Genie's Wish Ch. 03

"Today? Nancy." She left it at that and I figured I could always check the schedule on the website. Tris's suggestive comment had given me ideas. Apparently not for tonight, though.

"Can I take you out for lasagna?" I suggested. "Bet you didn't get a dinner break today."

Tris's eyes widened eagerly and she curled her fingers over my shoulders. "That really sounds great," she moaned. I could practically hear her stomach rumbling. Hell, not practically. Literally.

"It's close enough to walk. Can I leave the car in the lot?"

She psh'ed unconcernedly. "Oh, totally. Nobody will need those spots till tomorrow."

I stopped looking into the practice room, and regarded Tris's face. She lifted herself up, not on toe-tips but lengthening her spine, inviting me with her hands to bend over her at the same time, and she brought her face close to mine.

"Let's go, I'm starving," she said, but instead of getting going, she closed her eyes and puckered her mouth.

I sensed she was holding her breath, so I promptly relaxed under her hands, softened, bending gently down to get closer. I let my warm breath wash from my nose over her cheeks and the side of her neck as I tipped my head to kiss her mouth. We met at the lips, and puckered and parted a few times with soft, liquid smacks. I put my arms around her and held her a little above the small of her back.

Tris hummed, "Mmmm." We opened our eyes again, and her expression showed that she was pleased with that experience. I grinned back, and arrested a little growl of lust which had been percolating. It tried to huff out of my throat, but I turned it into a smooth exhalation instead, boring a smoldering look into Tris's eyes. My patience was stronger than my hormones and I slowly blinked.

Tris asked, "Am I dressed all right for this place?" and eyed my slacks and dress shirt.

Tris was in one of those outfits which seem to suit almost any place these days. Her black yoga pants could pass for leggings (what's the difference, even? Really?) and she had an oatmeal-color, thigh-length, open-front knit sweater on over her black compression top with shape-accentuating white seams. Maybe she does do yoga, after all, I thought to myself, or maybe just dresses for the job. Her feet were bare in some sandals reminiscent of huaraches, but more feminine and contemporary.

I promised she'd be just fine, and we walked the three blocks over to Gepetto's for dinner.

It went about like one would imagine. She liked me, I liked her, we got along nicely, and shared hot, stick-to-the-ribs Italian food. We were both beyond ready for a pile of food. My twenty-nothing male metabolism was basically always ready, but I had only snacked earlier, anticipating this meal. Tris had worked a split shift today, and had only had a breakfast before nine AM, and a few hours break ending in the early afternoon.

We let Gepetto's give us the literal soup-to-nuts experience, enjoying about seven small courses, beginning with soup and ending with a cheese plate by way of dessert, bearing fruit and nuts too.

We spent more than two and a half hours at dinner, taking our time and savoring each phase of the meal. A shared plate of anti-pasti, little dishes of fettucine, the promised lasagna, a light salad each, and the said cheese plate. We had quite a bit of time to talk. I gathered more about her than she learned about me. "Tris" was short for Beatrice, I sussed.

I hadn't really been pressed to put together a story yet about my life and history, but this was basically my first "real date" since the change. I managed to answer her questions with statements about things which had happened to me or I had done, rather than a clear picture of what I was doing now or where I had come from and how I had gotten here. I did convey that I was not attached to anyone, might be looking for work sometime since my major boat projects were about to conclude, and wasn't sure how long I would be staying in Saint Augustine. This last detail didn't seem to perturb Tris. Good sign.

What I hadn't explained was that I was living on a boat or how I had come by it.

It was after eleven when we were done dining and ready to talk about what-next. I freshly suggested we go back to the yoga studio and "make a fort" out of blankets, bolsters and gym mats. This elicited a thoroughly tickled outburst of laughter, but she regretfully insisted No to that. But since the ice had been broken and we were now firmly on the subject of where to go, as we clearly intended to continue the night in each other's company, she said she could have me over "for coffee."

At nearly midnight. Right!

I was game. We walked back to my car and she said she'd navigate me to her place. I was saving her a rideshare bill home. She griped that they always smelled like old-ladies anyway.

"Even after dark?" I half-joked.

She smirked. "Well, then some of the drivers smell like cigarettes too!"

I gasped! "Picky, picky!"

We arrived at my car, and she did a double-take. I hadn't liquidated it in the divorce, Fair enough, the ex had her own late-model Audi. Even fucking steven. Mine was black with dark-red interior. I hadn't taken Tris to be a gold-digger type, but she knew her way around cars, enough to recognize my interior as custom.

"My God, Jack, are you a trust-fund baby?"

I thought about my retirement accounts, diminished but not totally eviscerated. "In a way, I guess." I mentioned something about not having access to the funds until some years away.

Just to be cocky, I overpowered the transmission, and wheelspun out of the little lot with a muted, throaty roar of the exhaust. No fishtail, I regained traction right on the centerline of the lane and we rolled calmly off toward the other side of the college campus. It's not a large school but the grounds are spread out enough that it would be a fair walk, especially this late at night, for a short, cute young lady.

Tris raised her eyebrows, impressed, and said, "Hot stuff!" I wasn't sure if she meant the car or the driver, and I'm not sure she was, herself. Either way!

Realizing what was likely to commence once we got to her place, my body started churning with anticipation. My scrotum started tingling and my balls felt liquid. I breathed calmly, smiling to myself as I drove, brain promising body that we had all the time in the world.

Good thing, because Tris saw some vehicles and recognized them as belonging to her roommate's friends. "Damn, they're having a game night or some shit."

"Cards or something?" I asked.

"D and D," she eyerolled.

She twisted in her seat to face me. The seatbelt did a lift-and-separate thing to her chest, better than that old TV ad before Wonderbras took over the scene. "Jack, do you have a place?"

I was already practicing a little relaxation technique inside my guts, calming the hormonal fury cooking within, so my dick didn't twitch and my pelvis didn't clench at that, but blood definitely changed direction and flowed insistently into my prick. I just nodded modestly. "It's a little different, but yeah, Tris. I do. You're invited," I added with a cheerful lifting of my cheeks under my eyes.

I was tickled, even though I didn't know what I'd tell her if she were to ask about it.

I teased, "You can climb a ladder, right?" and began driving to the shore.

"What, you have like a loft or something?"

"No, not a loft. The ladder's like my front steps. Only they're at the back." I smirked. She was a smart kid, I wanted to see how she'd appreciate the riddle I was posing.

She stared. "What in the world. What kind of a place do you - Are you talking about where you live!?"

"Yup."

She thought out loud. "And you have to climb a ladder to get in? From the back?" A lightbulb went off! "You're going to sneak me into your parents' house, aren't you!"

I laughed at that. "I like the way your mind works! But no. This place is all mine."

Her hand had floated up to her throat while we chatted. She was idly stroking the side of her neck with her fingers, thinking further. "Humh. Is it... A treehouse?"

I side-eyed her warily.

"Okay, okay. A... RV?"

"Getting warmer!"

This really gave her pause. "Warm, but not an RV. Dammit, Jack! I don't know!"

I turned and trundled down the boatyard's driveway. "That's all right. We're here!"

Tris looked out the window. Outside was the double-wide prefab, corrugated-metal sided building which was the office and staff area, and rows of boats on stands extending in every direction. "Ohh!" she exclaimed, looking mighty curious.

I parked in my spot, got out, and came around to get Tris's door for her. "My goodness, Jack, what a gentleman." She really did seem surprised at this.

I nodded modestly. "I want you to feel at home. Here, let's use this, since you don't know your way." I got a flashlight out of the under-dash box,. switched it on, and gave it to her.

"Follow me." I offered a hand.

She took it, and I closed the car and locked it. I led her around the side of the office, and thought to myself that someone had left the lights on by mistake. I didn't have a key, or else I would have gone in and taken care of that myself. Around the back side of the building, I followed the track down my row and found my boat.

"Ta daa!" I said to Tris.

The topsides were roughly ten or eleven feet above our heads. The ladder leaned up against the transom - the after end of the boat, so, see, the ladder's at the "back," I explained to Tris.

"I know the front from the back of a boat, silly!" she tittered.

I smartassedly quipped, "Oh, you mean the bow from the stern? Silly!?"

I double checked the stability of the ladder. I didn't always do this for myself before ascending, but I sure didn't want my desirable young guest having a mis-hap. While she climbed, I looked around, and thought I saw movement inside the office, through one of the back windows, lit from the inside.

When Tris got off the ladder, I made my own way up. I unlocked the hatch and slid it back on its tracks. I lifted the washboards out of the companionway and invited Tris inside, reaching below for the galley light switch to illuminate the steps. "After you!"

Wile she was climbing down, I told her to make herself right at home and just give me a second. I opened a cockpit locker and rummaged for a pair of binoculars. I took them out of the case and lifted them to see that office window better.

THE MIDNIGHT HOUR

From the elevated position in my boat's cockpit, I was looking straight into the staff lounge, the very place where Livia and I had fucked barely ten hours earlier. I was frankly surprised to see her there again, only with a different fuckbuddy this time.

"Tris!" I hissed loudly, whispering but with intensity. "You gotta see this!"

I didn't know the guy, I had just seen him around the yard. Before today, that is.

I told Tris quietly, "There's a pair of binoculars under the nav table, yeah, that desk looking thing there. Lift up the lid!" She tipped up the lifting top of the desk-slash-table, revealing the shallow storage space beneath. The binoculars were right on top, and she made to pass them to me.

"Nah, I have my own, those are for you! Come back up here!"

Tris climbed out of the companionway into the cockpit again, and I shut the galley light back off. I told Tris, "Look in the window over there," and we both lifted our spyglasses to our eyes.

The dark-haired, light-skinned Livia had her top off and was on her knees before the sofa. She was between the knees of the boatyard worker who had caught her and myself having sex in that same spot. He had helped himself to Livia's damp panties which I had tossed onto the lunch table as I stripped her. I didn't think she had known he had caught us, but I had seen him. I didn't tell her.

"Oh my god!" Tris hushed.

"Right?" I whispered back.

We watched for a minute. Livia was thirty five, but going on twenty eight in the looks department. Her slim back rounded as she went down over her friend's crotch. Her ass was peach-shaped, threatening to split her black skinny-jeans wide open, it seemed, as she knelt and bent forward. When Livia cupped her tit with her hand and kneaded it, a little peep of excitement escaped Tris's throat.

"Nnnn," I hummed back quietly. I peeled my gaze from the glasses and looked at Tris. She had mirrored Livia and was feeling her own chest with one hand. I caressed the back of Tris's neck while we sat side by side on the cockpit seats, and adjusted the front of my slacks to give myself room to grow without discomfort.

"Jack, I fucking know her!" Tris blurted softly.

I looked. Livia's friend had stood up off the sofa and turned to the side. I knew him from around the boatyard as a worker, but I hadn't ever been introduced or really spoken to him at all because he seemed to only be a Spanish speaker.

He was now holding Livia's head and was jamming himself into her face, which Tris and I could see because Livia had turned too. They were both side-on to us in front of the sofa. She held his bare ass cheeks with both hands and her chest bobbled heavily with the motions.

Tris saw Livia's brown areolae and nipples. "She's a fucking milf," she observed. That was what I had thought to myself, too!

"Guess so!" I answered.

I felt a hand in my lap. Tris was feeling for my dick, found it, and measured its pressure. "You're excited too, huh?"

It twitched under her hand, and I said, "'Course! You too?"

She let my crotch go and found my hand with hers. She guided it to her chest. I put my binoculars down and felt Tris where she had put my hand. I rolled her breast across her chest, lifting and lowering it, gently moving the tissue around, avoiding any compression which might cause a pain. I didn't know her sensations yet and everyone's different, so, I usually go slowly and let my partner show me what she wants.

She wanted more. She held up the binoculars with one hand and covered my own with her other one, pressing my hand firmly into her tit and moving it right where she wanted the pressure. I massaged there and reached across with my other hand and did the same on the other boob, and heard her pant out a soft moan.

"What are they doing?" I asked.

"She's totally deepthroating him," she said. "She likes it rough."

I knew, but I asked Tris, "How can you tell?"

She squirmed a little under my hands, and I found her nipples as I squeezed her chest. She told me, "The way she looks up at him. She gags and lets him block her air, then when she pulls off, she gives him fuck-me looks."

My cock throbbed hard at the memory of that very thing. I said, "Oooh." Like I meant it. Which I did.

"Yeah." said Tris. "It's not how I like it, but it's hot to watch."

Her nipples had firmed up majorly, and I was rolling them between thumb and finger when she shivered. "I can't believe we're watching people have sex," she marveled.

"They fucking?" I asked.

"No, but I think they're about to." She passed me her set of binoculars.

I sat back, and looked. While I was finding the window again and focusing, Tris was returning the favor, feeling my chest and pinching my nipple with one hand. The other found my hard dick in my slacks and caressed its length through the khaki fabric. I growled appreciatively.

Livia had stripped her jeans off. I didn't see whether she had had panties on under them, but they looked like the same jeans I had taken off her, myself, that afternoon. The boat worker had also gotten naked, shirt off and Dickies down around his ankles. He was fingering Livia vigorously from behind as she knelt on the forward edge of the sofa, arms and head on the backrest, pushing her ass out for Boatyard Hombre to fingerfuck.

He ate her juice off his fingers and plunged them in there again, burying them into the split in the middle of her black muff. I could practically fucking taste it myself. I had, after all. My dick twitched under Tris's hand and she surprised me when her hand went inside my shirt and a slippery, spit-coated finger slid around my nipple. I jerked, spine stiffening abruptly. "AhH!"

She cooed, "Is he in her yet?"

"His fingers are," I said.

Tris backed off and I gave her the glasses back. I found my own and we both watched.

Yardguy turned Livia so she was on hands and knees on the sofa, long-ways. He climbed up behind her and rubbed his fuckstick between her thighs. It was only about five inches, which explained (to me, anyway) why he had been able to facefuck her so aggressively, whereas I had hit the back of her throat and she couldn't take the last inch of me.

Deepthroat, my ass, I thought, but I didn't say anything to Tris, chortling silently to myself.

He got it all the way in Livia's tunnel, too. He plunged into her depths and threw his head back. I could hear a roaring grunt all the way out here, maybe forty yards away and on the other side of the window and wall.

"Did you hear that!" Tris wheezed. "Fucking hot."

"Do you want to see them finish?" I asked. I put down my binoculars.

Tris watched for a second or three more. "Fuck'em," she said, "let's - "

Then she gasped.

And just stared, wordlessly. I picked my glasses up again and looked.

Livia was lifting one knee toward her chest, foot on the sofa, other knee still kneeling on it. She was reaching behind herself, holding a bodacious, yoga-toned ass cheek away from her centerline. She was spreading herself as wide as she could, and Yardguy was eating her asshole. I saw him hock a spit wad onto it, and he stirred it with the head of his cock, pressing it against her anus.

"Is he gonna fucking - " Tris stammered.

"In the ass. Damn," I narrated.

"No fuckin' way!" she inhaled sharply.

We watched as he got himself in there, and Livia moaned audibly, arching her head back and bowing her back in revese toward the sofa. Her tits swung ripely, and Yardguy hammered himself into her.

To be honest, I couldn't believe my luck. I had already planned to see whether Tris had done anal before, and seduce her into it if not. This was really going to break the ice. "Have you ever done that?" I asked her.

"Jesus, no!" After a breath, "... You?"

"Mmm, maybe."

She yelped, almost shrieking but getting it under control before bleating loudly enough to be heard inside. she put her binoculars down. "You fucking horn dooog!" she mewed

I smirked modestly and chuckled quietly. "Guess so, yeah. What'd you expect?"

"I didn't know anyone who does that! I do now, though!"

I looked at her. I figured we were done watching the show. I put my binoculars in the case. "Of course you did, you just didn't know they did. How would you ever know?"

Her mouth gaped, tongue tied.

"I'm not saying everyone does it, just more than you suspect," I embellished.

"You watch too much porn! Not everyone's like that!" She found her voice again and whispered insistently, eyes bright.

"Heh. I just said that," I smugged.

"Psh." Tris looked for her own binoculars case and put hers in it while I returned mine to the locker I had gotten it from.

I gathered Tris from the cockpit bench, giving her a hand to stand, and embracing her fondly before we went below. I told Tris, "Remember that kiss in the studio?"

Tris looked up at me in the dark. "Uh huh. I sure do, Jack." And we kissed again, right there.

We wrapped our arms around each other and sighed and panted through our noses as our mouths sealed together. Our tongues slipped over and around each other and she sucked on mine a little. Not too much. I reciprocated, just enough to be sexy, no vacuum-cleaner treatment. I moved my hands and pulled her hips, and bumped her with mine.

"You're hard, I can feel it," she informed me.

I hummed unsurprisedly. "Nnn hn." And stepped down the hatch. I turned the light on for her to follow.