Nereids Ch. 08

Even though Beth was the youngest of three, she was the first to have children of her own. Hank was still sowing his wild oats, and Ginny's husband didn't want children. So Beth's parents doted on Paul and Erin, their only grandchildren.

"My father wants to take Kirk and Doug to Washington, D.C.," Susan said. "He says it's important for them to see the capitol."

They grew quiet for a moment, each wrapped in her own thoughts.

"It'd mean a lot to Jack and me if you and David could come with us on the cruise," Susan said at last. "I don't know where we're going, and I don't know exactly when, but I'd… we'd… like to spend some time with you."

Beth felt an electric tingle. "I'd like that," she said softly. Then she remembered herself. "I mean, we'd like that." She felt her cheeks heating.

Susan chuckled. "We're both so transparent."

Beth's face turned brighter still.

"Talk to David," Susan said at last.

"Oh, I'm sure he'd love to go," Beth blurted. Then, more demurely: "But I'll talk to him."

**

"So that's what they want to do," Beth said, finishing her explanation.

David enjoyed sailing, although he didn't have nearly as much experience as Jack. Beth had been on a boat several times, with her brother or with David, and she enjoyed it. She knew she'd never be a "salty dog," but she loved the water and she didn't get seasick.

The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. The idea of spending several days with Susan held an obvious allure. She still felt a pang of guilt at the idea of leaving Erin and Paul, but her parents were more than capable of taking care of them.

They did well enough with Hank, Ginny, and me, Beth thought wryly.

"A sailing cruise, huh?" David said, drawing Beth back to the conversation.

She nodded. "Jack didn't know where, or when, but he's calling some people he knows."

David's eyes glowed, but Beth couldn't tell if it was the prospect of sailing, or… something else. With a sudden flash of insight, she realized that he was probably thinking about Susan. He knew she was a nudist, and if he felt the same way about her that Beth did… She grinned at the thought, since it fit so perfectly with what she wanted.

He suddenly composed himself. "Jack and I will have to request leave."

Beth nodded tersely, to hide her growing excitement.

"We'll have to check the tides and weather," he continued. "Jack has a lot more sailing experience than I do, which is good. I'm a decent coastal sailor, but I don't know if I could handle the open water navigation. Although," he mused, "it's not that different from aerial navigation, now that I think about it. Only without TACAN, VOR, or DME."

Beth didn't know what the alphabet soup of initials stood for—different kinds of navigation equipment, obviously—but David's enthusiasm was plain enough.

"Still, I think I could manage it," he finished.

"Besides, it'll give you a chance to get to know Susan better," Beth said, testing her theory. David rewarded her with a too-casual shrug. She silently laughed at herself. Never in a million years would she have imagined she'd be happy that her husband had the hots for another woman. "She and I are a lot alike," Beth said, setting her hook, "and I'm sure you wouldn't mind seeing us sunbathe topless."

David didn't blush very often, but he was adorable when he did.

"Although," she continued shamelessly, "we usually sunbathe nude."

"Well, I don't know about that…"

"Oh, don't be such a prude," she said gently. "You know you'd like to see two sexy women in the buff. Admit it."

His blue eyes searched hers, as if looking for the right answer.

"Maybe we want you to look."

His eyebrows shot up.

"You know where Susan grew up," she said. "And she likes men looking at her… but only certain men."

His look of surprise turned to disbelief.

"I think you fit the bill," she stage-whispered. "Besides, you should see her shaved pussy." He almost choked, and she grinned whimsically. "Yep, she's completely bald down there. Jack asked her to shave. She likes the look, so she keeps doing it."

"Do you two really talk about this stuff?" David asked, practically agog.

Beth nodded. "We talk about all sorts of things when you guys are away. I think it has something to do with not getting enough."

"Enough what?"

Beth smiled with affection and amusement. She knew she shouldn't tease him, but she couldn't help herself.

"Never mind," he said. "I get it."

She leaned close. "We talk about all sorts of things," she said, her voice husky with growing desire. "For instance…" She let his anticipation build. "Susan was impressed when I told her how big you are."

"‘Big,' as in…?"

She held her palms apart, about the length of his dick.

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. She knows all about you, big boy."

"Oh, my God," David said, only half facetiously. "I married a madwoman."

"No, not a madwoman," Beth said, "just a horny one. You should feel lucky, though. I know plenty of women who don't enjoy sex. Do you think their husbands look forward to coming home to them? Why do you think Frank Waulk is so uptight all the time?"

"You've got a point," he said. "But still, did you have to tell Susan about my… you know?"

"Your dick?" she practically cooed. Her eyes sparkled. "No, I probably didn't have to tell her, but I guess I was bragging a little."

His blush returned.

"Besides," she continued, "Susan knows me better than anyone. We don't keep many secrets." Except one, Beth silently added, thinking about her attraction to the other woman.

David was speechless.

She took pity on him and decided to change the subject. Then, in a fit of mischief worthy of Susan herself, she had an idea. She scooted closer and peeled back the sheet, exposing his pajama bottoms. "Why don't you start sleeping in the nude," she suggested.

"Why?"

"Because I like the feel of your body next to mine," she said. She wore the top to his pajama set, but silently vowed to stop wearing it in the future. She toyed with a button, drawing his eyes to her cleavage. "I will if you will," she said.

"Will what?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'll sleep nude if you do. It'll be fun. We can pretend we're nudists."

"Nudists?"

"Mmm hmm." She tucked her feet beneath her and began unbuttoning the pajama top. "Don't you want a nudist for a wife?"

"I'll never get any rest," he said, half joking, half serious.

She admitted the truth with a rueful grin.

"But yeah," he said at last, "that sounds like fun." He shucked his pajama bottoms.

Beth eyed his half-hard dick as she tossed her pajama top aside. "Is that for me?" she asked disingenuously.

"Are you going to tell Susan about it?"

"Of course," she said cheerfully.

He reached for her. "In that case, I'll give you something to talk about."

**

With the Yellow Pages in hand, Jack spent the better part of a day confirming what he already knew. Several marinas on the coast had sailboats for rent, but all were under 30尧, for coastal day-sailors. He wanted a live-aboard cruiser with a full galley and plenty of berths. Boats like that were seldom for rent.

He decided to widen his search. Unfortunately, all of his yachting contacts were on the East Coast. The people in those circles proved the old adage "It's not what you know, but who you know." Fortunately, he knew a lot of people, and his first call was to the commodore of the Charleston Yacht Club. The man was an old family friend, and would provide the best entrée into the ranks of the West Coast yachtsmen.

After the obligatory condolences for Jack's parents, the commodore gave him the names of several men: the harbormaster for Catalina Island, and the general managers for the Los Angeles Yacht Club and the St. Francis Yacht Club, in San Francisco.

Jack called Catalina Island first, but the harbormaster was on the docks. He left a message and said he'd call back. Then he dialed the number for the Los Angeles Yacht Club. A man answered on the fourth ring.

Jack said, "I'd like to speak to Stephen Boynton, please."

"Sorry, man, he's on the other line," the man said. "Who's calling?"

"Jack MacLean."

"Okay, lemme see— Hold on, did you say Jack MacLean?"

Jack's brow furrowed. "Yes. MacLean. M-A-C—"

"The MacLeans of Charleston?"

"Yes, why?"

"You used to sail a trim little Concordia yawl?"

"Yes," Jack said, trying not to sound irritated. "Who is this?"

"Jack! It's Lewis Sutherland. How the hell are ya?"

Lewis Sutherland was a few years older than Jack. His father was a wealthy banker and a regular on the East Coast racing circuit. Lewis, on the other hand, was a hippie no-load. He was content to coast through life and live on his father's handouts. He'd never had a real job, and probably never would.

"What're you doing in LA?" Jack asked. And why are you answering the phone at the yacht club? he silently continued. Don't tell me you straightened up and decided not to be a burden on society?

"Steve lets me hang out in the office when I'm here. I've been ferrying boats up and down the coast."

"Ah."

"God! It's good to hear someone from the old days," Lewis said. "How're your parents? Does your father still have that beautiful New York 40?"

"It went down in '62," Jack said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"That sucks. Were you parents okay?"

"They were lost at sea."

"Oh Jesus, man. I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"That's okay," Jack said. "It happened in the Mediterranean. Most folks in Charleston knew, but I don't think it made the news anywhere else."

"Yeah, my dad's been up in Mystic or down in the Caribbean for six or seven years. And I've been out here for about as long. Hey, man, I'm really sorry about your parents."

"You're very kind," Jack said automatically. "We'll have to catch up sometime." He took a deep breath and tried not to think about his parents. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. "Maybe you can help me, Lewis. I'm looking for a boat to rent for a couple of days, maybe a week. I want something big, too—forty or fifty feet. It needs to be beamy, with berths for at least four. A sloop or a yawl with a good sail plan would be perfect. Maybe even a ketch, but nothing gaff-rigged. I don't have the crew to work a boat like that. Do you know anything?"

"You looking for a cruiser?" Sutherland asked. "Or mostly day-sailing?"

"A cruiser. Blue-water."

"A charter with a crew? Or something you can captain yourself?"

"Myself," Jack said.

"How's your Spanish?"

Jack's brow creased. "What?"

"I may have something for you, but it's a one-way cruise to Mexico. If you're interested, it's your lucky day."

"I'm interested," Jack said.

"Cool. Do you remember Wally Erskin?"

"Yeah, of course." Wallace Erskin had a reputation in the sailing community as a ladies' man. They called him Wally One-Eye, for obvious reasons.

"Well, he finally decided to leave New York—something about a chick and a paternity suit—and he's been hiding out in Mexico. He's got some hotel deal going on down in Cabo San Lucas. You know where it is? On the tip of the Baja?"

"I know it," Jack half-lied. He knew the Baja peninsula, but he'd never heard of Cabo San Wherever. He was simply tired of Lewis's too-chummy attitude, and wanted him to get on with the story.

"Anyway, Wally doesn't want to come back to the States—the chick's father and his lawyers, right?—but he just bought a new boat. It's a sweet Bill Tripp design, a 50尧 fiberglass hull."

"Fiberglass? That big?"

"Yeah, Columbia started laying them down last year, and…"

Jack forgot to dislike Lewis as he listened to the description of the boat. It sounded like a real cruiser, with berths for six, a modern navigation suite, and all the amenities.

"Anyway," Lewis finished, "old One-Eye wants me to sail his boat down there. Only, I'm not hip to that. I was planning to winter in el Caribe on my dad's new boat. He's got a 105尧 schooner, and chicks dig the big boats."

"Yeah," Jack said dryly.

"But if you're looking for a blue-water cruiser, I could tell Wally that you'd bring his boat to Cabo. So… can you help an old friend out?"

"Let me think about it, Lewis," Jack said.

"Sure, man. And hey, I really am sorry about your parents. They were always nice to me."

"Thanks, Lewis. I'll let you know about the boat."

**

Beth felt guilty about how quickly she'd made the decision to leave Erin with her parents. Worse, a part of her was convinced that she was simply horny, and wanted to go on the cruise to satisfy her desires.

She knew she was being silly, though. In the first place, she'd have to leave Erin sooner or later, and her parents were perfect for the job. In the second place, Susan might be adventurous, but she wasn't that adventurous. Beth's fantasies of sex with another woman were just that: fantasies.

So the trip with Susan and Jack would be nothing more than a romantic getaway with David. They could relax and enjoy themselves, without dirty diapers, naptimes, or anything else. They could spend time with other adults, talking about adult things and not worrying about young ears. She even admitted to herself that she wanted to show off her body, not only for David, but for Susan and Jack as well.

So Beth was looking forward to the cruise. Even better, Jack already had a line on a boat. Susan didn't know much about it, but Jack was excited.

"You and David should come to dinner tonight," Susan said, looking at her watch as she folded her towel. She was standing up, nude but seemingly unconcerned about who might see her over the hedge. "Cocktails at six, dinner at seven?" she said.

**

Jack was impressed. Susan had somehow orchestrated a camp-out in the Valencourts' backyard for the boys. And David and Beth had left their children with a babysitter. So the four adults had the house to themselves.

Jack was behind the wet bar, mixing drinks: a vodka Collins for Susan, a rum and Coke for Beth, and vodka martinis for David and himself.

"So, tell us about this boat," David said, nodding in thanks as he took his cocktail.

"It's a Columbia 50," Jack said, "and it's the biggest fiberglass hull I've ever heard of. It was designed by a guy named Bill Tripp. I don't know much about him, but he was getting a big name for designing racing yachts about the time I left Charleston. The people I've talked to in the last couple of days say he's really good."

Susan and Beth were paying attention as well, so Jack decided to skip the technical details. Sailing had a language of its own, and he didn't think either woman would understand more than port and starboard, fore and aft.

"The boat itself is called the Nereid," he continued, "and her owner wants her ferried to Cabo San Lucas, at the southern end of the Baja California peninsula, on the Sea of Cortez."

"Why doesn't the owner just sail it himself?" Beth asked.

Jack grinned and winked at her. "He's a bit of a character," he said diplomatically, "and he'd rather avoid a sticky situation in the States."

"He's a rake," Susan said, her eyes twinkling over the rim of her glass, "and he's dodging a spurned woman."

"Hell hath no fury," David quipped. He even managed to look innocent as he said it.

Beth rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay, he's a bit of a womanizer," Jack said. "We used to call him Wally One-Eye. I'm sure you can imagine why."

"And while he's avoiding this woman, we get to sail his boat?" David said.

"Exactly," Jack said. "The Nereid just came out of the factory at Costa Mesa, and they trucked her down to San Diego. Wally was supposed to pick her up there—it's close enough to the Mexican border that he was going to make a quick trip—but he got nervous at the last minute.

"He asked this guy Lewis, a sailing bum I know from Charleston, to ferry the boat down to Cabo San Lucas. Lewis is headed to the Caribbean, though. So he told Wally that I'd bring the Nereid down. To hear Lewis tell it, Wally was more than happy to let me take his boat on her shakedown cruise."

"Why?" Beth asked.

"Lewis is entirely too laid-back, and he's not very reliable. Wally remembers me from regattas, and he's knows I'm a taut sailor. So if I say I'll have his boat to him on such-and-such a date, he knows I'll be there. He wouldn't have that, ahem, ‘luxury' with Lewis."

"What's the boat like?" Susan asked.

"Well, David and I have a training flight to San Diego," Jack said, hiding a smile at the coup he'd managed, "so we can take a look at her. One of my classmates from the Citadel is a Phantom pilot at Miramar, and he'll let us borrow his car."

Susan arched an eyebrow at him, but he merely smirked.

"It sounds like a nice boat," he continued. "And I know Wally—he's not the kind of guy to scrimp on amenities."

"So, what's the plan for the trip?" David asked.

"I thought we'd leave the first week of November. I talked to Lewis, and even though he's a worthless hippie, he's actually a pretty good sailor. He said the winds should be favorable the whole trip. I'll have to look at the charts, but he gave me some tips about the Baja coast. It's a pretty barren stretch of land, though, so we'll mostly be on our own. The boat has more than enough room for stores, and we can trade with local villages for fresh fish and lobster.

"But here's the catch," he continued, sweeping the others with an appraising look. "Lewis said we should plan on a six- or seven-day trip." He held up a hand to forestall objections. "Now, I know we'd talked about a three- or four-day cruise, but this is a pretty rare opportunity. To be honest, I think we should actually plan on nine or ten days."

Beth looked uncertain, so Jack pressed on quickly.

"Lewis told me about this place called Bahia Santa Maria." His Spanish pronunciation was pidgin at best, so he translated, "Santa Maria Bay. He said it has the most beautiful beaches and clearest water he's ever seen. And Lewis has seen a lot of beaches, so he probably knows what he's talking about."

As if on cue, Susan said, "Could we stay in Santa Maria Bay for a couple of days? Do they have a hotel?"

"Better," Jack said, grinning. "The bay is deserted, except for a couple of fishing villages at either end. We could anchor for several days and simply relax. We could swim and skin dive and lounge on the beach. We could drink sangria and make bonfires at night to cook fresh lobsters. We could do anything we want, without a soul for miles around."

"Wow, that sounds pretty nice," Susan said. "Beth and I could go topless."

Beth grinned shyly.

"Or bottomless, too," Susan finished.

David gulped his martini. He almost choked, and ended up in a fit of coughing.

Everyone chuckled once he cleared his throat and apologized.

"Well, how's that sound?" Jack asked, trying not to betray his eagerness.

"Your parents should be able to stay for ten days, right?" Susan said to Beth.

Beth hesitantly nodded.

"It'll give them more time with Paul and Erin. You said they want to go to Disneyland?"

"Yes."

"Well, they won't be rushed," Susan said. "But if ten days is still too long…"

Jack held his breath.

"No, it should be fine," Beth said, obviously still uncertain.

"It'll be all right, sweetheart," David assured her. "Your folks can stay at our house for a couple of days, before they drive down to Anaheim. They can take their time, instead of dragging the kids on a whirlwind tour."

"I guess you're right," Beth said.

"We can probably make the trip in six days," Jack said.