Two Couples, One Houseboat

We were drunk, all of us. Best of friends on vacation. Together on a small houseboat anchored in a small offshoot of the upper Mississippi river.

My husband at the time, Jim and I and our best friends Justin and Claire had been drinking literally since breakfast, fishing, playing cards and just generally having a good time under the hot sun of an early June. We had no place we needed to be and plenty to eat and drink. It was just so relaxed.

Justin and Jim worked together, Justin being a big buyer for the clothing lines that Jim sourced designs for in Europe and had made in Asia each year. They had been friends forever – long before Jim and I married – and Claire was Justin's bride of just over a year.

Justin and Jim were very similar people really, both educated businessmen in their late 30's who enjoyed golf, tennis, fishing, skiing and anything else outdoorsy. Both going a bit gray at the temples, with grey piercing eyes, they looked the parts they played in their businesses. Jim was always smiling – a consummate salesman – and Justin looking just a bit harried and impatient as the big retailer who bought clothing for four different retail chains all owned by the same big conglomerate.

Claire and I couldn't have been much more different. A dark haired beauty raised in Paris and New York before going away to college at an Ivy League school, Claire was tall, thin and sophisticated with a models build and quiet sexy presence. She looked stunning in a swimsuit, preferred a crisp white wine to beer, and tended to talk about things like coming interest rate changes and the latest trends in consumer confidence. She and Justin could have been described as a perfect "power couple" as her daddy's money and degree in finance complimented his power as a major buyer and they got invited to all the right parties and spoke at all the right conventions.

I, on the other hand, grown up on a farm in the Midwest in a no-where town and my education was the school of bad decisions. There was lots in my past to be embarrassed about – even ashamed of – and I didn't talk about it much as there wasn't much good to tell. I was quick with a joke, not afraid to ask the dumb questions and a good listener legitimately interested in the answers, and I like to think that I was smart but never given the opportunity to learn and better myself. I met Jim through a love of on-line poker rather than at a dinner party in the Hamptons. Jim loved me because he had a thing for brassy blondes with big tits and I was okay with that. I didn't need to be his intellectual equal as long as he treated me right, and I had known enough bad men in my time to spot a good one when I saw him.

Claire and I hadn't clicked when we met, but I had grown on her and vice versa. I sensed she lived in a very competitive, cut throat world and I was not of that mould, so she learned she could relax around me and have fun. At first thought she was a bit of a stuck-up twat, but once she relaxed and let her guard down I found a partner in crime. She legitimately enjoyed getting drunk, loud and obnoxious as a change of pace from her real world, and drunk, loud and obnoxious were key qualities that had made me who I was as a person.

We had been on the water for three days and still had another few more before we needed to get the houseboat back up to the docks before heading back to the real world. It was long enough to get used to the confined space of the floating condo and drop our inhibitions and pretense. We had started in formal resort wear and now it was jean shorts and flip flops. It was all total relaxation and no worries about things like putting on make-up or making the beds.

The boys had been up early that morning to fish, something they loved to do. They had headed off in a little boat we'd been tugging behind the floating Winnebago, so that they might get into those tight little finger tributaries that were home to the big prized catches.

Claire and I had been sleepy heads and both rolled out of bed well after the sun had warmed the decks, we met on the back deck of the boat over coffee. It was a sweatshirt and cutoffs for this bitch and Claire had the face of an obvious hangover sufferer over a thin tank top and gym shorts. Bras were for working people and we were on vacation.

"Honey you look like I feel."

"What possessed us to open up that bottle of Absinthe? I thought that shit was illegal here?"

"Good thing it was a small bottle. I think they thought it was mouthwash when they saw it in my luggage or I never would have been able to get it into the country."

It had been cool on the water overnight but was warming rapidly as the sun started to do its job and the coffee worked its morning magic. At some point Claire was industrious enough to get up and toast up a few bagels and I eventually had enough energy and control of my motor skills to fish a few Tylenol codeine tablets I'd hoarded from a recent doctors visit. We washed down the bagels and happy pills with another round of liquid job and watched the river go by.

We didn't say much for a while. I put a lot of value in a person who can sometimes just shut the fuck up and I think she did too. Coffee is a morning sacrament made better by baked goods and low level painkillers, and a quiet enjoyment of the going sideways experience brought us closer together I think. Finally, I felt like things had kicked in a bit, and I got up and started collecting the empty beer bottles & full ashtrays and doing all the small domestic duties.

Claire's morning caffeine and codeine was still doing its work so I let her heal. A hangover is a horrible thing and I had been there.

As I was washing up a few things in the sink, I mistakenly splashed a lot of water onto the front of the sweatshirt I was wearing. It felt heavy and soggy, so I simply took it off and threw it aside.

I didn't figure Claire would even see as I was going to go in and change into my swimsuit after a few more dishes, but didn't realize that Claire had brought in the mornings coffee cups and was standing right behind me.

"Oh, goodness. Didn't see you there." I was just a bit embarrassed being topless.

"No problem dear. Nothing I haven't seen before."

I had never been naked of near naked around Claire – she just meant that she had general experience seeing others undressed as she was very active at the country club and did Yoga, tennis, golf and just about anything else that was young, expensive and fabulous.

Claire handed off the cups and they went into the dishwater long enough for a rinse and then dry and put away. Claire tossed out the crumbs and wiped the tables and we were essentially done.

"Well, that was a lot of work. I'm exhausted." (It had been like 10 minutes of work.)

"I told Justin we should have brought the maid, but he said the whole point was that we should be roughing it and learning about nature." She said this as she was clicking off the tv that had been providing background noise all morning and grabbing a diet coke from the refrigerator.

"Time to go get some morning sun wouldn't you say?"

"Top deck?"

"Let's go."

Normally this would have been a signal for us to go get our swimsuits and a 55 gallon drum of the sunscreen we'd been using all day every day, but for some reason we simply climbed the stairs and wondered over to the deck chairs. I was still topless – it didn't matter as we were in the middle of nowhere and I hadn't even thought about it – and Claire stripped off here tank top before lying back on her chair, giving me a quick view of her little boyish nipples and small yoga toned belly and chest.

"Real sun worship today, right? Topless tanning?"

"Justin isn't going to like this. He loves the tan lines."

"Me too. A visual guide for Jim. If he licks the white skin we'll get along okay."

She laughed out loud at that, and we both settled back for a little warmth on our bodies and a post breakfast clean-up recovery.

We had been down for about 20 minutes or so when Claire got up and showed me an empty diet coke can that she had been sipping off of. Her way of saying she was going down for more and asking if I wanted anything. I ordered up a water bottle and she pattered down the steep stairs on bare feet.

When she returned, she had the cola can and the water bottle and a book of matches. There was a small "pinner" joint in her mouth too. (A "pinner" for those that don't know the lingo, is a joint that is very, very thin and usually contains either very strong pot or a combination of hash and tobacco.) We had never smoked out before together, and she had a bit of a "this cool" look on her face.

"You know that I'm down for that right?"

"Figured you were – but sometimes you never know. Justin hates it."

"Justin isn't here. Let's smoke."

It was a bit breezy on the water and we were exposed, so it took about eight matches and a bit of huddling together to get joint lit, and given it's small size, just a minute or so to finish the small morsel.

"Props to your dealer. What the hell was that?"

"Just a little something I picked up in Toronto last week. Hash oil dipped."

"Wow, I didn't know the Canadians could do things like that. I give them an "Eh" for effort on that. "

Claire and I had huddled to keep the joint lit, but slid back into our chairs after throwing the small roach off the deck into the water. Tonight some catfish was going to eat that and have some pretty wild wet dreams.

"That tanline joke is funny." (Claire was referring to my "lick the white parts" joke from earlier.) "I'm going to use that."

She casually got up, dropped her gym shorts and underwear and lay back down on the chair. She grabbed her tank top and put it between her legs, laying it in such a way that just the narrow shoulder strap covered her well trimmed "landing strip" pubed muff in such a way that only the very most intimate parts of her intimate parts would be protected.

She giggled – a deep naughty giggle of a kind I didn't know Ivy League women could even make – and lay back further so that her whole body was getting sun. Well, every bit of her whole body except her cooter, which was covered with that narrow strip of shirt.

I liked Claire a little more all the time – and the idea of going full monty for a bit sounded good to me. "That looks more comfortable than these shorts" I said.

A pop of a few buttons and a quick sweep and raise of the ass and they were off me and onto the deck. I spread my legs as I enjoyed the feeling of the sun going where normally the sun don't shine.

"You aren't going to cover a bit to get that tan line?"

"Not necessary Claire. Being serious, I couldn't stop Jim's tongue from hitting the right places if I wore medieval armor and a fucking chastity belt. The man's an animal."

"Lucky you!"

Claire's shit was good. I lay back and it was borderline hallucination time for a while. Bright colors even with my eyes closed and the soft constant sound of the moving water on the river created a serine vibe that I really was grooving on.

I looked over at one point and Claire had nodded off – seemingly while in the act of doing an adjustment on the shirt in her crotch as the finger from her hand seemed to be touching the top of her mons. I didn't really think she had been masturbating – I hadn't heard any movement – but perhaps she was having a hot drug inspired dream. She had a shit eating grin on her face and her whole body had little beads of perspiration.

(I think it's something they must teach in yoga class, those little beads of sweat. They looked so good on her skin. Like something from a photo shoot in one of those magazine's Jim had hidden in the garage. When I sweat I look like I have been frying fish or something.)

The idea of a quick nap sounded pretty good, so I closed my eyes as well, and I guess I fell right to sleep. When I opened them again, Jim was looking down at me and the sun was much higher up in the sky.

"It's a vision of loveliness girls, but I think you had best get some cover on or you are going to absolutely fry your goodies."

Justin – who was also standing above us – said "Yeah, and I think we have plans for those later. He looked down with a bit of comedic lust. "Gosh, I hope we do."

Instinctively, Claire jerked up and grabbed her shirt, attempting without a lot of success to cover herself and only probably looking more sexy and luscious by doing so.

I sat there – legs still open like they were when I had fallen into a stupor – and finally realized that I was putting on a show and took a minute to actually close them though I didn't even have anything to cover up with. (My sweatshirt was still downstairs.)

I noticed Justin checking me out and Jim checking out Claire and didn't think much of it at the time. Boys will be boys after all.

Justin didn't seem to know where to stare first, at my tits which are as big as Claire's are small, or at my crotch which I've kept bald as a babies ass since high school.

Jim seemed less lewd about his leering, but you could tell he was enjoying this and seemed to take a bit of enjoyment from how shy and embarrassed Claire was acting.

I got up first and ordered the men to turn around, which they didn't immediately but eventually ceded to my demands. (Justin didn't until I think he had memorized every freckle and bump on my boobs.)

I helped Claire exit her chair, which was more difficult than it sounded as we were both still a big high, and made a big deal about hiding her behind me as we did a strategic retreat down the stairs. Jim and Justin provided the laugh track as we stumbled naked down to our bedrooms, where I took a few minutes and put on a swim suit. Claire – clearly still feeling vulnerable – had put on a colored golf shirt and golf shorts.

We returned to the top deck and the men. We got the blow by blow about their mornings forage and the punch line to the story was that the dinner menu was set and would include former river residents done on the grill with some lemons and a light sauce.

The men had been up since the butt crack of dawn, and Jim in particular smelled like he had personally wrestled a few of the fish in the boat after wading through a pond full of fish shit and old gym socks. I made the none to subtle suggestion that they should do a quick clean on their mornings catch using the table provided on the front of the boat, clean the guts up and put the fish in the fridge,

Then – and only then – Claire and I just might agree to meet with them in our respective cabins where we might be persuaded to help them shower and remove the gunk, funk and stink off their bodies.

This was a plan that the boys were ready to invest in, so they went forward to the small table/sink that sat at the front of the boat and was intended for the unpleasant task of gutting and cleaning the fish. Claire and I just sat for a minute and looked at each other with a bemused expression. Again, it had been some good, very strong shit, so we were still both a bit stoned and had some trouble forming words longer than a few syllables.

Soon enough the men came back into the main cabin with their fish fillets, taking a minute to wrap them in a black trash bag before they put them into the fridge. Both grabbed a beer and headed for the bedrooms.

Claire smirked and said "I think we're needed in the showers."

"Yeah, I think so too."

"Don't use all the hot water."

"Honey, I'm not even sure we're going to be turning the water."

"I smelled those two. You're going to need to turn on that water."

I turned and made my way to our bedroom on the boat. Claire's was across the hall.

At one point early on, I heard Claire say loudly, "No, No, No! Shower first. Absolutely not! You stink like a dead fish!"

I myself, I was more concerned about the bed clothes than anything, so although I am not much on standing up sex, I did in fact coax him into the shower and we probably used way too much hot water.

When we got out, we could hear Claire and Justin. I know they hadn't been in the shower the same time we were, so I guess Justin had gotten his way after all. I had even more respect for Claire knowing she was in there fucking a guy who had fish guts under his finger nails and she had probably told him the "lick the white parts" joke.

Their shower didn't kick on for another 30 minutes or so and when it did it was on for an awfully long time. You go girl.

I finally got up and left the bedroom at maybe 4 PM or so. It had been athletic sex and I had some buzz to sleep off anyway, and fucking and napping was a great way to spend a vacation day. Jim was still asleep and might be for another hour or so.

Claire was heating up the tea kettle when I left the bedroom – which seemed crazy to me as it was so warm. She explained she had just woken up too. When the time came I had a cup with her just because a bit of caffeine sounded good.

Claire was now in a short light blue sun dress and flats – her third wardrobe change of the day – and I had taken the opportunity to dress similarly in a light skirt and sleeveless blouse with some sandals. We both wore necklaces and other adornments. It was kind of unspoken that we dressed up a bit for dinner each night. Don't know why. Just did.

We grabbed our cups and went to the back patio. It had become our place to talk, generally being less windy than the top deck and also had benefit of some shade.

Claire was still not over our little peep show earlier in the day.

"Well that was just so embarrassing."

"Yeah, but its okay. We're all adults here. I think Jim and Justin have both seen naked women before us."

"But Justin couldn't stop looking at your body. What a pervert he was. He was like a hungry little boy."

"He can look if he wants. It's not like Jim was better. He has a thing for tight little smallish butts and that's not something I have for him. I'm surprised I got him to actually turn around."

She blushed. "My butt isn't that small!"

"Like a little boy Claire. I bet whenever you pass the church all the priests get a stiffy."

We giggled at that. I knew Claire had grown up catholic and had had a brother that was a choirboy so she got the reference. A bit of irreverence at the expense of the pope and his minions seemed to lighten her up a bit.

I asked her about what it was like to grow up in two countries – she had spent time in both Europe and in New York and she shared stories of the little differences. I was due to take my first ever trip to Europe later that year and had a thousand questions that Claire was happy to answer. The time went fast.

The tea went away and magically a bottle of chilled wine appeared courtesy of Jim, who had emerged from the bedroom dressed smartly for the evening in black slacks and a deep read shirt with his boat shoes that spoiled the otherwise handsome effect. (Every man seemingly has one pair of worn out shoes that he just won't give up. An old pair of Topsiders were Jims pair and I later in the week threw them in the river as I was so sick of seeing them.) He began, stocking the fridge with beverages for the evening, checking water and propane levels, and testing the tie up on the small fishing boat we towed behind the big house boat. Man stuff.

Justin was likewise alive and moving around. Ever efficient – Justin was already doing sous chef work preparing sauces and cutting up vegetables. (I love a man who can cook.) He looked spectacular as usual in tan slacks and a dark blue button up. Justin had great style in his dress and the cut of his trousers once again reminded me that there were many reasons to be jealous of my good friend Ms. Claire.

We went to work on the bottle. Claire usually not a heavy drinker until later in the evening, was making short work of it and I did my best to keep up. Jim came in to pour a glass for Justin and himself and found the bottle came up short – so he quickly had another delivered.