Naked House

Camille tucked her red-streaked hair behind her ear. Maybe I should have said something then; maybe I should have stopped her, but it was all too good and all too strange. She smiled and parted her red-painted lips, and she closed her mouth around my cock.

I touched her head and moaned out loud. Camille held my hips and took the head of my cock over her tongue and deep in her mouth. She drew back slowly, and first her tongue and then her lips slipped around me. She took me again, and faster again.

My instincts told me to thrust my cock deep into Camille's wet warmth. I fought that urge, and that effort made me writhe on the lounge. Her hands pressed me down, her mouth pulled me up. Her hot breath and her soft hair brushed my skin every time she took my cock again.

I wanted to come in Camille's mouth right then, but I also wanted those thrills flooding my body forever. I couldn't have both. I arched my back and groaned at the sliver of sky between the sun sails, and Camille grunted through her nose as spasms gripped my body. My hot essence pulsed through my shaft and erupted in her mouth, and she pumped me with her hands until I relaxed back onto the lounge.

I laid there for a moment and watched an airliner crossing between the sun sails without really seeing it. It wasn't until that rush passed that I got my elbows under me and asked, "Where's Dory?"

"Napping," Camille said. She wiped a drop off the corner of her mouth and—just like she did the night before—she watched me while she sucked it off her finger.

I groaned and fell back onto the lounge. "You're good at that, but why did you do it? Naked House rules."

Camille squeezed my leg and laughed at me. "For all the reasons I came here. I wanted to be spontaneous. I wanted to feel sexy."

"Glad I could help." I sat up beside Camille and caught her arm to keep her from standing. She turned her head away when I leaned close, and I inhaled the scent that rose from her neck. "You're sexy. I like the way you smell." Her breast more than filled my hand, and her nipple stood out between my fingers. "I like the way you feel."

"Save that for your girlfriend." Camille brushed my hands away and stood beside the lounge. "But thanks, anyway."

I sat up on the edge of the lounge and shook my head. "The way things went today, she might not even listen. Are you going to tell Dory?"

Camille stopped with her hand on the door. "If she asks the right question." She stepped into Naked House then turned back. "What's your pizza?"

"Sausage and cheese. No veggies." Dory got up when the pizza came, and we watched fireworks over the water. Or maybe Dory and Camille watched fireworks, and I watched Dory and Camille.

We stayed on the deck until just the last drunken bunch of teens partied on the beach, and I caught Dory by the dining table. I squeezed her naked body against mine and kissed her mouth. I stroked my hand over the contours of her hip and, with my lips close by her ear, I gave her the words that Camille told me to save for my girlfriend. "I like the way you feel." I inhaled the scent that rose from her shoulder. "I like the way you smell."

Dory relaxed against my touch, and she laughed when I pulled her toward our bed. She bounced on the edge of the mattress, and I climbed over her. My cock was already hard—maybe Dory wasn't going to get all the foreplay she'd like.

Dory touched my hard-on. Her eyes searched my face, and she said. "Mom's still up." She wasn't soft for me anymore.

"So?" There was that frustration coming back again. "We're grown ups. She expects us to do this."

"I'm not OK with it right now," Dory said. She squirmed from under me and looked down at my cock. "Naked House rules—is that for me, or is that for Mom?"

Maybe I spent too much of our time on the deck looking at Camille. I watched Camille's lips when she smiled and wondered how her mouth tasted. I watched her breasts move, and I wondered how her nipples would feel under my tongue. I watched her hands and wondered how they would feel clutching my back.

Blood rose in face, but Dory didn't let up. "You ogled her all night. Do you have a thing for my mom?"

I clenched my teeth and pushed Dory away. I wanted my words to hurt her. "I think I might. Yeah, I think I might have a thing for your mom."

Dory stood up from the bed and turned around. The light through the door silhouetted her naked form, and she pumped her closed fists while she hissed at me. "You can't. Mom is everything I'm not. You can't even like her and like me too."

Camille must have heard us. She was waiting in the living room when Dory left me alone. I fell back on the bed to get my anger under control, but my need didn't go away. I wanted Dory to be mine again—to feel her arms around me and to feel her body yield.

I sat up and looked around the shadowy room. My socks were on the floor where I left them after I raised the sun sails. I picked one up, closed the bedroom door and laid back on the bed with the sock around my hard-on.

Visions of Dory teased at my mind while I stroked myself. There was her smile and her touch, and the way her legs felt around me. Dory was wrong, you know. She and Camille weren't that different. The shapes in my mind changed just so, until I held Camille in my arms.

In my mind, I explored Camille with my hands and my tongue. She held me in her arms and between her legs. She caught her breath when I joined our bodies, and we moved together. We were hot. Our skin was slick with sweat. Her taste, her scent, the sound of her voice all flooded my imagination.

I groaned at the ceiling and the fireworks that lit behind my eyes were brighter than anything we saw over the beach. Camille called my name and clutched at my back, and my sock was warm and wet.

***

Dory climbed into bed over me in the middle of the night. She woke me just enough for me to know she was there, and she pulled the sheet over herself without touching me. Mid-morning had already passed when she climbed over me again. There was a clatter in the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Dory asked.

I rolled on my back to squint at her. "I'll shower first. I'm surprised you came back to bed."

Dory gave me a little smile. "You get another chance. That's what relationships are about, right?" She looked over her shoulder to where Camille worked in the kitchen. "Mom thought I should just call us done, but I'll do it my way."

They were already in their bikinis when I got out of the shower, and my phone said it was nearly noon. I walked with them to the deck where sun tea brewed on the rail and Dory gave me a peck on the cheek. "Catch up with us later?" she asked, but I didn't give her more than a nod before she ran to catch up with her mom.

I had coffee. I made a sandwich, and I had my cellphone on the deck to keep me busy, so I never followed them to the beach. I could see them from where I sat—Camille and Dory and the guys trying to get their attention—so I saw Dory climb out of her sling chair and jog up the dunes to Naked House.

Dory ran the stairs, swept the tea jar off the rail and cradled it in her arms. "Mom made a shopping list—some clothes, some stuff for the house, some groceries. I'm going to take her credit card and her rental car and do some shopping."

"Is she going with you?" I opened the door and followed Dory in, and she talked while she set the jar on the kitchen counter.

"No, she's trying to pick up some guy." Dory dropped her bikini top as she passed on her way to the bedroom.

I caught her arm by the bed as the rest of the bikini slid down her legs and turned her to look at me. "If we have the time, then maybe we should work on us."

Dory pulled away from me. "I have to hurry a little, or we might not have anything for dinner. If you want to work on us, then start picking out baby names. Do you want to come with me?"

"What?" I asked, and snapped my head up. "No, I'll pass."

Dory glanced at the clock on the dresser. "I'm going to jump in and out of the shower."

I thought someday we'd have a long heart-to-heart, and I'd find out if Camille was right about what Dory wanted. Now I didn't need to.

Dory pulled out of the driveway before I went back to the deck and leaned on the rail. The sling chairs were gone from the beach. Maybe Camille got her guy. I searched the beach a moment longer before I heard her close the storeroom and watched her climb the stairs. She stroked her hand over my shoulders as she passed and asked, "Is Dodie gone?"

"To shopping heaven, I think. She said you were trying to pick up some guy."

Camille smiled at me from under those dark bangs. "I told Dodie the truth. She interpreted it the way she wanted."

She left the door open behind her. I waited, so I didn't seem too eager, and then I closed the door and found Camille in the kitchen. She'd just made a glass of iced tea, and she leaned back against the counter with the glass in one hand and a croissant in the other.

She was still in her bikini. I licked my lips and said, "Naked House rules. You're still dressed."

"Oh." Camille looked down at herself like that was news to her, and made sure her arms weren't in my way. "My hands are full. Do a girl a favor?"

I stepped close enough to feel Camille's warmth. Her skin was scented with sea air and suntan lotion, and she looked up at me while I unhooked her top and let it fall. This time she didn't push my hands away. Her breasts were full and soft, and she pressed back against my touch.

I asked, "How long do you think Dory's going to be gone?" I slipped my hands down Camille's sides to her hips, and I pulled her against me. She tipped her lips up to me when I bent over her.

"I gave her a long list, but it won't take all afternoon." She didn't turn away this time. She parted her lips, and her tongue welcomed mine. Camille rose in my arms, and her breath warmed my cheek—but not for long before she broke the kiss.

"You're going to make me spill my tea." The tea was at risk, but it was her croissant that took the beating. She dropped the crushed bit of bread on the counter.

I trailed my lips slowly around her breast and down her belly. I crouched in front of her and grasped that bit of fabric around her hips, and I slid it over her butt and down her legs. She stepped out of it when it fell around her ankles, and I nudged her thighs apart.

Camille stifled a laugh. "Let me get my balance," she said, but I dove for the feminine scent from between her legs—or tried to. A drop of cold water dripped off her glass and onto my back, and it was followed by another.

The cold little shocks made me arch my back and catch my breath, and Camille bent down to stroke the drops off my skin. She set her glass down and offered me her hand. "We'll both be more comfortable in bed."

I took Camille's hand, lurched to my feet, and tugged her across Naked House. She dropped to her knees on the edge of her bed then laughed into the mattress when I laid her down.

"How should I do this?" I asked close by her ear, but she didn't give me her answer right away. I kissed the back of her neck and stroked her back. Her skin was slick with suntan lotion. She moaned into the bedcover and moved like a cat in heat.

I slipped off the edge of the bed and started again with her legs. I worked my way up her thighs, and the higher I got, the more she anticipated. She groaned when I paused for a moment, and she said, "Don't stop now."

Stopping wasn't in my plans. I meant to do her like she did me. My hard cock would wait.

I spread Camille's butt cheeks and pushed my fingers into her pussy. "You're wet," I said, and she laughed. I sucked her off my fingers, and she squawked when I rolled her onto her back.

Camille sat up enough to catch my shoulder and then my head. "I'll show you what to do," she said, and she guided my mouth. I closed my lips around the sensitive flesh between her legs, and she lifted her knees apart to give me room.

Mom was not like her daughter. Dory was always tense at first and almost always quiet. Camille responded to everything I did. Her trigger grew full and firm under my tongue. The ways she moved and the garbled noises she made told me I was doing it right.

I held her hips and found her hot button with my tongue, and I didn't let up. I immersed myself in her feminine scent and taste, and the mindless way she bucked against my mouth told me she would give me what I wanted if only I kept doing what I was doing.

Camille knotted her fingers in my hair and closed her thighs around my head; I gripped her hips, and her body tightened in my arms. Spasms erupted from under my tongue, and I felt them course up her spine. She groaned at the ceiling, and her muscles went soft again.

I rocked back on my haunches when Camille let me go. She laughed from a distant la-la land in a quiet, breathless way while I climbed up between her legs. My hard-on fell on her belly, and I reached down to guide my throbbing shaft into her. I meant to hold her and hear her scream my name.

Dory's voice cut through it all. "Oh my God!" she said, and Camille eyes flew open. She arched her back under me and twisted around to find her daughter standing in the open door. Dory's grocery bags fell, and she covered her mouth with both hands. She stepped back, and I launched myself off her mother.

"I wanted to leave the groceries here before I finished the rest." Dory stepped back again with tears in her eyes, and she ran. I caught her before she reached the door. I turned her around and tried to calm her down, but she flew into a blind fury.

Dory slapped at my arms and tried to push away, until Camille stood behind her and said. "Dodie, don't." Dory spun around and buried her head against Camille's shoulder and sobbed.

"How could you?" was all Dory said, and I watched Camille wrap her arm around her daughter and close the bedroom door behind them.

I went to the deck and dropped onto a lounge. I couldn't hear what they said behind that closed door, but I imagined when it was all done that it would be my fault.

The beach slowly emptied, and I watched pelicans skim over the waves until Camille slid the door open and settled on the lounge beside me. She looked tired and spoke quietly. "I bought Dodie a seat on a puddle jumper. She's packing now. They'll have her home tonight."

"I can get her to the airport," I said, even though I wasn't sure where the little local airport was. "I expect you made it all my fault."

"I'll do it. She wasn't going to be your girlfriend much longer, but she'll always be my daughter." Camille turned away and watched the shadows stretching on the beach. "I think I made a mistake. I wanted to keep you from hurting Dodie, and I hurt her instead."

Camille brushed away a tear that streaked her cheek, and I made my argument. "I didn't think we'd break up this way. I can take the blame, but I want to see her off. We can arrange for her to clean her things out of my apartment before I get back, and that way maybe I'll never see her again."

She changed her mind. I didn't know then why. Her eyes searched my face, and she said, "Get dressed. She's waiting."

I loaded Dory's things into my car, and she stopped me as soon as I had her luggage unloaded at the airport. She gave me the house keys, took her travel bag, and left me standing in the parking lot.

She said, "Goodbye, Seth," and she walked away.

Her plane waited on the apron, so I stayed and watched as the night darkened and the floodlights came on. I picked Dory out of the little crowd when the passengers left their luggage for the ground crew to stow. I watched her climb aboard, and I waved goodbye as the little plane lifted away.

I felt hollow, and it got worse when I reached Naked House. The driveway and the house were empty, and the groceries Dory dropped still lay scattered across the dining room. I picked Camille's bikini from the kitchen floor and her croissant from the counter, and I found her bag open on a chair in her room.

The house was quiet but for the first whistles and bangs from fireworks on the beach. I gathered the groceries from the floor and stored them in the cabinet or in the fridge until the telephone rang—not my cellphone, but the phone on the wall.

I wondered at first if I should answer, then picked up the phone and said, "This is Seth."

Camille's voice was in my ear; it was tense and hushed. "Can you come get me? Like now? I'm at Clyde's by the marina, and I'm in a little trouble."

She gave me directions and I found a dive bar overlooking the lagoon. The old neon sign outside flashed "Live Music," but it was still early and most of the people inside were scattered among dark booths.

I heard Camille say, "My ride's here," before my eyes adjusted. Her yellow shorts and a top only a little bigger than the one I took off her that afternoon made her easy to find even in the dim bar.

Three men were in a standoff around Camille, and she seemed small and uneasy between them. One of the men looked like he had some authority; he sized me up and nodded to Camille. I wasn't going to stay and chat. She slipped off her bar stool, and I caught her hand. I almost pulled her off her high-heeled pumps on the way to the door.

Camille was a little out of breath when I stopped by the car. She stood a step away and said, "Thanks for getting here so fast." I opened the door, and she leaned on me as she dropped into the seat. She smelled of alcohol.

I climbed in behind the wheel and took a long look at Camille for the first time. She looked away and shifted in the seat. "I have a lot of questions," I said. "But I haven't eaten. Have you?"

Camille shook her head without saying a word. She stayed immersed in her own thoughts. I stopped at the first Waffle House I found, and the waitress was waiting when I sat down across from Camille. She ordered the chicken. I had a burger, and I watched her hide behind her coffee cup.

"What were you doing at Clyde's. What was that about?" I asked.

Camille looked away and watched a pickup pull up outside the window. "I was upset when you left. I wanted to calm down and forget about all that. I knew about Clyde's, and I couldn't think of any place else." She put her coffee on the table and watched the lights reflected in the cup. "We'll need to go back later—maybe tomorrow—and get the car."

"It's cold in here," Camille said. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her arms.

"You must be in a draft," I slid out of the booth and pointed to the seat where I'd just gotten up. "Sit here. I'll keep you warm."

Camille went on talking to her cup. "Two of those guys you saw at the bar started hitting on me almost as soon as I got there." She stopped and smiled at the waitress while she refilled her coffee. She waited until the waitress was gone and said, "I don't think there's a way to paint a pretty picture of this, so here it is... You know I came here for food and sex. There was the sex with no strings and no promises."

Maybe I wasn't enough. Maybe the strings were too tight. "Do that often?" I asked, and Camille pushed herself away from me.

"Never—not since Dodie. It was the alcohol. I don't drink much either.

"I could have done either guy. It didn't make a difference to me, but I got this giddy idea of setting up a fight. I'd be the winners prize." She shook her head and sagged against me again. "I don't know where that came from, but the idea turned me on—a lot.

"They played along with me for a while, but they didn't need to fight. They started talking over me about where they were going to take me and what they were going to do to me, and I didn't feel safe."

"Who was the other guy?" I was having a hard time believing Camille's story, but I wanted to find out where it was going.