Long Weekend at the Slatter Beach

After going through the stress of having to act the part of a real estate developer on my date with Kay, the wannabe partner in a big law firm, and then later getting pushed around by a bunch of bossy G-men, I was ready for a normal client. Just a woman who wants to have nice dinner, go to a concert, take in a movie and then afterwards, have a nice friendly fuck -- or even a little kinky shit. Just no more stress from pretending I'm a normal successful big shot instead of a bail jumper, itinerant laborer and male escort.

When my cell rang, I shuddered thinking it would be Maureen or Jolene with another stress client. It was Jolene. "Art, I wondered how long it'd be before you had some repeat clientele. Wanna guess who it is?"

With a note of dread in my voice, I started with guessing who I hoped it wasn't, "Not Fatim, one of our allies from an oil rich Middle Eastern country?"

After a few more tries Jolene interrupted. "Art remember your first date?"

I couldn't believe my luck. It was no-complications in the name of Denise - late 50's, packing a few pounds too many and ignored by her rich cardiologist husband who was fucking his young nurse with the juicy pussy.

Jolene was halfway apologetic. "Well Art, you can't expect to always get clients who look like models. Anyway, it's the clients we get who pay, not the clients we don't get."

I played the part of the dedicated warrior who takes it as it comes. "Right, we can't always choose our mission. You know my motto: 'Service is my middle name'."

Jolene seldom missed an opportunity to be bitchy. "Oh Art, that's a really clever pun. Got any more?" But never one to miss out on a chance to make money either, she quickly got over her bitchiness and turned nice. "Guess what. It's a multi-day stint. The client wants to meet you out at Towson on Wednesday for lunch, and then go to the Delaware shore for a long weekend. Casual dress, oh you'll need swim trunks too." Then injecting a forced laugh, she continued, "at least when you're on the beach."

My mood improved about 500%. On our one date, Denise had been a no fuss, no muss client. Just a woman past her prime and in need of good uncomplicated fucking and some halfway kinky stuff. Plus, bail jumper and itinerate laborer that I am, I don't get many opportunities to enjoy beach life.

I had to control myself to not say, "where in Towson" too fast.

"In the lobby of the Best Western, same place where you met her the last time. She won't be a guest though. She said at 12 noon and you'll have lunch there together and afterwards head out to the Delaware shore. Don't be late. From Towson, it's close to 3 hours driving and you never know about traffic."

I couldn't believe my luck. Not only was there going to be 4 full days of 'tips', more important though was that only the first day would be halfway strenuous. I figured that after that, Denise's carnal appetite would start petering out and it'd be easy street for the rest of the weekend.

On Wednesday morning, I packed a newly acquired gym bag with some clothes, toiletries and a newly acquired swim suit and took a bus downtown where I caught the No. 48 Quick Bus out to Towson Town. There I caught a cab to the Best Western. I could have easily walked but hotel staff looks at walk-ins as suspicious characters and anyway, I didn't want to be all sweated up.

Arriving early, I took a seat in the lobby and waited. Around 11:45, in walked Denise. I wondered why she didn't recognize me straight away and then remembered my Mitt Romney hair styling. On our first 'date', I'd been my 100% natural gray. After we sat down for lunch she gushed compliments about my new look. In fact she had so many compliments, I had to change the subject.

We had a really healthy lunch of Greek salads and mindful of the 2+ hour drive, avoided wine. She explained that we were going to Slatter Beach where she had use of a beach house. I conjured up visions of the two of us pumping away to the music of crashing waves as cooling breezes wafted in through open windows, early morning swimming followed by showering together and then breakfast on a porch facing out over the Atlantic. All that did indeed come about, but that there would be more didn't even cross my mind.

My normal 'tip' (fee) for an overnight is $600. Taking into account that I'd get 4 consecutive overnights and assuming that only the first night would be anywhere near strenuous, I told Denise she'd need to 'tip' me only $1,800 for the whole 4 days. The look on her face told me that she hadn't expected a volume discount. In contractor's language, I'd left $600 on the table! You'd think I'd be pissed at myself but I was happy as a fly on a manure pile -- Denise's libido was sure to peak the first night and even it didn't, no matter. I remembered her as being a nice pleasant fuck.

She 'suggested' that instead of having coffee at the Best Western coffee shop, we would stop for coffee somewhere along the way. I agreed with great gusto -- not that I had, or wanted to have, much choice in such matters.

Mindful of avoiding Baltimore traffic, she said we'd be going north on I 95 and then at Newark (Delaware, not New Jersey) take Route 1 south. The client being always right, I enthusiastically agreed that this route would be best. When we got out to her car, a newer model small silver Mercedes, she asked if I'd like to drive. Pleading unfamiliarity with the car and not mentioning that I had no driving license, I politely declined.

After an hour or so of bucking traffic on 95, I started looking at her maps and proposed that we get off the interstate and try US 40. She agreed and added that maybe it'd be easier to find a nice coffee shop. After all, along the interstate, it's hard to find anything but disgusting noisy chain fast food places.

In Elkton, we did find a shopping center coffee shop. After we took a table, she got around to telling me about the beach house where we were headed. It turned out that it belonged to a college sorority sister, Haley. Then Denise went on about how she and Haley had stayed in touch all the decades since college -- well not just stayed in touch -- no they remained real friends who didn't keep secrets from one another.

Interrupting her monologue, I asked if she had shared with Haley the problem she was having with her husband.

"Why of course. No reason to keep that back. Look Ralph, we just don't keep stuff back from one another."

I gave the rather patronizing reply: "It is really great to have friends that you can share your successes and problems with."

"Yeah, Haley knows all about how Mark is fucking his nurse instead of fucking me."

My brain was slowly getting into gear. "And does Haley know about me?"

Blushing slightly, Denise answered: "Oh yes of course. Actually she's really looking forward to meeting you."

That was the first hint that we wouldn't be alone at the beach house and I tried to sound enthusiastic: "So Haley will be there too?"

And then we were interrupted: "Hello, I'm Tamara. I'll be your server today."

We told her we'd just be having coffee and then I looked up at her and was surprised to see that the waitress was an elderly lady who looked to be at least 75. Surprise must have been written all over my face because Tamara noticed. "Yeah I am a little old to be a waitress, but that's what happens when our government gives companies too much freedom."

Seeing our puzzled looks, she went on: "My husband worked at Enron. When the big shots like Ken Lay started pushing employees to buy Enron shares, it looked like we couldn't lose. He cashed in all his other 401K shares and bought Enron shares. As the Enron share price went up and up, the home we were going to build down near Corpus Christi got bigger and bigger. Then it all went south. The Enron shares were worthless, we had no savings and no pension plan. My husband, Burt, couldn't take the shock and died of a heart attack. After burying him, I couldn't even afford my own apartment and was ready to go on welfare. But I was one of the lucky ones. My daughter Carrie offered me the basement apartment in her house down in Arundel. So I came back east and moved in. Then I was lucky enough to find this job."

Denise's face was a picture of compassion and probably mine too. We told her we were really sorry about what had happened to her.

Tamara came back with something I'd never expected from an old lady: "Well shit happens don't it? Burt and I got greedy and we had to pay for it. But you know what I don't understand? How people keep on voting for assholes who want to get rid of Sarbanes Oxley." Then she turned and left to go fetch our coffee.

I didn't have a clue as to who Sarbanes Oxley was so I kept my mouth shut and then got back to what Denise and I had been talking about before the waitress came: "Your friend Haley, the owner of the beach house where we're going -- she gonna to be there too?"

"Of course. When I told her about you, that's actually when she invited me -- us -- for the weekend. You'll like her. She's lots of fun and a really great cook."

The stress-free date began to look a little less stress-free. "And me? What does she know about me?"

"I met you in a shopping center coffee shop a couple months ago. You were doing some work on a house nearby. The coffee shop was crowded and we happened to share a table."

At least I wouldn't have to pretend to be something where I'd be in way over my head. "So what's my name?"

She gave me a slightly hurt look. "Why 'Ralph', of course. Ralph Iverson to be exact. Look, Ralph, I had to do it this way. You do understand, don't you."

I couldn't do much but say it was no problem, but I wanted to know more. "And so does Haley know that we, you know, that we are intimate?"

"Ralph, that sounds so proper and old fashioned. 'Intimate', my word! Yes of course I told her -- I told her that we're fucking. She needed to know so she could plan the sleeping arrangements."

I was curious as hell as to know what other intimate details Denise had shared with Haley, but I realized that knowing wouldn't change anything. I just started in on about how much I was looking forward to meeting Haley, swimming and generally just enjoying a long relaxing weekend at the Delaware shore.

After we got back out on Route 1, I couldn't get Tamara and her Enron-caused problems off my mind. Denise, no dummy, noticed. "Ralph, is something wrong?"

"That poor woman, the waitress Tamara -- her husband works all his life, they save and plan and in the end, thanks to a bunch of greedy fucking overpaid managers, she's widowed, broke and has to move in with her daughter. Don't that bother you?"

Then Denise came back with something that ended up teaching me a lesson. "Yeah that part bothers me but what she said afterwards really buoyed me up."

Now I was really flabbergasted. "What?"

"She knows there's a whole bunch of congressional assholes who either don't know what happened or if they do, they don't care if it happens again -- as long as campaign contributions keep coming in from the corporations and their overpaid managers. Most people don't know that, even some who got screwed. And lots of those who do know still find some reason to vote for the same assholes over and over again."

Now I was really confused. "So these congressional assholes -- how come they want to get rid of Sarbanes Oxley. What'd he do? Just because a guy's got a funny name, that's no reason to wanna kill him. For Christ's sake who'd name their kid Sarbanes anyway?"

From the way Denise took a deep breath, I knew I'd said something pretty stupid or pretty insensitive. When she pulled off the road and shut off the motor, I really wondered what was coming. "Ralph, Sarbanes-Oxley is not one guy -- it's two: Senator Paul Sarbanes of Maryland and Congressman Michael Oxley from Ohio to be exact. They wrote legislation to keep other companies from doing what Enron did. It passed both houses of Congress by massive majorities and Dubya signed it proudly. Problem is, now we got a bunch of corporate ass kissers in Washington who want to get rid of it.

I saw Denise in a new light and from then on, she became, in my eyes, more than just another cheated-on wife in need of a good fucking. And I slowly got over the surprise of another person being in the house where Denise and I were to have a weekend fuckfest.

Slatter Beach wasn't what I thought it would be. I'd expected one of those tacky coastal resorts with lots of neon lights and various crap and corruption. It's actually a several miles long strip of mostly older houses along Harbour Avenue - all fronting on the ocean. On the landward side of the street there was mostly swamp, but here and there were commercial buildings standing on places where the swamp had been filled in. The land around the homes seemed for the most part to be not more than several feet above sea level and I wondered if the home owners ever worried about rising sea levels.

Haley's house turned out to be one of the newer homes. We pulled in the driveway and hardly did we get the car doors opened when a smiling woman with strawberry blonde hair came out of house and welcomed us -- Haley. First impression? She made me think of Jane Fonda -- moved and talked like a 30-year old, hints of wrinkles like mid 40's.

"Oh I'm so glad to see you Denise. And Ralph, welcome to Slatter Beach. I've so much been looking forward to meeting you." And the gushy welcomes continued until she finally decided we might not want to spend the rest of the day in the driveway. "Okay, let's get you two settled in the upstairs guest room and then we can go for a swim."

We walked around to the ocean side of the house and went in through a door at ground level. Inside we found ourselves in what looked somewhat like a nicely furnished locker room. Haley announced it as the 'mudroom' and was very proud of it. Considering the beach location, I thought it should have been called the 'sandroom', but that's neither here nor there and why antagonize a host. And what a mudroom it was - a big walk-in shower with a rain head, sauna, some nice comfy chairs, a set of shelves with lots of towels and remarkably, a massage table! Along one wall there were clothing hooks and even a few lockers without locks. Haley explained that we could leave our clothes in the mudroom while swimming and our swim gear there when we weren't. I wondered if Haley would be in the mudroom changing when Denise and I changed into and out of our swim gear.

The guest room had a queen bed and its own bathroom. That together with what I'd so far seen of the house told me that Haley wasn't doing too badly. I wondered where the money was coming from. Denise hadn't said what she had studied in college or what she did for a living or who she had for a husband -- if any.

When Haley left, Denise and I got out our swim gear and stripped. It appeared to me that she'd dropped a few pounds since our first date, but what really caught my eye was that she'd trimmed her pubic hair to a nearly perfect triangle and shortened it overall. I couldn't help but compliment her.

"Thanks so much Ralph. I'm glad you like the way my pussy looks. Your new hair style looks great too." Coming close to me, she reached down and took hold of my shaft. "And this looks great too, hasn't changed a bit. But you got a pubic trim too. My God, you look even bigger than before." Then she bent down and gave the head a fleeting kiss. "We'll get back to this later. Haley's waiting for us."

Before we went back downstairs, I faked having to piss so I could go to the bathroom and apply a cold washcloth to my threatening erection. Haley, already changed, was waiting for us in the mudroom and pointed out the where we could hang our clothes and the shelf where our towels were. I wondered if the three of us would be showering together -- the walk in shower sure was big enough.

It was obvious that Haley had taken better care of her body than Denise had -- she couldn't have been carrying even a pound extra and had a nice female figure, albeit her breasts weren't anything like Denise's handful pluses. She proudly wore a bikini whereas Denise, wisely enough, wore a one piece.

I hadn't been swimming in what seemed like years. Fortunately though swimming's like bike riding, one never completely unlearns it. The three of us made our way out past where the surf was breaking. After we'd swam about for a while. Denise told me that she and Haley were going in to sun themselves. The way she said it, I couldn't help but to understand that I should stay in the water awhile longer. Obviously the two women had some stuff to talk about -- stuff that I wasn't supposed to hear. That was fine with me so I just swam some more and then played around letting the waves hammer me. Ever so often I'd look toward the beach and see Denise and Haley sitting side by side on a big beach towel, deeply engaged in conversation and occasionally giggling. Finally Denise waved for me to join them on the beach.

I sat down next to Denise and the three of us gabbed about this and that. So far Haley hadn't asked me anything about myself and I was happy about that. It's always more comfortable not to have to tell lies.

Although late afternoon, the sun was still hot and after a while, the three of us went for another dip to cool out. This time Denise frolicked close to me and 'accidently' brushed my crotch a few times. I warned her that I might get an erection that might not go away when we got out of the water. She pooh-poohed this. "You think Haley doesn't know about erections? Besides I wouldn't mind showing you off and you've got lots to show off." That a woman might want to show off her boyfriend's erection to a girlfriend had never occurred to me. Well, live and learn. I thought about it a little and then it then occurred to me that guys like to show off sexy girlfriends or wives to their buddies. Well, not all men. Moslem men put tents over their women so their buddies won't be tempted.

We frolicked some more and I got even harder. I pulled her close and put her hand over my crotch. "See what I mean Denise. Now what?"

We looked around and saw that Haley had gone back to the beach. Seeing us look her way, she shouted out that she'd be going in, shower and then look to getting some drinks ready. "See you two on the deck -- say in a half-hour or so." So it wasn't going to be three in the shower.

Denise moved her hand inside my trunks. "I could do a better job if you dropped 'em." I pulled the trunks down to my knees and she started jerking me. Then she changed her mind. "Ralph, I got a better idea. We're gonna shower in the mudroom and that walk-in shower is big enough for both of us."

When Denise and I came into the mudroom, Haley, obviously already showered and now wearing a robe, was just leaving. I was still halfway hard and unable to hide the bulge. Haley pretended not to notice and I pretended not to notice that she noticed.

"I'm going up to get dressed and make the drinks. Take your time showering." I didn't miss the wink she gave Denise when she said that. "See you on the deck in say, 30 minutes or so. Just don't let me rush you." I noticed another wink as she turned to leave.

Denise and I scrambled out of our swimwear and went in the big walk-in shower stall. At first we just let the hot water from the rain head cascade over us and wash away the sand and salt. Then Denise took the initiative by taking hold of my hard shaft. "God but it's good to get hold of this again." Then she went to her knees and kissed and licked the head. Getting up, she handed me a bar of soap and said, "Soap me Ralph, soap me all over!"

Denise has boobs that just beg to be soaped, fondled, nosed, tit fucked -- you name it - anything normal or kinky that a lover of big tits could ever dream up or just happen to do. The thing about Denise that makes playing with her tits extra rewarding is that she really likes having her boobs get lots of attention. Notwithstanding that, I didn't start with her tits. No, I started soaping her back, then her hips, then her ass cheeks, then her arms and neck, then up and down her legs -- always stopping well short of her crotch. When all that got her panting and swooning, I started giving her melons the attention they deserved. After renewing the soap on my hands, I put them to her rib cage and slid them up and hefted both boobs at the same time. My hands sliding over her nipples brought out an extra swoon and I went on up to where the fingertips of both my hands were in her cleavage. Then I went back down and alternated between playing with her nipples and hefting the boobs as a whole. It didn't take long until through my erection, which was against the small of her back, I could feel her hips wriggling. I dropped both hands down to her hips and rubbed there before moving toward the middle.