, Mr. Weigand." With a professional smile, he
gestured for Jack and David to be seated. "Now, let's
get down to business. The first item on the agenda is
logistics, and I'll turn the briefing over to Commander
Featherston..."
Later, after the briefing broke up, Jack and David
introduced themselves to the other pilots. Jack had a
good memory for names- -a trick his father had taught
him -- and he smiled as he met each man.
The names and the faces jumbled together after a while,
but Jack catalogued them all. The information would be
there later, when he needed it. Beside him, David seemed
a little overwhelmed, and he felt for the man. He'd been
overwhelmed himself when he joined his first squadron.
The Naval Aviation community was relatively small, and
full of go-getter personalities. The very process of
becoming a Navy pilot eliminated the shirkers, sea-
lawyers, and no-load officers. So the ones who pinned on
wings of gold were the best of the best -- they wouldn't
have survived the training if they weren't. Taken as a
group, they could be an overwhelming and raucous bunch.
Jack smiled again and glanced at David, who seemed to be
bearing up under the pressure. After all, he was one of
those men who'd survived the brutal selection process
and joined their elite company.
"Mr. MacLean," Commander Waulk called through the crowd.
Around Jack, faces turned serious. Waulk's tone had a
chilling effect on the men's good nature, and they
parted as if the XO were Moses himself.
"Yes, sir?" Jack said.
"I'd like to talk to you about our training evolution."
"Of course, sir." Jack said goodbye to David with his
eyes, took his leave of the other pilots, and joined the
XO.
Normally, the squadron's operations officer, Commander
Featherston, would have handled the training exercise.
But with the logistics of a three-week detachment --
moving fifteen planes, eighteen pilots, and all the
associated maintenance personnel -- the commander was
swamped. So Commander Waulk had taken over the training
schedule.
Jack spent the next hour working with the XO, and
discovered a curious dichotomy in the man's personality.
When they were around other squadron officers, Waulk was
stern and imposing, the very image of a tough
disciplinarian. The job of XO practically required it,
though, so Jack wasn't surprised.
The CO got to be "the Old Man," or "Skipper." Most were
respected, and some were even well-liked. But the XO had
to be the hatchet man, and couldn't afford the luxury of
being chummy with the men under him. Consequently, most
XOs had reputations as hardasses.
Much to his surprise, Jack discovered that Frank Waulk's
tough- guy act was just that, an act. The man had a
wicked sense of humor, and actually smiled more than any
XO Jack had ever known. When they were alone together,
he was even friendly.
Emboldened by his attitude, Jack suggested a few changes
to the bombing exercises. In reality, he wanted to
completely revise the plans, but he'd been in the
military long enough to know better than to
underestimate his superiors' sometimes-prickly egos.
Surprisingly, the XO seemed more than happy to have his
work critiqued.
"Be my guest, Mr. MacLean," he said. After a pause, he
sat back and considered the papers on the table between
them. Then he looked up, his expression serious. "Do you
feel comfortable rewriting the plans entirely?"
"Absolutely, sir," Jack said.
"Then have a draft on my desk by fourteen hundred
tomorrow."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Excellent, Mr. MacLean."
Jack took the cue, gathered the papers, and stood.
"Good to have you with us, Mr. MacLean," Waulk said.
"Thank you, sir. It's good to be here."
"Carry on."
**
"Commander Waulk isn't as hard as he seems," Jack said
as he and David drove home. He'd given the younger man a
ride to the base, so he could leave his wife with their
only car.
Jack deliberately tried to think of Beth as "David's
wife." He knew himself well enough to admit how
attractive she was, pregnant or not. With a silent
chuckle he remembered how horny he'd been when Susan was
pregnant. Beth could double as his wife's sister
(although Susan was an only child), so he had to work
hard not to let his attraction show.
He liked David, and as much as he might want to sleep
with the man's wife, he didn't want to compromise their
friendship, not to mention jeopardizing his military
career in the process. Fortunately, Jack was
disciplined. He wouldn't have made it through the
Citadel if he weren't, much less Naval flight training.
So he reminded himself that Beth was not available, and
returned his attention to the conversation.
"He's not?" David asked, forgetting that he might sound
like he was criticizing a superior officer.
Jack shook his head. "He might come across as a book-
thumper, but he's actually pretty smooth."
David looked a question at him.
"He got me to volunteer to rewrite the bombing evolution
for the Yuma training. Can you believe that?" Jack asked
rhetorically. "As long as I've been in the Navy? I know
better than to volunteer! And he got me to do it before
I even realized what was going on." He smiled in
disbelief. "Watch out for Commander Waulk. He's a slick
one."
David tried to hide a smirk. Unsuccessfully. Then he
turned serious. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"Shoot," Jack said laconically.
"What exactly is a Shitty Little Job Officer?"
Jack automatically chuckled. Remember, he told himself,
you were that wet behind the ears once.
"Is it pretty much what it sounds like?" David
continued, nervous in the lengthening silence.
"It's exactly what it sounds like," Jack said. "The Old
Man won't make you clean the heads or anything, but
you're going to do some pretty stupid stuff." He laughed
at a memory. "When I was SLJO in my first squadron, I
was on 'dog duty.'"
David's brow beetled with curiosity.
"The squadron commander had this mean-tempered little
pug, which was half-blind and liked to bite people.
Well, somebody had to take it for a walk, and I got the
duty. The thing pissed on my shoes the first time I took
him out."
David laughed.
"I'm not kidding," Jack said, his voice high-pitched
with laughter and remembered indignation. "The little
monster would bite my hand if I tried to shove him away,
so I ended up kicking him instead. He was really old,
though, so I felt bad about doing it, and I ended up
just shoving him away with my foot." He laughed again.
"I used to have to polish teeth marks from my shoes!
"The worst part, though, is that I actually started to
like that little menace. I guess he knew which side his
bread was buttered on, and he didn't snap at me after
the first few times. Still, it was a shitty job, and it
pretty much sums up what being SLJO entails."
David nodded.
"Most of it will be things like making coffee or
fetching doughnuts." He grinned sidelong at the younger
officer. "Chiefs and petty officers have actual work to
do... so nugget ensigns get to play step-and-fetch-it
and do the catering." He laughed at a memory. "But then
again, being the SLJO isn't all bad."
"Oh?"
He chuckled. "I once had to pick up the Old Man's kid
sister from the airport. She was coming in on a
commercial flight, and the XO didn't like children. So
he detailed me for the job." He laughed again. "Turns
out, the 'kid sister' was a blonde coed from Long
Beach!"
David's jaw dropped.
"I shit you not," Jack said earnestly. "She was built
like a Playmate, too." He chuckled again. "The XO and
half the wardroom fell all over themselves trying to
hold doors for her. But she just flashed me a pearly
white smile, put her arm through mine, and said, 'Lay
on, Macduff.'"
"You didn't actually sleep with her, did you?" David
asked, shocked.
"No," Jack said, with profound -- and honest -- regret.
"She was the Old Man's kid sister, after all. But
still..." He sighed at the memory, before turning a
little more serious. "Being SLJO might be a pain, but
it's not all bad!"
"I hope you're right," David said.
"Trust me." Jack grinned roguishly. "Would I lie to
you?"
**
"Do you want me to give you a ride to the Scarlattis'?"
Susan asked Beth.
They were sitting together at Beth's dining room table,
drinking cocoa. Beth was surprised at how quickly they'd
fallen into a routine, but she probably shouldn't have
been. Susan was easy to talk to, and their friendship
had blossomed. Susan didn't have any shortage of friends
-- from Jack's old squadron, as well as from the
neighborhood -- but they shared a bond as newcomers to
the VA-55 wives' club.
And since they were newcomers, Mary Scarlatti was
hosting a luncheon to introduce them to the other
squadron wives. Beth wasn't particularly enthusiastic
about it, though. Unfortunately, it was her duty, since
it would reflect poorly on David if she didn't attend.
The Navy had its share of politics, and an invitation
from the squadron commander's wife was tantamount to an
order.
She shook off her rebellious thoughts and turned her
attention to happier things, absent-mindedly stroking
her belly. She smiled as she felt her daughter's
presence. Her smile widened when she realized that Susan
automatically called the baby a "she." David was
convinced that it was another boy, but Beth knew better.
"I could pick you up around twelve fifteen," Susan
continued into the silence.
Beth shook off her distraction. "What? Oh, yes, thank
you."
"Woolgathering?" Susan asked softly.
Beth smiled. "I was thinking about her," she said,
glancing down at her belly. "Erin," she added, her
expression tender. When she looked up, Susan's eyes
sparkled with quiet pleasure. "What?" Beth asked,
suddenly self-conscious.
"I was just enjoying myself."
"Looking at me?"
Susan nodded. "You looked so... happy."
"I was. I am, even though I'm still getting used to
living out here. It's so... different from all I've
known. But the people are nice," she added, smiling at
the other woman.
"We try," Susan said with an offhanded, whimsical air.
Then she grinned at herself. "Just listen to me..."
After a moment the women sobered. "Mary said not to
bring anything to the luncheon, but I want to get her a
hostess gift."
Beth nodded. It was only polite.
"Maybe we could get something together?"
"Sure. But... what?"
Susan shrugged. "I don't know anything about her, except
what Jack's told me, which isn't much. Has David said
anything?"
Beth shook her head.
"I was afraid of that. So, when all else fails, a
houseplant should do the trick. I know a nice greenhouse
on Avalon," Susan said. "We could go tomorrow, around
ten o'clock. Okay?"
"Sounds great."
**
The luncheon itself was a lot more enjoyable than Beth
expected. Mary Scarlatti, a small, bird-like woman, was
a congenial hostess. Beth envied her energy, and found
herself sharing impressed glances with Susan over the
sumptuous food: handmade petit fours, a selection of
canapes, and a half-dozen other hors d'oeuvres, all
pretty enough to grace the pages of Good Housekeeping
magazine.
Beth also met an array of women: tall, short, thin,
plump, blonde, brunette, and auburn. Mary introduced
them in waves, so she wouldn't overtax Beth's stamina.
Some of the women seemed to resent being stage-managed,
but Beth welcomed it. After all, they already knew each
other, and only had to meet two new women. Beth and
Susan had to meet more than a dozen, and it was
difficult to keep them separate.
Many of the women had young children, so Paul was
occupied with two other boys his age. Three girls and a
boy, four-year-olds, were coloring at the kitchen table.
The school-age children were all at school, but Beth saw
Susan talking to two other women whose children were the
same age as Kirk and Doug.
At the moment Beth was sitting on the living room couch,
talking with two other pregnant women: Peggy Schmidt,
who was due in late January, and Jo Weigand, due in
February. Mary settled onto the divan across from them
and took a sip of coffee. The clink of her cup in the
saucer was as effective at getting their attention as a
school bell.
Mary talked about doctors at the base hospital,
babysitters, and a half-dozen other things "every young
mother needs to know." Beth got the distinct impression
that Mary would gladly organize their lives for them,
and her face slipped into the familiar noncommittal
smile. Mary obviously had good intentions, but Beth
wasn't looking for a mother-figure.
After fifteen minutes she excused herself to go to the
bathroom.
Being pregnant has its benefits, she mused wryly.
Unfortunately, one of the other women intercepted her in
the hallway. Beth searched her memory, but couldn't
recall the woman's name.
"Don't let Queen Mary get to you," the woman said.
Beth smiled politely.
"She's an admiral's daughter, and she resents that old
Don isn't cut out for higher command, so she tries to
control us."
"I'll try to remember that," Beth said, reserved. Over
the woman's shoulder, she saw Susan coming down the
hall, and she breathed an almost audible sigh of relief.
"Phyllis, isn't it?" Susan said, interrupting.
The woman turned.
"You're Frank's wife, right?" Susan said.
"Yes. Have you met him?"
"Not yet. But my husband's been working with him quite a
bit." With her eyes, she gestured for Beth to continue
to the bathroom. Then she neatly turned the other woman
away, heading back to the party.
"Oh? Doing what?" Phyllis asked, her voice animated as
she talked about her favorite subject: her husband's
career.
Beth quickly shut the bathroom door behind her, cutting
off the dwindling conversation.
**
"God, I hate women like that," Susan said later, as they
drove home together. Paul was napping in the back seat,
worn out from playing with the other children.
"Who?"
"Phyllis Waulk. She's bucking for admiral's wife, and
from what I gathered from some of the other women, she's
a first-class gossip."
Beth nodded. She hadn't heard that, but she didn't doubt
it.
"Mary Scarlatti might be a bit overbearing, but she has
good intentions. Phyllis, on the other hand, is
practically salivating at the thought of being a CO's
wife." Susan grimaced. "She will be, too... one day. And
she'll run the wives' group like her own henhouse. Ugh!
The CO's wife in Jack's first squadron was like that."
Beth looked a question at her.
"Needless to say, we didn't get along. I didn't gossip,
and I wasn't going to be part of her little circle. So I
was more than happy when we transferred out here." She
shook her head, as if angry at herself. "And listen to
me now," she said. "I'm doing the same thing I hate."
"No, you're not," Beth said. "You're just letting off
steam with someone you trust."
Susan took a deep breath, her hands gripping the
steering wheel as the tension left her shoulders.
Beth hesitantly filled the silence, "We were barely in
the RAG squadron long enough for me to get to know most
of the other wives. Training was different, though, and
I got to know some of the women fairly well."
Susan nodded.
"So I knew what to expect today." She laughed
philosophically. "It takes all kinds, I guess."
"It does," Susan said sourly.
"So let's talk about who we liked instead."
"Peggy Schmidt," Susan said without hesitation, her mood
brightening. "The pretty blonde who's due a month after
you are."
Beth nodded emphatically. Peggy was pretty, in a clean-
scrubbed Midwestern way. She and her husband were from
Wisconsin.
They talked about several other women, and once again,
Beth was surprised that their opinions were almost
identical. So much so that she had an odd sense of deja
vu every time Susan made a comment.
"Listen to me," the other woman finally said, "nattering
away as if I had good sense."
Beth smiled.
"Do you want to stop and get some ice cream on the way
home?"
At the thought of food -- unsophisticated food -- Beth's
stomach leapt with a welcoming twinge.
"I thought I'd get some for dessert tonight, but you and
I can have a cone on the way home," Susan added slyly.
"That sounds perfect."
**
Jack climbed down the side of his jet and glanced at his
freshly painted name on the fuselage under the canopy
rail. He wasn't senior enough to have a plane all to
himself, though, and Lieutenant JG Ed Cousins' name
adorned the other side of the A- 4. Cousins had a
reputation as a ladies' man, and his call sign,
obviously enough, was "Smooth."
When Jack reached the tarmac, he greeted his new crew
chief, a big, quiet Montanan named Gene Hollister. Jack
missed his previous crew chief's affable personality,
but Hollister was just as competent, and every bit as
friendly in his own taciturn way.
"Are you ready for tomorrow, Gene?" Jack asked.
The big man merely nodded.
Jack wasn't a stickler for the book, and greeted Gene's
non- verbal answer with a silent reply of his own: a
smile.
The junior pilots and ground crews would fly to Yuma in
a transport aircraft, while the squadron's more senior
pilots would fly the A-4s themselves. Jack was one of
those pilots, but David would be stuck riding the
transport.
David was just climbing from the cockpit of the next jet
in line, and Jack walked toward him. "How do you think
you did?" he asked.
The two men had been making simulated bomb runs over a
remote corner of the base.
"So-so," David said frankly. "I still lose the target
when I roll in, and it takes me a second to reacquire."
"You're trying too hard," Jack said as they fell into
step together. "Don't worry about flying the plane and
setting your arming switches. Your main job is to focus
on the target. The best bombsight in the world won't do
a thing for you if you don't use the Mark One eyeball.
After that, it's a snap to let the plane fly itself onto
the right bearing and dive angle. Then you bring your
eyes back inside the cockpit. After that, you check your
tracking and simply maneuver the pipper onto your
target."
"It's not that easy when I try it."
"It just takes practice," Jack said. "Trust me, I
couldn't hit the broad side of a barn when I joined a
line squadron. But my first CO was an old brown-shoe
Navy man who flew Corsairs in Korea."
David nodded, his interest suddenly piqued.
Jack smiled. "He taught me a trick: go through all the
motions of arming your bombs and setting your pickle
switches in your head. Do it over and over and over
again, till you're sick of it. Do it at home while
you're sitting in your chair... do it while you're on
the john..."
They shared a grin.
"Do it whenever you have a chance. Close your eyes, move
your hands, and go through the sequence. Over and over
and over again, till you know the routine without
thinking about it. Tomorrow, on the plane ride to Yuma,
sit in your seat and go over the sequence."
David nodded earnestly.
"And when the time comes to do it for real, get your
head out of the cockpit. Your body knows what to do, so
your mind can concentrate on target acquisition. Don't
worry about anybody grading your drop. Don't worry about
anything but your target. Once you get your eyes on the
target, keep 'em there. Your hands can fly the plane on
their own. Got it?"
"I think so."
"And above all, relax. This shit is easy. Just practice
your in- cockpit routine until you don't have to think
about it." Jack looked at the other man, to see if his
words had sunk in. "When you don't have to think about
what you're doing, you'll realize that you have all the
time in the world, and you can put your bombs on the
bull's-eye. Okay?"
"I think so, sir."
"'Sir'?" Jack repeated, grinning. "Now you're getting
uptight again, David. Relax. Go with the flow. Eyes
outside the cockpit. And remember... this shit's a piece
of cake."
**
The next morning, Beth rose and fixed David a hearty
breakfast. He'd be gone for three weeks, until the day
before Thanksgiving, and a fist gripped her heart at the
thought. What if Erin came early, like Paul had? What if
she had complications? What if...?
She heard David drop his bag in the foyer and she took a
deep, calming breath. Then she slid his eggs onto the
plate, steam rising from the cup of strong black coffee
next to it. The sun wouldn't rise for hours, yet their
house was already pouring warm yellow light into the
darkness.
"Did you kiss Paul goodbye?" she asked as she set the
plate and cup on the table.
David nodded and took a sip of coffee, heedless of the
temperature.
Beth smiled to herself. In college, he'd been so rushed
that he'd gone beyond the point of getting burned by a
hot cup of coffee. With his engineering classes, the
Navy, and all his other obligations, he'd almost been
too busy for her.
But not too busy, she reminded herself, smiling at the
memory. She'd grown to love the shy, dedicated young man
her brother had brought home. And she'd quickly decided
that he was The One, surrendering her virginity to him
in her bedroom one weekend when her family was away.
Unlike so many men, David didn't want a wife who merely
cooked and cleaned. In his own quiet way, he encouraged
her to share her opinion, and to make decisions for
herself. He's like that in the bedroom, too, she
reflected. He wanted her to enjoy herself, and he went
out of his way to make sure she did.
She'd known women whose husbands were uncaring, inept,
or both. They were the men who rolled over and went to
sleep when they were done. Even worse, some of them
didn't think women should enjoy themselves at all. But
not David. He could be kind and gentle, but he could
also drive her to distraction, with fingers, tongue, and
-- most of all -- his dick.
As she thought about him, she felt her insides stir. The
only time she regretted being pregnant was when she was
horny. With her great belly, she couldn't have sex as
often as she wanted to, or in as many positions. Some
worked, but others didn't.
Fortunately, she loved oral sex. At the thought, she
felt the corners of her mouth quirk upward.
David looked at her quizzically when she scooted her
chair next to his. His expression changed to surprise
when he felt her hand caress his thigh. He looked at his
watch.
"Beth, honey..."
She ignored him and slid her hand to his crotch.
Normally, she liked taking her time when they made love.
But sometimes she just wanted to suck him off quickly.
For some reason, she relished the thought of him getting
off when he couldn't return the favor. Those were the
few times when she was totally in control, and she knew
it.
"Seriously," he said, "Jack's going to be here in ten
minutes. We don't have time..."
She shushed him, her fingers playing along the fabric
covering his dick.
"Beth..."
With gentle pressure on his knee, she turned him to face
her. She smiled at the note of lust in his voice. Even
with her huge belly, he still found her attractive. She
moistened her lips and smiled.
"We really don't have time," he said, looking at his
watch again.
"It's already oh four fifty."
"You just let me worry about the time," she said, her
voice husky with desire.
His objections died unspoken as she slid to the floor
between his thighs, settling comfortably, her legs
tucked beneath her. For a distracted moment, she debated
whether to sit cross-legged or not. She finally decided
that she wouldn't be on her knees long enough for her
legs to go to sleep.
With a smile, she unzipped his khaki uniform trousers
and reached into the fly of his underwear. With a little
effort, she extracted his semi-hard dick, her fingers
wrapping around the shaft as it swelled.
She knew from talking with other women that David's dick
was bigger than most. When she lost her virginity, it
had felt huge within her, the pressure almost
unbearable. But then something within her had snapped,
and the pressure eased.
She had mixed memories of that first time, the pain and
pleasure mingling together. The second time had been
better, but the memory of the first time had still been
fresh. They'd spent the weekend together, though, and by
the end of it she'd been as eager for sex as David was.
She'd also been shocked. The first time she actually saw
his erection, she couldn't imagine how he'd gotten it
inside her.
Then as now, the bulbous head was purple with arousal,
the shaft thick and full and oh-so-long. With a smile,
she remembered how guilty she'd felt at her enjoyment.
The guilt had been short- lived, though, and she'd soon
found herself yearning to feel him inside her.
The first time she sucked him, he'd held her head and
thrust his hips, his shaft sliding into her throat,
threatening to gag her. At the time, she'd put her hands
on his thighs to slow his bull rush, only to have him
madly thrusting again a minute later. So she'd taken
charge, wrapping her hands around his dick and squeezing
until she got his attention. Before he could protest,
she'd taken him back in her mouth, moving at her own
pace.
He hadn't lasted long after that, and the salty-sour
taste of his semen filled the back of her throat. She'd
known what to expect, and she'd swallowed... and
swallowed... and swallowed. David's seemingly endless
gushes poured down her throat. When she'd finally come
up for air, his dick was still oozing the white fluid,
pumping in time with his heart.
She thought about that first time as she sucked him now,
her lips working against his shaft, her tongue teasing
the underside ridge. She'd had a lot of experience since
then, and she put it to good use.
Unfortunately, she couldn't take her time and really get
him worked up. Instead, she concentrated on the tip of
his dick, her tongue moving in circles around the
sensitive glans. She wrapped one hand around his thick
shaft and used the other to caress his balls, still
trapped by his underwear and trousers.
He began thrusting his hips, but nothing like the first
time. He'd learned control since then, so he was content
to run his fingers through her hair. She sighed at the
feeling of his strong hands subtly guiding her motions.
She also sighed at the sensuous warmth of his dick as it
glided over her tongue.
She bobbed her head, her lips tight as she worked him
toward his release. She knew he was getting close -- she
could feel his reactions transmitted through his grip on
her head. She increased her pace, his swollen glans
pressing against the back of her throat on each
downstroke. On each upstroke, she pursed her lips, the
tip of his dick barely within her mouth.
Soon enough, she felt him tense. At the same time she
heard the muted rumble of a car pulling into the
driveway. She moaned with the need to taste him, and she
smelled his semen before she felt it flood her mouth.
She swallowed once and then again, the heat spreading
through her throat and chest, the scent making her head
swim. The gushes ran together, the heat and saltiness
suffusing her senses.
"Oh, God," he groaned at last, his thighs trembling as
she sucked the last of his semen from his shaft.
She felt answering trembles from her own thighs, a
combination of lust and too much weight on them for too
long.
David slumped in the chair, running his hands through
her hair, his touch gentle. "I'm sorry..." he began.
She cut him off by kissing the sensitive crown of his
slowly shrinking dick. She sat back and smiled.
"I'm sorry," he said again, struggling not to look at
his watch.
"Help me up," she said, brushing off his needless
apology.
He did, and she suppressed a smirk at the picture they
must have made: her in her robe, belly bulging, lips
still shiny with semen; him in his uniform, his long,
thick dick hanging semi-hard from his open fly. She
discreetly wiped the corners of her mouth, tasting him
anew, and tilted her head up for a kiss.
David had never been shy about tasting his own semen,
and he kissed her full on the lips, pulling her close,
his hands strong on her back.
"Oh, my," she said when they broke the kiss.
Outside, the Corvette's engine revved in a subtle
signal, quieter than the horn would've been.
David's expression turned guilty as he glanced at his
watch. He started to speak, but she shushed him with a
finger to his lips.
"I love you," she said softly. Then she smiled, her eyes
crinkling with affection. "Now go."
"I'll call you when we get there," he said, casting
about for his leather flight jacket.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, hiding a
smirk.
He looked at her blankly.
She glanced at his crotch, his dick still hanging from
his trousers.
He rolled his eyes and hurriedly tucked himself into his
pants, wincing as he fumbled with his zipper.
She took pity on him and stepped close, her sure hands
tugging the zipper closed. Then she took the opportunity
to rise on tiptoes and kiss him again.
"I'll see you in three weeks," he said, donning his
jacket against the early-morning cold. "And I'll call
you when I get there."
She nodded, and waved farewell from the front door as he
half-ran to Jack's idling car. Jack looked at her
through the windshield and she saw his white teeth flash
with a smile. He waved, and then said something to David
as he climbed into the car. David looked abashed, and
Jack laughed. With another wave, he put the car into
reverse and backed out of the driveway.
**
"I hate farewells," Susan said.
She's in an odd mood, Beth thought. It's almost as if
she's --
"I'm sure this is going to sound strange," Susan
continued, "but they make me horny."
Beth fought not to gape as her suspicion was so candidly
confirmed.
"Jack and I had a big night last night, and then again
this morning in the shower," Susan said, "but I'm still
not satisfied. There must be something wrong with me."
Beth herself had been simmering since David left, but
she thought she was alone in her desire.
"You know?" Susan asked. Her inquisitive look turned
into a knowing one, and she smiled. "I guess you do."
Beth felt a momentary stab of embarrassment, and she
looked down, her hands firmly planted in her lap. She
trusted Susan, though, and knew she wouldn't spread
rumors about her being some kind of wanton slut.
I'm not a wanton slut, she thought peevishly. I just
like sex. She smiled to herself, the memory of David's
dick still fresh in her mind. Okay, so I like it a lot.
When she glanced up, she noticed that Susan's nipples
were hard, two points pressing against her blouse. She
felt a moment of shock when she realized that her glance
was more than casual, and she looked away quickly.
Fortunately, Susan was deep in thought.
"I don't know why I get all hot and bothered when I
can't do anything about it," Susan said all of a sudden.
"And it's not as if Jack left me high and dry."
Beth's thoughts wandered, and she imagined David's dick
-- and what she would've done if they'd had more time.
She had been left high and dry, but it had been her
choice.
She and David hadn't had sex very often lately. Not as
often as she wanted, at least. Partly, he was afraid of
hurting her -- or worse, the baby -- if he thrust too
deeply. He had a right to be concerned, too, since his
dick was bigger than most. She tried to tell him that
she wasn't made of eggshells, but he was still cautious.
For her own part, she was often too tired. Being
pregnant and keeping up with an active toddler was
exhausting, and she usually collapsed at the end of the
day. Besides, with her huge belly and extra bulk, she
didn't feel very sexy.
When she did feel horny, she seemed almost insatiable.
She knew it was just her body's reaction to the ups and
downs of pregnancy, but it still shocked her when she
felt the desire for sex, sex, and more sex.
After David left, she had planned to take a long bath.
She couldn't take hot baths like she truly enjoyed --
her mother and her doctor both told her to avoid them --
but she could fill the tub with tepid water and soak in
it.
But Paul had woken early that morning. Since then, she
hadn't had a moment to herself, and her insides were
simmering.
"Did you and David...?" Susan asked, her meaning clear.
"We fooled around," Beth said at last. "Well, I took
care of him, but..." She shrugged.
Susan's eyes widened. "You mean he didn't take care of
you too?"
Beth quickly shook her head. As she thought about David,
her sullenness dissipated. He loved her, even if she did
look like the Goodyear blimp, and he would've taken care
of her if they'd had time. "It was too quick," she said
aloud. "And Jack was waiting in the driveway."
Susan sat forward, her eyes sparkling intensely. "You
mean you and David...? While Jack was waiting in the
car...?"
Beth grinned. Society might not approve of women who
liked sex, but what did she care? Besides, Susan wasn't
about to condemn her. If anything, she was even more
liberated.
"Right here on the dining room table?" Susan said,
grinning wryly.
"No," Beth said, more demure. She started to say "I gave
him a 'you know,'" but she stopped herself. "I sucked
him off," she said at last. Then she shrugged. "It was
all we had time for."
Susan nodded her understanding.
"I thought I'd" -- she made a finger-wiggling gesture --
"take care of myself later." When Susan's eyes fairly
sparkled, Beth felt a rush of horniness and tried to
suppress it. Her thoughts wandered to the other woman's
body but she quickly focused on something else, anything
else. She didn't want to think of Susan in "that" way.
It was wrong, wasn't it? Still...
"I know exactly what you mean," Susan said. "If I didn't
take care of myself, I wouldn't get half as much sex as
I do."
"I don't do it all the time," Beth said quickly. "Just
sometimes."
"Why not?" Susan asked, genuinely curious. "I do it all
the time."
"But good girls don't -- "
"Good girls don't masturbate?" Susan finished, scoffing.
"Good girls are boring. And who wants to be a good girl
anyway?"
"Well, I thought..." Beth began, but trailed off. Her
imagination was ablaze with images of Susan playing with
herself. Guilt and arousal warred within her, and she
felt her face turn hot.
Susan misinterpreted the reaction as shame. It was, but
for a different reason than she suspected. "Oh, I'd
never have this discussion with... Mary Scarlatti," she
said. "Or Phyllis Waulk. But you and me...?"
Beth felt herself relax as she finally mastered her
imagination. Her treacherous imagination, she thought
peevishly. After a moment to compose herself, she met
Susan's eyes.
"Exactly," Susan said, sensing their unspoken agreement.
"If we can't have a friendly conversation about diddling
ourselves, then I don't know what we can talk about."
Beth giggled. "Diddling?!"
"What would you call it?"
"I... I don't know," she said, her face heating further.
"I guess I've never really called it anything."
"Frigging?" Susan asked disingenuously.
Beth made a strangled sound, her eyes pleading for the
other woman to change the subject.
"Playing with ourselves?"
Beth felt her eyes bug.
"Rubbing off?"
"Susan, please!"
Susan smiled wryly. "Whatever it's called," she said,
"it sure feels good, doesn't it?"
Beth wasn't ashamed of her body -- or her sexuality --
but her sudden flash of attraction for the other woman
had startled her. She didn't want to think of herself as
a prude, but she had certain... preconceptions. And one
of those was that good girls didn't have sex with women.
Still, emotions struggled within her, and she fought to
sort them out.
"I'm sorry," Susan said, misreading her mood. "I
shouldn't have said anything."
"No, it's not that," Beth said. "It's just..."
Susan waited.
"I guess it's just that I'm not used to talking about it
with anyone," she lied. The truth was far more shocking,
and far more personal. "My sister... maybe," she
continued the lie. "But..." She shrugged.
"Well, we're not sisters, but..."
Beth smiled automatically -- a genuine smile, not one of
the perfunctory ones she'd mastered long ago. "We're
sisters of a sort," she said, glad for the change of
subject. "Besides, Ginny" -- her real sister --
"certainly doesn't know I gave my husband a blowjob
before he left the house this morning."
"I'll let you in on a little secret," Susan said,
leaning forward confidentially.
Beth leaned forward as well.
"I did too," Susan half-whispered.
Beth rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "I figured
that out for myself."
The two women looked at each other and then burst into
giggles. Paul looked at them from across the room, but
then went back to his blocks, neatly building a house.
Conscious of her son and his uncomfortable habit of
repeating exactly what she least wanted him to, Beth
leaned forward. "I really love doing it, too."
Susan glanced at Paul before shielding her mouth with
her hand. "Me too." Her eyes danced. "I can almost get
off, just by sucking Jack."
Beth couldn't get off just by giving head, but she
certainly did get worked up, a fact made all the more
obvious as she fought not to squirm in her seat. Her
senses were afire with lust, from the memory of David,
as well as the direction the conversation had taken.
She wasn't the only one, she noticed. If anything,
Susan's nipples were harder still, sharp points casting
shadows against the gold and brown of her blouse. For a
moment, Beth's imagination conjured an image of what
Susan would look like without the blouse.
"I'd pay more than a penny for your thoughts," Susan
said suddenly.
"W-why?"
She smiled.
Knowingly?
"You just had a... curious... look on your face," she
said. "You almost looked like ..."
Guilt made Beth reckless. "Like what?"
"Nothing," Susan said at last.
In spite of her denial, Beth was certain the other woman
had seen right through her. She felt the slippery heat
between her legs, and thoughts of a bath nearly made her
tremble with anticipation.
"I'd better get home," Susan said.
Beth immediately felt guilty.
Susan's expression turned wry. "I want to get home and
take a bath before the boys get home."
She looked up in surprise.
Susan wiggled her fingers, her grin widening. "I need
to, ahem, take care of myself."
Her breath caught in her throat, and she fought to
swallow.
"Don't worry," Susan said, "your secret's safe with me."
**
Beth had to wait till Paul took his nap, but when she
finally settled into the lukewarm bath, she didn't waste
any time. Her fingers found her clit and she circled it.
Tingles of pleasure quickly turned into waves of
arousal.
She thought about David, and the feel of his body
between her legs. She closed her eyes and imagined the
sensation of his lips on her earlobe, her neck, her
nipples. She swallowed hard, imagining the taste of him
in her mouth, the feeling as he gushed down her throat.
Her fingers circled her clit, her nostrils flaring as
she breathed deep. Love and warmth swelled within her as
she thought about David's body moving in sync with hers.
She imagined his head between her thighs, his shoulders
forcing her legs apart, the feeling of warmth as his
tongue teased her. Then she slowed her fingers and
circled lazily.
With her eyes still closed, she imagined what it would
be like to feel a woman's touch. Would it be softer?
More tender? Would a woman know just where to touch her
to send her into orbit?
Beth felt a sudden tightness spreading outward. The
tightness turned to warmth, a glow growing within her as
she imagined her husband's face above her. But the
feeling between her legs was still soft and tentative,
gentle and insistent. It wasn't the feeling of her
husband pounding into her. It was...
She arched her back and struggled not to cry out. Every
muscle contracted as the waves washed over her. Heat and
pleasure coursed through her body, radiating from her
center. She saw spots as she clamped her eyes shut, but
in her mind's eye she saw a woman's smiling face.
Smiling Susan's smile.
Beth's eyes snapped open as she panted. She looked
around the bathroom frantically, but it was just as
empty as it had been a moment before. She lay back in
the bath and shuddered with an aftershock, the water
rippling as her chest heaved. Then she swallowed hard
and moistened her lips.
"What was I thinking?" she wondered aloud.
CHAPTER THREE
"Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" Susan asked.
Beth looked up from drying the dishes and paused for a
moment. At eight months pregnant, she didn't do anything
quickly. Nor did she do anything without feeling awkward
and ponderous. A selfish part of her was ready for the
baby to be born already.
"I thought we could have dinner at our house... if you
don't have plans, that is," Susan continued. "The guys
probably don't care where we eat, as long as they're
fed."
"And as long as they get to watch their football," Beth
added. Then she smiled to herself. She hadn't seen David
in almost three weeks, and football was the last thing
on her mind. She wanted to see him -- to have sex with
him, actually -- and she didn't really care what he
wanted to do. I'm as bad as a man, she thought wryly,
stifling a laugh.
"Well, as long as they get sex, food, and football, in
that order," Susan said, her thoughts mirroring Beth's.
"You got that right. We should probably feel... used."
She rolled her eyes for effect, but then smirked. "I
just can't bring myself to complain, though. It's been a
while..."
Susan laughed. "I know what you mean. I've been taking a
lot of baths lately."
"Forget baths," Beth said, surprising herself. "I was in
the grocery store the other day and the produce started
looking good."
"I'm sure cucumber sales skyrocket when the carrier
sails," Susan added.
The women shared a snicker.
My, how close we've grown, Beth reflected. Susan knows
more about my nonexistent sex life than my sister does.
But it won't be nonexistent for long, she added,
mentally counting the days.
"Back to my original question..." Susan said. "Do you
have plans for Thanksgiving?"
Beth shook her head. "My parents are spending it with my
sister and her husband. And Hank's in Japan..." She
fought not to frown. "He has a girlfriend there."
"Oh?"
"He's one of those 'girl in every port' kind of guys."
Susan's expression turned curious.
"He's not a bad guy..." She shook her head as she
trailed off. "I guess he's not ready to settle down yet.
And he's still... sowing his wild oats." A strange
expression crossed Susan's face, but it was gone before
Beth could say anything else. "Anyway," she continued
after a moment, "no, we don't have Thanksgiving plans."
"Then would you all like to have dinner at our house?"
Susan asked, the odd look still in her eye. "My father's
coming out, and I think you'd like him. Besides, the
more, the merrier. You know?"
"That's very kind of you," Beth said, mentally scowling
at her formality. Something about Susan's attitude had
changed, and until she understood what it was, she was
wary. She didn't want to be, but --
"I'm sorry," Susan said, reading her perfectly. "You
didn't do anything. It's something you said."
Beth arched an eyebrow in question.
"Oh, it's not a problem," Susan explained. "It just...
made me think about something."
"What was it? What I said, I mean."
"'Sowing his wild oats.'"
Beth fought not to frown. Unsuccessfully. She could
criticize her brother, but if Susan thought she could --
"Sorry, I don't mean your brother," Susan said, exhaling
in frustration. Quickly: "Jack used to say the same
thing. He said he married me before he got a chance to
sow his wild oats. It used to bother me. But now..."
"Now...?"
Susan shrugged. "Now... now I'm not so sure."
Beth felt her forehead crease.
"Oh, I don't want Jack to have a girl in every port. He
is a married man, after all."
"That hasn't stopped a lot of married men," Beth said,
more sharply than she wanted to. She trusted David, but
a small part of her wondered if he didn't look at other
women the way many men did. Navy pilots were often away
from their wives and girlfriends, and separation didn't
put a damper on their sex drives. If anything, the
opportunity for "a little something on the side" made it
all the more appealing for many men. David had never
cheated on her, but...
"But I wonder how I'd feel if he was having sex with
another woman," Susan finished, drawing Beth from her
cynical musing. "Just sex, I mean. You know, for fun."
"What do you mean 'for fun'?" Beth asked, curiosity
welling within her.
"I mean..." Susan said, letting the pause drag out. "I
don't know what I mean," she said at last. "I was just
thinking out loud. Rambling, more like it. Ignore me."
Beth pursed her lips in frustration. Not only was her
curiosity unsatisfied, but she felt a sudden wave of
sympathy for the other woman. Susan was obviously
struggling with something, and while Beth might not be a
gossip, she did want to know what it was. She was polite
enough to change the subject, though, and was happy to
see the look of relief on Susan's face.
Unfortunately, when Susan finally said goodbye and went
home to meet her sons after school, Beth was more
curious than ever.
**
Jack pulled into the driveway and immediately killed the
Corvette's engine. He popped the clutch as it came to a
stop, and sat silently for a moment. The engine clicked
and pinged as it began to cool.
The flight from Yuma to Lemoore hadn't been long, but
after three hard weeks of training -- with up to four
sorties a day -- he practically luxuriated in the
comfort of the Corvette's bucket seat. An ejection seat
might save his life one day, but it certainly wasn't
built with comfort in mind.
After a moment he got out, pulling his suitcase from the
passenger seat as he did. He hadn't even donned his
leather jacket for the drive home, and the cool November
air made him shiver reflexively. The porch light glowed
warmly as he rounded the car and strode toward the front
door. It opened before he reached it, and Susan smiled
at him, the best sight he'd seen in weeks.
"Hi, babe," he said, sweeping her into his arms as he
dropped the suitcase in the foyer. He picked her up and
spun her around, their lips already locked in a kiss.
"Welcome home," she said when they finally separated and
he set her down.
"Where are the boys? And your dad?"
"He took them to dinner and a movie."
"So we've got the house to ourselves?"
She nodded.
"Mmm, good," he said, kissing her again, his hands
already cupping her ass. He used the convenient handhold
to lift her into the air and carry her toward their
bedroom.
She laughed and hugged him tight, her body deliciously
soft against him.
"So," he wondered aloud, "did you have a good three
weeks with Beth?"
Susan rolled her eyes. "Is that all you ever think
about?"
"Hey," he said lightheartedly, "I haven't had any nookie
in three weeks. I'm allowed to think about it every once
in a while."
"Oh, all right." She looked into his eyes and smiled. "I
guess I'll let you off the hook. This time."
"Thanks," he said dryly. Then he sat on the edge of the
bed and began unlacing his flight boots. When he kicked
them off, he pulled her close again, his eyes at the
level of her breasts. "So, you were telling me about you
and Beth."
"I was not," she shot back, fighting not to smile. A
moment later she shook her head in exasperation and
amazement. "You're not going to believe what I did."
"What?"
"I almost came right out and asked her."
His eyebrows flew up. "You did?" He was intrigued, but
he was also anxious to feel her body against him, so he
scooted toward the center of the bed, pulling her along.
She crawled after him and then straddled his hips, her
dress riding higher, exposing a tantalizing expanse of
her legs. He pulled her closer still and rested his
hands on her thighs.
She fought off distraction and continued her story. "We
were talking about sowing wild oats. Her brother
evidently has a girl in every port."
"He's an F-4 driver, right?"
She nodded. "When she said that, I thought it might be
the right time to talk to her about... you know."
Swinging, Jack supplied. He arched an eyebrow in silent
question.
Susan grimaced.
"What?" he finally asked.
"I... I chickened out," she said at last, sighing in
disgust. "I wanted to tell her about us," she added,
"but I just couldn't work up the nerve."
He chuckled.
Susan knew him well enough not to take offense, but she
frowned nonetheless. "You try seducing a woman for the
first time."
"I managed it just fine, thank you."
"Yes, but you're a man. I've never had to do this
before."
"You've had sex with a woman before," he said matter-of-
factly, his eyebrows lowered in puzzlement. She had had
sex with a woman before -- a girl, actually, but she was
a girl herself at the time, barely sixteen.
Growing up at a nudist camp had provided Susan with a
wealth of opportunities, fueling her young sex drive.
Her past adventures were another reason Jack wanted to
get into swinging; he wanted to see his wife with
another woman. He'd imagined it many times -- a jerk-off
fantasy for when he had to take care of himself -- but
he wanted to see it for real. He wanted to taste another
woman on his wife's lips. He wanted --
"Are you even paying attention?" Susan asked, wrenching
him from his fantasy.
He pursed his lips, laughing at himself as much as her
exasperation.
"I'm trying to tell you something serious and you're
imagining me in bed with someone else, aren't you?"
He tried to look innocent, but she saw right through
him.
"A man or a woman this time?"
"A woman." To distract her from a pointed reply, he ran
his hands up her thighs, his thumbs delving between
them, teasing her panty-covered crotch.
"Oh, no fair," she gasped.
Grinning, he pulled his hands back, far enough to remove
the distraction, but still within striking distance.
"I'm sorry," he said, more or less contrite. "You were
saying..."
"I was saying," she said, gazing at him levelly, "that
it's not very easy to seduce a woman you hardly know."
"Hardly know?" he scoffed. "You've spent more time with
her in the past two months than any of your other
friends. You even said she's like the sister you never
had. So how can you 'hardly know' her?"
Susan opened her mouth but then closed it uncertainly.
Finally, she frowned. "Maybe I'm not as confident as I
thought I was."
He arched an eyebrow.
"I thought she might be interested in swinging, but
then..."
"Then...?"
"Then..." she began, only to trail off again. After a
moment she rolled her eyes and sighed. "This isn't so
easy when everyone's wearing clothes."
He chuckled.
"It's true," she said, almost petulantly. "It's a lot
easier to 'accidentally' rub against someone when you're
swimming together. Or to grab the wrong body part when
you're play-wrestling."
Jack's imagination erupted with visions of Susan and
Beth "play- wrestling," and his head swam as most of the
blood rushed to his dick.
"You're doing it again," Susan warned.
"Sorry."
"No you're not."
He wagged his head side-to-side, equivocating. Then he
grinned. "You should see yourself in my head, though."
She tried to look indifferent.
"Trust me. Would I lie to you?"
"No, but you'd distract me with my own fantasies, just
so you didn't have to admit that you weren't paying
attention. This is serious, Jack. If I'm wrong about
Beth and David, it could have serious consequences."
"I don't think you're wrong about them," he said,
sobering for the first time since he pulled her onto the
bed. "David's..."
"David's what?"
"He's... shy," Jack said. "No, 'shy' isn't the right
word. He's... he's trying not to screw up. I can't say I
blame him, either. You remember how I was when I first
joined a fleet squadron."
She nodded.
Jack had always projected a cocky, self-assured
attitude, but Susan knew his heart. He had never let
anyone else see that side of him, and a detached part of
him realized that it made their marriage stronger.
He saw a lot of himself in David, especially since he
knew to look for the hidden signs. He felt protective of
him, too. Maybe the younger man was the brother he'd
never had. He pondered that for a moment, recalling
himself at a younger age. He smiled at the thought,
amazed that he'd managed to make it as far as he had.
When his thoughts returned to David, he smiled again,
wider and without any amazement. In the weeks since they
joined the squadron, David had come a long way, not only
in ability, but in confidence. He didn't have the same
aggressive personality Jack did, but he came close.
But if David didn't share Jack's aggressiveness, he more
than made up for the lack with his libido. Chasing tail
was a favorite pastime of pilots, especially at Yuma,
and most of them flirted with the local girls -- it was
practically de rigueur. The Old Man and Commander
Featherston were the exceptions. Scarlatti was faithful
to his wife, and Featherston was both dour and a devout
Catholic.
The bachelors like Keith Olin and Ed Cousins were bold
and aggressive, and often went home with the girls, or
to the motel across the street from the pilots' favorite
watering hole. A few of the married men -- the kind who
measured their fidelity by their proximity to their
wives -- did the same.
The majority of the men were like Jack and David,
though. They enjoyed the chase, but weren't all that
serious about actually catching any of the local girls.
Nonetheless, Jack had been amazed at David's
transformation. After a couple of beers, he forgot to be
nervous, and his boyish charm was almost irresistible.
Only "Puppy" Weigand attracted more female attention,
and that was simply because his good looks and innocent
schoolboy personality drew them like bees to honey.
Still, David had declined more than his fair share of
opportunities.
"He isn't a prude, though," Jack said, resuming the
conversation. "He might not be interested in sharing his
wife, but then again..."
"Then again...?"
He shrugged by way of answer. He paused for a moment,
gathering his thoughts. She knew him well enough to bide
her time.
"Do you think...?" she finally asked, reading the change
in his expression.
"I think they could be the right couple," Jack said,
choosing his words carefully. He normally didn't beat
around the bush, but with something as serious as his
career, he erred on the side of caution. A moment later,
he laughed at himself.
What? Susan asked with the tilt of her head.
"I was just thinking," he said, still semi-distracted.
"I'm willing to go to Vietnam... no, I'm eager to go to
Vietnam -- a real war, a shooting war -- but I'm not
willing to jeopardize my career just because I'm horny."
She arched an eyebrow for him to continue, although she
clearly understood what he'd meant.
He laughed again, the sound full of irony. "I'm willing
to be shot at, but I'm scared to death of a dishonorable
discharge."
She smiled and caressed his face.
He didn't like to think that his honor was more
important than his life -- especially not with a wife
and two sons he loved more than anything in the world --
but he couldn't get the thought out of his head. "Am I
crazy?" he finally asked.
Susan shook her head, her eyes misty. "No," she said at
last. Then she smiled tenderly. "You're just... you."
He smiled in reply, emotion welling unexpectedly. After
a moment he swallowed hard. "This is something I've got
to do," he said softly. He didn't have to say "Vietnam."
She knew. He could see it in her eyes. "I... I can't
explain it. I... I..." He clenched his fists in a
mixture of frustration and impatience.
She shushed him quietly, her hand warm on his face. "I
know," she whispered. "I don't want you to go, but..."
He looked up, his eyes stinging.
"But it's something you have to do," she said, her voice
still soft and soothing. "You wouldn't be you if you
didn't."
He swallowed again, his mouth suddenly dry.
"And I wouldn't love you if you weren't."
He smiled and pulled her close for a kiss. Their lips
met, softly at first, but with growing urgency.
He didn't bother taking her dress off, and he ripped her
panties in the rush to thrust himself into her. She
didn't seem to mind, and clung to him almost
desperately, rocking against him, her pussy hot and wet.
When he came, he arched his back, his hands on her hips,
steadying them both as he squirted deep within her.
After a long, low groan, he opened his eyes. She was
panting, her nostrils flaring with each breath.
As the aftereffects of his orgasm wore off, he began
unfastening her dress, slowly, deliberately. His dick
softened and he felt it slip free. She moaned, but
arched her back as his fingers played across her bra-
covered nipples. A moment later he reached into her
dress, his hands gliding along her sides toward her
back.
She scooted forward, the skirt of her dress hiding her
crotch. She kissed him, passion and heat mounting again.
They took off their clothes slowly, kissing and fondling
as they did. When he was hard again -- after what seemed
like an eternity -- she reached between them and gripped
his resurgent shaft.
With a smoldering look, she swung her leg over his hips
and set the tip of his manhood at her opening. They made
love slowly, their hands roaming as she worked herself
toward her own climax. After his mad rush and release,
Jack was content to lie back and relax as she pleasured
herself, using his dick as her instrument of choice.
He watched her silently. Her eyes were closed, her lips
pursed in concentration. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her
upper lip and forehead, darkening her hair where the
strands clung to her face. Her breasts heaved with her
breathing and the motion of her hips, her nipples stiff
and plump.
He cupped her breasts, teasing them gently. Her stomach
quivered, her climax imminent. He tugged and twisted her
nipples, driving her higher. He could feel her insides
clenching as well, fluttering with the first twinges of
her orgasm.
When she came, she tensed up, silent and red-faced as
she held her breath. She let it out with an explosive
gasp, falling forward, her breasts flattening against
his chest. A sheen of sweat coated her body, and they
slid together easily.
He rolled her to her back, his dick still hard within
her. He absently glanced at the bedside clock -- his
father-in-law and the boys should be home soon -- and
began to move his hips. His cock slid into her,
spreading her open and plunging deep.
She didn't react for several long moments, lying nearly
comatose, her hands resting lightly on his arms as he
held himself above her. His dog tags dangled between
them, swaying with each thrust. With an impatient
gesture he flung them around his neck. They landed on
his back and stayed there, stuck to his skin with sweat.
Susan opened her eyes. They were unfocused at first, but
quickly filled with lust as he pounded into her. Her
hips rose to meet his, filling the room with slapping
sounds as their sweaty bodies met. He levered his hips
up and hers fell away, only to rise again for his next
thrust.
Their bodies ground together and she grimaced in
pleasure. She was feeling the aftershocks from her
orgasm -- he could feel it in her pussy as well as see
it on her face. He quickened his thrusts, and her
breasts bounced with an erotic rhythm, nipples stiff
with arousal.
Finally, he buried himself as deep as he could and felt
the first surge of release. He didn't come as much as
the first time, but the pulsing sensations went on long
after the actual orgasm.
When he finally opened his eyes, he gazed down at her. A
welter of emotions -- love, anxiety, anticipation, fear,
and more -- passed between them silently. They didn't
talk about Vietnam. They didn't talk about David and
Beth. They didn't talk about anything at all.
Not with words, at least.
**
"So there we were," Jack said, sweeping his gaze over
his fellow pilots.
Most of them were holding beers, and all of them were
grinning from ear to ear. All but David. He simply
looked embarrassed. They were at a farewell cookout at
Don Scarlatti's house, the families' last chance to get
together before the squadron's deployment.
Jack's hands imitated two planes in flight. "We rolled
into the bombing pattern right after takeoff," he
continued. "You know how quick some of those sorties
are," he added, playing to his audience. "Well, David
was on my wing, about two hundred yards back."
Several of the men knew what was coming, since they'd
been there when it happened, but they still hung on
Jack's every word.
"I rolled in hot," he said, his left hand imitating his
plane, "and launched a pair rockets. Right on target, I
might add."
The others laughed at his boast.
"When I pulled up, I heard David roll in." He imitated
the radio call, "'Warhorse Five Two is in hot.' I looked
back to see how he did..." A pause to let his listeners'
anticipation build: "And the next thing I knew, all hell
broke loose."
David hung his head, and several men grinned at his
embarrassment. A group of wives were talking by the
sliding glass door, and Jack saw Beth look up, anxious
for her husband. Susan caught his eye as well, and shot
him a look of silent rebuke. He didn't quite ignore her,
but he continued his story nonetheless.
"Someone started shouting over the radio," he said.
"That was me," Don Scarlatti said. "I didn't want you to
get hit."
"Thanks for looking out for me, Skipper," Jack said,
grinning.
"Forget you," Scarlatti said. "Hotshot pilots are a dime
a dozen. I didn't want to fill out the paperwork to
requisition a new plane."
"Thanks," Jack said dryly, unfazed.
The men around him chuckled.
"So there I was," he continued, his left hand climbing
out after the firing run, "when this rocket goes flying
under my wing. I'm thinking, 'How in God's name did
David miss the ground?!'"
The other pilots howled with laughter.
"You're lucky he didn't kill you," someone called from
the back of the crowd.
"Only the good die young, Mr. Schmidt," Frank Waulk
said, to catcalls of agreement.
"When I saw the second smoke trail, closer," Jack
continued, "I started getting nervous."
"We'll have to ask your crew chief about your missing
seat cushion," someone teased.
Jack grinned, but continued. "The next rocket flew over
my canopy, not thirty yards away."
"That's when he started shooting at Skipper," another
man said.
"I couldn't stop," David finally said, speaking up for
the first time since Jack had begun the story. "They
were all gonna fire whether I liked it or not, so I
pulled my nose away from my leader."
"Yeah, you shoulda gone after the Old Man from the
start!"
"I heard that, Jerry," the commander said, pretending to
glare at Schmidt. Then Scarlatti grinned as he stepped
close and put his arm around David's shoulder. "I
thought young Mr. Hughes was going to blow me out of the
sky, but I knew he only had a couple of rockets left."
David smiled ruefully.
Scarlatti raised his beer in mock-salute to Frank Waulk.
"Only the good die young..."
"Then your time's coming, Skip," Jerry said.
"I'm not that old."
"Then why do we call you the Old Man?" someone else
called.
"Respect for your elders," Scarlatti said, a seasoned
veteran of pilots' banter. With a self-satisfied grin,
he arched an eyebrow at Jack, silently asking to pick up
the story.
Skipper's prerogative, Jack thought with only a trace of
resentment. He'd been in the Navy long enough to know
when to let the Old Man have his due, though, so he
smiled and made a by-all- means gesture.
"I dodged the first rocket," Scarlatti said, "but I
thought he had me dead to rights with the second."
David looked like he wanted to slink away.
"Fortunately, he got his nose pointed away from me,"
Scarlatti said, "and the last rocket flew downrange." He
grinned. "The Range Control Officer had a few choice
words, fit to blister paint, but I managed to smooth
things over with him."
"Lucky for you, Hughes!"
David grinned hesitantly.
"So all's well that ends well," Scarlatti said. "But,
Mr. Hughes," he added, glancing meaningfully at David,
"keep an eye on your fire selector the next time I'm in
the vicinity."
The pilots roared with laughter.
When they quieted, Scarlatti continued, playing to the
crowd. "I think now would be a good time to officially
christen Mr. Hughes with his new callsign."
Jack stifled a laugh. He knew what was coming, along
with every other member of the squadron. Jerry Schmidt
had coined the new nickname after David's mishap, and it
had stuck. David was no longer "Gator." Instead...
"Gentlemen," Scarlatti said, raising his beer, "Mr.
Hughes has demonstrated a reckless affection for Zuni
rockets. One might even call him a maniac." He grinned
impudently. "So from this day forward, he'll be known
as..."
Scarlatti let the words hang in the air, glancing at the
men around him, the men he'd soon lead into battle. At
his nod, the pilots shouted in unison.
"Zuniac!"
David tried to dodge the men teasing him, but there were
too many. They clapped him on the back and tousled his
close-cropped hair.
Jack smiled to himself. He might've been new to the
squadron, but he was an experienced officer who'd
demonstrated his abilities in the air and on the ground.
But David had been an unknown quantity, a potential weak
link. After his near-disaster with the Zuni rockets,
he'd redoubled his efforts on the bombing range, and had
improved more than any other pilot.
Even more to his credit, he hadn't tried to blame the
accident on an equipment malfunction. The other men in
the squadron respected that, and grew to like him
because of his quiet determination to improve his
bombing skills. With the new nickname, David had just
become one of them.
One of us, Jack silently corrected. We happy few...
**
"I think it's a nice callsign," Beth said on the drive
home.
David tried to glare at her, but he couldn't bring
himself to do it. Instead, he simply looked sullen.
"It's better than 'Don't Point That Thing At Me,'" she
said, hiding a grin.
That got through to him, and he couldn't avoid a rueful
grin.
"But I'm the only one who gets to say that," she added
in a quiet voice.
It was calculated to pique his interest, and he glanced
at her sidelong.
"I don't think I'll ever say it, though." She paused.
"After all, I like it when you point that thing at me."
"You wouldn't like it if they were laughing at you," he
said, holding on to his sullenness with both hands.
She slid closer to him, worming under his arm and
draping it over her shoulder.
"They weren't laughing at you, sweetheart," she said
earnestly. "They were laughing with you. You saw how
they treated you. You're one of them, as sure as Jack or
Jerry Schmidt or even the commander."
He glanced at her, unconvinced.
"Oh, come on, you big sourpuss," she teased. "You know
how callsigns work. The more you hate them, the more
they stick. You told me that yourself."
"Yeah, but I liked 'Gator,'" he said, his sullenness
making a last grab at holding on.
"That's why they gave you a new one," she said matter-
of-factly. "Besides, I like Zuniac." He started to
speak, but she cut him off. "I didn't mind having a
gator in bed with me. But a Zuniac...? Mmm. I like a man
who knows how to use his rocket." Her sexy teasing had
its effect, and his attitude began to improve.
"After you take the babysitter home," she said when they
pulled into the driveway, "you can show me your rocket."
With that, she ran her hand along his trousers to his
inner thigh. Then she brushed her fingers against his
crotch, teasing him.
She was waiting for him when he returned. None of her
lingerie fit, so she was wearing one of his uniform
shirts. It smelled like him, and she could already feel
herself getting wet. She still felt big and awkward, but
her arousal grew and she forgot about feeling
unattractive. She gestured to him with a crooked finger,
smiling as he drew near.
"Is that for me?" she asked coyly, glancing at the bulge
of his erection.
He grinned and stepped closer.
She unbuckled his belt, massaging his confined erection
as she did. "Mmm, show me your rocket."
He pushed his trousers and underwear down in one motion,
his semi-hard dick springing free.
She reached for him, his hips warm under her hands. He
shuffled forward and she captured the spongy tip of his
dick, inhaling his scent. He groaned softly and put his
hands on her head, forcing her closer.
She opened her mouth and took more of him. He grew
harder still, her lips tightening as his dick thickened.
She sucked gently, the soft skin of his shaft sliding
over the harder layer underneath. Then she pulled back
until she felt the ridge of his glans, her lips in a
tight "O".
She flicked her tongue against the tip of his dick,
feeling for the slit and teasing it when she found it.
She looked up, her eyes full of love. He smiled at her
and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. She
let his dick slide from her lips and then kissed the
tip, her eyes drooping closed as the kiss drew out.
Finally, she looked up at him again.
"Why don't we get comfortable," she suggested.
His eyebrows rose with a silent question.
"I thought I could give you a long, deep blowjob," she
said, swallowing at the sudden rush of moisture in her
mouth.
"Yeah," he said, almost reverently. Then he almost fell
over in his rush to shed his pants and underwear.
Beth stifled a laugh and watched him hurriedly unbutton
his shirt. His urgency was comforting.
Her eyes traced the sparse trail of hair leading from
his navel to his dick, which bobbed gently with his
heartbeat. She swallowed again, salivating at the
thought of taking him deep in her throat.
Beth had always enjoyed giving head, but she'd perfected
her skills when she was pregnant with Paul. She and
David hadn't discovered many positions they could have
sex in, but she always enjoyed sitting between his legs
and sucking him.
The position had another purpose, which Beth didn't like
to admit: it hid her belly from him, and made her look
like she wasn't pregnant. David constantly told her how
sexy she was, but she didn't always believe it. When she
sat between his legs, she felt sexy, because he couldn't
see how ungainly she was.
She knew she shouldn't be so self-conscious about her
body -- pregnancy was natural, after all -- but she
couldn't help how she felt. When she thought he couldn't
see how big she was, she felt better. So her
embarrassment had actually worked in her favor, and
she'd learned to take his dick all the way down her
throat.
At first, she'd simply wanted to swallow more of him
(she never imagined she'd be able to take his entire
length). But as her first pregnancy progressed, she grew
more self-conscious the larger she got. So she wanted to
suck him more often than she wanted him to make love to
her.
She quickly learned to take all but the last few inches.
Those were the hardest, though, since she couldn't
breathe with his dick down her throat. But by that time,
she was quietly determined to swallow all of him.
David had been amused at first. He knew he was bigger
than most men, but when he realized Beth was serious
about taking him all the way, he grew more enthusiastic
about it.
Finally, she managed to swallow him completely. She
vividly remembered his groan as she wrapped her lips
around the base of his dick. It had sent a thrill of
pleasure through her at the time. She still felt a
thrill whenever she took him all the way.
She smiled to herself now and settled between his legs.
She sat cross-legged, the most comfortable position with
her huge belly. She could sit there for hours, she
reflected, licking and sucking his erection. But she
knew he wouldn't last. Not the first time, at least.
Even after years of marriage, David still came quickly
the first time. He didn't go soft, though, and the
second time was always longer and more intense. After
she coaxed the first orgasm from his heavy balls, it
seemed as though he could go for hours.
She liked sucking him -- she felt powerful, in control.
And David wasn't so full of machismo that he wanted to
dominate their lovemaking. He let her direct things
sometimes, although he probably knew where they were
going all along.
She smiled to herself and absently teased the tip of his
dick, her hands resting on his inner thighs. A quick
glance up assured her that he knew exactly what she was
up to. She smiled again and opened her mouth, reveling
in the sensation as his dick glided along her tongue.
She closed her lips and breathed through her nose, the
smell of his manhood rich in her nostrils.
After several minutes of teasing, she began sucking in
earnest, taking more of him into her mouth on each
downstroke. He entered the back of her mouth, thick and
hard and hot. She felt the pressure on the walls of her
throat, her cheeks and lips tight as she stretched to
accommodate him.
She stopped breathing -- she couldn't breathe with him
filling her throat -- and forced herself down. When her
vision grew dim and she started to see stars, she pulled
back, fighting the urge to gasp. His shaft gleamed,
shiny with her saliva. She swallowed hard and took a
deep breath.
When she went down again, she slid her lips along his
shaft, her tongue caressing the underside ridge. Her
mouth was full, taut around his invading shaft, the
bulbous head pressing against her throat. She held her
breath and plunged down, inch by inch.
She paused for a moment, her lips wrapped around the
base of his shaft. Before her air ran out, she opened
her mouth and slowly forced her head down. Her throat
felt full and tight, tingling with the sensation. She
shivered with a rush of excitement when her nose pressed
into him, his wiry pubic hair crushed against her
cheeks, his balls warm on her chin.
She sucked gently and felt her eyes water. She couldn't
breathe, but she mastered her panic and sucked again. He
rewarded her with a grunt of pleasure. She sucked as
long as she could, her throat full, her mouth working
gently.
Finally, with spots before her eyes, she pulled back.
She tried not to rush, but the urge to breathe almost
overwhelmed her. After what seemed like an eternity, she
let his dick slip from her lips. She panted for a
moment, gulping air.
Then she kissed the tip of his dick and used it to
spread saliva over her lips and chin. He liked to watch
her play with him, and she made a show of things. Then
she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, ready to
swallow him again. This time was easier, since her
throat had already stretched to accommodate him before.
He groaned when she wrapped her lips around the base of
his shaft. He rested his hands on her head, his touch
light. He knew better than to try and force her, and she
smiled at his restraint. Once again, she held her breath
as long as she could, coming up for air only after her
vision grew dim.
At that point she lost track of time. She could feel the
molten wetness between her own legs, but she ignored it
and concentrated on giving David what he wanted. Her
head slowly rose and fell as she fellated him, his dick
filling her mouth and throat on each downward plunge.
"Oh, God," he groaned at last.
With a guilty blush, she realized that she'd been in her
own world, lost in the pleasure of sucking his dick. She
smelled his semen a moment before she felt the heat in
the back of her throat. She pulled back just in time,
and managed not to choke as the second gush flooded her
mouth.
Salty-bitter hotness washed over her tongue, filling her
nostrils with the smell as it filled her mouth with the
taste. She swallowed, the hot liquid soothing her raw
throat. A detached part of her realized that she'd have
a sore throat in the morning, but she didn't care. At
the moment, the only thing she cared about was pumping
David's dick, urging the last drop from his balls as he
groaned incoherently.
When he finally finished spurting, she pulled back, her
lips taut lest she lose any of his semen. She swallowed,
the taste changing from salty to almost-sweet as the
white liquid rolled over her tongue. She swallowed again
and licked her lips, tasting more of him.
"Oh, baby," he groaned, "that was fantastic."
She smiled to herself and kissed the tip of his dick. He
jerked as the sensation overloaded his senses, so she
kissed down his shaft toward his balls. She sucked them
for a moment, coaxing them from close to his body. She
could feel the warm wetness of his dick resting against
her cheek. The scent of him filled her nose, thick and
heavy and masculine.
"I want to eat you," he said from above her, and she
fought not to jerk upright in shock.
"I'm fine," she protested. She was still self-conscious
about her pussy, especially since she couldn't even see
it anymore without the help of a mirror.
"Sit up here," he said, undeterred. He stood before she
could react, his erection bobbing gently as he gazed
down at her.
He helped her stand and then turned her. When she felt
the gentle pressure at the back of her knees, she sat
down heavily. She tried to protest again but he silenced
her with a look. Then he knelt between her legs, his
erection bumping her thigh as he did.
A moment later he kissed her, careful to avoid putting
too much pressure on her belly. He ran his hands along
her sides, sending jolts of electricity through her. She
could protest all she liked, she thought, but her body
knew what it wanted.
David kissed his way down her jaw, making her gasp with
pleasure at his light touch. She gasped again when his
lips brushed over her neck, and she felt her pulse
flutter at the sensation. Lower and lower, until he
kissed her nipples, nipping and biting gently. They
hadn't been very sensitive since Paul was born, but
David's touch was deft and sure -- strong enough, but
not so strong that pain marred the pleasure.
After a moment he kissed her belly, his hands cupping
it, her distended belly-button a true button, long-since
pushed out. Her breathing grew erratic in anticipation,
and soon enough, she felt his shoulders between her
legs.
She stifled a frustrated moan when he began kissing her
inner thighs instead of her pussy. She tried to move her
hips, but he held her in place. She wanted him to kiss
her pussy. Her lips -- wet and hot with arousal -- slid
against each other as she squirmed.
She tried to guide his movements, but he was teasing
her. She cried out softly in frustration as his kisses
passed over her labia once again. Then she inhaled
sharply as he kissed the junction of her thigh and her
body. She quivered and swallowed hard, her chest
heaving.
Her clit practically throbbed with pent-up need, but
David avoided it. Instead, he kissed everywhere but
where she wanted him to. She was just about ready to
reach down and play with herself when --
She arched her back and clamped her eyes shut.
David continued sucking her clit, his lips tight and
warm and buzzing. She panted from the force of an almost
palpable wave of ecstasy. Pleasure surged through her
again as his tongue flicked against the sensitive little
bead.
He teased her with his fingers too, his touch sure and
smooth from years of familiarity. She moaned softly and
held his head in place as he sucked her clit.
Timeless minutes passed, and she felt her thighs begin
to tremble with the need for release. The first twinges
of orgasm fluttered through her body, and she gave
herself up as the tide washed over her. Heat and
moisture and pleasure flooded her senses, and she heard
herself cry out, as if from a distance. She felt herself
tense up, but the world was muted and hazy as she
floated on a sea of sensation.
As she finally came to her senses, minutes later, she
looked down her body, over her heaving belly. When she
saw David's face, though, her eyes flew wide.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
He swallowed hard.
"David?"
His shock vanished and he quickly composed himself.
Then, absurdly, he grinned.
"David... what?!"
"I think..." he said, glancing back at her crotch. Then
his grin widened. "I think your water just broke."
Her face went slack, and shock filled her as she
concentrated on the sensations between her legs and in
her belly. She hadn't felt any contractions, but --
"It did," he said, holding up hands that were wet from
her fluids.
She felt the first contraction then, hard and sharp.
He stood quickly. "We have to get to the hospital."
She fought not to gape; he was still hard -- very hard -
- and his erection was a comical counterpoint to his
urgency.
"Beth, let's go!"
It's not time, she silently wailed. Not yet! Not for
another three weeks! Frustration filled her. She was
having another baby early, and she was not amused.
"Don't worry about packing a bag," he said, dashing
toward their bedroom. He returned a moment later with
her dress and a bath towel. His hard-on had softened,
but it was still stiff enough to make her giggle.
"What's so funny?" he asked, with a flicker of
irritation. "We have to go."
She didn't mention the absurdity of the situation (or
his erection). She was still in shock, if only a bit.
Another contraction snapped her out of it.
"I'll call Susan to watch Paul," David said, reaching
for the phone.
"Put on some pants before she gets here," Beth said,
suppressing another giggle.
He looked at her as if she'd sprouted tentacles. A
moment later he shook himself and dialed the phone.
Beth laughed as she tried to clean herself up. She
wasn't happy that the baby had decided to come early,
but she'd resigned herself to the fact.
If the world gives you lemons... she mused irreverently.
Then she sobered. She was having a baby! Now! And here,
if I don't get a move on, she told herself.
Fear and amusement and pleasure and anticipation filled
her all at once. She stifled another giggle as David
shot her a dismayed look.
She composed herself and smiled placidly, partly to calm
him, but partly because it was the only thing she could
do.
Well, Erin, she thought at last, if you're ready, then I
guess I am too.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Congratulations, Mr. Hughes," Commander Scarlatti said,
shaking David's hand.
"Thank you, sir."
"His wife just had a baby girl," Scarlatti said to Frank
Waulk.
"So I heard," Waulk said. He turned to David. "Well, Mr.
Hughes, tell us about your little bundle of joy."
"She's beautiful, sir," David practically gushed. "She
was born at oh five thirty-five... seven pounds, twelve
ounces... nineteen and a half inches. She's got fine
blonde hair and blue eyes."
"Of course," Scarlatti said.
David looked puzzled.
"All babies have blue eyes when they're born," Scarlatti
said patiently.
"Oh, yes, sir. Of course."
"And what's her name?"
"Erin Rianne, sir. Named after my wife's grandmother."
With that, David remembered his cigars and passed them
out to the assembled officers.
Jack smiled graciously and accepted his third... no,
fourth cigar in two days.
Commander Scarlatti closed his eyes and inhaled as he
passed the cigar under his nose. Then he tucked it in
his breast pocket and turned serious. "Does your wife
have someone to look in on her while we're on cruise?"
"Yes, sir," David said. "Her mother's flying in
tomorrow."
"Good to hear. In the meantime, tell her to call Mary if
she needs anything."
"Thank you, sir."
"My wife's with her now, Skipper," Jack said.
Jack smiled inwardly at the thought. He didn't like
thinking of David and Beth as a project, but a candid
part of him admitted that they were just that. They were
friends -- good friends -- but he also hoped they'd be
more.
Unfortunately, he and David still had to deploy with the
squadron, and they'd be away from their wives and
families for nine months. Carrier Air Wing 14 sailed
with the USS Ranger in two days, and they would be
aboard, no matter what Jack wanted. He wasn't very
patient, but he was disciplined, and he'd already
resigned himself to the wait.
"Congratulations again, David," Scarlatti said. "And
give my best to your wife." Then he glanced at Commander
Waulk. "Frank, is 809 still grounded with engine
problems?"
The two officers shared a knowing look.
"Yes, sir, I believe it is," Waulk said.
David blinked, uncertain about the direction the
conversation had taken.
Jack understood exactly where it was going, and he
fought not to smirk.
"We should probably replace the engine while we have
shore facilities," Scarlatti said, glancing slyly at
Jack, including him in the ruse.
Waulk nodded, his face impassive.
"I don't think we'll be able to bring 809 with the
squadron when we fly aboard," Scarlatti said.
"No, sir," Waulk agreed.
Scarlatti pretended to think for a moment, and Jack
grinned when he realized that David still didn't know
what was going on. The man was obviously intelligent,
but sometimes he didn't put two and two together.
"Have Alvin requisition a new engine ASAP," Scarlatti
said, referring to the squadron's maintenance officer.
He tapped his chin. "Chief Ingersoll and his crew can
install it. The chief's wife just had a baby, correct?"
"Yes, sir," Waulk said. He glanced at his clipboard.
"The maintenance crew won't be able to finish the work
before we depart, though."
"No, of course not," Scarlatti said. He shrugged.
"There's no help for it. The chief and his crew will
have to come aboard on the COD flight."
Waulk nodded, stone-faced and serious. "We'll have to
detail a pilot to fly 809 itself, sir."
"Yes, I suppose we will," the Old Man said.
Jack had to bite his tongue not to laugh as the light of
comprehension began to dawn on David.
"This sounds like a shitty little job, Frank," Scarlatti
continued.
"Indeed it does, sir."
With an absolutely straight face, Scarlatti turned to
David. "Mr. Hughes, I'm afraid this onerous task falls
on you. That means you won't be able to sail with the
ship. You'll have to come aboard the day after the
squadron departs."
"Aye, sir," David said.
"See Lieutenant Commander Young about the maintenance
schedule. He'll detail Chief Ingersol and a crew to work
on 809."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Pass the word to Alvin and the chief, Frank," Scarlatti
said to Waulk.
Waulk cracked a grin for the first time. "Aye, aye,
sir."
Scarlatti nodded politely, dismissing them.
"Come along, Mr. Hughes," Waulk said. "Let's go break
the, ahem, bad news to Chief Ingersol."
As soon as the two men were out of earshot, Scarlatti
grinned at Jack. "Sometimes I love my job," he said,
gesturing toward a chair as he seated himself behind his
desk.
"Yes, sir," Jack said, grinning in reply. He took the
proffered seat and gazed across the desk as his
commander turned serious.
"I was impressed with your training plan at Yuma,"
Scarlatti said, "and I'm going to make you Assistant
Operations Officer. I've already talked to Commander
Featherston, and he's eager to get you up to speed."
Jack couldn't imagine Terry Featherston eager about
anything, but he nodded attentively.
"Once we shake down and start regular flight
operations," Scarlatti continued, "I want you to..."
**
Beth and her mother went with Susan and her sons to the
base to say farewell to the squadron. She nestled the
swaddled Erin against her breast while her mother held
Paul, resting him easily on her hip. Susan, Kirk, and
Doug stood nearby, the boys listening earnestly to last-
minute words from their father.
Jack crouched in his flight suit, his pockets bristling
with pens and pencils. His handsome face was grave as he
talked to his sons, and he looked like a recruiting
poster for Naval Aviation.
Beth felt a presence beside her and turned to smile up
at David. Unlike the other officers, he was wearing his
khakis. His expression was serious as he gazed at the
men preparing to fly their planes aboard the carrier.
The ship itself had departed the day before, amid a
fanfare of families saying farewell to departing
husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers. As the squadron's
most junior officer, David should have been on it with
them, but Commander Scarlatti had intervened. Beth
silently thanked the man for the two extra days he'd
given her with her husband.
She had tried to thank the commander in person, but he
brushed off her kind words with an embarrassed wave. Her
eyes misted at the memory, and she smiled at David
again.
"What's the matter?" he asked when he saw her face. "Is
everything okay? Is it too loud? Is the baby okay? Are
you okay?"
"I'm fine," Beth reassured him. "Erin's fine too. I...
it's nothing."
He frowned, but accepted her at her word.
Soon enough, the pilots said their final goodbyes,
hugged their wives and children, and climbed into their
planes. Down the line, the jet engines started with a
whine and a roar, and David ushered Beth into the
maintenance hangar, out of the sun and noise.
Susan remained on the tarmac with the other wives and
families. They watched and waved as the planes taxied
out to the runway and took off in pairs, fourteen in
all.
Beth turned to look at the fifteenth, the reason she had
two more days with David. The new engine was on a test
stand with the maintenance crew busily working on it.
According to David, they'd have it replaced by mid-
afternoon, so he'd be home for dinner at the usual time.
With a detached part of her mind, Beth listened to the
massed roar as the squadron flew over in formation, a
final farewell to the families. Susan joined her a while
later, smiling as she kept a watchful eye on Kirk and
Doug.
"C'mon, boys," David said, waving them forward and
including Paul with a gesture. "I'll let you sit in the
cockpit."
Beth's mother went with them, to watch after Paul.
"They're gone," Susan said quietly. A moment later she
composed herself and reached out to Beth. "Here, let me
hold Erin and give you a break."
Beth suppressed a momentary qualm at being separated
from her newborn daughter, but she let Susan take her.
All of a sudden she felt several days of exhaustion
catch up with her, and cast about for someplace to sit.
"Over here," Susan said, gesturing to a row of chairs in
the corner of the hangar.
The two women sat silently for several minutes. Beth
watched David and the boys, while Susan gazed at the
sleeping baby in her arms.
"She's so beautiful," Susan said quietly. "Are you and
David thinking about more children?"
Beth shook her head. "We wanted a boy and a girl, so
we're going to stop at two. I had my tubes tied while I
was in the hospital."
"Ah. I did the same thing, but I waited till a couple of
months after Doug was born."
Beth nodded.
"Is your mom going babysit while you and David go out
tonight?"
"No," Beth said softly, "we're going to have a quiet
night at home. Besides, David wants to spend some time
with Erin before he leaves."
Susan smiled. "He's a good man."
"He is," Beth said, her voice thick with emotion.
**
The next morning, David packed the last of his things.
His sea locker had already gone aboard the ship, which
was currently sailing west from Alameda.
"Susan offered to come with us to the base, Mom," Beth
said at breakfast. "So why don't you stay home and
relax."
"Are you sure?"
Beth nodded.
"Well," her mother said, "I don't know how much I'll
relax, but with you all gone, I should be able to do a
lot of cleaning."
"You don't have to do that, Mom."
"Just say 'Thank you,' dear."
Beth smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Mom."
"Don't mention it. I'll be here when you get back."
At the base the group walked onto the tarmac. A solitary
A-4 sat where fourteen others had been the day before.
Nearby, the COD aircraft sat ready, loaded with the
maintenance crew's gear and last-minute stores for the
squadron.
David held Paul as Beth cradled Erin. They stood very
close, neither of them feeling the need to speak. Out of
the corner of her eye, Beth watched Susan usher her sons
away to give them some privacy.
"I'll write as soon as I get settled in," David said
softly.
Beth nodded and felt her jaw tighten as she willed
herself not to cry.
"We won't reach our station till January. I don't know
how much time I'll have once we begin combat
operations..."
Her stomach knotted.
"...but I'll write as often as I can." He looked at his
watch and then glanced at the A-4. His erstwhile crew
chief was ready for him, and it was time to go. He
didn't know what to say, and fought not to look at his
watch again.
"I know," Beth said at last. "Time to go."
He nodded, his smile tight.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too."
They hugged once, careful of the children they each held
in their arms.
"I'll write as soon as I can."
She smiled and blinked back tears. The maintenance
crew's families were going through the same ritual near
the COD aircraft.
"I need to go," David said simply.
She nodded, afraid to speak lest she start crying.
He said a few serious words to Paul and then hugged him.
He set the boy on his feet and Beth drew her son to her
side. His hair felt silken under her fingers and she
concentrated on it, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
David leaned down and gazed at Erin's sleeping face.
Beth's chest grew tight when he gently pressed his lips
to the baby's forehead.
Beth and David shared one final, meaningful look and
then he kissed her. She savored the scent of his
aftershave, the caress of his lips, the warmth of his
breath.
After a long moment, he turned to his ground crew, once
again the naval officer and no longer the departing
husband and father.
Susan silently stepped to her side, her own boys in tow.
Beth watched David preflight his plane and talk with the
crew chief. Then he climbed the side of the jet and
settled into the cockpit. A moment later he went through
his final checklist and gave her a wave.
When he started the jet engine, the sound woke Erin, who
began crying. Beth absently comforted her, her eyes
fixed on David's plane. She watched as he taxied toward
the runway.
She didn't want to think about losing him, so she
concentrated on soothing her daughter. Paul, more
serious than usual, looked up at her and patted her leg.
"It'll be okay, Mommy," he said, and Beth felt the first
tears scald her cheeks.
**
Beth's father flew out, and her parents spent Christmas
and New Year's with her. Her mother was a godsend --
midnight feedings, dirty diapers, and trying to keep up
with Paul left her exhausted.
She was also worried about David, but his letters said
shipboard life was routine and a bit boring. Boring was
good, she reflected. Boring was safe. Boring would bring
him home in one piece. Beth had been to military
funerals -- they were heart- wrenching -- and she didn't
ever want to receive a folded American flag, "on behalf
of a grateful nation."
Susan was also a tremendous help. She got along famously
with Beth's parents, and her sons even came over to help
Beth's father with some repairs around the house.
Eventually, though, her parents had to leave. They had
lives of their own in Florida, and her father had to
return to his job.
The next few weeks were hectic and difficult. At first,
Paul was fascinated by Erin, as though she was a new and
wondrous toy. But when he realized that the pink little
girl wasn't going back to the hospital, and that she was
getting all the attention, his temper grew worse and he
began misbehaving.
Once again, Susan came to the rescue. Each morning after
her sons left for school, she drove over and helped
around the house. Paul was her shadow. He wasn't
tremendously helpful, but Susan kept him occupied so
Beth could care for Erin.
The two women also spent time with Peggy Schmidt, whose
due date was fast approaching. When it arrived, several
of the wives took turns caring for Peggy's older
children: two boys, three and six.
Jo Weigand's baby was due in early February. She was a
first-time mother and full of questions. Mary Scarlatti
was only too happy to help. Beth and Susan didn't agree
with all of Mary's advice, but they couldn't fault her
motives. Several other squadron wives helped as well,
and after Jo's son was born, their lives more or less
returned to normal.
Beth and Susan spent most of their time together. They
didn't avoid the other wives, but they weren't as
zealously helpful as Mary. For her part, Mary was happy
to lavish attention on Jo. Peggy had more than enough
experience with babies, though, and confided to Beth
that she didn't care for Mary's overbearing attention.
Phyllis Waulk even made an attempt at being friendly,
but when Susan, Peggy, and Beth didn't immediately side
with her against Mary, she lost interest. Beth even
overheard her call them "Queen Mary's Court."
Beth was just as happy to be rid of Phyllis's company.
She might not care for Mary's brand of full-time
support, but she definitely didn't like Phyllis and her
social-climbing clique.
"I don't see how you can put up with her," Beth said to
Susan during one of the few times when both Paul and
Erin were asleep. "I want to scream every time she
smiles her simpering smile and patronizes me. She's a
real -- " Beth stopped herself in time, but she did
think a few spiteful things about the XO's wife. "She's
not a nice person," she said at last.
Susan silently agreed.
"Ugh! I want to slap her every time she gives me one of
her condescending looks."
"I know what you mean. Luckily, my father taught me how
to keep a straight face when all I really want to do is
throttle someone." Susan chuckled at a memory. "My
father taught me a lot of things like that."
Beth looked a question at her.
"He wanted a son, someone he could mold in his image."
She smiled wryly. "Instead, he got me."
That must've been horrible, Beth thought, growing up
knowing your father wanted a son instead of you. She
started to commiserate, but Susan stopped her with a
grin.
"Oh, he quickly realized that having a daughter was a
rare opportunity."
"Oh?"
"Mmm hmm. He and my mother never really subscribed to
the whole 'women need to be cared for and sheltered'
attitude. So he never let my lack of a penis stop him
from teaching me about business."
They shared a grin at Susan's matter-of-fact choice of
words.
She continued, "He taught me about balance sheets,
quarterly reports, profit and loss statements... all of
it. He even let me help manage his investments, and by
the time I was fifteen I knew more about the stock
market than most men did. He also taught me less
tangible things about business, like how to deal with
people."
"Your father's an impressive man," Beth said, picturing
him from when she'd met him at Thanksgiving. He reminded
her of a kindly, gentle uncle, but she didn't doubt that
he was a man to be reckoned with.
"He is," Susan agreed. Her eyes grew distant, and Beth
knew she was thinking of her mother.
"Would you and the boys like to have dinner over here
tonight?" Beth asked, trying to derail her friend's
melancholy train of thought.
"What? Huh? Oh, no, thank you." She turned introspective
for a moment longer, but then brightened. "How'd you
like to go to dinner at a nice restaurant instead?"
"Go out?" Beth said, taken by surprise.
"Absolutely. My treat. You could use the break. So could
I, really. And it'd be nice to have someone else do the
dishes for a change."
"Sure!"
They chose a nearby steakhouse, with fine linen
tablecloths and dark wood paneling. Their waiter was a
bit snooty when he saw three children and an infant,
though, and Beth wanted to leave. The restaurant was far
too fancy, and she didn't want to disrupt the other
diners if Erin started crying or Paul threw a temper
tantrum.
Susan waved away her objections and pointedly ignored
the waiter's attitude. Instead, she acted like she owned
the restaurant, and Beth was surprised at how their
service improved. The waiter went from cold and superior
to downright deferential when Susan smoothly quizzed him
about the wine selection and specials.
Since they had the children with them, they were eating
earlier than the regular dinner hour, and the manager
himself stopped by the table as they finished their
meal. He chatted with Susan, while Beth mostly kept
quiet.
She smiled to herself as she watched the manager come to
the conclusion that Susan was hardly the average
military wife. Beth wasn't surprised -- growing up on a
vacation resort had probably introduced Susan to many of
the finer things in life. Beth's parents were hardly
poor, but they weren't nearly as wealthy as Susan's.
"What a lovely addition you are to our humble
restaurant, ma'am," the manager said at last, sighing
with genuine satisfaction. "And you too, ma'am," he
added, nodding to Beth. "Can I get you anything else?
Perhaps some dessert? Some ice cream for the children?"
Beth tried not to laugh at the eager expressions on Kirk
and Doug. Even Paul looked hopeful, his pudgy cheeks
aglow.
"Yes, thank you," Susan said. "Ice cream for the boys
would be nice."
"And for you ladies?"
"What would you recommend?"
He paused a moment to consider. Then his eyes flashed,
and Beth could see that he was working himself up to
impress them.
"I don't think I'm boasting when I say that our chef is
the finest in the city," he said. "He makes a
magnificent chocolate souffle with raspberry sauce. It's
lightly dusted with confectioners' sugar and served with
a sprig of mint."
Beth thought she'd eaten too much already, but her mouth
immediately began to water. Well, she rationalized, I am
still eating for two...
The manager smiled, long accustomed to hungry customers.
"A souffle for you, ma'am," he said to her, more
statement than question. He turned to Susan. "And for
you, ma'am?"
"Oh, the souffle, of course," Susan said.
The waiter brought three dishes of ice cream for the
boys, and the manager himself delivered the souffles.
"Enjoy," he said, setting them on the table with a
flourish. Then he smiled down at the women. "I hope you
don't think I'm being presumptuous, but I'd like to
offer you dinner on the house this evening."
"That's very kind of you. Your restaurant's reputation
is well- deserved." Susan flashed a smile, her eyes
sparkling warmly. Beth felt an immediate rush of heat
through her cheeks.
"You're too kind," the manager demurred, blushing
himself.
He looks like a little boy, Beth thought, stifling a
giggle. Then she rolled her eyes, imagining what she
looked like. Susan had a genuine, effortless charm, and
it captivated anyone she met.
No wonder Jack married her, Beth mused. Southern beauty
and gentility, and a keen mind for business? She snorted
softly to herself. If I were a man, I'd want to marry
her. Startled by her own thoughts, she dabbed at her
lips with her napkin, hoping to hide her deepening
blush.
Fortunately, Susan was still engaged in small talk with
the manager.
Beth wondered what she'd been thinking. She couldn't be
attracted to Susan. They were friends, but nothing more.
They couldn't be anything more than friends. Women
didn't do things like that. Despite her best attempts to
deny it, Beth knew that women did do things like that.
Her own sister had occasionally "done things like that."
Beth had had the opportunity, too. She and her best
friend in college had gotten drunk one night, and her
friend had begun taking off her clothes, asking Beth to
touch her. She hadn't, but only because her friend had
passed out before Beth could work up the nerve.
But she could vividly remember the delicate pink of her
friend's candlelit nipples, puffy with arousal. She
remembered the relaxed, disconnected feeling of being
drunk and on the verge of touching those nipples, her
hand trembling at the thought. She remembered the smell
of her friend's perfume and the smooth feel of her thigh
where their legs touched.
With a distracted headshake, she forced her thoughts
back to the present. Her cheeks were afire, so she
concentrated on the souffle, her head down lest Susan
see her flush and understand its cause. The manager had
taken his leave, but Beth didn't remember him going.
Nice women do not have sex with other women, she told
herself.
The souffle was rich and delicious, but she hardly
tasted it. Instead, she desperately tried to rein in her
imagination. But every time she caught a glimpse of
Susan, she felt a tingle race up her spine, prickling
the hair at the back of her neck and making her shiver.
"Are you okay?" Susan finally asked.
"What? Oh, I'm fine."
Susan eyed her.
"Um... the chocolate's very rich, isn't it?"
Susan smiled, and Beth got the distinct impression that
she'd chosen to accept the evasion.
"Mom," Doug asked, innocently coming to Beth's rescue,
"can me and Kirk go play outside?"
"May Kirk and I go play," Susan corrected absently,
before nodding. "Stay close to the front of the
restaurant, but don't block the door." She turned to
Kirk. "Watch after your brother, and don't run in the
parking lot."
"Okay, Mom," he said, collecting Doug with his eyes and
then practically jumping out of his seat.
They didn't run out of the restaurant, but they did move
as quickly as two well-behaved boys could.
Beth and Susan finished their dessert in silence, but
Beth's thoughts were awhirl with conflicting emotions.
She didn't want to think of Susan in "that way," but she
couldn't stop herself. She hadn't felt like sex for the
first six weeks of David's absence, and then with Peggy
and Jo's babies, she'd been too busy to notice. But when
things settled into a routine, her sex drive had
reawakened with a vengeance. With nothing to satisfy her
except her fingers and her imagination, her imagination
was fending for itself.
She tried to distract herself by scraping her plate
clean of the remains of her souffle. The fork pulled
against her lips as she practically sucked it clean as
well. She tasted the sweet of the confectioner's sugar a
moment before the bitter-sweet taste of the chocolate.
When it subsided she caught a hint of the raspberry,
tart and sweet at once.
She paused to savor the mingled flavors as the scent
lingered in her nose.
When her thoughts drifted to other flavors and scents --
feminine flavors and scents -- her eyes snapped open and
she forgot all about the souffle.
**
Later that night Beth lay in bed, unable to sleep. She
tried thinking about David. She even had one of his T-
shirts, deliberately left unwashed, the smell of his
aftershave mingling with the scent of him. She slept
with it sometimes, slipped over a pillow to fill it out.
She held it now, a poor replacement for a husband.
She thought about their last night together, sleeping in
his arms, the feel of his body behind her, hard and
muscular. Hers had been soft and full, her stomach still
flabby and loose from pregnancy. She'd hated her pooch,
and how she still felt broad and plump.
The pooch had mostly disappeared, but she still didn't
like the way she looked. Her hips were too wide, her
arms and thighs too thick. She didn't even want to think
about her breasts and how they sagged with the weight of
milk.
At the thought of milk, she listened for Erin, but the
house was quiet. She got up and checked on her
nonetheless. Then she quietly stuck her head into Paul's
room. Both children were sleeping soundly.
When she returned to her bed -- her empty bed -- she
pulled the covers up and sighed. She didn't look at
herself in the mirror very often anymore, and she didn't
like that about herself. She wanted to feel pretty
again, like Susan.
Susan was beautiful: slender and svelte, but curvy
through bosom and hips. Beth sighed -- she had looked
like that, once. She let her imagination wander for a
moment, but her thoughts eventually returned to Susan...
....at the restaurant, smiling as she talked to the
manager.
....at the base, a quiet presence as David's plane took
off.
....at the house, brushing away an errant strand of hair
as she laughed.
....standing in her doorway as she invited the newly
arrived Hughes family into her home and into her life.
Beth's eyes flicked open and she swallowed hard. After a
moment she closed them again and deliberately thought of
David, handsome in his sunglasses and flight suit, his
dark hair shining in the sun.
She thought of him as he'd held Paul, his expression a
mixture of love and sorrow as he said goodbye.
She thought of him at the hospital, the look of wonder
on his face as he held Erin for the first time.
She thought of him in a thousand different scenes, and
her heart swelled with love, warmth, comfort, and joy.
But her eyes snapped open again a moment later.
"Why can't I stop thinking about her?" she wondered
aloud.
The empty room didn't answer.
"What's wrong with me?"
Once again, the empty room didn't have any answers.
She held the shirt-clad pillow over her face, inhaling
its scent. She thought of David. But her thoughts
inevitably returned to Susan.
Why, why, why? She's a woman. I'm not like that. I'm not
a...
She couldn't even bring herself to think the word.
I like men, she continued silently. I like David. I like
David's dick... his big, thick, hard dick. I like
sucking him, tasting him. I like feeling him between my
legs, spurting inside me. Then, even more defiant: I...
like... men!
So why can't I stop thinking about a woman? she asked
herself. She didn't have any more answers than the empty
room did.
**
Jack finished his letter to Susan and stuffed it into an
envelope. He stacked it on top of envelopes addressed to
Kirk and Doug. His letters to them were simple and
straightforward: he asked about their school work, told
them to mind their mother, and told them he was safe
with his friends.
He paused for a moment and thought about how much he
enjoyed his job. An abstract part of him knew that he
was killing people, but they were trying to kill him in
turn. It was like a big contest -- who got the upper
hand, who had the best training, who had the best
equipment. He was on the winning side, and he knew it.
But in this contest the losers died. That thought didn't
bother him at all -- he was fighting for the right
reasons. Everyone in the squadron thought so. The Ranger
had been on Yankee Station most of February, and the air
wing's morale was high. Attack pilots were in short
supply, though, and Jack had flown twenty- two sorties
in the past month. He and his wingman, Jerry Schmidt,
had grown to know each other very well, and could
anticipate each other's moves.
David's confidence had grown by leaps and bounds as
well. As the most junior pilot in the squadron, he flew
as the skipper's wingman. When the Old Man didn't lead
the strike, David flew with the XO, or Ops. The senior
officers were seasoned veterans, and David had learned a
lot from them. As a side benefit, he usually attacked
the targets before they were obscured by smoke. Not
surprisingly, he had some of the best bombing results in
the squadron.
Jack felt proud when he thought about David and his
bombing technique. The younger pilot had also lived up
to his new callsign, Zuniac, and was deadly accurate
with the five-inch rockets. The other pilots in the
squadron no longer teased him about the name. Instead,
they said it with pride.
Still smiling, Jack scooped up his letters, along with a
fat envelope with rolls of film for Susan to have
developed. Then he headed for the ship's post office.
The squadron didn't have a strike scheduled until the
following morning. In the meantime, Jack was looking
forward to shooting the breeze with Jerry, David, and
Keith Olin.
He found them in the ready room. David and Keith were
playing backgammon while Jerry offered color commentary.
Jerry was the squadron's comedian, and had a wisecrack
for every occasion. His real name was Tom, but he was
one of the few pilots who went by his callsign instead
of his name.
He claimed he got his nickname because he was funnier
than Tom and Jerry, but Jack privately suspected a more
mundane origin: his German last name (not to mention his
blonde hair, blue eyes, and strong-jawed Teutonic good
looks). Whatever the reason, Jerry's wife was the only
one who called him Tom.
Along with Ed Cousins, Keith Olin was the squadron's
hound, their ladies' men. The two bachelors had cut a
swath through the local girls in Yuma, and were already
talking about their upcoming visit to Subic Bay.
"How's it going, y'all?" Jack said as he surveyed the
backgammon board. David had Keith neatly contained, and
would win in the next few rolls.
"'Y'all'?" Jerry asked with his nasal Midwestern accent.
"A yawl's a boat, sailor."
"I know," Jack said, grinning. "I learned to sail in a
yawl."
"Then you should know the difference between a yawl and
a man. The proper way to ask is, 'How's it going, you
guys?'"
"Not 'youse guys'?" Keith quipped.
"What? Do I sound like a New Englander?"
"You sound like a Yankee, that's for sure," Keith said.
Olin was from Kentucky, and his accent was even more
pronounced than Jack's. David had a fairly neutral
Florida accent, but he could speak like a good Southern
gentleman when he wanted to.
"A Yankee?" Jerry shot back. "Good God, no. A Milwaukee
Brave, maybe. But a Yankee? Never."
"Well, you sound like a Yankee to me," Keith said.
"Me too," Jack added, grinning.
"Me three," David said, clearing the last of his pieces.
He looked up at Keith and grinned. "Wanna try best four
out of seven?"
"Why do I play this game anyway?" Keith muttered.
David looked around for a challenger. Jerry immediately
shook his head. David offered the cup of dice to Jack.
"The usual stakes?" Jack asked. "Dollar a game?"
"Of course," David said, already laying out the pieces.
"You can pay in cash," Jack said, grinning cockily.
"Small, unmarked bills."
"Then you need to play Keith or Ed if you want to
actually receive any of those bills," David said.
"'Cause if you run with the big dogs" -- he rolled a
pair of sixes -- "you're gonna get bit."
"How's he do that?" Keith cried in amazement.
"I dunno," Jerry said, "but I've got five bucks that
says Jack limps away with teeth marks when this is all
over."
**
Jack did indeed limp away with teeth marks. He handed
over a five dollar bill and silently counted his
blessings. David had uncanny luck. Worse, he had enough
skill to make up for the times when his luck ran short.
"I'm gonna get some chow," Jerry said to the group. "You
guys wanna come with?"
"Yeah, sure," Keith said.
David shook his head. "Thanks, though."
Jerry's eyes swung to Jack.
"I think I'll pass," he said. "I'm not a fan of turkey
surprise."
"Neither am I," Jerry said, "but it's better than possum
surprise." He glanced at Olin. "Isn't that what you guys
eat down there in Kentucky?"
Keith rolled his eyes and half-saluted in farewell. "We
eat Yankees," he said dryly. "Raw."
"Raw Yankees?!" Jerry said as they walked off. "You mean
you haven't discovered fire yet?"
"I was gonna go watch flight ops for a while," Jack said
to David. "You wanna come with?" he asked, imitating
Jerry.
"With who?" David asked facetiously, seizing upon the
joke. "With... me? With... us?"
Jack shook his head, chuckling as they started up the
companionway. They laughed and joked until they reached
one of the many gangways surrounding the flight deck.
Jack turned his back to the wind, shielding David in the
process. The ship was cruising at better than twenty
knots, and the wind was brisk.
They stood well forward of the carrier's island and
watched the ordered procession of flight operations. F-
4s were launching from both bow cats, part of the
omnipresent Combat Air Patrol. Compared to Jack's A-4,
the twin-engine, two-seat fighters were massive.
The deck itself was awash with men in a rainbow of
colors: plane captains in brown shirts, aircraft
handlers in yellow, catapult crewmen in green, safety
officers in white. Other men in purple, red, and blue
worked among the planes at the waist of the ship. They
all moved according to a complex rhythm, with high-
pitched jet engines and the bang-whoosh of the catapult
drowning out all other sound.
Jack and David stood quietly for a while, lost in
thought. They'd both been in the middle of the chaos on
deck, but it never seemed so complex from the cockpit of
an A-4. When they were waiting in the launch queue, they
usually had a checklist to run through, their eyes
flicking over the instruments, monitoring the plane and
its systems. When they were preparing to launch, they
were busy following the precise directions of the
aircraft handlers.
Jack always had so much to do that he rarely noticed the
world outside his cockpit. Besides, he was usually
thinking about the strike, mentally going over the
briefing: radio frequencies, ingress and egress routes,
initial point, primary and secondary targets, and more.
"I don't know why I like coming up here," he said at
last.
"Order from chaos," David said, so quietly that his
words were almost snatched away by the wind.
Jack nodded.
"And I guess it gives me a sense of purpose," David
continued.
Jack glanced sidelong at him.
David shrugged. "All these people are here for one
reason... so guys like us can deliver ordnance to our
targets." He shrugged again. "Even the fighter jocks are
just here to protect us. And the ship, of course."
"Try getting one of them to admit that sometime," Jack
said.
David agreed with a grin, but then turned serious again.
They were silent for several minutes.
"Do you ever wonder what we're doing it for?" David said
at last.
"No."
"Not ever?"
Jack shook his head. But then after a moment, he
shrugged. "Maybe. Sometimes. But I volunteered. You did
too."
"I know I did, and I knew what I was getting into better
than you did. I mean, you joined the Navy in... what...
'58?"
Jack nodded.
"I'd never even heard of Vietnam in '58."
"Neither had I," Jack admitted. "But I knew I wanted to
fly. So here I am."
David nodded and fell silent again, still in a
philosophical mood. Left unchecked, he'd sink into
brooding.
Jack chuckled silently to himself. He'd never been
accused of being a dimwit, but he'd never been accused
of being a philosopher, either. He'd had a good
education and a good upbringing, and he had natural
ability, but he wasn't a deep thinker. He'd always been
too impatient, and he tended to leap into the middle of
things, trusting his quick wits to see him through.
David, on the other hand, thought about everything. That
had been his problem on the bombing range -- he thought
too much. He was a quiet man by nature, and analyzed
things before he did them. When he forgot to think about
a problem, though, he handled it instinctively.
And brilliantly, Jack added to himself. That's why he's
a holy terror with a Zuni rocket, and why he cleans my
clock every time we play backgammon.
Jack was naturally competitive, and he seldom lost. He
kept playing backgammon with David, though, despite
being completely out of his depth. He couldn't stop
himself -- he hadn't yet gotten used to someone being
better at something than he was.
Now who's turning philosophical? he thought with an
acerbic grin. "C'mon," he said aloud, "let's head
below." He looked up at the gathering clouds and smelled
moisture in the air. "The pressure's falling. Storm
coming soon. Tonight, maybe. By morning for sure."
"You think they'll cancel our strike?"
Jack shrugged. "Who knows? I'm just the delivery guy."
**
Jack lay awake for a long time that night. His
conversation with David had left him thoughtful and
pensive. Being an attack pilot meant that he killed from
a distance. It was a job, a series of switches, a V-
pipper, a release toggle. He went through the motions,
his plane lurching as the bombs kicked free from the
racks. And if he did everything right, he destroyed the
target.
The target. Not "the men on the ground." Not even "the
enemy." The target.
He never thought about the men on the ground, except
when he heard the warning tone of the threat receiver --
dedul... dedul... dedul -- or saw a string of anti-
aircraft tracers arcing toward his plane with malevolent
beauty.
When he did think of the men on the ground, he was
usually angry that they were trying to kill him, or one
of his friends. He wasn't immune to fear, but he didn't
dwell on it. It came with the job. If he thought about
it too much, they'd stuff him in a straitjacket and put
him on the first flight home.
He loved his job too much for that. So he let his mind
wander, from thoughts of the men on the ground to what
he wanted to do when their cruise was over. August would
arrive soon enough, and the Ranger would sail back to
the States.
He wondered how Susan was getting along with Beth. He
wondered if they'd even talked about swinging, or
anything even close. Susan hadn't mentioned anything in
her letters, but she assured him that she knew what she
was doing. He trusted her judgment (not to mention her
experience). Still, he was impatient to see her with
another man, impatient to have sex with another woman.
These days, his entire sex life revolved around his
right hand and a vivid imagination, and he yearned to
feel a woman's touch. The girls in Po City weren't even
his type. Besides, they weren't a challenge. For two
dollars and a couple of beers, he could have any of
them. So why bother?
No, what he wanted was more difficult, more time-
consuming. He laced his fingers behind his head and
stared up at the gray bulkhead.
Why can't I be like other guys? he wondered. Why can't I
be happy with a wife who loves me and sons who make me
proud? Why do I want more? What's wrong with me?
He pondered that for a moment. Was something wrong with
him, simply because he wanted to experience more from
life?
The steel bulkhead didn't have any answers.
Are David and Beth even the right couple?
David certainly wasn't a stickler for The Book. During
their first trip to Po City, he cheerfully helped a
half-dozen men avoid the Shore Patrol when a group of
destroyer officers tangled with pilots from the air
wing.
The men from the tin can had been scooped up, but the
pilots had escaped in a jeep David "requisitioned" for
the occasion. David simply drove to another bar, ditched
the jeep, and rejoined the party. He'd been the hero of
the night, and even the fighter jocks had bought drinks
for him.
He wasn't uptight or puritanical, either. He made jokes
and told stories with the rest of the pilots. He
eyeballed pretty women and flirted just as outrageously
as Keith or Ed. He never acted on any of the
opportunities, but he didn't shy away from the chase,
either.
Best of all, David was attracted to Susan. Talking about
another man's wife was strictly against the unwritten
code they lived by, but David had let enough comments
slip.
One night, after too many beers at a Po City bar, David
had leaned close and said, "You oughtta see Beth when
she's not pregnant. God, is she sexy... just like Susan.
Don't get me wrong, she's sexy as hell when she's
pregnant, but when she's thin...? Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm
the luckiest guy alive! But then, you know what I'm
talkin' about, Jack... you've got Susan."
After sharing that quiet, drunken confidence, David had
passed out with a smile on his lips. Jack, Keith, and
Jerry had carried him home and poured him into bed. Jack
had been pretty drunk himself, but he hadn't forgotten
the comment. Nor had he forgotten the look on David's
face when he passed out.
He knew that David would have never said anything if he
hadn't been drunk. Very drunk, at that. The man wasn't a
hound, and he wasn't about to make a move on another
man's wife. But he might be adventurous enough to
trade...
I hope so, Jack silently admitted. And if Susan thinks
Beth's the right woman...
Jack smiled to himself.
The bulkhead didn't smile in reply, but Jack didn't
care.
**
Winter slowly turned into spring. As the weather grew
warmer, Beth and Susan started walking in the mornings.
Beth had lost most of her baby weight, but she wanted to
look good when David returned. More importantly, she
wanted to look good for herself. She hadn't been happy
with her body for many months, and she wanted to feel
good again, to feel pretty.
So, with Erin in the stroller and Paul either walking or
being carried, Beth and Susan made a long circuit around
the neighborhood. They talked while they walked. Some of
their conversations were simple -- the weather, the
houses and lawns they passed, people in the
neighborhood. Other conversations didn't fit into one
category, but continued from day to day, ranging far and
wide.
Beth was surprised that two women from such different
backgrounds could be so alike. Susan hadn't traveled
much as a child, while Beth had never lived anyplace for
more than two or three years. Susan was an only child,
while Beth was the youngest of three. Susan's father had
groomed her to take over the family business, while Beth
was convinced that her parent's highest ambition was to
see her marry a Naval officer.
She had married an officer, but she told herself that
she couldn't help whom she loved. If that happened to
coincide with her parents' wishes, then so be it. But
she hadn't done it to please them (and she certainly
wasn't like Ginny, who often did things just to spite
them).
As the days passed and the miles fell behind them, Beth
grew a little happier each time she looked in the
mirror. Her breasts were still heavy with milk, but her
stomach was trim again, if not as trim as it had been
when she was nineteen. Her arms were slender and had
even started to show a little definition (she wanted to
be slim, not muscular). Her thighs no longer reminded
her of turkey drumsticks, and her calves were taut from
all the walking.
Unfortunately, she had to live with her hips. She'd
tried everything, from magazine "secrets" to a weird fad
diet -- she gave up the diet quickly, since she was
still nursing. Her hips used to be slender and almost
boyishly slim. Unfortunately, those days were long gone
-- giving birth to two children had seen to that.
An hourglass isn't so bad, she told herself one morning,
looking at her reflection. It's a classic figure.
She wasn't entirely convinced, though, and kept walking
in the hopes that her hips would magically return to
their college shape.
With the exception of her hips -- although they were
starting to look better -- she was happy with the way
her body looked. Even Susan commented on it, which made
her blush furiously.
Susan hadn't changed much at all, even after two months
of walking. She was still as slim and attractive as
ever. Beth smiled to herself whenever she saw the two of
them together in the mirror, though. They looked like
sisters now more than ever, one blonde, one brunette.
Aside from looking like Susan, Beth realized that she'd
begun thinking like her as well. They didn't have to
finish sentences sometimes, because the other just knew.
An arched eyebrow or even a slight frown did the work of
a half-dozen words. A wry smile and a half-voiced "Hmm?"
could mean anything from "Ice cream tonight?" to "Are
you thinking what I'm thinking?"
They had an easy, deep, abiding friendship, and Beth
took a lot of strength and comfort from Susan's company.
So she was surprised when they returned from walking one
day and Susan grew nervous. She was obviously working up
the courage to say something important, but Beth
couldn't imagine what it was.
"You know my father owned a vacation resort, right?"
Susan said at last.
Beth felt her brow furrow. "Of course."
"It wasn't your everyday resort, though."
"Oh?"
Susan shook her head.
Beth waited.
"It... it was actually a nudist resort," Susan blurted
at last.
Beth tried not to gawk. The revelation didn't surprise
her -- Susan's nervousness did. There must be more, she
thought, and composed her expression.
"We didn't wear clothes," Susan continued into the
silence.
Beth waited for the other shoe to drop. "And...?" she
prompted at last.
"And what?"
"And... is that it?"
"What do you mean 'is that it?'" Susan asked, confused.
"Is that it?" Beth repeated. "It was a nudist resort?"
"Yes."
"And that's what you were worried about telling me?"
Susan looked more puzzled than ever.
"It wasn't some secret Communist hotbed?"
"No."
"It wasn't built by slave labor?"
"No, of course not," Susan said. "My family never owned
slaves."
"It wasn't a front for the mob?"
"No."
All of a sudden, Beth laughed.
"I don't get it," Susan said.
"I thought you were going to tell me something serious."
"I am serious."
"Oh, I know," Beth soothed. "But..."
"But...?"
Beth shrugged. "I thought you were going to tell me
something really dark, really secret."
"I grew up at a nudist camp," Susan said with a touch of
hysteria. "I didn't wear clothes most of the time. There
were other people there. Boys. Men. They didn't wear
clothes either."
"So?"
"So? So I grew up at a nudist camp."
"What was it like?" Beth asked suddenly, surprising even
herself.
"You don't think that's... strange?"
"Heavens, no," Beth said, her laugh trailing off with a
sigh. Then she grinned wickedly. "I knew six or seven
girls in college who grew up at nudist camps."
"You did?"
"No, not really," Beth said, fighting not to snicker.
"But I don't think it's odd."
"You don't?"
Beth shook her head. Then she shrugged. "You've said
things," she said. "And... and you're comfortable with
your body... and the way you talk about... things." She
shrugged again, her cheeks heating. "I'm not surprised.
That's all."
Susan leaned back and released her held breath. "I
thought you might be shocked, or appalled, or... or
worse."
Beth laughed. "You know me better than that," she said
at last. "We've talked about everything from
breastfeeding to... to masturbation... from topless
sunbathing to our husbands' equipment."
Susan grinned.
"So what makes you think I'd be shocked that you grew up
at a nudist resort?"
"I don't know," Susan said at last. "I've just never...
I've just never told anyone before. Jack knows, of
course, but..." She shrugged. "It's not something I
share with many people. Obviously."
Beth smiled. "You could've told me months ago," she
said.
"I tried to," Susan admitted. "But I lost my nerve."
Beth rolled her eyes. Then she felt them grow keen as
she leaned forward. "So... what was it like?"
"What was what like?"
"What was it like growing up at a nudist resort?" Beth
asked, her voice full of mock exasperation.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Are you kidding? Yes! It sounds like fun."
Susan looked at her for a moment longer, trying to
decide if her sincerity was real or feigned. Finally,
she shook her head, nonplussed.
"Are you going to tell me, or not?" Beth asked. "If you
don't want to..."
"You really want to know...?" Susan said. "I guess you
do." She took a deep breath and then smiled diffidently.
She looked up again, uncertain, but quickly mastered her
emotions. "Where to begin? In the beginning, I guess.
Let's see... We went to our first camp when I was
seven..."
Susan talked for what seemed like twenty or thirty
minutes. Then she looked at her watch and jumped up.
"The boys'll be home any minute," she said. "I
completely lost track of time."
Beth looked at her own watch and felt her eyes widen.
The "thirty minutes" had actually been more than two
hours, and it was nearly three o'clock.
During that time, they had fed Paul and Erin, eaten
their own lunch, put the children down for a nap, and
cleaned the kitchen. Beth vaguely remembered doing all
those things, but her mind was still abuzz with tales of
Susan's teenage years -- tales of her changing body, the
boys at camp, the lakes and streams, the boys, hiking,
boys, and more.
Susan had had an exciting life growing up, and Beth felt
hers pale in comparison. She thought she'd led an
adventurous life? Fooling around with boys and
experimenting? Ha! Compared to Susan --
"I'm sorry," Susan said. "I need to go."
Beth jerked her thoughts away from Susan's past.
"I hate to chat and run, but..."
"Go," Beth said, smiling.
Susan turned to find her jacket, but then stopped
herself. Instead, she turned back and smiled. "I just
knew you'd understand."
They hugged and laughed.
"Of course I understand," Beth said when they stepped
back. She felt a flush creeping up her cheeks, but she
tried to ignore it.
"I knew you would," Susan said. She smiled, still in a
bit of a daze. Then she snapped out of it and glanced at
her watch again.
"Go," Beth repeated.
Susan smiled.
"I'm sure we'll talk more tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Susan said, smiling as she dithered with the
collar of her jacket. Her blue eyes sparkled with
warmth, and her breathing came a little quicker.
Is she blushing? Beth wondered in astonishment.
"Tomorrow," Susan said again, her grin turning silly.
When she'd gone, Beth leaned against the front door. Her
cheeks were afire, and she fanned herself with her hand.
"Oh, my," she said aloud.
Oh, my, indeed. She furtively looked at her watch,
wondering if she had time for --
She broke off at the sound of Erin crying. Her arousal
died as Erin's cries went from hesitant to insistent.
With a resigned sigh, she smoothed her dress.
Later, she promised herself. Later.
**
For the next two weeks, Beth and Susan went about their
lives. But Beth felt a connection she'd only felt once
before -- with David. Susan felt it too, and commented
on it.
"It's funny," she said. "When I think about something, I
want to tell you before I think about Jack."
Beth laughed. "I know what you mean. I was writing a
letter to David last night and I kept telling him things
that I'd tell you. I had to tell myself that he doesn't
care about all the things we do together." She paused
for a moment. "It's not that he doesn't care, but..."
She shrugged expressively.
"He has bigger things to worry about than whether we go
out to dinner or fix something at home."
"Exactly!"
"So what did you do with the letter?" Susan asked a
moment later.
"I threw it out and started a new one." Beth felt her
cheeks heating, and she grinned sheepishly.
"Oh?"
"I think he's going to need some time alone in his cabin
when he gets this letter."
They both chuckled.
"I sent Jack a real scorcher last week," Susan said. "I
was planning what I want to do to him when he gets
home."
"Mmm," Beth said, her thoughts wandering. A moment later
she sighed. "I miss David."
"I know what you mean."
"And it's not just his dick, although I certainly miss
that too." She felt her mouth water at the thought.
"Okay, I miss it a lot."
Susan sighed wistfully and moistened her own lips.
"Oh, my," Beth said at last, her cheeks flushed. "I'm
sorry," she said, several moments later. "What were we
talking about?"
"We were talking about David's dick," Susan said
facetiously, recovering herself. She held her hands
several inches apart and arched an eyebrow. "How big did
you say he is?"
Beth rolled her eyes, but then smirked. "Bigger than
that."
Susan spread her hands.
"Bigger."
Susan arched an eyebrow, but spread her hands another
half-inch.
"Bigger."
"Really?" Susan burst out. "Are you kidding?"
"I told you," Beth said, "he's pretty big."
"I'll say."
"Let's change the subject," Beth said.
Susan looked a question at her.
"If we don't, I'll get all hot and bothered, and then
I'll have to go take care of things."
"I just might join you," Susan said.
To Beth's utter shock, a quiet voice in the back of her
mind said, I'd like that.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jack watched the plane in front of him taxi into place
at the number one bow cat. Commander Featherston was at
the controls, flying as second-in-command of the day's
strike. It was their fourth in five days, and the
grueling pace of operations was starting to take its
toll.
The Old Man's four-plane flight had just finished
launching, and they were already climbing toward the
assembly point. David was with them, flying as
Scarlatti's wingman. Alvin Young and Keith Olin
comprised the second section.
The jet blast deflector rose from the deck, protecting
Jack's plane as Featherston prepared to launch. Jack
looked to the left, at the sailor who held the board
with Jack's estimated takeoff weight written in precise
chalk numerals. It was within fifty pounds of his own
preflight calculations, so he flashed the sailor a
thumbs-up.
Featherston's aircraft suddenly leapt forward in a roar
of noise and steam, racing down the deck. The plane
sprang into full view a moment later, airborne and
already banking to the left. Out of the corner of his
eye, Jack saw the number two bow cat fire, launching Bob
Weigand.
The blast deflector sank to the deck and Jack taxied
forward, guided by hand signals from the flight
director. He braked to a stop and watched the green-
shirted crewmen scoot under his plane to attach the
catapult bridle. At the director's signal, Jack gently
released his brakes and felt the shuttle tug the bridle
taut -- the plane was held in place by the tension bar
alone.
Jack made a final control check and then met the eyes of
the catapult officer. The shooter gave him a signal and
Jack ran his throttle to the stops: full military power.
He flashed a thumbs- up and then saluted. The plane
roared and shook at full power as he awaited the
shooter's pleasure.
The launch came as a surprise -- it always did. One
moment Jack was staring down the deck at the ocean
beyond, the next he was violently slammed into his seat,
his vision blurred by the G- forces of the launch. Just
as suddenly, he was airborne. The stick came aft before
his vision cleared, but he gripped it automatically. His
eyes focused a moment later, and he banked to follow the
curving flight path of Featherston and Weigand.
Jack didn't look back, but he knew that Jerry Schmidt
was behind him, already tucking into loose formation.
They joined up with the other planes. Scarlatti's flight
was topping their fuel tanks at the orbiting tanker. The
planes tanked in pairs, so Jack and Jerry were the last
to finish.
They established their strike formation and headed
toward the coast, toward Vietnam. They were still "feet
wet" -- over the ocean -- when they received a call from
the EC-121 Super Constellation orbiting over the Gulf of
Tonkin.
"Legion Zero One, Daffodil Seven Seven," the controller
in the Super Connie said. "Abort your current mission
and contact Mayfly Five Niner on Uniform, button four.
Mayfly needs close air support, ASAP."
Mayfly Five Niner was the callsign of a forward air
controller flying somewhere over South Vietnam. Jack's
thoughts grew predatory -- their routine mission had
just turned interesting.
"Roger, Daffodil," Scarlatti said, "copied all."
The members of the flight were all combat veterans, so
they didn't need to be told to switch their radios to
button four.
After a suitable pause, Scarlatti broadcast on the new
frequency, "Legion flight, check in."
"Two," David said immediately.
The other pilots answered by the numbers.
Jack said "Seven" when it was his turn, and Jerry
finished with "Eight."
A moment later Scarlatti called, "Mayfly Five Niner,
Legion Zero One on Uniform."
"Hello, Legion Zero One, Mayfly Five Niner here. Glad to
have your help this morning. I have troops in contact,
American wounded. The bad guys are suspected regular
NVA..."
Mayfly gave his location and a quick rundown of the
situation on the ground: units of a Marine battalion had
encountered stiff resistance from enemy elements near
the village of Dong Ha. Dustoff helos were already en
route to evacuate the wounded, but they needed tactical
air cover to suppress enemy fire.
When Mayfly finished, he asked for Legion's lineup.
"Flight of eight Scooters," Scarlatti said, using the A-
4's nickname. "Each has six Mark 82 slicks, eight Zunis,
and two hundred rounds of twenty mike mike. Be advised
we're heavy, and will have to dump fuel, so we won't be
ready to roll in for about five."
"Copied all, Legion. Your targets are enemy troops along
the tree line running east-west." With that, he gave the
target elevation and altimeter setting.
"Initial attack heading will be east to west," Mayfly
continued. "Friendly forces will be at your nine
o'clock, one hundred and fifty meters south of the tree
line. Your emergency bailout heading will be one eight
zero degrees. I want Zuni rockets all along the tree
line. Save your Mark 82s for any dug-in targets. I will
be orbiting south of target at angels one point five. Do
you have me in sight? How copied?"
"Copied all," Scarlatti said. "Don't have you in sight
yet. Give me your beacon... ah... tally, there it is."
To the rest of the flight: "Legion flight, you heard the
man: let's turn 'em on, set 'em up, and stick it to 'em.
Wagon wheel left."
Jack grinned to himself with barely suppressed
eagerness. Then he banked to follow Weigand's plane as
the flight shook itself into a loose circular formation.
"Legion's ready when you are, Mayfly," Scarlatti said at
last.
"Legion flight, Mayfly in with smoke... now!"
Fifteen seconds later the marker rocket exploded in a
chrysanthemum blossom of white phosphorus.
"Roger, Mayfly, I have the smoke," Scarlatti called.
"Legion One is in hot from the east, FAC in sight."
A moment later his plane rolled inverted and dived for
the deck.
Jack split his attention between following Weigand and
watching Scarlatti's attack run.
The tree line erupted with green tracers. Most were from
small- arms fire, ineffective above two thousand feet.
But several tracer streams were from 23mm guns. Those
were effective above two thousand feet. Worse, two other
lines of tracers were tracking Scarlatti's dive.
A cool, detached part of Jack's brain identified them as
37mm guns, probably radar controlled. Sure enough, his
radar warning light flared to life and pulsed an angry
red, the alarm warbling in his headphones. Unlike the
small arms fire, the bigger guns were a significant
threat. The gunners had been lying low when the FAC made
his smoke run, saving the surprise for when the attack
jets rolled in.
Serious anti-aircraft fire was usually sparse in the
South, and Jack realized that the enemy troops must be
more than a single battalion. He watched with a
sickening lump in his stomach as the 37mm tracers
converged sinuously. Scarlatti tried to jink, but the
guns' radar had him locked up. A gout of fire erupted
from his plane.
"One's hit," he called, his voice absurdly calm.
His plane was still flying, but the tailpipe belched an
ugly trail of smoke and flames as he banked to the south
and pulled into a shallow climb.
"Punch out, One, you're on fire," someone shouted, his
voice high with panic.
Several others echoed the call.
"My controls just went to hell," Scarlatti said, as if
he hadn't heard the frantic radio calls. "I still have
power, but -- "
A burst of static cut off the rest of his words.
Jack's breath caught in his throat as Scarlatti's
aircraft exploded in a shower of burning fragments. The
largest piece, the engine, turned lazy cartwheels with
flames trailing behind it.
"Did anyone see him eject?" someone asked.
The radio was ominously silent.
Jack scanned the sky for any sign of Scarlatti's
parachute. He strained against his harness to get a
better view.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Jack heard his own breathing in his ears.
His heart hammered in his chest.
He didn't see anything below him, except the patchwork
of fields and jungle. His eyes darted back and forth,
scanning, searching, desperately --
"Got 'im!" David shouted.
The radio erupted with chatter: "Where?" "I don't see
him." "What bearing?"
"South of the tree line, over that L-shaped field to the
west."
"I see him," someone else said.
Jack tried to lift out of his seat, his helmet pressed
against the canopy as he searched for the small white
dot of Scarlatti's parachute. When he saw it, he let out
an explosive breath.
"What the hell?!" someone called. "They're shooting at
him!"
Sure enough, several streams of tracers had erupted from
the tree line.
"Two's in hot," David called, as calm as if he'd just
told them the time of day.
"Negative, negative, Legion Two," Mayfly said quickly.
"The tree line's too hot."
David didn't answer. Instead, he hurtled at the ground.
The Vietnamese gunners shifted their aim to him, the
tracers searching malevolently. David jinked to confuse
their tracking, his plane prancing like a skittish colt.
But the radar-controlled guns followed spitefully, and
Jack watched as the tracers reached for David, as if in
slow motion.
David steadied for less than a moment, timing it
perfectly. Four gray-white smoke trails erupted from
under his wings. He rolled and pulled hard, to get under
the big guns' tracking arc.
The eastern stream of 37mm tracers abruptly cut off when
the gun died in an explosion of fire and smoke and
splintered tree limbs.
"Legion Two, Legion Two, break off," Mayfly called. "A
flight of Huns just arrived with snakes and napes. They
can suppress the whole tree line."
Jack quickly glanced up, searching for the newly arrived
F-100s. He chuckled mirthlessly -- their napalm would
keep the NVA gunners' heads down for sure.
"Negative, Mayfly," David said, his voice hard but calm
as he banked around for another run. "I got it."
The tree line lit up again, 23mm tracers filling the
air. The remaining 37mm gun spurted deadly fire as David
steadied.
Jack watched in tense silence, adrenaline making his
skin tingle as a new gun opened fire. It was bigger and
more dangerous -- a 57mm cannon -- but David didn't
break off. Four rockets flashed from under his wings.
"And the horse you rode in on," he said, deadly calm.
Jack glanced at the ground and saw the tight group of
smoking craters. David's rockets had bracketed the anti-
aircraft mount, wrecking the gun itself and killing the
crew.
"Legion Two, break off and return to station," Mayfly
barked. "Legion flight, who's in charge up there?"
"Legion Five," Featherston called, his voice as steady
as ever.
"Are you gonna call your guy off?"
"He seems to be doing a pretty good job," Featherston
said.
Someone chuckled.
Jack felt his cheeks pull tight in a grin. Featherston
was a by- the-book officer, but he was an attack pilot,
and his commander had just been blown out of the sky. He
obviously wanted revenge as much as the rest of them
did.
"Mayfly, Legion Two," David called, sounding irked.
"While y'all are chatting, I'm gonna take out that third
gun."
"Negative, Legion Two," Mayfly said. "Break off. Repeat,
break off, and--"
"Sorry, Mayfly," David interrupted, "but my radio
might've taken a hit on that last run. In case you can
hear me..."
Jack snorted at the obvious fiction.
"...I have a good fix on the last triple-A cannon. I'm
gonna drop a pair of Mark 82s on 'em, see if that
doesn't teach 'em not to shoot at parachutes."
"Mayfly, Legion Five," Featherston called, preempting
the controller. "We'll attack in sequence when Legion
Two clears the target area."
"That's a rog, Legion Five," Mayfly said, sounding
resigned. "Unload the Zunis. Light up the whole tree
line."
Jack took his eyes off David's plane and turned to
business. He thought about Commander Scarlatti for a
brief instant, but Mayfly had already sent a call for
Search and Rescue.
A moment later Jack was surprised to hear Mayfly talking
to the leader of Lobo flight, a group of F-4 Phantoms.
He hadn't even heard them report their arrival. After
Mayfly finished with them, a group of A-4s called in,
Sunliner Six One and three friends. Mayfly was stacking
them up at thousand-foot intervals, ready to throw
against the enemy as soon as the remainder of Legion
flight cleared the target area.
Just then, Jack heard David's voice over the radio.
"Mayfly, Legion Two, the third gun's out of action.
Nothing but twenty-three mike mike and small arms down
there now. I've got four more Mark 82s. Where do you
want 'em?"
"Hold for now, Legion Two," Mayfly said. "Legion Five is
ready to commence his attack."
As if on cue, Featherston called that he was rolling in
hot. Fifteen seconds later Bob Weigand followed. The
tree line erupted with 23mm fire but then disappeared
behind deadly orange-black blossoms as the rockets
struck.
"Legion Seven, rolling in hot," Jack called.
He vision narrowed and he ignored the streams of tracers
arcing up at him. A shameful part of him was glad that
David had silenced the most dangerous guns, but he
immediately put the thought out of his mind. Instead, he
concentrated on his attack run.
The tree line slid under the V-pipper and he steadied
his tracking. Time stood still as he unconsciously
calculated a thousand little variables about his
aircraft and its trajectory. He sensed the right moment
a half-second before the bombing computer did.
Eight Zuni rockets rippled from their launchers in
sequence. Jack wasn't quite the artist David was, but
the rockets were on target. He pulled into a climbing
turn and looked back to watch Jerry Schmidt launch his
rockets. Legion Three and Four attacked last, adding to
the destruction along the tree line.
"Mayfly to all units, did anyone see where Legion One
landed?"
"Mayfly, Legion Two," David said. "Legion One landed in
that field about a thousand meters east of the horseshoe
bend in the river."
"Roger, I see him," Mayfly said. A moment later: "Oh,
shit. He's got bad guys headed his way."
"Motherfuckers!" David snarled. "Two's in hot."
Jack felt a rush of amazement and craned his neck to
watch as David's bombs blew huge craters in the field.
The swarm of enemy troops halted in confusion, the
ground strewn with bodies.
"Mayfly, Legion Two," David said, still fuming, "I'm
gonna make a cannon pass."
"Roger, Legion Two," Mayfly said, no longer arguing.
"Fire 'em up."
Once again, the tree line erupted with hostile fire, but
David didn't even bother to jink. He was concentrating
on his firing run, red-orange tracers squirting from his
wing roots in controlled bursts.
"Holy shit, look at 'em run," someone half-shouted.
Jack immediately rolled his plane to see what had
happened.
"What did you do, Legion Two?" Mayfly asked.
"I dropped my empty rocket launchers on 'em," David said
with grim satisfaction. "I think I got a couple, too."
Jack burst out laughing. He could imagine the enemy
troops panicking when the mysterious cylinders came
hurtling out of the sky, plowing through their midst.
Sure enough, the NVA soldiers were running from the
field.
"Mayfly, Legion Two," David said. "I still have some
cannon rounds if they decide to come back. And I have
two Mark 82s if the little gook bastards really need
persuading."
"You just hold on to 'em, Legion Two," Mayfly said, the
hint of a laugh in his voice. "And if you don't mind,
let me get back to running this show."
"Oh," David said, sounding abashed. "Um... sure. I mean,
roger, Mayfly."
"Mayfly, this is Sandy Lead," another voice called. "You
ordered a pick-up?"
Jack smiled at the Sandy pilot's studied calmness. The
Sandies were piston-engine aircraft, and usually
escorted Search and Rescue helos. They could loiter on
station long after the fuel- hungry jets reached bingo
fuel. They also carried a staggering amount of ordnance
-- more than enough to keep the enemy at bay while a
helicopter extracted the downed pilot.
"I don't know if we're gonna need you, Sandy," Mayfly
said. "It looks like our guy might make it to friendly
lines."
Jack couldn't see for himself -- he was far too high by
now -- but he heard David's jubilant whoop a moment
later.
"Yeah," Mayfly said, "he made it to the Marines. He's
safe for now."
"Well... since we're here," Sandy said, "and since the
bad guys were kind enough to show up..."
With a low, evil chuckle, Mayfly agreed, and resumed
directing the battle from the air.
The seven remaining Warhorses formed up several miles
away. They switched their radios to another channel and
had a quick discussion about remaining fuel and
ordnance.
"Um... Five, this is Two," David said uncertainly. "I
think I've got a problem."
"Let me look you over, Two," Alvin Young interrupted. A
moment later: "You've got two big holes in your
starboard wing, and your horizontal stabilizer's missing
about two feet from the starboard leading edge."
Young swung his plane under David's and continued his
damage assessment. "You've got fluid coming from several
holes in the fuselage, and a gaping hole in the port
wing, near the root. I count one, two, three, four..."
He trailed off. "How many times were you hit, Two?"
"Um... I don't remember being hit at all," David said.
"Although my leg hurts like hell, so something must've
hit me."
Jack could almost hear Young shaking his head in wonder.
"Uh-oh," David said a moment later. "I've got another
problem."
"What?" Young asked, his voice calm and deliberate.
"I just lost my primary hydraulic sys -- correction, I
just lost both hydraulic systems."
"That would explain the fluid coming from your
fuselage," Young said, with more than a trace of irony.
"Disconnect your boost package."
"Yes, sir," David said. "And... um... sir, my RAT just
popped out."
Jack jerked his head in alarm. The ram-air turbine
automatically deployed to provide power when the plane's
electrical system failed. If David had lost both
hydraulic systems and electrical power...
"Two, pickle your racks and head for the beach,"
Featherston snapped immediately. "Who's lowest on fuel?"
"Six," Weigand piped up, "I took a hit on that last
pass. It's not bad, but I'm losing fuel from my wing. I
still have fuselage fuel, but..."
"Right," Featherston said. "Six, escort Two back to the
coast. Try to make the ship if you can, but keep an eye
on your emergency fields. If you have to eject, Two,
make sure you're feet wet when you do. Take care of him,
Six."
"Aye, aye," Weigand replied.
"Good luck and Godspeed," Featherston said at last.
The two planes peeled from formation, heading toward the
coast and safety.
With that, Featherston had the remainder of the flight
switch back to Mayfly's frequency.
"Mayfly, Legion Five," he said.
"Go ahead, Legion Five."
"Legion has five planes with ordnance remaining -- six
Mark 82s apiece, plus twenty mike mike -- and we'd like
a little payback."
"Affirmative, Legion Five," Mayfly said. "The battle on
the ground has spread out, so I want you to..."
**
The two planes made it back to the carrier, but David's
was so badly damaged that Lieutenant Commander Young
declared it a combat loss and ordered it stripped for
parts. Jack and several other pilots were on the hangar
deck as Young and his maintenance chiefs counted the
holes in the aircraft: nine major ones, with another
forty from small arms fire and shrapnel.
One of those pieces of shrapnel had actually gouged a
furrow across David's calf. The wound wasn't deep, but
it was painful, and he'd nearly tumbled to the deck when
he tried to climb down the side of his plane.
When David limped back from the sickbay, Young told him
about the extent of the damage to his aircraft. David
turned ashen-faced and promptly bent over a nearby trash
can to throw up. No one said a word. The other pilots
simply looked at each other, their faces hard, eyes
tight with understanding.
**
Jack lay awake for a long time that night, with streams
of green tracers playing behind his unseeing eyes. David
had dived into that maelstrom three times. And then he'd
braved the still-heavy fire to make two more attack
runs.
Jack laced his fingers behind his head and asked himself
-- for the umpteenth time -- if he would've done the
same thing. The gung-ho part of him said yes, but
visions of Susan and the boys loomed in his mind's eye.
Had David thought about Beth? Had he thought about Paul
and Erin? Had he even thought about himself?
Jack knew fear. He felt it every time he attacked into
ground fire. He felt it when the radio erupted with SAM
warnings. And he felt it during night landings, when the
carrier was a mere ghost of half-imagined lights in the
distance. But he always conquered his fear and did his
duty. Still, he wondered what kind of courage it took to
make repeated attacks into overwhelming fire.
Did he have it?
He thought he did, but in the silent darkness of his
cabin, he wasn't so sure. The thought gnawed at him
until he fell into a dreamless, troubled sleep.
He woke the next morning and put thoughts of fear out of
his mind. The squadron had to fly a strike, and he
wasn't about to let the other pilots shoulder the burden
alone.
Unfortunately, the flight surgeon had grounded David
because of his leg wound, and the doctors in Da Nang
still had Commander Scarlatti. So the XO led the
squadron on a strike against a "suspected ammo dump."
They didn't take any ground fire, and didn't observe any
secondary explosions. Jack cynically wondered who'd
planned the mission, but he kept his mouth shut.
The skipper returned to the ship that evening. He was
scraped and bruised, but no worse for his ejection and
near-brush with the North Vietnamese Army. He was half-
full of medicinal brandy, though, and retired to his
stateroom after a brief word with David and then
Commander Waulk.
The mood in the squadron ready room was mixed: happy to
have the Old Man back, but upset over the day's
pointless mission. Jack played a half-hearted game of
backgammon with David, losing three dollars in the
process. When he retired to his cabin, he re-read
Susan's latest letter and then added to the serial
letter he planned to send the next day. He looked up at
a knock on his door.
"Come in."
The door opened and Jack rose at the sight of Commanders
Waulk and Featherston.
"As you were," Waulk said.
The cabin wasn't large, and the three men filled it
completely. Waulk shut the door and glanced at
Featherston, who was as taciturn as ever.
"I'll get right to the point," Waulk said at last.
"Commander Scarlatti wants to recommend Ensign Hughes
for the Silver Star. But the commander doesn't consider
himself an impartial witness, so he asked me to take the
lead."
Jack blinked in surprise.
"Since I wasn't there in person, I'm talking to the
section leaders who were," Waulk continued. "And my
question is this: do Mr. Hughes's actions constitute
'gallantry in action,' or simple recklessness?"
Jack snorted softly. "What gallantry isn't reckless?
They don't exactly hand out Silver Stars for tending to
your knitting, sir."
"A good point," Waulk said. "But was Mr. Hughes acting
out of disregard for his own safety, or was he simply
ignorant of the danger?"
Jack felt his expression harden as he bit back a
sarcastic answer. "You've flown with him," he said at
last. "He may not be Einstein when he's on deck, but put
him in a plane and he's sharp. Real sharp. Hell, he's
better at getting ordnance on target than most of the
guys in the air wing, much less the squadron. You know
that, Frank."
Waulk looked up sharply at the use of his first name,
but nodded at the truth of Jack's words.
"So, do I think David's actions constitute 'gallantry in
action'?" Jack asked, repeating the semi-official
question. He tossed his head dismissively. "No question,
sir... they do." He turned to Featherston. "You saw that
ground fire, Terry. Would you have flown into it? Five
times?"
Featherston's heavy silence was answer enough.
Waulk rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Then he turned to
Featherston. "Write up your account, Terry," he said
softly. He turned back to Jack. "Write up your account
of the events, Lieutenant, and have it on my desk by oh
nine thirty tomorrow.
I've asked Lieutenant Commander Young to--"
"What did he have to say?" Jack interrupted.
Waulk didn't answer.
For once, Terry Featherston grinned. It was lopsided and
a bit doleful, but a grin nonetheless. "Alvin wanted to
recommend him for the Navy Cross," he said at last.
Jack blinked in amazement. The Navy Cross was the second
highest award in the Navy, second only to the Medal of
Honor.
"Mr. Young might have been... unduly impressed... by the
amount of damage Mr. Hughes sustained during his
attacks," Waulk said. He snorted and said in an
undertone, "It's a miracle the kid wasn't killed."
Jack nodded.
"In any event," Waulk continued with the voice of
authority, "I agree that Mr. Hughes's actions are worthy
of commendation."
Jack nodded. "I'll have my report on your desk first
thing in the morning, sir."
"Good," Waulk said curtly, nodding.
With that, the two men left, leaving Jack to stare at
the closed door.
**
A week later, a strike near the Thanh Hoa bridge turned
into a disaster: Keith Olin was hit by anti-aircraft
fire during his attack run. His damaged electrical
system sparked a fuel leak and his plane caught fire. He
ejected, but the other pilots watched in growing alarm
as his parachute drifted toward a hill in the midst of a
concentration of enemy troops.
For half an hour, the pilots did everything they could
to hold off the better part of an NVA regiment. But when
Search and Rescue arrived, the ground fire only
intensified. Sandy Lead assumed command of the rescue
operation and quickly determined that the Vietnamese
were using the downed pilot as bait.
Undaunted, Sandy pressed the attack, calling upon every
aircraft in the area. He threw them into the fight,
raining fire and death on the North Vietnamese. The
battle raged for more than three hours. The remaining
Warhorse pilots even flew back to the carrier to rearm
and refuel, in order to return to the fight.
But if the Vietnamese never got close to Keith, the
Search and Rescue helos didn't either. They encountered
withering ground fire every time one of them approached.
The battle ended abruptly when the enemy walked mortar
fire across Keith's hilltop position, killing him.
Jack seethed with fury as he flew back to the carrier.
He felt an overwhelming urge to do something -- anything
-- to kill the enemy. He wanted to rearm and refuel to
fly a third sortie of the day, to drop his bombs on the
first village he saw. He wanted them all dead. D-E-A-D,
dead.
Anger and resentment were thicker than the cigarette
smoke as the pilots gathered in the ready room for
debriefing. Terry Featherston tried to lead them in
prayer, but they answered with desultory grumbles. David
furiously glared into space, his knuckles swollen from
where he'd punched a steel bulkhead. Alvin Young,
Keith's section leader, looked worst of all. His eyes
were red and his face was creased with lines of self-
recrimination.
"All right," Commander Waulk said, upon seeing them when
he entered the room, "we lost a man today. I'm upset
too, but we're naval officers, and we have a job to do."
"Yeah," someone muttered, "kill the fucking gooks."
"Fuckin' ay right," Jack echoed darkly.
"Who said that?" Waulk demanded.
"It doesn't matter," Commander Scarlatti said as he
entered. Softly: "At ease, Frank." To the room in
general, he said, "Listen up! I talked to CAG a few
minutes ago, and I'm taking the squadron off the line.
We've had a tough couple of weeks, and we need some time
to recover."
"What we need is more bombs," someone groused. "McNamara
and his fucking bean-counter Whiz Kids can kiss my ass
if they think we don't have a shortage."
"Secure that, mister," Waulk barked.
Scarlatti glanced at Waulk and a look passed between
them.
Waulk glared for a moment longer, but then backed down.
Scarlatti turned back to the room. "Yeah, you're
probably right about the bombs," he said, "but that's
above our pay grade."
The pilots looked sullen, but reluctantly agreed.
"But it isn't above my pay grade to order you to take
some R- and-R," Scarlatti continued. "We're to stand
down for a week. Half of you will take planes to Da Nang
for three days of Rest and Relaxation. When you return,
the other half will take three days. But Commander Waulk
is right: we are naval officers, and we do have a job to
do. When we resume combat operations, we will be sharp
and well-rested.
"Now, I know you're all upset about Keith," Scarlatti
said into the silence. "I am too. Hell, the whole air
wing is. But that doesn't mean we stop doing what we
came here to do. Is that clear?"
The men reluctantly nodded.
"Now, I've drawn up a list of names for the first group
to Da Nang. I want you to forget about North Vietnam.
Forget about flight ops. Just relax. Go to the beach.
Get drunk. Get laid. Hell, I'll even give Mr. Cousins
permission to get laid for me," Scarlatti added.
Half-sullen chuckles greeted his crack.
"Keith was a good man," Scarlatti said at last, and the
men sobered. "He was one of us, our brother. But he's in
a better place now."
"Or a hotter place," Jerry muttered.
"It can't be much hotter than here," someone else said.
"You didn't know Keith."
"Keith's in a better place now," Scarlatti pressed on,
"and if I know him, he's watching over us. He'd want us
to keep going, to keep fighting. And he'd want us to
remember him the way he was... full of life."
"And full of beer," Schmidt said feebly.
"And full of beer," Scarlatti agreed with a strained
laugh, his eyes sad. He handed a slip of paper to Waulk
and then waited for the murmuring to die down.
"Gentlemen, Mr. Waulk has the R-and-R list. The first
group departs at oh six hundred tomorrow." He paused to
look around the room, meeting eyes and holding them
before moving on. "We lost a good man today. You have a
right to be upset. But don't dishonor Keith's memory by
forgetting what we came here to do."
After a last look around the room, Scarlatti nodded
solemnly. "Carry on."
**
Beth heard Susan shut Paul's bedroom door and walk
quietly toward the dining room. Erin was already asleep
in her room, but Paul had wanted Susan to give him a
backrub before he took his nap.
"He was telling me what he wants for his birthday,"
Susan said, smiling as she took a seat opposite Beth.
Beth arched an eyebrow, a silent, "Oh?"
"Mmm hmm," Susan continued, grinning. "He wants his
daddy to come home. And he's decided that Erin can stay,
as long as she doesn't play with his cars."
Beth grinned.
"Oh, and I almost forgot," Susan added, "he said he
needs more blocks. He doesn't have enough. He said he's
going to build a house where his daddy can stay, instead
of going on cruise. He said 'Uncle Jack' can stay in the
house, too."
"Sounds like you two had quite a conversation."
With a grin, Susan nodded. Then she took a sip of
lemonade in an attempt to cover her expression as it
turned serious. "Did David tell you about Keith Olin?"
Beth nodded and blinked back a sudden rush of tears.
"Jack said they recovered his body. The Search and
Rescue planes guarded him till they could land a
helicopter."
Beth nodded. David had told her much the same thing.
"They had a memorial service for him in Da Nang."
"Is there anything we should do?" Beth asked.
Susan shrugged. "Mary said his car is parked in a
neighbor's garage, and he had several trunks full of his
personal items. They'll go to his next of kin."
Beth nodded. She wondered how he could live like that,
packing up everything he owned before every deployment.
"He was talking about getting a house," Susan said, as
if reading her mind.
The two women sat in silence for several long moments.
"Congratulations on Jack's promotion to Lieutenant
Commander," Beth said, breaking the silence by changing
the subject.
"Thank you," Susan said. "And congratulations on David
making Lieutenant JG. Jack said they had a ceremony in
the admiral's briefing room. He also said that Don
Scarlatti used the bars from when he was a Lieutenant
JG."
Beth felt a rush of pride at the compliment the
commander had paid David. But then she thought about
Keith, and her pride felt empty and hollow.
"What did David say about his medals?" Susan asked.
Beth looked up and shrugged. "He doesn't think he
deserves them. Not the Silver Star, at least."
"Jack told me what he did," Susan said softly.
Beth nodded. David had told her a sanitized version of
the story, but she could read between the lines. He was
hiding something, and she knew him well enough to
suspect what.
"I don't know the particulars," Susan continued, "but
Jack said he saved Don's life."
David hadn't said the same thing -- not in those terms,
at least -- but Beth knew how loyal he was. "I should
probably be proud," she said at last, tears stinging her
eyes. She swallowed hard. "I am, but..." Her vision
turned watery.
Susan was there, holding her, whispering quiet words.
Beth let out a great sob.
"Shhhh," Susan said, rubbing her back, "it's all right."
"What if it had been David?" Beth asked, ashamed at her
relief that another man had been killed, another man
instead of her husband.
Susan shushed her again. "Nothing's going to happen to
David," she said.
Beth let herself go and cried, tears running down her
face, sobs wracking her shoulders. Susan merely held
her, a quiet, comforting presence.
When Beth finally regained enough composure to choke
back her tears, she simply buried her face against
Susan's shoulder and sniffled. Neither of them spoke for
a long time.
"David's going to be just fine," Susan said at last, her
voice soothing. "Trust me."
"I know," Beth said, "but sometimes I just can't help
thinking..."
"Don't," Susan said, an edge to her voice.
Beth nodded and swallowed hard.
"Don't," Susan repeated, softer. Then she crouched in
front of Beth and looked into her teary eyes. "Listen,
there's nothing we can do about it. The guys take care
of each other. What happened to Keith was a random
thing. A fluke! It can't happen to David and Jack,
because they watch out for each other."
Beth knew she was right, but she still felt the weight
of dread in her chest.
Susan smiled, tender and affectionate.
All of a sudden Beth felt a rush of very unladylike
emotion. She closed her eyes, burying her face in her
hands and trying to drown out the image of Susan's eyes.
"It's all right," Susan said, misreading her reaction.
"David will be fine."
"I know," Beth said at last, wiping tears from her
cheeks. She tried to smile, but her lip trembled and
spoiled the effect. She blinked several times, until she
could see clearly. Her eyelashes were sodden, and her
eyes were already starting to sting.
"C'mon," Susan said softly. "Let's get you cleaned up."
She looked down at her own blouse, and the dark stain of
tears and mascara. With a deliberately lighthearted
laugh, she said, "Let's get both of us cleaned up."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Beth said.
"Nonsense," Susan said, standing and pulling Beth to her
feet.
"All in a day's work."
Beth tried not to balk as Susan turned her and propelled
her down the hallway. Once they reached the master
bathroom, Susan began matter-of-factly unbuttoning
Beth's blouse. Beth recoiled in shock, but quickly
mastered her emotions.
"Here," Susan said, undoing the last of Beth's buttons
and indicating her own blouse. "We'll soak these after
you wash your face."
Beth had to fight down a momentary urge to flee. What if
she takes off her bra? she thought frantically.
Conflicting emotions assaulted her. She wanted to see
Susan's breasts. She wanted to see the rest of Susan,
for that matter. But it's wrong! Nice women do not want
to see other women's breasts. Nice women do not think of
other women in "that way."
"Come on, be a good girl, wash your face," Susan said
disarmingly. "I'll get the Woolite."
Beth robotically bent over the sink and washed her face.
When she finished, Susan handed her a towel. Beth dried
her face and then turned to look at the full-length
mirror. Her eyes were drawn to Susan, who stood with her
blouse open, her bra exposed.
Beth quickly covered her face with the towel and
listened as Susan began filling the sink, adding a
capful of Woolite to the basin. She felt a rush of heat
and desire, and tried to suppress it.
"Here, give me your blouse," Susan said.
Beth shrugged and let the shirt slip down her shoulders.
She tried to fight down her desire, but it was no use.
Unfortunately, it only grew more intense when she heard
the soft rustle of fabric as Susan took off her blouse.
Beth swallowed hard and tried to master her emotions.
She tried to think about David: his face, his shoulders,
his chest, the trail of hair leading from his navel to
his...
Stop it! she cried silently.
Thinking of David only made things worse. The rush of
heat between her legs turned to heat and moisture, and
she fought the urge to squeeze her thighs together.
"Are you okay?" Susan asked.
"What? Oh? I'm fine," Beth said quickly, lowering the
towel. Her face felt hot, and she knew her cheeks must
have been cherry red. Her chest felt hot too, and her
nipples...
"Do you mind if I borrow one of David's T-shirts?" Susan
asked.
Beth shook her head, recoiling from her own thoughts.
When Susan returned a moment later, she casually took
off her bra.
Beth tried not to stare at her breasts, but she couldn't
help herself. They were so round and full, dark pink
areolas surrounding stiff nipples. Beth's face burned
with a mixture of shame and desire. She swallowed hard
and looked away.
"Are you okay?" Susan asked again.
"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Beth lied.
With that, she mustered her courage and dropped the
towel. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then,
her eyes still clamped shut, she reached back and felt
for the catch of her bra.
It took her three tries to open it, and when the heavy
elastic finally popped free, she almost gasped in
relief. With her eyes still closed, she shrugged, and
the shoulder straps slid down her arms. She discarded
the bra and swallowed hard. Again.
Her heart raced and her breath came in ragged gasps as
she opened her eyes. She desperately hoped Susan hadn't
seen her nervousness, but when she caught sight of the
other woman's reflection, her hopes died.
Susan was grinning wryly. Worse, she still hadn't donned
her borrowed T-shirt.
Beth fought an internal battle in the span of a
heartbeat. She desperately tried to keep her eyes on
Susan's face. She fought not to let them wander to what
she wanted to look at. She did everything she could,
every fiber of her being straining to...
They're so beautiful, she thought, losing her battle in
an instant of weakness. She tried to pull her eyes away
from Susan's chest, but she couldn't. She felt
mesmerized, transfixed.
"I love your breasts," Susan said, breaking the spell.
Beth blinked for a moment, shocked.
"Mine used to be that big," Susan added, "when I was
still nursing." She casually glanced at her own breasts,
as if sizing them up. "Unfortunately, they shrank."
"I think they're beautiful," Beth blurted before she
knew what she was saying.
Susan smiled, gracious and surprised at the same time.
Beth wanted to wither and die. Her face blazed with
heat, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath.
"Thank you," Susan said at last.
Beth looked up in shock. Susan had always been very open
about her body -- and her sexuality -- but she'd never
shown even a hint that she might feel "that way" about
another woman. Beth tried not to gawk, but she couldn't
help herself.
"It's all right to look at another woman," Susan said
softly.
Then she smiled. "I do it all the time."
"But aren't you worried about...?"
"About what?" Susan asked, almost derisively. "About
what society thinks? About what people like Mary
Scarlatti think? Or Phyllis Waulk?" She scoffed. "Why
should I? I'm not like them."
Beth gaped.
"And neither are you," Susan said earnestly.
Beth felt an insane desire to reach out and touch Susan,
to caress her soft skin, to pull her closer.
"No, I don't worry about what others think," Susan said,
her voice defiant for all that it was barely above a
whisper. "And neither should you."
Beth felt herself nodding.
"We're grown women, and if we want to look at another
woman's body, it's okay. That doesn't make us lesbians."
Beth flinched at the word, but Susan chuckled, low and
throaty and... ironic?
"It doesn't," she said. "It simply makes us honest.
Women look at each other all the time. We ask ourselves,
'Is she prettier than me? Are her hips thinner? Is her
tummy flatter? Does she dye her hair?' We're all
hypocrites. We look at each other and pretend we're not.
Well, I'm tired of it. I'm tired of keeping to myself
and being a prude."
Beth swallowed hard at the intensity in Susan's voice.
"You're very beautiful," Susan said deliberately. She
smiled, diffidently at first, but then with the warmth
that Beth had come to know and love.
To love? she thought.
"I like looking at you," Susan continued. "I've wanted
to see you since we first met."
Beth swallowed hard and nodded, but it was an automatic
reaction.
"I look at you and hope I look half as sexy as you do.
Your breasts are a bit bigger than mine -- "
"That's only because I'm still nursing," Beth said
quickly, if only to avoid thinking about Susan's first
comment. "But your hips are thinner than mine."
"I wish my stomach were as flat as yours," Susan said.
Beth looked down, between her breasts. Her stomach was
fuller than it had been when she was nineteen, but at
least it had gone back to its natural shape.
"I have this little pooch," Susan complained.
"Oh, it's not a pooch," Beth snapped gently, quicker
than she wanted to. Her eyes darted to the soft swell at
Susan's navel. "It's just a little... cushion."
Susan laughed. "That's a nice way to put it."
"Besides," Beth added, "if you didn't have it, you'd be
perfect." When she realized what she'd said, she blushed
furiously. Even the tips of her ears were burning.
"Oh, I don't know about 'perfect,'" Susan demurred. "I
don't think I look as good as you."
It was Beth's turn to demur, although she did it by
hastily looking away.
"But listen to us," Susan said at last, "trying to one-
up each other with compliments."
Beth smiled bashfully.
Susan met her eyes in the mirror and held them. She
smiled. She started to speak, but couldn't find the
words. Then she looked away, almost nervously. "I don't
know what I'd do without you, Beth," she said at last.
"You're... you're my best friend, but you're so much
more ..."
Beth didn't know what to say, so she kept quiet, waiting
for Susan to finish her thought.
"You're like the other half of me... the half I've been
missing all along."
Beth felt a rush of emotion, and before she knew what
was happening, she was hugging Susan.
"I... I love you," Susan whispered, her voice nearly
choked with emotion.
"I love you too," Beth said without thinking. She almost
recoiled when she realized what she'd said.
She caught herself in time, though. Instead of pulling
back, she held on tighter, acutely aware of the feeling
of Susan's bare breasts pressed against her own.
**
Jack shifted in his chair and tried to relieve the
stress of his erection. He'd already had a long day, but
he couldn't tear his eyes away from Susan's letter. He
read the words over again:
Oh, Jack, I've fallen in love. Beth is wonderful. She's
amazing! I know I've told you that a thousand times, but
I really mean it. I love her. And not like a sister. You
know what I mean. I've seen hints that she might feel
the same about me, but I didn't know for sure. And I
didn't want to scare her away by telling her how I felt.
But yesterday, she was upset about Keith's death, and
she started worrying about David. I don't want this to
turn into a steamy letter (I'll write that one a little
later), but I truly didn't expect what happened next...
Jack hurriedly read through the rest of the letter, his
eyes scanning over words he'd read at least a half-dozen
times. When he finished he sat back and imagined the two
women pressed together, their bare breasts touching,
bulging to the sides, soft and smooth.
Susan had described Beth's figure a dozen times, and he
could imagine how she looked now. She was a thinner
version of Susan herself, with bigger breasts and wider
hips. Not much wider, but just enough to give her the
perfect curves.
He was a little disappointed that nothing had happened
after the hug, but Susan assured him that she felt
something special pass between them. He scanned that
part of her letter again, his mind's eye wandering as he
imaged the two women in bed together, writhing in
passion.
His dick throbbed painfully and he swallowed hard. He
wanted to fuck Beth more than he'd wanted anything in a
long time. The only thing he could compare it to was
when he'd first met Susan.
Even better, he was absolutely convinced that David was
the right man. During their R-and-R, they'd gone bar
hopping in Da Nang with several other pilots. But when
the other men had taken the party to the next bar, Jack
and David went down to the beach.
David had been very, very drunk (Keith's death had hit
him hard), and they talked for a long time, slowly
emptying a bottle of whiskey they'd brought with them.
The conversation had eventually turned to sex, and David
told him how he wanted to have sex with another woman.
"Not that I don't love my wife," he'd slurred. "I do.
God, I love her more 'n anything. She's so fuckin' sexy.
Oh, man, she's got the sweetest pussy. And her tits...?"
he gushed, hands cupping imaginary breasts. "Don't get
me started on her tits. I had a hard-on for 'em the
first time I saw her. So I love my wife -- more 'n
anything -- but I jus' want a little vari... vari...
variation. You know? Is that so wrong?"
"Nothin' wrong with that," Jack had said, suddenly more
sober than he'd been all night.
"And Jesus," David had gone on, "I'd love to fuck t...
two... two women at once. You know, Beth and S... S... I
mean, somebody else. S- somebody really sexy, with a
great body and great tits. Yeah, great tits... the kind
you can really get your hands around. Not like these
little brown fucking machines with their slanty eyes and
little tits. God, Jack, how I wanna see a round-eyed
woman and a nice set of tits."
"Amen, brother," Jack said.
"Somebody like Beth... but not Beth, you know? Is that
so wrong? Is it?"
"It ain't wrong at all."
"I just want a round-eyed woman with a nice set of tits.
Beth's got great tits. So's Susan, if you don't mind my
sayin' so. Great tits, both of 'em. Tits, tits, tits...
just made for lovin'."
And with that, David had passed out.
Jack had been too drunk to get him back to their room by
himself, but a helpful F-4 pilot and his backseater had
lent a hand. They had poured David into one bed and then
helped Jack to the other.
Predictably, Jack and David awoke the next morning with
vicious hangovers. They commiserated over a breakfast of
dry toast and strong black coffee. David claimed not to
remember anything from the night before, but Jack
privately suspected that he was embarrassed about the
entire episode.
To take his mind off his embarrassment, they spent the
last day of their R-and-R in a rented sailboat -- a 21'
sloop -- sailing among the civilian ships in Da Nang
harbor. David was a good sailor, although he didn't have
Jack's years of experience. But with the wind in their
hair, the sun on their faces, and the fresh scent of
salt air in their nostrils, they could pretend they were
back in the World.
As Jack's mind returned to the present, his thoughts
returned to sex. He imagined David fucking Susan, his
dick pounding into her, her legs spread around him, her
breasts bouncing with each thrust.
Jack shifted to straighten his own erection in the real
world, and then shook his head to clear his thoughts.
He'd have time to jerk off later. Besides, he wanted to
take his time and re-read Susan's other letter: a steamy
one describing what she wanted to do with him and
another man.
In the meantime, he had to meet David and Jerry for
dinner. As he walked toward the officers' mess, he
imagined how he'd tell David that fucking Susan was a
definite possibility.
He wouldn't tell him, though. Not yet, at least. Susan
had told him -- firmly -- that she'd handle things on
her end, through Beth. But Jack whistled as he walked
along the corridor, his mind running through different
scenarios.
He was still whistling when he stepped through the
hatchway into the mess. David and Jerry were waiting for
him, and they looked at him with puzzled expressions.
"Jus' thinkin' 'bout my wife, boys," he said in his
homiest drawl.
Jerry merely rolled his eyes at Jack's affected Southern
manner.
David, on the other hand, hurriedly turned toward the
chow line.
Welcome to the world of swingers, David, Jack thought
wryly, gazing at his embarrassed friend's back. You just
don't know it yet.
CHAPTER SIX
"Gentlemen," Commander Scarlatti said from the lectern
at the front of the ready room, "before we begin, I'd
like to introduce Ensign Deke Tindle, 'Buzzard.'" He
gestured, and a dark-haired ensign rose.
Jack didn't exactly glare at the man, but his eyes were
hard. Around him, the other pilots looked much the same.
Tindle was Keith Olin's replacement.
"Mr. Tindle joins us from VA-124, by way of Atsugi,"
Scarlatti continued. He glanced at the new man and
nodded. "Why don't you tell us a little about yourself,
Mr. Tindle."
Tindle hesitated for a moment, looking young and
bashful, but then opened his mouth to speak.
"Sit down and shut up!" the pilots shouted in unison. It
was a time-honored tradition. Besides, they all missed
Keith, and some New Guy fresh from The World wasn't
going to take his place.
Tindle turned scarlet and sat down abruptly.
"That's okay, Mr. Tindle," Scarlatti said, his
expression paternal. "We'll get to know you in time." He
turned to business and addressed the room. "As soon as
Mr. Tindle gets up to speed, he will be our new SLJO.
Mr. Hughes, I'm counting on you to acquaint him with his
duties."
Several men chuckled darkly.
"Aye, aye, Skipper," David said.
"Remember how the Old Man likes his coffee, Zuniac,"
Jerry Schmidt called.
"Just like the space between your ears," David shot
back, "--black."
Hoots and catcalls erupted.
"All right, secure the chatter," Commander Waulk said,
but without much heat.
Jerry grumbled, but fell silent. Ed Cousins reached over
the row of seats to tousle his hair.
Scarlatti resumed control of the meeting: "As I was
saying, Mr. Tindle will be our new SLJO. He'll also fly
as my wingman. As a matter of fact, I'm going to shake
up several of the wingman assignments." He unfolded a
piece of paper. "I'll post this on the bulletin board,
but here's the new lineup."
The pilots listened attentively as he read through the
list. Jack and Jerry stayed together, but David was
paired with Larry Reiter, the squadron's Admin Officer.
Larry was an easygoing lieutenant whose callsign was
"Sky."
Ed Cousins was paired with Alvin Young, who hadn't fully
recovered from Keith's death. Ed's cheerful personality
would definitely lift Alvin's spirits. Jack nodded to
himself, impressed by the Old Man's shrewd human
calculus.
"Moving on," Scarlatti continued, "Mr. Young tells me
that our two replacement aircraft are ready for combat
operations. Yours truly will have his name on the side
of 801, and 806 will go to our newest plane owner...
Lieutenant Commander MacLean!"
The men clapped facetiously, and Jack stood to take a
bow. Having his own plane meant he wouldn't have to
share with Ed Cousins. He didn't mind sharing, but plane
ownership was a perk for the squadron's more senior
officers.
Scarlatti waited for the din to die down. "CAG assures
me that our third replacement aircraft is on its way
from Subic. He did have some choice words about losing
three planes in one week, though." He paused to let his
words sink in. "You all know how the Navy works: shit
rolls downhill. When CAG chews my ass, I chew yours. So
let's not lose any more planes. Is that clear?"
"Aye, aye, Skipper," the pilots answered in near-unison,
joking yet serious.
"Until the last replacement plane arrives, we'll have to
double up," Scarlatti continued. "Mr. Shur will fly 811
and Mr. Hughes will fly 814."
Lieutenant Shur normally shared his plane with David,
and he'd been mildly annoyed after David's dust-up with
the North Vietnamese. But the enemy gunners had gotten
the short end of the stick when they tangled with David
Hughes. Jack chuckled mirthlessly -- high explosives
were a good way to end an argument. Permanently.
"When the new plane does arrive," Scarlatti added, with
a meaningful look at David, "please take care of it, Mr.
Hughes."
"I'll do my best, sir," David said earnestly.
The pilots chuckled, and Jack leaned over to clap David
on the shoulder.
"Now, about the bomb shortage we're not having..."
Scarlatti began. "According to Secretary McNamara, we
won't have to cancel any missions due to ordnance
availability."
Several men snorted at the Secretary's double-speak.
"We do have plenty of napalm, though," Scarlatti
continued, "and we seem to have an abundance of snake-
eyes. Consequently, I'm putting us on a close air
support rotation. We'll be operating with a group of II
Corps FACs in Binh Dinh province..."
Scarlatti went on, detailing operations with the forward
air controllers, and Jack made notes. As assistant
operations officer, it was his job to help Commander
Featherston coordinate with the FAC pilots.
As Scarlatti drew the briefing to a close, he held their
attention for a moment longer.
"We're getting short, gentlemen," he said, "less than
two months till we steam for home. Stay sharp. Watch
your wingman. Pay attention to your flight leaders. And
all kidding aside" -- he nodded toward the new guy --
"take Mr. Tindle under your wing and show him how we do
things. He'll be watching my six, and I don't want the
Secretary to blame me for any pilot shortage we're not
having."
The pilots chuckled.
Scarlatti surveyed the room, gazing at the men as a
father might.
"You know your jobs," he said at last. "You wouldn't be
here if you didn't. I expect the best from each of you.
I know you won't disappoint me. Dismissed."
**
"The weather's supposed to be nice this weekend," Susan
said when they finished looking at Jack's latest
pictures. Most were of flight operations, or Vietnam
itself, seen from the cockpit of Jack's jet. But the
rolls always included shots of Jack and his fellow
pilots.
Beth sighed as she thought about David. He looked thin
and gaunt in the pictures, and she finally understood
what a thousand-yard stare looked like. Jack had taken a
candid picture of David in his cockpit after a mission -
- his eyes had been hooded and empty, and he looked old
in the picture, old and tired. It was a sharp contrast
to the pictures where he was obviously hamming for the
camera.
He wasn't the man Beth remembered, and her heart ached
to see him. Susan was talking, but Beth's mind wandered
and she lost the thread of conversation. She simply
gazed outside, her eyes sightless.
With an act of will, she shook herself out of her
growing funk. She couldn't do anything about the
situation, and brooding about it would only make things
worse. Instead, she thought about inconsequential
things, like the weather.
Over the past months, her morning walks with Susan had
progressed from slacks to shorts, from windbreakers to
T-shirts. The days were hot, but at least they were dry,
since California didn't suffer from Florida's staggering
humidity.
Beth wondered what it was like where David was. She knew
that Vietnam was hot and muggy, but she wondered if the
weather was different around the carrier. Did they have
the same afternoon rain showers and humidity in the Gulf
of Tonkin? Or was it sunny and mild?
Unfortunately, David's letters didn't tell her about the
weather. Lately, they hadn't told her much at all,
except that he missed her. He'd begun to talk about "The
World" as if it were some foreign place. She felt him
changing, becoming more guarded, and she didn't like it.
Her letters, on the other hand, were more mundane than
ever. She wanted David to feel like he was still part of
the family's daily life, instead of halfway around the
world in the middle of a war. She wrote about Paul and
Erin, the neighborhood and their walks, and the things
she did with Susan and the other wives.
At the thought of her letters, she smiled -- she also
wrote fantasy letters. She knew that David would never
be unfaithful, but she didn't take that for granted. So
she wrote a fantasy letter at least once a week, telling
him about her hidden thoughts and desires.
Her smile turned ironic when she realized that she
wasn't nearly as explicit when they were together. She
might tell him what she liked, or what she wanted him to
do, but she never would have told him about her fantasy
of semi-public sex, or anonymous sex with a stranger.
She lost her inhibitions in her fantasy letters.
She hadn't quite worked up the nerve to write about her
growing attraction to another woman, though. She barely
admitted it to herself, and only when she was being
exceptionally honest. But when she was being honest with
herself, she knew that her attraction to Susan was more
than emotional. It was physical, too, which made her
nervous. She wasn't like that. She wasn't a...
As usual, her mind shied away from the word. But then
her eyes flashed open and her thoughts began to race.
Two women together might be taboo, but what about two
women and a man? Would David like to have sex with two
women at once? She chuckled sardonically. Didn't most
men have that fantasy?
She turned serious and pondered the question in earnest.
After several moments she nodded to herself. She knew
David -- and his sex drive -- and if he thought she'd
let him do it, he'd definitely have sex with two women
at once. With an eager smile, she decided to include
that in her next fantasy letter.
She never thought she'd admit it, but the idea of David
having sex with another woman actually turned her on.
Not just any woman, though. She cast a covert glance at
Susan, and felt her face heat.
Only if I get to join in, she thought. And who'd object
to a little friendly touching between two women having
sex with the same man? That wouldn't make me a--
Her cheeks fairly blazed with heat and she quickly
looked out the window. She shook her head in frustration
and tried to compose herself. Susan was still talking,
but Beth couldn't focus. Instead, her mind continued to
wander.
She usually took a long bath after she wrote one of her
fantasy letters. The baths always ended the same way,
with her entire body tingling as she gasped from the
intensity of her orgasm.
She felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought.
Then she imagined Susan in the bath with her. She
imagined a bath big enough to hold David, Susan, and
her. Soapsuds hid their bodies, but they were playing
with each other under the water. She imagined her hands
on David's hard shaft, moving in rhythm with Susan's as
she played with his balls.
"Beth?"
Beth closed her eyes and sighed softly as she imagined
what fantasy-Susan was doing with her other hand. She
felt a surge of heat spreading from her pussy, and
squirmed in her seat.
She knew she'd be taking a bath that night, whether she
wrote a fantasy letter or not. She imagined the bathroom
lit with the warm glow of candles, soft music playing in
the background. She could almost feel the hot water
easing the tension from her muscles. Her imaginary
hand...
"Beth?" Susan said for the second time, louder. "Earth
to Beth?"
Beth's eyes snapped open and she looked around in
confusion.
"Here I am, nattering away as if I had good sense,"
Susan was saying, "and you're woolgathering." She
laughed. "Oh, what a pair we make!"
"Oh... sorry."
Susan waved a dismissive hand. "I really was just
nattering."
"I'm sorry," Beth repeated. "I was thinking about..."
She cast about for something to say. "About David! I
mean, about a letter to David."
"Oh? One of those letters?"
Beth felt her face flush hotter still. Why do I have to
blush so much? she thought peevishly. Worse, why do I
have to let my imagination run away with me? Treacherous
--
"Don't worry," Susan said. "I do it all the time.
Sometimes I get so worked up that I can't wait for the
boys to go to bed." She shrugged, but then raised her
hand and wiggled her fingers. "Thank God I can take care
of myself."
"Susan!"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, you do the same thing."
"Well, sure," Beth said, "but I don't talk about it."
"You do too! We talk about it all the time."
Beth shut her mouth abruptly.
"I know more about your sex life than David does," Susan
continued. "Well, I know more about your recent sex
life, at least. David obviously knows you better than I
do."
Beth looked up sharply at Susan's last words. Was she
being... wistful? Did Susan...? Could she possibly...?
Beth practically vibrated with a mixture of doubt, hope,
fear, and excitement.
"As well he should," Susan finished.
Beth suppressed her own chaotic emotions when she sensed
Susan's disappointment. She reached out automatically.
"He knows me better in some ways," she soothed, "but he
can't know me like you do." She struggled for words, but
then gave up. "He's a man. How could he possibly know me
like you do?"
Susan tried to smile, but her eyes filled with tears and
she looked away. Her expression was easy to read: a
mixture of relief and happiness. "I'm sorry," she said
at last.
"For what?"
"For getting all weepy."
"Ha! You call that weepy?" Beth smiled to take the sting
out of it. "Believe me, I know weepy, and you're a far
cry from turning on the faucet. You haven't even messed
up your makeup."
"Or my blouse," Susan said, smiling weakly.
"Or your blouse," Beth echoed, her mind going back to
their half- naked embrace. She set her hand on Susan's
knee, affectionate and comforting.
Susan looked up, her eyes still moist with unshed tears.
They didn't need to speak.
Susan smiled. Thank you.
Beth felt her eyes crinkle as she returned the smile.
You're welcome.
Time stretched into a companionable silence, and Susan
composed herself.
"Just look at us," she said.
"I think I like looking at us," Beth said, suddenly
cheerful. "I certainly like looking at myself, now that
I've got my body back. And I've always liked looking at
you."
Susan's eyebrow moved a fraction of an inch.
Beth didn't need more than that, and she started to
recoil as she mentally repeated her impulsive words. But
then she checked the reaction, and smiled instead.
Susan tilted her head to the side.
"Okay, I admit it," Beth said at last, feigning
exasperation. "You're a beautiful woman. I thought so
when I first met you. If I were a man, I'd want to...
to... jump your bones or something!"
Susan burst out laughing.
"I would," Beth said. "I'd jump your bones as often as I
could. Morning, noon, and night!" Suddenly, she
swallowed hard and fought to compose herself. "If I were
a man, that is."
Susan's smile turned inquisitive, and she arched an
eyebrow.
"Oh, quit looking at me like that," Beth said, half
bluster, half nerves.
"Why?"
"You know why."
"Because you want to jump my bones?"
"You know I don't mean it like that," Beth lied, but she
began to fret when the pause lengthened.
After a moment Susan smiled, as if to say "That's too
bad."
Flustered, Beth got up to refill their drinks, grateful
for the distraction. It gave her a chance to compose
herself, and she chattered aimlessly as she stood at the
sink and refilled the ice cube trays.
"So," she said, returning to the living room with the
fresh glasses of lemonade, "what were you talking about
before I started woolgathering?"
"I was talking about sunbathing," Susan said evenly. But
her eyes were smiling, deep blue and glittering with
mirth. "Nude sunbathing."
Beth swallowed hard.
"I've been lying out in the afternoons," Susan
continued. "But since our backyard doesn't have any
privacy, I have to keep my bikini on. At least I can
undo my top when I'm on my stomach, but still... I hate
tan lines."
Beth nodded, too afraid to speak, lest she betray her
desire.
"So I thought we could start working on our tans here,
while Paul and Erin are down for their naps."
"Um... sure."
"If you think you can, ahem, control yourself."
Beth felt her face go slack with shock. "What do you
mean?" she practically croaked.
"I wouldn't want you to... jump my bones or anything."
Susan's smile turned wry and knowing, and her eyes
practically danced with laughter. "But then again," she
added, "I just might like that."
Beth's face flushed with heat and she had to look away.
"I'm so sorry," Susan said quickly. "I was just
teasing."
Beth felt a rush of disappointment and looked up. Her
heart fluttered when she realized that Susan hadn't been
teasing at all.
"Please forgive me," Susan said. "I... I didn't mean it
like that."
Yes you did, Beth thought with a mixture of triumph and
sudden hesitation.
"I was just kidding."
"That's okay," Beth said at last. "I guess I'm just a
little emotional today."
"That makes two of us," Susan said hastily. "I don't
know whether to laugh or cry."
Beth smiled, her eyes full of warmth. Then she surprised
herself by looking at her watch. "The kids should be
asleep for another hour or so. Do you still want to lie
out?"
Susan looked up in surprise.
"I don't know if I'm ready for full nude sunbathing,"
Beth added quickly, "but I'm definitely ready for
topless."
Susan blinked.
Beth fought not to smile. "I don't mind if you're nude,
though." I don't mind at all, she added silently.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I'll get some beach towels."
She took the towels out of the linen closet and then
fetched her bikini bottoms. She thought about changing
clothes in the privacy of her bedroom, but decided
against it.
When she returned to the living room, she flushed with
arousal as Susan matter-of-factly crossed her arms and
pulled her T-shirt over her head. She draped it neatly
over the back of a chair and casually took off her bra.
Beth set the towels on the table and fidgeted with the
hem of her own T-shirt. She finally mustered the courage
to lift it, and cool air washed over her stomach. She
tugged the shirt over her head and shook out her hair.
Then she concentrated on unfastening her bra. It came
free and she draped it over her shirt.
Out of the corner of her eye, Beth watched Susan slide
her shorts down her legs. Her panties followed a moment
later and Beth resolutely looked away. She couldn't help
watching out of the corner of her eye, though. Susan
straightened, nude and completely relaxed.
Butterflies filled Beth's stomach as she undid the
button on her shorts. She gathered her courage and then
slid them down her legs. She thought about turning her
back before she took off her panties, but she steeled
her resolve and hooked her thumbs in the elastic
waistband.
She shivered as the soft cotton peeled away from her
skin, revealing more than anyone but her husband or
doctor had seen in many years. She started to reach for
the bikini bottoms but then stopped, her hand suspended
in midair.
"Are you okay?" Susan asked at last.
Beth straightened. Almost as an afterthought, she pulled
her arm back.
"What is it?"
A prudish part of Beth insisted that she should wear the
bikini bottoms, to hide her sex from Susan's eyes. But
an adventurous part of her wanted to show off, to let
Susan see her as few others had before. The two parts
fought a silent inner battle, but then she came to a
decision. She took a deep breath and forced a smile.
Then she deliberately turned away from the bikini
bottoms.
Unfortunately, that brought her face to face with Susan
-- a very nude Susan. Beth didn't want to get caught
staring, so she struggled to keep her gaze at eye level.
With an inner snort, she admitted that not getting
caught wasn't the same as not looking in the first
place. Susan's soft chuckle broke her train of thought.
"What?" Beth asked, suddenly unsure of herself.
"It's okay to look," Susan said. "You don't have to keep
your eyes locked on mine." She looked down and waved at
her body. "I don't think you're going to see anything
out of the ordinary. I have the usual number of
curves... most of them in the right places." She
grinned, mischievous and sincere at the same time.
Beth laughed, the release of tension almost palpable.
"My curves aren't as nice as yours," Susan continued,
"but I'm happy with them. Fortunately, so is Jack."
He's not the only one, Beth thought. Then she saw a
sparkle in the other woman's eyes. What was it?
Recognition? Anticipation? Beth's mind raced with the
possibilities, and she felt her breath catch.
Susan misinterpreted the reaction. "It gets easier the
more you do it," she said softly.
Beth swallowed hard and nodded, smiling diffidently.
"Besides, you'll get used to seeing me au naturel, and
it won't seem so odd."
"You're not odd at all," Beth said before she realized
it.
Susan smiled.
"You look like a perfectly healthy woman," Beth said
into the nervous silence.
Susan's eyes flashed.
"Oh, will you quit it!"
She feigned innocence. "Quit what?"
"Quit teasing me. This is hard enough as it is. David's
the only one who's seen me like this in a long time."
"Lucky him."
Beth frowned at the teasing note. "I'm serious," she
said. "It's not easy to stand here in the buff in front
of another woman."
"Why?"
Beth started to answer tartly, but then she realized
that Susan was serious. "What do you mean?" she asked
instead.
"I mean, why don't you like being nude in front of
another woman?"
"I didn't say I didn't like it," Beth corrected, her
cheeks heating at the admission. "I said it's not easy."
Susan tilted her head to the side in question.
Beth suddenly felt self-conscious, and she wanted to
hide her nakedness with her arms.
"Seriously," Susan said at last, "what's difficult about
it?"
"For one thing," Beth said with more candor than she
wanted, "I'm nervous about what you think. Okay, maybe
you're right... maybe we do look at each other and
wonder, 'Is she prettier than I am?'"
Susan surprised her by laughing, bright and genuine.
"What?"
"Oh, you have no idea," Susan said at last, sighing as
her laughter trailed off.
"What?" Beth said, a bit testily.
Susan sobered. "You're one of the most beautiful women
I've ever met." She gestured at Beth's body. "You're
just about perfect, from the top of your head to your
painted toenails. From your cute butt to the tips of
your nipples."
Beth felt herself blush furiously, certain that the
nipples in question had just turned a shade darker as
well.
"Are you serious?" Susan asked rhetorically. "Do you
honestly worry about being pretty?"
"Well... I..."
"Oh, my," Susan said, with a half-mocking sigh. "Here,
come with me."
Confused, Beth followed her down the hallway to the
master bathroom. They stood in front of the mirror.
"Look at yourself," Susan said, standing very close --
so close that Beth could feel the heat of her body.
"You're beautiful," Susan continued, her voice soft and
almost seductive.
Beth's eyes were drawn to the mirror. Her gaze wandered
to Susan, to the side of her breast, to the swell of her
hip.
"I mean it," Susan said. "Look at yourself."
Beth's eyes snapped to her own reflection. She still
thought her hips were too wide, but she had to admit
that she was fairly happy with the rest of her body. Her
breasts had shrunk since she stopped nursing, but they
still didn't sag much. Her nipples were bigger than
they'd been when she was younger, but they weren't the
sand dollar-sized nipples she'd seen on some of the
women in David's Playboy magazines.
Her stomach still wasn't as flat as she would have
liked, but it was far better than the pooch she'd had
after Erin's birth. Even her skin looked healthy, with a
light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks
(and her shoulders and upper chest, which she didn't
like as much). The freckles would merge into an even tan
as soon as she spent more time in the sun, though.
She gazed at herself for a moment longer, but then
looked away, modesty and nervousness conspiring to make
her blush.
"It's okay to look at yourself," Susan said softly.
"It's okay to think you're pretty. You are. And it's
okay to enjoy someone else looking at you."
"It's not that," Beth said suddenly. "I like David
looking at me. I'm just not used to enjoying it when a
woman looks at me."
Susan smiled. Beth swallowed hard and looked away.
Neither of them spoke for several long heartbeats, but
Beth could feel the tension between them. It wasn't an
awkward tension, though. Instead, it was a nervous
tension, full of anticipation.
She desperately wanted to say something about how much
Susan meant to her, but the moment passed before she
could find the words. Susan must have sensed it too,
because she smiled, albeit a bit sadly. "Are you ready
to head outside?" she said at last.
Beth spent the next hour trying to keep her imagination
from running away with her. Susan had a beautiful body,
and her light tan lines drew Beth's eyes like a magnet.
But even when she wasn't looking directly, she felt like
she was staring. Her closed eyelids seem to contain
images of Susan...
....on her back, her breasts flattened by their own
weight, bulging to the sides, soft and full.
....on her stomach, the gentle dip of her back leading
to the curve of her rear.
....rolling over, her breasts shifting, her legs
flashing open for a brief instant.
Beth tried to shake off the images, but she couldn't.
She wanted to tell Susan how she felt, but she couldn't
do that either. She didn't want to feel the way she did,
but she knew not to fight it.
Later that night, after she gave Paul and Erin their
baths and put them to bed, she drew a bath for herself,
lighting candles as the tub filled with steaming water.
She added bath oil, and the flow from the spigot foamed
the water. Finally, she eased into the tub, the heat
soaking into her body.
She thought about David for a while, his strong hands on
her body, working her into a frenzy. She began to caress
herself in earnest, one hand on her nipples as the other
teased her clit. Her thoughts turned to Susan.
She didn't know exactly how two women had sex, but she
imagined that it involved rubbing their pussies
together. And it probably had the usual things to do
with tongues and fingers. At that, she slid her own
finger into her pussy. The heel of her palm rested on
her mound and she pressed it against the base of her
clit.
She moaned softly as the water sloshed about her, the
suds rippling with her motions. She tweaked and tugged
her nipples, her other hand busy between her legs. She
pushed a second finger into her pussy, savoring the
feeling.
She remembered Susan from earlier, lying on her back, a
light sheen of cocoa butter making her body shine. Her
chestnut pubic hair glistened in the sunlight, and Beth
thought she'd been able to see her slit.
She imagined the scene again and wondered if she'd have
the nerve to touch another woman's pussy. She'd always
been fascinated by breasts, and knew she'd like to suck
another woman's nipples. But could she do more? Could
she actually go down on another woman?
She stopped asking herself questions as she felt the
first twinges of orgasm. It welled up within her and her
senses sharpened. She felt every ripple of water, heard
the sounds of it lapping gently as she fingered herself,
smelled the fragrant scent of the bath oil.
She closed her eyes and arched her back, her fingers
thrusting hard between her legs. She stopped tugging her
nipples with the other hand and lowered it to her clit.
She exploded as soon as she touched it, lightning bolts
of pleasure erupting in her brain. The soapy water
streamed from her breasts as her back arched. Waves of
pleasure assaulted her, battering her senses until she
sagged back, the water sloshing around her.
Slowly, slowly she came to her senses. Her chest still
heaved with the effort of breathing, the sudsy water in
front of her rippling with the effort. She swallowed
hard, her mouth dry from panting.
Her body was still tingling and she eased her fingers
from her pussy. The pads of her fingertips felt
wrinkled, not from the water, but from her own juices.
She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of
the tub, still breathing heavily. Then she smiled as she
imagined Susan's look of approval.
**
Jack left the ready room after a long night with
Commander Featherston and the squadron's Intel Officer.
They'd been working on the myriad of details for the
next day's strike.
For today's strike, he corrected himself after a glance
at his watch. He scrubbed his face with a hand and
yawned. Even though he was several decks below, he could
hear the sound of flight operations, the distant thump
of the steam catapults firing. The carrier was launching
the planes of the CAP, the F-4s that constantly guarded
the ship.
He thought about stopping by the mess for a cup of
coffee, but decided against it. He had a letter from
Susan waiting in his cabin, and he planned to climb into
his rack and read it before he went to sleep.
He finally reached the cabin and shut the door behind
him. He shed his uniform and tried to work the kinks
from his muscles. Eventually, he grabbed the unopened
letter and climbed into bed.
He lay atop the blanket and gazed at Susan's
handwriting, stylish and confident. He held the letter
to his nose and inhaled deeply. He didn't know how many
hands it had passed through, but he could still smell
her on it. She didn't spray her letters with perfume
like some of the other wives did, but he could still
pick out her scent.
He closed his eyes and held his breath as long as he
could. He let it out and breathed in again, the image of
Susan in his mind. She was sitting at her dressing
table, wearing a loose-fitting blouse, her hair pinned
back. She wore a look of concentration as she filled the
letter with her life, connecting him to a world he
hadn't known for many months.
Eventually, he opened the letter, careful not to tear
the envelope. He kept all of her letters, safe in a box
in the bottom desk drawer. He kept the boys' letters
too, and even pinned some of them to the corkboard
behind his desk. The board was nearly full now, with
pictures and drawings and mementos from home.
Home, he thought, catching another whiff of Susan as he
unfolded the letter.
He read. The boys were happy to be out of school for the
summer, and they were starting to get excited about his
return. They'd made a calendar and taped it to the
refrigerator, crossing off the days, counting down to
August 24th.
Susan was doing well, but she missed him. She was
keeping busy, though, and told him that Beth had helped
her replant the front flowerbeds. The California weather
was so dry that she had to water the flowers every day,
but she didn't mind. She did it every morning before
meeting Beth for their walk.
She also told him that she and Beth had begun sunbathing
in the semi-privacy of the Hugheses' backyard. He perked
up at that, reading Susan's description of the
conversation in Beth's bathroom. Susan didn't tell him
everything she shared with Beth, but he could imagine
the sexual tension as the two women gazed into the
mirror.
Then he got to the part where Susan described Beth's
body. It was the first time she'd seen her completely
nude, and Jack was eager to know what she looked like.
He re-read the passage several times. Then he closed his
eyes and let his imagination conjure Beth.
Generous breasts... pink nipples... flat stomach... dark
blonde bush... full hips... firm legs...
Susan hadn't used quite those words, but his imagination
picked up where her description left off. He was still
thinking about Beth when he set the letter on his chest
and stripped off his skivvies. He was already hard, and
he stroked himself idly.
He imagined having sex with Susan and Beth at the same
time, one of them riding him while the other straddled
his face. Then he imagined fucking Beth, her eyes half-
closed in ecstasy. Several scenes flashed through his
imagination, each one wilder than the last.
He stroked himself as he fucked the fantasy women. The
tension mounted in his balls, so he slowed his pace.
Finally, he stopped altogether. He didn't want to come
too soon, after all. His mind wandered.
He used to jokingly complain that he hadn't sown his
wild oats before he got married, but that wasn't quite
true. He introduced a fair number of women to his wild
oats before he met Susan. Still, he didn't want to think
of himself as "settled." He might not be the devil-may-
care bachelor he'd once been, but he definitely wasn't
ready for life as a staid married man.
His thoughts returned to sex with two women, and he
found himself thinking about the first time he'd managed
it. Although, if he told the absolute truth, he hadn't
"managed" it at all -- the women had. He'd been
eighteen, visiting his parents on a summer vacation
before his first year at the Citadel. They were in
Turkey, where his father was a liaison for the State
Department and a consortium of business interests.
His parents had been busy with official luncheons and
diplomatic parties, though. So Jack had been left to his
own devices in a country where he didn't speak the
language. Fortunately, the only language he really
wanted to speak was nautical.
He loved sailing as much as flying -- more, perhaps --
and some of his best boyhood memories were of sailing
with his grandfather in Charleston Harbor. He missed
those days, but he refused to dwell on the past. So
while his parents were socializing with Turkey's elite,
Jack spent all of his time with his father's pride and
joy, the Mistral, a New York 40 racing sloop.
Jack loved the sleek boat as much as his father did. It
had been designed and built by Nat Herreshoff -- the
finest yacht designer ever, as far as Jack was concerned
-- and it was a wooden work of art. And it was Jack's
sole companion for the summer.
He wanted to cruise the Aegean Sea, but he couldn't sail
the boat by himself, so he recruited the son of another
diplomat. Once through the Dardanelles, their first port
of call was a popular vacation town. Jack only planned a
quick stop for water, diesel, and fresh stores, but he
and his friend met three Turkish girls on the quay. They
were on holiday from college, and were curious about the
two Americans.
Jack had never been shy, and he struck up a
conversation. Much to his disappointment, the prettiest
girl had been smitten with his friend. The two of them
quickly found an excuse to slip off together.
The remaining two girls were cousins, Nesrin and Dilara.
They were both plumper than he usually liked, but pretty
enough. Nesrin was more his type -- curvy, with dark
eyes and darker hair -- but she barely said a word,
while Dilara was the one who spoke English.
He desperately wanted to find a way to get rid of Dilara
so he could spend some time alone with Nesrin. He boldly
imagined that the international language of love -- and
his irresistible American charm -- would soon have
Nesrin swooning for him. But he was a gentleman, and he
didn't want to simply abandon Dilara.
So he invited the girls to go sailing on the Mistral.
The winds were light enough that he could handle the
boat by himself. If not, the girls could belay or haul a
line when told.
The older Jack recalled with a dark chuckle that he'd
been half hoping Dilara would get seasick and spend her
time below. Much to the younger Jack's disappointment,
she quickly got her sea legs. But she also pulled off
her T-shirt and shorts, revealing a bikini instead of a
one-piece bathing suit. Nesrin smiled and followed suit.
Jack stripped off his T-shirt -- to impress Nesrin --
but Dilara paid more attention to him. He was trying to
hide his annoyance when she floored him with a question.
"Do you mind if we take the sun too?" she asked.
"Without our... How you say...? Topless?"
He quickly recovered his composure and said, "Be my
guest."
The girls casually removed their bikini tops, revealing
light olive breasts with dark nipples. Jack grinned in
reply to Dilara's challenging look. Unfortunately, he
needed to change course before he ran afoul of a
fisherman's nets. He reluctantly tore his eyes from the
topless girls and concentrated on sailing.
He put the helm down and let the boat fall off, easing
the main sheet as he did. A minute later he steadied on
the starboard tack with the wind on the quarter. He
trimmed the jib to take advantage of the light wind, and
began a broad reach to the southwest.
Once he returned to the cockpit, they chatted amiably
for almost an hour. Dilara translated for Nesrin, who
merely smiled and laughed at his jokes. He enjoyed the
attention, and the girls didn't seem to mind his
wandering eyes.
When Dilara wanted him to show her how to steer, he
gladly obliged. She stood at the wheel and he wrapped
his arms around her to help. He bent close, inhaling the
scent of soap and warm skin. It was a heady mixture, and
he felt his dick harden. Dilara felt it too, and glanced
at him playfully.
"Would you like a tour of the cabin?" he asked.
"Does this boat have... uh... beds?" she asked.
"Uh-huh," he said. "Do you want me to show you...?"
"Oh, yes," Dilara said. "That would be fun."
"What about Nesrin?" he asked. He didn't know when he'd
changed his mind about which girl he was interested in,
but he wasn't willing to simply abandon Nesrin, either.
"Can you give two tours?"
Jack's eyebrows shot up, but he merely nodded. "Sure,"
he said, "I can do that."
"We would like that very much. We never have an
American... tour."
Unfortunately, he couldn't leave the helm while the boat
was still under way. Dilara sat back on the coaming and
started whispering and giggling with Nesrin, both of
them darting glances at the lump of his erection.
Jack shaded his eyes and scanned for someplace sheltered
to anchor. The closest place was a rocky island about a
mile to the southeast. With a confident grin, he told
the girls to hold on and to keep their heads down.
He gauged the wind and the boat's course, sensing a
dozen variables at once. The wind was just light enough,
he decided. He put the helm over and abruptly gybed the
boat. The wind came aft and he kept an eye on the
mainsail as the bow swung through the compass.
A sound to port gave him a second's warning, and he made
sure the girls were out of harm's way. He unconsciously
ducked as the boom swung over his head with a heavy
creak. Once he settled the boat onto its new course, he
had Dilara hold the wheel. Then he jumped forward to re-
trim the jib.
Fifteen minutes later they fetched the island and Jack
made for a sheltered cove. He lowered the mainsail and
put the helm into the wind. The jib backed and filled,
and he went forward to set the anchor. His erection was
obvious, but he didn't care, especially since the girls
were eyeing it eagerly.
"Well," he said at last, hopping into the cockpit, "are
you ready for that tour now?"
They giggled as he led them below, to the captain's
stateroom. He normally kept it neat -- he kept
everything neat when he lived aboard -- so he didn't
suffer the embarrassment of having to pick up underwear
(or worse).
He was a little nervous, but decided to play it cool,
trusting his instincts. He took turns kissing the girls,
their bare breasts pressed against his equally bare
chest. They tumbled on the bed and Jack put Dilara's
hand on his erection. She didn't shy away. Instead, she
brazenly pulled back and concentrated on opening his
fly.
He pulled Nesrin down and kissed her fiercely. Dilara
cooed when she freed his erection. Then she said
something in Turkish, and Nesrin broke the kiss.
"We thought you might be like other Christians," Dilara
said, eyeing his manhood.
Jack furrowed his brow.
"They are un... uncir..." She searched for the word, but
then shrugged. "They have their..."
She said something that sounded like "force kings." Jack
shook his head, distracted by her hand on his dick.
"You know," she continued. "The skin around their
cocks?"
"Oh, foreskin," Jack said.
"But you are like Turkish men," Dilara said, "like
Muslims."
Nesrin said something in Turkish, and Dilara smiled.
"Nesrin says she likes your cock. This is the right
word? Cock?"
Jack waggled his eyebrows and grinned. "It's the right
word all right." He pushed his shorts down and kicked
them aside, his erection waving as he rolled upright.
He gently pushed Dilara to her back and reached for her
bikini bottoms. She didn't resist, and even grinned as
he tugged them over her hips. Then he got the shock of
his life.
In the present, the older Jack chuckled at his
remembered confusion and astonishment. Then he began
stroking himself again. He closed his eyes and returned
to his memories.
"You don't have any hair," he said to Dilara, her bikini
bottoms halfway down her thighs.
She grinned. "Like a harem girl."
"A harem girl...?"
"You do not like?" she said, frowning.
Jack quickly shook his head. "No, I mean --" He abruptly
nodded. "Yes, I --" He started to shake his head again,
but stopped. "I like it a lot," he finally blurted.
Dilara's expression went from hurt to delighted. "You
do?"
Jack didn't answer with words. Instead, he threw her
legs in the air and yanked her bikini bottoms the rest
of the way off. He flung them aside and gazed down at
her hairless sex, her lips already dark and plump with
arousal.
Nesrin giggled and pretended to fight him off as he did
the same to her, revealing her own hairless pussy.
Dilara reached for his cock and he kissed her. Then he
switched to Nesrin, his hands searching between her legs
until he found the smooth skin of her mound.
Back in the present, Jack opened his eyes, the twinges
of an orgasm tingling in his balls. He grinned at the
memory of long- ago events on the Mistral. He had fucked
the two girls non-stop for nearly two hours. Then they'd
taken a break and gone for a swim to cool off.
When they returned to the warm deck of the boat, the
Mediterranean sun dried them as they had sex again.
Afterward, they cleaned up and lounged in the cockpit,
drinking Fanta.
Later that afternoon, they'd gone below and started
fooling around again. Jack had fucked each of them
before pulling out and coming on Dilara's heaving belly.
He could still remember the sight of his red glans
spurting white semen onto her olive skin.
Present-day Jack held that image in his mind, as vivid
as the day it happened. His back and legs tensed as he
continued stroking himself. With a groan, he felt the
semen surge up his shaft, a hot spurt splattering over
his belly. The second spurt gushed over his hand. His
cock continued to throb as he stroked himself gently.
Finally, he relaxed and sagged to the mattress. He was
breathing hard, and he saw spots before his eyes. His
body tingled and he continued panting, his thoughts on
the Turkish girls so many years in the past.
After their afternoon in the cove, he'd sailed back to
the resort town, motoring up to the quay as the dying
rays of the sun filled the western sky with a red-orange
glow. His friend and the prettiest girl had been waiting
for them. They'd both looked freshly scrubbed and worn
out.
The five of them had eaten dinner near the harbor, and
spent the night aboard the boat. The sounds from the
other cabin were enough to keep Jack horny all night.
Dilara and Nesrin didn't seem to mind. Everyone had
looked exhausted but happy at breakfast the next
morning.
The girls eventually said goodbye, laughing and waving
as they walked up the quay. Jack and his friend merely
smirked at one another as they took on water and diesel.
He never saw the girls again. He and his friend had
other adventures that summer, but none compared to the
Turkish girls.
His mind returned to the present, and he smiled up at
the darkened overhead. He'd been fascinated by Dilara
and Nesrin's hairless pussies, especially the sight as
he slid his light- skinned dick into them.
At the time -- the ultra-conservative Fifties -- he
couldn't imagine an American woman shaving her pubic
hair. But now it was 1966, not 1954. Twelve years made a
world of difference, and American women had begun to
change.
He snorted softly. Susan hadn't changed, but she made
even the Sixties seem prosaic by comparison. And it had
taken him several years to get used to the idea that his
wife was anything but normal. He thought about the
Turkish girls' shaved pussies -- exotic and taboo -- and
wondered if Susan would be willing to change for him.
He looked at his watch. It was well after two in the
morning. He had to fly a mission in less than eight
hours, but he was wide awake. He cleaned himself up,
slipped into his skivvies, and turned on his desk light.
The metal of his chair was cold against his bare back as
he took out paper and pen.
**
"You won't believe what Jack wants me to do," Susan
blurted in surprise, holding up a letter.
She and Beth usually read them together while they
sunbathed, sharing tidbits and reading passages aloud.
Between David's letters and Jack's photographs, Beth had
a fair idea of life aboard the carrier.
"What?" she asked.
"He wants me to shave."
Beth felt her brow furrow. "Don't you shave already?"
"Of course. But he's not talking about my legs or
underarms."
"What then?"
"My pubic hair," Susan said, amusement and disbelief in
her voice.
"He wants you to what?"
"He wants me to shave my bush."
Beth was dumbfounded.
"That's what I thought," Susan said, nodding at Beth's
expression.
"He wants you to shave... down there?"
Susan nodded, but then shook her head in wonder.
"Why? Won't it make you look like a young girl?"
"Hardly," Susan said, sitting up.
Beth suppressed a stir of emotion at the sight of
Susan's body. She'd grown more accustomed to it over the
weeks, but she still felt a rush of arousal every time
they sunbathed together.
She'd quit trying to deny that she was attracted to the
other woman. She'd even quit trying to convince herself
that it was wrong. She wasn't... one of them -- she
still wouldn't even think the word -- but she didn't
have a name for how she felt.
She fantasized about David all the time, although she
sometimes added Susan to the mix. Lately, she'd been
thinking more and more about Susan alone. With a shake
to clear her head, she returned her attention to the
flesh-and-blood Susan.
"With my breasts?" Susan asked rhetorically. "I may not
be Jayne Mansfield, but I'm no flat-chested girl. And my
hips...? Babies have a way of spreading things out."
"Tell me about it," Beth said. She sat up herself,
leaning on one arm and tucking her legs beneath her.
Susan spread her legs as if she were going to cross
them. Instead, she looked down and put her hand on her
stomach. "He wants me to shave," she mused quietly,
running her fingers through her chestnut pubic hair.
Beth felt a rush of heat through her cheeks. The
afternoon was warm, but not that warm.
"I used to be so proud of my bush," Susan said, lost in
remembrance. "I thought, 'Now I look like a woman.'" She
shrugged. "I always knew I'd get breasts -- my mother
had a healthy bosom -- but my pubic hair always seemed
to be a badge of honor. My first period was
anticlimactic by contrast."
Beth looked a question at her.
"No one saw my first period. Sure, I wore bikini bottoms
for a couple of days, to hide the pads -- " Suddenly,
she laughed. "Do you remember when we still called them
feminine napkins? And when they thought young ladies
shouldn't use tampons?" She sighed. "Oh, those were the
days. So naive..."
"No kidding."
"But where was I?" Susan said. "Oh, yes. I was always so
proud of my pubic hair, because it made me look like the
other women. It's different growing up at a nudist camp
-- I saw people's bodies all the time. And instead of
being ashamed, I was curious. I wanted to look like
them, to be normal."
"That's not so unusual," Beth said. "I remember seeing
Ginny and wanting to look like her. But she's not that
much older, so I knew I wouldn't have to wait long."
"Well, I didn't have an older sister. I had a full-grown
mother, and other women who looked like women, with all
the usual curves and hair."
Beth nodded.
Susan laughed ironically. "I never realized how much I
wanted to fit in, to seem normal. I always thought I was
a rebel. You know, like a female Jack Kerouac or
something."
"Susan MacLean, On the Road?" Beth joked.
"Something like that."
Beth nodded, recalling Susan's maiden name too late.
"But yes," Susan continued, "I always thought I was a
rebel. I knew more about business and finance than most
men. I read the newspaper instead of homemaking
magazines. I talked to my parents about politics, and
morals, and ethics. I lived at a nudist camp, and I
wasn't ashamed of my body. I wasn't like other girls my
age."
"No, you weren't," Beth said softly. You still aren't.
"So I guess it surprises me when I realize how much I
wanted to fit in, to be normal. But I'm not normal. I'm
not like other women." She looked up quickly, guiltily.
"Present company excepted, of course."
Beth smiled with amusement. "Of course."
"But I'm serious. I'm not like other women. I'm not like
Mary Scarlatti or Phyllis Waulk. I'm not some busybody
homemaker or social climber. I'm not even like most of
my friends!"
"Present company excepted, of course," Beth teased.
Susan rolled her eyes. "You? Hardly! You're not my
friend."
Beth started to frown in puzzlement, but Susan grinned.
"You're more like my sister... or the other half of me.
You're like Jack, only closer. In many ways, at least."
Beth swallowed hard and fought not to look away.
"But you know what I mean."
"Thank you," Beth said softly.
"We're not like other women, Beth," Susan said, her
voice low and intense.
The silence drew out, and Beth tried not to fidget. "So
what are you going to do?" she said at last.
"About what?"
"About what Jack wants."
Susan laughed. "I'm not going to be like other women,
that's for sure."
"So you're going to do it?"
"Sure! Why not? If that's what Jack wants, then that's
what I'll give him. If he wants a bald beaver--"
"Susan!"
She grinned impishly. "If he wants a bald beaver, then
that's what he'll get." Her eyes sparkled with
determination. "I just hope I don't cut myself," she
added, chuckling.
"Ouch!"
"No kidding. Those are tender parts, and I kinda like
playing with them... without bloodshed."
Beth blushed again, the tips of her ears heating.
"Oh, don't be such a prude," Susan chided playfully.
"I'm not a prude," Beth said, drawing herself up. "I
just have a sense of... decorum."
"Well, I do too... but not when we're talking about my
soon-to-be- bald beaver."
"Susan! Do you have to keep calling it that?"
"What? 'Beaver'?"
Beth rolled her eyes.
"Beaver, beaver, beaver. You have one too."
"But I don't talk about it all the time."
"Maybe you should," Susan said. "It's a very nice
beaver, after all."
Beth's face felt hotter than ever, and she looked away.
She was afraid to meet Susan's eyes. She didn't want her
to see the flames of desire that lurked beneath the
embarrassment.
**
Beth looked up as the front door opened.
Susan swept into the house. "I did it," she said,
obviously excited.
Paul was playing with his blocks, and he grinned at the
sight of Susan.
"Did what?" Beth asked as she finished putting Erin's
hat on.
"It," Susan said enigmatically.
Beth half-scowled at her.
"B-A-L-D B-E-A-V-E-R."
Beth fought not to laugh. Paul repeated everything he
heard, and she had a sudden image of him saying "Bald
beaver" to Mary Scarlatti.
"I did it last night in the bath," Susan said. "It took
me thirty minutes, too! I went through two razor blades.
But it's smooth as a baby's bottom. Do you want to see?"
She began to undo the button of her shorts.
"Later," Beth blurted.
"Oh! Sorry. I guess I'm just a little excited, and
you're the only person I can tell. Well, not the only
person. I wrote a scorcher of a letter to Jack last
night. I was up till midnight. I had to take care of
things three times."
"Three times?"
Susan nodded, unabashed. "Once when I was done shaving,
and twice while I was writing to Jack."
"While you were writing...?"
"Sure," Susan said dryly. "Don't you" -- she wiggled her
fingers -- "take care of yourself when you write one of
your fantasy letters?"
"After," Beth admitted. "But usually not during."
"Well, I was a little worked up. And I had to take the
old beaver for a spin."
Beth rolled her eyes and lifted Erin into her arms. "Are
you ready to go?"
"Changing the subject?" Susan teased, her eyes glinting
with mischief.
"Yes."
"You know I'm just going to bring it up after lunch. Or
rather, I'm going to bring it out."
"You have no shame, do you?" Beth didn't wait for an
answer. Instead, she began strapping Erin into the
stroller.
Susan picked up Paul. "Tell your mommy that Aunt Susan
has no shame."
"Aunt Susan has no shame," he parroted gleefully.
"You're a wicked woman, Susan."
"I know," she said, lighthearted and whimsical. "That's
why you love me."
That and more, Beth thought. That and more.
CHAPTER SEVEN
June turned into July, and the USS Ranger began her
final line period. The ship maintained her tempo of
operations even as she neared the end of her deployment.
But the atmosphere aboard changed when July turned into
August. Everyone seemed upbeat and eager. They were all
carefully subdued about it, though, since no one wanted
to jinx things at the last moment.
Jack was one of the last pilots to land on the carrier
before she steamed for home. He trapped on the four wire
-- he'd caught a gust over the fantail -- and taxied
forward under the direction of the yellow-shirt. Jerry
Schmidt trapped less than a minute later, the last of
the Warhorses to return to the ship.
Two straggling A-1 Skyraiders landed at forty-five
second intervals behind Jerry, and Jack could almost
feel the collective sigh from the ship's crew. An hour
later the sigh turned into a cheer when the captain
announced that the ship had turned for Subic Bay. From
there, they would sail to Yokosuka, Japan. After
Yokosuka, they would make the long Pacific crossing to
the good ol' US-of-A.
Home.
**
"What are you wearing to meet Jack?" Beth asked.
"I don't know yet," Susan said.
Beth shielded her eyes and glanced at her friend. Both
of them had darkened from their time in the sun, and
Beth liked how she looked without tan lines. She smiled
wryly -- she liked how Susan looked without tan lines,
even without the usual triangle of pubic hair.
After Susan's initial excitement had worn off, she'd
discovered a few problems with shaving. "It itches,"
she'd said with a grimace. Not only did it itch, but she
had to be careful not to chafe the sensitive skin.
Still, she liked the look, and she liked how it made her
feel, so she shaved nearly every day.
Beth had thought about trimming her own bush, but
decided not to. She might defy society in some ways --
nude sunbathing? a growing attraction to another woman?
fantasies of three-way sex? Scandalous, she thought with
a silent snort of derision -- but in other ways, she was
as normal as any other woman, and "normal" women had
pubic hair.
Susan wasn't abnormal, but she was definitely more
daring. Beth still felt a sense of taboo every time she
took off her clothes to sunbathe nude. She still felt
the thrill of forbidden pleasure whenever she snuck a
glance at Susan's body. And she still felt a bit guilty
-- only a bit, though -- whenever she thought about sex
with another woman.
"I thought we'd go shopping tomorrow or Thursday," Susan
was saying as Beth shook off her wandering thoughts.
"How's that sound?"
"That sounds fine."
"I want to buy something that'll really knock Jack's
socks off."
"Me too."
"Oh?" Susan said, smirking. "You want to knock Jack's
socks off too?"
Beth felt the usual blush mount her cheeks. Jack was
handsome, but she told herself not to think of her
friend's husband "that way."
Susan grinned and started to say something, but fell
silent, giving Beth a speculative look instead.
**
Shopping with a baby and a toddler wasn't Beth's idea of
a good time. Erin wasn't a problem, but Paul was willful
and sullen. Susan made a game of playing hide-and-seek
among the clothing racks, though, and he eventually quit
sulking.
"Kirk, Doug," Susan said at last, "why don't you take
Paul to the toy department. Here's a quarter," she
added, "so you can buy gum at the lunch counter. Buy
some for Paul too."
Beth smiled as Paul's eyes lit up.
"Okay, Mom," Kirk said.
With that, the three boys headed across the department
store, leaving Susan, Beth, and Erin in a sea of
relative calm.
"Thanks," Beth said.
"Don't mention it. Doug used to be the same way. He'd
mope and whine about going shopping, so I quickly
learned to bribe him. I don't let the boys have gum at
home, so a piece of Bazooka does wonders when we're
out."
"No kidding."
Susan laughed. "I'm probably a terrible mother, but I
refuse to argue with a three-year-old. They'll drag you
down to their level and beat you with experience."
Erin blinked in surprise as the two women laughed.
"So instead of arguing," Susan said, "I simply redirect
his attention. Works every time."
"I'll say."
"It's one of those tricks you learn with boys," Susan
said. "I don't know a thing about raising girls, though,
so you're on your own with Erin."
"Oh, I think I'll manage."
Susan smiled warmly. She started to say something else,
but then her eyes lit up. "Ooooh," she said, "look at
this." She held up a pale yellow sundress.
"Wow, that is nice," Beth said. Then she frowned. "But
isn't it too big through the bust?"
"It's not for me," Susan said. "It's for you!"
"Me?"
"Of course. I can't wear this color. Not with my hair
and complexion. But you, on the other hand, Miss Bleach
Blonde--"
"Unh!" Beth cried. "I don't bleach!"
"You might as well," Susan said, smiling to take the
edge off her words. "One day in the sun and you're dark
bronze with perfect golden hair."
"It wasn't one day," Beth muttered.
"It might as well have been. I couldn't get as dark as
you even if I lay out for months." She shrugged. "I just
have fairer skin. I like my complexion, but I still
can't wear a light yellow dress. And look," she added,
"these flowers on the bodice will pick out the blue in
your eyes."
Beth gave the dress an appraising look.
"If you get a satin ribbon to tie under your breasts,
it'll make them look bigger too."
Beth quickly looked around to see if anyone had
overheard.
"David's a breast man, right?"
"Susan!"
"Well, he is. And you've got fantastic breasts, so make
the most of 'em. He'll have to limp down the gangway
when he sees you."
"Susan!"
Susan smirked. "I wonder... If David's as well-hung as
you say he is, you might not want to wear this dress."
"Why not?" Beth asked, suddenly confused.
"He might pass out from lack of blood."
She felt her face blaze with heat.
"Well... he might."
"Can we change the subject?" she asked feebly.
"We can talk about Jack's dick."
Beth made a strangled noise.
"It might not be as big as David's, but I'm more than
happy with it. Besides, you know what they say: 'It's
not the size of the tool, but how you use it.'"
"Susan MacLean!"
"Well, it's true."
"Is that all you think about?" Beth asked.
Susan shrugged, unabashed. "It's been almost nine months
since I got laid. My fantasies are starting to have
fantasies of their own."
Beth found herself laughing in spite of her
embarrassment.
"Aren't you horny too?"
"Of course I am, but..."
"But what?"
"But..." Beth searched for an answer but ended up
rolling her eyes instead. "You're incorrigible."
Susan nodded smugly. "Yes, thank you, I am. Now, let's
find a changing room. I want to see how this dress looks
on you."
Beth felt a rush of heat through her cheeks for an
entirely different reason.
**
Beth tried on several other dresses, but she eventually
bought the yellow one. Susan tried on more than a dozen,
and finally decided on a salmon-colored dress with a
white summer-weight sweater.
"With your dress," Susan said, "you can go braless."
"I was planning to," Beth admitted, grinning and
blushing. At Susan's suggestion she'd also bought a
length of broad satin ribbon. It would certainly make
her breasts look bigger, but it would also accentuate
her hourglass figure and trim stomach. She didn't need
any help in the breast department, but she definitely
wanted to show off her flat tummy.
"I want to go braless, too," Susan continued, "and the
sweater will keep me from causing a scandal with the
other wives. Besides, I like the idea of greeting Jack
wearing only a dress and a sweater."
"You don't mean..."
"Of course I do," Susan said. "Don't tell me you were
planning on wearing panties."
"Well, I was thinking about it," Beth said half-
sarcastically. "It is the thing to do these days, you
know."
Susan waved a dismissive hand. "I want to tease Jack on
the drive home. It's tough to do that with panties on."
"You really are shameless, aren't you?"
"Only where certain people are concerned."
Beth had the sudden impression that she fell into the
category of "certain people," and she blushed deeper
still.
"If I can't be myself around you and Jack, then...
well... then life wouldn't be worth living!"
Beth grimaced for effect.
"I'm serious," Susan said. "I like not having to worry
about being condemned for who I am."
"I'd never do that."
"I know," Susan said softly. "That's why I can't imagine
life without you. Or Jack, of course. He takes me as I
am. He always has. David will too, I'm sure."
Beth nodded.
"If he was smart enough to fall in love with a woman
like you, then he's all right."
"Thank you," Beth said quietly.
"You know," Susan said, her mood suddenly enthusiastic,
"we should do something together when the guys get back.
Go on a vacation or something."
"That'd be nice."
"Just the four of us."
Beth felt a sudden pang at the thought of leaving Erin.
She didn't want to leave Paul either, but he wasn't
still a baby.
"My father could stay with the boys," Susan continued,
"and your mother could fly out to babysit Paul and
Erin."
Beth nodded, but she felt uncertain.
"It's just a thought," Susan said, curbing her
enthusiasm.
Beth pasted on her fake smile.
Susan saw right through it. "Maybe in a couple of
months," she said, "when Erin's older."
"That'd be better."
"Sometimes I forget what it's like with a baby," Susan
said. Then she shrugged. "It's something to think about,
though."
Beth nodded, wishing she felt more adventurous. She
didn't like disappointing her friend, but she didn't
like the idea of leaving her baby daughter, either.
"So," Susan said, changing the subject, "have you
thought any more about meeting David without panties?
He'll get a real thrill out of it, I'm sure."
Beth rolled her eyes, grateful for Susan's aplomb.
"I'm serious. No one will know but him -- and me, of
course -- and it'll drive him crazy. It'd drive me
crazy, that's for sure."
Beth noticed that Susan didn't add the semi-obligatory
"if I were a man."
"And with your legs... in that dress..." Susan
continued.
Beth merely listened, the hint of a smile crossing her
lips. She didn't know if she'd have the courage to meet
David sans underwear, but she definitely enjoyed
listening to Susan try to convince her.
**
Erin wrapped her hands around Beth's fingers and used
the leverage to pull herself up. She stood on unsteady
legs.
"Look at you!" Beth cooed.
Erin grinned and took a tottering step, still supported
by Beth's fingers.
The phone rang.
Beth made a happy, surprised face. "It's the telephone!
Who do you think it could it be?"
Erin looked toward the sound of the ringing. Then she
sat down abruptly.
"Here you go," Beth said, holding out a teething ring.
"You play with your ring while Mommy answers the
telephone."
Erin reached for the ring and immediately put it in her
mouth.
"I'm coming," Beth said to the phone as she stood. She
kept an eye on Erin and answered on the fifth ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sweetheart."
She frowned. "Who is thi -- ?" Her eyes flew wide.
"David?"
"Affirmative," he said. His voice sounded metallic and
distant.
"Where are you?"
"On the ship. I can't tell you exactly where we are,
but..." He laughed at himself. "What do I know? I don't
have a clue where we are."
She heard good-natured chuckles in the background.
"But listen," he continued, "I can't talk long. And
don't say anything you don't want the guys in the radio
shack to hear."
"Okay."
"I normally wouldn't fly a plane for the squadron fly-
in, since I'm too junior. But Commander Scarlatti has me
listed as a new dad."
Beth nodded to herself. "New dads" were men whose babies
were born while the carrier was at sea. When the ship
returned, they had the privilege of coming ashore before
anyone else. Among the squadrons, where the senior
pilots flew home a day ahead of the carrier itself, the
new dads landed first. Erin hadn't been born while the
ship was on cruise, but Beth wasn't going to complain if
Don Scarlatti wanted to bend the rules.
"Larry Reiter's wife is with her sick mother," David
continued, "and Ed Cousins is a bachelor, so they
offered to let me and Bob Weigand take their planes. So,
can you meet me at the base on Wednesday?"
Beth's heart raced. She'd been planning to drive to
Alameda on Wednesday, to spend the night and meet the
ship on Thursday. But the thought of seeing David a day
earlier filled her with sudden impatience. She had a
hundred things to do before then.
"Honey?"
She heard the uncertainty in his voice, and it broke her
train of thought. "Yes!" she blurted. "I'll be there
with bells on!"
Tinny laughter erupted in the background of the call.
"Well," David said, "you don't have to wear bells."
"I'll be there," she said again, quickly.
"Good," he said. "I can't wait to see you and the kids.
But I've gotta sign off. Bob has to call his wife."
"I love you," she said, heedless of who might hear. When
David hesitated for a moment, she imagined him in the
midst of the men in the radio room. She didn't care. He
was coming home!
"I love you too," he said at last. Stronger: "I can't
wait to see you. But I gotta go, sweetheart. Bob just
got here to make his call, and we can't tie up the radio
forever. I'll see you Wednesday. I love you. Bye."
She hung up and suddenly felt faint. David was coming
home! It hardly seemed real. Nine long months, and her
wait was over.
**
Jack's first glimpse of the US wasn't very inspiring: a
haze of clouds advertising the unseen land beneath them.
As the squadron flew east, a sliver of brown rose from
the ocean and became California. They made landfall over
Big Sur, the black ribbon of the Pacific Coast Highway
stretching away in either direction.
Jack checked the folded chart on his kneeboard -- it
looked so unfamiliar, without names like Hanoi,
Haiphong, and Thanh Hoa -- and did a quick calculation.
One hundred nautical miles, give or take, from Big Sur
to Lemoore. The skipper wasn't sparing Secretary
McNamara's fuel, either -- the squadron was cruising at
nearly 450 knots.
Once over land, they started descending, and Scarlatti
called for them to tighten their formation. Jack fixed
his eyes on Commander Featherston's plane and slowly
eased closer. The Old Man wouldn't call for really tight
formation flying until they were four or five minutes
out, and much closer to the deck.
The air over California was hot and full of thermals,
which buffeted the light A-4s. Jack concentrated on
Featherston's aircraft, making minor adjustments with
stick and throttle, maintaining his separation.
"All right, Warhorses," Scarlatti called when they
reached a thousand feet, "tighten up. Let's show 'em why
they give us all the glory."
"Sierra Hotel!" someone called, probably Ed Cousins.
Shit Hot, Jack translated, chuckling to himself.
"Boy, my fun meter is pegged," someone broke in, his
voice laconic.
"All right," Commander Waulk said coolly, "secure the
chatter."
"How do we look, Doodle?" Scarlatti asked Lieutenant
Commander Young.
As the squadron Maintenance Officer, Young was flying
the hangar queen, since he knew what parts it was
missing. Earlier in the day Jack had silently chuckled
as he'd watched Young preflight the ejection seat twice
before climbing into the cockpit. Since Young was the
most junior of the squadron's four senior officers, he
was also leading the three-plane flight at the rear of
their diamond formation. Consequently, he was in the
best position to judge their intervals.
"Tighten up, Smooth," Young said to Cousins. "You too,
Jerry."
Jack glanced away from Featherston's plane and watched
Jerry out of the corner of his eye. He was flying "the
slot," the rear point of their four-plane diamond. He
eased forward, the nose of his jet below and behind
Featherston's tailpipe.
Jack listened idly as Scarlatti talked with the air
traffic controller, getting final clearance for the fly-
by.
"All right, everyone," the Old Man said a minute later,
"this is it. Coming up on the runway..."
The formation tightened as the pilots dressed their
lines, double-checking their separations. Jack kept his
eyes glued to Featherston's starboard wingtip, a dozen
feet ahead and to the left.
"Over the threshold..." Scarlatti announced.
Jack imagined the crowd below, shading their eyes
against the noonday sun as they watched the tight
formation fly over.
Featherston's plane rocked as it flew through an
updraft, and Jack automatically adjusted with stick and
rudder. Formation flying was tough work, and the seconds
seemed endless.
"And we're past," Scarlatti said at last. "Break on my
mark... by the numbers, gentlemen."
Jack waited, his concentration wholly absorbed by
Featherston's wingtip.
"Ready..." Scarlatti called. "Break!"
Jack held his position while the pilots to his left
rolled out of formation and into the break turn, pulling
hard Gs through ninety degrees. He was flying on the far
right of the formation, so he would break last. The wait
stretched into an eternity, but was probably only twenty
seconds.
"Twelve," Jerry called at last, a delta-shaped flash of
wings in the corner of Jack's eye.
Jack counted two heartbeats.
"Nine," Featherston called, rolling vertical.
Another two heartbeats and then Jack called, "Eleven."
G-forces crushed him into his seat. He grunted and
watched his compass. Finally, he rolled horizontal at
the end of his turn.
As new dads, David, Bob Weigand, and Jerry Schmidt
landed first. The rest of the pilots landed in reverse
order of seniority, although David and the others held
short on the taxiway. It was their way of showing
respect for Commander Scarlatti, of giving him the honor
of leading the planes to the ramp area.
Jack snuck a glance and saw a crowd of people gathered
by the squadron hangar. Shore Patrolmen held them in
line, but the families in the crowd knew not to stray
onto the parking ramp itself.
The sun blazed through the canopy and Jack realized that
he was sweating. He wanted to search for Susan and the
boys, but he had to concentrate on taxiing. He gazed at
the plane ahead of him -- a mirage of heat blasted from
the tailpipe, adding to the shimmering waves coming from
the tarmac itself.
Time seemed to drag out, and Jack felt impatient as he
turned and parked his plane. He scanned the crowd as he
went through the routine of shutting down the engine.
A furnace blast of air hit him as the canopy whined
upward. It wasn't as humid as Vietnam, he thought, but
it was just as hot. His eyes were still scanning the
crowd as he climbed over the canopy rail.
The SPs had let immediate family members past the rope
barrier, and Jack saw a woman in a white and pink dress
running toward him. Two boys raced along beside her.
Susan!
He ran toward her and swept her into his arms. She felt
light as a feather as he swung her around, her clean
scent fresh in his nostrils.
He lost track of time. He hugged and kissed her. He
swept the boys into his arms and whisked them from their
feet. He set them down after a time and pulled Susan
close. He knelt and held them all, wishing his arms were
longer. Susan was crying tears of joy and relief, months
of built-up emotion released in minutes.
**
Beth ushered Paul under the rope when the uniformed man
lifted it for them. Then she ducked under herself, Erin
held close. She spotted David at once -- she knew his
gestures, his walk.
He still looked bewildered, scanning the crowd.
"David!" she yelled, waving.
He heard the sound and looked at her. Then his eyes
widened in recognition and he sprinted toward her. He
looked awkward in his G-suit, but he could've been
wearing a suit of medieval armor for all that she cared.
She reached for Paul and made sure he stayed close. He'd
been worried all day, worried that his father might not
remember him. She'd told him, "Of course Daddy remembers
you." She was a little worried herself, though, but when
David crouched, Paul ran to him. David scooped the boy
into a toss that ended with Paul in his arms.
Beth hugged herself to David's side a moment later,
careful to avoid crushing Erin. He smelled of spicy
cologne and sweat and jet fuel.
She held him close and buried her face in his chest,
heedless of the heat and stifling closeness. Finally,
she smiled up at him, tears stinging her eyes.
"Welcome home," she said.
**
Jack slid behind the wheel of Susan's station wagon and
then smiled at her. Behind them, Kirk and Doug were
being rambunctious, vying for his attention.
Susan turned. "Sit down, boys. I know you're excited
that Dad's home, but you can't hang over the front seat
while he's driving."
Jack chuckled to himself at the looks on their faces.
"Kirk," he said, "reach into the back and open my flight
bag. Pull out the two green packages -- and only the
green packages."
The boys' faces lit up at the thought of presents.
"There's one for each of you," Jack added. He and Susan
turned in their seats to watch.
The boys tore open the presents and marveled at the
Japanese character-writing on the boxes. The symbols may
have been unfamiliar, but the pictures were universal,
and the boys immediately opened the boxes to get at the
transistor radios inside.
"What do you say?" Susan reminded gently.
"Thanks, Dad," Kirk and Doug chorused, wholly absorbed
by the Japanese instructions.
Jack grinned to himself and started the car. Then his
grin turned sly and he looked sidelong at Susan.
She caught his look and arched an eyebrow.
"I've got something for you too," he said, "but it's for
later."
"Not too much later, I hope."
He had a hard time concentrating during the drive home.
Susan had opened her sweater, exposing her cleavage. Her
nipples were hard, and she wasn't wearing a bra. She'd
also tugged her skirt up, revealing her smooth, tanned
legs. At the thought of what lay between them, Jack felt
his dick swell.
She'd been tantalizing him for weeks about her shaved
pussy, but she'd refused to send a Polaroid. "I'm saving
it for when you get home," she'd said.
Well, he was home, and he wanted to see it.
As if on cue, she casually turned to face him, one thigh
resting on the seat. She looked nonchalant, but Jack
knew that she was putting on a show. In the backseat,
the boys were still engrossed with the radios, so he
rested a hand on her knee.
She flashed him a devilish smile. She could be a
shameless tease when she wanted to, especially when she
knew he couldn't do anything about it. She casually
tugged her dress higher, revealing the soft swell of her
thigh.
Jack drove with one eye on the road and one eye on his
wife. She languidly trailed one finger along her inner
thigh, as if inviting his eyes to follow. The pink dress
bunched around her hips and she made sure the boys were
still preoccupied. They were, so she flipped the dress
up and Jack caught his first glimpse of her smooth
pussy. He tried to get a better look and almost swerved
off the road.
She smirked at him.
Images of the Turkish girls flashed through his mind,
and his dick grew harder still. But the Turkish girls
were merely a summer conquest -- Susan was his wife.
He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but they were
drawn to the passenger seat, to her smooth pussy. Her
labia were tanned a light brown, the slit a darker line
between them. He reached between her legs and felt her,
teasing her with his fingertips.
She stifled a gasp, her eyes drooping closed in
pleasure. He felt a bead of moisture and spread it over
her slit. Her pussy lips parted and he spread her
moisture, acutely aware of the absence of hair. His dick
swelled insistently, trapped by his tight underwear and
flight suit. He looked up and tried to remember how
close they were to home. Then he glanced at the
speedometer.
Less than a mile to the house, he judged. Two minutes
till we hit the driveway... a minute and a half to
unload the car... a minute to send the boys outside...
thirty seconds to shuck my flight suit... I don't even
have to take off Susan's panties... He quickly did the
math. Five minutes, he thought impatiently. Five minutes
till I get the first nookie I've had in nine months.
He almost laughed in frustration -- five minutes would
seem longer than nine months had!
**
Beth lifted Erin from the car seat and glanced toward
the trunk. Paul wanted to help his daddy carry things
inside, and Beth almost laughed at David's look of fear
as the boy reached for his flight helmet. Instead, David
let him help with his flight bag -- practically
indestructible -- and Paul earnestly gripped one of the
handles.
Beth smiled at the two of them: Paul, serious and trying
to act grown-up; David, trying futilely to match his
son's gravity. Once inside, she had to suppress a grin
as Paul consciously imitated David by stretching the
kinks from his muscles.
"Paul, why don't you show Daddy the Tonka trucks Grandma
and Grandpa gave you for your birthday?" Beth suggested.
They were in his room, and it would take him a minute to
get them out of the toy box. She wanted some time alone
with David.
Paul grinned with three-year-old enthusiasm and raced
off. Beth set Erin on the carpet and gave her the
teething ring. Then she stood and moved close to David.
"I did something naughty," she said, standing on tiptoe
to bring her lips close to his ear.
He looked a question at her.
"I'm not wearing panties."
His eyebrows shot up.
She took his hand and slid it under her dress. She
swallowed hard as his fingers brushed her thigh and then
ticked her pubic hair. At the thought of pubic hair, she
wondered about Jack. Susan had been teasing him for
weeks, peppering her letters with comments about her
"new 'do."
David's fingertips brushed Beth's hooded clit and she
forgot about Susan entirely. Instead, she closed her
eyes and savored the insistent pressure as he spread her
growing moisture. She gasped when he slid a finger
between her labia. Her mouth watered at the thought of
sucking him, and she could feel his hardness through his
flight suit.
"Do you want to take a shower when I put the kids down
for their naps?" she asked, struggling to control her
desire.
"When will that be?"
She tried to concentrate. It was hard to do with his
finger on her clit.
"Soon?"
She gathered her wits and shook her head. Then she
looked at her watch. "At least an hour."
"What if I don't want to wait that long?"
"I don't want to wait that long," she said. "But we have
to."
"Then why'd you tell me you weren't wearing panties?"
"I wanted to make sure you were interested."
He barked a short, soft laugh. "I could pound nails
right now."
"Why don't you just pound me instead."
"Can we slip into the bedroom...?"
"Do you want a quickie? I could--"
He shook his head. "No, I want to take our time."
Reluctantly -- very reluctantly -- she pulled away and
smoothed her skirt. "Then we need to wait," she said.
"Can't Paul watch Erin?"
"Paul's three," she said. "No, he can't watch Erin."
David gave her a skeptical look.
"Men," she chided softly.
"It's not my fault," he said. Then he gestured at her,
his eyes smoldering. "If you didn't look so good, I
wouldn't be in the state I'm in."
Beth felt her insides go molten, and it took all her
willpower not to throw herself at him.
"I'm serious, Beth," he said, trying to undermine her
resolve, "you look sexier than ever. Better than the
blue dress, even."
She swallowed hard.
He stepped closer, his body hot and hard against hers.
"We can't," she said feebly. She inhaled the scent of
him. Her breathing grew shallow and she felt her face
flush. "When I put the kids down for their naps," she
said at last. "Okay?"
Fortunately, Paul saved her -- he raced into the living
room and tugged David's hand. "Come see, Daddy. I got a
bulldozer and a dump truck and..."
**
"I thought I'd fix lunch before the boys go play
outside," Susan said.
Jack stifled a growl of frustration.
"Can we have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Mom?"
Kirk asked.
Doug agreed with a hopeful smile.
"Sure," Susan said.
Jack changed into a comfortable shirt and shorts while
she fixed lunch. He needed a shower, but he wanted to
wait till he didn't have to take it alone. He joined the
boys at the dining room table. They happily told him
about friends, bicycles, television shows, and anything
else that came to mind.
He felt himself relaxing for the first time in months.
The sights of home, the sounds of home -- even the
smells of home -- were familiar and unfamiliar,
welcoming and foreign. He sensed familiar things as if
for the first time, in sharp detail. Susan teased him
with a look, but he merely smiled.
Eventually, the boys went out to play with their friends
-- they wanted to show off their radios. Susan shooed
them along with a maternal smile, but then flashed a
sultry look as soon as the door closed behind them.
Jack gestured her toward him, and she sat on his lap.
Her arm circled his neck and he drew her close for a
kiss. Her lips felt softer than anything he could
remember, and sweet, with a hint of peanut butter that
made him smile. He rested his hand on her bare leg and
then slid it up her thigh.
She broke the kiss and glanced down, her eyes sparkling
playfully. "Where does he think he's going?"
"Where do you think?" Jack asked roguishly. He continued
moving his hand up her thigh, but at a slower pace. He
could tease too, when he put his mind to it.
Susan's eyebrows rose. Oh? she asked silently.
He spread her legs.
She let him, her eyes dancing expectantly. Then she
grinned. "Did you bring me a radio too?"
He shook his head.
"Then what did you bring me?"
"You'll see..."
"When?"
He shrugged as indifferently as he could.
"Do you want me to guess?"
"If you'd like," he said.
"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
He paused theatrically, before saying, "Animal."
"Is it smaller than a breadbox?"
"Yes."
"What color is it?" she said, grinning. "Is it... pink?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Is it... long?"
He grinned smugly. "Long enough."
"Is it... hard?"
"Very," he said.
"So when do I get to see it?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. I'm trying to think of the right
time to give it to you."
"Can you give it to me several times?" she asked
disingenuously.
"If you'd like."
"Oh, I'd like. When?"
He tugged the shoulder strap of her dress and pulled it
over her tanned arm. Then he did the same with the other
strap. "How about now?" he said.
She reached behind her back and he heard the hiss of a
zipper. She leaned in to kiss him and he pulled the
dress down. It bunched at her waist and he caressed her
bare back as they kissed. Her skin felt warm under his
hands, soft and smooth. They were both breathless when
they finally broke the kiss.
"Stand up," he said. He tugged the dress over her hips
and she kicked it away. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt
and tossed it aside. Then he stood to take off his
shorts. With a grin, he scooped her into his arms.
She shrieked in surprise. "What are you doing?"
Instead of answering, he walked into the kitchen and set
her on the counter. His erection bumped the cabinet as
he leaned forward to kiss her. She responded eagerly,
her fingers light on his arms as he held her hips.
He wanted to fuck her -- Nine long months, he thought --
but he wanted to taste her shaved pussy even more. He
broke the kiss and spread her legs wider. Then he knelt
in front of her and put his hands on her inner thighs.
Her slit glistened with moisture.
His cheeks brushed her thighs as he moved in. She
scooted toward him at his insistent tug. He flicked his
tongue and made her gasp. He grinned to himself as she
gripped his head, holding him close.
He spread her labia with his fingers, inhaling the musky
scent of her arousal, feeling the warmth of her thighs
on his face. His lips met the smooth skin of her pussy a
moment later, his tongue delving into her, tasting the
tang of her juices.
She gasped again when he flicked the hood of her clit.
Her gasp turned into a moan as he began licking her, his
chin damp with her moisture. He buried his nose against
her soft skin. It took him a half-second to realize that
he liked her without pubic hair. Her bush wouldn't
tickle his nose as he went down on her. He wouldn't get
hair in his mouth, either.
With a grin, he stopped thinking and simply enjoyed
himself, his tongue working along her slit, teasing her.
He flicked her clit and then sucked, sending shivers
through her thighs. She moaned low and deep in her
throat, her hips rocking in time with his tongue.
When he finally pulled back, his cheeks felt cool from
the moisture. Then his skin began to tighten as her
juices dried. He stood and kissed her, and she responded
with passionate intensity.
Unlike many of the women Jack had been with, Susan liked
the taste of her own pussy. She liked the taste of other
pussies too, he thought with a grin.
After a moment she pulled back, her eyes ablaze. "I want
to suck you," she said.
Instead of answering aloud, he shook his head, lifted
her off the counter, and set her on her feet. Then he
turned her around and bent her over the countertop. She
groaned when he gripped her hips and eased his cock
between her legs.
Heat and moisture bathed the head of his dick. He pulled
back and angled his hips. Then he slid into her. He
closed his eyes and savored the sensations as her pussy
gripped him. He wanted to watch his dick enter her, to
see it part her smooth labia. He wanted to watch his
shaft slide in and out as he fucked her. But her pussy
felt so good that he wasn't willing to pull out and move
to the bedroom.
He began thrusting, his hips slapping her ass, filling
the kitchen with the sounds of their sex. Her back
swayed with each thrust, the muscles of her shoulders
flexing as they absorbed the shock of his body slamming
into hers. He fucked her steadily, with long thrusts
that made her cry out. The first twinges of orgasm had
just begun to tingle in his balls when the front door
burst open.
"Mom!" Kirk yelled.
They looked up in shock, their bodies still joined.
"Stay here," Susan panted, pulling herself out from
under him.
His dick slid out of her with a wet sucking sound and
she threw an apologetic look over her shoulder as she
headed to intercept their son.
"Mom!" Kirk shouted. "Can we...? Oh."
Jack could imagine the look on Kirk's face when he saw
his mother's nudity.
"What's going on?" Kirk asked.
"We thought we'd have a nudist dinner," Susan said
calmly. "Like we do at Granddad's house."
"Oh," Kirk said. "Neat."
Jack marveled at her quick thinking. He was still
breathing hard from the effort of fucking her, but she
was talking as if nothing were amiss, as if her nudity
was an everyday occurrence. He grinned wryly -- to her,
it was an everyday occurrence. She'd grown up a nudist,
and he sometimes had to remind himself that there was
nothing wrong with it.
"Where's Doug?" Susan asked from the front room.
"Oh, yeah," Kirk said, as if suddenly remembering why
he'd returned home. "Can Doug and I go play at the?"
"'May,'" she interrupted. "May Doug and I go play..."
Jack bit back a laugh at her automatic correction.
"Sorry," Kirk said. "May Doug and I go play at the
Valencourts'? Their dad just got home too. They got
these neat little pinball machine things, and we wanna
show 'em our radios."
Carl Valencourt was a pilot in the Warhorses' sister
squadron, VA-146.
"Is it okay with Mrs. Valencourt?" Susan asked.
"Uh-huh. Billy Galloway's goin' over there too. And his
little brother. So there'll be a bunch of us."
"Okay," Susan said to Kirk. "Be home by six so you can
get washed up for dinner."
"Thanks, Mom," he said. The front door slammed behind
him a moment later.
Susan rounded the corner into the kitchen and tried not
to chuckle at Jack's appearance.
He looked down at himself. He was still hard -- very
hard -- and he must have looked anxious. How am I
supposed to look? he thought a little irritably. There's
no place to hide in here. What was I supposed to do if
Kirk had come in?
"I'm sorry," Susan said, reading him perfectly. "It's
just..." She stifled a giggle and gestured helplessly at
him. After a moment she composed herself. "Would you
like to go to the bedroom?" she asked, almost
contritely.
"Can we lock the door?"
"We can do anything you want," she soothed.
"Anything?"
Her eyes sparkled. "Anything."
**
Beth rubbed Paul's back and listened patiently as he
talked. His father's return had him excited, and he
didn't want to take a nap. So Beth was letting him talk
himself to sleep. He'd been going strong for nearly ten
minutes, though, about all sorts of things.
"I'll probably need more blocks," he said matter-of-
factly, changing the subject. Again.
Beth hid a smile and said, "More? You just got some for
your birthday."
"More," Paul said seriously. "I wanna build a house for
Daddy and my new planes..."
David had brought him a set of toy airplanes from Japan.
"...and I don't have enough blocks for that. Mom? How
long till my next birthday?"
"Almost ten months," she said.
"Is that a long time?"
"Mmm hmm."
"How long till Christmas?"
"Not so long," she said. "Only four months."
"That's not so bad," he said, sounding exactly like Beth
herself.
She smiled at the thought. Then she glanced at her
watch. Her insides were practically molten with desire,
but she suppressed the urge and paid attention to her
son.
"I should ask Santa to bring me some blocks," he said.
"And maybe some of those logs... the kind Kirk and Doug
have."
"Lincoln Logs?"
"Uh-huh. I could build a cabin for me and Dad."
"Mmm hmm."
"Is he going to stay with us long?"
Beth suppressed a pang of regret. "Of course," she said.
"He lives here."
"Oh."
Unfortunately, when the Navy said "Jump," Lieutenant JG
David Hughes would have to jump, and ask "How high?"
after the fact.
"But how long is he going to stay?" Paul pressed.
"For a long time," Beth half-lied. "Now, let's play a
game," she said. "Why don't you see how long you can go
without asking a question. I'll time you, okay?"
He managed to last ten seconds before asking, "How long
has it been?"
"Not very long," Beth said. Mildly reproachful: "And
that was a question."
"Sorry."
"Try again."
He lasted twenty-two seconds.
"You're getting better," she said. "Ready to try again?"
He nodded and then yawned.
Beth sighed in relief and gazed at her watch. "Okay,
go."
This time, she counted quietly, "One... two... three...
four... five..."
At twenty seconds, she began counting by fives. At one
minute, she congratulated him and kept counting, her
voice a steady metronome of encouragement. A minute
later his eyes began to droop. He mumbled something, but
she gently stroked his temple and continued her count,
her voice soft and soothing. Finally, he closed his eyes
and they stayed closed. She waited until his breathing
grew regular.
She smoothed his hair and gazed down at him. He looks so
much like his father.
At the thought of David, she almost stood. But Paul was
so peaceful that she stayed by him, simply enjoying the
quiet. After a moment she kissed his forehead and stood.
When he didn't stir, she left the room and quietly shut
the door behind her.
David was waiting for her in the living room. He'd
changed into comfortable clothes and was sitting in his
chair with the newspaper. Her step faltered when she saw
his stormy expression. He folded the paper and tried to
look happy to see her. He wasn't a good actor.
She knew him well enough to realize that he was upset
about something he'd read, rather than something she'd
done (or not done). She also realized that he wasn't in
the mood anymore, so she pasted on her fake smile and
hid her disappointment.
"Paul's excited that you're home," she said, trying to
sound normal. "He was telling me about the cabin he
wants to build for you two."
At the mention of his son, David's expression changed
entirely. He smiled, and Beth felt her heart leap. It
was the same smile she'd fallen in love with, half
cocky, half bemused. He set the paper aside and gestured
for her to sit on his lap.
She rested her head on his shoulder and felt his tension
ease as she hugged him. He'd lost weight. She could feel
it in his chest and arms. His stomach was too hard
beneath his shirt, and his cheeks looked hollow.
His letters hadn't told her much about combat, but she
could read between the lines. He didn't eat enough when
he was under stress. He'd done the same thing in
college, losing fifteen pounds during one especially
tough quarter. She hoped to fatten him up with her
cooking and a relaxed home life. But first, she wanted
to take care of more immediate needs -- his and hers
both.
"How long will the kids be asleep?" he asked, as if
sensing her mood.
"A couple of hours."
He nodded.
"Do you want to...?"
He shook his head. "Not yet."
She looked a question at him. He shrugged, and she felt
a momentary jolt of anxiety.
"It's not that I don't want to," he said slowly,
searching for words. "But..." He shrugged again. "I
guess I don't want to rush things."
"We can wait," she said softly, although she wanted
anything but.
"I don't want that, either." He laughed, more at himself
than anything else.
"What?"
"I still can't believe I'm home..."
Beth frowned at the non sequitur.
"It's the same place I remember, but it's not. Does that
make sense? It's like my memory is black and white, but
the real place is Technicolor. It's almost... surreal."
She laid her hand on his chest.
"On the ship, all I could think about was home."
"And now that you're home, you think about the ship?"
she wondered, trying to keep the disappointment from her
voice.
He shook his head, almost angrily. Then he grew
thoughtful.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head again, although he looked sad more
than anything else. He chuckled apologetically.
"What?"
"I almost said, 'You wouldn't understand,' but that's
probably the most insulting thing I could say. It's not
your fault you can't understand."
"Understand what? Try me."
"The ship... Vietnam... It's a different place. I don't
want to bring it home with me."
"You don't have to if you don't want to."
He snorted softly.
"You don't," she insisted, unsure what else to say.
"Yes, I do. I can't help it. I want to leave it behind,
but I can't."
She wanted to ask "Why not?" but she bided her time. She
knew he'd answer the question in his own time.
"The men who plan the war..." he said slowly,
deliberately, "McNamara and the rest... they don't know
what they're doing. And they try to sell their
propaganda to us, as if we don't know what's really
going on. Worse, they're a bunch of Ivy League know-it-
alls, not fighting men." He scoffed. "None of them have
ever seen the elephant."
Beth didn't know what the phrase meant, but she
understood its implication.
"They're more worried about numbers than results," David
continued. "I talked to an F-105 pilot who -- and I
swear to God this is true -- who flew a mission with one
bomb. I'm not kidding. His squadron had eight bombs left
in the depot, but they needed to fly eight sorties to
meet their quota. One plane could carry all eight bombs,
but that would only count as one sortie. So they hung
one bomb on each plane and flew their mission.
"They risked eight guys' lives just for some bean-
counter quota," he said. "I'd like to send Secretary
McNamara into Route Pack Six with one bomb. We'll see
how long he lasts. Or let him attack a 'suspected ammo
dump' and see if he isn't pissed off that he just risked
his life to obliterate a patch of worthless jungle. And
don't even get me started on their dumbshit Rules of
Engagement..."
Beth didn't know what to say, so she did the only thing
she could -- she held him and reassured him with the
comfort of her body.
"The newspapers talk about what a good job we're doing,"
David said, "but they don't talk about what it costs, or
the utter stupidity of the armchair generals running
things from Washington, playing God with men's lives."
He took a deep breath.
"Ah, hell," he said at last. "What do I know? I'm just a
lieutenant, junior grade."
"But you were there," she said softly. "You did your job
and you did it well."
"Yeah."
"You came home, and that's all that matters."
"But what about the guys who didn't come home? What
about guys like Keith Olin? What about them, Mister
Secretary?"
Beth shushed him. "You can't do anything about Keith,"
she said, tears welling at the emotion in her husband's
voice.
"Yeah," he said sullenly. "That's the problem."
"The only thing you can do is live your life," she said
quietly. "You've got a son and daughter who love you,
and a wife who does too."
He looked at her and his eyes turned soulful.
"I know I can't possibly understand what it was like,"
she said, "but that doesn't mean I don't care. You can't
tell me all of it..."
He shook his head curtly.
"...and you probably don't want to. But I can still be
here for you. I always will be, you know. No matter
what."
He smiled ironically. Then he grew thoughtful, and gazed
at her quietly.
"You don't have to talk about Vietnam if you don't want
to." She shrugged. "You're not there now, you're here.
Here with your wife and your family. Here with the
people who love you."
"Yeah, you're right," he said at last.
"Of course I am," she said, smiling warmly. Then she sat
up and gazed at him, her expression serious. "You only
have one immediate problem to deal with."
"Oh?"
"Mmm hmm. Me."
His eyebrows arched.
"I've been waiting nine months for you to get home, and
if you don't make love to me soon, I'm going to
explode."
He grinned, cocky and amused. Then he turned serious.
She suddenly felt unsure of herself. "What?"
"You know... marrying you was the smartest thing I ever
did."
She gazed into his eyes and felt her own begin to fill
with moisture. Then she kissed him, hard. "I love you,"
she breathed between kisses. "I love you, and I've
missed you."
He reached for the satin bow at the back of her dress,
and she straddled his hips.
"I've missed you so much," she breathed as he untied the
bow.
**
"Spread your legs," Jack said.
Susan grinned mischievously. She spread her legs, but
laid her hand over her pussy.
Jack simply tilted his head with an unspoken command.
She moved her hand.
His glance flicked to her legs. "Wider," he said, his
eyes moving back to her hairless pussy. The lips parted,
revealing her pink inner folds. He grinned lecherously.
"Nice."
She gave him a playful look.
"Finger yourself."
She sucked her middle finger, her lips pursed as she
held his gaze. Then she deliberately buried her finger
in her pussy, her eyes never leaving his.
"Nice," he said, and began stroking himself. His balls
ached from earlier, but he didn't move toward the bed.
He wasn't patient, but he was disciplined, and he wanted
to make her wait.
She closed her eyes and began fucking herself with her
finger. She moaned softly, her flattened breasts
quivering as her finger moved faster.
He knew that she could get off by playing with herself,
but he also knew that she wanted to suck him. Her
orgasms were always strongest when she got off while
giving head. He smiled to himself and finally moved
toward the bed.
She opened her eyes when she felt him kneel beside her.
She gazed at his erection and unconsciously moistened
her lips.
"Do you want to suck me?" he asked, teasing her.
She nodded.
"Are you going to be a tease?"
She shook her head, her mouth open, yearning for his
shaft.
"Are you sure?"
She strained, silently pleading with him.
"All right," he said, shuffling forward on his knees.
She wrapped her lips around his shaft and sucked
greedily. He closed his eyes and grunted -- the head of
his dick was super- sensitive. He held her head and
thrust more of his cock into her mouth. She sucked hard,
her cheeks caving in. He threw his head back and tried
to concentrate on anything but the feeling of her soft
lips around his shaft. He wanted her to come before he
did, so he gazed at a point high on the wall.
Beneath him, Susan sucked his cock, taking it as deep as
she could. He could tell that she was close to orgasm.
She half- grunted and strained to swallow more of his
cock. A moment later her fingers went into overdrive and
she moaned around his shaft, her face crimson from
exertion. Then she let out an explosive breath and
stiffened.
When she finally relaxed, her breath whistled through
her nose as she nursed his cock. He let her rest for a
moment, but then slowly pulled his erection from her
mouth. His shaft was red and shiny, the head purple.
Susan stared up at him with sightless eyes. Then she
focused on his face and the look of intelligence
returned. She knew what he wanted, and she rolled to her
back with an inviting smile.
Jack spent a moment simply gazing at her hairless pussy,
moist and puffy from her fingers. Then he climbed
between her legs, his dick bouncing as he moved. He
lowered his hips and inserted the head. She gasped --
she was still sensitive -- so he took his time. When his
hips ground against her thighs, he stopped and simply
looked down at her.
Her eyes were glassy with lust, but filled with love.
She smiled up at him and stroked his arms, her chest
still heaving from her exertions.
"Okay," she said at last.
He arched an eyebrow, a final "Are you sure?" gesture.
Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. Then she
nodded.
His first thrusts were slow and gentle, until he was
sure she wasn't too sensitive. When she urged him on
with her eyes, he began moving faster, her breasts
bouncing with each thrust.
He didn't last long. The familiar pressure of an orgasm
began at the back of his balls and surged forward. He
sat back on his haunches and pulled out, his dick shiny
with her juices. He stroked himself once, twice, and
then groaned. He scooted closer, his cock aimed at her
pussy.
The first surge caught him by surprise, pleasure
exploding through his body, shooting along his nerves.
The second surge came a moment later, his dick gushing
as he stroked it. He closed his eyes and held his breath
as the sensation continued, his entire body stiff.
When he finally opened his eyes again, she was smiling
up at him. He relaxed and sagged back, panting. Then he
looked down at the white droplets of semen on her tanned
skin. A rivulet had run down her slit, making it even
shinier than her own moisture had.
She smiled and reached for him. He bent over her, his
shrinking erection trapped between them.
"Welcome home, sailor," she said, her voice husky with
affection.
"I bet you say that to all the guys," he said. Then he
kissed her, cutting off her reply.
She didn't seem to mind.
**
Beth held David's head as he nuzzled her breasts. Her
light yellow dress was bunched at her waist, the satin
ribbon long since discarded. David loved her breasts as
much as she loved his dick.
Her breath caught at the thought of his dick. She could
feel the bulge against her thigh, and her pussy was
slippery with desire, but she bided her time. What a
sacrifice, she thought wryly, enjoying herself as David
lavished attention on her nipples.
She wanted to unzip his fly and pull out his hard-on,
but she knew she'd never be able to. He was too long and
too hard, and his fly was simply too small.
Oh well, she thought gaily, I'll just have to take his
pants off. C'est la vie!
But first, she had to get his mouth away from her chest.
She didn't mind him sucking her nipples, but she had
more important things to suck.
She pushed him back and tilted her head to kiss him. His
face was smooth, his lips damp from licking and sucking.
She tasted his breath and inhaled a whiff of his spicy
cologne, which made her head spin with desire. She
finally broke the kiss and climbed from his lap.
With an eager look, she knelt between his legs. Then she
ran her hands along his thighs -- the heel of her right
hand pressed firmly against his trapped erection -- and
reached for his belt buckle. She undid it quickly,
popping the button of his pants a moment later. The
zipper hissed and she made a show of moistening her lips
in anticipation.
She didn't need to tell him to lift his hips. With
practiced ease, she pulled his pants and underwear down,
freeing his erection. She rose on her knees, her bare
breasts brushing his shins.
She inhaled the scent of his manhood as she kissed her
way up his thigh. Then she seized his shaft with one
hand and held it out of the way, tilting her head to
kiss his heavy balls. She couldn't hold back for long,
though, and felt her desire building to an
uncontrollable level.
He groaned when she surrounded the tip of his dick with
her lips. He groaned again as she swallowed him inch by
inch, her lips around his shaft, her tongue caressing
him. She wanted to swallow as much of him as she could,
but she knew he wouldn't last that long. Not the first
time, at least. She could suck him longer the second
time, but that was for later. Besides, she was as eager
as he was, and she wanted to taste him.
She bobbed up and down, her lips caressing the smooth
skin of his shaft. He grunted once and thrust his hips
upward. Beth smelled his come before she tasted it,
before she felt it gush against the back of her throat.
His dick pulsed and showered her tongue with a second
blast. She swallowed, the scent of semen filling her
nostrils. He shot a third time and then a fourth, the
spurts slowing to gushes and then to a trickle. She
swallowed, the heat of his come warming her throat and
chest.
He was still hard when she pulled back and grinned up at
him. He could have sex twice in ten minutes, the first
time quick, the second lasting much longer. The head of
his dick was usually too sensitive immediately after his
orgasm, though, so she made sure not to touch it.
She thought about playing with him until he was ready
for round two, but he had other ideas. He gently pushed
her away and stood up, his dick bobbing in her
direction. He looked down at her for a moment, his eyes
soft and full of love. Then he lifted her to her feet.
While he took off his shirt, she kicked away her dress
and stepped into his arms.
His erection pressed against her stomach as he held her.
She could feel his ribs, and a detached part of her mind
decided to fix a big dinner, complete with his favorite
dishes. But then she pushed that thought aside and
concentrated on his heartbeat. It was strong and
regular, thudding in time with the pulsing in his shaft.
They held each other for several long moments, neither
feeling the need to move. Then he gently lowered her to
the floor. He grinned above her and began kissing his
way down her chest. He paused to nuzzle her breasts
before going lower.
She squirmed in anticipation, her insides boiling with
desire. He spread her legs with his shoulders and she
reached down to run her fingers through the soft
bristles of his hair.
He swirled his tongue around her sensitive clit and she
cried out -- quietly, lest she wake the children. She
closed her eyes in ecstasy. He licked her again, his
tongue flicking upward. Her whole body tingled with
sensation, hot and liquid and electric.
He started licking her in earnest and she gripped his
head. Her legs rested on his shoulders, her feet flat on
the floor. He held her hips, his tongue wagging through
her folds, driving her higher. Her breathing grew
shallow and rapid, and she could feel her stomach
heaving with shockwaves of pleasure.
She wanted to cry out, to moan in pleasure, but she bit
her lip instead. She could imagine Paul walking from his
bedroom and discovering them on the living room floor.
She almost laughed at the mental image of herself
explaining what Daddy had been doing to Mommy. She
didn't think "eating pussy" would make sense to a three-
year-old.
Fortunately, David sucked her clit and she forgot all
about her son. He sucked again and she forgot her name.
What's in a name? she thought whimsically, trying not to
giggle.
Her nascent laughter turned into a groan as David
flicked his tongue along her slit. She held his head and
bucked her hips, trying to force more of his mouth
against her mound. He obliged, and hot waves of pleasure
rushed through her body.
It took her a moment to realize that David had stopped
licking her. Instead, he was settling himself above her.
His dog tags swung before her eyes like a hypnotist's
bauble, but he threw them over his back. She focused on
his face for a moment, but then she felt the fat head of
his dick at her opening.
She gasped and clamped her eyes shut at the immense
pleasure as he slid inside her. Heat and pressure
assaulted her, and she imagined she could feel every
inch -- every vein -- as he buried himself inside her.
Someone groaned when his hips ground against her. After
a moment Beth realized that she'd made the guttural
sound. She groaned again and pulled David down to kiss
him.
Fireworks burst in her brain and she kissed him with
fiery passion, tasting her own juices on his lips. She
had a flash of Susan and immediately thrust her hips
against him.
He began moving within her, his thick shaft spreading
her open with each thrust. She felt her muscles
contracting with the first twinges of orgasm, but David
simply battered through, driving her higher.
Between imagining what Susan's pussy would taste like
and the pounding of David's dick, Beth quickly lost
herself. Her orgasm started small but built to a
crescendo, rolling over her like a symphony of sight and
sound and feeling.
She caught glimpses of David's surprise at the
unexpected tightness of her pussy. She heard him grunt
as he forced himself through her clenching muscles. She
closed her eyes, ecstasy overwhelming her senses.
Her first orgasm had barely died away when she felt the
second one building. David continued pounding into her,
his dick hitting something deep inside her and sending
her over the edge, plunging her into a shuddering,
rolling climax.
She lost track of time.
She felt the aftershocks as mere ripples in a surface
left calm by the passage of two big waves. She felt
every sensation as David moved, burying his manhood deep
within her. She even felt the heat of his semen as he
filled her.
Her stomach quivered and she held him, her face buried
in the hollow of his neck, her legs spread to
accommodate him. He panted from his own exertion, and
Beth realized that her mouth was cottony. She swallowed,
her chest still heaving with the effort to breathe.
David held most of his weight off her, but she still
felt the comfortable heaviness of his body atop hers.
She spared a passing thought for her fantasy of tasting
Susan's pussy, but merely smiled at the naughty images.
A year before, she would've been appalled by the thought
of sex with another woman.
But that was before Susan.
She hugged David, wondering what it would be like to
watch him have sex with someone else. But then a thought
occurred to her. Her eyes snapped open and she almost
jerked in shock.
What if Jack wants to have sex with me?
David roused a moment later and began to kiss the nape
of her neck. His dick had softened within her and it
slipped free as he moved. She knew him well enough to
realize that he'd revive soon enough. He did that
sometimes when he was especially horny.
She snorted softly -- after nine months at sea, he'd
better be especially horny. She gazed down at him as he
kissed her nipples. With a smirk, she wondered if Jack
could go three rounds in thirty minutes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"So," Jack asked as he and Susan lay in bed, "what's the
verdict on David and Beth? Are they the right couple?"
He felt Susan give him a quizzical look.
"Didn't you read my letters?" she said, more teasing
than upset. "Didn't I tell you that I was in love with
Beth? I seem to recall you telling me that David had a
bit of a crush on me. Or was I imagining that?" she
finished sweetly.
"Okay," he said, trying to surrender gracefully.
"And didn't you tell me that Beth was the sexiest woman
you'd ever met?"
"The second sexiest."
"And didn't you point out -- way back when we first met
them -- that David was my type?"
"All right," he said, raising his hands, "you got me."
"Men," she huffed. "You think with your dicks." She
rolled toward him and gripped the dick in question.
"Unfortunately, there's not much room for memory down
there." She threw off the sheets and sat up. "That's
okay," she said to his dick, as if to a small child,
"you do other things I like, so I've decided to keep
you."
"Why did I have to marry a witty woman?" Jack asked the
ceiling.
It didn't respond.
Susan straddled his hips and gazed down at him. "You
couldn't resist my womanly charms."
"I couldn't resist your blowjobs."
"Well," she said theatrically, "there was that."
"Seriously, though," he said, "are David and Beth the
right couple?"
"I think so. No... I know so. I just have no idea how to
broach the subject."
He barked a laugh. "No kidding. I can't just buy David a
beer and
say, 'Hey, buddy, d'you wanna fuck my wife?'"
"How do you think I feel?" Susan said. "I'm supposed to
be the one with all the experience."
He grinned up at her. "We're a fine pair, aren't we?"
She rolled her eyes. Then she lapsed into thought. "I
think we should get away for the weekend."
"How about Hawaii?"
"Someplace closer. And remember, David and Beth aren't
made of money."
"Vegas?"
"That's an idea," she said. Then she frowned. "No. Too
many distractions. And too few chances to get naked
together."
He nodded sagely, although he hadn't considered either
point.
"We need someplace relatively private, so Beth and I can
sunbathe nude."
Jack grinned to himself when he realized that he'd
slipped into a daydream about Beth's body.
"And we need someplace without too many distractions,
without Frank Sinatra and showgirls."
"Unless you like that sort of thing," he quipped.
She scowled at him. "This was your idea, remember?"
"You didn't try very hard to talk me out of it."
She grinned in admission.
"So where can we go?"
"My father's would be the perfect place," she said. "But
it's two thousand miles away."
"Why can't we go to a local camp? Didn't you say there
are some down toward LA, or up toward San Francisco?"
She nodded, but then shook her head. "On second thought,
my father's wouldn't be the perfect place. Or any other
nudist camp, for that matter."
"Why not?"
"Beth is comfortable taking off her clothes, but what
about David? Besides, I don't know the camps around here
very well. Some of them can be pretty... conservative...
and I'd imagine they frown on swingers."
He nodded.
"If we want to introduce Beth and David to the nudist
lifestyle, we need to do it gradually... or privately.
It's one thing to take off your clothes in the privacy
of your own home, but quite another to do it at a camp
with forty or fifty strangers."
"Yeah, I see what you mean," he said. It had taken him a
while to get used to it himself.
"And another thing," Susan said after a moment. "Beth
doesn't really want to leave Erin, and I can't blame
her."
Jack arched an eyebrow in silent question.
"I wouldn't leave a nine-month-old either. In a couple
of months," she mused, "who knows? But now?"
"So we wait," Jack said, feeling his heart sink.
"If we want to do anything more than a quick getaway,"
Susan said apologetically, "yes."
Jack shrugged, although he rarely dwelt on
disappointment. Instead, he tried to find a way to get
what he wanted in spite of the obstacles. "Well," he
said at last, "that'll give us some time to decide what
we want to do."
"And it'll give me time to figure out how to approach
Beth. I really don't want to screw this up, Jack," she
said, uncharacteristically nervous. "I meant what I said
about being in love with her. And I don't want to mess
things up because I'm horny. Or because you're horny. If
we just want to get laid, we can go to Las Vegas after
all. I'm sure we could find some willing showgirl for
the weekend."
"That's not what I want, and you know it," he said
softly, without reproach. "That's not what you want
either."
She shook her head.
"If I just want to get laid," he said, "I'm sure I could
pick up a woman for us." He paused for a moment and then
chuckled ironically. "I never thought I'd say this, but
I don't want to have sex with just anyone."
She looked a question at him.
He shrugged. "I don't. I'm getting too old to simply
stick my dick into the first sexy young thing that comes
along."
"Listen to you," she chided gently. "Twenty-nine and
you're already an old man."
"I'll be thirty soon."
"In eleven months," she said, rolling her eyes.
"That's 'soon.'"
"Listen, old man, you'd better be ready to 'stick your
dick' into this sexy young thing," she said, tapping her
chest.
"'Young' is right," he teased. "You don't look a day
over twenty- six."
"Ha! I'm young enough. Besides, Beth's twenty-four...
younger and sexier."
"Oh, I don't know about that," Jack said, recognizing an
opening for a compliment when he heard one. "She may be
younger, but she's not sexier."
"Oh?"
"Trust me," Jack said. "Would I lie to you?"
"If you thought you might get lucky, yes."
He paused for a moment, as if considering. Then he
grinned, roguish and confident. "Okay, I'll give you
that. But I'm not lying in this case."
She arched an eyebrow, mock-skeptical.
"I'm not," he said. "Beth might be younger, and sexy as
hell, but she'll never be as sexy as you."
"Sure, you say that now...," Susan teased, "but--"
He suddenly rolled them over and came to rest above her,
his half-hard cock pressed against her pussy. "Why don't
we ask the expert," he said.
Her eyebrows shot up.
He glanced between their bodies, at his burgeoning
erection.
"You're going to ask him?"
"Sure," Jack said light-heartedly. "He knows sexy when
he sees it."
"I bet you say that to all the girls."
He shook his head. "Only the ones who marry me."
"Oh, Jack," she said softly. "I love you."
"I love you too," he said. Then he rubbed his dick along
her smooth slit, spreading her growing moisture.
"Especially since you're willing to indulge my
fantasies."
"They're my fantasies too," she said.
"Even better."
"Even better," she agreed as his erection nudged her
clit. "E-ven better."
He pushed himself upright and sat back on his haunches,
gazing down at her. She smiled, her fingertips tracing a
lazy pattern over his forearms. With a shameless grin,
he glanced at her pussy. He moved his hips, sliding his
hard-on over her slit. Then he pulled back and gripped
his shaft.
Her labia parted as he spread her moisture with the tip
of his cock. He liked the look of her shaved mons, how
the smooth, tanned mound tapered to her rounded lips.
The brown of her skin contrasted with the pink of his
shaft and the darker pink of his crown. Her own pink was
lighter, turning rose-colored as her inner lips grew
plump with arousal.
He nudged her opening. Then he dragged the bulbous head
upward, her inner labia flaring around it. She gasped
when he pressed it against the hood of her clit.
She closed her eyes, the lids a darker shade, flushed
with arousal. Her stomach quivered with pent-up desire,
and her breathing grew heavy. He let his gaze wander
down her body.
When he nudged the tip of his dick inside her, she
gasped with anticipation. Then he slid the first two
inches into her, her labia parting like the bow wave of
a boat. He almost laughed -- her pussy did look like a
bow wave.
She moaned softly as he buried more of himself inside
her. When he finally ground his pelvis against her, her
mouth fell open in a silent cry of pleasure.
"I like your shaved pussy," he said at last.
"And she likes you," she panted.
He eased his hips back, his cock sliding from within
her, shiny with her juices. He paused, with only the
head still inside her. She moaned impatiently. With a
grin, he slammed into her. Her breasts bounced with the
force and she cried out.
He did the same thing again, pulling back till only the
head remained inside her, and then burying himself in
one powerful lunge.
"Fuck... me..." Susan gasped. "Oh, fuck me."
He smirked. How could he refuse an offer like that?
He began thrusting slowly, captivated by the sight of
his cock sliding into her and then emerging again. His
desire got the better of him, though, and he began
thrusting faster. When he felt the familiar tingle at
the back of his balls, he began thrusting as deep as he
could, grinding his hips against her each time.
The tingle turning into a growing pressure, his senses
buzzing with the need for release. Finally, he rammed
home and exploded. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw
spots, his breathing hard, his mouth dry and cottony. He
collapsed forward and held her, his dick still hard
within her, their panting in sync.
"I love you," she whispered, wrapping her legs around
his thighs and pulling him tighter against her.
"I love you too," he said. "More than I'll ever be able
to tell you."
**
Over the next few days, Jack and Susan talked,
suggesting places for a vacation with David and Beth.
The suggestions ran from San Simeon to Acapulco, but
none really appealed to them. Most places weren't
private enough. Many weren't close enough. Some simply
weren't practical. When Jack suggested they just stay
home and have a private party at their house, Susan
shook her head.
"I didn't realize it at the time," she said, "but coming
to the camp was an escape for most of the couples my
parents knew. They could have fun and then go back to
their jobs, their families, the Rotary Club, whatever.
We need someplace like that."
"Like the Rotary Club?" Jack teased. "My father was a
Mason, but I didn't realize they had those kinds of
meetings."
She scowled at him, half playful, half serious. "You
know what I mean. We need to go someplace unusual,
someplace adventurous."
He turned serious and nodded.
"But someplace relatively private," she added, "where we
don't have to worry about causing a scene."
"Well, I don't have enough money to buy a private
island. Your father does, but I don't think he'd be
willing to part with it."
Susan laughed. "He's not that rich."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You might not think so, but
trust me, he is. I thought my family was wealthy, but
that was before I met yours. My parents left me a lot of
money when they died. But your father...? His estate
will be worth millions. Maybe even tens of millions.
That's a lot of money, Suz."
"Money can't buy happiness."
Susan's grandfather had owned several textile mills in
South Carolina. The son of a Scots immigrant, Murdoch
York started with little more than the shirt on his
back, but had built an empire. According to Susan, he'd
been frugal to the point of being a miser, and had died
unhappy.
His son, Susan's father, had a much greater appreciation
for the things money made possible. Douglas York was
still a Scot, though, and had turned his inherited
wealth into an even greater fortune. But he also gave
back to the community, endowing scholarships, university
chairs, and research grants, as well as funding land
conservation and forestry projects.
Like most truly wealthy people, Susan thought it was
gauche to talk about money. She understood finance
better than most women -- better than most men, Jack
admitted -- but she didn't flaunt her wealth. He
certainly hadn't married her for her money, but he
sometimes found himself thinking about the possibilities
(and responsibilities, he sternly reminded himself) that
came with so many zeroes in a bank account.
"We can't buy a private island," Susan said firmly,
pulling him back to the present.
"No, we can't," he said. "Pity, too, because it'd be
perfect: private and cozy, surrounded by the ocean,
nothing to do but..."
"What?" she asked when the pause lengthened.
"Hold on, that's exactly what we need," he said at last,
"a private island."
"What're you talking about?"
"I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner."
"Think of what?"
"A private island...?" he prompted. "Surrounded by the
ocean...? Nothing to do but soak up the sun and enjoy
the weather...?"
"I'm sorry, Jack," Susan said, with the barest hint of
irritation, "but I don't get it."
"A wooden island...?" he said. "A floating island...?"
"What are you talking about?"
"A boat, honey! We can go on a cruise."
"Like the Queen Elizabeth?"
"No," he said, "like the Mistral."
She blinked, obviously confused. She always associated
the Mistral with his parents: the Mediterranean had
claimed two more souls when the boat sank in a storm. He
didn't think about them very often, but when he did, he
remembered his father's dignity, or his mother's
graceful, austere beauty.
When he thought about the Mistral, however, he
remembered the feel of the living deck beneath his feet,
the scent of the sun- warmed wood, and the song of the
wind in the rigging. He also remembered the happy days
of regattas up and down the East Coast, or his summer in
the Aegean.
He hadn't had a boat of his own since he'd sold his
Concordia yawl when he transferred to the West Coast,
but he still knew enough people in the yachting world
that he'd be able to find a boat to borrow or rent. And
a sailing cruise would be the perfect blend of adventure
and privacy.
He quickly explained.
"A sailboat would be perfect!" Susan exclaimed. "We
wouldn't have to worry about gawkers, or distractions,
or anything else, for that matter."
"Exactly."
"Where could we go?"
He imagined a map of the West Coast. "Maybe down to
Catalina Island or San Diego. Someplace sunny... maybe
even Mexico. But I'll have to find a boat first. And we
can't leave soon, even if I do find one."
"Why not?"
"Hurricane season," he said simply. Years of flying and
more years of sailing had given him a healthy respect
for the weather.
Susan's face fell.
"I don't want to get twenty or thirty miles offshore and
have to run for shelter in a big blow. Or worse, get
caught out there with an inexperienced crew. David's a
pretty good sailor, but he doesn't have much foul
weather experience. Does Beth even know how to sail?"
"She hasn't mentioned it," Susan said.
"And you've been sailing before, but only as a
passenger," he said. "You've never worked the boat."
"How hard is it to learn?"
"The basics are easy to pick up, but it takes a lot more
experience than you'd think. And things can get dicey if
the weather turns ugly."
"So, when does hurricane season end?"
"November 30th, but I'd feel comfortable leaving a
couple of weeks before then. Besides, we want warm
weather for sunbathing. So our best bet would be to wait
till the first of November, and plan something down
south."
"Will it be warm enough then?"
He nodded slowly. "Even in November, San Diego is
usually in the seventies. It'll be colder at night, of
course, but you'll have me to keep you warm. And maybe
David."
"Or Beth," she shot back, her eyes playful and
challenging.
He agreed with a wry grin. Then he turned serious again,
thinking about the different possibilities. "You talk to
Beth," he said at last, "and I'll take care of the boat
and the destination. Okay?"
She nodded, and Jack felt the same excitement he saw in
her eyes.
**
Beth and Susan spread their towels on the lounge chairs
and sat down. The chairs had been Beth's gift to
herself. With David's flight pay, combat pay, and
promotion, they had quite a nest egg saved up. He even
wanted to buy her a new car. His parents had never owned
more than one at a time, and it was a point of pride for
him that he could afford two.
Beth unbuttoned her blouse and took it off without a
hint of reserve. She slid off her shorts and then lay
back on the chaise. Susan took longer to get undressed,
as if putting on a show. Beth felt a twinge of guilt as
she watched through slitted eyes.
Finally, Susan settled to the chair and lay back. "Jack
and I were thinking of a vacation," she said casually.
"Maybe a cruise."
"That sounds glamorous," Beth said.
"Actually, we're thinking of something smaller."
"Oh?"
Susan shielded her eyes and nodded. "Jack loves to sail.
His parents used to have a boat..."
"The one you told me about?" Beth asked tentatively.
"The one that... you know?" She knew how Jack's parents
had died, and she felt a rush of renewed sympathy for
him.
"Yes," Susan said simply.
Beth felt guilty for bringing up the subject. "I
shouldn't've said anything," she said at last.
"No, don't worry about it," Susan said. "Actually, I was
thinking about something else. Something good," she
added hastily.
Beth looked a question at her.
"My parents loved each other very much..." Susan began.
Beth nodded, relieved by her tone.
"Part of that was because of their sense of adventure,
their love of life."
"Their joie de vivre."
"Exactly." Susan paused to consider her next words.
"Another reason they had such a strong relationship was
because of their friends."
Beth propped herself on her elbow. She tried not to let
her gaze wander as Susan did the same.
"My parents had a very close group of friends... people
they trusted... people they shared common goals with,
common principles. I always knew how important their
friends were, but I never experienced it myself until we
met you and David."
Beth didn't know where the conversation was going, but
she sensed the impending revelation. "We feel the same
about you and Jack," she said.
The barest hint of a blush crossed Susan's face, and she
smiled.
Bashfulness was an uncommon look for her, and Beth hid
her surprise.
"Jack and I were talking about it, and we thought you
and David might like to come with us on the cruise. Not
anytime soon," she said quickly.
Beth relaxed.
"In five or six weeks."
"Oh... Okay."
"And only if you're comfortable leaving Erin and Paul
with your mother, or your sister."
Beth burst out laughing. "Not my sister. She's entirely
too... well... I don't want to say 'irresponsible,'
but..."
Susan nodded in understanding.
"Maybe my parents would like to come out for a couple of
days. My father wants to take Paul to Disneyland. And my
mother wants to see Erin again."
Even though Beth was the youngest of three, she was the
first to have children of her own. Hank was still sowing
his wild oats, and Ginny's husband didn't want children.
So Beth's parents doted on Paul and Erin, their only
grandchildren.
"My father wants to take Kirk and Doug to Washington,
D.C.," Susan said. "He says it's important for them to
see the capital."
They grew quiet for a moment, each wrapped in her own
thoughts.
"It'd mean a lot to Jack and me if you and David could
come with us on the cruise," Susan said at last. "I
don't know where we're going, and I don't know exactly
when, but I'd... we'd... like to spend some time with
you."
Beth felt an electric tingle. "I'd like that," she said
softly. Then she remembered herself. "I mean, we'd like
that." She felt her cheeks heating.
Susan chuckled. "We're both so transparent."
Beth's face turned brighter still.
"Talk to David," Susan said at last.
"Oh, I'm sure he'd love to go," Beth blurted. Then, more
demurely: "But I'll talk to him."
**
"So that's what they want to do," Beth said, finishing
her explanation.
David enjoyed sailing, although he didn't have nearly as
much experience as Jack. Beth had been on a boat several
times, with her brother or with David, and she enjoyed
it. She knew she'd never be a "salty dog," but she loved
the water and she didn't get seasick.
The more she thought about it, the more excited she
became. The idea of spending several days with Susan
held an obvious allure. She still felt a pang of guilt
at the idea of leaving Erin and Paul, but her parents
were more than capable of taking care of them.
They did well enough with Hank, Ginny, and me, Beth
thought wryly.
"A sailing cruise, huh?" David said, drawing Beth back
to the conversation.
She nodded. "Jack didn't know where, or when, but he's
calling some people he knows."
David's eyes glowed, but Beth couldn't tell if it was
the prospect of sailing, or... something else. With a
sudden flash of insight, she realized that he was
probably thinking about Susan. He knew she was a nudist,
and if he felt the same way about her that Beth did...
She grinned at the thought, since it fit so perfectly
with what she wanted.
He suddenly composed himself. "Jack and I will have to
request leave."
Beth nodded tersely, to hide her growing excitement.
"We'll have to check the tides and weather," he
continued. "Jack has a lot more sailing experience than
I do, which is good. I'm a decent coastal sailor, but I
don't know if I could handle the open water navigation.
Although," he mused, "it's not that different from
aerial navigation, now that I think about it. Only
without TACAN, VOR, or DME."
Beth didn't know what the alphabet soup of initials
stood for -- different kinds of navigation equipment,
obviously -- but David's enthusiasm was plain enough.
"Still, I think I could manage it," he finished.
"Besides, it'll give you a chance to get to know Susan
better," Beth said, testing her theory. David rewarded
her with a too- casual shrug. She silently laughed at
herself. Never in a million years would she have
imagined she'd be happy that her husband had the hots
for another woman. "She and I are a lot alike," Beth
said, setting her hook, "and I'm sure you wouldn't mind
seeing us sunbathe topless."
David didn't blush very often, but he was adorable when
he did.
"Although," she continued shamelessly, "we usually
sunbathe nude."
"Well, I don't know about that..."
"Oh, don't be such a prude," she said gently. "You know
you'd like to see two sexy women in the buff. Admit it."
His blue eyes searched hers, as if looking for the right
answer.
"Maybe we want you to look."
His eyebrows shot up.
"You know where Susan grew up," she said. "And she likes
men looking at her... but only certain men."
His look of surprise turned to disbelief.
"I think you fit the bill," she stage-whispered.
"Besides, you should see her shaved pussy." He almost
choked, and she grinned whimsically. "Yep, she's
completely bald down there. Jack asked her to shave. She
likes the look, so she keeps doing it."
"Do you two really talk about this stuff?" David asked,
practically agog.
Beth nodded. "We talk about all sorts of things when you
guys are away. I think it has something to do with not
getting enough."
"Enough what?"
Beth smiled with affection and amusement. She knew she
shouldn't tease him, but she couldn't help herself.
"Never mind," he said. "I get it."
She leaned close. "We talk about all sorts of things,"
she said, her voice husky with growing desire. "For
instance..." She let his anticipation build. "Susan was
impressed when I told her how big you are."
"'Big,' as in...?"
She held her palms apart, about the length of his dick.
"You're kidding!"
"Nope. She knows all about you, big boy."
"Oh, my God," David said, only half facetiously. "I
married a madwoman."
"No, not a madwoman," Beth said, "just a horny one. You
should feel lucky, though. I know plenty of women who
don't enjoy sex. Do you think their husbands look
forward to coming home to them? Why do you think Frank
Waulk is so uptight all the time?"
"You've got a point," he said. "But still, did you have
to tell Susan about my... you know?"
"Your dick?" she practically cooed. Her eyes sparkled.
"No, I probably didn't have to tell her, but I guess I
was bragging a little."
His blush returned.
"Besides," she continued, "Susan knows me better than
anyone. We don't keep many secrets." Except one, Beth
silently added, thinking about her attraction to the
other woman.
David was speechless.
She took pity on him and decided to change the subject.
Then, in a fit of mischief worthy of Susan herself, she
had an idea. She scooted closer and peeled back the
sheet, exposing his pajama bottoms. "Why don't you start
sleeping in the nude," she suggested.
"Why?"
"Because I like the feel of your body next to mine," she
said. She wore the top to his pajama set, but silently
vowed to stop wearing it in the future. She toyed with a
button, drawing his eyes to her cleavage. "I will if you
will," she said.
"Will what?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'll sleep nude if you do. It'll
be fun. We can pretend we're nudists."
"Nudists?"
"Mmm hmm." She tucked her feet beneath her and began
unbuttoning the pajama top. "Don't you want a nudist for
a wife?"
"I'll never get any rest," he said, half joking, half
serious.
She admitted the truth with a rueful grin.
"But yeah," he said at last, "that sounds like fun." He
shucked his pajama bottoms.
Beth eyed his half-hard dick as she tossed her pajama
top aside. "Is that for me?" she asked disingenuously.
"Are you going to tell Susan about it?"
"Of course," she said cheerfully.
He reached for her. "In that case, I'll give you
something to talk about."
**
With the Yellow Pages in hand, Jack spent the better
part of a day confirming what he already knew. Several
marinas on the coast had sailboats for rent, but all
were under 30', for coastal day- sailors. He wanted a
live-aboard cruiser with a full galley and plenty of
berths. Boats like that were seldom for rent.
He decided to widen his search. Unfortunately, all of
his yachting contacts were on the East Coast. The people
in those circles proved the old adage "It's not what you
know, but who you know." Fortunately, he knew a lot of
people, and his first call was to the commodore of the
Charleston Yacht Club. The man was an old family friend,
and would provide the best entree into the ranks of the
West Coast yachtsmen.
After the obligatory condolences for Jack's parents, the
commodore gave him the names of several men: the
harbormaster for Catalina Island, and the general
managers for the Los Angeles Yacht Club and the St.
Francis Yacht Club, in San Francisco.
Jack called Catalina Island first, but the harbormaster
was on the docks. He left a message and said he'd call
back. Then he dialed the number for the Los Angeles
Yacht Club. A man answered on the fourth ring.
Jack said, "I'd like to speak to Stephen Boynton,
please."
"Sorry, man, he's on the other line," the man said.
"Who's calling?"
"Jack MacLean."
"Okay, lemme see -- Hold on, did you say Jack MacLean?"
Jack's brow furrowed. "Yes. MacLean. M-A-C--"
"The MacLeans of Charleston?"
"Yes, why?"
"You used to sail a trim little Concordia yawl?"
"Yes," Jack said, trying not to sound irritated. "Who is
this?"
"Jack! It's Lewis Sutherland. How the hell are ya?"
Lewis Sutherland was a few years older than Jack. His
father was a wealthy banker and a regular on the East
Coast racing circuit. Lewis, on the other hand, was a
hippie no-load. He was content to coast through life and
live on his father's handouts. He'd never had a real
job, and probably never would.
"What're you doing in LA?" Jack asked. And why are you
answering the phone at the yacht club? he silently
continued. Don't tell me you straightened up and decided
not to be a burden on society?
"Steve lets me hang out in the office when I'm here.
I've been ferrying boats up and down the coast."
"Ah."
"God! It's good to hear someone from the old days,"
Lewis said. "How're your parents? Does your father still
have that beautiful New York 40?"
"It went down in '62," Jack said, his voice devoid of
emotion.
"That sucks. Were you parents okay?"
"They were lost at sea."
"Oh Jesus, man. I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
"That's okay," Jack said. "It happened in the
Mediterranean. Most folks in Charleston knew, but I
don't think it made the news anywhere else."
"Yeah, my dad's been up in Mystic or down in the
Caribbean for six or seven years. And I've been out here
for about as long. Hey, man, I'm really sorry about your
parents."
"You're very kind," Jack said automatically. "We'll have
to catch up sometime." He took a deep breath and tried
not to think about his parents. Instead, he focused on
the task at hand. "Maybe you can help me, Lewis. I'm
looking for a boat to rent for a couple of days, maybe a
week. I want something big, too -- forty or fifty feet.
It needs to be beamy, with berths for at least four. A
sloop or a yawl with a good sail plan would be perfect.
Maybe even a ketch, but nothing gaff-rigged. I don't
have the crew to work a boat like that. Do you know
anything?"
"You looking for a cruiser?" Sutherland asked. "Or
mostly day- sailing?"
"A cruiser. Blue-water."
"A charter with a crew? Or something you can captain
yourself?"
"Myself," Jack said.
"How's your Spanish?"
Jack's brow creased. "What?"
"I may have something for you, but it's a one-way cruise
to Mexico. If you're interested, it's your lucky day."
"I'm interested," Jack said.
"Cool. Do you remember Wally Erskin?"
"Yeah, of course." Wallace Erskin had a reputation in
the sailing community as a ladies' man. They called him
Wally One-Eye, for obvious reasons.
"Well, he finally decided to leave New York -- something
about a chick and a paternity suit -- and he's been
hiding out in Mexico. He's got some hotel deal going on
down in Cabo San Lucas. You know where it is? On the tip
of the Baja?"
"I know it," Jack half-lied. He knew the Baja peninsula,
but he'd never heard of Cabo San Wherever. He was simply
tired of Lewis's too-chummy attitude, and wanted him to
get on with the story.
"Anyway, Wally doesn't want to come back to the States -
- the chick's father and his lawyers, right? -- but he
just bought a new boat. It's a sweet Bill Tripp design,
a 50' fiberglass hull."
"Fiberglass? That big?"
"Yeah, Columbia started laying them down last year,
and..."
Jack forgot to dislike Lewis as he listened to the
description of the boat. It sounded like a real cruiser,
with berths for six, a modern navigation suite, and all
the amenities.
"Anyway," Lewis finished, "old One-Eye wants me to sail
his boat down there. Only, I'm not hip to that. I was
planning to winter in el Caribe on my dad's new boat.
He's got a 105' schooner, and chicks dig the big boats."
"Yeah," Jack said dryly.
"But if you're looking for a blue-water cruiser, I could
tell Wally that you'd bring his boat to Cabo. So... can
you help an old friend out?"
"Let me think about it, Lewis," Jack said.
"Sure, man. And hey, I really am sorry about your
parents. They were always nice to me."
"Thanks, Lewis. I'll let you know about the boat."
**
Beth felt guilty about how quickly she'd made the
decision to leave Erin with her parents. Worse, a part
of her was convinced that she was simply horny, and
wanted to go on the cruise to satisfy her desires.
She knew she was being silly, though. In the first
place, she'd have to leave Erin sooner or later, and her
parents were perfect for the job. In the second place,
Susan might be adventurous, but she wasn't that
adventurous. Beth's fantasies of sex with another woman
were just that: fantasies.
So the trip with Susan and Jack would be nothing more
than a romantic getaway with David. They could relax and
enjoy themselves, without dirty diapers, naptimes, or
anything else. They could spend time with other adults,
talking about adult things and not worrying about young
ears. She even admitted to herself that she wanted to
show off her body, not only for David, but for Susan and
Jack as well.
So Beth was looking forward to the cruise. Even better,
Jack already had a line on a boat. Susan didn't know
much about it, but Jack was excited.
"You and David should come to dinner tonight," Susan
said, looking at her watch as she folded her towel. She
was standing up, nude but seemingly unconcerned about
who might see her over the hedge. "Cocktails at six,
dinner at seven?" she said.
**
Jack was impressed. Susan had somehow orchestrated a
camp-out in the Valencourts' backyard for the boys. And
David and Beth had left their children with a
babysitter. So the four adults had the house to
themselves.
Jack was behind the wet bar, mixing drinks: a vodka
Collins for Susan, a rum and Coke for Beth, and vodka
martinis for David and himself.
"So, tell us about this boat," David said, nodding in
thanks as he took his cocktail.
"It's a Columbia 50," Jack said, "and it's the biggest
fiberglass hull I've ever heard of. It was designed by a
guy named Bill Tripp. I don't know much about him, but
he was getting a big name for designing racing yachts
about the time I left Charleston. The people I've talked
to in the last couple of days say he's really good."
Susan and Beth were paying attention as well, so Jack
decided to skip the technical details. Sailing had a
language of its own, and he didn't think either woman
would understand more than port and starboard, fore and
aft.
"The boat itself is called the Nereid," he continued,
"and her owner wants her ferried to Cabo San Lucas, at
the southern end of the Baja California peninsula, on
the Sea of Cortez."
"Why doesn't the owner just sail it himself?" Beth
asked.
Jack grinned and winked at her. "He's a bit of a
character," he said diplomatically, "and he'd rather
avoid a sticky situation in the States."
"He's a rake," Susan said, her eyes twinkling over the
rim of her glass, "and he's dodging a spurned woman."
"Hell hath no fury," David quipped. He even managed to
look innocent as he said it.
Beth rolled her eyes at him.
"Okay, he's a bit of a womanizer," Jack said. "We used
to call him Wally One-Eye. I'm sure you can imagine
why."
"And while he's avoiding this woman, we get to sail his
boat?" David said.
"Exactly," Jack said. "The Nereid just came out of the
factory at Costa Mesa, and they trucked her down to San
Diego. Wally was supposed to pick her up there -- it's
close enough to the Mexican border that he was going to
make a quick trip -- but he got nervous at the last
minute.
"He asked this guy Lewis, a sailing bum I know from
Charleston, to ferry the boat down to Cabo San Lucas.
Lewis is headed to the Caribbean, though. So he told
Wally that I'd bring the Nereid down. To hear Lewis tell
it, Wally was more than happy to let me take his boat on
her shakedown cruise."
"Why?" Beth asked.
"Lewis is entirely too laid-back, and he's not very
reliable. Wally remembers me from regattas, and he knows
I'm a taut sailor. So if I say I'll have his boat to him
on such-and-such a date, he knows I'll be there. He
wouldn't have that, ahem, 'luxury' with Lewis."
"What's the boat like?" Susan asked.
"Well, David and I have a training flight to San Diego,"
Jack said, hiding a smile at the coup he'd managed, "so
we can take a look at her. One of my classmates from the
Citadel is a Phantom pilot at Miramar, and he'll let us
borrow his car."
Susan arched an eyebrow at him, but he merely smirked.
"It sounds like a nice boat," he continued. "And I know
Wally -- he's not the kind of guy to scrimp on
amenities."
"So, what's the plan for the trip?" David asked.
"I thought we'd leave the first week of November. I
talked to Lewis, and even though he's a worthless
hippie, he's actually a pretty good sailor. He said the
winds should be favorable the whole trip. I'll have to
look at the charts, but he gave me some tips about the
Baja coast. It's a pretty barren stretch of land,
though, so we'll mostly be on our own. The boat has more
than enough room for stores, and we can trade with local
villages for fresh fish and lobster.
"But here's the catch," he continued, sweeping the
others with an appraising look. "Lewis said we should
plan on a six- or seven- day trip." He held up a hand to
forestall objections. "Now, I know we'd talked about a
three- or four-day cruise, but this is a pretty rare
opportunity. To be honest, I think we should actually
plan on nine or ten days."
Beth looked uncertain, so Jack pressed on quickly.
"Lewis told me about this place called Bahia Santa
Maria." His Spanish pronunciation was pidgin at best, so
he translated, "Santa Maria Bay. He said it has the most
beautiful beaches and clearest water he's ever seen. And
Lewis has seen a lot of beaches, so he probably knows
what he's talking about."
As if on cue, Susan said, "Could we stay in Santa Maria
Bay for a couple of days? Do they have a hotel?"
"Better," Jack said, grinning. "The bay is deserted,
except for a couple of fishing villages at either end.
We could anchor for several days and simply relax. We
could swim and skin dive and lounge on the beach. We
could drink sangria and make bonfires at night to cook
fresh lobsters. We could do anything we want, without a
soul for miles around."
"Wow, that sounds pretty nice," Susan said. "Beth and I
could go topless."
Beth grinned shyly.
"Or bottomless, too," Susan finished.
David gulped his martini. He almost choked, and ended up
in a fit of coughing.
Everyone chuckled once he cleared his throat and
apologized.
"Well, how's that sound?" Jack asked, trying not to
betray his eagerness.
"Your parents should be able to stay for ten days,
right?" Susan said to Beth.
Beth hesitantly nodded.
"It'll give them more time with Paul and Erin. You said
they want to go to Disneyland?"
"Yes."
"Well, they won't be rushed," Susan said. "But if ten
days is still too long..."
Jack held his breath.
"No, it should be fine," Beth said, obviously still
uncertain.
"It'll be all right, sweetheart," David assured her.
"Your folks can stay at our house for a couple of days,
before they drive down to Anaheim. They can take their
time, instead of dragging the kids on a whirlwind tour."
"I guess you're right," Beth said.
"We can probably make the trip in six days," Jack said.
"But we wouldn't have time to stop at Santa Maria Bay,
would we?" Beth said.
"No. We'd sail right by, waving as we went past."
Jack could tell that Beth wanted to stop at the bay. But
she was still undecided, still worried about leaving her
children. Part of him was annoyed, but he realized that
he wouldn't find her half as attractive if she were the
kind of woman who'd simply go off and leave her
children. So he bided his time, and vowed to accept --
gracefully, he told himself -- whatever decision she
made.
"Let me talk to my parents," she said at last. "And I
want to talk it over with David."
Susan nodded and leaned close. "If we need to shorten
the trip, we'll do it," she said softly. "And if we need
to pass altogether, we'll do that too. It's not worth
doing if you're not going to enjoy yourself."
Beth looked grateful.
The silence grew heavy.
"Who's ready for another drink?" Jack half-boomed,
trying to lighten the mood.
Three glasses shot out with a relieved chorus of "I am."
**
"What do you think?" Beth asked. She and David were
lying in bed, and she was draped over him.
"About the trip?" he said.
"Uh-huh."
"What do you think?"
"I don't want to leave Paul and Erin with my parents for
ten days. Twelve, counting the flights down and back."
David merely nodded.
"But you're right," she continued into the silence. "The
extra days would give Mom and Dad time to enjoy
themselves. And they wouldn't wear out the kids.
Besides, they probably won't even miss us after the
first couple of days." Her words sounded forced.
"That's not true," David said softly, "and you know it."
"You're right," she said. "I know you're right, but I
just can't stop worrying."
"What're you worried about?"
"Do you want to know the truth?" She felt him nod. "I'm
worried that Erin won't remember me," she said, her
voice barely above a whisper.
David snorted, soft and gentle. He put his arm around
her.
He hadn't worn his pajamas to bed, and neither had she.
His arm felt warm against her bare back.
"Do you remember how nervous Paul was at the fly-in?" he
asked.
She nodded.
"He ran to me as soon as he saw me."
She smiled at the memory.
"He hadn't seen me in nine months, but he remembered me.
Even Erin remembered me. She was barely a week old when
I left," he continued. "But her face lit up when she saw
me. She knew her father."
A part of Beth was convinced that Erin's reaction had
simply been a mirror of her own, but a bigger part of
her wanted to believe that David was right.
"You're her mother," he said. "She's not likely to
forget you."
"You're right," she said. "Still, I feel like a bad
mother for wanting to leave them for almost two weeks. I
feel so... selfish."
"You're not."
"But--"
"Beth," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "you're not
selfish. You're not a bad mother, either. As a matter of
fact, you're one of the least selfish women I know. And
the kids couldn't have a better mother. So if you're
going to worry about something, worry about something
else."
"I know," she said softly. "Thank you."
"If you don't want to go on the cruise, or you don't
want to take ten days, just say so. You don't need a
reason."
"But that's just it," she said. "I want to go, and I
want to take ten days." She laughed. "I want to take two
weeks! But I'd feel guilty for asking Mom and Dad to
stay that long."
"They'll be thrilled."
"I know you're right," she said. "But I'd still feel
guilty."
"Don't."
She smiled and kissed his chest. After a long moment's
silence, she took a deep breath. David was right. She
didn't want to admit it, but she probably felt guilty
about why she wanted to go, not how long they'd be gone.
So the problem wasn't really about the children -- it
was about her own fears.
She knew she loved Susan, and she didn't want to do
anything to jeopardize their friendship. She couldn't
imagine life without her. She couldn't imagine life if
she had to hide her feelings from her best friend,
either.
She took another deep breath. Then she felt an electric
tingle of excitement.
"Let's do it," she said at last.
**
Jack and David flew to NAS Miramar as part of a
familiarization flight. The squadron had recently
transitioned to the A-4C, an older model of the plane
they'd been flying. Jack didn't agree with the logic of
"upgrading" to an older model, but their former planes
already belonged to another squadron, bound for the Gulf
of Tonkin and Vietnam.
Besides, Jack thought wryly, no one asked my opinion.
Once on the ground in San Diego, he and David borrowed
lockers to store their flight gear. Then they headed to
the marina. Lewis Sutherland was supposed to sail down
to meet them, but Jack wasn't going to hold his breath.
Fortunately, Wally Erskin had left word at the yacht
club, so Jack didn't have any problems when he asked the
harbormaster for the keys to the boat.
The Nereid was moored at the end of a long dock, and
Jack pulled up short when he first saw her. He stood
transfixed for a long moment -- she looked more like a
racing thoroughbred than an oceangoing cruiser. When he
finally blinked to clear his starry eyes, he climbed
aboard her. David joined him a moment later, but he
hardly noticed.
The hull and deck were white fiberglass, with teak
accents and chrome hardware. The cockpit was divided,
with benches forward and the helm aft. The arrangement
would keep the helmsman clear of the sheet tenders. His
eyes rose to the boom and then higher still, to the
masthead. He gazed upward for several heartbeats, but
then followed the shrouds to the spreaders and down to
the deck itself. With an eager grin, he fished the keys
from his pocket.
He unlocked the main hatch and slid it open, inhaling
the scents of fiberglass resin and fresh varnish. Three
steps led down to the cabin itself, with a dinette to
port and the galley to starboard. Light flooded the
cabin through deckhouse windows, and expensive teak and
white enamel shone in the diffuse light.
After a moment Jack moved forward and inspected the
equipment at the navigation station. Then he stepped
down to the main salon. It had seat berths to port and
starboard, with fold-down pilot berths above each. He
moved to the starboard berth and opened a door to reveal
the boat's head. Sink, toilet, and shower were all
crammed into two small spaces.
Down a short hallway to port, he reached the captain's
cabin, a V-shaped room with a double berth. The small
doors on the forward bulkhead probably led to the sail
locker, and he knelt on the berth to open them. Sure
enough, neatly bagged sails filled the small space.
"What do you think?" David called from the main salon.
"I think," Jack said, trying not to gush, "that she's
beautiful."
"No kidding."
He looked around for a moment longer and then grinned
like a schoolboy. "C'mon," he said, "let's head up on
deck and check her rigging."
Much to Jack's surprise, Lewis showed up, only an hour
late. By then, Jack was familiar with the boat, although
he wanted to take her out to see how she handled.
"Whaddaya think?" Lewis asked, gesturing grandly.
Jack hid a frown. Lewis smelled like pot smoke, and his
grin was slack.
"Sweet, isn't she?" Lewis continued. "I told old One-Eye
that I'd love to sail her, but..." He shrugged
expressively. "El Caribe awaits, man. You know?"
Jack and David shared a look that spoke volumes.
As if noticing David for the first time, Lewis wiped his
hand on his shirt and held it out. "Hi, man," he said,
"I'm Lewis."
David shook his hand, and Jack had to stifle a chuckle.
The two men couldn't have been more different: a hippie
in a Hawaiian shirt and a Naval officer in a flight
suit.
"You must be in the Marines with Jack," Lewis said to
David.
"We're in the Navy," Jack grated.
Lewis brushed off the correction. "Navy, Marines,
whatever. You're both soldiers, right?"
"We're pilots."
"Oh, cool," Lewis said, still unfazed. Then he changed
gears and gazed upward. "The guys from Glass Marine
stepped the mast and did all the rigging."
Jack nodded curtly, glad to be talking about something
where he didn't have to grit his teeth.
"She has a full suit of cruising sails," Lewis
continued, "but Wally wanted some racing sails, too. So
you've got a spinnaker, a #2 genoa, and a couple of
staysails... um... a reacher and a tallboy, I think. I
couldn't fit the racing sails in the sail locker, so I
stowed them in the lockers in the main salon..."
Jack and Lewis spent the next half-hour going over the
boat from stem to stern. Jack didn't learn many things
he didn't already know, but he was glad to have Lewis
confirm what he'd managed to discover for himself.
"Hey, man," Lewis said at last, "I'm starving. You guys
wanna get something to eat?"
"Sorry, Lewis," Jack lied glibly, "but we have to get
back to the base."
"Oh, yeah," Lewis said. "I understand, man. You've got
reveille and all, right?"
Reveille is the morning bugle call, you hippie dipshit,
Jack thought. Aloud, he deadpanned, "Yeah, they're
strict about that in the Marines."
David quickly turned away to hide a laugh.
"That's cool," Lewis said. "I probably should be gettin'
back to my boat anyway. Besides, I need a smoke. I'd
offer to share, but..." He gestured at them and
shrugged, as if to say "You're way too uptight."
Jack and David both turned stone-faced, silently proving
Lewis's point.
Blithe as ever, Lewis didn't notice. "All right, man,"
he said, "I'd better shove off. Thanks again for taking
One-Eye his boat."
"No problem," Jack said.
Lewis waved in final farewell. "Fair winds and following
seas," he said in benediction.
Once Lewis was out of earshot, David said, "That guy
makes me wanna beat some sense into him." He turned to
Jack and shot him a disgusted look. "We're fighting for
guys like him?"
Jack shrugged. He felt the same way, but it wasn't worth
getting worked up over.
David seemed to come to the same conclusion, and shook
his head as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.
Jack wanted to take the boat out to see how she handled,
but he hadn't been far wrong when he'd told Lewis they
needed to get back to the base. So he ducked into the
cabin to close the forward skylights. Then he gave
everything a final once-over and secured the main hatch.
On the dock, he paused for a moment to savor the clean
lines of the boat. He closed his eyes and imagined Susan
and Beth lying on the white deck, their bodies the same
color as the teak.
Then he began whistling a shanty he'd learned as a boy.
With Eliza Lee all on my knee, Clear away the track and
let the bulgine run.
**
The phone rang and Susan jumped up to answer it. It was
Jack, so Beth paid attention to Susan's half of the
conversation. He and David had made another trip to San
Diego, where they'd taken the boat out for a half-day
sail. From the sound of things, they were back in
Lemoore.
Beth and Susan had expected them earlier, so they'd had
dinner ready since seven o'clock. But the men had called
to say they'd be late. With characteristic aplomb, Susan
had turned down the stove to let the spaghetti sauce
simmer. Then they'd fed the children and eaten a salad
to tide them over until their husbands returned.
Beth started water boiling for fresh noodles while Susan
was still talking to Jack. It was after nine o'clock,
the salad was a distant memory, and Beth was hungry.
"They'll be here in fifteen or twenty minutes," Susan
said as she hung up the phone and began buttering bread
for garlic toast. "They're tired and a little sunburned,
but they had fun."
Beth nodded and reached to stir the spaghetti sauce. She
and Susan worked silently for the next fifteen minutes,
and Beth smiled to herself when she realized how easily
they moved together.
When the men finally came through the front door, they
looked exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. Beth kissed
David and felt a wave of sympathy for his lobster-red
face. Jack wasn't burned as badly, but his fading summer
tan was a little pinker than she remembered.
After they changed into civilian clothes and washed up,
they sat down to eat. They were ravenously hungry, and
had two helpings of spaghetti each. Beth smiled to
herself as she watched David eat -- his cheeks had
filled out, and she couldn't count his ribs anymore.
Home life certainly agreed with him.
"I think we'll need to make one more trip to San Diego,"
Jack said at last, pushing his plate away and fingering
the stem of his wine glass. "Next weekend."
David nodded.
"To go sailing again?" Susan asked.
Jack shook his head. "We won't have time. We need to
outfit the boat."
"What does it need?"
"All sorts of things, from anchors and a dinghy to pots
and pans for the galley," Jack said. "I talked to Wally,
and he'll reimburse me when we get to Cabo San Lucas,
but I still need to buy everything beforehand." He
paused for a moment and then laughed. "No wonder Wally
was so happy about me taking over from Lewis."
Susan looked a question at him.
"Lewis would've just sailed to Mexico, without a care in
the world beyond what he needed to make the trip.
Besides, he doesn't have the kind of money it takes to
outfit a boat like Nereid. And Wally would've been hard
pressed to do it in Cabo San Lucas -- it's in the middle
of nowhere. More important, I wouldn't trust Lewis to
outfit a boat if his life depended on it. And since our
lives depend on it... well... you get the picture."
Everyone nodded.
"In addition to outfitting the boat, I need to get the
paperwork started," Jack continued. "I'm not the
Nereid's owner, so I need a letter from Wally
authorizing delivery. And since the boat is new, I have
to apply to the FCC for a ship radio station license.
We'll need a Coast Guard inspection, a cruising permit,
insurance that's valid in Mexico... The list is
endless."
"Can we help?" Beth asked.
"With some of it, yes," Jack said. "I was thinking that
you and Susan could come down a day early and buy
provisions."
"Shopping is our specialty," Susan said, grinning at
Beth.
Beth felt a warmth in her tummy that had nothing to do
with the prospect of shopping.
"David and I can take care of the water, diesel, and
kerosene for the stove," Jack said, "but we'll need
things like meat and vegetables, too."
Susan nodded.
"David and I can also take care of the wine and liquor,"
Jack said.
"Are you trying to get us drunk and take advantage of
us?" Susan asked, sharing a grin with Beth.
"Trying?" Jack said, roguish and charming. "We're
counting on it!"
They shared a friendly laugh, but Beth saw a look pass
between Susan and Jack. It was a look full of
anticipation, with a helping of desire thrown in for
good measure.
**
Beth grew more and more excited as the days passed. When
November finally arrived, she felt like jumping for joy.
She loved her children, but she really wanted a
vacation.
Besides, she thought, four people on a boat...? No
bikinis...? No stress and no worries...? No phones, no
lights, no motorcars...? She grinned at the last, but
quickly turned serious.
"Who knows what'll happen," she said under her breath.
David looked up from packing his seabag. "Did you say
something?"
He and Jack were leaving the next morning. They still
had plenty of work to do on the Nereid, so they were
going to San Diego two days ahead of Beth and Susan.
"Sweetheart...?" David prompted.
"What? Oh, no," Beth fibbed.
He left his packing and pulled her into his arms. "I'm
really looking forward to this," he said.
"Me too."
"I think we'll have fun."
"Mmm, me too."
He paused for a moment, as if choosing his words
carefully. "Are you and Susan serious about sunbathing
nude?"
"Mmm hmm," Beth said, soft and seductive. "You don't
mind, do you?"
He started to speak, but then fell silent.
"I'm sure you'll survive. It'll be hard," she teased,
"but I have faith in you." She grinned at his expression
and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
Still smirking, she backed away, her eyes never leaving
his. With a sudden laugh, she twirled like a little girl
before the first day of summer camp.
She felt like a Nereid already, like a frolicking sea
nymph who'd found her sailor. She wondered if the sailor
knew that she had her eye on another nymph as well.
She laughed again, and gaily ignored David's puzzled
look.
CHAPTER NINE
Jack and David rode to NAS Miramar in a Navy transport
plane, boarding in predawn darkness and emerging an hour
later in sunny San Diego. On their way to the marina,
they made a quick stop for enough basic groceries to
tide them over till the women arrived. When they reached
the Nereid, they changed out of their uniforms and into
work clothes.
On their previous trip, Jack had placed orders for
nautical equipment, mostly from local companies. The
harbormaster signed for the deliveries, and kept the
boxes and crates in a small storage room.
Jack and David hauled everything to the Nereid, and then
worked like slaves for hours, talking little and resting
less. David had never outfitted a sailboat before, but
he was good with his hands and had a knack for anything
mechanical. When they finally took a break for lunch,
they wolfed down sandwiches and coffee. Then they went
back to work, and kept at it till well after dark.
Jack had a list of what they needed to do, but he kept
adding to it. By the time they knocked off for the day,
they'd accomplished two-thirds of the original list, but
the list itself had almost doubled.
"Oh, God, I'm tired," he groaned as he eased into the
dinette. He used a church key to open two bottles of
beer.
David gratefully accepted a bottle and they silently --
wearily -- toasted each other.
Jack glanced at his list. "I need to go to the harbor
office tomorrow morning and take care of paperwork."
"I can get the dinghy and outboard squared away while
you do," David said. "I also want to have a good look at
the Nereid's diesel," he added. "I know it's new, but
I'd still feel better if we had some spare parts and
extra fuel filters."
Jack nodded. The harbormaster had said that Mexican
diesel was notoriously dirty.
"I'll make a list of the things we need," David
continued. "And I want to go over the radios and nav
equipment to make sure I know how everything works. We
should probably get spare fuses, too."
Jack nodded again, and added fuses to his ever-
lengthening list. "I think we'll need to borrow the
harbormaster's van tomorrow," he said at last. Then he
glanced at his list. "You can buy engine spares and
fuses while I buy cooking utensils, linens, marine
toilet paper... and, well... you get the picture."
David nodded.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Jack said suddenly, adding to his
list. "We'll need a US ensign and a Mexican courtesy
flag." He glanced over the list again. "We've got a big
day ahead of us."
David nodded again, too tired to speak.
They were up before dawn the next morning, and soon had
a pot of coffee on the stove and the smell of breakfast
wafting through the cabin.
"I'm going to need a vacation after yesterday and
today," David said, plucking toast from the small oven
with his bare hands.
Jack caught and buttered each piece as it flew toward
him. "No rest for the wicked," he said absently.
David laughed. "We must've been very wicked."
"Or we're going to be."
David's answering grin was a mirror of Jack's own.
They spent the rest of the day either shopping or
stowing their purchases. Once again, they finished long
after sunset, but the boat was well-stocked with
emergency equipment, spares, and everything else they'd
need for ten days at sea. Wally Erskin owed Jack a small
fortune, but money had never been one of Wally's
shortcomings.
"The harbormaster said we could use his van again
tomorrow," David said. "The girls can go grocery
shopping in your friend's car, and we can buy all the
booze with the van."
"Right," Jack said, and took out his list. It was
smudged and tattered, but most of the items were crossed
off. "Remind me to get 35mm film, too," he added,
although he made a note. "And a couple of spare
batteries for the flash."
David facetiously gestured to the list.
Jack grinned at his friend's dig. Then he scanned the
list a final time. "Not much left to do," he said, more
to himself than to David. "A couple of things here and
there, and then we're done."
"The harbormaster mentioned something when I returned
his van," David said. "He said we should take some T-
shirts and ball caps."
Jack felt his eyebrows rise.
David shrugged, as if to say "Don't ask me, it was his
suggestion." Aloud, he said, "The locals down the coast
go nuts for anything American. He said we can use the
shirts and caps as trade goods."
"Beads and trinkets for the Indians?"
"I guess. But if you think about it, it makes sense."
Jack nodded. "Yeah. It's not like the Mexican villagers
can go down to the local five-and-dime and pick up
Dodgers caps."
"He said the local fishermen will trade fresh catch for
shirts and caps."
"Okay," Jack said, adding to the list, "a half-dozen T-
shirts and caps. Anything else?"
"Not that I can think of."
"Well then," Jack said, stifling a yawn, "I don't know
about you, but I'm going to hit the rack."
**
Beth felt ready to burst with excitement. She put the
final touches on her makeup and then closed the small
case. She and Susan would be representing their husbands
on the military flight from Lemoore to San Diego, so she
wanted to look her best.
"Are you ready, Bethy?" her father called.
"Be right there, Dad," she hollered back.
Her parents were almost as excited as she was, but for
entirely different reasons. They were looking forward to
spending two weeks with their grandchildren. Beth felt a
pang of regret that she was leaving them -- what kind of
mother was she, anyway? -- but she quickly suppressed
it.
Paul and Erin would be fine, she told herself. They'd
have fun with Grandma and Grandpa, and they'd enjoy
Disneyland. Erin wouldn't remember much of it, but Paul
and Beth's father would have the time of their lives.
"Beth, hon," her father said from the doorway, "we need
to go."
"I'm coming, Dad."
He picked up her makeup case and took it to the idling
car. Beth checked on Erin in her new car seat. She was
happily chewing her rattle, so Beth opened the front
passenger door and slid into the seat. Her father drove,
while her mother rode in the back and played a game of I
Spy with Paul.
Beth smiled to herself as she listened to them. Her
mother's clues were simple: "I spy a man on a bicycle,
can you see him?" But Paul saw the world a little
differently: "I spy a white bridge, can you see it?" The
"bridge" wasn't a bridge at all, of course -- it was a
series of arches along the front of a building. But it
looked like a bridge, especially once he pointed it out.
Beth listened to the game with half an ear. She was
thinking about blue water, white beaches, and Susan. Her
thoughts returned to the world around her when the car
slowed at the base gate. The Marine sentry saw the car's
officer sticker and snapped a salute. Beth smiled when
her father had to restrain himself from returning it.
Susan and her father were already at the base operations
building when Beth and her family arrived. Kirk and Doug
helped Beth's father with her bags. David had given her
a canvas seabag for a suitcase, since they wouldn't have
room to stow her big Samsonite aboard the boat.
Beth knew she'd packed too much, but she didn't know
what she could've left behind. The days would be warm,
but the nights chilly, at least until they sailed
further south. So she'd packed everything from her
bikini to sweaters. (She and Susan weren't planning on
wearing the bikinis much, but they'd agreed that
bringing them was the sensible thing to do.)
A man appeared beside her. "Mrs. Hughes?"
She nodded.
"I'm Chief Petty Officer Brownlee," he said. "I'll be
escorting you aboard the plane and getting you
situated."
"Thank you, Chief Brownlee."
"I'm sorry we don't have accommodations more suitable
for ladies."
"Oh, I'm sure we'll survive, Chief," Susan said as she
joined them.
"Yes, ma'am," he said. With a deferential nod, he picked
up Beth's luggage and carried it aboard the large twin-
engine plane. He returned a few minutes later.
"We'll be starting the engines in fifteen minutes,
ma'am," he said to Susan. He included Beth with a polite
smile. "Will you be ready by then?"
"Yes, thank you," Susan said. "Just give us a few
minutes to say goodbye, and then we'll be right with
you."
"Of course, ma'am," he said. "Take your time." Then he
nodded toward the plane. "The pilot says he'll wait as
long as you need."
"That's very kind of him," Susan said.
Emboldened, the chief grinned and leaned forward
confidentially. "We don't have many passengers of the
feminine persuasion, if you don't mind me saying so,
ma'am."
Susan's smile was dazzling and completely unaffected.
"Well then," she said, "we're lucky you'll have us."
Beth had to stifle a laugh at the chief's boyish
expression. He was still blushing as he bobbed a
respectful nod and headed toward the waiting plane.
Beth said goodbye to Paul and Erin, hugging and kissing
them both. After a long moment, she mustered the
willpower to hand Erin to her mother.
"Thanks again, Mom and Dad."
"Go," her mother said, a gentle command. "Have fun.
We'll see you when you get back."
"Are you sure you'll be all right?"
"We'll be fine," her mother said. "Go."
**
David and Jack were waiting at the airport. Beth felt a
flutter in her stomach when she saw David in his
uniform. He'd gained weight since coming home, and he
didn't brood as much when he read the newspaper. Beth
smiled -- she had her husband back.
At the marina she used the harbormaster's phone to call
her parents. They were fine, the children were fine, and
her mother told her -- again -- to relax and enjoy
herself. Beth promised to call when they reached Mexico.
Susan called her father to report their safe arrival. He
and the boys were flying to Washington, D.C. later in
the day, and the boys sounded excited about the trip.
They were also excited about their two weeks out of
school, but Susan had made sure they had assignments
from their teachers.
When Beth and the others reached the Nereid, Jack
offered to give them a tour. He was like a schoolboy
showing off his latest toy. The boat was very pretty,
though.
"Come aboard," he said, gesturing grandly, "and I'll
show you the accommodations."
The cabin was smaller than Beth thought it would be, but
much larger than some of the other boats she'd been on.
The galley was small but well-designed. She wouldn't
want to cook a gourmet meal on the three-burner stove or
in the small oven, but they wouldn't have to eat TV
dinners, either.
Jack led them forward, pointing out storage lockers. The
boat was full of them, with every space imaginable
dedicated to some purpose. They reached the main salon
and a fresh breeze puffed through the open skylight.
Jack folded down one of the berths on the right-hand
side of the boat.
No, Beth corrected herself, on the starboard side. She'd
been sailing before, but she didn't automatically think
in nautical terms. Not like the men did, at least.
"You and David will sleep here," Jack said to her.
Beth quickly realized that she and David wouldn't have
any privacy. They wouldn't even be able to sleep
together -- she could sleep across from him or above
him. She told herself that the cozy living arrangements
were part of the charm. Besides, the lower berths looked
comfy enough for two, as long as the two were friendly.
She smiled to herself at that, since she planned to be
very "friendly" with David over the next ten days.
"What's in there?" Susan asked, gesturing to a door.
"That's the head," Jack said. "The bathroom." He opened
the door and showed them a small room with a sink and
mirror.
Beth glanced at the room beyond -- a closet, really --
and felt her eyes widen in surprise. The small room held
both a toilet and a showerhead.
"No wasted space," Jack said, noticing her expression.
"Two words of warning, though," he added, including
Susan with a glance. "First, don't put anything into the
toilet that you didn't put into your mouth first. And I
mean anything."
"Got it," Susan said mischievously. "No tampons in the
toilet."
"Second," Jack continued, ignoring her jibe, "once we
put to sea, we'll have to pay attention to our fresh
water. Here in the marina, we don't have to worry about
it. But out there" -- he nodded toward the ocean -- "we
can't stop at the nearest service station and top our
tanks. We carry 120 gallons of fresh water, and we'll
use it for everything: drinking, cooking, and washing.
So that means no showers. Sorry."
"How do we wash, then?" Susan asked.
Jack grinned. "You shower on deck."
Beth stifled a laugh at Susan's expression. She wasn't
easily ruffled, and Jack obviously enjoyed catching her
off guard. To her credit, she quickly recovered. She was
a nudist, after all, and showering in public would
hardly faze her.
"David and I bought a portable solar shower," Jack
continued, still grinning. "You fill it with seawater
and the sun heats it."
"But we can't wash with salt water," Susan said.
"You can wash just fine with salt water," Jack
disagreed. "But you'll need to rinse off with fresh
water afterward. It takes a lot less water to rinse off
than it does to lather, wash, and rinse."
Susan slowly nodded.
"Besides," Jack added, "we want to watch you shower on
deck."
Susan looked at Beth and rolled her eyes. Then she
turned mischievous. "Well," she said, "if we have to
shower on deck, then you guys do too."
"Of course."
Beth stepped close to David and hugged herself to his
arm. He smiled down at her, and she thought she detected
a hint of guilty eagerness.
Jack pulled out a large black plastic bag with a shower
nozzle -- the solar shower itself. He said it would hold
five gallons, which should be more than enough for one
person to shower.
"Two, if you're friendly," he added.
Beth pretended to look shocked, but she was anything
but. Instead, she was excited at the prospect of
showering on deck. And she felt a thrill at the idea of
showering with Susan.
Unfortunately, she had to pay attention as Jack showed
them how to work the pump toilet. Once again, he warned
them not to put anything "foreign" into it.
"Okay, Jack, we get it," Susan said, with a rare bit of
pique. "No tampons in the toilet. I'm not on my period
anyway. And neither is Beth."
"It's not just tampons," Jack insisted. "No Kleenex, no
cotton balls, no Q-tips, no cellophane wrappers, no
nothing."
"All right," Susan half-snapped. "Nothing in the toilet
but pee and poop."
"Uh-oh," David said, defusing the tension, "you know
she's serious when she talks to us like children."
Jack started to reply, but then laughed instead. "Yeah,
you're right," he said. "Sorry. I've dealt with a
clogged head before, and let me tell you, that wasn't
fun."
"Don't worry," Susan said, "we'll take care of your
head." She smiled devilishly: "The big one, the little
one, and the one in there."
They all shared a laugh at Jack's expense. He bore it
well, and even laughed at himself. He was still
chuckling when he opened the door to the captain's
cabin.
"This is where Susan and I will sleep," he said. Then he
shrugged at David. "Rank hath its privileges."
"Yes, sir, Commander, sir," David intoned facetiously.
"You may call me Captain."
David chuckled.
With that, Beth looked at the cabin. It was small, but
it held the boat's only double berth. The cabin was
bright and airy, though, with an open skylight in the
center of the room.
"So," Jack said at last. "What do you think?"
"I think it's wonderful," Beth said. "We're going to
have so much fun!"
Susan and Jack shared a knowing look, and Beth felt a
flutter of desire. She turned and smiled at David, whose
cheeks had turned rosy with one of his rare blushes.
"I think you're right," Susan said at last.
**
Beth hung her dress in the locker between the main salon
and the captain's cabin. Then she pulled jeans and a
sweater from her seabag. The weather wasn't cold, but it
was cloudy, and the ocean breeze held a bit of a chill.
She thought about taking off her bra, but she didn't
want to go out in public without it, especially since
her sweater was tight, white, and thin. Susan emerged
from the forward cabin a moment later and they headed
toward the rear of the boat. Toward the stern, Beth
reminded herself.
David and Jack had already changed out of their uniforms
and were lounging on the benches in the...
whatsitcalled?
Cockpit, she suddenly remembered. Then she turned
crimson at the double entendre.
Susan shot her a curious look.
"I'll explain later," Beth murmured, her imagination run
amok with cocks -- hard cocks.
She grinned to herself. She'd gone three days without
masturbating, and was ready for some time with her
husband. For a moment she worried about the other couple
hearing if she and David made love, but then she laughed
ironically.
If they can hear us, she thought, then we can hear them.
The tips of her ears burned as she thought about what
Susan sounded like when she was having sex.
"Are you okay?" Susan asked, leaning close.
Treacherous imagination, Beth cursed silently, trying to
think of something else, anything else. "I'm fine," she
lied. Then she pasted on her fake smile. "Are we ready
to go?"
Not surprisingly, Susan's eyes practically glowed with
understanding.
**
Beth and Susan filled three grocery carts. They'd spent
the past two days planning their menus and making a
shopping list. The Nereid's cupboard was -- quite
literally -- bare, and they had to buy everything they'd
need for the trip.
When they reached the check-out line, Beth almost
laughed at how easy the shopping had been. Then she
sobered. It was easy because she didn't have to do it
while watching a toddler and a baby.
"They're fine," Susan said, as if reading her mind.
"I know. It's just..."
Susan put her hand atop Beth's and smiled in
understanding.
Beth sighed.
"They'll be fine," Susan said. "They'll have a good time
with your parents."
"I'm sure you're right."
"I am. Trust me. And while Paul and Erin are having fun
with your parents, you and David will be having fun with
us."
Beth thought she detected a hint of something more in
Susan's voice. She looked up.
Susan merely waggled her eyebrows, and Beth felt her
face heating.
They returned to the boat before the men did.
Fortunately, Jack had given Susan the second set of
keys. Once they unlocked the main hatch, they began
hauling groceries down the long dock.
"Excuse me, ma'am," a teenager said when they returned
to the car after the first trip, "but would you like
some help?" He was probably fifteen, tanned and wiry and
sandy-haired. A younger boy stood next to him, obviously
his brother.
"Sure," Susan said. "Thanks."
The boys were Ryan and Reed, the harbormaster's sons,
and they easily scooped up several grocery bags apiece.
They were eager and cheerful, and were obviously trying
to impress Susan. Beth grinned at their antics, but the
two boys quickly carried all of the grocery bags from
the car to the boat.
"Thank you very much," Susan said. As if by magic, she
produced a pair of folded five dollar bills and gave
them to the boys. It was an exorbitant tip, and they
tried to give half of it back.
"You don't understand, Mrs. MacLean," Ryan said. "Our
dad'll ground us if he thinks we're trying to take
advantage..."
"Then split five dollars between you," Susan said
evenly, "and put the other five in savings for your
college fund. Will your father accept that?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Ryan said, beaming.
"Thank you again, ma'am," Reed said.
Still grinning, the boys ran down the dock, already
planning what they'd buy with their money.
Beth looked at Susan with a widening smile.
"What?" Susan said, uncharacteristically abashed.
You're perfect, Beth thought. And I love everything
about you.
With that, they began putting away the groceries, but
Beth couldn't keep from stealing glances at Susan. For
her part, Susan had turned nervous and a little klutzy.
Beth smiled to herself -- she'd been the same way when
she'd first met David. She knew she'd fallen in love--
Her stomach dropped. Oh, my God! she thought. Could
Susan possibly be...?
By the time the men returned with the wine and liquor,
Beth had managed to convince herself that she'd been
imagining things. Susan couldn't possibly be in love
with her. She was being silly, and she knew it. But
still, she'd seen the way Susan looked at her.
Stop it, she told herself sternly. Women do not fall in
love with other women.
But you have, another part of her said.
For a moment she stood there and argued with herself.
Susan was looking at her with a puzzled expression when
Beth finally shook herself out of her trance.
"Sorry," she said, chagrined. Then she looked into
Susan's eyes and something within her snapped -- she
decided to be daring! "Faint heart never won fair lady,"
her father always said. Beth caught Susan's eye and
nodded toward the front of the boat. C'mon, she said
silently.
What? Susan asked with a look.
Beth raised her eyebrows expectantly. Trust me, she
said.
In the main salon, Beth stripped off her sweater without
explanation.
Susan's brow furrowed.
"Now that the guys are back," Beth said, "I thought we'd
give 'em a bit of a show." She unclasped her bra.
Susan caught on immediately, and tugged her own sweater
over her head.
Beth put her sweater on again, but reached up to tweak
her nipples. She closed her eyes and imagined Susan's
hands on her. Electric shivers ran through her as she
caressed her breasts. She felt a familiar warmth between
her legs, which made her smile ironically -- she'd only
meant to make her nipples hard.
Okay, she told herself wryly, maybe I overshot the mark.
Aloud, she asked, "How do I look?"
Susan took her time. "Fantastic," she said at last. "How
do I look?"
She was wearing a light pink cashmere sweater. It was
thinner than Beth's white one, but not as tight. Still,
her nipples stood out, and Beth's mouth watered at the
thought of sucking them. She suppressed the urge and
tried to compose herself.
"You look great," she said at last.
Susan's eyes twinkled mischievously.
"What?" Beth said.
"I was just thinking..."
What? she asked with an arched eyebrow.
"The guys are in for a real treat."
They're not the only ones, Beth silently agreed.
**
Later that night, Beth took off her clothes and folded
them neatly. She'd brought a pajama top, although she
didn't bother to put it on. She started to climb into
her berth, but then thought better of it.
"David?" she said softly. She was horny, and she didn't
care if Susan and Jack could hear.
"Yeah?" David said, his voice pitched low.
Instead of answering, she crossed the narrow salon.
Clouds covered the moon, but enough light shone through
the skylight above them. She knew she was silhouetted,
and she paused a moment to let David see her nudity.
"Scoot over," she said quietly.
He did, and she joined him in the berth. She frowned
when she felt his pajama bottoms. Undaunted, she
caressed his flaccid penis through the fabric.
"I thought you weren't going to wear these anymore," she
said.
"But..."
She half-clucked at him. "Susan and Jack are nudists,"
she said. "And I guess I've become a nudist over the
past year. So I want a nudist husband."
"Sure, okay." He tugged off his pajamas.
Beth kissed his chest and then reached for his manhood.
Her nipples hardened in anticipation, but she wanted to
take her time. She stroked him gently, his dick growing
in her hand.
She'd lost a couple of pounds in the past month, mostly
from her hips and thighs. Her faded tan didn't hide the
faint stretch marks, but she was happy with the way she
looked. And now she wanted to show off.
She liked the way David and Jack's eyes had followed her
braless breasts. She liked the way Susan's eyes had
followed them as well. She was looking forward to
reaching a warmer climate, where she and Susan could
sunbathe nude.
"I like being a nudist," she said softly, speaking her
thoughts aloud.
David nodded, content to let her talk as she stroked
him.
"Susan was telling me about some of the camps out here.
They sound fun. I want to go to one. With you, of
course," she quickly added. "I also want to go to her
father's camp. It sounds so relaxing."
David made a sound of agreement.
"I guess I like showing off," she continued, still
saying whatever came to mind. "I like people looking at
me. And... I want them to look at you too."
"Me?"
"Mmm hmm. I want them to see how lucky I am." She
laughed softly. "I used to think that only men wanted
beautiful wives on their arms."
"You want a beautiful wife?" he teased gently.
Ha! she thought. You don't know how close to the truth
you really are. Aloud, she said, "No, it's not that. I
want a handsome husband. In some ways, I'm like most
women: I want a man who loves me and who treats me
right. I want someone who makes me laugh and will hold
me when I cry. I want someone who's a good father and a
good provider." She kissed his chest.
"Sound like anyone you know?" she asked rhetorically.
Then she turned serious again. "Call me shallow, though,
but I want a man who looks good too."
"You're not shallow," he said.
"I know. I don't think I am, but still..." She chuckled
at another thought. "Maybe that's why I want us to
become nudists. I want other women to see what I get
that they don't." She frowned at that. "I'm not mean-
spirited, and I'm not very competitive, but I guess a
part of me is a bit competitive. You're mine, after
all."
But I wouldn't mind sharing, she added silently, with
the right woman.
She chuckled again, low and throaty. "And I want other
women to see that you've got a big dick."
"What?"
"Yes," she said, almost defiantly, "you heard me. I want
to show off your body. I want other women to look at
your dick and think, 'Wow, she gets that every night?'"
"You're kidding, right?"
She shook her head. "Men want women with big tits. Why?
To play with, sure, but they also want 'em to make other
men jealous."
He started to say something, but kept silent.
"See," she said, taking his silence for agreement. "So
why shouldn't I be the same way? I want to make other
women jealous." She paused, equivocating. "Okay, maybe
not jealous, but I definitely want them to see how lucky
I am. And a husband who's hung like a horse is part of
that."
"I'm not hung like a horse."
"It sure feels like a horse from this end, baby," she
said, half- teasing, half-serious. "But seriously, I
like your dick." She squeezed the dick in question. "And
I want to show you, stud."
He made a strangled sound.
"All right, maybe the stud comment was a bit much, but
still... you understand what I'm talking about, right?"
He shrugged.
"You like my body, don't you?"
"You know I do."
"Would you like me as much if I had an A-cup?"
"Sweetheart, that's not fair. You know I love you f--"
"You love me for who I am," she interrupted, repeating
the words he'd told her countless times. "But you sure
are happy that I've got nice tits, aren't you? Don't
think I don't know how you feel about them. You're a tit
man, David Hughes, and you always have been."
"You got me," he said, a mix between chagrin and
amusement.
"Well, maybe I'm a dick woman."
He snorted with soft laughter.
After a moment Beth did too. "Okay, that was stupid, but
you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I guess I do."
"And that's why I want to go to a nudist camp. I want
other men to look at me and think what a lucky guy you
are. But I also want the women to look at you and think
how lucky I am."
"That's fair, I guess."
"You're darned right it's fair."
He chuckled. "What got you started thinking about this?"
She fell silent for a moment, searching for an answer.
"I guess I'm really looking forward to the trip." She
paused again. "I still feel a little guilty about
leaving Paul and Erin, but I'll get over that as soon as
we set sail."
He nodded and hugged her tighter.
"But I guess I started thinking about this because I
don't want you to get upset."
"Upset? Why would I get upset?"
She shrugged. "I really, really want to show off my
body, David," she said seriously. "And I don't want you
to be jealous or overprotective or anything else."
"Why would I be? I know you love me. You do, don't you?"
"With all my heart." But what if I love someone else
too? she wondered silently. Do I have enough room in my
heart for two people? She knew she did. She loved Paul
with all her heart, but she didn't feel any less love
for him when Erin was born. Any mother would understand.
But would David?
"Then why would I be jealous?" he asked, pulling her
back to the conversation.
"You don't mind Jack looking at me?"
"Why should I? He's my best friend. I trust him not to
make a move on you." After a moment: "And maybe it's
like you said... I want him to look at you and think
what a lucky guy I am."
"Besides," Beth added slyly, "you'll be looking at
Susan."
"Not like that," he said, but his words didn't agree
with his dick.
"Yes, you will," she chided softly. "And that's okay.
She wants you to look."
He hesitated. "She does?"
"Mmm hmm. She's a bigger tease than I am. And she's been
excited about this trip since we first started talking
about it. She's too polite to come right out and tell me
she thinks my husband is sexy, but I can tell. So look
all you want."
"Really?"
"I don't mind. You said it best: I know you love me.
Besides, if Susan and I want you guys to look, we can
hardly complain when you do, now can we?"
"Stranger things have happened," David said dryly.
She laughed. "You're probably right, but not this time."
"Is that why Susan said what she did about Jack and me
showering on deck?"
"Mmm hmm. She wants to see you." Beth felt herself
grinning as David seemed to grow harder in her hand.
"I've been telling her about your big dick for almost a
year, and she wants to see for herself."
"Has she told you about Jack?" he asked after a moment.
Beth chose her words carefully: "Yes, but only in a
roundabout way."
"'Roundabout'?"
"Well, we don't sit around and compare notes, like 'He
has a big vein down the side, and this little sensitive
spot behind his balls,' but yes, we talk about you. She
knows you're well- endowed, and I know about Jack's
dick." She fell silent, but then almost laughed when she
felt David tensing, working up the courage to ask:
"He's not bigger than me, is he?"
She held her index fingers about six inches apart --
well short of David's eight and a half -- but hastily
added, "I've never seen it, of course, but Susan told
me."
"That's a pretty decent size," David said.
"Well, I don't have much experience with other dicks,"
she said, teasing him gently, "but yeah, I guess it's
nice. I like yours better, though."
They fell silent for a few minutes, each lost in their
own thoughts. Then Beth decided that she'd waited long
enough. She wanted to taste David, and she wanted it
now.
She kissed her way down his chest until she reached his
navel. She circled it with her tongue, his belly
trembling at the sensation. Then she scooted lower,
until she could easily close her mouth around his dick.
She sucked him quietly for a few minutes, her lips
moving smoothly over his shaft. He came quickly, but she
wasn't surprised. She had been stroking him for a while,
after all. She swallowed and then swallowed again, the
heat of his semen filling her with a warm glow.
He didn't grow soft when his orgasm subsided. She
stroked him gently, testing to see if his head was too
sensitive. He didn't wince, so she straddled his hips
and set his shaft at her opening. She sank onto him with
a low groan, heedless of Susan and Jack.
Susan can fend for herself tonight, she thought with a
wry grin. I've got my man. Who could ask for anything
more?
"What're you grinning about?" David asked, his voice
tight with concentration.
"Ira Gershwin," she said. "Or George. I don't know. Who
cares? Shut up and fuck me."
David stifled a laugh. "You're the one who's doing all
the talking," he said, his hands on her hips as she
began rocking.
She didn't argue. Instead, she bent over him, her hands
on the pillow by his head. Her breasts swayed toward his
face, and he rewarded her by capturing a nipple. He
licked and sucked as she rode him. He liked it when she
was on top, for that very reason.
That's because he's a tit man, she thought, grinning.
Oh, God!
And I'm a dick woman.
"Eat your heart out, Susan," she murmured.
David suddenly launched his hips up, impaling her with
his dick.
His cock, Beth thought. His big, beautiful, thick, hard,
pumping, spurting cock!
David released her nipple. She rose on her knees and he
began thrusting into her, slamming upward so hard that
she thought he'd bounce her off the bed. He didn't, and
she cried out softly each time he buried himself inside
her. He grunted with the effort, his face a mask of
concentration.
Beth closed her eyes -- she couldn't focus them anyway,
not with David's pounding into her. Instead, she
concentrated on the sensations in her pussy. Electric
jolts of pleasure raced through her, leaving a tingling
buzz in their wake. She felt her orgasm building, and
heard herself panting between cries of "Yes... Yes...
Yes."
She felt herself tense up, and then pleasure exploded
deep in her belly. She felt him spurting within her, but
her own orgasm nearly overwhelmed her.
When she finally came to her senses, she was sprawled
atop him, and they were both panting. She tried to
muster the energy to sit up, but couldn't. His dick was
still buried deep inside her, and it was still as hard
as when she'd first lowered herself onto it. She felt
him pulse inside her and she closed her eyes.
"Oh, my God," she groaned.
**
"Oh, my God," Susan whispered.
Jack silently agreed.
"He was fucking the hell out of her."
Jack arched an eyebrow in surprise -- Susan didn't
normally use language like that.
"Did you hear?" she asked, her voice low and urgent.
"I think the people on the next dock might've heard."
"I'm serious, Jack. That was amazing."
"If you'd like, I can ask David to give you the same
treatment."
She swatted him playfully. "Later," she said. "Once I've
had a chance to talk to Beth."
"Better keep your voice down," he warned. "Remember, if
we can hear them, they can hear us."
She nodded silently. Then she grinned, her expression
turning mischievous. She reached for his erection and
began stroking him. She'd been playing with him since
David and Beth started fucking, but she'd been
preoccupied listening to them.
Now she devoted her full attention to him. She pulled
him between her legs and set his cock at her opening.
Then she rubbed it over her slit, coating them both with
her juices. He sank into her a moment later and she
groaned. Her smooth labia spread around his shaft, as if
holding him in place. She held him close when he bent
forward to kiss her.
He began thrusting, his dick sliding smoothly within
her. She was soaking wet after listening to the other
couple. She'd wanted to open the cabin door and sneak a
peek, but he hadn't let her. He wanted to be a swinger,
not a Peeping Tom -- he wouldn't spy on a friend and his
wife.
"Fuck me, Jack," Susan murmured in his ear, her breath
hot on his skin. The November evening had turned chilly,
and her body felt good against his.
He moved inside her, his hips grinding against her with
each thrust. She gripped his ass, and he began thrusting
faster, his hips slapping into her. Her breasts bounced
with each thrust, her dark nipples a blur in the faint
light.
After several minutes, he pulled out and said, "Turn
over."
She rose on hands and knees. He scooted forward, found
her opening by touch, and sank into her. She groaned
again, her back bowing with pleasure. He gripped her
hips and began thrusting. They fucked like that for
several minutes, sometimes going slow, sometimes fast.
But the past days' exertions were finally catching up to
him, and he couldn't keep it up much longer. So he
pulled out and rolled to his back beside her.
She threw a leg over him and lowered herself onto his
shaft. Then she began riding him, her breasts swaying in
time with her hips. He cupped them, testing their
weight. When he twisted her nipples, she gasped quietly.
"Are you thinking about David?" he asked, his voice
pitched low. "Are you thinking about his cock inside
you?"
Her nostrils flared as she shook her head.
He knew his wife, and he played a hunch. "Are you
thinking about sucking him while you fuck me?"
Her eyes popped open and she looked guilty. "You...
think... you're... so... clever..." she panted.
He nodded.
"Well... you're not."
"We'll see," he said softly. Then he rolled her onto her
back and came to rest between her hips, sitting on his
haunches. He aimed his shaft at her pussy and slid into
her.
She groaned softly.
He began fucking her, taking long strokes and trying to
watch her pussy. It was too dark, though, and he
couldn't see more than vague shapes. So he gripped her
hips and began thrusting for real.
He felt the familiar pressure in his balls, but he
didn't want to come yet. He buried himself inside her
and stopped moving. Then he sat back and began playing
with her clit, rubbing it with his thumb. She was
already worked up, and it didn't take her long to
climax. She arched her back and shuddered, her pussy
gushing around his shaft.
He began moving his hips while she was still in the
throes of her orgasm. She pulled him close and held him
as spasms filled her pussy. He fucked her for a few
thrusts, but then felt the surging heat and pleasure of
his own orgasm. He thrust once, hard, and groaned as he
erupted.
**
"It sounds like we started something," Beth joked
quietly, her head resting on David's shoulder.
"Mmm hmm." He was hard again, and she stroked him
lightly, occasionally teasing his balls with her
fingernails.
"Are you ready for round three?" she asked. "Or is this
round two? Did those first orgasms count as two rounds,
or one long one?" She almost felt him roll his eyes. She
grinned. "I'm just trying to keep count."
"Has anyone told you you're insatiable?" he said.
"Not recently. Why?"
"No reason. I just thought you should know."
"If I admit that you're right, will you fuck me?" He
liked it when she talked dirty. "Will you stick your
big, hard cock in me? Or do you want me to suck you? You
can hold my head and fuck my face. Then you can come
wherever you want -- in my pussy, down my throat, on my
tits... anywhere."
"God, you really are insatiable tonight," he said
softly.
"Mmm hmm. Being with you does it to me. Now, are you
going to decide? Or do you want me to?"
He shook his head in disbelief. But he knew better than
to call her bluff, so he gestured for her to mount him.
With a grin, she swung her leg over his hips. She slid
onto him easily.
Unlike the first time -- Actually, the second time, she
thought wryly, but who's counting? -- they took their
time and made love slowly. He held her to his chest, her
breasts flattened against him. He rocked his hips,
moving himself within her. After a while she began
moving her own hips, pressing her clit against the hard
base of his shaft.
She came quietly, hugging him with an intensity that
would've hurt a smaller man. When she came to her
senses, she felt an overwhelming love for him. She
buried her face in the hollow of his neck, waves of
pleasure still surging through her body. She inhaled the
scent of him and kissed his neck gently. He wrapped his
arms around her and she felt him kiss her hair.
Timeless, disconnected minutes passed, and she
eventually realized that he was still hard within her.
Her pussy was sensitive, but she began moving atop him,
moving just enough for him to feel it. He cupped her ass
and began rocking his hips, gently driving himself into
her. He tensed up, and she felt him fill her.
They held each other for a long moment, and then she
kissed the side of his neck again. She rested her head
on his shoulder, the sweat drying on their bodies in the
cool air.
"I love you," she whispered.
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he stroked her
hair and began rubbing her back.
She luxuriated in the feeling of his fingertips --
normally so strong and powerful -- as they caressed her
back, sending shivers down her spine.
She didn't ask if she could sleep with him. She already
knew the answer, so she closed her eyes and drew a deep,
satisfied breath.
**
Jack buried himself as deep as he could and gasped as he
emptied his balls into Susan. She clutched his arms, her
legs wrapped around his to hold him inside her. When his
orgasm subsided he flopped to the mattress beside her,
completely exhausted.
"Oh, my," she said quietly.
He couldn't even muster the energy to reply, and simply
blew softly.
With a weary groan, she draped herself over him, her
body hot and slick with sweat. "Oh, my," she said again,
a mere whisper. "We should eavesdrop more often."
He swallowed to moisten his mouth and nodded silently.
Then he grinned to himself. Listening to David and Beth
had gotten him worked up a second time, and fantasies of
Susan and Beth together had done for a third.
He was dead tired, though, from three days of hard work
and three hours of intense sex. Still, visions of Susan
and Beth filled his imagination as he closed his eyes
and drifted off to sleep.
**
Jack blinked awake and smelled fresh coffee. Susan was
still asleep beside him, and the sky was just beginning
to lighten in the east. He rose and dressed quietly.
When he closed the cabin door behind him, he realized
that Beth was still asleep in the port berth. The sheet
clung to her, revealing the curve of...
He paused. He wanted to see her body, but he wasn't
going to do it when she was asleep, so he politely fixed
his eyes ahead.
"Mornin'," he said to David when he reached the galley.
David poured him a cup of coffee by way of greeting.
"How'd you sleep?"
David flashed a thumbs-up. Then he silently tossed his
head, with a look that said, "You?"
"Fine, thanks." Jack grinned. "When I got to sleep, that
is."
David answered with sheepish smile.
"The... uh... the lack of privacy doesn't bother you,
does it?"
David shook his head. He was like this sometimes, Jack
thought -- he didn't talk much, but that didn't mean he
didn't communicate.
Aloud, Jack asked, "It doesn't bother Beth, does it?"
A shrug, but then a considered headshake.
"Good. I'd hate for her to feel uncomfortable."
David smiled, grateful.
"And I'm sorry we don't have a double berth for you,
but..." He felt his face warm. "Well... you didn't seem
to mind."
A guilty grin.
Jack cleared his throat diffidently. He didn't mind
talking about sex, but it was awkward with another man.
He couldn't understand how women could blithely share
intimate details with each other. So, with a soft snort,
he turned to business.
"I thought we'd take advantage of shore power while we
can," he said. The Nereid's water heater ran on a 110-
volt line from the marina, but it was a dockside luxury
they'd have to live without once they set sail. "The
water isn't as hot as an aircraft carrier's, but it's
better than nothing."
"We'll survive," David said, breaking his silence. "I
don't know about the girls, though. Beth likes her hot
showers."
Jack laughed. "So does Susan. What a surprise, huh?"
David grinned.
"Anyway," Jack continued, "I was thinking... after we
shower, it'd be nice to have Sunday brunch ashore. Sort
of a farewell meal, since it'll be the last one we don't
cook for ourselves for a while."
"Yeah, that sounds nice."
"You wanna shower first?" Jack asked.
"You go ahead. I'm going to have another cup of coffee
and go up on deck."
With a nod, Jack drained his cup and headed forward.
**
Beth woke to the sound of the shower. She was snuggly
warm and didn't want to get up, even though she was
alone in the bunk.
David must be in the shower, she thought. She was
tempted to join him, but she didn't want to move. She
wasn't exactly sore from the night before, but lying in
bed just seemed so much easier than getting up.
The shower stopped.
Too late now, she thought. Still, I could join him as he
dries off.
She'd just thrown off her covers when the bathroom door
opened.
"Oh, sorry," Jack said suddenly, looking away. "I
thought you were still asleep."
"That's okay," Beth said. She thought about covering
herself, but decided to be adventurous instead. He was
still gazing at the floor, so she stood and stretched.
She wanted him to look at her, but he wasn't
cooperating. She stepped closer and gestured at the
bathroom. "May I...?"
"Oh, sure," Jack said. He moved out of the way and she
stepped into the small bathroom.
She wanted to linger, but she couldn't do it without
seeming obvious, so she shut the door. But then she
smiled -- she'd seen the look in his eye.
She rolled her eyes at her antics. I'm turning into
Susan, she thought wryly.
"Is that such a bad thing?" she asked aloud.
**
Jack closed the cabin door and slid into bed behind
Susan.
"Oh, my," she said languidly, still half asleep. "What's
gotten into you this morning? First last night, and now
this?"
He reached between her legs and felt for her clit. She
moaned softly when he found it. He ground his erection
against her ass and she pressed back against him. She
quickly warmed to his touch, her juices coating his
fingers.
When she was wet enough, he slid into her from behind.
She gasped softly as he began thrusting. He kissed her
neck again and reached for her breast. Her nipple
hardened in his palm and he squeezed gently.
He came quicker than he wanted to, but she didn't seem
to mind. She simply draped herself across him when he
rolled to his back.
"Mmm, that was nice," she said softly.
His chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing, but
she hardly seemed winded. He chuckled to himself -- of
course, she barely had time to get worked up.
Jack imagined Beth's body again, although he felt guilty
about it. It felt wrong to think about another woman so
soon after he'd had sex with his wife. Unfortunately, he
couldn't help himself.
He replayed the scene in his mind. It's almost like she
wanted me to see her. Even though he'd been trying not
to, he'd gotten a good look out of the corner of his
eye.
Beth's tan had faded to a light bronze, but like Susan,
she didn't have tan lines. Unlike Susan, she had a neat
triangle of pubic hair. His mind's eye traveled up the
memory of her body, over her smooth stomach to her
breasts and pinkish-tan nipples, soft and inviting. His
dick twitched.
"You can wake me up like that anytime," Susan said
softly.
He smiled and tried to forget the sight of Beth's body.
He couldn't, though, and his dick hardened when Susan
idly caressed it.
"Again?" she said, but didn't wait for an answer. She
knew his reactions, so she crawled between his legs.
She gave his dick an experimental kiss and then moaned
softly. "I love tasting myself on you," she said, her
voice low and husky.
She began sucking in earnest, and he did his level best
not to fantasize about Beth.
**
After brunch, they stopped at a farmer's market for
fresh produce. When they returned to the boat, Jack and
David topped the water tanks while the women stored the
fruit and vegetables in the galley's DC-powered cooler.
The day was overcast, and the weather service reported a
steady northwest wind blowing at eighteen to twenty
knots. The Nereid might be a cruiser, but she had racing
blood in her, and Jack was eager to test her speed in
the fresh breeze.
"What's the word, hummingbird?" he called toward the
open hatchway.
Beth stuck her head out and smiled when she saw him.
Jack felt a rush of desire, but suppressed it quickly.
"I think we have everything," she said. "Susan and I
have gone over our list again, but you can double check
if you want."
He shook his head. "If you two are happy, then I'm
happy."
She smiled again --
God, she has the most beautiful smile! -- and
disappeared below.
He tried to put Beth out of his mind as he called
forward to David, who was working at the bow. He
finished what he was doing and came aft.
"Ready when you are, Skipper," David said. Then he began
humming the tune from Gilligan's Island.
Jack gave him a hard look.
David grinned smugly.
Jack decided to tease back: "Okay. But if I'm the
skipper, you know who that makes you... Right, little
buddy?"
The humming died abruptly.
"Right," Jack drawled, "I thought you'd see it my way."
"Aye, aye."
Jack grew serious. "With this wind," he said, glancing
up, "we'll have to back on a spring." He paused to
consider the web of mooring lines that held the boat
fast to the dock. "Single up to one bow line, one stern
line, and the stern spring on a bight."
Susan and Beth came on deck.
"What can we help with?" Beth asked.
"You can help David with the mooring lines," Jack said
to her.
"You take them in when he casts them off. All right?"
She nodded and then headed forward as David leapt to the
dock.
"Is there anything I can do?" Susan asked.
"Sit here and keep me company," Jack said, nodding at
the cockpit benches. He dropped into the after cockpit.
"It seems weird," she said, "not having anyone at the
dock to wave us off."
"Uh-uh. It's bad luck." He started the engine and tested
the transmission in Ahead. The water churned behind the
boat and he shifted to Astern. Satisfied, he shifted to
Neutral.
"Bad luck?" Susan said.
"Singled up fore and aft," David reported.
He ignored Susan for a moment and called to David, "Cast
off forward."
"Cast off forward, aye."
"Cast off aft," Jack said a moment later.
David cast off the stern mooring line and tossed it
aboard. The boat began to drift away from the dock, held
only by the stern spring line. He scrambled up the steps
and leapt across the short distance to the Nereid's
deck. He immediately headed forward to coil and stow the
mooring lines Beth had brought in.
"Bad luck to have friends wave you off," Jack said to
Susan, picking up where he'd left off. "Bad luck to
leave on a Friday, too."
She looked dubious.
"I don't make this stuff up," he said. "Sailors are a
superstitious lot."
She rolled her eyes.
"You think I'm just being silly," he said, "but we
wouldn't've left on Friday, even if we'd been ready.
Trust me. I may not put much stock in sailors'
superstitions, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna flout
'em."
He pulled the transmission lever to Astern and nudged
the throttle. With a displacement of sixteen tons, the
Nereid barely moved. He nudged the throttle again and
felt her shudder with movement. She finally eased back,
and the spring line grew taut. The boat's stern crabbed
toward the dock while the bow swung away. When she'd
turned enough, Jack shifted to Ahead. The boat checked
her way and began to glide away from the dock.
"Prepare to take in the spring line," he called to
David, who echoed the order.
Jack chopped the throttle and pulled the transmission to
Neutral.
He didn't want the propeller spinning with a line in the
water.
After all, a fouled shaft was the last thing he wanted.
He gave the order and David reeled in the dripping line.
"All clear," he said at last.
"All clear, aye," Jack said. He shifted to Ahead and
eased the throttle forward. The boat gathered way,
headed toward the mouth of the marina. "Here we go."
David stowed the fenders and then dropped into the
cockpit. He put his arm around Beth and sighed.
Jack felt the same way. He had the wind in his hair and
the scent of the ocean in his nostrils. He pulled Susan
close. Her body felt good next to his, warm and soft.
He began whistling a shanty.
Sally, she's a pretty little craft,
Sharp to the fore and rounded aft.
**
Once they cleared the marina, Jack turned the bow into
the wind.
"Prepare to set the main," he said.
"Prepare to set the main, aye," David said, already
casting loose the gaskets. A minute later he stood at
the winch.
"Set the main!"
David cranked and the mainsail rose smartly, fluttering
in the breeze. The wind was chilly, especially with the
sun behind the clouds, but the weather report promised
clear skies and warmer temperatures to the south.
Susan and Beth watched the mainsail rise, but Jack kept
a lookout for nearby boats. San Diego Harbor was a busy
place, especially with all the weekend sailors who were
taking advantage of the wind.
Several smaller yachts were sailing off the port beam,
probably racers out for an afternoon competition. Since
the Nereid was cruising under power, the sailboats had
the right of way, so Jack bore away to starboard when
the main was set. He trimmed the sail and then killed
the engine.
"Prepare to set the jib," he called forward.
"Prepare to set the jib, aye."
He gave the order.
The sail was light enough to raise by hand, although
David had wrapped the halyard around the winch to make
it easer to haul. When he came aft to tend the jib
sheets, Jack glanced at the racers.
The smaller boats would run clear in a few minutes, and
Nereid could come about and cross their wake. He kept an
eye on them, gauging their progress.
"Ready about," he boomed at last.
"Ready," David said.
"Ready about," he called again, glancing at Susan and
Beth. They'd struck up a conversation, and weren't
paying a bit of attention to him. He felt a moment's
irritation, but quickly shook it off.
Why wouldn't they talk to each other and tune out the
back-and- forth of working the boat? After all, they
didn't know he wanted them to pay attention now.
He chuckled to himself. He'd had the same problem when
he first became an instructor pilot. Then as now, he had
to remind himself not to lose his temper simply because
someone didn't know what to do. He shook his head at his
own impatience.
He still had plenty of sea room ahead, so he decided to
wait to come about. He consciously relaxed and put on
his instructor's face.
"Sorry to interrupt, ladies," he said.
They fell silent and looked back at him.
"We're going to come about in a minute or two," he said.
"When we're ready to turn, I'll call 'Ready about.'"
Beth blushed. "Sorry."
Susan looked puzzled. "For what?"
"I knew that," Beth said. "We were supposed to say
'Ready.'"
Jack nodded for Susan's benefit. "When I call 'Ready
about,' it's really a question. I need to make sure
everyone aboard knows we're about to turn. When we do,
lots of things will happen at once, and some of them can
be dangerous if you're not paying attention."
"Like what?" Susan asked.
"Like the boom knocking you overboard," David said
evenly.
"Oh."
"Yep," Jack said. "That's why the helmsman lets everyone
know what he's about to do. That's also why David and I
talk to each other as we work the boat. I call an order
and he repeats it, so we know we're on the same
frequency. If I shout 'Ready about' and I don't hear
'Ready,' then I won't turn the boat."
The women nodded seriously.
"So you don't need to pay attention to everything we
say, but it's a good idea to listen with half an ear." A
thought occurred to him and he grinned. "Think of us as
your children: when we get loud, you need to pay
attention."
"You pay attention to children when they get quiet,"
Susan said wryly, "but I understand."
"Okay," he conceded with a grin. "But when I shout
'Ready about,' you need to make sure you're clear of the
boom and ready for the turn."
They nodded.
"I won't turn till I hear from everyone, so take your
time and make sure you're really ready. Okay?"
"We're sorry, Captain Jack," Susan said. "Let's try
again."
She was teasing him, and he felt a stab of irritation.
This is serious, he thought peevishly. She wasn't some
student pilot he could rake over the coals, so he
swallowed his frustration and scanned the surrounding
ocean.
"Ready about," he said again, his voice pitched to
carry.
"Ready," the women chorused.
Jack didn't move. Instead, he skewered David with a
pointed look.
The man grinned, insufferably wry. "Ready, aye."
Jack glanced heavenward and tried to appear long-
suffering.
The women laughed, and he felt his exasperation drain
away.
"Helm's alee," he called at last.
He turned the wheel and the boat came about, quick and
responsive. David re-sheeted the jib and she gathered
way, white water racing along the leeward rail as she
heeled. Point Loma sheltered them from the full force of
the wind, but they were already making better than five
knots.
How could I possibly be annoyed on a day like today?
Jack asked himself.
He glanced at Susan and she apologized with her eyes.
Me too, he said silently.
She understood.
He closed his eyes and listened to the song in the
rigging. He breathed the sea air, fresh and sharp. The
Nereid surged beneath him, and he felt the life in her
as she sped toward the open ocean.
CHAPTER TEN
The low pressure front pushed to the north, exactly as
the weather report predicted. Still, Jack felt a sense
of relief that the high pressure system moving in from
the south had arrived as forecast. Even at the end of
hurricane season, and even in the cooler waters of the
eastern Pacific, late-season storms could wreak havoc
with small craft.
But the sky had begun to clear as they passed the
Coronado Islands and entered Mexican waters. Later, they
watched a glorious Pacific sunset, the sky ablaze with
color, full of pinks and reds and oranges.
Susan and Beth went below to fix dinner. They had
trouble with the close confines of the galley and the
motion of the boat, but they eventually emerged with
plates of sandwiches and potato chips.
They had a picnic of sorts in the cockpit. David was at
the helm. The soft glow from the compass binnacle lit
his face. Beth passed him a plate and then climbed into
the aft cockpit with him.
The breeze was still a moderate fifteen knots, but the
temperature had dropped when the sun went down. The
evening was downright chilly, and Jack was glad he'd
brought his heavy windbreaker. The women both wore
turtlenecks and thick sweaters, and David had donned his
Navy pea jacket.
"Do you want to take the helm?" David asked after
dinner.
Jack shook his head. "You keep it. I'll take over when
we get closer to Ensenada. We'll anchor for the night."
"Will we need to stand watch?"
"Not tonight," Jack said. "Once we get under way
tomorrow, the day watches should be pretty informal. One
of us needs to be at the helm or on deck at all times.
Other than that..." He shrugged. "Like I said, pretty
informal."
David nodded.
"We'll need formal watches at night while we're under
way," Jack continued. "Two-person watches, four on, four
off."
David nodded again.
"Unfortunately," Jack said, "I need to take the morning
watch."
"Why 'unfortunately'?" Susan asked.
Jack grimaced. "It begins at oh four hundred."
"Oh."
"I need to catch the morning stars, to do my celestial
navigation. So that means you and I have to haul
ourselves out of the rack at zero dark thirty."
She groaned.
"But David and Beth will just be getting to bed when we
get up," he said. "They'll have the midwatch: midnight
to four."
David shrugged philosophically. "Another fine day in the
Navy."
Jack grinned.
"I don't remember joining the Navy," Susan said to Beth,
her tone sardonic.
Beth merely smiled and shrugged.
"Well, if I'm going to have to 'stand a watch,'" Susan
said into the silence, "then I want to learn what I'm
doing."
She'd always been a feminist, even before it had become
fashionable. She wasn't ready to join Betty Friedan and
her bunch, but she came close. Her determination was one
of the things he loved about her. Her beauty might fade
over time, but she'd always have an independent spirit.
"All right," he said aloud, "let's get the chart and you
can help me plot our course."
**
They reached Ensenada shortly after ten o'clock. The
small Mexican city was their last chance for diesel and
fresh water until they reached Turtle Bay, two days'
sail down the coast. It was also their last chance to
purchase anything they'd forgotten.
Several other boats were anchored in the harbor,
including a big two-masted schooner looming above the
skyline. Jack and David anchored the Nereid a safe
distance from the other boats.
They'd had a good first day, covering fifty nautical
miles in nine hours. Nothing had broken, parted, or gone
overboard. Jack had a mental list of little things he'd
forgotten, but they weren't worth going ashore for. He
and David furled the sails and then headed into the warm
glow of the cabin.
With a flourish, Jack withdrew a bottle of champagne
from the cooler. They didn't have proper flutes, but no
one seemed to mind. He popped the cork, poured four
glasses, and they toasted their first day's journey.
Much to his surprise, Susan brought out a gift-wrapped
box.
"It's sort of an early Christmas present," she said,
handing it to him.
The box was about the size of a large cigar humidor, and
heavy. He tore off the wrapping paper and gazed down at
the rich mahogany box. He opened it and felt his breath
catch at the sight of an antique brass sextant. Someone
had polished the brass, but it still showed signs of
careful use.
Susan seemed to be holding her breath. "Do you like it?"
"Like it?" he said, taking the instrument out. "Like it?
I love it!"
She beamed.
"Seriously, Suz," he said, "it's beautiful."
"It's from the 1860s," she said. "It belonged to a
clipper captain in San Francisco."
Jack held the sextant to his eye and gazed through the
lens. Then he tested the smooth movement of the arc. He
had a modern Cassens & Plath sextant, but the brass one
was a thing of beauty, a working piece of art and
history.
"It's beautiful," he said again. Then he remembered his
manners and looked up. "Thank you very much."
Susan smiled warmly.
"Can you use it to navigate?" Beth asked.
"Sure!" he said. "It's as good as the modern one I have.
Maybe it doesn't have tenths of a minute on the vernier
arc, but David can shoot sun lines with the modern
sextant to double-check my navigation."
"It's been a while since I've had to use a sextant,"
David said hesitantly.
"It's like riding a bike," Jack said. He fell silent
then, and simply gazed at the beautiful instrument in
his hands. "Thank you," he said again, his voice soft
with reverence.
**
Beth woke the next morning to the smell of eggs and
bacon. She was in the right-hand berth --
The starboard berth, she reminded herself.
David's berth on the port side was empty, and she
suspected he was the reason she smelled breakfast. The
morning was still chilly, so she slipped into her jeans
and sweater after she went to the bathroom.
She could see why Jack had been so particular about the
toilet. It wasn't exactly cantankerous, but it wasn't as
simple as she'd first thought. Nothing was as simple as
she'd first thought. Fixing sandwiches the night before
had been a minor trial, with food sliding across the
counter as the boat moved.
She was grateful that David had decided to fix
breakfast. She smiled at a memory of him fixing another
breakfast, of pancakes. He'd been wearing one of her
frilly aprons, and he'd dabbed the tip of her nose with
batter. She tried to remember where that had been.
Milton, Florida? she wondered. But then she remembered
him picking up Paul, who'd just started walking.
Kingsville, Texas, she decided. They'd lived in dreary
off-base housing for ten months while David did his
advanced flight training. Then they'd moved back to
Florida, to Jacksonville and the Replacement Air Group.
She could chart the course of her married life with the
initials NAS: Naval Air Station. NAS Pensacola. NAS
Whiting Field. NAS Kingsville. NAS Cecil Field. NAS
Lemoore. And Lemoore brought her to Susan. She realized
with a start that she'd known her a year.
A year? she marveled. Has it really been that long? She
smiled inwardly. Of course it's been that long. It
seemed short because you were falling in love.
David gave her a puzzled look, and she realized that her
emotions must have been written on her face. She gave
him a phony smile and slipped into the dinette. A moment
later he brandished a plate with eggs and toast. He set
it in front of her and she kissed him in thanks. As he
turned back to the stove, her thoughts turned inward
again.
What if he finds out how I feel about Susan?
Beth knew that her relationship with David wouldn't
change, but did he know that? Would he see Susan as a
threat? A rival?
Beth scoffed at the thought. David knew he didn't have
any rivals, male or female. She loved him with all her
heart, utterly and completely. She couldn't imagine life
without him. But how would he see things? Would he brush
it off? Would he brood? She had a panicked thought:
would he make her choose between him and Susan?
She idly forked her eggs. Part of her noticed that they
were perfect, over hard without being crispy on the
edges. But the bigger part of her was still worried
about what David would think if he ever found out she
loved another woman.
She'd given up trying to deny her feelings. She'd given
up trying to tell herself it was wrong. And she'd given
up trying to change.
But would David see things the same way?
Panicked thoughts aside, she knew he wouldn't make her
choose. He was secure in their relationship. She knew he
looked at other women, but she also knew that he'd never
done more. Plenty of pilots screwed anything that moved
(her brother came to mind), but David wasn't like them.
She knew he had a wilder side -- things he'd let slip
while talking about Subic Bay -- but he never went too
far.
That's why he and Jack are friends, she told herself.
Jack valued loyalty and duty above all else, and would
never have a friend who couldn't be loyal to his own
wife. He and David were the same kind of men: they liked
to look, but they didn't touch.
But David wants to touch, she thought, especially Susan.
As if on cue, Susan and Jack emerged from the salon.
"Good morning," Jack half-boomed. "That coffee smells
good."
Susan smiled and slid into the dinette. "Morning," she
said. "How'd you sleep?"
"Fine, thanks," Beth said. "You?"
Susan grinned and leaned close. "Good, but not as good
as the night before."
Beth felt her cheeks heat at the memory.
David came to her rescue. "How do you want your eggs?"
he asked Susan.
"Over medium, please."
"Comin' up."
Susan leaned close to Beth again. "I'm glad David
decided to cook breakfast. I wasn't looking forward to
another meal like last night."
"You did just fine for your first time," Jack said,
coffee mug in hand. "But you're right, it takes some
getting used to."
"It does get easier, though," David said over his
shoulder.
That sounded good with the boat rocking gently at
anchor, Beth thought, but she understood what Susan was
talking about. Beth had been sailing at least a dozen
times, in calm seas, rough seas, and everything in
between. But Susan had been on a boat precisely three
times, all in calm weather. Still, the men were right:
they would get used to the movement of the sea.
"When do we set sail?" she asked, changing the subject.
"After breakfast," Jack said, sliding into the dinette
as David set two plates on the table.
He cracked three eggs and began cooking his own
breakfast. Beth tried to finish her eggs, but she'd let
them get cold. She wasn't hungry anyway. Worse, she was
still worried what David would think if he ever realized
how she felt about Susan.
Unfortunately, the question wasn't going to answer
itself.
**
Jack gazed up at the sails.
"Lewis said the winds along this stretch of coast were
light," he muttered in disgust, "but this isn't 'light.'
It's dead calm."
David nodded in commiseration.
The Nereid had left Ensenada two hours earlier, with the
winds light and variable. Jack had hoped the breeze
would pick up offshore, but it hadn't. Unfortunately,
the high pressure system must have stalled the winds. He
jabbed the engine start button, and the diesel came to
life.
After another disgusted sigh he steadied the boat on her
course and bumped the throttle to full. The mainsail
gave a desultory flutter, but it was only the wind of
their passage.
"Let's strike the sails," he said to David. "No sense
leaving them aloft. We'll see any wind long before it
reaches us."
The miles flowed past and the seas picked up, with a
long swell coming from the northwest. They were sailing
south-southeast, so the swell took them almost dead
astern.
Unfortunately, the day was still a bit cold, although
the sun was shining. The weather forecast called for
temperatures in the low sixties, so Jack had decided to
forego the solar shower and let the women use the
regular shower instead.
"Remember," he'd told them, "we only have 120 gallons of
fresh water aboard. We should be able to top our tanks
in Turtle Bay, but there's a reason they say 'Don't
drink the water' in Mexico. Okay?"
The women had both nodded conscientiously.
In reality, Jack wasn't worried about fresh water. He
didn't want them to waste it, but Lewis had said the
water in Turtle Bay was fine. He and David would
probably have to use the dinghy to haul five-gallon
jerry cans -- which weighed nearly fifty pounds apiece
when full -- but fresh water was fresh water, and they
couldn't live without it.
**
"You go ahead," Beth said when Susan gestured at the
shower.
Susan shed her clothes, but Beth didn't pay much
attention. Instead, she was caught up in her dilemma.
She didn't want to tell David how she felt, but she
didn't want to hide things from him either.
But her fantasies weren't reality. She knew that he must
have fantasies about other women -- Susan especially --
but they were hardly "cheating." Her fantasies were the
same, but she still felt she was betraying him. That
worried her more than anything else.
She knew she loved him, and she didn't love him any less
because she loved Susan too. She chuckled darkly at the
symmetry: she loved Paul and then Erin came into her
life; she loved David and then Susan came into her life.
She had room in her heart for all of them.
She was still smiling to herself when Susan flung open
the bathroom door.
"Oh my. That was brisk," she said. "I'd much rather
shower with the solar contraption."
"It's cold on deck," Beth said, "even without a breeze."
"No kidding," Susan said. "Why else would Jack let us
use some of his precious fresh water?" She frowned at
the sound of her voice. Then she laughed at herself. "I
meant that to sound lighthearted, but I guess I miss my
hot shower more than I thought."
Beth laughed. "I was just thinking the same thing."
"Here," Susan said, stepping out of the way, "I'll let
you freeze your nipples off."
"Thanks," Beth said dryly. She stepped into the shower
closet and closed the door. The water was as cold as she
feared, and she gasped in shock as it struck her. "It
takes your breath away, doesn't it?" she said as she
began to lather.
"You think that's bad?" Susan said through the thin
wall. "The lake at my parents' place is spring-fed, and
it's cold, even in the heat of summer. I used to run
down the hill and dive into it, though." She chuckled.
"Usually with a couple of boys chasing me."
Beth smiled to herself. She could imagine Susan leading
a pack of boys around by the nose. Or some other handy
appendage.
"And my parents' house has an outdoor shower, but it's
cold water only." Susan laughed again. "Sometimes, I'd
take a quick shower before meeting my boyfriend."
"Why in God's name would you do that?"
"To make my nipples hard. I was a late bloomer, so I had
to use all the tricks in the book to get guys to look at
me. Or so I thought. Maybe that's why I'm such a tease."
Beth couldn't resist. She opened the shower door and
peered out. "You?" she said facetiously. "A tease?
Perish the thought." Her eyes flashed and she grinned as
she shut the door. Then she steeled herself for the
water again. She pumped the handle and a cold torrent
doused her, taking her breath away. Again.
From the other side of the door, Susan chuckled
ironically. "Believe it or not, I had to work hard to
get like this." She laughed again, gay and bright. "So
much for being a proper young lady!"
Beth laughed and opened the door.
Susan offered her a towel and then glanced at her chest.
"See what I mean about the cold water?"
Beth rolled her eyes and began to dry herself.
"Are you going to shave?" Susan asked.
Beth ran a hand over her legs. The hair was light
blonde, so she didn't have to worry about it showing,
but she didn't like the feel of stubble. "Probably," she
said at last.
"Then I guess I will too."
Beth reached for her razor.
"We probably should've done this in the shower," Susan
said as she leaned against the wall and propped her foot
on the edge of the sink. She'd already filled the basin
with water.
The outer bathroom wasn't big enough for both of them,
so Beth stayed in the little shower closet. She set her
foot on the lid of the commode and spread shaving cream
from ankle to thigh.
They shaved in companionable silence, but Beth was
startled when Susan spread a dollop of cream over her
pubic area. She hid her surprise, and silently chided
herself for her reaction.
She doesn't want Jack to chafe his lips, she thought
with a smirk.
Susan carefully shaved herself. When she was done, she
ran her fingertips over her smooth mons and glanced up.
Beth felt her face flush with a combination of
embarrassment and arousal. She quickly busied herself
with her comb.
They finished their bathroom routine in friendly silence
and then wrapped themselves in their towels, more for
warmth than modesty. When Susan opened the door, she
pulled back.
"Oh," she said. "Sorry."
Beth looked past her to see a very embarrassed David.
Then she almost felt Susan working up to some mischief.
"Sorry," David said, his eyes shifting nervously. "I
didn't realize you were still in there."
"That's okay," Susan said. "We're finished now. Well...
almost finished."
He looked puzzled.
Even from behind, Beth could tell that Susan was
grinning.
Poor David almost choked when she flashed him.
"He's all yours now," she said over her shoulder to
Beth. Still grinning, she disappeared around the corner,
headed toward her cabin.
Beth took pity on David and moved close. "Sorry," she
said, even though she wasn't. "She can be a real tease
sometimes."
"I'll say."
After watching Susan shave, and seeing the look on
David's face, Beth felt a familiar flutter in her
stomach. She moistened her lips and glanced up at David.
"Did you want to shower?" she asked.
"If you're done, yeah."
Oh, I'm not 'done.' she thought mischievously. Far from
it. But I'm through with the shower, if that's what you
mean. Aloud, she said, "Sure. You hop in the shower.
I'll fetch you a dry towel."
He nodded and stepped past her.
She got a fresh towel, but shed her own in the process.
When David opened the door after his shower, he was
surprised to find her kneeling on the floor next to the
sink. She tried not to smirk.
He started to ask a question, but fell silent.
"I thought I'd let you dry off before I suck you off."
His eyebrows shot up.
She shrugged, unrepentant. Then she glanced at his poor
balls. They'd shrunk from the cold, and her mouth
watered at the thought of warming them. She offered the
towel and he took it.
"Thanks," he said laconically.
She smiled up at him and clasped her hands in her lap.
From his vantage point, she probably looked demure, but
she was anything but. With her arms at her sides, she
could squeeze her breasts together. He didn't realize
what she'd done, but his eyes were drawn to her
deepening cleavage.
She hid a grin. Then she moistened her lips and pursed
them. His dick twitched. She looked up and met his gaze,
her eyes hooded and sultry. She moistened her lips
again. He arched an eyebrow, and she opened her mouth in
unmistakable invitation.
He stepped forward. His aim was perfect, and she wrapped
her lips around the tip of his stiffening manhood. She
sucked gently, feeling the spongy head fill with blood.
He quickly grew hard, but she let him slip from her
lips. With a breathy sigh, she tilted her head to the
side and held his dick out of the way.
She tongued his wrinkled brown sac, and he grunted
softly. He grunted again when she sucked one of his
balls into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it.
She did the same to the other, inhaling the clean scent
of him. As she nuzzled, she idly stroked his thick
shaft. Suddenly, she felt a glimmer of Susan-like
mischief.
"Do you ever have fantasies of Susan doing this?" she
asked.
Gruffly: "No."
"You should," she said softly, hearing the lie in his
voice. "She loves giving head." She pulled back and
tongued the tip of his shaft. She tasted his pre-come
and smiled to herself. "She says she can almost get
off... just by giving head."
"Lucky for Jack," David said, his voice tightly
controlled.
"But what about you?" Beth asked, kissing the large vein
down the side of his shaft. "Don't you ever think about
two women sucking you off?"
"No."
"Susan wants to suck you. I can see it in her eyes."
He didn't answer.
"I could lick your balls while she sucks you." She could
feel his anticipation. "Or you could take turns fucking
our faces."
"Oh Jesus, Beth," he breathed.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Two women sucking you
off?" She planted a line of kisses along his shaft, her
breath hot on his skin. "What would you do with two
women all to yourself?" She drew back, her lips
caressing him. "Would you fuck us both? Would you let
us--?"
She reached the tip of his dick and recoiled in shock as
hot semen splashed over her cheek. She quickly aimed him
at her mouth. The second blast hit the back of her
throat and she swallowed. She tasted him and smelled him
and felt him all at once, her senses overwhelmed. He
gripped her head and shuddered with the force of his
orgasm. She swallowed again, the liquid hot in her
throat.
When he finally stopped spurting, she held his hips and
opened her mouth. She swallowed as much of him as she
could at once. Then she paused, her breathing deep and
deliberate. She opened her mouth again and felt the head
of his dick enter her throat. A few inches more, and she
wrapped her lips around the base.
He grunted, his hands still on her head. She sucked
gently, her nose pressed into the damp, warm mass of his
pubic hair. He grunted again when she pulled back, her
lips tight around his shaft. She took a deep breath and
swallowed him again, the pressure in her throat making
her eyes water. She took him all the way, though, her
lips forming a tight "O" around the base of his shaft.
She pulled back and blinked to clear her eyes. "I bet
Susan can't do that," she said.
He smiled and brushed the backs of his fingers over her
cheek.
His come was still wet on the other cheek.
She kissed the tip of his dick, shiny with her saliva.
She wanted him to fuck her, so she goaded him
shamelessly. "Susan really does like giving head," she
said. "And I know she wants to suck you off. She hasn't
come right out and said it, of course, but I know her."
Before he could respond, she swallowed him again, taking
his dick to the root. She pulled back, her eyes
twinkling with desire.
"I might just let her, too," she said. "But not before
you bend me over the sink and fuck me."
Much to her surprise, David almost yanked her to her
feet. He turned her around and entered her from behind.
Her eyes flew wide at the sudden intrusion, and she
silently thanked God she was already wet.
David began thrusting and she closed her eyes. He
gripped her hips hard enough to hurt, but she didn't
care. His dick -- his big, thick, wonderful dick --
filled her with every thrust. She had to keep from
banging her face into the mirror, but she didn't care.
Instead, she concentrated on the feeling between her
legs.
David fucked her for timeless minutes, his hips slapping
her ass and filling the small room with the sounds of
their sex. Too soon, he buried himself and she felt him
spurt deep within her. She was on the verge of her own
orgasm, and she whimpered with need. He reached between
her legs. His finger found her clit and she arched her
back.
"Oh, yes," she hissed.
Pleasure exploded within her and the world went white.
She closed her eyes, but the brightness was in her
brain. The pleasure seemed to go on and on, and she
could feel her tummy heaving with the force of her
orgasm.
Finally, she came to her senses and let her forehead
press against the cool glass of the mirror.
"I don't..." David panted, an edge in his voice,
"want... to have sex... with Susan."
But what if I do? Beth asked silently.
**
The Nereid motored through the night, making a steady
six knots, the diesel clattering softly beneath the
cabin floor. They were still motoring the next morning,
and Jack turned a peevish eye aloft, gazing at the bare
mast. He touched the backstay in an old sailor's
gesture, silently praying for a breeze. But the wind
didn't pick up, and he swore under his breath.
If I wanted a motor cruise, I would've borrowed a
powerboat.
Even though the wind didn't change, the sea picked up
after breakfast. Worse, the swell shortened and shifted
direction. Closely spaced waves came from the west-
northwest, causing the boat to pitch and roll -- the
mast swung through seventy degrees in less than ten
seconds.
"Susan...?" Beth said. "Are you all right?"
They were sitting on the cockpit benches, and Jack
spared them a glance.
"I'm fine," Susan said, although she didn't look it. Her
face had gone pale, with a sheen of sweat despite the
cool air. "I'm just waiting for breakfast to settle,"
she said.
Just then, a gust from the northwest blew fine spray
over the rail. The boat rolled into the lee of a wave.
Jack ignored the motion of the sea, straining to pick
out the hint of wind. The boat rose on the next wave,
the deck tilting. He felt the gust again, and shouted
for David to hoist the jib.
Susan stood uncertainly, and Jack split his attention
between the wind and his wife. She turned, and he
realized -- too late -- what she was going to do.
He shouted, "No...!"
She leaned over the rail and vomited.
His voice died. "...not over the windward rail," he
finished uselessly.
The stream of vomit blew back, spattering Susan and
everything near her. Beth was with her in an instant,
heedless of the mess. Susan hung her head over the rail
and vomited again. Most of it hit the side of the boat,
but enough blew back in her face, covering Beth as well.
Jack leapt forward and bent over the two women. The
smell hit him and he had to choke back his own gorge.
Susan heaved again, but merely spit a mouthful of vomit
into the sea. The boat rolled with the next wave and
David dropped into the already crowded cockpit.
"Take the helm," Jack said immediately. He regretted
snapping an order, but David quickly moved behind the
wheel. Jack shot his friend an apologetic look and
received a nod in return.
Susan retched again and spat to clear her mouth. Beth
was holding her hair out of her face, and Jack did the
only thing he could: he put a reassuring hand on her
back. Susan heaved several more times, but nothing came
up.
"I think she's done," Beth said at last, and Susan
nodded weakly.
"Let's get her below," Jack said.
He returned to the cockpit ten minutes later.
"How is she?" David asked.
"She's still nauseous. Beth's with her now." He frowned
as he stated the obvious. Then he looked up -- the wind
had died again. He swore. "And this was supposed to be a
vacation."
David shrugged. "My fun meter is pegged."
Jack smiled at the irony in his friend's voice. Then he
shook off his foul mood. His wife was seasick and he was
worried about the wind?
Time to get your priorities straight, mister, he told
himself silently. Aloud, he said, "Come two points to
port."
"Two points to port, aye." David turned the wheel.
"That should reduce the roll for the time being," Jack
said.
David nodded as he steadied the boat on her new course.
"We'll have to tack when we fetch the land," Jack
continued. "It'll make plotting our course a bit more
challenging, but..." He shrugged. "I'll clean up the
cockpit," he said at last.
He used the simple, age-old expedient of a bucket and
seawater to clean the deck and benches. Then he chuckled
darkly. Susan hadn't known to throw up over the leeward
rail, where the wind would've blown the vomit away from
her. He shouldn't laugh, because he'd learned the lesson
the hard way himself.
"Hey, Zuni," he said at last, "do you mind if I...?" He
gestured toward the cabin.
David shook his head and made a shooing gesture.
"Thanks," Jack said, and went below to check on Susan.
**
"She's okay," Beth said quietly.
Jack loomed over her. He wasn't as big as David, but he
was still imposing, especially when he was anxious.
"I cleaned her face with a washcloth," she continued,
"but I need to get her out of her clothes." She wrinkled
her nose. "They smell like vomit, which isn't making her
seasickness any better."
Jack nodded. "Try to get her to sleep. Don't let her eat
anything, but make sure she drinks something."
Beth bit back a sarcastic reply. She was a mother -- she
knew how to deal with an upset stomach. But Jack
evidently felt the need to issue orders, so she held her
tongue while he told her things she already knew. An
annoyed part of her wanted to answer "Yes, sir!" when he
finished, but she controlled the impulse and simply
said, "Okay."
He lingered for a moment, but then turned away.
Beth rolled her eyes. David was the same in an emergency
-- he wanted to do something, as if stopping to think
was the worst thing he could do. Beth smoothed her
ruffled feathers and watched Jack's retreating back.
With a sigh at her own impatience, she turned to the
cabin and opened the door.
Susan was lying on the bed, limp and motionless.
"Okay," Beth said gently, "let's get you out of those
clothes."
Susan tried to help, but she was weak from vomiting, so
she dropped her hands and sat passively as Beth
undressed her.
"Oh," Beth clucked, "you got it in your hair, too."
"Serves me right," Susan said.
"No, it doesn't. Anyone can get seasick."
She smiled wanly.
Beth tossed her clothes into the corner and found one of
Jack's soft flannel shirts.
Susan shook her head. "I don't sleep in clothes. Not
even in panties." With that, she took hers off and
tossed them aside.
"Oh..." Beth said, distracted. "Okay. I'll fetch a basin
to wash your hair."
Susan shook her head. "I can make it to the sink."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded.
Beth helped her to the bathroom, where Susan brushed her
teeth and then let Beth wash her hair.
Jack can go to hell if he so much as mentions how much
fresh water I just "wasted," Beth thought.
He'd never be so callous, but she smiled at her own
protectiveness. Back in the cabin, she eased Susan onto
the bed. She wanted to stay, but her own clothes were
still spattered with vomit.
"I'll be right back," she said softly, covering Susan
with the sheet and blankets.
She walked back to the main hatch and climbed the three
steps to the cockpit. David was at the wheel. He gave
her a look, silently asking about Susan.
"She's better," she said. Then she plucked at her
clothes. "I stink to high heaven, though."
He smiled and waved away her remark.
She started to ask where Jack was, but he appeared along
the rail.
"How is she?"
"She's fine," Beth said. "But the cabin's pretty
bright... would you put something over the skylight?"
Jack winced at not thinking of it himself. "Right away,"
he said.
She smiled her thanks and returned below. In the main
salon she stripped off her clothes. They followed
Susan's into a laundry bag. She'd have time to wash them
later. In the meantime, she needed to clean herself and
return to her friend.
The shower was shockingly cold, and she cursed silently
as she began to lather her hair.
"I'll have to speak to the captain about the
accommodations," she half-muttered, reaching for the
pump handle. She tensed. Reluctantly -- oh, so
reluctantly -- she pumped.
"Ohmygodthatscold," she gasped.
After she rinsed, she dried off and donned one of
David's white undershirts. She entered the cabin a
moment later -- it was warm and dark.
"Susan?" she said softly.
"I'm alive," Susan said. "Barely. The darkness helps."
Beth sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her friend's
face.
Susan hissed.
"What? Are you all right?"
She laughed weakly. "Your hand is cold."
"Sorry. I just took a shower."
"Did Jack give you a hard time about the water?"
"No."
"Lucky for him," Susan said, a smile in her voice.
"No kidding. I was ready to bite his head off."
"Good for you."
She warmed her hands and then stroked Susan's face
again.
"Oh, that feels nice."
"Close your eyes," Beth said gently. Her own eyes had
finally adjusted to the dark, and she began rubbing
Susan's temples, her fingers light. She massaged her
forehead and then down to her cheeks and jaw.
Susan moaned softly, her face going slack with
relaxation.
"Turn over and I'll rub your back," Beth said.
Susan winced when she moved, but swallowed hard and
quickly rolled to her stomach.
Beth began rubbing.
"Oh," Susan groaned softly, "I'll give you to the count
of one million to stop that."
Beth smiled.
Susan eventually drifted off to sleep, and Beth found
her own eyes drooping as well. After the stress of
caring for her friend, she was worn out.
She won't mind if I lie down for a minute, she thought.
She curled up quietly, intending to rest her eyes for a
few minutes.
**
Beth blinked and looked around in confusion. The room
was dark, and it was... moving. It took her a moment to
remember where she was: the cabin of Nereid.
Memory came flooding back, and she worried about Susan.
She started to sit up, but...
She felt an arm around her middle. Susan's arm, she
realized.
She started to get up again, but she was so comfortable
that she didn't want to move. The men could take care of
themselves, and they certainly didn't need help sailing
the boat.
Her feet were cold, so she wormed under the covers.
Susan didn't wake up, but she scooted closer
automatically. Beth closed her eyes and relaxed in the
warmth of her body.
**
Beth opened her eyes slowly. She didn't know what time
it was, but the boat was still rocking, with a little
shimmy and roll at the end of each rise.
"Fancy meeting you here," Susan said softly, from behind
her.
Beth started to get up in embarrassment.
Susan held her. "Oh, you're fine," she said. "It's just
us girls here."
Beth relaxed and settled back. She was used to David
spooning with her, his body hard against hers. But
Susan's was entirely different.
"I'm sorry I threw up on you," she said after a moment.
"Oh, I've dealt with worse."
Susan chuckled, but then Beth felt her turn serious.
"This is nice," she said after a moment. "You're warm."
"How's your stomach?" Beth asked, changing the subject.
"Do you want something to eat?"
"Not yet." She sighed. "I..."
The pause lengthened, and Beth's stomach fluttered with
anxiety until she felt Susan draw breath to speak.
"I've been thinking..." she said at last.
"About what?"
"About you and me... You and David... This trip..."
Beth's nervousness returned. "What about it?"
"When I turned sixteen..." Susan said.
Beth frowned at the non sequitur, but didn't interrupt.
"...Greg, my boyfriend, took me to the movies. But
instead of actually going to the drive-in, we turned
around at the camp gate and drove back to a clearing. We
walked through the woods to his house, and then around
to his parents' bedroom. It had sliding glass doors, and
the curtains were open. Greg's parents and mine were
having a get-together with some friends, but I had no
idea they'd be..."
"What?" Beth blurted softly.
"My mother was having sex... with Greg's father and
another man."
Beth's eyes flew wide in shock, and she turned to look
at Susan in disbelief.
Susan propped herself on an elbow, her eyes unfocused
with remembrance.
"At first," she continued, "I was angry. Angry with Greg
for showing me. Angry with my mother for humiliating my
father. And angry with my father for letting her do it.
Well, I thought I was angry, at least."
Beth's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean you 'thought you
were angry'?"
"I thought I should be angry, so that was my first
reaction. But I realized -- later -- that I wasn't upset
at all. After all, I couldn't tear my eyes from the
scene in the bedroom. I was captivated. My father was
watching my mother, while another woman knelt in front
of him. Greg's mother was with another couple. They were
all having sex." She paused.
"Needless to say," she said at last, "I was confused."
"I don't blame you," Beth said quietly.
"I was so ashamed..."
"But you had nothing to do with it..."
"No, you don't understand," Susan said. "I was ashamed
because I kept watching, and because I was... excited."
Beth blinked in surprise.
"I was still confused, but I liked watching. I could
tell that my mother was enjoying herself. So was my
father, obviously." She laughed ironically. "I knew my
parents were liberated, but I had no idea."
"No kidding," Beth said, her voice soft with
understatement. "What did you do?"
Another ironic laugh. "I slapped Greg and stormed away."
"What?"
"Exactly," Susan said, reading Beth's confusion. "I
wanted to stay and watch, but I... I don't know how to
explain it... I thought I should react like that. You
know, like in the movies."
Beth nodded.
"Greg ran after me, of course," Susan continued, her
eyes in the past, "but I walked straight home. I
wouldn't even let him kiss me goodnight at the door."
She voiced a soft laugh. "He was expecting to get laid.
Ha! Little did he know." She chuckled again. "Believe it
or not, I wanted to have sex with him, but I thought I
should be upset, so I gave him the cold shoulder."
"What did you do then?"
"I went to my room and threw myself onto my bed. I was
being melodramatic," she added, her eyes twinkling with
laughter at her younger self. "But I kept thinking about
the scene in Greg's parents' room: my mother on her
hands and knees, with Greg's father behind her and
another man in front of her."
"Uh-oh," Beth said. She knew what was coming next.
"Yep," Susan said, "you guessed it. The next thing I
knew, I was playing with myself. I came once, but I was
still horny, so I took off my dress and started again."
She laughed, the sound trailing into a sigh. "I must've
come three or four times in a row.
"But then I felt ashamed," she said. "I knew I shouldn't
get excited about my parents having sex with other
people. It was wrong, I thought -- they were married.
But I couldn't stop thinking about them. It was so...
sexy."
Beth blinked in surprise.
"I didn't get much sleep that night," Susan continued.
"Worse, I was a basket case the rest of the week. I went
from horny to ashamed, excited to withdrawn. My mother
noticed, of course, but I couldn't tell her what I'd
seen. I thought she'd be upset that I was snooping. My
parents were always very open about their bodies, but
they also tried to instill a respect for other people's
privacy."
She laughed softly. "That's one of the few lessons I
didn't learn well. I may not be a gossip, but I'm
horribly curious. Worse, I'm such a voyeur."
Beth smiled and tried to curb her own voyeuristic urge
(Susan's sheet had slid down, exposing her bare
breasts).
Susan picked up the thread of her tale: "My mother
eventually cornered me and asked what was wrong. She
thought it had something to do with Greg. In a
roundabout way, it did. He'd apologized and we'd made
up, but he kept pestering me about what we'd seen."
"What did he want?"
"He wanted me to do the same thing, of course."
"With your parents' friends?"
"Oh, no," Susan said quickly. "With the other teenagers
who came to camp. School was almost over, and summer
vacation was about to start. So Greg was -- how should I
say this? -- sowing the seeds." She laughed. "Little did
he know how fertile the soil was!"
Beth's eyes widened. Does that mean what I think it
does?
"But where was I?" Susan said. "Oh, yes... My mother
finally cornered me. She wanted to know why I'd been
acting the way I had. She knew that Greg and I were
having sex, and she was worried I was pregnant. That
wouldn't happen till a few years later, with Jack.
"But you know all about that. Anyway, my mother finally
dragged the story out of me. I expected her to ground
me, or worse, to talk to my father. I was always Daddy's
little girl, but he could put me in my place with a
single look. So I didn't relish the thought of facing
him over what I'd done."
"What happened?" Beth asked when the pause lengthened.
Susan laughed at the memory. "My mother just laughed.
That's right, she laughed. She'd thought I was pregnant
-- despite all she'd taught me -- and I guess she was
relieved to find out that I'd simply discovered their
swinging."
Beth felt an almost electric buzz at the word. She knew
what it meant, but she never connected it with Susan's
story. She mentally smacked herself in the forehead. Of
course that's what her parents were doing. But... back
then? Isn't swinging a Sixties thing?
"She sat me down and told me the whole story," Susan
continued, oblivious to the jumble of thoughts racing
through Beth's head. "My parents and the Kestrels,
Greg's parents, had started swinging before the camp was
built."
Beth squeezed her legs together with a sudden rush of
arousal.
"It started when Greg's father mentioned how people
bathed together in Japan, so they decided to try that.
One thing led to another, of course."
"Of course," Beth said. The tingle between her legs had
turned into full-blown heat and moisture, and she tried
not to squirm.
"They started swinging with other couples when they
built the camp. Nudist camps weren't all that common
back then, so they attracted like-minded people. But my
parents didn't want to have sex with just anyone who
showed up."
Beth shook her head, reacting more to Susan's tone than
her words.
"They wanted couples who had strong, loving
relationships, but were looking for adventure and
variety. Between the time they built the camp and when I
discovered their goings on, I guess they found three
other couples." She snorted softly. "Three couples in
five or six years."
"People like that don't grow on trees."
"You have no idea..."
Are we still talking about her parents? Beth wondered.
She grew nervous. "What happened with your mother?" she
asked aloud.
"Oh, we had a good talk," Susan said. "She wasn't upset
that I knew about them. She wasn't even upset that I'd
been snooping. I think she was glad to have it out in
the open. Well, it wasn't out in the open, but you know
what I mean."
Beth nodded, but then tried to focus on the story.
"Greg eventually talked me into swinging with some of
the other kids at camp," Susan said. "Although I
probably shouldn't call them kids, because they were
older than me. But we were all teenagers."
Beth swallowed hard as the heat between her legs spread
outward.
"There were five of us in our little group," Susan said.
"Greg and me, of course, along with the son and daughter
of another couple in my parents' group."
"Who was the fifth?" Beth heard herself ask.
"A girl from town. She was Greg's ex-girlfriend, but I
didn't know it at the time." She smiled fondly. "She was
the first woman I ever had sex with."
Beth felt her heart skip a beat. "You mean...?"
"Mmm hmm. I told you I had an adventurous life before I
met Jack."
But you didn't tell me the half of it.
"Jack didn't know about all of this until later," Susan
continued. "When we got married, he knew I was a nudist.
That's it. But after my mother died, I started thinking
about my parents' relationship, and how swinging brought
them closer." She smiled fondly. "They were always so
happy and affectionate after one of their 'Cocktail
Parties.'" As an aside she added, "I always loved that
play on words."
Beth ignored her growing arousal and smiled.
"So I told Jack about it a couple of months after my
mother died. I didn't really know what I wanted, or why
I told him," Susan said, distracted by her own
uncertainty, "but I knew I wanted what my parents had. I
wanted that same level of connection with Jack. He's a
good man, but he wasn't ready to settle down when I got
pregnant. Don't get me wrong... he's never cheated on
me. I know he likes to look, but he doesn't do anything
because that would be against his... code. Does that
make sense?"
Beth nodded. David was the same way.
"Still, I knew he wanted more. I make him happy, both in
bed and out, but..." She shrugged.
Beth felt her breath catch as she watched Susan's
breasts move.
Her own nipples ached with desire.
"I want more, too, I guess," Susan said at last. "No,
that's not true. I don't want more. I'd be content to
live the rest of my life with Jack and only Jack."
Beth felt the same way about David, but she understood
Susan's unspoken hunger.
"What I want is something different. Just for a little
while. I don't want to have an affair -- not any more
than Jack does -- but I want something... more." She
paused. "I'm afraid I'm not making sense."
Beth shook her head. "You're making perfect sense.
But..." She mustered her courage. "Why are you telling
me this?"
"I thought you knew," Susan said softly, warmly.
Beth swallowed hard. "I want to hear you say it," she
said at last.
Instead of answering, Susan smiled, her expression full
of desire. She caressed Beth's face. At her touch, Beth
felt a surge of current, her body tingling. Susan
smiled, her eyes tracing the line of Beth's jaw, down to
her throat and then to her chest.
Beth's nipples were stiff, and she could feel them
poking through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. Susan's
eyes drank her in.
She couldn't breathe. The silence lengthened, but she
didn't feel awkward. She felt warm all over, like a hot
bath, only ten times better. A hundred times. A
thousand!
"I've been looking for you all my life," Susan said
softly. "I didn't know I'd been looking until I found
you." She chuckled, warm and throaty. "And to think, you
walked into my life with a green bean casserole."
They shared a smile.
"I had no idea what hit me," she continued, her voice
barely above a whisper. "You were like a ton of bricks,
and you turned my life upside down."
Mine too!
Susan seemed to grow serious, her eyes focusing. "Jack
and I aren't swingers," she said softly. "Not yet, at
least. We hadn't found the right couple."
Beth drifted on a sea of anticipation.
Susan caressed her face again.
"Have you found the right couple yet?" Beth heard
herself ask.
"Mmm hmm."
The silence drew out and Beth gazed up at Susan. She
felt a wave of emotions, from fear to desire,
nervousness to excitement. Could she actually become a
swinger? Could she have sex with another man? Could she
watch David have sex with Susan?
Could she, would she, should she?
Something within her clicked, and she felt a certainty
she hadn't known since David asked her to marry him.
"What do we do now?" she said. Her heart sounded loud in
her own ears, and she felt her breathing grow shallow.
She focused on Susan's lips, watching them draw closer.
The seconds dragged into hours... days... years...
Beth closed her eyes and felt Susan's lips brush her
own. Pleasure exploded within her, spreading outward in
waves. Susan's lips were soft -- so soft -- her tongue
insistent. Susan moaned softly, and Beth tasted her
breath, hot and sweet.
The kiss seemed to last forever, timeless moments
stretching into a lifetime. When they finally separated,
Beth smiled and languidly opened her eyes.
"Oh, my," Susan said, her breathing heavier. "I've
wanted to do that for a long time."
Me too.
Susan kissed her again, tenderly.
When they broke the kiss, Beth opened her eyes and
smiled slowly.
"I like that," she said at last. "I like you."
Suddenly, Susan had to blink to clear her eyes.
"You'll have to show me what to do," Beth said softly,
"but--"
Susan silenced her with a kiss, hard and insistent.
Beth responded, senses afire with lust. Susan felt so
good against her, so soft and warm and inviting.
"Oh, God, I love you," Susan breathed at last, breaking
the kiss.
"I love you too," Beth said. She laughed softly, full of
wonder. "I've never said that to a woman."
Susan bent to kiss her again.
A moment later Beth gasped when she felt Susan's hand on
her pussy. Her fear turned to pleasure as Susan gently
rubbed, spreading her moisture. Her nipples ached, and
she wanted to take off her shirt, to feel her skin
against Susan's. But she didn't want to break the kiss.
She didn't want Susan to stop rubbing her pussy. She
didn't want any of it to end.
Beth shivered with desire as Susan kissed the hollow of
her neck and then down to her chest. Slowly, tenderly,
Susan planted a line of kisses between her breasts. Then
she slid her hands along Beth's sides, lifting the
shirt.
Beth moaned and arched her back when Susan kissed her
bare navel. Higher, and Susan gently sucked one of her
nipples. She didn't linger, though, not like David
would've.
At the thought of David, Beth felt a pang of guilt. Was
she cheating on him? Would he ever forgive her if he
found out? Would he--?
Susan kissed her way down Beth's body, her touch light
and confident.
Who cares what David thinks, Beth thought, wry and
defiant. He can have her when I'm done!
At a gentle pressure on her inner thigh, Beth spread her
legs. She moaned softly when she felt Susan's warm
breath on her pussy. Her chest heaved, and she felt her
stomach quiver in anticipation.
Unlike David, Susan was tender and slow. He could take
his time when he wanted to, but he usually wanted to
move on to something else, something involving his dick.
Susan's lips were strong and supple, and Beth groaned at
the sensations in her pussy. She reached down, exactly
as she would have done with David. She almost pulled
back in shock when she felt long hair instead of David's
bristly flattop. Then she laughed to herself, her
fingers twining through Susan's thick hair.
Susan sucked her clit again and Beth forgot all about
hair. She lifted her hips and tried to press her pussy
against Susan's mouth. Susan teased her, pulling back
and flicking her tongue over the little pearl.
Beth held her hips in the air. She wanted Susan's lips
on her clit again, but she could almost feel the other
woman grinning. Her insistent whimper turned into a gasp
as she got her wish.
Pleasure built within her, and she felt disconnected
from her body, as though she was floating on a sea of
warmth and delight. She lost track of time, the
sensations washing over her, surging, hot, and dreamy.
Eventually, she began to quiver with the need for
release. She had to bite her tongue to keep from crying
out. After all, she didn't want the men to burst into
the cabin to find out what was wrong.
Susan licked again, and Beth gripped the sheets with a
hiss.
The dam broke and emotion flooded her. Pleasure flowed
with it, almost unbearable, intense and hot. She closed
her eyes and silently screamed. Another wave struck her
and she felt herself floating again, borne by the
current of orgasm.
When she finally sank to the bed, her chest heaved with
the effort to breathe.
Susan crawled from between her legs and settled beside
her. They kissed, and Beth tasted herself on another
woman's lips for the first time.
She forgot about David.
She forgot about the rocking boat.
She even forgot to worry that she might be a "You know
what."
She forgot about everything that didn't matter.
David matters, she thought distractedly, but not right
now. Not with Susan in my arms. He'll understand, she
told herself. Later. And when he finds out he can have
her too...
She closed her eyes and smiled.
Later.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Susan stayed below most of the afternoon, and Jack
silently berated himself for not giving her Dramamine.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been seasick, so
he hadn't thought of it. Fortunately, Beth was taking
good care of her.
In the meantime, he and David steered the Nereid ever
southward. The wind picked up a few times and they
cruised on sails alone, but those times were few and far
between.
Susan looked pale when she eventually emerged from the
cabin, but she smiled when she saw him. He thought he
detected a hint of something else -- satisfaction?
excitement? -- but he couldn't be sure. Beth acted
strange as well, but he wrote it off to the stress of
caring for a sick friend.
While the women relaxed on the cockpit benches, David
fixed dinner. Jack chuckled to himself -- he never would
have imagined that David was such a good cook. His food
wouldn't win any awards, but everything tasted good.
When dinner was ready, he decided to heave to so they
could eat together. Susan's appetite hadn't returned,
but she tasted a bit of everything, and complimented
David on his cooking.
Afterward, they went up on deck to enjoy the evening.
Unfortunately, Dramamine made Susan drowsy, so Jack
turned the helm over to David and followed her below.
**
Beth pulled the blanket tighter around herself. The
night air was mild, but she wanted the blanket for
security more than warmth. She gazed up at the starry
sky. The entire bowl of heaven spread above her, deep
and dark and unfathomable. A few feet away, David stood
at the wheel, a quiet presence bathed by the soft glow
of the compass light.
She watched him for a few minutes, but she didn't really
see him. Instead, her thoughts were turned inward. She
didn't understand her own feelings, but a part of her
was convinced that she'd cheated on her husband. She had
cheated, in all truth. She wanted to tell him, but she
was scared. What if he got angry? What if he wanted her
to stop seeing Susan? What if...?
She wanted to swing with Susan and Jack, but she had too
many what-ifs floating through her head. She closed her
eyes and tried to relax. She wasn't worried about
getting pregnant -- she'd had her tubes tied, after all.
She wasn't worried about catching some disease, either -
- Susan and Jack were both clean.
So what am I worried about?
She snorted to herself at a sudden realization -- she
was worried that David wouldn't want to be a swinger.
But if he did, her cheating became a problem of timing,
rather than a betrayal. It was pure sophistry, but she
held onto it as though her life depended on it. Now she
simply had to convince David to shed his inhibitions.
No, not "inhibitions." He was very uninhibited, but
society had beaten a few notions into him -- first and
foremost, that he had to be faithful to his wife. But
what if the wife in question wanted him to have sex with
another woman?
Do you have an answer for that, society? she asked in
silent
defiance. After a moment she chuckled to herself. Yes,
it's called "swinging."
"David?" she said at last.
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever watched two women have sex?"
He snorted in surprise.
"Well, have you?"
"What makes you ask that?" he said, strangely calm.
She shrugged. "I'm just curious. I've heard about some
of the sex bars in the Philippines. All the wives have.
Most of the others say absurd things like, 'My husband
would never go to a place like that,' but all of us know
better."
He didn't respond.
"But, you know what?" she continued. "I've never said
anything like that. I know better. So does Susan. We're
not hypocrites like Mary Scarlatti or Phyllis Waulk."
"Well, Mary's not a hypocrite," David said. "Don doesn't
go to places like that."
"But Frank and the others do, don't they?"
"Terry Featherston doesn't."
"But you do." She made it a statement, not a question.
He didn't answer.
"And so does Jack."
Again, he kept silent.
"I don't mind," she said softly. "If you want to know
the truth, they sound like fun." She could see his
surprise in the light from the compass, and she started
to bristle. "I'm not a prude, you know."
"I didn't think you were," he replied evenly. "But those
clubs..."
After a moment she realized he wasn't going to continue.
"What about them?"
"They're not the place for a woman like you."
She almost snapped "What do you mean, 'a woman like
me'?" but she controlled herself. She didn't want to
sound waspish and put him on the defensive, but she
wasn't a nun in a cloister. She was a flesh-and-blood
woman, with all the usual desires.
"How so?" she asked instead, her voice carefully
neutral.
He shrugged. "The women there are..."
"Sluts?" she said. "Whores?"
"What's gotten into you, Beth?" he asked all of a
sudden.
"Nothing. I'm just curious."
"Well, can we talk about something else?"
"Why?"
"I don't know. This isn't something you should be
talking about."
"Why?" Now she did want to put him on the defensive.
"Because you think I don't know what kind of things go
on in those clubs? Or because you think I can't handle
it?"
"It's not that, sweetheart, it's--"
"So you think I can handle it?"
"Of course, but--"
"Then why not tell me about them? I'm curious. I want to
know. I know you went to them, and it doesn't bother me.
So why not tell me?"
He stood mute, hands gripping the wheel.
She rose from the bench and moved closer. "David, I'm
curious," she said, quiet and sincere. "I... I'm curious
because I'm excited."
His eyebrows shot up.
"I am," she said. "I want to know what it's like to
watch other people have sex."
"What?"
She nodded. "Call me crazy, but that gets me worked up."
She sensed his crumbling resolve. "What's it like?" she
asked, soft and eager.
He gazed over her head for a moment, as if plotting his
course. In a way, he was plotting his course. "It's not
what you think," he said at last. "It's... It's really
kind of seedy."
Despite herself, she frowned.
"The girls all look like they're bored. Like it's just a
job." He shrugged. "I guess it is just a job for them.
But they have to go on stage and perform for a bunch of
drunk guys waving dollar bills."
Her frown deepened. This wasn't at all what she thought
it would be like. "You mean they don't have sex with
each other?"
He shrugged, searching for words. "Not like you think.
Mostly, they do weird things like pop ping-pong balls
out of their pussies, or smoke cigarettes with them."
Suddenly, he laughed. "One girl could blow smoke rings
with hers." He shook his head in wonder. "I have no idea
how she learned that little trick."
Unexpectedly, Beth had a vision of Susan's shaved pussy
blowing a smoke ring. She snickered.
"Yeah," he said. "Weird, huh?"
She nodded.
He met her eyes. "Why do you really want to know? Surely
you don't want to hear stories about little brown -- "
He cleared his throat. "About bar girls."
She wondered what he'd been about to say, but she held
her curiosity. Instead, she said, "I want to know
because I think it's sexy for two women to... to have
sex."
His eyes widened.
"I do," she said simply.
He tried to brush off her comment. "You wouldn't like
watching these women."
"But what about other women?"
His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'other women'?"
"What... What if two women want to have sex... Two
American women.
Would you want to watch?"
"What's gotten into you, Beth?"
"Would you?" she pressed.
"How should I know? I've never seen two American women
have sex. Why are you asking all these questions?"
Tell him! She drew a deep breath, but then her resolve
died a quiet death. "I don't know," she said at last.
"Forget I said anything." It wasn't a good answer, but
she wasn't ready to reveal the truth. Not yet.
Good or not, her answer seemed to satisfy him. At least
I planted the seed, she thought. She moved closer to
him.
He put his arm around her and she held him tight,
comforted by the feel of his body. But then she noticed
something -- he hadn't relaxed. He was still coiled
tight, as if waiting for something. Maybe her answer
hadn't satisfied him at all. Maybe he was simply
relieved to have the conversation over.
She chuckled silently. It must have seemed like an
inquisition, since he didn't know what she was thinking.
He didn't know about her afternoon with Susan. He didn't
know about Susan's parents. He didn't know about any of
it.
But you'll know soon enough, she told him silently,
smiling up at him. You're going to be a swinger. You
just don't realize it yet.
**
Much to Beth's surprise, both Susan and Jack emerged
from the cabin for the morning watch. Warm light spilled
through the open hatchway, and Beth used it to check her
watch: 3:55AM.
"All that sleep yesterday afternoon," Susan said,
answering Beth's unspoken question.
"Do you feel all right?"
Susan nodded. Then she grinned at Jack. "I had a lovely
wake-up call."
Jack had the good grace to look abashed. To cover it, he
turned to business. "Anything to report?" he said to
David, who merely grinned.
"Quiet watch, Skipper," he said. "No traffic to report.
We steered a course of one four zero for five hours and"
-- he looked at his watch -- "twenty minutes."
"One four zero, aye," Jack said. "I'll take the helm."
"You have the helm," David said. "Oh, and one more
thing, Skipper."
Beth could see the mischief in his eyes, and she
wondered what he was up to.
"Yes?" Jack said.
"The Professor and Mary Ann wanted to know what time
breakfast will be served."
Beth burst into laughter, more at Jack's expression than
anything else.
"Get off my deck, Mr. Hughes," he growled.
David struggled to keep a straight face. "Aye, aye,
sir."
"And take her with you," Jack said, pointing at Beth.
"It's not her fault she married an incoherent,
insubordinate, inveterate joker."
"I'm not incoherent," David protested.
"You're insubordinate and inveterate."
"No excuse, sir."
Jack finally laughed. "What am I going to do with you?"
he said.
"What can you do?" David said dryly.
"Have a good night," Jack said, still chuckling. "You
too, Beth."
Beth smiled politely. Then she looked at David, who put
his arm around her and pulled her close. "You're
horrible," she said softly.
"No excuse, ma'am."
**
Beth opened her eyes for the tenth time. Or was it the
twentieth? She was horny, and she couldn't sleep. David
had the annoying ability most Navy men have: he could
fall asleep anywhere, anytime. She kicked off her sheet.
Susan or Jack could walk into the cabin at any moment,
but she liked the idea of them seeing her.
I like the idea of them doing more than that!
She closed her eyes and imagined the feeling of Susan's
lips on her own. The imaginary lips moved lower, to her
nipples, to her pussy. She spread her legs and pressed
her fingers to the base of her clit.
With a low moan, she imagined Susan between her legs.
Her mouth watered as she imagined sucking David at the
same time. She was so worked up that she came quickly,
shuddering with the force of a mini-orgasm.
When she relaxed and lay back, she sniffed her fingers.
She wondered what Susan would smell like, what she'd
taste like. What would it feel like to go down on her?
She grew hot at the thought, her orgasm doing little to
satisfy her desire.
She glanced over at David again. He was still sound
asleep, and she felt a stab of resentment. But then she
smiled. She was still horny, and she knew the perfect
way to wake him up.
She climbed out of bed and sank to her knees beside him.
Then she peeled back the sheet and grasped his flaccid
manhood. She started sucking, and he grew hard in her
mouth, mumbling something incoherent. Still half-asleep,
he put his hand on her head. She took him deep in her
throat, her lips nearly to the base of his shaft.
"Oh, baby," he said softly, "that's nice."
She answered by taking him deeper. When she pulled back,
she climbed onto the bunk, straddling him in a sixty-
nine. He reached around her hips to spread her open. She
didn't want him to come too soon, so she kissed his dick
instead of sucking it.
He licked her, and she moaned softly. He began licking
harder, more insistently. He was a sensitive lover, even
if he did rush sometimes. He was rougher than Susan, but
Beth was in a rougher mood herself. Simply getting off
wasn't enough -- she wanted to explode.
Pleasure built within her as David sucked her clit,
waggling his head side-to-side. Her muscles tensed and
she cried out wordlessly, her pussy vibrating as he
flicked his tongue over her clit.
She clutched him and bit her lip as waves of pleasure
erupted from deep within her. When the last wave passed,
she collapsed, panting from the force of her orgasm.
After several timeless minutes, she opened her eyes and
focused on his hard-on. He was leaking pre-come, and she
licked it off, savoring the salty-bitter taste. Then she
began sucking in earnest.
He came quickly, jets of semen gushing over her tongue
as she pumped him with her fist. When his orgasm
subsided, she turned around and settled beside him.
"That was nice," he said.
She could hear the sleep in his voice, but she wanted to
talk. She rubbed his chest. "David?"
"Hmm?"
"I meant what I said earlier."
"Yeah?"
"About two women having sex."
He stirred, but didn't come fully awake.
"I... I want to have sex with a woman."
"That's nice, sweetheart."
She felt her expression harden -- he wasn't paying
attention. She swallowed her frustration and turned bold
instead. "I want to have sex with Susan."
"I'm sure she'd like that."
Beth opened her mouth to say something tart, but she
felt him tense with full awareness.
"You want to what?" he said.
The moment of truth, she told herself wryly. "I want to
have sex with a woman." In for a penny, in for a pound.
"I want to have sex with... Susan."
He didn't say anything, but his silence spoke volumes.
"I'm not a... 'You know what' or anything," she said.
"Then why do you...?"
"I just do," she said. I already have, she added
silently, guilt making her cheeks burn.
"I don't understand."
"Neither do I," she said. "I wish I did. I wish..." She
sighed. "I was going to say, 'I wish I could change,'
but I don't. Not really." She paused again. "I like
Susan," she said at last. No, I love her. Aloud, she
said, "I know she feels the same about me."
"Sure, she likes you, but what makes you think--?"
"I know," Beth said flatly. "Besides, we've... talked
about it."
"'Talked about it'?"
"Yes. We talked a lot while you were on cruise." And
yesterday afternoon...
"Is that what this is about? You were lonely, and--?"
She sat up abruptly. "No, David, that's not what this is
about."
He started to reply but kept silent, his eyes asking a
hundred unspoken questions. He looked upset and
confused. He looked hurt. He looked lost.
Her expression softened. "I love you more than I'll ever
be able to tell you," she said. "I always will." She met
his gaze. "But I love Susan too. I tried to convince
myself that I didn't. I tried to change. I tried
everything I could think of. But I feel the way I feel.
Can you understand that?"
"I don't know," he said, with more honesty than she
expected.
Some of her defiance drained away.
"Do you still want to be with me?"
She huffed in frustration. "What is it with men? Why do
you think it's an either/or proposition? Just because I
love Susan doesn't mean I don't love you."
"But--"
"Will you listen? I love you, David. You're my husband.
You're the father of my children. You're the man I'm
going to spend the rest of my life with. But what makes
you think I can't love someone else?"
"I--"
"What makes you think I don't have room in my heart for
you and Susan?" she said. "I don't love Paul any less
because I love Erin too. Can't you see that? Can't you
see that I have enough love in my heart for all of you?"
He nodded calmly. Then he arched an eyebrow. "Now, are
you ready to listen?"
"Y-yes," she said, a bit startled by her own intensity.
"How'd you expect me to react?" he asked, still calm.
"You wake me up, we have sex, and then you tell me you
want to have sex with a woman? What was I supposed to
think?"
"I... I don't know."
"I'm sorry I panicked, but that's all it was. I know you
love me, and I know you have enough love for all of us."
He smiled wryly. "I didn't realize that would include
another woman, but I suppose I can get used to that...
eventually. At least it's not another man."
She shook her head.
"But why tell me?" he asked. "Why tell me at all?"
She started to answer, but then thought better of it.
"I'd never have known if you hadn't told me."
You're right about that, she thought wryly. He was a
smart man, but he didn't always see the big picture. "I
don't want to hide this from you," she said at last.
"And... And I guess I want you to be happy for me."
His eyebrows shot up. "You want me to what?"
She frowned affectionately. "You heard me. I want you to
be happy for me. I've fallen in love precisely twice in
my life. I think you know the first time..."
He nodded.
"And because I love you, I want to share the second
time."
He considered for a moment and then nodded. "Okay. I
suppose that's fair. But what do you want to do now?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "I hadn't thought that far
ahead."
He chuckled. "Of course not."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Calm down," he said. "It wasn't a dig."
"Then what was it?"
"Okay, maybe it was a dig, but I didn't mean it in a bad
way." He paused to gather his thoughts. "You're the
emotional one," he said slowly, "and I'm the logical
one. You act impulsively, while I think too much." He
shrugged. "That's just the way we are."
She nodded.
"But what I meant was, what do you want to do now? You
started this whole conversation with 'I want to have sex
with Susan.' Do you really?"
"Yes," she said softly. She felt him tense, so she
quickly added, "It's not like you think."
He looked a question at her.
"I don't want to sneak off and have sex with her."
Despite the fact that we've already done that. "I want
to do it while you're watching."
His eyebrows shot up.
"And maybe you could... I dunno... join in?"
"Join in?"
She rolled her eyes. "I know you want to. Don't pretend
you don't."
"Beth," he said seriously, "she's my best friend's wife.
I can't have sex with her, even if I wanted to."
"Oh, you want to," she said. "And that's okay. I do
too."
"But she's a fellow officer's wife. She's not some
secretary or waitress. I can't just say, 'Hey, baby,
howzabout you and me hop in the sack?' Besides, it's
against the law."
She scoffed. "It is not."
"It is too," he said calmly. "Maybe not for civilians,
but it sure as hell is illegal for me. I'm married, and
the military calls it 'adultery.'"
"I know what it's called," she said.
"It's against the UCMJ," he said flatly. "I could be
court- martialed."
She didn't have an answer, so she kept her mouth shut.
She hadn't thought about the Uniform Code of Military
Justice -- David and Jack literally had to live by a
different set of rules. She didn't know much about it,
but she didn't doubt him.
"Besides," David continued, "I'd never do that to Jack."
He shook his head in irritation at a sudden thought.
"What does he think about all this? Has Susan told him?"
Beth felt her face heat. "I don't know," she said.
He looked at her pointedly, and she heard his words in
her head, "You act impulsively..."
The pause drew out and he simply gazed up at her. Her
thoughts were still chaotic, so she laid her head on his
shoulder. The boat rocked gently as it glided through
the night, but still, neither of them spoke. A few
minutes later he looked at his watch.
"What time is it?" she asked softly.
"Oh five thirty."
"You need to get some sleep," she said.
"I also need to make sure my wife is happy."
"Your wife is happy," she said. "Confused, but happy."
He hugged her. "I'm a little confused too," he said, "so
you're in good company."
"Are you sorry I told you?"
He immediately shook his head. Then he drew a breath,
gathering his thoughts. "I like the idea of you and
Susan... you know," he said at last. "It's... sexy."
She reached down and felt for his manhood. He was hard,
and she stroked him gently.
"And you're right," he said, "I would like to have sex
with her, but I can't."
Beth wanted to tell him about swinging, but she knew
she'd already thrown too many revelations at him for one
night. "Well," she said instead, "you can have sex with
me."
He stroked her back.
"And if you're lucky," she teased, "I'll let you watch
Susan and me."
"Oh?" he said. A moment later he groaned in pleasure as
she straddled his hips and settled onto his erection.
"You can't stop me," she said at last, a little
breathless. "But you don't really want to."
"And why is that?"
"Because you want to watch."
"What about Jack?"
"He can watch too," she said, moving atop him slowly.
"No wonder you were asking about sex shows," he grunted.
"Mmm hmm. We'll give you a show."
He gripped her hips and thrust into her.
"But for now," she breathed, "this show is private."
He agreed with another thrust and she closed her eyes to
enjoy the ride.
**
Jack stood at the wheel and watched dawn creep into the
east. Susan dozed on the port cockpit bench, wrapped in
a blanket. He thought about waking her to watch the
sunrise, but decided against it.
The Nereid rocked gently, motoring through the long
Pacific swell at a steady six knots. The short cross-
seas were a memory, and Jack was looking forward to
smooth sailing.
Now, he thought, if only we can find some wind. He
touched the backstay and then smiled to himself. He
might not believe most sailor's superstitions, but some
couldn't hurt.
Still smiling, he checked the boat's heading and then
retrieved the portable solar shower. He filled the black
plastic bag with seawater and hoisted it six feet up the
mast, where it would catch the morning sun. The weather
report finally promised sunny skies and balmy
temperatures, and he was looking forward to the women
showering on deck.
I'm looking forward to more than that, he thought as he
returned to the cockpit. Susan had tantalized him with
details of her afternoon with Beth, and he was eager for
things to heat up. But she'd also said that she and Beth
would work things out between them. At that point it
would be Beth's job to convince David.
So Jack bided his time and simply enjoyed the quiet
morning. But his thoughts never strayed far from David
and Beth, and the promise of more.
Shortly after sunrise David emerged from the cabin, two
coffee mugs in hand. He quietly stepped past the still-
sleeping Susan and handed one to Jack. Then he glanced
at the sky, judging the weather.
"Looks like it'll be a nice day," Jack said quietly.
David nodded.
"Maybe we'll get a breeze later this morning. Lewis said
the winds from here to the south usually blow from
eleven hundred to twenty-three hundred."
David looked at his watch and then nodded.
"We'll probably motor the rest of the way to Turtle
Bay," Jack said, "but we should have good winds from
there to Santa Maria Bay, and then on to Cabo San
Lucas."
"It'll be nice to actually sail for a change," David
said, speaking at last.
Jack nodded. Then he gestured at the black bag of the
solar shower. "The girls should be happy to see that."
David followed his gaze and nodded.
"Showtime," Jack said simply, but then blinked as David
choked on his coffee.
**
Jack tried to look nonchalant as the women made ready to
shower on deck.
Susan flashed him a suggestive look, but composed
herself as David emerged from the cabin. She was up to
something.
"Will you remind us how the shower works, David?" she
asked.
"Um... sure."
Jack felt a momentary pang of jealousy as he watched his
wife flirt with another man, but he quickly mastered it.
He trusted Susan, and he understood what she was doing.
Besides, he couldn't complain about flirting, especially
since he wanted her to do even more.
After the shower "lesson," David came aft. He met Jack's
eye, but quickly looked away.
Oh, don't be so shy, Jack thought to his friend. She
wants you to fuck her. I want you to fuck her, for that
matter. He grinned in anticipation. And while you're
fucking her, I'll be fucking your wife. Simple, huh?
By the mast, Susan began to take off her clothes. David
busied himself re-coiling lines.
"Don't worry about them," Jack said to him.
David glanced up, mid-coil.
"They'll keep," Jack continued. Then he nodded forward,
toward the women. "And don't worry about them, either."
David looked a question at him.
"You know we're nudists, right?" Jack said, and received
a nod in reply. "Well, Susan's used to men looking at
her. I am too. Okay? She has a great body, and she'd
probably be offended if you didn't look.
"So don't worry about coiling the lines or tending to
the boat. And don't worry if you see Susan without her
clothes." He shrugged. "After all, we knew this was
coming when we first started talking about the trip,
much less when we bought the solar shower."
David reluctantly nodded.
"So relax," Jack said. "Enjoy the view." He grinned, a
mixture of nonchalance and confidence.
"I just don't want to... you know," David said at last.
"I don't wanna stare."
Jack laughed, genuine and friendly. "Don't worry about
staring.
Like I said, I think she'd be offended if you didn't."
David grinned guiltily.
"So be my guest," Jack said with a gesture. "Stare
away." He chuckled again. "After all, it's only fair."
David raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
"I plan on staring," Jack said.
As if he could read minds, David quickly glanced at
Beth.
"All's fair in love and war," Jack said.
"So, which is this?"
"Which do you think?"
"We've been to war," David said soberly.
"And this ain't it."
David shook his head, still solemn.
Jack kept his voice deliberately light: "Then it must be
love, and we might as well enjoy it."
David finally grinned, albeit sheepishly.
"Here," Jack said to him, "you take the wheel. The view
is better from here." He had to bite his tongue to keep
from laughing at David's expression.
Jack wasn't a manipulative person, but he wanted to
lighten David's mood, to convince him that it was okay
to look at Susan.
"I'll be right back," he said, and headed for the cabin.
He returned a minute later and handed David a black
case. "Use these," he said, and opened his own case.
**
Beth reached for the hem of her shirt. She was
unexpectedly nervous about shedding her clothes in front
of Jack. Still, the trip was about adventure. Besides,
if she and David became swingers, Jack would see her in
all her glory.
He'll do more than that, she thought wryly.
Susan suddenly burst out laughing, and Beth turned to
follow her gaze.
The men were standing in the cockpit, twenty-five or
thirty feet away, using binoculars. The big lenses were
pools of darkness, which made them look like bugs.
Despite her shock, Beth laughed.
"How's the view?" Susan called brazenly.
"Fine, thanks," Jack said. He didn't lower the
binoculars, but he nudged David, as if to say "That's my
wife."
Susan began to vamp for them.
Beth felt a rush of excitement as she grasped the hem of
her T- shirt and drew it over her head. She wasn't
wearing a bra, and her breasts swung free as she tossed
the shirt aside. She was proud of her chest, so she
cupped her breasts and made a seductive moue.
Jack hooted like a frat boy at a party, and David
quickly joined in.
Beth wanted them to see her legs, so she turned her back
to them. Her pulse raced as she unfastened her shorts
and hooked her thumbs in the waistband. Then she bent
over and slid the denim cut-offs over her hips.
Too late, she realized she was giving them more of a
show than she intended. Her face grew hot and she
quickly straightened. Behind her, the men cheered even
louder.
"So much for being demure," Susan teased, grinning.
Beth's face turned redder still. "I didn't mean to moon
them like that."
Susan arched an eyebrow.
"I didn't," Beth insisted.
"In that case," Susan said, "let's really give them
something to cheer about." With that, she opened the
shower nozzle. Then she pulled Beth under the stream.
The water wasn't exactly hot, but it was better than the
shower in the cabin.
Beth closed her eyes and wet her hair, the warm water
running down her body. Then she moved back and wiped her
eyes.
Instead of stepping under the spray, Susan turned off
the nozzle and reached for the soap. "I'll wash your
hair," she said.
Beth nodded and turned her back. The men were still
watching through the binoculars, although they looked
less comic and more captivated. She spent a delicious
moment enjoying their hungry stares. Then she closed her
eyes as Susan gently lathered her hair.
"I'll wash the rest of you, too," Susan whispered in her
ear, soft and seductive.
Beth felt herself nod. Then she swallowed hard. Susan's
first touch sent an electric tingle through her, and she
tried to forget that the men were watching. No, she told
herself. I want them to watch.
Susan's hands moved lower, but she wasn't simply washing
Beth, she was caressing her. Beth moaned softly as
Susan's hands moved lower still, to her butt and legs.
She felt faint, and gripped the mast to steady herself.
Susan finished and stood. "Now," she said, "let me wash
the front."
Beth started to turn, but Susan stopped her. Desire made
her shiver as she waited for the coming touch. She
almost cried out when she felt Susan's hands on her
shoulders, her arms, her breasts.
Thud!
Beth's eyes snapped open and she followed the sound to
the back of the boat.
Jack was holding back laughter, and David was bent over.
He straightened, gripping his dropped binoculars and
looking chagrined.
Susan chuckled, low and mischievous. "Just think what
he'll do when he sees the rest of the show."
Beth closed her eyes and fought to remain standing. The
next minutes passed in a blur of soapy caresses, and she
felt an extra thrill knowing that the men were watching.
"Are you ready to rinse?" Susan said at last.
Beth sighed. "I'm ready to melt."
"I think Jack and David are ready to pound nails."
Beth opened her eyes and glanced back at the men. They'd
lowered the binoculars and were trying to look relaxed,
but they were both watching like hawks. She smiled to
herself and stepped under the shower stream.
Beth's stomach fluttered, but she asked, "Do you want me
to do you?"
"I'd like that very much," Susan said with a smile as
she stepped under the shower. Her skin glistened in the
sun as the water ran over her.
Beth lathered the soap in trembling hands. She felt a
nervous thrill as she washed Susan's hair. Then she
moved lower and closed her eyes, working by feel alone.
Oh, but the feel!
Her soapy hands slid over Susan's smooth skin, and her
imagination filled in the details. Finally, she knelt on
the deck and mustered the courage to open her eyes.
Susan's body was shiny with soap suds, and Beth
swallowed hard. The men were still watching, but she
ignored them.
"Ready for the front?" Beth asked, more for herself than
Susan.
"Sure."
Her breathing grew ragged, her chest tight with anxiety.
She swallowed again, the smell of the soap sharp in her
nostrils.
Susan turned. "It's okay," she said softly, gazing down,
"you
don't ha -- "
Beth began washing her feet. As though someone else were
controlling her, she moved her hands higher. Once again,
she worked by feel alone. She wanted to look, but she
couldn't bring herself to. Her soapy fingers did the
work of her eyes, until she reached the top of Susan's
thighs.
"Oh, my," Susan breathed.
Beth swallowed hard and began washing Susan's hairless
pussy. She didn't linger, though. She told herself it
was because she didn't want to get soap inside Susan,
but she knew better.
Her heart raced with a combination of nervousness and
desire as she worked higher. She stopped when her
fingers brushed the smooth curve of a breast.
"Nice, huh?" Susan said.
Beth swallowed hard. "Th-they're very nice," she said at
last.
"No," Susan said, shaking her head, "I mean it's nice to
touch another woman."
Beth felt her face flush as she quickly looked away.
"Let me rinse off and then we can go below," Susan said,
her voice soft and suggestive and oh-so-reasonable.
**
Beth stepped into the regular shower and tensed for the
onslaught of cold water. She gasped as it struck her,
but she pumped again, rinsing the salt from her hair and
body.
"Keep pumping," Susan said as she crowded into the small
space.
Beth pressed herself against the wall, but the area was
too small to avoid contact. Besides, Susan was warm.
"Jack would be proud of us," she joked, "saving water
like this."
Beth snorted. Then she closed her eyes and fought not to
sigh. Susan's nipples were stiff from the cold, and Beth
could feel them pressing into the soft flesh of her own
breasts.
"Here," Susan said, "I'll pump for a moment."
Beth forgot about the cold water and concentrated on the
feeling of Susan's thigh between her own. Can she feel
how hot I am? How wet?
Susan started to say something. Beth silenced her with a
kiss. She didn't remember deciding to do it, but she
didn't pull away when she realized what she was doing.
Susan stopped pumping and the stream of cold water
trickled to a stop.
Beth wrapped her arms around Susan and pulled her close.
Her body was warm and soft, and Beth felt herself begin
to drift. But then something within her clicked, and she
slowly sank to her knees.
She spent a moment simply gazing at the perfection of
Susan's hairless pussy. She could see every goose bump,
every jewel-like drop of water. She leaned forward and
planted a kiss on her stomach, the tip of her nose
pressed into the soft flesh.
Susan moaned softly and put her hands on Beth's head.
Emboldened, Beth planted another kiss, lower. Susan let
out a gasp of pleasure. She lifted one foot to the lid
of the commode. Her pussy spread slightly, revealing
tender pink folds.
Beth wondered if her own pussy looked the same. Almost
idly, she ran her fingertip along the inner lips,
parting them gently. Her finger came away damp, and she
gazed at it for a moment.
She'd tasted her own pussy before, on David's dick or on
her own fingers, but she still wondered if Susan would
taste the same. She drew a deep breath and flicked her
tongue over the tip of her finger. The taste was clean
and fresh, tangy, a little metallic, with an undertone
of something sharp.
She kissed Susan's mons again and used the time to
ponder what she was about to do. She knew she wasn't a
lesbian -- There! I said it! -- but she was about to do
something most women never did.
Her nostrils flared as she caught a whiff of Susan's
arousal. The scent was the same as the taste, and she
felt her head swim with desire. Almost without thinking,
she leaned forward and flicked her tongue over the
fleshy inner lips.
Susan shuddered and let out a small moan.
Beth smiled to herself and licked again, the taste of
another woman filling her with a sense of urgency. She
began licking in earnest, using her fingers to spread
Susan open. The world around her faded away and she
concentrated on the soft pink folds.
She didn't know how long she licked, but Susan
eventually began to rock her hips. Beth sucked her clit,
swirling her tongue around it like David did to her.
Susan shuddered and Beth felt a gush of moisture around
her fingers. Then she tasted it, the flavor filling her
mouth and making her tongue tingle.
She thrust a finger inside Susan and felt her pussy
clench. She added another finger and kept flicking her
tongue over Susan's clit. She was acting on instinct --
doing what she liked, and what she thought Susan would
like.
A moment later Susan cried out softly. Her release came
with a flood of heat and moisture, and Beth shoved her
fingers as deep as she could. Susan bucked her hips and
cried out, shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Then
she seemed to collapse against the wall.
Beth pulled back, her lips wet with Susan's juices.
"Oh, my," Susan panted.
Beth looked up, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "I did
all right?"
Susan snorted softly, her chest still heaving from the
force of her orgasm.
Beth stood and pressed herself against Susan, their
breasts flattening together. She kissed her, tender and
lingering. When she drew back, she was breathing a
little heavier. She didn't speak. Susan didn't either.
Instead, Beth simply gazed at the woman in her arms --
her friend, her lover. She rolled the word around in her
mind, and a smile crept over her lips.
"Lover," she thought again. I like the sound of that.
**
Jack stood at the wheel and gazed over the Nereid's
clean white deck. Susan and Beth had been sunbathing --
nude, of course -- since lunchtime. He knew they'd been
up to something earlier -- why else had they taken so
long in the head? -- but Susan hadn't had a chance to
tell him about it.
Judging by her glow of delight when she and Beth finally
emerged from the cabin, he had a pretty good idea what
she'd eventually tell him. His imagination was already
supplying plenty of details.
A puff of wind snapped him from his fantasy. He craned
his neck, eyes searching for signs of the breeze. The
sea was ruffled to the west, and he could actually see
the leading edge of the wind as it moved toward them.
He glanced at David, who was lounging in the forward
cockpit with a spy novel. The poor man had done
everything he could to avoid looking at Susan.
Jack, on the other hand, had gotten more than an eyeful
of Beth's curvy figure. He tried not to stare openly,
but he didn't miss a chance to look at her when no one
was watching. He liked what he saw, from her full
breasts to her round ass. He wanted to let his
imagination wander, but thoughts of the approaching wind
stopped him.
"Wind on the starboard quarter," he called. As if on
cue, the breeze reached the boat. To David, he said,
"Jump to the mast while I turn us into the wind. We'll
set the main and then bear away to port."
"Set the main and bear away to port, aye," David said
automatically. He stood, but then stopped abruptly.
Jack chuckled to himself -- he'd just ordered the man
forward, to where the women were sunbathing.
David stood a moment longer, indecision making him
tense. Then he seemed to shake himself, and headed
forward without a word.
They raised the mainsail, bore away, and hoisted the
jib. David stayed by the jib sheets after he trimmed the
sail. Jack grasped the wheel and settled the Nereid onto
a broad starboard reach. They could run all afternoon
with the wind on the quarter, and should fetch Turtle
Bay with sails alone if the wind held.
David returned to the cockpit and quickly picked up his
book.
Jack realized that he was using it as cover. Soon
enough, my friend, he thought. Soon enough, you'll have
someplace to bury that hard-on. Someplace hot and wet
and shaved.
**
They arrived at Turtle Bay shortly after five o'clock. A
pair of rusty steel shrimp boats lay half-submerged in
the outer harbor, and Jack cautiously steered past them.
"Hey, girls," he called forward, "time to get dressed."
He didn't plan to go anywhere near the docks themselves,
much less the working shrimp trawlers dotting the inner
harbor, but he still wanted to be cautious. The locals
were mostly Catholic, and he didn't need trouble with
the Mexican authorities.
Susan and Beth trooped past, brown from the sun and
shiny with cocoa butter. Jack watched them openly, but
David pretended to mark the page in his book.
"Oh, relax," Jack half-snapped when the women were out
of earshot below.
David looked up and blinked.
"For Christ's sake, man," Jack said, "what do I have to
do to let you know it's okay to look at my wife?"
"Sorry," David said at last. "Was I that obvious?"
Jack pantomimed burying his nose in a book.
David looked sheepish.
"Look!" Jack told him, throwing his hands in the air.
"Look all you like. Stare. Gape. Gawk." He shook his
head, friendly and cajoling. "Why do you think she's
such a tease? She wants you to look. Jeez, so do I."
"Roger," David said.
Jack changed the subject. "Let's drop anchor and get the
dinghy in the water."
"Aye, aye, Skipper," David said, his grin returning.
Jack rolled his eyes. But then he had a thought. "You
know," he said, "if I were stranded on a desert island
with girls like Ginger and Mary Ann..."
"Yeah?"
"I'd sleep with 'em both."
David barked a short laugh.
"Think about it," Jack said.
David's smile turned into a puzzled look.
Jack wanted to roll his eyes -- How dense can he be? --
but glanced pointedly at the cabin instead.
David's eyebrows shot up.
"Yeah," Jack said slowly, watching the light of
comprehension finally dawn.
**
Jack and David spent nearly two hours in the dinghy,
running back and forth to the dock. They had rented --
for a dollar each! -- four reasonably clean jerry cans.
When filled with fresh water, each five-gallon can
weighed nearly fifty pounds, and had to be manhandled
aboard the boat. But with each trip, they slowly
refilled the Nereid's water tanks.
Much to Jack's surprise, they'd used nearly sixty
gallons of fresh water in four days. He thought about
lecturing the women on water usage, but decided against
it. Fortunately, they watched as he and David wrestled
the cans aboard, so they saw how much effort was
involved in refilling the tanks.
It was full dark by the time they finished. The old
shrimper who'd rented them the cans had also sold them
five pounds of fresh shrimp. The scoundrel had charged
an arm and a leg for the jerry cans, but sold the shrimp
for fifty cents a pound. He even threw in a fifty-pound
block of ice.
Once Jack and David returned to the Nereid, they
remained in the dinghy, drifting under the sailboat's
stern. By the light of a kerosene lantern, they cleaned
the shrimp, tossing the heads and shells into the water.
When they were done, they stank of shrimp and ached all
over. Tired as they were, they still made wisecracks as
they took a quick, cold shower on deck. Then they went
below to rinse off the salt, using gallons of the
precious water they'd just brought aboard.
While the women fixed dinner, Jack mixed a big pitcher
of red wine sangria, adding orange and lemon slices, as
well as a healthy dose of brandy. Finally, they sat down
to eat, with the smell of marinara sauce and garlic
filling the cabin.
The food was delicious, and Jack had two helpings of
pasta. He even scooped extra shrimp out of the sauce
pot. David did the same, grinning as he scavenged the
remaining shrimp. When they finally pushed their plates
away, Jack mixed another batch of sangria.
"To good friends and smooth sailing," he said, holding
his glass aloft. "May they always go hand in hand."
"Hear, hear!"
By the time they finished the second pitcher, Susan and
Beth were feeling no pain. David was far from buzzed,
but he definitely looked relaxed.
"Let's go up on deck," Jack said. "I'll make another
pitcher of sangria."
"You do that, Jack," Beth said.
"Oh, cabana boy!" Susan teased, holding up her empty
glass.
David merely shook his head at their antics as he
followed them up the steps.
In the relative quiet left in their wake, Jack poured
another bottle of wine into the pitcher and then added
7-Up. He whistled quietly as he sliced the orange and
lemon. With a flourish, he added sugar and a shot of
brandy.
He wasn't drunk -- not even close -- but the warmth of
the alcohol had spread through him, and he wanted to
share the feeling with the others. That meant more
alcohol, so he added another shot of brandy. He closed
his eyes and tasted his concoction.
Perfect!
On deck, he poured refills and then sat beside Susan.
She wriggled under his arm and he put his feet on the
bench opposite him.
"Oh, God," he said, "this is the life."
"Amen, brother," David said.
"We should buy some shrimp before we leave tomorrow,"
Jack said. "And we can buy lobster from the locals the
next day."
"Will we be in Santa Maria Bay then?" Beth asked.
Jack nodded. "We should get there about noon."
Beth looked confused for a moment. "What day is it
today?"
"Wednesday," David said.
She laughed. "We've been gone four days, and already
I've forgotten what day it is."
"It's easy to do," Jack said, raising his glass in
salute.
They drank and then lapsed into a companionable silence.
The lights from the dock twinkled in the distance, along
with the running lights of a few boats heading out for
night fishing. The bay was calm and the tide was on the
ebb. They'd leave with the tide in the morning, and Jack
silently planned everything he'd need to do before their
departure.
"I can't wait to get to Santa Maria Bay," Beth said,
breaking his train of thought.
"Mmm, me too," Susan said.
"Nothing to do but relax," Beth continued, her eyes
closed.
"Oh," Susan said, "I can think of a few more things to
do."
Beth's eyes snapped open.
Even in the semi-darkness of the cockpit, Jack could
tell that she was blushing. He almost jumped as Susan
playfully slapped him on the thigh.
"We can get these guys out of their pants, for one," she
said.
David shifted nervously.
"It's not that hard," Jack said, grinning at his double
entendre.
"All you have to do is ask."
"Is that all?" Susan said sweetly. Then she glanced at
David. "Somehow, I don't think it'll be that easy with
him."
Beth sat up and made an exaggerated gesture. "That's
because he's afraid to let you see his hard-on."
David goggled.
"It's a nice hard-on, though," she continued. "He's just
shy."
"I am not," he said.
"Oh, you are too, you big sourpuss."
"Am not."
"Then prove it," Beth shot back.
"Huh?"
"Take your shorts off, big boy," she said.
Jack felt Susan tense with anticipation.
"I don't need to take off my shorts to prove I'm not
shy," David said.
"I'll take mine off if you take yours off," Beth said.
"Me too," Susan added.
"And Jack will too," Beth said. "Won't you?"
"Sure," Jack said, shrugging as indifferently as he
could. In reality, he was practically burning with
eagerness.
"Is there any more sangria?" David asked.
"Oh, no," Beth said, "you're not getting off that easy."
"Actually," Susan said, "I think we could get him off
pretty easy..."
David's jaw fell.
Susan giggled and then looked at Beth. "C'mon, let's
give him some incentive."
With that, she stood and began shedding her clothes.
Beth stood, a bit unsteadily, and Jack realized that she
was more tipsy than he'd thought.
David flashed him a pleading look.
Jack shrugged. "When in Rome..." he said, standing as he
unbuttoned his shorts.
"That's the spirit," Susan said.
"C'mon, David," Beth wheedled, tossing her blouse aside.
Jack felt his dick swell. He wasn't in danger of
sporting an erection any time soon, but he'd have to
keep his thoughts in check. He finished taking off his
clothes and sat down.
David was the only one still dressed. "Oh, all right,"
he said at last, sounding harassed.
Susan and Beth clapped and cheered.
"We're all friends here," Jack said, hoping to ease his
friend's conscience.
"But I thought you wanted to be more than friends," Beth
said.
Jack felt his eyes widen. She must've drunk even more
than he'd thought. Still, he wasn't about to complain.
Just then, David lowered his shorts and Susan stiffened.
Jack followed her gaze and felt his own jaw sag. David
was only half-hard, but his dick was as long as Jack on
his best day. He'd seen other guys with big dicks -- in
the showers at boarding school or the Citadel -- but few
as big as David.
"Oh, my," Susan said quietly.
David kicked his shorts aside and sat down quickly.
Susan remembered herself and tried to look nonchalant.
Jack merely grinned. He didn't need size when he had
technique. Besides, he'd seen a lot of guys who were
smaller than he. Still, he was a bit surprised at
David's length. To cover his reaction, he reached for
his drink and raised it.
"Here's to being nudists," he said.
The others raised their glasses and drank, but David
emptied his in one long gulp. Then he held it out for a
refill.
"Relax," Jack said as he poured. "Being a nudist is a
piece of cake."
In spite of his nervousness, David laughed.
"Just get your head out of the cockpit." He grinned. "Or
wherever else you have it stuck..."
The girls giggled.
"...and do what comes natural."
"Yeah, honey," Beth said, resting her hand on David's
thigh, "just do what comes natural."
"Just go with the flow, David," Jack said. "We have
beautiful wives" -- he silently toasted them -- "who are
nude and half-drunk..."
"We're not half-drunk," Susan protested.
"More like three-quarters," Beth said.
"Exactly!"
"As I was saying," Jack continued, "we have beautiful
wives, who are nude and half drunk. We're in the middle
of nowhere, with nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. What
could be better?"
"I guess you're right," David said.
"Of course I'm right," Jack said. "Would I lie to you?"
David grinned, sheepish at first, but with growing ease.
"Besides," Beth added, "if we're going to be swingers,
Susan's going to see your hard-on sooner or later."
"What?" David choked out.
Beth suddenly realized what she'd said.
Susan merely giggled.
Jack grew tense, waiting for David's follow-up outburst.
"What do you mean?" he asked instead.
"Nothing," Beth said meekly.
"No," David pressed, "you said, 'If we're going to be
swingers...' What's that supposed to mean?"
Her mouth worked silently.
Jack felt the situation going pear-shaped, so he decided
to do something about it. Susan might want to work
things out with Beth first, but he was tired of staying
in the background. He didn't like letting others lead
the way.
"Susan and I want to become swingers," he said.
David's head snapped around.
Jack didn't flinch from the intensity of his gaze. "But
we can't do it by ourselves," he said calmly, "so we've
been looking for the right people for almost two years
now."
David's eyebrows shot up again.
"When we met you last year," Jack continued, "we were
pretty sure we'd met the right people. You and I got
along well, and so did Susan and Beth."
Susan nodded in agreement.
Beth merely looked shell-shocked.
"But then we went to Vietnam," Jack said, "and we had to
put our plans on hold. When we returned, Susan and I
talked about it, and we decided that you and Beth are
the right couple. That's part of what this trip is
about."
"You mean you..." David began.
Jack nodded. "We're not going to force you or anything,"
he said. "We just wanted to get away from the world, to
spend some time with you... alone."
Susan nodded again.
"If you're not the right couple, then you're not the
right couple," Jack said. "You're still our best
friends, and we don't want to change that. But we
thought..." He paused and simply shrugged. He and David
gazed at each other for a long moment. Then Jack drew
himself up. "I know you want to have sex with Susan."
David started to deny it.
Jack cut him off. "Oh, don't be an idiot. I've known
since that time on the beach after..."
"After Keith was killed," David finished softly.
Jack swallowed hard and then nodded.
"Yeah," David said quietly, "I thought you knew." He
shrugged. "I thought if I..." Another shrug. "You know,
if I pretended nothing happened..."
"I knew," Jack said softly.
"And you're not upset?"
Jack barked a laugh. "Are you kidding? I want you to
have sex with her. I've been trying to tell you that for
days."
"The Ginger and Mary Ann thing?" David said.
"That's affirmative."
"What Ginger and Mary Ann thing?" Susan asked, puzzled.
"I'll tell you later," Jack said. Then he turned back to
David. "Listen, if you don't want to be a swinger,
that's fine. But Susan and I do, and I'm pretty sure
Beth does too..." He was positive she did, but he
couldn't say that.
David looked at his wife. She nodded jerkily, and his
eyes widened.
"I do," she said, almost defiantly. Then she quailed. "I
want to try it, at least."
"Not everyone's cut out for it," Jack said into the
silence. "Susan's told me a lot about it, about how some
people can't handle seeing their husband or wife with
someone else." He shrugged. "I don't know if I'm one of
those people or not, but I think I can handle it, so I'm
willing to give it a shot. Susan is too. You're our best
friends, so we thought..."
The silence grew heavy, with three people waiting
tensely for the fourth.
"What...?" David began. He cleared his throat. "What
exactly are you talking about when you say 'swinging'?"
Jack wanted to burst into a smile, but he controlled
himself and looked serious instead.
"Jack wants to have sex with Beth," Susan said before he
could speak. "And I want to have sex with you..."
David's eyes widened at her frank admission.
"I do," she said, shrugging. "I've wanted to since the
first night we met. And now" -- she gestured at him,
which made his dick twitch -- "I'm ready to jump your
bones."
David avoided her gaze and turned to Jack. "That doesn't
bother you?"
Jack didn't hesitate: "Not a bit." He paused to let his
words sink in. "I know she loves me. Besides, I want her
to enjoy herself." He shrugged. "Susan can probably
explain it better, but..."
"That's plain enough," David said. Then he paused to
consider. "Let me see if I have this right..." he said
at last.
Jack looked him square in the eye.
"You want to have sex with my wife."
Jack nodded.
"And you want me to have sex with your wife."
"You got it," he said. "But that's all we're talking
about here.
No love, just sex."
David blew a long breath and sat back. "What about the
girls?" he said after a moment.
"What about them?" Jack said. "They--"
Susan put her hand on his knee. "He means 'What about
the two of us together?'" she said.
"Oh."
She turned and smiled at David. "Beth and I love each
other," she said simply. "Beth's already told you,
though. So you know how she feels."
David nodded.
"But our relationship is different," Susan continued.
"We're more like... sisters. I'll never come between you
and Beth, and Beth will never come between Jack and me.
But..." She drew herself up. "But we do love each other.
Sex between us will be... more."
"A lot more," Beth said quietly. Then she turned to face
David. "Do you still think it's okay? Susan and me, I
mean?"
He laughed ironically. "Yeah," he said at last, "I do."
He took a deep breath. "I must be crazy, too." He
laughed again. "I've said it's okay for my wife to have
sex with another woman, and I'm seriously thinking about
letting her have sex with another man." He shook his
head. "Good God, if you'd told me this last week, I'd've
told you that you were crazy."
"When in Rome..." Jack said.
"Did they do this in Rome?" David asked sardonically.
Jack laughed. "No. In Rome, you and I would fall in
love, and our wives would be sleeping with the stable
boys."
They all laughed, a much-needed release of tension. When
the laughter died down, Jack gazed at his friend. He
knew how David worked -- he'd need to think things
through -- so he discreetly touched Susan on the leg.
She looked at him and read his thoughts.
"I need to visit the powder room," she said. "Do you
need to go, Beth?"
Beth almost leapt to her feet. Jack had to stifle a
surge of desire at how her breasts swayed. Fortunately,
she kissed David and quickly followed Susan below.
David leaned forward before the women were even out of
earshot.
"Are you out of your mind, Jack?"
"No."
"We could be court-martialed."
Jack made a show of looking around, as if searching for
someone. "I don't see any JAG lawyers out here. Do you?"
"That's beside the point."
Jack sobered. "No, it's not. What we do in our bedrooms
is none of the military's business." He made a chopping
motion. "None."
"But--"
"David," he said, cutting him off, "if we do this, we're
hardly going to announce it in the squadron ready room.
It's between the four of us. That's it. Period. End of
story. Got it?"
"Yeah, but still..." He shook his head uncertainly.
"Just think about it," Jack said, his voice calm,
persuasive. "You don't have to decide right now. It took
me a while to realize what I wanted, and even longer to
convince myself to do it. If nothing happens on this
trip, we'll still have fun. You are my best friend, no
matter what. Swingers or not, you and I..." His chest
grew tight.
"'We few...'" David said.
Jack blinked stinging eyes.
"Yeah, we've been through a lot," David finished. He
took a deep breath, but then chuckled darkly.
"What?" Jack said.
"I used to envy you," David said quietly.
"Why?"
"Susan." He paused to gather his thoughts. "She's so...
beautiful, and charming, and elegant, and..." He
shrugged. "Well, you know."
Jack nodded. "So is Beth."
"Oh, I know," David said quickly. "Don't get me wrong...
I know how lucky I am, but..."
"The grass is always greener..." Jack said.
David met his eyes and nodded.
"Well, here's your chance to play on my lawn and then go
home to your own."
"No kidding."
But I get to play on your lawn, too, Jack thought.
"Let me think about it," David said at last. "And let me
talk to Beth." He barked a laugh, heavy with irony. "I
already know what she'll say, though."
"It's not worth doing if you don't think you'll be able
to handle it," Jack said.
"Oh, I think I can handle it," David said absently. "I
just don't know if I'll be able to put the genie back in
the bottle. You know?"
"David," Jack said, "this isn't a one-time thing. If we
wanted a weekend fling, we could find a couple we didn't
know... and didn't care about."
David looked up.
"To hear Susan talk about it, swinging will change your
life. If you can handle it, it'll make your marriage
stronger."
"That's a pretty big if."
"Yeah, it is. We won't know till we actually try it,
but..."
"So you're not talking about just this trip?"
Jack shook his head. "No need to put the genie back in
the bottle."
David laughed softly. Then he fell silent, deep in
thought. "Let me talk to Beth," he said at last.
Jack nodded.
The women emerged from the cabin, as though they'd been
listening for their cue.
Jack laughed to himself. They probably had been
listening.
"Sorry we took so long," Susan said. "We had girl talk."
"Plenty of guy talk happening up here," Jack said,
glancing at David.
"Did you decide anything?" Susan asked.
Beth settled quietly beside her husband. She searched
his face for clues to his mood. He looked at her and
then put his arm around her. She seemed to sigh with
relief.
"I want to talk to Beth about it," David said.
Susan nodded judiciously.
"I already know what she'll say," he continued, "but
still... I think we should talk about it before we make
any decision."
Susan nodded again and they fell silent.
When the silence threatened to grow oppressive, Jack
lifted the pitcher. "Who's ready for another drink?" he
said, louder than he meant to.
"Not me," Beth said immediately. "I've had enough."
Susan shook her head. Jack looked at David.
"I think we're going to bed," he said. He stood, and
Beth rose as well.
"Well, goodnight then," Jack said. Some impulse made him
stand and extend his hand. David shook it. Their eyes
met and they shared a silent look.
"Goodnight," David said at last, and nodded to Susan.
Then he and Beth went below.
Jack poured himself another drink and sank back to the
bench. Susan settled beside him, with her legs tucked
beneath her. The night was beginning to turn cool, and
her warm skin felt good against him. They sat in silence
for several minutes.
"What do you think he'll decide?" she said at last.
Jack held up his hand and listened. His hearing was
better than hers, and he could easily sort the nautical
sounds from the others. He grinned when he heard what he
was listening for.
"What?" Susan asked impatiently.
"Listen," he half-whispered.
She concentrated. Soon enough, she heard the sounds of
David and Beth having sex.
He grinned smugly. "Does that sound like a couple who's
arguing about what they want to do?"
Susan shook her head.
"I don't think so either. Now," he said, moving her hand
to his dick, "how'd you like to fool around while we
listen to the sounds of our new swinging partners?"
"Mmm, sounds nice."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jack rose quietly and slipped into a T-shirt and shorts.
He found David making coffee in the galley, the
percolator gurgling cheerfully on the stove.
"Mornin'," Jack said.
David nodded in reply.
When the coffee finished brewing, they took their mugs
on deck. They made small talk for a few minutes, but
then Jack turned the conversation to the night before.
"So," he said, "did you and Beth do any talking amidst
all that, ahem, 'talking' last night?"
David laughed at the euphemism, but shook his head. "I
know how she feels, though," he said. "She wants to do
it."
"But what do you think?"
"I want to do it too," David said, more forthright than
Jack expected, "but I guess I'm worried about how I'll
handle it. I mean, we're basically talking about
watching our wives have sex with another man."
Jack nodded silently.
"I love Beth, and I trust her," David said, "but..." He
shrugged. "I never really thought about it before, I
guess." He paused, deep in thought. "I was her first,
you know."
Jack knew, but he didn't want to betray Susan's
confidence. "I figured," he said aloud.
"Were you Susan's?"
"Good God, no," Jack blurted, but then composed himself.
"No, she had a boyfriend before me. He introduced her to
swinging." He turned sarcastic: "He was a real
gentleman. He had her screwing other guys when she was
sixteen. Like I said, a real gentleman."
"But isn't that what you're talking about doing now? The
other guys, I mean."
Jack blinked. "Well... yeah, but... this is different."
"How?"
"It's... different. I dunno. It just is."
David arched an eyebrow.
"I love Susan," Jack said, hating the sound of weakness
in his voice. "I'd never do anything to hurt her."
"What if her first boyfriend felt the same way?"
Jack started to reply but then fell silent. "I guess
it's different with me," he said, but he heard the
emptiness of his own words. He could usually trust his
wits to win a debate, but David had a point.
"You're probably right," David said after a moment, but
it was a friendly concession.
"I may not be as introspective as you," Jack said at
last, "but I have thought about this. I'm not doing it
because I want to screw around on my wife, or because I
don't care who screws around with her."
"I'm not saying you are."
"I used to think I was a bad husband," Jack said. "I
used to think something was wrong with me. But then
Susan and I talked about it -- about her parents -- and
everything started to make sense."
David returned his gaze with calm equanimity.
"I can't explain it. I don't have Beth's way with words,
but I know what I know. I know I won't love Susan any
less if she has sex with another man. And sure, I think
Beth is sexy, but I'm not going to leave my wife to
chase another woman. I'm not that kind of guy."
"I know," David said. "If you were that kind of guy, you
wouldn't talk to me about swinging. Instead, you'd
probably try to seduce Beth behind my back, and I'd kill
you."
Jack laughed.
"You think I'm kidding?"
Jack sobered when he realized that David wasn't kidding.
Normally, the man was friendly and thoughtful, but he
could turn into a one-man wrecking crew when someone
threatened a person he cared about.
"Aw, hell," David said after a moment, "I didn't mean to
get so serious."
Jack waved away the apology.
"You know I'd never..." David gestured vaguely.
"...hurt you," Jack silently finished.
"Or Susan," David continued when he saw that Jack
understood. "I'd sooner cut off my own arm."
"I know."
"I..." David said, but stopped. He began again, only to
fall silent.
"Me too," Jack said quietly.
David nodded and then looked away to hide his emotions.
"I still want to talk to Beth," he said at last. "I mean
really talk to her this time. And I have to sort out
some things in my own head."
"Oh?"
"I need to figure out if I really can watch my wife have
sex with another man and not hurt him."
"You probably won't know till you try it."
"By then it might be too late."
"I have the utmost confidence in your self-control,"
Jack said.
"I'm glad one of us does."
**
Beth opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. Her
head hurt, her stomach threatened to revolt, her throat
was sore, and her legs ached. A hangover explained her
head and stomach. Her throat hurt because she'd
swallowed David whole. Repeatedly. Her legs hurt because
he'd bent her in half and fucked her for what seemed
like hours. Most of the night was a blur of drunken sex.
She lurched to her feet and paused as her head hammered.
Her stomach heaved and her legs felt unsteady, so she
closed her eyes and supported herself with a hand on a
nearby locker. The wood felt cool and solid and
reassuring.
She was still standing there when Susan emerged from her
cabin. She looked as bad as Beth felt, and they shared a
doleful look, silently commiserating. In the bathroom,
Beth rummaged in the medicine cabinet and found the
bottle of aspirin. They each swallowed several tablets
and then took turns gulping down cool water. Beth's
stomach didn't feel any better, but at least she wasn't
in danger of seeing last night's dinner again.
When they finally dragged themselves into the galley,
David took one look at them and chuckled ruefully. Then
he turned sympathetic and served them dry toast and
apple juice. He even had the good sense to take the
sizzling pan of sausage up on deck so the smell wouldn't
make them nauseous.
More nauseous, Beth thought, holding her head as she ate
her toast. She winced when she swallowed, but a sip of
juice soothed her throat. She silently thanked David for
taking care of them.
Jack bounded down the stairs a few minutes later. He
looked at them and clucked. Susan glared at him, but he
merely kissed her forehead. She winced, but scooted
around the dinette to give him room to sit.
"David and I are going ashore," he said, thieving a
piece of toast from her plate. "We need to buy fresh
produce. The guy last night told us about this place
called El Mercado market... or something like that." He
waved a dismissive hand.
"We also need to fill up with diesel and top the water
tanks," he continued. "I was going to ask you all to do
the shopping while David and I did the rest, but..." He
shrugged. "As they say around here, no problemo." He
paused to finish his toast.
"We'll probably take an hour on shore," he said at last.
"Go ahead and shower with fresh water. We have to top
the tanks anyway, so you might as well have a real
shower. It'll be our last till we reach Cabo San Lucas."
"Gee, thanks," Susan said.
Jack merely shrugged. "Yeah, I know, it's not much of a
treat, but it's the best I can do." He slid out of the
dinette. "Is there anything you want while we're
ashore?"
"A new body?" Beth said, only half joking.
"Why?" Jack said. "The one you have is great." He
laughed and kissed Susan's cheek. "We'll be back in an
hour or two."
**
Beth felt almost human by the time the men returned. Her
headache had faded to a dull throbbing instead of the
hit-by-a-truck feeling from earlier, and her stomach had
mostly settled down. Her throat was still a little sore,
but moving around had eased the ache in her legs. The
cold shower had even done wonders for her attitude,
since it spurred her to move faster, if only to warm up.
Best of all, the men returned with bouquets of
wildflowers from the market.
She smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss David. He smelled
like sweat and sex and the sea, and she smiled, inhaling
the heady mixture of man. She wasn't ready for a repeat
of last night -- especially the alcohol -- but she felt
a surge of affection for him and his odor.
With a lingering smile she began pulling fruit and
vegetables from the canvas bags. Then she and Susan
washed the produce. Jack hadn't trusted any of the pork
or poultry at the market, but he'd bought a tub full of
ice and fresh shrimp. He and David hoisted it to the
deckhouse roof, and Beth could hear them tying it down.
A few minutes later the boat vibrated as Jack started
the engine.
Susan grimaced when they began moving. "That's the last
time I let Jack get me drunk and take advantage of me."
"Next time," Beth teased, "just let him take advantage
of you."
"Exactly."
**
Jack gripped the wheel and swayed as the Nereid crested
a swell and raced into the trough. With Turtle Bay
dwindling behind them, he brought the bow a half-point
closer to the wind. The hint of a shudder told him that
he'd come up too far, so he eased the wheel until he
felt her steady.
The mast creaked as she began to gather speed. The
breeze was directly out of the north, and the Nereid
yearned to show her racing blood. She seemed to prance
through the waves like a thoroughbred.
He scanned the sails, checking their trim. Contentment
settled over him like a veil. He had wind, and that was
all that mattered at the moment. Everything else would
happen in its own time.
**
Beth had mostly recovered by dinnertime, but David
volunteered to cook. With everything that had happened
since San Diego, he'd fixed more than half their meals.
She laughed at her own laziness and joined him in the
galley.
"I thought I'd help," she said. Then she stepped close
and pressed herself against his side. She tilted her
head up for a kiss. "I'm feeling better."
"I could tell." He cupped her ass and waggled his
eyebrows suggestively.
"You want more?" she teased. "After last night?"
"Last night was just a warm-up."
"Do you want me to cut the vegetables?" she asked,
changing the subject to a safer one.
"Sure." He opened the built-in cooler and began pulling
out food.
He began cleaning the shrimp while she diced celery,
onion, and green pepper. The galley was cramped, but she
liked being close to him. She smiled fondly. Then she
glanced through the open hatchway and saw Susan. Her
eyes crinkled with the same smile.
Sorry, Jack, she thought with a soft snort. You're a
nice guy, but I'm not in love with you. She broke into a
grin. I still want to have sex with you, though.
She'd never felt that way about another man, but
something within her had awakened when she boarded the
Nereid. Oh, she didn't want to invite Jack to her bed
all the time -- she loved David and his dick too much
for that -- but a little variety never hurt. Besides, if
she could have sex with Susan, she was willing to do
just about anything, including sex with another man.
She turned to David and mustered her courage. "Have you
thought about... you know?"
He looked at her blankly.
"About... you know," she said. She glanced at the couple
on deck.
"What about them?"
She rolled her eyes.
He flushed with one of his rare and adorable blushes.
"Susan really does want to have sex with you," she said
matter-of-factly. "Jack does too."
"Jack wants to have sex with me?" He was trying to
change the subject.
"You know what I mean," she said. "Jack wants you to
have sex with Susan."
He stunned her with a pointed question: "But do you want
to have sex with him?"
She dried her hands, using the time to consider her
answer. "Yes... and no."
He arched an eyebrow.
She shrugged and tried not to squirm under his intense
gaze. "I guess it's part of the deal," she said at last.
He didn't reply. He did that sometimes, waiting for more
information. It was maddening, but she tried not to let
it get to her.
"I want to have sex with Susan," she said. "With you and
Susan, actually. But if I do, Jack'll probably want to
join in."
He snorted in wordless agreement. Then he met her gaze.
"And what about you?"
She frowned in puzzlement.
"I know how you think," he said, "and you want to make
me happy." He paused. "I can be happy without having sex
with Susan."
"But if you could be even happier...?"
He shrugged. "Lots of things might make me happier, but
that doesn't mean all of 'em are good. For instance, I'd
like to be rich, but that comes with its own set of
problems." He tossed his head toward Susan. "Look at
her. Her father's richer than anybody we know. A lot
richer, to hear Jack tell it. Millions, it sounds like."
Beth nodded. She knew all that, but it didn't matter.
Money couldn't buy happiness. Susan had said so more
times than Beth could recall.
"But she doesn't tell anyone," David continued, "because
she doesn't want people to treat her any different."
"So?"
"That's my point," he said enigmatically. "Money is a
double- edged sword. So is sex. Yeah, it's fun, but it
has consequences."
"Not if we don't let it," she said. She sounded
pleading, even to her own ears.
"Can you stop the sun from coming up in the morning?"
"You know I can't."
"Can you stop the rain from falling?"
"No."
"Can you--?"
"David, I get it."
"Sorry. But you see what I mean, right?"
She stepped close, heedless of the shrimp mess. "Yes, I
do. But I'm willing to take a chance. I love Susan. I
love you too. I want us to be happy. I want you to be
happy."
"I'm happy now."
"But you'd be happier if you had sex with Susan." As her
words registered, she mentally railed, Why do I have to
talk him into having sex with another woman? Aloud, she
said, "You know you would."
He didn't deny it.
"So why not give it a try? I want you to."
He set his jaw. "Why?"
She threw up her hands in frustration. "How should I
know? I can't explain how I feel. I'm the emotional one,
remember? You're the logical one, you figure it out!"
He grabbed her shoulders, and a tiny part of her
realized that she'd have shrimp on her blouse. She shook
off the distraction and met his eyes.
"Beth..." He started to say something else, but then
drew a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry."
She huffed, but didn't speak.
"I'm over-thinking this. I know I am, but that's just
the way I am. I..."
She couldn't stay angry with him, especially when he was
being honest. "I know," she said softly.
"I want to do this," he said. "I really do. But I just
can't help thinking about the consequences."
Much to her surprise, she laughed.
"What?" he said, emotion clouding his face.
She turned her laugh into a smile and stroked his chest.
"Jack said something... Not to me," she quickly amended,
"but in a letter to Susan. She read part of it to me. He
said you're brilliant when you don't think."
His brow lowered.
"It was a while ago," she said, "when you were first on
cruise. He said you had the best bombing results in the
squadron. I think he was bragging about how well he'd
taught you."
"He did teach me well."
"But that's not the important part," she said. She held
his eyes. "He said your problem was that you thought too
much. But when you didn't think, when you did things on
instinct, you were brilliant." She leaned close and
looked up at him. "Do that now, David. Please?"
He sighed and released her.
"What is it Jack says? 'Just go with the flow'?"
He nodded.
"Just go with the flow, honey. You'll enjoy yourself.
I'll enjoy myself too. If it doesn't work out, we don't
have to do it again. But just this once, please stop
thinking about the consequences. Okay?"
"You really want to do this?" he said, more statement
than question.
She answered anyway, "Yes, I do. I can't explain it."
She fought not to fret as he mulled her words.
"Okay," he said at last. Then, suddenly, he chuckled. "I
can't believe you had to talk me into having sex with
another woman."
She laughed at the irony.
He gave her a puzzled look.
"I was just thinking the same thing."
**
The wind was still blowing strong, so Jack suggested
having dinner on deck. He couldn't leave the wheel
unattended for more than a few minutes, and he didn't
want to heave to.
"Sounds good to me," David said, ducking back into the
cabin.
Beth stuck her head out a moment later. She beckoned to
Susan, who followed her below.
Suddenly alone, Jack judged the wind and re-trimmed the
mainsail. He bore away two points and the mast creaked
as the strain shifted. Their speed increased with the
wind on the quarter, but the boat heeled less, which
would make their dinner more pleasant. They'd have to
tack when they neared the coast, but it was a necessary
evil.
A few minutes later Susan emerged from the cabin with
two plates of food. He glanced at her once, but then did
a double take when he saw what she was wearing. Or not
wearing. Her blouse was white and sheer, and she wasn't
wearing anything underneath.
"Well, hello," he said.
"Hello, sailor. Come here often?"
"As often as I can."
She smiled and set the plates on the bench. Then she
turned and leaned into the hatchway. It was a deliberate
move, calculated to show her bare ass. She turned and
handed him a glass of iced tea. He made a show of eyeing
her up and down, enjoying the sight.
Beth emerged from the cabin a moment later and Jack
fought not to gape. Her "shirt" was actually a net-like
cotton jacket, zipped up the front. The holes in the
netting were large enough that her nipples poked
through. Like Susan, she wasn't wearing anything
underneath.
"David got shrimp on my blouse," she said, "so I thought
I'd change for dinner."
"Naturally," Jack agreed with a straight face.
"We thought you all would like these outfits better than
shorts and T-shirts," Susan said.
They ate dinner in relative silence, but their eyes did
a lot of the talking for them. David still looked
uncertain, but he was gradually loosening up. Not
surprisingly, Beth was flushed from more than the spicy
food. Susan put on a show, toying with the buttons on
her shirt, or shifting her legs to give David a glimpse
of her shaved pussy. Jack watched it all from the aft
cockpit. Fortunately, the compass binnacle hid the bulge
in his loose shorts.
"Who's ready for dessert?" Susan said at last. She and
Beth gathered the dirty plates and headed into the
cabin. Jack watched their asses as they went.
"Jesus," David said quietly.
"Quite a show," Jack said, grinning.
David shook his head, as if to clear it. "How do you
stand it?"
Jack did his best Lewis impersonation: "Just go with the
flow, man."
"You're the second person who's told me that today,"
David said.
"It's good advice." Jack said. "Seriously, if the girls
want to show off, who are we to complain?" He grinned as
the women emerged from the cabin.
"The papayas you bought smelled wonderful," Susan said,
"so we thought we'd serve them for dessert." She
sashayed past David. His eyes followed until Beth sat
beside him.
Susan pressed herself against Jack.
"Well," he said, "you must be feeling better."
"Beth gave me some good news while we were changing
clothes," she whispered.
He looked a question at her.
"David decided to 'go with the flow,' as she put it."
Jack snorted with laughter.
David and Beth looked up in surprise.
"Nothing," he said quickly. Then he decided to ratchet
up the sexual tension. "Say, girls, those are nice
shirts, but what do we have to do to get you out of
them?"
"Just ask," Susan said, sweet and half mocking.
"Ladies...?"
He wanted to pay attention to Beth, but Susan leaned
close as she unbuttoned her shirt.
"I told Beth we'd start slow," she said, her voice soft.
"So, nothing too wild tonight, okay? They can get used
to seeing another couple have sex."
"You want to have sex in front of them?" he said
quietly, more curious than surprised.
She nodded.
"Aye, aye, ma'am."
"Hey," she said, raising her voice theatrically, "what
about you guys?"
"What about us?" Jack asked, playing his part.
"We want to see you without your shorts."
"Yeah," Beth said.
"Show us your meat," Susan said.
Jack met David's eyes. "When in Rome..." he said.
"Wait!" Susan said. "We'll do it for you."
She set the papaya aside and took off his shirt and
shorts. In the forward cockpit, Beth did the same for
David. His dick easily bridged the gap between them.
Jack shook his head in wonder.
I want him to stick that monster into Susan?
**
Beth looked around the cockpit and felt a sense of
satisfaction. Finally, they were nude, and David had
begun to relax. She liked looking at his erection, and
she liked the covert glances Susan kept shooting his
way. Even Jack wasn't immune. He didn't gawk, but she
caught him looking a few times.
Poor David didn't know what to look at. Susan made a
show of licking her fingers as she ate her papaya, and
Beth teased him with casual touches. She also used her
breasts to shameless advantage, pressing them against
his arm, or "accidentally" dripping juice onto them.
"I feel like an idiot," he whispered to her when they
finished the papaya, "with this... thing... sticking out
of my lap. Can we go below for a few minutes?"
"But, darling," she half-drawled, "I like your thing."
She'd spoken in a normal voice, on purpose.
Susan turned toward them. "It is a nice thing, David,"
she said. "You should stop trying to hold it down. I've
seen a hard- on before. Believe it or not, I even know
what to do with one."
"He wants to go below for a few minutes," Beth tattled.
David shot a pleading look at Jack.
"Hey," Jack said, "don't look at me. I have the same
problem."
"Yeah," David said, "but you're hiding behind the
wheel."
"Here," Jack said, "you take the helm." He stepped aside
and climbed into the forward cockpit.
Beth discreetly watched his hard-on as he moved. He
wasn't nearly as well-endowed as David, but she knew
she'd enjoy having him inside her.
"Are you serious?" David said, drawing her attention
from Jack's dick.
"Yes sirree," Jack said. "Take the helm."
Incredulous, David rose and stepped past her. Beth
resisted the urge to swat his behind. She followed
instead.
"Now you can hide behind the wheel," Jack said, relaxing
on the cockpit bench.
His erection rested against his abdomen, and Beth felt
her mouth begin to water. She caught Susan's eye, and
they traded knowing looks. Then she turned back to
David. He hadn't counted on what she would do once his
dick was hidden from view. He nearly jumped out of his
skin when she gripped his shaft.
"Are you okay?" Jack said.
David's voice was tight: "Um... yeah. I'm fine." He shot
a sidelong glare at Beth. "Will you quit," he hissed.
She smiled serenely and didn't move. Well, she did move,
but only to begin stroking him.
"Beth," he hissed again.
She blithely ignored him. His erection felt hot and hard
under her fingers, and she couldn't wait to taste him.
"So," Jack said at last, "what do we have to do to get
some relief around here? You know," he continued, "a
little touchy- feely... maybe a handjob, or even a
blowjob?"
"Why, Jack," Susan cried, "I'm scandalized!" She looked
at Beth, eyes mockingly wide.
Beth started to agree, but then she felt a surge of
mischief.
"Susan, you should be ashamed, neglecting your husband
that way. I'm giving David a handjob right now." Susan
goggled. Jack merely grinned. David managed to look
sheepish and smug at the same time.
"Sneaky," Susan said at last. Then she laughed. "Well, I
know how to take care of my man." With that, she reached
for Jack's dick.
Beth smiled to herself as David swelled in her hand. She
knew he must be getting close, so she got his attention.
It took her three tries, since his eyes were riveted to
the other couple. When he finally looked at her, she
asked, "Do you really want to go below?"
He blinked at her.
"I can take care of you," she hinted.
He stared for a moment. "You started up here," he said
at last.
"I guess you should finish here."
It was her turn to goggle, but he merely gazed back at
her. She felt her face heating. She hadn't expected him
to turn the tables on her, so she tried to regain the
upper hand.
"Do you want to come in my hand?" she asked.
He darted a glance at her mouth.
Her eyes flew wide. "You can't be serious."
"Sure I am," he said quietly. "You want to have sex with
another couple, right? Well, did you think you could do
that without them seeing everything?"
"I guess I hadn't thought about it."
He nodded smugly.
"All right," she said, reading the challenge in his
eyes, "you want it? You got it." She turned to the other
couple. "Excuse me for a moment. I need to take care of
my husband."
With that, she sank to her knees and turned David to
face her. She knew that Susan and Jack couldn't see
exactly what she was doing -- the wheel and the compass
blocked their view -- but they could probably see
enough.
She felt a thrill of excitement as she stared at David's
erection. The swollen head was shiny with pre-come, and
the tiny slit leaked more as she watched. She closed her
eyes and opened her mouth.
Silence descended and she focused on what she was doing.
In her head, she heard herself from two nights ago: "I
hadn't thought that far ahead," she'd said. She could
hear David's mocking chuckle, "Of course not."
How's this for thinking ahead? she challenged silently.
Then she wrapped her lips around his glans and sucked,
hard.
When he winced, she came to her senses and relented.
Then she began sucking in earnest, her lips and hand
moving together.
After barely a minute, she felt him tense. Semen
splashed against the back of her throat, hot and
pungent. His shaft swelled with the next spurt. She
tasted him then, salty-bitter. The spurts turned to
gushes and she swallowed. Then she stroked him, nursing
his dick as the last drops trickled over her tongue.
When she finally pulled back and took a breath, the
scent of him lingered in her senses. He didn't grow
soft, but she stood anyway, fighting the urge to wipe
the corners of her mouth.
I just gave a blowjob in front of another couple! she
crowed to herself. I did it!
Even Susan and Jack seemed surprised.
Beth closed her eyes and imagined what David was going
to do to her later. They had the midnight-to-four watch,
and they'd have the deck to themselves.
And when we reach Santa Maria Bay, she thought, we can
have sex morning, noon, and night. Her pussy tingled at
the thought. When she opened her eyes, she followed
David's gaze to Susan. Her head was slowly bobbing in
Jack's lap.
"That'll be you soon enough," Beth whispered to David.
His hands tightened on the wheel, and she pressed her
breasts to his side. "I want to watch her suck you." Her
mouth watered at a sudden thought. "I want to taste her
pussy on you."
He grunted with desire. Then he tugged her in front of
him, the brass wheel cold against her middle. He stepped
behind her, his erection already probing between her
legs.
She smiled smugly -- the midnight-to-four watch was
about to start early.
**
Jack held his breath as David moved behind Beth. She
bent over the wheel and gripped it to steady herself.
She moaned softly as David entered her, and Jack
imagined what it would feel like to fuck her himself.
Susan groaned and he looked down. She was playing with
herself as she sucked him, and he took a moment to
admire her shaved pussy. Then his eyes traveled up her
body, admiring her soft curves. At a sound from the aft
cockpit, he turned.
David met his eyes, but quickly looked down. Jack
silently willed him to get over his shyness. With almost
painful anticipation, he watched David's shoulders
square as he gathered his courage. When he looked up and
met Jack's eyes, Jack flashed a cocky thumbs up. David
grinned.
They turned back to their wives, but Jack watched out of
the corner of his eye. David fucked Beth with long,
powerful strokes. Her breasts swayed and she cried out
softly as he slammed into her.
When Susan grew quiet, Jack focused on her. She was
close to her own orgasm, and her fingers blurred over
her clit. She tensed up a moment later, her face red
from exertion. With an explosive breath, she came.
After a minute or two, she relaxed and nursed his still-
hard dick. He glanced at the other couple. David had
cupped Beth's heaving breasts, and was using them as
leverage to pound into her. Her hair hid her face, but
Jack could imagine the look of pleasure on it.
David caught his eye and they exchanged a look without
any uncertainty. Jack smiled to himself and watched as
David fucked Beth. A minute later David threw his head
back and buried himself with a grunt. Beth moaned
softly, and Jack knew that he was squirting inside her.
He wanted to catch a glimpse of Beth's face, but Susan
silently got his attention. Without a word, she stood
and bent over the starboard bench. Her smooth pussy
shone with moisture, her lips plump with arousal. Jack
stood and moved behind her.
She was hot and wet, and he slid into her easily. With
the light from the open hatchway silhouetting them, he
began pumping. He shot a quick glance toward the stern,
to make sure the other couple was watching. They were,
and Beth was even playing with herself.
Jack smiled and turned back to his wife. She was already
worked up from her orgasm, and he could feel her pussy
clench with aftershocks. He didn't last long, especially
with the thrill of the other couple watching. At last,
he thrust deep and held still, his cock swelling with
the first rush of orgasm.
When the first rush subsided, he bent over Susan and
they panted in sync. He eventually caught his breath,
and his cock slipped from within her as he sank to the
bench. She collapsed beside him. He looked back and
caught David's eye. They traded smiles, but then David's
expression grew puzzled.
"What is it?" Jack asked, languid and complacent.
"The wind died," David said. "We're drifting."
Jack looked up at the sails. Sure enough, they hung
limp. When his eyes returned to the deck, he saw the
wheel shift as the current moved the rudder. "How long?"
he finally asked.
David spread his hands and shrugged.
All of a sudden, Jack laughed. "I guess we'll just go
with the flow."
**
The next morning, Jack gazed at a spit of land to the
east- southeast. It marked the northern end of Santa
Maria Bay. He glanced at his watch. His morning star
shots had re-established their position, but he was glad
to see the bay when he expected to. He loathed haphazard
navigation, but it was a small price to pay for a night
of pleasure.
"Boats ahoy!" David shouted from the bow.
Jack snapped alert. "Where away?"
"Two points off the port bow."
He spotted the cluster of small fishing boats. They'd
probably seen him a while ago, since the Nereid's sails
were far more visible than the little wooden boats.
When the sailboat reached the small fleet, Jack swung
the bow into the wind. David loosed the jib sheets and
the sail flapped gently in the breeze. The mainsail came
down a moment later, hanging in loose folds over the
cabin.
Three fishing boats motored toward them. Jack had a
Spanish phrasebook somewhere in the cabin, but English
had gotten him through most ports. The boats arrived a
few minutes later. They glided to a stop under the stern
of the Nereid.
With gestures and pidgin English, Jack asked if they had
any fresh catch to trade. He held up his trade goods,
the Dodgers shirts and caps. The fishermen nodded at the
opportunity. One crusty old salt seemed to be the
leader, so Jack focused on him.
Jack had bargained in ports all over the world, and he
knew how the game was played. He opened with an
outrageously low offer. He felt Susan stiffen behind
him, but he stuck to his offer. The old fisherman
countered outrageously high.
After several exchanges, the old man he held up four
gnarled fingers and a writhing lobster. He pointed to
the Dodgers T-shirt and held up two fingers. Then he
lifted a ten-pound bonito. He pointed at the Dodgers cap
and held up two fingers.
The offer was reasonable. Jack pretended to ponder for a
moment -- he'd have to trade with them again in a few
days, and he didn't want a reputation as a sucker -- but
he'd already decided to accept. Finally, he nodded. The
old man smiled a gap-toothed smile and gathered the
lobsters.
**
An hour later Beth felt her breath catch as she gazed at
the shoreline. Lewis's description paled in comparison
with the real thing. The beach was shockingly white, the
water perfectly blue. The coast was deserted, with
nothing man-made as far as the eye could see.
While she gazed at the bay's perfection, Jack and David
finished setting the anchor. When David returned from
the bow, he quietly took off his clothes. Without a
word, he stepped onto the stern and poised there. A
moment later he dived into the water, his white butt
flashing in the noonday sun.
Beth joined the others at the rail.
"I thought I'd go for a swim," he called up, with
comical aplomb.
The clear water swirled around him as he swam on his
back. Susan tried to look nonchalant, but her eyes
roamed over his body. Beth smiled.
"How's the water?" Susan asked.
"Perfect," David said, now treading water.
Susan didn't need any more invitation than that, and
quickly shed her clothes. She dived over the stern rail
a moment later, laughing as she broke the surface.
"Oh, Jack," she called back, "it's wonderful. C'mon in.
You too, Beth." Without waiting for a reply, she turned
and swam toward David.
Jack chuckled and began taking off his clothes. Beth
followed suit, although she watched sidelong as he shed
his shorts. When he bent over the rail to unroll a rope
ladder, she grew bold and stared at his butt. She looked
away at the last moment, but felt her pulse race as he
returned to the stern. He grinned at her and then dived
into the water. He surfaced fifteen feet away, dark hair
glistening in the sun.
She felt his eyes on her as she took a hesitant step to
the rail. Her cheeks heated at his attention, but she
enjoyed it as well. She stood for a moment, posing. Then
she dived over the rail.
Bubbles caressed her bare skin, and she broke the
surface a moment later, her hair clinging to her
shoulders. She'd expected the water to be chilly -- it
was November, after all -- but it was comfortable and
refreshing. With a scissor-kick, she started toward
Jack. Susan and David were already far ahead, swimming
hand over hand. Jack waited for her to catch up.
"What do you think?" he said.
"It's wonderful!"
"Do you want to join the others?"
She shook her head.
He nodded and fell silent, treading water as he gazed at
the shore.
She floated on her back, warm sun baking her body, water
lapping over her as she rose and fell with the waves.
She closed her eyes and felt her hair floating around
her. The water caressed her, soothed her, washed away
her sense of time.
When she opened her eyes again, she realized that she'd
drifted away from the boat. Jack was still with her, so
she relaxed. She heard David and Susan in the distance,
laughing and teasing each other. She couldn't make out
their words, but she could hear the banter in their
voices.
She cracked an eye and looked at Jack, floating next to
her. Without his clothes, he was quite a bit smaller
than David, at least through the shoulders and chest.
She closed her eyes and pictured him above her, pumping
into her, his face a mask of concentration. She wondered
what it would feel like to have him inside her.
She knew from Susan that he was a good lover, but what
exactly did "good lover" mean? Did he take his time? Did
he have some secret technique? Could he make his dick do
tricks? She smiled, relaxed and eager at the same time.
A touch on her wrist dragged her from her thoughts, and
she opened her eyes.
"We need to head back toward the boat," Jack said.
They were barely a hundred yards from the surf. With her
head out of the water, she could hear the whoosh-crash
of waves breaking on the beach. She nodded and began
swimming.
Like David, Jack was an excellent swimmer. He slowed his
powerful strokes to let her keep pace, and she silently
thanked him. When they reached the boat, she looked for
David and Susan. They were standing waist-deep on a
hidden sandbar, fifty yards away.
David seemed perfectly relaxed, and Susan was laughing
at something he'd just said. Beth felt a surge of
desire.
"You ready to climb aboard?" Jack asked.
Beth shook off her thoughts and nodded. She climbed the
ladder ahead of him, and smiled wryly at the view she
gave him.
"I'll fetch the towels," he said when he reached the
deck.
He returned a moment later and they dried off in
silence. She could feel the sexual tension between them,
but it was a comfortable tension, as though they were
old friends. Her eyes wandered to David and Susan in the
distance.
"David seems more relaxed," Jack said quietly, his
thoughts a mirror of Beth's own.
"Mmm hmm."
"That's good. I hate that he's so uptight sometimes." He
grimaced and quickly added, "I hate it for him, I mean."
"I knew what you meant," Beth said.
"I just wish he'd get it through his thick head that I
want him to pay attention to Susan."
Beth laughed in silent agreement.
After a moment Jack said, "Do you mind if I ask you a
question?"
"Not at all."
"It's personal, so don't hesitate to tell me to mind my
own business." He paused, boyishly shy. Then he seemed
to find his courage. "It doesn't hurt when you and David
make love, does it?"
In spite of his seriousness, she laughed.
In a rush, he said, "I've known guys with big dicks
before, but I've never asked 'em to have sex with my
wife. You know?"
She put her hand over her mouth, eyes still crinkled
with mirth.
"Sorry," he said quickly, abashed.
She finally composed herself. "Don't be." She touched
his arm and felt her pulse race. "David may be big, but
babies are bigger."
Much to her amusement, he blanched. Men were always so
squeamish when a woman mentioned giving birth.
"He won't hurt Susan," she said at last. "Trust me." Her
lips quirked as she borrowed one of his favorite
expressions, "Would I lie to you?"
He chuckled and cast a rueful glance her way.
She was touched by his concern, but she couldn't help
smiling at his misconception. Compared to childbirth, a
man's penis was a walk in the park.
But oh, what a walk it is, she thought.
With a secret smile, she returned to thoughts of Jack
above her.
**
That evening, Jack and David ferried the steel tub of
lobsters to the beach and made a driftwood bonfire. The
women roasted ears of corn and cooked cornbread in a
cast-iron skillet. Jack mixed a pitcher of white wine
sangria, and added just a splash of brandy.
After dinner they let the bonfire dwindle to low flames.
They lounged on blankets and sipped their drinks, worn
out from the afternoon's swimming and beachcombing. Jack
hoped for a repeat of the night before, but he knew that
the others were too tired. He reluctantly admitted that
he was too tired as well.
When Susan looked at him with drooping eyes, he and
David doused the last embers of the fire. The stars were
a peaceful blanket above them as they climbed into the
dinghy and returned to the Nereid in companionable
silence.
**
Beth opened her eyes and stretched luxuriantly. Morning
sun shone through the skylight, painting the wall a
cheerful yellow. She could smell coffee from the galley,
and she didn't have to look at David's bunk to know that
it was empty.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and
practically leapt up. With a smile at her own good
cheer, she went to the bathroom and brushed her hair.
She didn't bother putting on a bikini. Their little part
of the bay was absolutely deserted, and she was going to
enjoy being a full-time nudist, if only for a few days.
David and Jack stared at her when she entered the
galley. They were both wearing shorts, their suntanned
chests bare. Jack might not be as brawny as David, she
thought, but he had the body of a Greek statue.
"Good morning," she said, pretending not to notice their
stares. She reached into the cupboard and pulled down a
glass. "Is there any more apple juice?"
Susan emerged from the cabin a few minutes later. She
was wearing one of Jack's shirts, but nothing else. She
took one look at Beth -- blithely drinking her juice,
naked as the day she was born- -and then glanced at the
men.
"Well?" she said. They stared back at her. She gestured
at their shorts. "Off."
Beth hid a grin at their abashed expressions. But then
she cast a covert glance at Susan, who was unbuttoning
her shirt. Soon enough, they were all nude.
Susan put a towel on the dinette's seat and slid onto
it.
"So that's how you keep from sticking to the seats,"
Beth said.
"Mmm hmm. A towel is the nudist's best friend," Susan
said. Then her eyes sparkled. "Well, her second best
friend."
"What's the first?" David asked idly.
Beth bit her tongue -- he had played right into the
opening.
Susan looked at him and deadpanned, "An erection."
He nearly choked, but everyone else roared with
laughter.
"All right," he said, laughing at himself, "you got me."
"Not yet," Susan practically purred, "but I will
eventually."
Jack's laughter redoubled, and even Beth had to chuckle
at David's chagrined look.
"I give up," he said good-naturedly. "You win."
"What do I win?" Susan asked.
"Breakfast."
"Ooooh," she said, rubbing her hands together. "A thick
sausage?"
He shook his head and laughed in disbelief. "How about
banana pancakes?"
"Mmm, bananas," Susan cooed. "I just love a good, ahem,
banana."
Beth finally felt sorry for him, so she gave Susan a
look.
"I'm sorry, David," Susan said, still smiling. "You know
I'm just teasing, right?"
"You're not teasing," he said, "which kinda scares me."
"Why?" she asked, almost straight-faced. "I don't
bite... much. A few nibbles, maybe, but nothing more."
Jack laughed again, and David managed a long-suffering
look.
"Okay," Susan said at last, "I'll be serious. I'll even
help with breakfast. How's that?" She stood and moved
next to him.
Beth merely rolled her eyes at her friend's antics.
David was enjoying himself, though, and seemed to have
lost a lot of his shyness.
Jack said, "I think I'll go for a swim before
breakfast."
"I'll join you," Beth said.
Susan winked at her and then turned to David,
flirtatious and attentive at once.
"Wow," Beth said once she and Jack were on deck and out
of earshot.
"Yeah," he agreed. "She can be a handful when she sets
her mind to something."
"No kidding. I don't think David stands a chance."
"Nope, not a chance."
**
Later that morning, Beth wanted to take a shower. The
one in the cabin was out of the question -- Jack had
reminded them to conserve fresh water -- but the solar
shower was still in its locker. She thought about asking
Jack to fill it, but then she decided to bathe in the
ocean. The water was warm enough, so she took a bar of
soap and climbed over the side.
She didn't want to tread water and lather at the same
time, so she swam toward the hidden sandbar. The others
joined her a few minutes later. They stood in the clear
water and passed the bar of soap, chatting about
everyday things. Beth felt completely at ease, and
couldn't imagine anything more natural than bathing in
the ocean with friends.
"All right, boys," Susan said at last, "run along now.
Beth and I need to talk." She made a shooing motion.
"Go."
Jack challenged David to a race, and they sped away,
water churning behind them.
"Men," Susan laughed, watching them go. "They're just
big boys sometimes, aren't they?"
Beth nodded, her cheeks tight with a grin. Then she
turned serious. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Oh, nothing really. I just wanted to spend some time
with you." She watched the men, still racing toward the
Nereid. "Don't get me wrong," she said, "I love men, but
I never realized how much I miss the simplicity of being
with another woman."
Beth nodded and they fell silent. Then they waded into
deeper water, standing with the waves just over their
breasts. Finally, Beth said, "Do you really think
David's ready to... you know?"
"To fuck my brains out?"
Beth laughed, but nodded.
Susan gazed at the boat, considering. "I think so," she
said at last. "He's a lot more relaxed than before."
Beth nodded, but it felt weird to talk about her husband
as if he were some kind of stud for hire.
"Who knows, though," Susan finished.
Beth blinked in surprise. "You mean you don't?"
"Not really. I'm just winging it. I've never arranged an
orgy."
"Is that really what's going to happen?" Beth asked. She
was surprised at the doubt in her voice.
"I hope so," Susan said cheerfully. Then she turned
serious. "But I really have no idea." She shrugged. "All
I know is that I'm going to keep flirting with your
husband until he actually does something about it."
**
Jack watched Susan and David with a mixture of emotions.
Amusement. Peevishness. Resignation. The couples had
swapped for the day. No one had said anything -- they'd
just done it. Susan and David had spent the afternoon
flirting. At the moment, they were swimming near the
sandbar, laughing and splashing each other.
Unfortunately, David seemed to have the willpower of two
men. Three, even. He was obviously interested in Susan -
- he seemed to have a constant erection -- but he hadn't
done anything more than flirt. Susan, on the other hand,
had done everything but throw herself at him. Yet David
bore it all with heroic self-control.
Jack had eventually decided that David was teasing
Susan, toying with her. When she finally realized what
he was doing, it only made her try harder. At first,
Jack had been annoyed and frustrated. He wanted to get
on with things, and his patience had worn thin.
Beth had read him perfectly. So while Susan and David
flirted -- endlessly, it seemed -- Beth spent time with
Jack. He enjoyed her company, and his mood improved as
they passed the afternoon together. She wasn't as brazen
as Susan, but she flirted in her own way, quiet and
subtle.
She sat beside him now, perched on the deckhouse so they
could watch the others' antics. Unfortunately, Jack had
a hard-on that wouldn't go away, and his balls ached
with the need for release.
On some level, Jack understood that David needed to make
the first move, but he only had so much patience.
Fortunately, David was a flesh-and-blood man -- he could
only take so much foreplay before moving on to the main
event. So Jack was willing to wait a little longer.
But only a little, he told himself, shaking his head in
disbelief -- again -- at David's self-control.
Beth sensed his frustration. She reached over and patted
his thigh, her hand mere inches from his cock. He
appreciated the attention, but he was ready for more
than casual caresses. He took a deep breath and tried to
relax. He was not a patient man, but he had his own
brand of self-control. If that meant waiting until David
made his move, then so be it.
"Come on," Beth said, standing. "Let's get dinner ready.
You mix the sangria while I figure out what to do with
the fish."
"Uh-uh," he said, glad to focus on something that wasn't
sex. "I'll filet the bonito while you make the sangria."
"Yes, sir," she said.
He cast one last glance at Susan and David. Then he
followed Beth below, his eyes on her ass. His erection
bobbed like a bloodhound on a scent.
**
Beth set her plate on the beach blanket and leaned back
against Jack's knees. He'd seasoned and grilled the fish
to perfection, and she'd drunk enough sangria to take
the edge off her burning desire. She gazed at the
bonfire, watching the glowing embers float skyward. The
whisper of the waves reached her over the crackle of the
fire. The sound lulled her, soothed her, and she felt
Jack's hands on her bare shoulders, massaging gently.
"That was delicious," Susan said. She and David sat
together, propped against a silvered driftwood log.
"We have a special treat for dessert," David said.
Beth perked up at that. David hadn't done a thing to
help prepare dinner. She didn't blame him -- he had
fixed most of their meals so far -- but she wondered
what he was up to.
"Oh?" Susan said.
He deliberately drew things out. "Well," he said, "it's
special."
"What? Tell us."
"It's one of Beth's favorites," he said.
Beth searched her memory, but shook her head as she drew
a blank.
David stood, his half-hard dick swaying with the motion.
He put his hands on his hips. "I hope you like hard cock
with fresh cream."
In a flash Susan turned and rose to her knees. She
knocked over her glass of sangria, but she didn't seem
to care. With an eager moan, she captured the tip of
David's dick.
"Fuckin' ay," Jack muttered. "It's about time."
Beth turned and grinned at him. Then her grin turned
mischievous. As innocently as she could, she said, "Do
you have a hard cock with fresh cream for me?"
He shot to his feet so fast that she almost fell over.
She grinned and knelt before him, her eyes at a level
with his hard-on. With a half-laugh, she put her hands
on his hips and drew him closer. Then she kissed the tip
of his dick, inhaling the scent of him.
Jack's penis was only the third she'd tasted in her
life, and she paused to savor it. Then she opened her
mouth to swallow more of him. He was hard and smooth,
smaller than David, but still a comfortable mouthful.
She moaned, low and deep in her throat. He echoed the
sound as she pursed her lips and pulled back. She
planted a line of wet kisses along the underside. When
she reached his balls, she closed her eyes and nuzzled
them.
He moaned softly and she felt his erection bob. She
gently tongued his testicles, tasting the salty flavor
of his skin. She pulled back, her lips trailing along
his length. When she reached the crown, she wrapped her
lips around it.
She sucked gently for a few moments before she opened
her eyes and gazed up at him. To her surprise, he wasn't
looking at her. Instead, he was gazing across the fire,
staring at Susan and David.
Her eyes widened and then narrowed as she felt her brows
lower.
She decided to get his attention.
**
Jack watched Susan's head bob back and forth.
Unfortunately, he couldn't see more -- the angle was
wrong. Turn your hips, David, he silently willed. Just a
little... just until I can see wha --
He closed his eyes and groaned as a wave of heat and
wetness assaulted his dick. When he finally came to his
senses, he looked down and felt his eyes widen. Beth had
swallowed his entire cock!
Another wave of pleasure threatened to overwhelm him as
she sucked gently. He swallowed hard as she pulled back
and his dick reappeared, one saliva-covered inch at a
time.
She paused when she reached the tip. Then she opened her
mouth to engulf him again. Even though he knew what to
expect, he still clamped his eyes shut and groaned at
the sheer pleasure. After a moment he realized that he
was in her throat.
He groaned again, his head spinning. He knew he wouldn't
last long if she kept it up, but he couldn't stop her.
He was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by an overload of
pleasure. She took him deep again, and he felt the first
twinges of orgasm. His whole cock tingled, and his balls
practically vibrated with the need for release.
He wanted to warn her that he was about to come, but he
couldn't form the words. He felt pressure so intense
that it seemed like a physical blow. The feeling
threatened to overwhelm him.
Finally, Beth pulled back until only the head remained
in her mouth. She stroked his shaft and he jerked as
though he'd gripped a live wire. With a groan, he
emptied his balls into her mouth.
When he finally came to his senses, he gazed down at
her. She smiled with her eyes, her lips a lovely circle
around the head of his dick. His chest heaved from the
force of his orgasm, and it took an effort of will to
remain standing.
Slowly, he felt the strength return to his limbs. His
dick was completely soft now, but Beth still sucked
gently. He pulled himself from her lips and sank to his
knees. On impulse, he kissed her, tasting himself on her
wet lips. She tensed at first, but relaxed after a
moment. When he pulled back, she looked abashed, and he
suddenly felt guilty.
"That was amazing," he said at last.
She smiled and blinked with something close to
embarrassment. Then she grew bolder. "When I saw you
watching Susan," she said, "I wanted to get your
attention."
"Well, you got it all right!" He quickly sobered.
Without a word, he gently pushed her to the blanket.
**
Beth gazed up at Jack, his face lined in the light from
the bonfire. She felt a shiver of anticipation race
through her as he looked at her. Her cheeks heated, but
she quickly forgot her embarrassment when he kissed her
earlobe.
He trailed a line of kisses down her jaw to the hollow
of her throat. She felt a fresh rush of moisture at his
touch. A part of her was nervous, but something about
his confidence made her forget her worries.
Across the campsite, David and Susan were doing...
something. She couldn't tell by the sounds, but they
were enjoying themselves. Why shouldn't she do the same
with Jack? After all, she wanted to be a swinger, didn't
she? And this was swinging.
She swallowed hard when he kissed the valley between her
breasts. His hand had found its way between her legs,
and she didn't know whether to pay attention to his lips
or his fingers. He sucked her nipples, biting gently. At
the same time, he rubbed a finger along her slit,
testing her wetness.
His kisses moved lower and she slowly lost track of the
world around her. She was sure that David and Susan were
still nearby, although she couldn't seem to hear them.
She felt the heat of the fire on her face, but she
couldn't bring herself to look at it. For a long, dreamy
moment, she simply watched the floating embers compete
with the stars. The pattern was beautiful, a warm glow
above her.
Another glow spread within her as she felt Jack's
shoulders between her legs. He teased her at first,
rubbing his fingers through her folds and tasting her
juices. She writhed insistently, but he didn't relent.
Instead, he blew on her gently. The rush of cool air
made her shiver.
She ran her fingers through his hair and lifted her
hips, moaning softly with desire. When he finally licked
her, she felt a surge of heat spread from her pussy. He
licked again and she saw spots as she squeezed her eyes
shut. She tried to concentrate on the feelings in her
pussy, but she kept losing herself.
Minutes... hours... days later, heat and moisture
erupted from somewhere deep within her, swelling outward
to engulf her. Someone moaned, the sound coming from far
away. Jack held her hips down, his mouth on her pussy,
as though filling her with molten pleasure.
Someone moaned again, and she realized it was her. Her
eyes snapped open and she gazed into the glow above her,
part real, part rapture. She rocked her hips, the
pressure building within her.
With a final groan, she felt her body go rigid, light
and heat and pleasure suffusing her senses. She closed
her eyes but the glow didn't disappear. It swelled and
surrounded her, lifting her effortlessly, pulling her
into the sky. And then... the world went dark and she
fell limp.
**
Jack raised his head and looked at Beth with a sense of
genuine alarm. She'd been writhing in the throes of an
orgasm and then she'd simply stopped moving. Her breasts
still rose and fell, so she was breathing, but he was
afraid that she'd passed out. He had smelling salts on
the boat, but it was hundreds of yards away.
"Jesus, Jack," David said from across the fire, "did you
kill her?"
"I don't know," Jack said at last. "I was just... you
know, and..." He gestured helplessly.
Susan heard the concern in his voice and rose. Before
she could cross the space between them, Beth stirred.
Susan knelt beside her.
"What happened?" Beth said feebly. She looked up when
David loomed over her. "Oh, hi."
With a sudden sense of relief, Jack stifled a chuckle at
her casual reply.
"Hi, sweetheart," David said, kneeling. "Are you okay?"
"Mmm... more than okay," she said dreamily.
Susan laughed, rich and genuine and completely
disarming. "Come on," she said to Beth, "let's get you
up."
David and Susan helped her to her feet, and Jack stood
as well. He felt silly standing there, not knowing what
to do, but where else could he go? Besides, he felt
responsible for whatever had happened to Beth, although
it sounded like she'd simply passed out for a moment or
two. A part of him felt smug, but he was also worried.
"Do you feel like a walk along the beach?" David asked,
his arm supporting her.
She shook her head weakly. "Can we just sit by the
water?"
Susan put her hand on Jack's arm, but he didn't need the
signal. The other couple needed some time alone.
"What did you do?" she asked in a low voice when they
were far enough away.
He shrugged. "The usual."
She smirked at him. "The thing with your finger,
inside?"
"Well, yeah," he said. "And the other thing, with my
lips, where I suck and blow."
Her eyebrows shot up.
He suddenly felt sheepish. "I was trying to make a good
impression."
She chuckled.
"What?"
"Oh, you certainly made an impression." She grinned at
him, familiar and wry at the same time.
"Well, what'd you want me to do?"
"Oh, relax," she said, without heat. Then she gazed at
the unseen couple on the beach. "I think Beth just got
her first taste of what I've enjoyed for years." She
kissed his cheek. "Mmm," she breathed, "you smell good."
He smiled, but he was still preoccupied with Beth. "Do
you think she's okay?"
"She's fine," Susan reassured him. "Trust me."
"And what about you?" he asked. "With all that was going
on..."
She smirked.
"...I didn't get a chance to see what you and David were
up to. Did you enjoy it?"
Her eyes sparkled and she nodded.
"What did you do?"
They sank to the blanket and she told him. Surprisingly,
she and David hadn't actually had sex.
"So you pretty much did what Beth and I did," he said at
last. "Good. I still want to watch David fuck you."
"And you want to fuck Beth."
"Well, yeah. But I also want to watch you and David."
"There's no reason you can't do both at the same time."
It took him a moment to realize that he was grinning
like a halfwit.
**
"Are you sure you're okay?" David asked for the third or
fourth time.
"I'm fine," Beth said. "I just got a little worked up."
She looked at him. "You're not upset?"
He laughed, low and soft. Then he shook his head.
"Are you sure?"
"You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"
She felt her cheeks heat as she nodded. She was glad
they were away from the fire, since he couldn't see her
blush.
"I was just worried when I thought you'd passed out."
"I think I did pass out," she said, "if only for a few
seconds."
"Oh." He didn't sound upset or hurt or even annoyed.
She'd just had the best orgasm of her life -- with a man
who wasn't her husband -- and the husband in question
wasn't angry? He sounded... amused. He confirmed her
suspicion with a chuckle.
"You should've seen Jack's face," he said. "He looked
like he was ready to do mouth-to-mouth or something."
Well, she joked to herself, he'd already done mouth-to-
pussy. When she realized that David wasn't jealous, her
anxiety faded entirely.
"I'm just glad you're okay," he said.
"I'm okay."
"Good."
"So what did you and Susan do?" she asked when he fell
silent.
"The usual stuff."
"Such as..."
He hesitated and then said, "She gave me a blowjob."
"And...? Did you enjoy it?"
"Yeah, of course." He looked around, as if to make sure
no one could overhear.
We're on a deserted beach! she thought, with an
affectionate smile.
"Susan's pretty good," he said, leaning close, "but not
nearly as good as you."
She felt her cheeks heat again. "Thank you."
Suddenly, he laughed.
"What?"
"She was pretty surprised when I came."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "She almost choked. But when she pulled back,
she had to dodge." He chuckled again, softer.
Beth smiled at the image of Susan's surprise.
"After she cleaned up," he continued, "I went down on
her."
"How'd you like it?"
"Clean-shaven is nice," he said, with more candor than
she expected. Then he shrugged. "Yeah, I definitely
enjoyed it, but I don't want you to shave any time
soon."
She nodded. Then a thought occurred to her. "Did you
have sex with her?"
"Uh-uh."
"Why not?"
"You passed out," he said simply. He was teasing her.
"So, I guess you're ready for round two."
When they returned to the circle of firelight, Susan and
Jack were sitting on their blanket, talking quietly.
Jack had found another age-silvered driftwood log, and
he was leaning against it, with Susan reclining against
him.
"How do you feel?" Susan asked.
"A bit weak in the knees," Beth said, "but other than
that, I'm fine."
She and David propped themselves against the first log,
and she sat between his legs, enjoying the feeling of
his body against hers. They chatted for a while, mostly
about the stars. Jack showed them the constellations,
his arm reaching toward the heavens.
When he fell silent, their eyes returned to earth and
Susan spread her legs slightly. Beth might not have
noticed, but David did, and his dick began to swell
against the small of her back. She smiled. Susan was
putting on a show.
At a quiet word from Jack, she spread her legs a bit
more. Beth couldn't see much, because of the shadows,
but she could imagine what the other woman was doing.
Finally, Jack whispered something else and Susan gazed
at Beth with a knowing smile.
Beth felt her insides quiver as a wave of heat washed
over her. Behind her, David grew tense with
anticipation, his dick hard against her back. Susan
rolled to her hands and knees and crawled toward them.
"I thought I'd join you," she said, kneeling between
Beth's feet. Then she met David's eyes. "You don't mind
if I fool around with your wife, do you?"
"Be my guest," he said, a tremor of lust in his voice.
Beth closed her eyes as Susan leaned toward her. They
kissed for a long time, gentle at first, but with
growing passion. When David cupped her breasts, she
groaned into Susan's mouth. Then she felt Susan's hand
between her legs, feeling for the heat and moisture
there. Her breathing grew ragged with desire.
Finally, Susan pulled back and Beth opened her eyes. Her
pulse raced at the thought of putting on a show for the
men, and she saw her desire mirrored in Susan's eyes.
Beth slid away from David and lay on the blanket. Susan
turned and straddled her in a sixty-nine. Beth glanced
at David and grinned, but he was staring at Susan's
pussy.
Beth felt Susan's hands on her inner thighs, spreading
them wider, giving Jack a good look at her pussy. She
smiled to herself and returned the favor, reaching
around Susan's hips to spread her clean-shaven labia,
giving David a show.
She teased the slick folds for a moment or two, simply
marveling at their beauty and simplicity. Then she
closed her eyes as she felt Susan's lips on her clit.
She raised her own lips and tasted Susan's arousal.
David made a low, throaty sound, and Beth smiled as she
sucked gently.
She lost track of time as she concentrated on Susan's
pussy. Soon enough, Susan stopped licking altogether,
and Beth smiled at her minor triumph. But then she felt
a presence close to her. When she opened her eyes, David
loomed large, his erection jutting almost obscenely. He
shuffled closer and met her gaze. She smiled with her
eyes and held Susan open for him. He moved closer still,
the head of his dick already slick with pre-come.
Susan moaned as he rubbed his shaft over her slit and
covered himself with her moisture. Entranced, Beth
watched as he entered her slowly, the fat head of his
dick pushing her labia inward. She'd never seen anything
like it before, and she realized that she was holding
her breath.
David's dick slowly disappeared into Susan's body. He
was taking his time, letting her grow accustomed to his
girth. When he finally ground his hips against her, he
held still. After a long moment he drew back, slow and
steady. Then he thrust again, and she groaned as he
filled her.
Beth watched for a moment or two, captivated by the
sight of her husband fucking another woman. A part of
her was annoyed that Susan had stopped licking her, but
only a small part. She knew she wouldn't be neglected.
As if on cue, she felt Jack between her legs. She
couldn't see what he was doing, but she wanted him to
fuck her while David was fucking Susan. It seemed
fitting, somehow. Unfortunately, he didn't enter her
right away. Instead, he played with her pussy, his
fingers growing slippery with her moisture.
Susan groaned, but it was a muted sound, and Beth
realized that Jack must have fed her his dick. She could
feel him rocking on his knees, his fingers working in
time with his short thrusts. Susan moaned again, filled
from both ends by hard dicks. Beth felt a rush of envy.
To keep her mind off her own desire, she focused on
Susan's pussy. With David thrusting steadily, she didn't
want to disturb his rhythm. So she carefully thrust a
hand between Susan's legs.
While David pounded away, Beth played with Susan's
slippery clit. Soon enough, she felt her grow tense.
David was slamming into her, jarring her as their bodies
met with soft slaps.
With so much stimulation, Susan didn't last long. She
moaned, and her stomach heaved with the spasms of
orgasm. Beth caught her breath and swallowed hard. The
heat between her legs had become almost unbearable, and
she was eager for Jack to fuck her.
While Susan slowly recovered, Beth eyed David's dick. He
was still hard, and she could tell by his low-hanging
balls that he wasn't even close to orgasm. She smiled to
herself and tapped his thigh to get his attention. He
pulled back, his erection sliding free with a soft
sucking sound. Beth's mouth watered at the thought of
tasting Susan on him.
He grinned when he saw what she wanted. Then he lowered
his hips, moving the tip of his dick to her mouth. She
moaned when she tasted the mixture of his pre-come and
Susan's juices. She arched her neck and swallowed more
of his dick, her tongue playing along the top for a
change.
She felt Susan climb off. Jack was still between her
legs, and he scooted closer.
"Be my guest," David said, answering some unspoken
question.
For the first time in her life, Beth felt another man
rub his dick along her slit. Then she felt his weight as
he situated himself above her. She couldn't see more
than David's balls and thighs, but she knew what Jack
was doing. She watched in her mind's eye as he set the
tip of his dick at her opening.
A thrill of anticipation ran through her at the thought
of Jack entering her. She felt David swell in her mouth,
and a rush of love surged deep within her. He was about
to watch another man enter her, but his reaction was
lust instead of jealousy. It made her love him even
more.
She was still thinking about him when she felt the first
pressure of Jack's dick. He slid into her easily, his
hips pressing against her thighs as he buried his length
inside her. A blaze of triumph erupted from somewhere
deep within her -- she had her husband's dick in her
mouth and another man's dick in her pussy. She vaguely
felt Susan's hands on her breasts, but she concentrated
on the men and their dicks.
Jack began thrusting and she groaned. David felt the
sound and fed her more of his length. She sucked
greedily as his thick manhood filled her mouth and
stretched her lips. At the same time, Jack's dick turned
her insides molten. She could definitely feel that he
was smaller than David, but he still hit all the right
places within her.
She didn't know how long they fucked before she felt
Jack drive deep. He thrust a few more times and then
pulled out. With a groan of surprise, she felt a splash
of warmth across her tummy. A distracted part of her
wondered why he hadn't come inside her.
Just then, she felt David tense, and she knew that he
was close. She wanted to taste his come, but she knew
that she couldn't swallow with her neck arched as far as
it was. He knew it too, so he pulled out and stroked
himself. She opened her eyes in time to see the first
spurt fly over her chest. She felt it splatter her
belly. The second spurt fell in the valley of her
breasts. The final spurts landed on her face and neck.
David sank to his heels, panting from the force of his
orgasm. Between her legs, Jack sat back, also breathing
heavy. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers over her
stomach. She had two men's semen on her, and she felt a
shiver of taboo as she gently swirled it together.
So this is what it feels like to be a swinger, she
thought. Slippery and warm. A moment later she smiled. I
like it.
EPILOGUE
Jack opened the curtains and gazed out the window of the
hotel. The Sea of Cortez stretched as far as the eye
could see. The solid floor felt unfamiliar beneath his
feet, and he already missed the Nereid. They had
delivered her the day before, and then driven to La Paz.
He looked at his watch. For once, he was awake before
David, but he couldn't blame the man for sleeping late.
They'd rented the El Presidente suite in the city's
nicest hotel, and then spent the night screwing
themselves silly.
He smiled at the memory. Then he let his mind wander
further back. Their last night in Santa Maria Bay had
been an all-out orgy, with enough sucking and fucking to
last a week. David had shed the last traces of shyness,
and even Beth was surprised by his enthusiasm.
Best of all, the women were already talking about a
swinging party for when they returned to Lemoore. Jack
was daydreaming about it when he heard a noise behind
him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw David emerge
from the second bedroom.
"Morning," Jack said.
David blinked at the sunlight streaming through the open
curtains. "Mornin'. Is there any coffee?"
"Not yet. I thought we'd order a big breakfast from room
service."
David nodded and then yawned mightily.
"And if the girls are in the mood," Jack added, "I can
introduce you and Beth to a fun breakfast idea. I call
it 'Breakfast and a Blowjob.'"
David barked a laugh.
"It's a swinger special."
The End
**
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I couldn't have written Nereids without
the tremendous help of my all-volunteer team. Since I
don't want eager readers to pester them for details, I
keep their identities a closely guarded secret. They
know who they are, though, and they know how much I
appreciate what they do.
Also, I'd like to thank two people who joined the team
specifically for Nereids. First, I'd like to thank Brett
for his invaluable help with all the sailing aspects.
I'm a semi- competent armchair sailor, but Brett is an
old salt who's "been there, done that," around the
world.
I'd also like to thank LisaAnn for giving me the benefit
of her female perspective. I know a bit about how women
think, but I see things through testosterone-colored
glasses. LisaAnn set me straight when I needed it.
I had fun writing this book. I learned a lot, and I had
a chance to share some of the background that's been
filling my head since I began writing Summer Camp.
I hope you enjoyed it.
Nick Scipio
Southeast US
August 1, 2006
**
Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
Discussion Forum:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ScipioForum/
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 66