Hurricane Bob Pt. 05

Chapter 9

By six o'clock, I was drunk. I'd gone down to the hotel bar and had several cocktails. I skipped dinner, and as I sat there, I remembered Melanie and her offer. "Hey," I called out to the bartender. "Where's the Holiday Inn?"

"It's just a couple of hotels up the beach. It's the one with the big assed parking lot."

"Oh, yeah," I said, "I know the place."

I paid my tab and left. It was still light out, but there was a weird feel to the atmosphere. The sky was completely overcast, with big, billowy clouds blowing by, and the threat of rain hung heavily in the air. The wind whipped the palm trees, and flags snapped noisily. Everything had a kind of sepia tone to it.

I walked into the bar and looked around for Melanie and her two lovers, but they weren't in the place. I had a Coors and played a game of Ms. Pac Man, as I waited in hopes that they showed up. I didn't know their last names or their room number, so this was my only chance to find her. Finally, after an hour, I gave up.

As I was walking through the parking lot, a car pulled up next to me. I jumped back, thinking it was Mike, and I was about to get my ass kicked. Instead, the window came down to reveal Melanie inside.

"Hey, were you looking for me?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah, I was," I admitted. "Where you headed?"

"Toronto," she said, with a pretend pout. "We don't want to be here when the Hurricane hits, so we're getting out early. Aren't you leaving?"

"No," I said. "I don't think so."

"They're calling for evacuations," she said, looking concerned. "Haven't you been watching the news?"

"No, not really."

"Hurricane Bob is headed right this way!" She exclaimed. "It should be here overnight. They're telling all the tourists to get out now."

"Oh," I said. "Okay."

"So, go home, Bob!" She said.

"Meh," I said dismissively. "I've always wanted to have a hurricane party."

"You're staying?"

"Yeah."

"You're nuts!"

"Probably."

She got out of the car and hugged me. "Don't be stupid," I may want you to come to Toronto and visit me. "So, don't get killed by a hurricane."

"I won't."

She shook her head. "Are all American this crazy?"

"Probably." I hugged her back. "Have a safe trip home."

"Thanks," she said, then reached into the car to get her purse. She took out a pen and paper and gave me her telephone number, full name and address. "Please, let me know if you survived."

"I will," I said. "I promise."

With that, she got back in the car and drove away and out of my life forever. I let go of the piece of paper and watched it float away with the wind.

I made my way back to the Polynesian and walked into the bar.

"Back so soon?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah, I struck out," I said as I sat down on my earlier stool. I noticed an attractive woman was seated a couple of stools down. She was older, but very attractive, with long reddish hair. She was slender with long fingers that implied long and shapely legs to match.

She appeared to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties. As I stared, she looked up, and the green in her eyes sparkled like two emeralds. "Can I get another Cosmopolitan?" she asked the bartender.

"You aren't evacuating either?" I asked, turning to the lovely redhead. She looked my way, and our eyes met. I can't adequately describe what I felt. It was like a million volts of electricity shot into my head, electrifying me and charging me up at the same time. When she smiled, I felt my heart melt.

"No, I came here to get away from things at home," she said. "They're still there, so I'm staying here."

"You're not afraid of the hurricane?" I asked.

"Not so much," she said. "We all have to go sometime. I'm here to have fun and get my mind off of things. If a hurricane hits us and we all die, we won't be around to care."

"I'll drink to that," I said as I tossed back my booze. "Mind if I join you?"

She looked around the bar. We were the only customers in the place. "I think you already have," she said with a slight laugh. "We have the place all to ourselves."

She was both witty and feisty, a charming combination that made her more interesting than just her physical attributes. I wanted to get to know her more. "Then do you mind if I come closer, so we don't have to talk so loud?"

"You have my permission to approach," she said with a wink.

I picked up my cocktail and slid down past the intervening stools to sit next to her. Her soft fragrance was like a combination of vanilla and roses. I inhaled it deeply and introduced myself.

"I'm Bob," I said, tipping my drink to her.

She gave me a disbelieving look. "Like the hurricane?" she asked playfully.

"Exactly," I said. "Now, you're stuck here with two Bobs."

"Well, I'll drink to that," she said with a wink. "I'm Denise, by the way."

"So, what is it at home you're trying to get away from?" I asked. I knew it was none of my business, but she had mentioned it.

She peered at me over the rim of her Cosmopolitan, as she measured me up.

"That's kind of personal," she said. "I don't know you well enough to tell you my dirty secrets."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," I offered. "Plus, we'll never see each other again once we leave here. What's the risk in confiding?"

"Maybe I just don't want to talk about it," she offered.

I thought about it for a second. "If you didn't want to talk about it, I don't think you would have brought it up."

"Good point," she replied. "Okay, you have a deal. You tell me your secrets, then I'll tell you mine."

"Well, then we should get another round and maybe move to a booth," I said. "It may take a while."

"Why do I get the feeling this is some nefarious plan of yours to get me in bed?"

"Because it is a nefarious plan to get you in bed."

She laughed. "Well, at least you're honest."

"So, how's it working?" I asked.

"How is what working?"

"My nefarious plan."

"It's too soon to tell," she replied, standing up. "I'll tell you after we share our secrets."

We moved to a booth in the dark corner of the bar. I sat down across from her, but she patted the seat beside her. "I don't bite," she said.

"Damn," I replied. "And here I was hoping you were a vampire."

Denise smiled and gave me a sultry look. "Vampires bite and then suck. Like I said, I don't bite."

I chuckled at the innuendo and sat down beside her as the new set of drinks arrived. I then bared my soul and told her the entire sordid story. She listened patiently, asking questions here and there to better understand.

"And, so this just happened today?" she asked.

I nodded.

"And how do you feel about it?"

"Ambivalent," I said, "is probably the right word to describe my feelings. I was pissed at first. It's not just about the sex, to me, it's about lying and deceiving. I mean, if we talked about it and agreed to be open, then I wouldn't care what Connie did and with whom. But, we had just talked about being exclusive, and I made it clear how I felt about her fucking that dirtbag. Now, I just don't give a shit. So, yeah, ambivalent kind of sums it up."

"That's a good word," she said. "It's kind of how I feel about the collapse of my marriage. Ambivalent."

"I'm getting kind of hungry," I said. "Would you like to have dinner? Then you can tell me your story."

"I'd like that," she agreed.

We called the bartender over. He told us the kitchen was closing, so if we wanted food, we better hurry up. Not only that, but our choices were limited to things that didn't require much cooking.

We ordered nachos, french fries, and two salads. While we waited for the food to come, Denise excused herself and went to the ladies' room. When she returned, she'd freshened her makeup, brushed her hair out, and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her swimsuit underneath.

She had small but very pert breasts that stood out proudly. She was petite, much shorter than my six-foot-one frame. She had what looked like a dancer's legs, long and shapely. She was beautiful, with a dynamic personality that made her even more attractive.

She settled in the booth, took a sip from her cocktail, and began her story.

"So, how old do you think I am?" she asked, tilting her head coquettishly.

"That's a dangerous, no-win, type of question," I said.

"Be honest," she said, "I won't hold it against you either way."

I stared at her. Her skin was smooth and soft, with almost no wrinkles to speak off. Her eyes, bright and lively. Her breasts were perky. She carried herself with a confidence that came from maturity. The fact that she was asking me, though, told me she must be older than she looked.

She could be as young as thirty-six or as old as forty-two. I opted for the younger of the two ages. The worst thing would be to be wrong while guessing too high.

"You don't look it," I began, "but I think you're likely older than this, just by the way you asked, however. I'd say you look to be in your late thirties, say thirty-eight."

She smiled and kissed my cheek. "Bless you, young man," she said with a playful wink.

"I just turned forty-seven in May," she declared.

There was no way I would have guessed that, and I told her so.

"Well, it's true," she confirmed. "So, I've been married for just over twenty years. My husband and I never had children because I can't. I had a problem with my ovaries as a teenager, and they just don't work right. I was actually okay with it. I can't imagine bringing kids into this fucked up world of ours. Plus, there are enough unwanted kids out there to adopt. I knew my husband wanted kids, but he seemed to accept our situation without ever complaining or blaming me.

"I suggested we adopt, but he wouldn't do it. He came from a very wealthy and established family. For him, the idea of adopting was anathema. He either wanted his own legitimate offspring or none. So, after a while, the thought of children left my mind. We continued on with our marriage, seemingly happy. I was a dancer when we met, and dancing was always my passion. So, that became my focus for many years. I ran a dance school and got to teach many young girls the joy of dance. I guess that was how I compensated for not having kids of our own.

"I guess I should have seen it, but I was oblivious. It turns out that my husband never gave up his desire for children. He had several, actually, just not with me. I recently found out that my darling husband had not one, but three different mistresses, all of whom he kept in relative luxury, and all of whom bore him children. One gave him two girls, the second gave him a boy and a girl, and the third brought him another son.

"Five children, from the ages of seven to seventeen," she continued. "So, he was cheating on me and knocking up other women for most of our marriage. When I found out, I confronted him. His response was to divorce me. He filed last week and had me served this past Friday.

"I decided to get away. We have a house at Hilton Head, but he might find me there, so I came north. I always liked Myrtle Beach as a girl, so I thought what better place to deal with things than here. My best friend Janet didn't want me to wallow in my sorrow all by myself, she drove down from Charlotte this morning, just in time for a hurricane.

"She was taking a nap, I was bored, and then I met you."

"Wow," I said. "I don't feel quite so bad now."

"Oh, well, I'm glad I was able to make your issues seem trivial by comparison," she said, laughing. Denise turned to face me, placing her hand over mine, "Still want to follow through on your nefarious plot now that you know I'm old enough to be your mother?"

"My mother is in her sixties," I responded. "Plus, age is really meaningless. You're one of the most attractive women I've ever met."

"And you're a flatterer," Denise replied. "But, flattery is acceptable. What else do you like about me?"

"You have a quick wit, and you're not afraid to use it. I can tell you're brilliant. You seem to have your shit together and a soon-to-be-ex-husband who is an idiot."

"And?"

"And a body that is screaming at me to see it naked."

"My body is screaming at you to see it naked?"

"Yes, can't you hear it?" I asked. I put my arm around her and pulled her close to me. "Listen. Hear that? It's saying 'take my clothes off, Bob' and 'get me naked,' stuff like that. I mean, I hear it."

Denise chuckled. She was so close that her scent was driving me crazy. She felt soft, warm, and purely feminine against my body. She cuddled closer, and her hand landed on my thigh. I had never wanted to kiss anyone that badly before in my life.

"If you don't let me kiss you, I may die," I whispered.

"We can't have that," she replied, "I don't want to fuck a dead guy."

She raised her head and leaned toward me. I leaned into her, and just as our lips were about to meet, a voice spoke from nearby.

"So, this is where you've been hiding all evening!"

"Janet!" Denise said with a start. "Hey!"

"Hey to you too," Janet said as she sat down in the booth across from us. She grinned at me. "Oh, I approve! Denise has found a boy toy. Are we going to keep him?"

"As a pet?" Denise asked.

"Oh, I would love to keep him as a pet," Janet replied. "Does he have a name?"

"Bob!" I said, waving feebly. "I'm Bob."

"Like the hurricane?" Janet asked. Denise giggled.

"Yeah," I said, "I blow hard and get you soaking wet."

"I like him already!" she said, grinning at Denise. "What are you eating? I'm starved!"

"They only have munchies," I told her. "The kitchen is closed down due to the hurricane."

"Oh, shit, what about the bar?"

"It's still open," I assured her, then waved the bartender over.

"Can I get three of whatever they're drinking, and a shot of tequila," Janet asked.

"Seriously?" the bartender asked.

"Yes, but not all at one time. Bring the shot and one of whatever it is they're drinking now, then bring another one every five minutes until I've caught up."

"So, Janet is my best friend. She's also going through marital problems," Denise informed me.

"Oh, you guys have already advanced to sharing personal details?"

"We could all die tonight from the hurricane," Denise explained. "So, we figured we would just get it all out then move on to fucking."

"Oh, I like that plan! Can I join?" Denise said, leaning forward. As she did, her top fell open to reveal two large, naked breasts. She had to be at least a 36-D, with big, dark areolas."

I gulped, and Denise giggled. I felt her hand slide up to my crotch and squeeze my boner through my shorts.

"Bob Jr says yes," Denise blurted out.

"Oh, he does?" Janet asked, licking her lips. "Maybe I should ask him myself." She got up and came around to our side, sliding in next to me, pinning me between the two mature women. Janet reached over and slapped Denise's hand, then squeezed my cock. "Bob Jr, is it okay if I join you and Denise for the naughty shit you have in mind?"

She squeezed my dick several times, talking in a funny, high-pitched, cartoon-like voice, "Yes, of course, Janet, I'd love it!"

"Hey," I exclaimed, "Bob Jr doesn't sound like that!"

"He doesn't?" Janet queried.

"No, he's way more manly than that."

"How does he sound?" Denise probed.

I spoke in as deep of a baritone voice as I could manage, "Yes, of course, Janet, I'd love it!"

"Oh my God, Denise!" Janet exclaimed. "Bob's dick is black!"

"Oh, shit," Denise chimed in. "You know what they say about girls going black!"

"He's only brown," I informed the women.

"What the fuck?" Janet exclaimed. "Forget it then. I wanted my first interracial fuck."

"Sorry, to disappoint," I said.

"Sigh," Janet said. "Just make sure you don't have to apologize for that tomorrow morning."

"I'll try my best," I said.

"Stop staring at my tits," Janet said, then pulled her top open, deliberately showing them to me.

"I said, stop staring at my tits!" She pulled her shirt all the way open, stood up, and called to the bartender, flaunting her boobs. "Would you tell Bob to stop staring at my tits?"

"Bob, stop staring at her tits," the bartender called out half-heartedly.

Denise grabbed my face and turned my head to face her. Her breasts were also on display. "Here, Bob, you can stare at mine."

"Damn," I said, breathing hard. Janet still had her hand on my cock.

"He's bigger than my husband," she said informatively. "But, then I haven't seen his dick in six years. I could be wrong."

Denise slapped Janet's hand off of me and wrapped her hand around my erection. "Hmmm, it's hard to say without seeing it, but from what I can feel, he's much bigger than Stan."

Just then, there was a loud crashing sound. A patio chair had just slammed into the large window overlooking the pool. "Holy shit," the bartender said, then ran outside and started bringing the chairs inside. I jumped up and helped him. The wind was whipping up like crazy. The palm trees that lined the pool were swaying back and forth wildly.

Two maintenance workers appeared from around the hotel's side, carrying large plywood sheets and started boarding up all the first-floor windows.

The bartender and I secured all the remaining patio furniture, bringing it inside the bar. Denise and Janet had come over to look outside. The sky was a very dark gray with low hanging clouds that seemed to boil.

"Look at the beach," I said, gesturing over the wall by the pool.

"I can't see the beach," Denise said.

"That's my point," I replied. "Come out here."

The three of us walked out by the pool and stood by the retaining wall. The beach had mostly disappeared. The ocean level seemed to have risen way up so that the waves were leaving only a strip of sand, maybe thirty or forty feet wide.

As we watched, a massive wave crashed, and the water ran up the beach, lapping at the base of the wall. "Shit," I said, "Maybe we should take the party up to my room. I'm on the top floor."

"Good idea," Denise replied.

We went back in got to-go boxes for all of the food. "Hey, can we get the drinks to go?" Janet asked the bartender.

"That's against the rules," he replied. "But, uh, you pay me, and I'll bring a box of booze and mixers up to your room. I mean, hell, it's not like you're going anywhere."

With that, we made our way to the elevator. When the door closed, things were awkwardly silent for about ten seconds before Janet said, "I've always wanted to have a hurricane party."

"Well, this is your chance," Denise replied, putting her arms around me.

"And a threesome," Janet added, as she hugged me from the other side.

"Well, this is your chance," Denise repeated. We all laughed until the elevator stopped.

Chapter 10

I turned the TV on. All of the local channels were talking about Hurricane Bob. It was still a long way off. Only the outer bands were affecting us, with tropical storm strength winds.

"At least it isn't raining," I said. A large gust of wind blew the curtains open, and rain started coming into the room. Janet was hit with the cold spray, and she jumped up to close the sliding glass door.

"So much for that!" she said. "Damn, now my clothes are all wet. What should I do?"

"Take them off?" I suggested, grinning sheepishly.

"I will if Denise does!" Janet replied playfully.

"I will if Bob does!" Denise added.

I pulled my t-shirt up over my head and tossed it on the chair, then ripped my board shorts open and dropped them, kicking across the room. I stood there, naked before the two older, mature women. They both eyed me lustfully.

"Oh my," Denise cooed. "Yep, he's bigger than Stan."

Janet quickly stripped out of her clothes. She had a hot body, a little thicker and fuller than Denise, with wide hips, a hairy pussy, and big boobs. She laid down on the bed, and I realized that the maid must have come while I was gone. We had clean sheets on both beds and a set of new towels. I don't know why that was on my mind as I stared at the naked body of the married woman I'd only met a few minutes earlier.