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From: Nick Scipio <nick@nickscipio.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Nereids" by Nick Scipio - Ch 8 (MF, oral)
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Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2007 20:10:02 -0500
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Nereids
Part: Chapter 08
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: 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.
Keywords: MF, oral
Revision: 1.03
Word Count: 9,898
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                        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.

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.

*****************************************************************

Nereids
A Summer Camp Story
by Nick Scipio

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.

**

Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

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