Doc and the Porn Star Ch. 03-05

Jasmine had been looking at me with increasing curiosity. "This must be a really crazy question or two."

I took a deep breath, "Jasmine, the master bedroom has a large walk-in closet. The small room contains all of my late-wife's clothes, coats, suits, and shoes. Would you be interested in trying to see if any of it fits you and, if so, accepting the clothing as yours? If you're not, would you be willing to help me clean out the closet and donate or dispose of her things?"

Jasmine had been hanging on my every word. She suddenly laughed, "That's all? You didn't have to get all worried about my response. Yes, I'd love to see if there's something there I could wear. Thank you. I'm even honored that you'd be willing to share her things with me. I don't think it's weird any more than if I bought something somebody else wore at a thrift shop or consignment store."

She stood and said, "Show me."

I led her into the master bedroom and opened the door to Edie's closet. A musty odor escaped that proved I didn't open the door too often. "Don't worry about the odor," Jasmine said, "that'll dissipate quickly if we leave the door open. Do you have a fan we could blow fresh air into the room?" I did and we set that up.

Jasmine quickly stripped her clothing away until all she wore was one of her new thongs that I'd bought her. She started going through every item of clothing on the hangers or nicely folded on the shelves. For over an hour she was like a woman possessed.

Every minute or two Jasmine would squeal with delight as she found a new item of clothing that not only fit her, but also something she delighted in. She made one rack in the closet for clothing that didn't fit her and that couldn't be properly tailored. There were a few items that she just didn't care for, too.

I urged her to be more selective and that if she didn't like the style or color of something to just reject it. I don't think her methods changed. She liked most of Edie's clothing. A few items got set aside for dry cleaning, but most were declared 'ready to wear'.

The selection of shoes didn't work so well. Only about half of Edie's robust collection of shoes survived scrutiny, and the rejects were mostly because of fit issues. The styles that survived were mostly sneakers, sling backs, and mules. Those that would normal fit a foot snugly just didn't match with Jasmine's feet.

Jasmine asked about the drawers. I gestured for her to look. The bras were all too small; Jasmine was considerably more endowed than Edie. Some of the lace thongs and underwear were useful, too; but Jasmine rejected the 'granny' panties and a few other things. Nylons and panty hose were set aside to try when the occasion warranted. Edie's sock selection needed a complete renovation, and so most went in the trash because the elastics were shot.

Jasmine danced around the master bedroom holding up a few new outfits in front of her and looking in the large mirror. She declared, "You have to take me someplace where I can wear all of this stuff. This is like discovering a treasure of the best clothing in the world, and then not having any place to wear them."

I nodded. "Plan on going out to dinner. I'll take you to the Yacht Club."

Jasmine gawked at me and teased, "You belong to a YACHT CLUB? Holy shit. I've discovered the Mother Lode." She blanched, "I hope you don't think I'm after your money. You keep showering me with all these riches -- the clothes, the car, expensive meals, and living in this mansion. I could be just as happy going back to living in my car providing one thing was present."

"What?" I asked naïvely.

Jasmine came to me and hugged me. "You silly. The riches are nice, but you're the best thing of all. If the rest went away, I'd still want YOU."

I hadn't set foot in the Yacht Club since Edie had died. I still paid the dues mainly so I could keep my boat there and not worry about it, but I just hadn't been using the club's extensive facilities or the boat for that matter. Edie and I'd had many friends in the membership, but I figured that most of those had lapsed over time. I'd seen and waved at a few of those friends as I drove through the neighborhood, but I hadn't sought anybody out. The few that had sought me out were always trying to match me up with some widow or divorcee, and that hadn't seemed appealing to me, so I avoided the invitations. They finally stopped.

Jasmine drove us to the Club in what was now 'her' little white BMW with the top down. The drive was only a half-mile. She was dressed to the nines in one of Edie's sleek cocktail dresses. The dress did things for Jasmine that it hadn't done the one time I could recall Edie wearing it.

For one, the dress had a plunging neckline. Edie had small boobs, so there wasn't much cleavage to display. That was not the case for Jasmine. She was stacked, and while still within the bounds of propriety, the dress was just barely legal. A patient observer would hope that some sudden turn or twist of Jasmine's body would throw one or the other of her breasts into the public eye, and if they were lucky both of them.

Moreover, Jasmine had longer legs than Edie. All of Edie's dresses came to mid-thigh or higher on Jasmine. That revealed a lot of leg, and often put the hem of a dress dangerously high and near her pussy. Again, a patient observer of the dress she wore that night might station themselves with a line of sight and hope for flashes of the Promised Land.

Jasmine found some really sexy shoes with four inch heels that also helped make her legs look like a million bucks. I was chuckling because the Club rarely saw such a youthful woman, and one genuinely worthy of such lust. I often joked that the average age of the club members was in the nineties. Edie and I had considered ourselves some of the youngsters in the club.

We strolled into the Club from the parking lot as I told her about the place and its membership. That month there was a display of fine arts that we meandered through looking and commenting on the various paintings and sculptures put on display by some of the members.

The maître d' met us, confirmed my reservations, and escorted us to a table by the windows that overlooked the Club's marina. People were still returning from a day of sailing, so outside was bustling with nautical activity as well as refueling for the powerboats.

I pointed out various features of some of the boats, promising yet another surprise or two after dinner. She found the whole scene exciting and interesting. She had never been in a yacht club and only seen pictures in magazines.

We got some cocktails, and before we'd even had a sip, my old friends Marge and Henry Stoker came by the table. They greeted me and I introduced them to Jasmine. She'd stood, nearly at attention, to meet the couple that were obviously curious about Jasmine, who she was, how I happened to be escorting such a 'hot' woman, how we'd met, and so on. They also expressed their hopes that I'd be back on the social circuit soon.

Jasmine and I had agreed beforehand that rather than say that I'd recognized one of my favorite porn stars in the grocery store and struck up a conversation, that we'd just say we struck up a conversation at Starbucks over some coffee, and developed a close friendship.

When Marge pushed about me being ready to socialize again, I mentioned that WE were always up for that. I emphasized the plural and made sure she got the message. I wanted her to know that Jasmine and I were a couple beyond the dinner we were there to enjoy. I even moved close to Jasmine and held her hand, a move that in the Club was tantamount to carving a heart and your two initials in it on the Club door. I tried to recall the old custom of posting of banns of marriage.

Marge and Henry went off and joined a larger table of friends. Knowing all of them as I did, I felt certain that they were all well informed that Jasmine and I were an event in process. We ate in peace for most of our meal.

Several other couples from my past also stopped by to say hello, perhaps to discover something about my gorgeous and young dinner companion, and express hopes to see me more frequently. I made sure to use 'We' and 'Our' in most of the reply sentences.

In a moment of repose over dinner, Jasmine leaned over her plate and asked in a quiet and somewhat surprised tone, "You aren't ashamed of me?"

"Good grief, no. Why would you even think that?"

"Because I'm a slut, and a fairly well known one, at that. You do know that sooner or later, one of your friends is going to recognize me just the way you did."

I smiled, "And what do you think I would say should they challenge you in some way?"

Jasmine shook her head.

"I don't like to lie, and I also don't like people that place arbitrary value judgments on the truth, especially when they don't know the person. I would try to smile and say something about how good you are in your avocation."

"You'd admit to your friends that I did porn?" She sounded amazed.

"Sure. What's the worst thing that'll happen?"

Jasmine thought. "They renounce their friendship with you, and get many others to do the same. Maybe this Club kicks you out as a member for associating with persons of questionable morals."

"Did you break the law when you made the videos?" I asked her.

"No."

I shrugged, "So, you aren't a felon. You're simply my girlfriend and lover. As such, you are afforded every right and privilege I choose to defer upon you, in addition to all the others you get by living here as you do. THEY have no voice in that process. If their friendships are that shallow, I wish them pleasant goodbyes."

I snickered and added, "Of course, all the men will wish they were in my shoes. I can imagine them thinking, 'Holy shit, Old Bob is shacked up with a real live porn star. I bet they do sexual things together that would turn the world upside down. I wonder if I could get my wife ... Nah!"

Jasmine smiled, "Well, for you that could be arranged. Just wait until we get home."

I teased Jasmine, "Of course, we could have some fun with all of this. Why don't you head off to the ladies room and remove your panties and then present them to me back here at the table. Don't make a big show of it. Our age difference alone is enough to make you highly appealing to most of the men in here."

Jasmine smiled and excused herself from the table. She returned about five minutes later and pushed a small wad of damp panties into my hand. I glanced at the black lacy thong, took a whiff of the beautiful aromas it contained, and put it in my jacket pocket. Jasmine kissed me and then sat down again. I knew that many of the men had been surreptitiously watching Jasmine, thus I would have bet that they'd seen the transaction. It wouldn't require a degree in rocket science to figure out what she'd given me either.

Jasmine and I finished our dinners and were enjoying coffee at the table. We'd both pulled away from the table slightly so we could cross our legs. Mine were nowhere near as interesting as hers, especially as she carefully placed one leg over the other and flashed her shaved pussy. Well, it wasn't completely shaved; she had a little runway left to make her look a little sexier -- if that were possible. Although the flash of her pussy was less than a second, I felt certain that at least two of the males strategically positioned at another table got eyefuls of pussy beneath the short dress.

After coffee I signed the chit, and then we walked outside. Jasmine hung on my arm in a loving gesture. We walked down the large circular staircase to the lower level that allowed us to go outside where the boats were docked. Three men were talking and looking up at us as we descended. The skirt to Jasmine's dress was short enough that with a little imagination the men could see up her dress to her nether region.

I greeted the men; I knew two of them. They were all over themselves about being sure they also got introduced to Jasmine. I wondered if they thought she was my daughter ... or granddaughter. We chatted a moment and moved on.

We walked along the path by the seawall until we came to a large and sleek looking boat -- the largest in the small marina. One spotlight on a nearby pole gave the boat a gracious and warm appearance. I stopped and commented to Jasmine. "This looks like a really nice boat. Why don't we take a peek?"

She balked slightly wondering whether it was all right to do what we were about to do. There were a few lights on in the boat suggesting that someone might be aboard. I escorted her along side the craft to where there was a small gangplank with a handrail leading onto the deck of the craft. I went across and reached back for her. I didn't want her to fall in her heels.

Jasmine came my way but protested, "Are you sure this is all right? I mean won't somebody get mad at us if we trespass? Do you know the owners? Wow, this boat is fabulous. This has money written all over it."

The boat was a SeaRay 550 -- fifty-five feet of water-based luxury. The craft was five years old and had been one of the diversions I bought to entertain Edie in our retirement. We never got to take the cruises we'd planned. We did take a few long trips, but nothing like down and back up the Caribbean islands, or up the east coast to Maine or even Nova Scotia.

Jasmine suddenly whirled around and faced me. We were standing in front of the 'cockpit' for the boat, with electronic instruments, throttles, and steering in front of us. I had opened the door so she could go below. She challenged, "You own this boat, don't you?"

I smiled and nodded, "I do."

"Hooooolllllyyyyy ssssshhhhhiiiiittttt!"

I opened the door that led to the slightly lower interior. "I think you might do better without the high heels." Jasmine shed the heels and then followed me into the craft's living room. The shine, chrome, and comfort rivaled my house. I saw it through new eyes. I showed her the galley, and then down deeper into the yacht to some of the sleeping quarters and the full bathrooms.

I gave a running commentary about the boat. "Eight people can sleep comfortably aboard and not overpower the ship -- twelve or more in a pinch if we rearrange the eating area opposite the galley and the living room."

Jasmine crooned as she ran a finger along some of the wood tone molding, "This is like an ocean liner."

"It is, but I wouldn't want to try it out in too large a storm. It has seem some awesome and scary thunderstorms, but those were mostly short lived and didn't kick up waves that were too big -- maybe six feet or so. It's very seaworthy."

"You'd like to take me out in it?"

"Tomorrow for a relatively short cruise, if you're interested." I had alerted the marina that I would be taking her out early the next morning, and they'd checked out the boat and turned on some of the lights for us.

"I am very interested. I think I'd love to go boating a lot," Jasmine grinned. "I'd go now but this is hardly the dress to wear plus it's dark and I wouldn't get to see anything."

I pointed at one of the closets. "Open that door. See if you see anything familiar?"

Jasmine squealed after opening the door; "You brought some of my casual clothes!"

I grinned as I shrugged off my jacket. "I did. Your bikini is in the duffle bag, your sneakers are on the floor in that closet and make good boat shoes if you don't want to go barefoot, and the rest is just some casual clothes. You might pick something different but what's there will be adequate for your maiden voyage. I figured we'd sleep aboard tonight, and then head out first thing in the morning. I thought we'd go down the coast a hundred miles or so, have lunch in Naples, and then come back. I haven't been on the boat much in the last year or two, so I need to get familiar with things again. The weather is supposed to be very favorable."

Jasmine was in my arms giving me hugs and kisses. I pointed beside us, "Just so you know, the blinds on the windows are not down, so anybody walking along side can see in."

She grinned, "Oh, boy, we can fuck and everybody can watch us."

I shrugged, "Now THAT would get me and the boat kicked out of the Yacht Club."

We lowered the blinds and Jasmine quickly stripped out of her clothes. She'd confessed to me the night before that she preferred nudity to clothing, and she was demonstrating that clearly. She put on one of my thin t-shirts and then followed me around as I locked up the boat for the night.

We sat and had a cup of decafé tea in the boat's sunroom. We could look out across a few of the other boats and see into the Club where some dinner meals were still being served. I knew that given the dark glass on the boat and since we had no backlighting that we were virtually invisible to them, but I didn't tell my nascent nudist.

We talked about the boat and some of its specifications. She was worried about pirates in the Caribbean, but I explained that at least near the American shore there was little to worry about. I also explained that I had hidden aboard some significant firepower and weaponry that would certainly help repel any attack. There was also some electronics that would signal to the right authorities that something bad was going on.

We went to bed and made love again -- twice. Jasmine was slowly increasing my stamina and performance levels. I'd also started on some vitamins and while she was working on Thursday had seen my regular doctor about what I needed to perform well for a much younger woman with nymphomaniac tendencies. While he laughed, he prescribed several vitamins, hormones, and supplements, along with a healthy dose of Cialis. Jasmine might not notice the difference, but I did.

We slept with the gentle sounds of water lapping along the waterline of the Sea Ray. Jasmine was in my arms cuddled up against me and I felt highly loved. I sincerely hoped that she did, too.

We were underway the next morning about six-thirty. Jasmine bounced around the top deck in sneakers and her bikini, following my directions about untying the boat from the mooring posts and getting underway. In only a few minutes we were clear of the Yacht Club in the Intercoastal Waterway headed for one of the passes out of Sarasota Bay into the Gulf of Mexico.

As we cleared the pass the color of the water changed. Also, Jasmine lost her sneakers and her bikini, stuffing the latter into one of the cup holders near what I told her was the co-pilot's seat. She sat and teased me by routinely flashing her entire pussy in my direction as she pretended to masturbate. Occasionally, she'd bring her wet fingers to my lips for me to suck on. I had a hard-on all morning.

Jasmine eventually went to the galley and discovered the makings for breakfast. She cooked up some bacon and scrambled eggs, and brought them topside for us to eat. She also had toast, juice, and coffee. Later, when I checked below, I found that she'd washed everything we used and put it away. The galley looked as new as it did when the ship came out of the manufacturer.

I set up an aggressive speed so we could make the Naples Yacht Club for lunch. They had an enviable service on their terrace that looked out over the Gulf. We were leaving a huge wake behind us, but we were far enough out in the Gulf that we weren't near the smaller boats that would otherwise be swamped. We made Naples in just over four hours.

Jasmine was hooked on the boat. She went all over the boat examining every nook and cranny, every compartment, and trying every sofa, couch, chair, and bed. She'd come back and report on 'how cool' some aspect of the boat was. Of course, having a naked nymph roaming around the boat did wonders for my libido. Besides being hard all morning, I was horny all morning. Later, I realized Jasmine made me horny all the time, a delightful series of emotions to enjoy.