Page 2 of Voyage with Dad's Best Friend
Thankfully, the traffic is light. She’s nibbling on an energy bar, licking her lips and moaning with appreciation, as if enjoying some sort of gourmet. Fuck me. That pink lip darting out of her mouth once in a while is driving me crazy. I’m dying to have a taste of her sweet little mouth. My breathing turns shallow and my heart raps in my ribcage, I feel as if I were a young man once again, and I’m going out with the prettiest girl in school. Elle’s blush doesn’t help a bit.
Before coming to pick her up, I spent time to groom myself to look good for her, but I don’t think I’ve made any impression on her at all. She isn’t looking at me, but keeps her eyes ahead. Damn. Who am I kidding and why should she look at me? I’m just her dad’s friend. An old man. I’m forty-one, and I haven’t regarded myself as old until now.
I pull myself together when I see Martha standing in front of her condo and pull over to the curb.
I help Martha to put her suitcase in the trunk and open the rear door for her. She lingers for a moment before getting in. “You look dashing!” she says coquettishly, not hiding her lust.
“Thank you, you too!” I say, giving her a quick hug.
Martha is an attractive woman and has done a superb job managing my properties in the Bay Area. We’ve been friends for many years, and she has expressed her interest in me on more than one occasion. I’ve refused politely because she isn’t right for me.
When I introduce the two to each other, Elle looks at the older woman with awe, the way an innocent young woman often do when they look at older, experienced woman. She blushes a bit at the older woman’s scanty outfit. Honestly, Martha is a bit indecent and I hope Elle won’t ever dress that way in public.
Martha doesn’t care for the little girl so much and doesn’t give her as much as a “Hi.” Her attention turns to me soon. “So where is your boat?”
“At St. Francis Yacht Club,” I say.
“Ooh!” She raises an eyebrow. “Expensive.”
After getting some coffee and muffins at a Starbucks near the yacht club, we head toward the marina.
“That’s my Cat,” I say proudly, as we near my Lagoon Catamaran.
“What a beautiful boat!” Martha exclaims. “Is it new?”
“Thank you,” I say. “She’s almost ten years old.”
“Well, you certainly maintain it well,” she says.
Elle looks no less impressed. Although she doesn’t speak, her eyes shine and her mouth open when she sees the boat.
I show the ladies to their cabins.
“Great,” Martha says as she puts down her suitcase. “I’ll probably spend most of the day here, if you don’t mind. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Help yourself!” I say. “But have breakfast first.”
“Sure I will,” she says.
I take Elle to her cabin next to Martha’s. She has a large island bed that takes up most of the cabin space, and she looks delighted.
“Wow, it looks so comfy!” she exclaims as she drops onto the bed and lies spread-eagle. “So much larger than my bed in the dorm.”
My manhood jolts. It’s all I can do not to fall on top of her.
She rolls from one side to the other as if teasing me, and giggles. “For sure I won’t roll out of the bed.”
“What? Do you do that a lot?”
“I did it often when I was a kid, so I’m always afraid it’ll happen again,” she says sheepishly. “I like to roll on my bed.”
I swallow as I imagine her rolling underneath me.
Martha calls from the stairs. “I’m ready for breakfast, Dan.”
“Okay. We’ll be joining you soon,” I say to her.
And then I extend my arm toward Elle. “Come on.”
