A Game of Delayed Gratification Pt. 01

I was a college sophomore with a rare day off from my summer job, so when my girlfriend invited me to join her and her mother on their pontoon boat for the afternoon I eagerly accepted.

Wear your swimsuit, Pamela said, so we can go in the water when we get hot. By "hot," I knew my girlfriend meant "uncomfortably warm," but my horny mind added sexual overtones.

In the nine weeks we'd gone out I failed to get even to first base. My parents, religious zealots, helicoptered over me 24/7 which meant no girlfriends, no dating—not even casually going out. As a result I wasn't sure how to navigate with Pamela. She liked that I never pressured her to slip off her panties. Although that's exactly what I wanted her to do. I just didn't know how to get her to do it.

Pamela and her mother were exiting their car as I pulled into the marina where their boat was docked. Pamela, in cut-offs and sweatshirt, ran over to give me a hug and kiss that, for the first time, included some tongue. Maybe this would be my lucky day! I tried to imagine the swimsuit she had on. With her mother in tow, it probably wouldn't be the one I'd pictured this morning when I masturbated: a sexy bikini that showed off some T & A. Whatever she wore, however, would reveal more skin than I'd seen to date.

We held hands walking back to Pamela's mother whom I'd met once before. A beach dress covered her from neck to ankles. She had a youthful, attractive face. I'd forgotten she stood two inches taller than Pamela.

"Hello, Phillip!" she said. "Nice to see you."

I helped Pamela and her mother haul some coolers and bags of groceries onto the boat. They were having a party that weekend when I'd be working. While they put things away I took in the differences between the two women. Pamela didn't share any features with her mother who was thin, dark skinned and wore her brown hair short. Pamela, milky white skin, let her reddish-brown hair cover her shoulders. I liked that Pamela had some flesh on her bones. Her mother looked no more than ten years older than Pamela, who was twenty.

The boat's size and layout exceeded my expectations, having several sectioned-off compartments—a kitchenette, a sleeping area with air mattress. Even a portable shower. A few scattered lounge chairs lined the boat's stern. I'd imagined something much smaller and less fancy.

With everything stowed, Pamela's mother asked what we wanted to drink and then waved us to sit down.

As I started for the lounge chairs, Pamela steered me to an oversized loveseat in a cozy area next to the kitchenette.

"We'll be more comfy here," she said leaning in for another kiss. Unlike the first one, her playful tongue explored my mouth thoroughly and eventually my cock grew uncomfortable pressed against the confines of my swimsuit and shorts. For the first time in nine weeks, she had me approaching the point of no return. Fortunately she pulled away before I made a mess of things. "Be right back. Going to help mom," she said.

As she walked off, I took a deep breath and imagined her in a bikini with those shapely legs. Giggling came from the kitchen and then Pamela and her mother appeared with drinks and snacks, white wine for the ladies, a beer for me.

They placed the food on a large ottoman in front of the loveseat and sat on either side of me, her mother on my right.

"It's so good to see you, Phillip," her mother said, placing a hand on my thigh. "I'm glad you could come. Pamela tells me how hard you're working this summer."

She put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me toward her, keeping me in a sitting embrace. At first this felt awkward, her mother getting my discomfort at being so close to her dissipated and I was able to relax, even enjoy her perfume. Meanwhile Pamela scooted against my left side and began attacking my earlobe with her tongue. I couldn't believe how aroused that got me.

This whole afternoon was unfolding in a way I hadn't anticipated. Starting with Pamela showing me much more affection. As for her mother, quite frankly she behaved more like an older sister or girlfriend. I sensed a conspiracy brewing.

"You've got a keeper here, Pamela," her mother said, showering my neck with wet kisses. She flicked her tongue against my lips, then withdrew her arm from my shoulder, but kept her hip pressed against mine.

We snacked, drank and engaged in the awkward talk of people who don't know each other that well. The chatter between Pamela and her mother, however, convinced me there was something afloat. Said by someone who until two months ago had never kissed a girl, who hadn't a clue how to get one into bed.

"So," Pamela's mother said after a moment's silence. "I'm going to take a dip in the lake. Anyone care to join?"

I let her rise first, and then as I prepared to follow, Pamela grabbed my arm. "Stay with me," she whispered.

"I heard that, young lady," Pamela's mother said, chortling. "Well, I guess I'll leave you lovebirds to your own devices. You don't mind if I..."

Before she finished the sentence she'd flipped the sundress over her head, setting it next to me on the loveseat.

My jaw dropped as I took in her black halter top, loosely tied in front which minimally hid her shapely breasts. The low cut V-front bikini bottom not only got me ogling her prominent mons pubis but drooling over her youthful, trim torso. This body did not belong to a forty-some year-old.

She responded with a bemused smile to my lecherous staring.

"So you like?"

Pamela laughed as her mother swayed her hips to imaginary island music, finishing with her legs apart, hips thrust squarely in my face.

"I haven't seen that one before," Pamela cried. "It's absolutely gorgeously sexy on you."

I felt compelled to say something, but my mouth had stopped working. I nodded like an idiot and prayed not too much drool was crawling down my chin.

"My turn," Pamela said, a touch of competitiveness in her voice.

It took five seconds to ditch her sweatshirt and shorts and then—ta da!—she presented herself in a striking aqua Brazilian number with thong cut back bottom and a string triangle-cupped halter top. Her body far exceeded what I saw while mentally undressing her earlier. Her shapely legs drew my attention to a three-inch cloth triangle, which almost covered her pubes. When she turned around, two firm and well-formed cheeks greeted my eyes. The bright halter top left nothing to the imagination. Her perfectly shaped breasts, slightly smaller than her mother's, were tipped with prominent nipples.

Raw, animal lust prevented me from speaking. All I could do was drool. Both women looked at me and then grinned as they embraced. I felt the odd man out as they giggled and then Pamela's mother whispered something to her daughter.

They kissed, and I held my breath as it turned passionate, culminating in an open-mouthed affair which, after overcoming my surprise and shock, aroused my cock to a new level of hardness. Finally, the women separated and Pamela sat next to me.

"Well," Pamela's mother said, sensing my confusion and making sure I noticed her longing gaze at my arousal with a glint in her eye. "She does tend to take your breath away, doesn't she?"

I nodded like an idiot.

Pamela put an arm on my shoulder. "We're more like, I guess, good friends—girlfriends—than like mother-daughter. Ever since my father..." Her face darkened and she looked down.

"Another time, Pamela," her mother said. And with that the mother sashayed across the deck to the stern and disappeared into the water.