Stormy Weather Ch. 03

"Are you hungry? Of course you are. If I ask and answer that does not count as one of my questions, does it?"

"No, it doesn't, she said, but the question when you asked me if it counted, does. My turn. And yes, I am hungry, feed me."

The restaurant was quaint and not busy at all. They had some clam chowder, always seems like something you should at the coast even if the clams probably came from a can. It was good and the bread was better. Neither Jack nor Cynthia drank liquor so with clear heads they left.

"Let's walk on the beach, Cynthia said, it's cold, dark and wet, a little rainy and we will get soaked. That's what I want to do."

"Let's go, a little pneumonia never killed anyone. Wait, I need to rethink that."

The sand was hard from the rain, it was dark and the only light was a large spot light that shone over the sand where the steps were that led back to the inn. Knowing where they were going made it feel less threading. It was early November and the thundering season was over. The wind was strong and blew the rain making it worse than it really was. They went close to the water, the tide was coming in and a couple of times, Jack took Cynthia's hand to help her, or at least it seemed like that.

Through drenched after an half an hour, they headed to the steps leading to the inn. It was good to get inside. Phyllis was at the front desk.

"Gracious, you two are soaked. Mrs. Roland, did you and you son have a good time," she asked looking directly at Cynthia with a disapproving glare.

"Wonderful," Cynthia replied, "you double bitch," she said under her breath.

"As they were walking up the stairs, Jack quietly, said, "Just what is a 'double bitch,' Mother?"

"You are always asking questions out of turn, son!"

The got to the room looking like the proverbial wet rats. It was about eight o'clock.

The fire had kept the room very warm and cozy. Cynthia said, "I need a shower to get warm and then I am changing into my pj's. You want to go first?"

"No, you go first and that, my dear lady, was your question, my turn."

"Humph! I'll try and hurry," she said, starting to take off her wet clothes on the way the bathroom. She grabbed her pajamas on the way. Jack was standing in from of the fireplace, getting warm and gloating over the fact he thought he won that round."

The warm water felt good as it cascaded down Cynthia's body. It felt good to get cold and even better warming up. She stood naked, once again, in front of the mirror as she blew dried her hair. "Not bad," she thought. Hair dried, she picked up her pajamas. She had grabbed the light blue satin ones. She stepped into the bottoms. They fit her exactly right, smooth across her mid section and the legs flared slightly at the bottom. The top was made for large bosomed women. It had darts that gave her more room in the bust area but them tapered in so her waist was evident. She buttoned all for buttons. Then undid the top one; she could see about two inches of cleavage as she was standing there. She liked to tightness across her chest and knew that if her nipple became hard, it would be evident. Maybe she thought she should have not warmed up quite so much.

Her clothes neatly hung up to dry; she went out to the room where Jack was still standing in front of the fireplace. He had a magazine in his hand.

"All yours," she said.

Jack did not take as long. He put on some red plaid flannel bottoms and a red thermal top. He adjusted himself and thought, cold weather was not his friend. He too, neatly hung his clothes to dry. Two peas in a pod, he thought.

Cynthia took the chair to the right as she was seated. She did that on purpose. If Jack looked at her, she wanted him to see whatever he may be looking for. While she was in the shower, she unbuttoned and buttoned the third button at least five times, trying to decide. At the last moment, she became very conservative. Two is sufficient she thought to herself.

Jack came and sat in the chair next to her. The small lamp on the table in between the chairs emitted enough light to read by, but it did not fill the room. The view outside the windows was magnificent. The spotlight illuminated the beach and you could see the whitecaps as the stormy ocean continued to roll in.

They both sat there in the solitude, reading, Jack looking at Cynthia more often. Once in awhile she would be looking at him at the same time and they both smile just a little. It was about eleven when Jack stood up and walked to the French Doors. Cynthia just watched. He opened the door and the sound of the wind and the ocean became louder. The cold did not bother him. Jack thought about living in an area where there was never quiet. And yet, he knew more about sound than most people. He was still amazed by it all. Cynthia got up and went to the door and stood by him. The cold felt good against her. The satin of her pajamas pushed against her skin and she could feel her nipples becoming hard. She saw her reflection in the door window and knew that Jack would also be able to see them. She didn't care, in fact, she wished he would look. Jack looked to his left. Cynthia's reflection was in the window, he noticed how free she looked and when he gazed at the mirrored image of her breasts saw what Cynthia had hope he would see. Jack thought to himself how large they were. He felt a rise in his pajamas, and didn't care now, if Cynthia knew. They stood there a few minutes more and Jack said, "I think I am going to turn in."

"Me too, she said. Shall we leave the door open?"

"Why not? If it gets too cold, I can close it. That's the way the sleep in Switzerland, freezing outside, open the windows and let the comforters keep you warm."

"I better use the bathroom first," Jack said as he walked away. Once in the bathroom he was glad to relieve himself of both the reason he came in there and the stiffness of his cock started to subside.

When he came back into the room, Cynthia was in the bed on the right and Jack crawled into the one on the left. The room was dark save the glow of the fireplace they had left burning. The room smelled fresh from the cold sea air the permeated their area.

They both were on their sides, looking at each other, as they lay there. They did not speak for a long time, just looked at one another. Finally Cynthia spoke, "Night, Jack."

"Good night, Cynthia. Thanks for coming with me." Jack's eyes closed.

Jack opened his eyes. The French door was shut. Jack did not remember doing it, so he thought Cynthia must have. He looked over at her bed. The covers were pulled back and she was not there. It was only then he heard the shower going. He looked at the clock on the table, it read six thirteen. It was still dark outside but Jack cold see daylight had just started. Lying in bed once his eyes opened was something he could not do. So he got up, made his bed, made Cynthia's and went to the window. The storm had subsided and it looked like it may be an acceptable Friday. He sat in the chair Cynthia had sat in last night, waiting for her to finish in the bathroom. Now he had to go to the toilet so he wished she would hurry up.

"Good morning. We're killing daylight!," she said with her best western accent.

"I'll hurry then. Far be it for me to not the day's work done because of my slothfulness."

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

Jack was ready in about twenty minutes. He looked at Cynthia and though how elegant she looked this Friday morning. She was wearing black trousers with a white blouse covered by a light green sweater. He could not help notice that her breasts were not flat against her chest as often they were. He felt stirrings.

With jackets they headed downstairs. A man was at the front desk, greeting them politely as they left the inn.

Jack opened the door of the Lexus and Cynthia got in. As they started to drive away Jack said, "Ok, boss, where are we going?"

"I thought you were in charge of this trip?"

"You sure pick and choose when you want to be in charge, young lady. Never fear, I have a plan."

"It better include breakfast."

"Whatever is going to keep your body looking the way it does," Jack blurted out. "I'm sorry, I just meant I really like the way you look, I mean; I think you are very attractive."

"Thank you, I guess."

"It was a compliment, I love your figure."

"Thank you then. Now feed me so I can keep it."

They pulled into a restaurant on highway 101 whose parking lot was full.

Cynthia looked at the sign, 'Pig and Pancake.' "Okay, come on, piggy, let's get to the trough."

Breakfast was good and they South down the coast. Jack stopped at every monument or place where there was to look. The weather had a break so they were not getting drenched and rain started, they just went farther South. Around noon they stopped at a famous cheese factory and took the tour. They had both been there many times, but it was always fun sampling all the cheeses and paying six dollars for a two dollar ice cream cone.

"Why do they charge so much here for everything?" Cynthia asked.

"Protect their retailers."

"Oh."

The trip back was just as much fun and they got back to the inn about four-thirty, a good time to get a little rest and ready for the community theater.

As they got out of the car, Cynthia asked Jack, "When did you plan going back home, Jack?"

"Whenever you want, you're in charge of that. Our reservations have us leaving tomorrow."

They walked into the lobby. It was empty except for Phyllis who was behind the counter. Cynthia walked up to the desk, while Jack just stood back.

"We would like to stay one more night and leave Sunday. Is that possible?"

Phyllis gave Cynthia a disapproving look. "Yes, I can do that."

"Thank you. And Phyllis, I am not Jack's mother, he is not my son.

Phyllis knew exactly what Cynthia meant by her comment and looked at Cynthia not knowing what she was going to say next, so she spoke first, "I'm sorry, I just assumed. Please accept my apology."

"Accepted."

"Come Jack, darling, Phyllis said Sunday check out would be fine."

Half way up the stairs Jack quietly said, "Is there such a thing as a triple bitch?"

"Yes there, is, and you are going to the theater tonight with one!"

The show started at seven and they thought they would leave about six-thirty as it was only three minutes from the inn.

Jack changed into slacks and put on his sport coat. He passed on the tie, until they got ready to leave, when he saw Cynthia.

Wearing her black cocktail dress she looked stunning. Her silver hair glistened again the black. If was scalloped in the front and v-cut right down the cleavage line. Her breasts were large and full and the dress was cut so it was tight at the waist accentuating both her bust line and her hips. Black shimmering nylons graced her legs with black shoes. She wore a diamond pendant around her neck. She could have been going to the Metropolitan Opera as well as to a coastal community theater.

Jack put on his tie.

They arrived at the theater and it looked like it would be about two-thirds full. It turned out to be a modernized version of "Two Men of Verona." As they were chatting before the play Cynthia asked, "So are you really familiar with this play?"

"You think I am not well read? Love, infidelity, deceit and resolve are the standard of my reading. And Cynthia, I am no Proteus."

She said, "Good," never thinking he was but understanding she would not ask more of him about the play. It was obvious he knew it far too well, revealed in one short sentence.

The play began and somewhere in the first act Jack reached over and held Cynthia's hand. Their hands rested on her thigh. They sat that way until intermission. At one point when their hands shifted the back of Jack's hand felt something hard on Cynthia's leg. He wandered, but then realized it was a garter snap. He began to feel movement between his legs.

At intermission they mingled and talked to some of the other patrons. Cynthia was by far the best dressed and absolutely looked comfortable in her attire. People were from all walks of life, mostly locals in the winter months, but all friendly.

The lights went down for the final acts. It was not long before Cynthia reached over and took Jack's hand, she moved it back over to her thigh. A short time past and Cynthia released her hand from Jacks. She was just shifting the way she was sitting. Jack did not move his hand, but left it on Cynthia's thigh, palm down. Cynthia moved what seem to be just a little closer to him. When they applauded before the final act, Jack's hands were back in his lap. He felt Cynthia's hand come over and she put it on his thigh, more on the inside. Jack moved to accommodate her, but found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the play.

The play was enjoyable, but not the highlight for either.

"Where to now?" Jack queried.

"You're now in charge, Jack."

As they entered the inn, the lobby was vacant, they headed for their room; they had held hands since they left the theater, including in the car.