My stories are in the form of a memoir. The tales are first of my growing up in my parent's guesthouse, then progress as I was an hotelier and culminating with me as sailing ship captain.
However, memory is a faulty device, as any trial lawyer will tell you. No two witnesses to any incident relate the same series of events. Memories are colored by experience and imagination. I have been blessed with a surfeit of both.
As I write this memoir at the start of my eighth decade of life, I find the memories of some of the events related have dimmed. I find though, as I continue to write, many of the memories burst forth like a climatic crescendo in a welcoming grotto of pleasure.
Though these stories are, for the most part true; I freely admit that some of the stories are "more true" than others. I can say, however, that all the stories are based on true events. I have changed the names of the participants to obscure their identity and to give them plausible deniability, if they so choose. Rest assured, all the sexual participants mentioned or alluded to are eighteen years old or older!
*****
We were driving east on Hwy 120 approaching Blanchard where we'd catch the interstate north. Through the fog I saw what looked like the Star of Bethlehem low on the horizon. It was almost magical until I realized with disappointment that it was a lighted cross on a hill across the freeway.
I was heading to Vancouver with Victoria McKinney, my parents assistant manager. She had joined the staff at the Baker Guesthouse as dining room manager in June. She was about my parent's age and rather mannish in appearance and behavior. We were heading to spend Christmas with her family in Ladner, BC, near Vancouver. Miss McKinney, as I called her, had brought her nephew down for one weekend in September. Mike was about my age though we seemed to have little else in common. He was in his first year of college, as was I. His claim to fame, he said, was he was the star bam'ton player at Delta Secondary School. It took a while for me to figure out what the heck he was talking about. As he tried to explain, he referred to a shuttle cock! This just further confused me, until we looked it up in the Encyclopedia Britannica, which we had in the library. It was Badminton and the shuttle cock was the birdie!
When he was here at the guesthouse, he and I went on a double date. We went to the movies with my girlfriend Heather and the former flame of my dreams, Sally. It was a bit frustrating for both of us.
My relationship with Heather had progressed to the state of frequent coitus. With Sally and Mike in the back seat of the car, that wasn't going to happen. So in the parking phase of the date, Heather and I were limited to discreet finger fucking and a hand job. Mike wasn't even that lucky, though I found out later Mike had tried to feel Sally up. She restricted him to French kissing.
That slight pleasure was apparently enough for him to invite me up to his parents for Christmas. We got to his parent's house in the suburbs of Vancouver about five-thirty in the evening; it was "pitch" dark. This time of the year the sun set about four-fifteen. I was given Mike's older brother's room. He was off to college at McGill University in Montreal, Quebec. Miss McKinney had the guest room. We had a pleasant dinner. After dinner, Mike and I adjourned to the family room in the basement.
"Jacques, I've been invited to a party at a friend's house, eh? Do you want to come? Trust me; I think you'll enjoy it!" Mike said.
"Sure." I answered, thinking,
'Heck, I have nothing better to do.'
"My girlfriend, Kate will be there. It's at Meaghan McGovern's house. Her parents are out of town. I told Meaghan all about you. I think you will find her friendlier than I found Sally, eh?" He continued.
I wasn't quite sure what he was driving at, thinking,
'Sally let him kiss her on the first date, after all. If Meaghan would be friendlier than that... well it might be a fun evening. I wonder how far she might be willing to go.'
"When is the party?" I asked.
"Tonight at 7:30, it's really a small party, you, me, Meaghan and Kate."
"What time is it now?"
"It's about seven-fifteen, we better get going." He said as he headed up the stairs to the living room where his parents and Miss McKinney were enjoying after dinner drinks.
"Mother, Father. May Jacques and I go over to Meaghan McGovern's house, please? Meaghan wanted to meet Jacques."
"If her parents don't mind, I don't see why not. Don't be too late. We'll be going to bed about ten. Please be quiet if you return after that." Mrs. McKinney said.
"No, I'm sure they don't mind. Okay, if we're later than ten we will be quiet as church mice." Mike responded.
'
Clever, Mike! You really didn't lie. How could her parents mind if they're not there!'
I thought with admiration.
"Good night Aunt Vicky. Good night Mother and Father." Mike said formally as he opened the door.
"Good night Mike and Jacques. Have a good time." Miss McKinney said.
"We will." We both said in unison as we departed.
"What time do we have to be back?" I asked.
"No specific time, technically just before they get up, if we keep quiet. Though, they probably expect us back before midnight." Mike said conspiratorially.
"Oh, okay." I said.
We walked down the street. It was quite a nice neighborhood. Rather reminiscent of the late '50's T.V. show "
Leave it to Beaver
." We went past a couple of houses and came to a large laurel hedge. As we went up the walk to Meaghan's house I could tell it was a bit fancier than the McKinney's.
Mike intimated that he and his girlfriend, Kate, were sexually active, he wasn't sure about Meaghan, but he thought she might put out for the right guy. He further explained that he and Kate attended the University of British Columbia in Vancouver and Megan attended Simon Frasier University in Burnaby.
Mike rang the bell. I heard a melodious chime. Before long Meaghan answered the door. She was pretty, about five-five with shoulder length dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. She was wearing a mini skirt and a light blue Cashmere pullover sweater. She also had a cup of eggnog she was sipping.
"Mike! I'm glad you are here. Kate and I were just about to fix another drink." She said as she gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek.
"You must be Jacques. Welcome to Canada!"
She gave me a hug too, then a kiss on the lips. I hugged her back and to my surprise she slipped her eggnog and booze soaked tongue into my mouth.
"How about a cup of Christmas cheer, eh?"
"Kate! Mike and his hot friend, Jacques from the States are here!" Meaghan yelled into the alcove off the living room.
"Great! I'll fix them a drink too." Kate shouted back.
Kate was blonde, blue eyed, and about the same height as Meaghan. She too was wearing a mini skirt and a white blouse with a beige cardigan.
There were three cups on the counter. Meaghan set her cup next to the others. Kate was free pouring Bacardi 151 rum into the cups. She then topped them off with Eggnog from a carton.
"Bonsoir Jacques, voulez-vous un nog d'oeufs?" Kate says cheerily as she hands me one of the drinks.
"Uh, thanks Kate, but I don't speak French." I said apologetically, taking the drink from her hand.
"I'm sorry Jacques. I thought with a name like..." She starts to say with contrition.
"I'm named for my Great Uncle, who was named for a relative, who was a knight of William the Conqueror in 1066. You know The Battle of Hastings. He was Sir Jacques de Gournay." I said interrupting her mid-sentence and giving way too much information.
"...Anyway, I'm sorry. I guess I was just showing off. You know Canada is a bilingual country." She explained.
"Yeah, I knew that. I'm not exactly bilingual. I do speak a bit of German and Japanese though." I responded, perhaps also trying to show off.
Mike had planned for Meaghan to be my date this evening, but I did find Kate to be quite attractive as well. I nervously took a sip of my drink.
"uhkch, uhkch, cough." I choked as I tried to drink the strongly laced beverage.
"Are you ok Jacques?" Meaghan said stifling a laugh.
Mike patted me firmly on the back. "You all right, winger? Not used to the hard stuff, eh?"
"No, No. It's fine. Just went down the wrong pipe." I responded, slightly embarrassed.
"Don't worry Jacques. Just take smaller sips, eh. Com'on let's go in the other room. I'll put on some music." Meaghan said as she led us to the living room.
Meaghan went over to the stereo and put several LP records on the changer starting with the Bee Gees, Horizontal. Kate and Mike sat on the couch and started making out. Meaghan and I sat on the love seat facing the couch. Mike wasted no time in unbuttoning Kate's blouse with one hand and putting the other up her skirt.
Meaghan and I were moving much more slowly. By the time the Brothers Gibb got to "
Lemons Never Forget,"
we were Frenching and I had my hand under her sweater unhooking her bra. Mike and Kate had gotten horizontal. Mike had Kate's cardigan off, blouse open, bra raised, panties off, mini skirt up around her waist, his pants off and his Canadian cock moving in on her "poutine."
"Jacques, let's go up to my bedroom and give Kate and Mike some privacy." Meaghan whispered as I completed the one handed bra unhooking, at which, with practice, I was getting more adept.
It appeared that Mike and Kate were oblivious to our presence or departure. By this time Mike was into some pretty heavy humping and Kate seemed be to blithely enjoying the motion. We silently walked past them and ascended the stairs.
Meaghan's room was at the top of the stairs to the left. Her room was neat and girlishly frilly. She had stuffed animals and a poster of the 1968 Canadian Figure Skating Championships, in Vancouver. The room had a double, four poster bed with a lace bed cover, dresser and a dressing table with chair.
