It's Another Family Tradition

For our final night out, we drove to mainland Brunswick to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall restaurant, where we were told the best Low Country Boil was served. For those who are unfamiliar with this dish, it contains potatoes, half-ears of corn, shrimp, Anduoille sausage, and some white fish, all boiled and simmered with Cajun-like spices. Eating these goodies is not a tidy spectacle, but there is nothing tastier with cold draft beer. The restaurant also served wedges of warm home-made pecan pie topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Like the song from ‘Carousel,’ our hearts were warm, and our bellies were full after that meal. As we departed, the waitress told us about a nearby roadhouse that had a live local Zydeco band, where we drank more beer, stomped our feet, and learned some Cajun lyrics.

It was after midnight when we were back in our hotel room, and all three of us somehow understood that our feelings for sex for that night was ambivalent. None of us knew quite how to draw this weekend to a fitting close. Finally, Mary Pat said the words, as she symbolically unclasped her ankle bracelet and placed it in her purse.

“This weekend has been something very special for me,” she said. “I came with the expectation of just enjoying good times and recreational sex, but you, Sissy, and you, Sam, have made it more than that. I think that I’m going to start bawling like a baby, because we’ll never be together like this again. I love you both so much.”

I kissed Mary Pat on her cheek, tasting the salty tear that had rolled down it. “I think I understand what you are feeling right now, Mary Pat, and I feel the same way. This weekend has been extra special for me, too, and likewise Sissy, I’m certain. I suggest that we just undress and cuddle together under the quilt. No more sex. Let’s each of us close our eyes and imagine that we are back together with our spouse, with whom we share our whole lives. At the same time, we can feel how closely bonded we are to each other at this moment. That will always be one of our secret treasures.”

And that is how our evening ended. I lay between Mary Pat and Sissy, all of us naked. Their warm, soft bodies, with their beautiful curves, felt wonderful to me. One by one, we fell asleep, gently stroking and touching the body next to us, yet each thinking of someone else, who belonged to us, and who completed our lives.

Monday morning, we were silent and introspective while we re-packed our suitcases before checking out. It was as if we each had something to say to the others, but we couldn’t find the right words. The Powell Family Scramble of 2004 had come to an end. Never again would the three of us share times together like these. Our sexual appetites for variety and new experiences had been satisfied, but we knew that it was time to resume to our chosen lives with our permanent spouses.

It could have been a very long and bittersweet ride back to Augusta, with the three of us feeling the way that we did. Fortunately, however, Sissy spotted a billboard on the side of I-95, just south of Darien. It advertised a ‘Nude Café – We Bare All.’ The idea of a topless coffee shop was too much of a curiosity, and we stopped to gape and ogle. Somehow, the sight of virtually naked women serving us coffee and heated Danish sweet rolls at 10:30 on a Monday morning touched our silly bones, breaking the spell of melancholy that had captured us. For the remainder of the ride home, we could chat, laugh, and feel relaxed and refreshed.

I dropped Sissy off at Mary Pat’s house, kissed them both affectionately, and drove alone to my house. By the time I had unpacked and started the laundry, I heard a car pull into our driveway. It was a Lexus SUV, which I didn’t recognize. Callie stepped out on the right side and retrieved her suitcase from the back. I must admit that I winced a little when I saw her lean back into the car, obviously giving someone a goodbye kiss. She waved and watched as the car backed down the driveway and sped off. I wondered what she was thinking, as she walked up to the front door.

When she saw me standing in the hallway, Callie squealed with delight and ran into my arms.

“Oh, Sam, it’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed. “I was thinking about you all the way back. Well, maybe not quite all the time. Now, remember the rules, sugar – you don’t tell, and I don’t tell.”

She then grinned at me with that special look for me. “But I’ll bet you had some real good times, didn’t you?”

I hugged and kissed her with as much tenderness and warmth as I knew how. “Yes, I did, Cat. The Powell women and their traditions are truly something special. But you will always be the most special Powell to me.”

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I hope you enjoyed the playtime of Sam, Sissy, and Mary Pat. I appreciate and value feedback and comments from readers. Tell me what you liked, and feel free to suggest improvements. That’s the only way authors can develop and improve. Canadagander