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This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit 
without the written permission of the author. It may be 
freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. 
Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved. 
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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