Seven Seas for Four

When she'd peeked over her shoulder at his bottoms and let him keep back rubbing, did that mean she doesn't mind him being as he can't help but being? Maybe it's related to her coming out of the bathroom braless, nipples like thimbles. She can't help it, either.

He'd been about to do her butt when she'd rolled over.

Her asleep, her undone button, the inside of her breast visible, how much luck has he got left?

Parting the next button reveals what he's after. He's seen her nipples before, of course, but never so directly.

Undoing the button below and the one above exposes her entire breast. He runs a fingertip onto it, an island rising and falling with each breath. He's a lifeboat and docks against the buoy.

He tugs the other side of her gown open as well and does the same.

If she wakes, he hopes she'll think the buttons came undone on their own. Nightgowns could do that. If she doesn't buy it, she might ground him, but she won't tell Dad the reason.

As the hem of her nightgown is up to her knees, he pulls it to where he can touch her panties, at first just where he can tell she has hair, but then lets his finger follow the dent to where it disappears to between her thighs. Does it cause her to stir, or is it just his imagination?

He'd dare not try to get under the material, of course, but it's almost as good, drawing his finger over it, up and down, each time pressing just a little more in. As she's now definitely stirring, he should retreat, but instead pokes the fabric deeper, deep enough in fact to feel the dampness through the cloth.

He's not really doing anything, he tells himself, her panties being where they are, but at the same time knows he's doing something pretty special.

As he's not sure what next to do, he straddles her to where his front does the touching. If she wakes up now, he'll be in deep shit, but for sure won't tell Dad.

Through his pajamas and her panties, he feels her around him and begins to work himself forward. When her hips lift, he pushes into her panties even further. If she wakes up now, maybe she'll let him finish through the fabric before reading him the riot act. For sure they'll have to change into something different.

Only then does he realize the further possibility and slips off his bottoms.

***

KATHY

Watching the mating of arctic wildlife, Kathy learns that male polar bears begin having sex at age six and remain with their female for as much as a week.

It's all she can manage, feigning sleep as Rob undoes the button. Who says you can't play around with your boy in a place like Seven Seas?

Do the employees -- the college girls, especially -- notice more. The girl who ran the boat ride seemed to. The shuttle driver maybe saw where Rob had his hand, but she wouldn't have seen the placement of hers.

She's not that sure she fooled Rob about being asleep on the bus, but so? Families flock to Seven Seas to ride the rides, but other things might happen. It gets complicated.

What she'd found most exciting was that he'd become hard.

It's not until he's removing her panties that she realizes more's about to happen.

It's not as if she's not thought about it today, but she'd never actually thought it might. He's too young and she's his mother. A million reasons.

She feigns deeper sleep and feels the mattress sag as he works his knees between hers. She can't help parting them, but hopefully not that obviously.

It takes a bit for him to find where, and after he does, his entrance is ever so slow. Once in, he hardly moves for the longest time.

It's all she can do to hold herself still, to not take over, but she does her best.

He withdraws, but not fully, and his next feels bolder. Then it's again and again, her wetter and wetter.

Does he think that she'll not awaken, that she'll never know? Would he afterward think he'd done something wrong? Him not knowing it's what she wanted wouldn't be right. A mom owes her boy more. He owes her the same.

All the time she's thinking, she lifts up, falls back, lifts up, falls back. There's no way to not. It's why they came back early. She knows she'll come.

She stabs at the remote to silence a prediction about the environmental effects of increased petroleum extraction. As she's never been good with things mechanical; it's her son who locates the Off.

As she's better with things organic, however, she locks her heels around him so he'll finish in place.

***

SARA

Sara's had a fun day. At the Flagship Light Spectacular, she'd leaned back, covered Dad's arms with hers, and they'd played a guessing game about the fireworks. He'd felt her breasts through her top while they'd debated which colors they best liked, but maybe just because of where she'd moved his hands.

On the elevator, Sara gives him a kiss, a special one, she hopes, as it involves again working his hand onto her breast. As he takes it up as if they were yet at the light show, she knows she's got his attention. Back in their room, she'll buss him goodnight as they head for bed, of course, but here's where to do it right.

The two wait forever for someone to open the latch. "Dozed off," Mom explains, her nightgown clutched around her. "Watching a show about polar bears."

Sara climbs in bed beside her brother, the cover-hog, and as he's already asleep, checks him out. Major cool, what you can do to your brother, him never knowing. Pretty cool what he tries to get away with on you, you the same.

Last year at the shore, Mom and Dad had actually had sex in the motel, thinking they both were asleep, but she'd never asked her brother if he'd really been,

***

DAY 2

Sara

Sara's brain's busy when she wakes. Today she'll order a Tropical Twist, the one where they swirl the foam. Plus get Dad to buy her one of those little seahorses in case she has to do a science fair.

So let's replay yesterday a bit more, she decides.

Mom and Rob footsying while they ate burgers.

Mom latching onto Rob's arm. Since when was her brother such a gentleman?

The two of them skipping the light show.

Mom blaming how long it took to unlatch the door on her being asleep. Her bed hadn't a wrinkle. The one Sara had to share with her brother, on the other hand, had talcum powder on the bedspread.

Mom said they'd been watching a documentary about polar bears. Like she comes all the way to Seven Seas to watch Nature Planet?

Come to think of it, were they late to open the door because they'd been asleep or because they'd been watching TV? She'd said both, Very suspicious, those two.

Mom's panties on the floor. Very, very suspicious.

Mysteries all, but now for the day ahead. Better remember her visor, her Italian one, definitely not the one with a smiling octopus. She'll for sure do more rides on Dad's lap, especially the bouncy ones. For that, she'll wear her gym shorts. Plus her bra that helps her look better.

Shuttle to Seven Seas where the driver, Ahoy, I'm Dorie, welcomes her as "Boatswain," Dad as "Sailor," Rob as "Capitan." and Mom as "Navigator," but then glancing at Rob, decides, "No, First Mate," Mom looks startled.

Once inside the gate, Rob's announcement that he and Mom are off to explore doesn't surprise her. Nor does Mom's ready agreement, definitely not her same-old, same-old self. They're up to something.

"Looks like we're on our own again, then, Mr. Sailor Dad," Sara rules, adjusting her straps.

Climbing the rope ladder at Sailors' Delight, Sara makes sure Dad's right behind. When she warns that she might fall, he saves her, the edge of his push on the inside of her leg. Worked like a charm, she tells herself. Today's going to be so much fun!

Maritime Missile is more her brother's type of ride, she decides -- lots of facts about outer space. An actual rocket wouldn't have an emergency exit. It's in the Sea and Sky Crew Cabin, "Step to the bow, cadets," where she lets their rocket sway her against her dad's elbow, nothing she's not done a million times with boys at school, but there you're holding books.

Rob had mentioned the Hurricane Twister, but hadn't volunteered much. Sara backs herself against her dad, twisting with the storm. Dad being Dad, things take time. The twists work his hold until he's a hand on each breast, but she can tell it's not totally the hurricane's doings. Probably why her brother hadn't volunteered anything about riding this one with Mom.

She wishes she were bigger, but when what you've got isn't much, you need to be better at putting it to use.

She's quick to spot the boys slipping through the crowd fishing for outthrust breasts. Most of the boys are so clumsy at it, but then again, there's hardly reason for them to be sneaky. The setup's to the boys' advantage, she realizes, but it's also about how the fish bait the fisherman.

She watches another mother lagging behind her kids seeming to invite boys to brush against her, surely what she'd not allow at home. One boy passes across two or three times, even.

Not that Sara would snag some cute guy, she realizes, given that her bait's not that competitive, but so what? It's better to fish for the fisherman you came with. It's way safer.

At last in the eye of the sub-oceanic storm, she holds herself motionless so her dad can find her nipples. It might take until the light show to reel him in, is all.

The line for the Sea Cave of Mystery is too long, but Sara knows Rob and Mom did it more than once. As to what they might have done more than once, that's her question. Likely something they'd not be able to pull off on, say, the sea-horse-go-round.

Submarine Deep is exciting. "Buccaneers dead ahead! Prepare to dive!" From the reflection in the glass, Sara knows Dad's not looking at the sunken galleon, and she rolls her shoulders forward as best she can. Not having that much need for it is exactly why she'd chosen her bra. Like her panties, things seem more interesting when eyed on the sly.

The tempest at the sub's stern is way more exciting, however. A girl with pink hair whispers to her about there being too many boys here and puts her hand on Sara's butt. Sara's curious, but as a pair of older girls look to be goosing her dad, goes to his rescue. Once they realize she's his daughter, though, one of them draws her own hand aside and puts Sara's in its place. Dad never catches the switch.

Sara's not sure how long this can continue, but it's resolved when one of the girls whispers, "Have fun tonight," and the two take off.

It wasn't why she intervened, Sara tells herself, just how it worked out. She'd felt his penis lots of times, sitting on his lap, so this wasn't so different, just that it was her hand. He'd not have been the way he was if he'd minded what he thought was the girls' doing. The girls seemed to think that her joining in was more fun than them doing it, themselves, even.

Sara gives it more thought. They'd already made him how he was, but she'd made him more so. It takes strategy, something she's good a keeping her dad from realizing she's his goosy-goosy-gander partner. A dad can be sly, but his daughter's slyer.

OK, his daughter plus two older girls.

It's pretty fun, she had to admit, getting to know more about your dad's penis. It's something you have a right to know about, it having started you off. Unless it was Uncle Larry's, as everybody says she looks so much like Mom.

***

PHIL

Phil hadn't expected Maritime Missile to be so packed, but they're probably not in violation of whatever applies to public rockets. Corporate Counsel for Seven Seas probably wrote the law.

On Hurricane Twister, he watches a boy run his hands over the woman he's holding, perhaps his aunt. Himself holding Sara the same is just how they made the ride. The woman catches Rob's eyes and winks.

Submarine Deep features sea creatures gliding amidst ancient Atlantis. When the floor trembles with the squid attack, he reaches from behind to take Sara's shoulders, from where he can better see her bra.

When a barracuda darts across the seascape, Sara turns to the side and his hand's on her collar. When it drops, her breast feels like an apple, a small one, anyway. Maybe an apple with a raisin on it. He holds her that way until the shark's gone.

As they leave the observation window, the theme music switches from "Yellow Submarine" to "Octopus's Garden" and they pass into a throng in the back where the illumination's mostly blue.

Actually, Phil realizes, it's indeed an octopus garden, legs, arms, hands, torsos all mixed up. The woman and boy Phil had watched on the Twister are there, and Phil hears him call her, "Mom." He's not sure how starfish mate, but imagines it has to do with their middles.

Two girls a bit older than Sara sandwich Phil between them, him rather liking the press, but becoming nervous when one of them reaches for his pants. He turns away, only to find the other waiting. You wouldn't be here, mister; you wouldn't be getting like you're getting if you didn't want us to, he imagines them saying, Relax, sir, or that little girl of yours will notice when you come.

Before they can, though, Sara steps in their way. Saved your daughter who doesn't even know it!

As he steers her toward the exit -- "Shore leave, mates!" -- Sara's hand is on him almost the same way that the girls had been, maybe a little more so, even, as to how much it travels up and down. She doesn't notice anything, though, Phil's pretty sure, as she recalls their escape from the squid.

It's good we're leaving, he realizes. It would be one thing, keeping secret from your daughter that you're being masturbated by unknown girls. It would be altogether another, keeping your climax under wraps when your daughter's the one inadvertently causing it.

As they return to daylight, the woman and boy from the Twister are behind them, the woman smiles at them.

The objective of Speedboat Speedway seems to be ramming your bumper car's bow through the rest of the fleet.

"You're the ballast, dad," decides Ahoy, I'm Zoe, who seems familiar with father-daughter driving teams. "She gets to do the steering," sitting Sara on him. "Try to stay in the water," to both of them.

Sara misses few opportunities to whack those crossing their bow, but at a few knots, such collisions don't do damage.

"Move over, buster," Sara yells at a kid foolish enough to block their path, his mother behind him like a backpack.

Phil tells himself that he's just trying to hold on, his hold where it is, but can't help beginning to rub.

"Got 'em!" laughs Sara, spinning the wheel for drama as they sideswipe another rival, this one captained by a girl, her dad steadying her from behind.

Phil bets that Sara's being so absorbed in being the fastest is why, when he looks over her shoulder and can see her bra, he can tell that she's excited. As nobody can tell, no harm in looking.

He hardly realizes it when he drops his hand under the wheel and onto her shorts, and as she gives no indication of noticing it and her cuff's right there, curls his fingers under it and touches the bottom of her panties.

She parts her legs not really that much, and the waves make her bounce against him, and after a few moments, their craft slows behind the pack.

Don't go there, he tells himself, but he already has, and he begins to run a fingertip over her. Just a little at first, then maybe a little more, even a little bit denting into the fabric. Not that he's trying to do anything, but he's where he maybe could.

He'd have pulled away if he could, but it's her hand on his that makes him keep doing it.

At least their vehicle is away from the others. Ahoy, I'm Zoe probably has her spyglasses on them, but what can he do?

Anyway, they're not the only speedboats to have quit speeding. Both the mom and the boy and the dad and the girl have slowed, too.

Sara tenses and then shudders.

Oh, Jeeze! But after a moment, she giggles and gets back in the race.

At her age, he realizes, it doesn't take much. It of course shouldn't have happened, but sometimes something does.

They head for the dock where Ahoy, I'm Zoe waves a flag "Takes teamwork, right?"

Docking behind them are the girl and father they'd sped past, followed by the mother and boy they'd almost sideswiped. Phil hadn't caught that the mother's braless, but she's most definitely without, the splashing of the racecourse making it even more obvious. The mom and daughter are smiling; the boy and dad, looking a bit flustered until their respective captains give them a kiss.

Ahoy, I'm Zoe calls out, "Do come again," which to Phil seems to be directed to the girls. Bra or no bra, Phil wonders, maybe speed boating works out the same.

***

SARA

When the four of them meet for dinner, Mom and Rob are staring at far-away objects. Those two have a secret, Sara's positive.

"Going to catch the light show again?" Mom suggests with her such-a-fun-idea voice. "They say it's different every night. Rob and I, though, we're just not late-nighters."

"We'll head back, too," Sara informs her, suspecting it's not what her mother wants to hear.

Mom indeed looks disappointed, but turns to Rob and brightens. "But then again, maybe let's see it. We'll find a better place to watch," And then to Sara, "Don't wait up."

Sara tugs Dad to the shuttle and they find a seat removed from the others. It takes just a few moments to get Dad's arm where she wants it. An old pirate trick -- let the merchantman think he's the pirate for a while.

OK, Daddy-O, she decides, a game she'll call "Pirate Prize."

"Merchantman on the horizon!" thinks Pirate Lookout Sara to Pirate Captain Sara.

"All hands on deck and full speed ahead," or whatever captains who wear eyepatches order, as she slides her hand onto the merchantman's thigh.

"Bring her alongside, Matey," she tells herself, pretending to be wearing a lace cuff. "Alongside. A long side." She'd want to remember that one in case she ever writes a story for girls.

She counts to ten for suspense before edging her finger. When a pirate pulls alongside a big boat, its sides loom high, she reminds herself.

"Shiver me timbers and raise the Jolly Roger," she commands herself, not exactly sure what "shiver me timbers" means, but it has a fierce ring.

Dad seems startled and deflects her.

She counts to five in Spanish and re-approaches, him now just feathering above her knuckles. He's by now shut his eyes.

Using her pinkie as a grappling hook, she hoists herself on board, pleased with her seagirlship. She'd pretty much gotten her hand around him on the submarine, but here, it's a pirate's right.

Were she to rob a bank, she'd have to skedaddle before the sheriff arrives, but with a treasure seized on the high seas, you've got time.

No one can see below their seatback. They probably call them bulkheads on a boat bus, though. "Privateering in Private," you might say.

She claims her prize as far as his pants allow. So easy. Probably many hidden treasures have been captured on this very shuttle. Most often, though, the pirate's probably the lad, not the lassie.

She's got the rest of the ride to check him out, but she'll not make him come, picturing him spouting like a whale. The whale theme merits some thought. They call them sperm whales, don't they? The book's called Moby Dick.

Don't worry, Dad, she wants to assure him. Our little Seven Seas game, Mom and Rob need not know about. She won't add that those two have maybe themselves been playing their own little game, Mom's panties on the floor last night perhaps having been an indication they'd played even further.

Actually, nobody seeing through their seat back doesn't mean the driver, a black girl, can't see in the mirror, but she probably sees things all the time.

"Sail on, sister," the driver says to her when they get off.

***