Nereids Ch. 01

Jack turned to follow the younger man's eyes. He quickly spotted the blonde woman, round with pregnancy, with a young boy in tow. Then he recoiled in surprise, a rush of familiarity washing over him.

She could be Susan's sister, he thought, picturing his own wife. But then he brushed off the similarities. Still..., he thought. He glanced at David's wife a second time, and had to fight not to stare.

"Beth!" David called, starting toward her.

**

Beth looked up at the sound of her name. She was already running late, and it took her a moment to realize that one of the two men walking toward her had called out. With the sun behind them, it took her another moment to recognize David. She didn't know the other man.

I don't know anyone on base, she thought with a familiar stab of frustration.

During the course of David's training, they had moved several times, and she'd had to meet new people and make new friends at each base. Each was a test of her social graces, and she'd always been amazed when she survived with more aplomb than she thought she had in her. Once again, she pasted on her "meeting new people" smile and scooped Paul into her arms.

"The Lieutenant was nice enough to give me a lift," David said to her as he drew near. Then, thankfully, he took Paul from her. "Is everything okay?" he asked. "When you were late, I—"

"Everything's fine," she assured him. "We just had to wait, that's all." Her spirits lifted in silent amusement as David remembered his manners and gestured to the man next to him.

"Honey, this is Lieutenant MacLean."

"Jack," the man said, extending his hand.

Beth shook it. He was a handsome man, a little shorter than David, but with the same preternatural confidence. His hair was dark, although lighter than David's almost-black, and he had a friendly, open smile. Something in his blue eyes made her own smile turn genuine.

"I won't keep you," he said. "I'm sure you're ready to get off your feet..."

As if on cue, Beth felt the baby kick, and she put her hand to her back to steady herself.

"...so I'll be quick. My wife and I would like to invite you to dinner. You know, sort of welcome to the neighborhood."

"Jack and his wife live one street over," David explained.

"I'll ask Susan to give you a call this evening," Jack said, "after you've had a chance to get home and relax... as much as you can relax with a two-year-old running around the house," he added.

Beth smiled, her opinion of him growing.

"Why don't you come over tomorrow, around eighteen hundred," he said to David. "We have a color television, and I can throw some steaks on the grill. How's that sound?"

When David looked a question at her, Beth smiled gratefully. Her pots and pans were still packed, in boxes deceptively labeled "Kitchen," stacked by the movers in a haphazard pile. Her silverware had made it into a box labeled "Living Room," and she'd only discovered it by accident.

And since TV dinners are not the way my mother raised me to feed my family..., she thought archly. "That's very nice, thank you," she said aloud, in answer to David's unvoiced question.

David turned to Jack and nodded. "Thank you, sir. We'll be there."

**

Beth let David get Paul from the back seat as she awkwardly climbed out of the car, a casserole dish in hand. After two hours of digging through boxes containing everything from spices to family photos, she'd managed to locate enough of her cookware to make green bean casserole.

Once she steadied herself on the walk, she looked at the MacLeans' house. It had a well-manicured lawn, with a sea of gold and orange mums planted in pots by the front door. When David rang the doorbell, Beth felt herself tense up. She relaxed when a dark-haired woman opened the door and smiled, warm and inviting.

"You must be David and Beth," the woman said. Then she bent down and fixed Paul with a sparkling blue eye. "And you must be Paul."

Beth put her hand on the back of Paul's head and stroked his hair. "What do you say, Paul? Yes, ma'am?"

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated dutifully.

"I'm Susan," the woman said, still at his level. "Pleased to meet you." She gifted him with another smile and then straightened. With a gracious gesture, she invited them into her house. "Jack's in the back with the grill," she said to David.

"Um... thank you," he said.

Beth extended the casserole dish. "I know Jack said we didn't need to bring anything, but..." She felt a wave of relief when Susan smiled in understanding.

"Men simply don't understand how much work is involved in fixing dinner," she said, a smile in her eye as she glanced at David. "So it's a good thing they have us to look after them, isn't it?"

Beth's answering smile was genuine—as genuine as David's abashed expression. They'd argued over whether or not to bring the casserole. He'd insisted that it would be an insult to Jack, a superior officer. But she had steadfastly refused to go to another woman's house empty-handed.

"Can I get you a beer, David?" Susan asked as she ushered them toward the kitchen.

Before he could answer, two boys raced into the house from the backyard.

"Mom," the oldest shouted, "Dad says he's ready for the steaks."

"Kirk, use your inside voice," Susan said.

Beth smiled as the second boy merely blinked and pulled back a bit, startled by the presence of strangers.

"Kirk, Doug," Susan said, "I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, and their son Paul."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Kirk said formally, stepping forward.

Beth hid a grin as David shook the boy's hand with equal gravity. The younger boy followed suit, but seemed shier than his brother.

"Boys," Susan said, "why don't you show Paul your toys?"

The younger of the two simply raced back outside.

Susan blinked in surprise and covered her embarrassment with a diffident smile.

"I'll do it," Kirk said. Then he extended his hand to Paul, and Beth watched the two of them disappear down the hall.

"Honey?!" Jack called from outside. "Kirk?!"

"Just a minute, Jack," Susan called back. When she reached for a platter of thick steaks, David stepped forward.

"I'll get those," he said, and headed out the back door.

Susan's eyebrows lifted, as if to say "Oh, my."

For a moment, silence descended upon the two women, and Beth fought not to fidget. Her brief phone conversation with Susan had been cordial, but had hardly left her with a sense of the woman herself.

Meeting other wives was always a mixed experience, and Beth never knew how to react. Some women were stiff and formal, conscious of their position as officers' wives. Others were friendly and supportive, all-too-familiar with the hardships of life at the whim of the US Navy.

"Can I get you a Coke?" Susan asked at last.

"Yes, thank you."

Susan paused for a moment and then laughed.

Beth felt her breath catch, and she wondered if she'd misjudged the other woman.

"You know," Susan mused aloud, "they call it soda out here. I never have gotten used to that. Back home, it's Coke. Whether you want Coca-Cola, Royal Crown, or anything else, you just call it 'Coke.' Have you ever noticed that?"

Beth nodded, her nervousness turning to amusement.

"You don't sound like you're from around here," Susan explained, opening the bottles with a church key, "so I guess I just slipped into an old habit." She turned with a smile and extended the bottle. "So, where are you all from?"

"Florida," Beth said. Then her eyes widened as she recognized the familiar twang in the other woman's voice. Definitely not a flat California accent, she thought. "Where are you and Jack from?"

"South Carolina," Susan said, affecting a stronger drawl. "Ain't that a-mazin'?"

Beth smiled at the other woman's disarming laugh. Not stiff and formal at all, she thought with an almost palpable wave of relief.

"Now, how did two shining examples of Southern gentility end up in a place like this?" Susan asked, her lips quirked up in a smile.

Beth had met enough pilots' wives that she'd become a quick judge of character, and she decided that she liked Susan MacLean. She liked her a lot. Not only was she a gracious hostess, but she had a dry sense of humor. And with a secret inner smile, Beth relaxed as she watched David and Jack together, talking like long-lost friends.

At dinner, the steaks were juicy and delicious, and Jack had two helpings of her casserole. Susan asked for the recipe, although Beth was certain that the other woman could make green bean casserole in her sleep. The men talked about flying, while she and Susan carried on a conversation about their adventures with military moves.

At eight o'clock, Susan put her sons to bed, and David moved the sleeping Paul to Jack and Susan's bed. Then the couples adjourned to the living room.

"You must be exhausted," Susan said to Beth.

Beth smiled politely, determined not to show how tired she really was. She was enjoying herself, and the anxiety of a new place had vanished entirely.

"Here," Susan added, "let me get a pillow to put behind your back. When I was pregnant with Doug, I couldn't find a comfortable position to save my life."

Jack and David shared a knowing look, and Beth made a show of grimacing at them.

"You think we're kidding?" Susan asked rhetorically. "You try getting pregnant sometime."

"Not me, babe," Jack said.

Beth settled into a comfortable position and silently thanked the other woman for her attention. After her harrowing day with the movers' uninformative box labels, and then the argument over the casserole, she was ready for a break.

Around her, the conversation ranged far and wide, although she was content to merely listen. But when Susan began talking about her father—an industrialist turned resort owner—Beth sat forward.

"Like a vacation resort?" she asked, speaking for the first time in many minutes. The other couple shared a discreet look, which she thought odd.

"Yes," Susan said without pausing. "I grew up on a large... well... I guess you'd call it a plantation. We didn't exactly have a manor house, but we had fields and forests, lakes and streams."

"Wow," David said. "That must've been nice."

Susan smiled. "It was. It was kind of isolated, but I love the area. Have you ever been to South Carolina?"

David shook his head.

"My family drove through it on the way to Virginia once," Beth said. "But other than that..." She shrugged. "Did you live there all your life? Until Jack joined the Navy, I mean."

"Mmm hmm," Susan said. "Jack grew up in Charleston, and I'm from a little town called York."

"So, how did you two meet?" Beth asked.

Susan grinned at her husband.

"In Charleston," Jack said, a flash of mischief in his eye.

"Oh?" Beth said.

Susan smiled and set her hand atop Jack's.

Beth felt a rush of affection for David and did the same. When he looked at her, she smiled and gently squeezed his hand.

"I was a student at the College of Charleston," Susan explained, "and Jack was a cadet at the Citadel. He kept asking me out, but I wouldn't have anything to do with him."

"So you were playing hard to get?" Beth said, warming to the tale.

"At first, no. I had a boyfriend at home, and I wasn't looking for anyone else. But Jack eventually wore me down, and I said yes."

Jack smirked.

"We went to a Christmas dance," Susan continued. "A military dance. My father made uniforms during the war, but that was the closest I ever got to the military."

"Little did she know what she was in for," Jack said roguishly.

Beth glanced sidelong at David, who grinned.

"Can you blame a girl for enjoying all that attention?" Susan asked, disingenuous and wry.

"Absolutely not, dear," Jack said. Then he turned to his guests. "She discovered that she liked all that pomp and circumstance."

"And one thing led to another?" Beth asked.

"One thing led to the back seat of my car," Jack said, his grin a leer.

"Jack!" Susan mock-scolded.

Beth and David shared a grin.

"Yes," Susan said, "one thing led to another." Then she rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. After a moment she politely turned to Beth. "How did you two meet?"

Beth felt her face heat at the memory.

David spoke up when she hesitated. "Beth's brother, Hank, was my ROTC mentor in college. And when he brought me home for dinner, Beth was wearing this blue dress..." He trailed off, his expression dramatic and rapturous.

"Oh, stop it," Beth said. "It wasn't that tight."

"It wasn't how tight it was," David said. "It was that the strap kept falling down, and I was hoping I'd see more than your shoulder."

At that, the couples laughed.

"Men," Susan said, looking at Beth.

Beth rolled her eyes and nodded, her face still flushed at the memory of that first night with her then-future husband. As she thought about all the nights since, she felt her face heat even more. When she finally mastered her emotions, she glanced up. Susan merely arched an eyebrow and smiled.

The evening eventually wound down, and the couples said their goodbyes. David carried a sleeping Paul to the car and gently set him on the back seat. Beth was beyond exhausted, but she had enjoyed herself.

"It was lovely meeting you," she said to Susan.

"It was a pleasure meeting you too," Susan replied. "Call me tomorrow and I'll come over to help you unpack."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Beth demurred.

"Nonsense," Susan said. "I'd be glad to help. Besides, it'll keep me off the streets." She and Jack shared a smile.

Beth acquiesced.

"We had a lovely evening," Susan continued as David rejoined them, the car idling in the driveway. "Thank you very much for coming. And thank you for the casserole. It was delicious."

After their final goodbyes, David helped her to the car, where she looked into the back to make sure Paul was still asleep. He was, and she slid into front seat as David walked around to the driver's side.

"I like Jack," he said as they drove home.

"Mmm hmm. I like Susan, too," Beth said. "They're a nice couple."

"You were right about the casserole," David said at last. "Sorry." He paused. "I know I don't say this often enough," he began hesitantly, "but I love you."

She felt a rush of warmth. "I love you too."

"And I know it's been hard on you, moving to California and all. But this is what I do."

"I knew what it would be like when you asked me to marry you," she said softly. "And I wouldn't trade it for the world."

He smiled at her, once again the bashful young man she'd fallen in love with years before.

**

Jack turned off the porch light.

"I like Beth," Susan said.

He smiled and pulled her close. He reached around her middle and felt her soft stomach beneath her dress.

"I like David too," she said.

"I'll bet you do," he said, his hips pressed against her from behind. He felt his dick stir, and raised his hands to cup her breasts.

"Is that all you ever think about?" she said.

He facetiously paused. "Yep, pretty much."

"You're terrible!"

In spite of her protests, he felt her press back against him. She sighed when he released her breasts, but then practically purred as he reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. He lowered it with a hiss, revealing the smooth expanse of her back, broken only by her bra. With a practiced twist, he popped the catch.

"And what exactly do you have in mind?" she asked, a smile in her voice. "As if I didn't already know."

Without answering, he put his hands on her shoulder blades, his fingers worming under her bra straps as he pushed them and the dress over her shoulders. She pulled her arms free, and the bra fell to the floor as the dress gathered around her waist. He cupped her breasts, testing their weight. As he did, he pressed his lips to her ear and kissed it.

"So you like David?" he asked softly, suggestively. "Do you think they could be the right couple?"

She half-turned in his arms and glanced back at him.

Susan's parents didn't own a normal vacation resort—it was a nudist resort, which Jack had learned shortly before he took her home for the first time. He wasn't a prude—far from it—but he'd still been shocked. He was also surprised when he met her parents in person. His own parents had been hopelessly straitlaced, but Susan's were nothing of the sort.

Douglas and Marilyn York were a liberal, tolerant couple, and they hadn't even batted an eye when their daughter arrived with a much older boyfriend. Instead, they welcomed him into their home and made him part of the family.

They were very affectionate with each other, too, and shared a youthful vigor that he'd rarely seen in a couple their age. Several years later, after Marilyn's death, Susan told him about her parents' real relationship: they were swingers.

Jack knew that he was fairly liberated, even for the times, but the Fifties had been far more prudish than the Sixties. Yet Susan's parents had created an enclave of freedom in the South Carolina Piedmont—freedom from clothes, certainly, but also from other people's expectations and narrow-minded sexual mores. Not surprisingly, they didn't share society's oppressive need for conformity, either.

When Jack learned that the Yorks were swingers, he was stunned. He thought he'd hidden it well, but Susan had sensed his knee-jerk disapproval. To his credit—and probably for the first time in his life—he'd questioned his own upbringing, his infallible sense of right and wrong.

Why was it "wrong" to have sex with other couples? Susan's parents obviously loved each other; they certainly had a more open and loving relationship than his own parents had.

Jack's parents had been dead for three years, but he still remembered their stiff formality around each other, as if showing any affection would upset their well-ordered existence.

Susan's parents were different, but he was still surprised when he learned that they didn't maintain any pretense of sexual monogamy. Fidelity—loyalty—was a cornerstone of Jack's existence, and he wondered how a marriage could survive without it. But the Yorks' had. Not only had it survived, it had flourished.

Deep inside, Jack wanted the same kind of relationship with Susan. She'd gotten pregnant while they were still dating, and he'd done the honorable thing. He knew the difference between love and lust, and he definitely loved her. He asked her to marry him, but he hadn't been ready to settle down, and a part of him still wanted to sow his wild oats. He'd never given in to temptation, but he fought a constant inner battle with it.

Unfortunately, he couldn't stop thinking about the Yorks' swinging lifestyle, and he constantly fantasized about having sex with other women. Worse still, some of his most powerful fantasies involved watching Susan have sex with someone else.

Was he a bad husband? Was he a pervert? Could he actually watch his wife have sex with another man? Would she let him have sex with another woman? If they did it, would their marriage survive?

He'd thought about those questions a dozen times—more!—and every time, his thoughts returned to the Yorks. He'd seen with his own eyes how strong their relationship had been, without jealousy or resentment. He wanted that kind of relationship with Susan. He thought he had it already, but a niggling part of his brain (and his loins, he reluctantly admitted) wanted to expand their relationship.

He was happy with his sex life—more than happy—but he still wanted to have sex with other women. And the thought of another man having sex with his wife was a powerful image—nearly as powerful as the rush he felt when the catapult kicked him in the seat of the pants, launching his plane down the carrier's deck.