"No mom! Stay away from me!" Cherie shrieked as her mom Leslie tried to talk to her.
"Maybe you should give her some time," Cherie's husband said as they sat in the chairs.
Leslie had tried apologizing to her daughter, but Cherie took things to the extreme as usual.
It could have happened to anyone. We were going through airport security when a buzzing sound came from Leslie's carry-on, there was a mortal shock as Leslie tried to quiet it, but the security personnel took the suitcase from her.
Some people laughed others shook their heads when they found that the culprit was a huge brown dildo. The security personnel said it happens all the time when people forget to take the batteries out, and the bag moves around. They took the batteries out and handed the suitcase back to Leslie.
Of course, Cherie through one of her fits and now didn't want to talk to anyone but Hank.
Hank was a weird name for a half-Hispanic, half-white man, but that's what his parents went with, so that was his name. He was a co-worker of mine and a good friend.
His wife, though, was a complete drama queen. She blew everything out of proportion, and I mean everything.
We went to the beach once, and a dog ran across the beach, and some sand got on her from the dog running. It was a total nightmare. She claimed she had been attacked and the dog should be put down.
It was sand!
I don't know Hank puts up with her daily. I could only take Cherie in small doses; even then, she was too much.
"Sorry about that," Leslie smiled as we sat down, awaiting our plane to Jamaica.
"Like they said it happens," I shrugged.
"Hank is lucky to have a friend like you around," Leslie smiled.
Leslie was nothing like Cherie, I only met Leslie yesterday, and I could already tell she was the mellow type. She cooked dinner for us, which was terrific. Cherie could burn water if you let her.
Hank cooked, cleaned, and did everything else around the house. Cherie was only good for complaining and posting pictures of herself on social media.
The first time I met Cherie, I knew she would be a total bitch. She kept calling me Hank's friend, even though Hank kept telling her my name was Ian.
She called me Hank's friend or the black guy hanging out with Hank. It took her three months to start calling me by name, and that was because someone else told her she was being a bitch.
I knew why she was doing it. One day, I joked that she suffered from a rare disease called Noassatall, and everyone laughed.
In my defense, we played a drinking game, and I drank a lot.
Cherie didn't like it when Hank and his brother tattled on me and told her what the joke meant. She wasn't happy at all.
The truth hurts. Cherie had no ass. She had B-cup tits but was utterly flat in the back.
"She blows everything out of whack," I shook my head as I looked over at Cherie, still crying.
"Gets it from her father," Leslie nodded. "The man made a big deal out of everything."
I didn't know much about Cherie's family other than her parents divorced many years ago, and Cherie had become a real daddy's girl.
He was wealthy and gave her anything she wanted. She got a new BMW because the mileage on hers reached fifty thousand miles, and she said it was old.
"Her sister Sonya is nothing like her," Leslie said. "Neither is her older brother."
"Sonya, is that the dyke bitch?" I asked.
"Yup, that will be the one," Leslie smiled.
Cherie always went on and on about her younger sister, the lesbian. She kept saying how gross it was to be the sister of a lesbian, and she never wanted to go to her sister's house in case she caught something.
"So, how do you put up with it?" I asked as a few people shook their heads and walked away from Cherie.
She was still crying.
"What is she crying for now?" Tony asked as he joined us.
Tony was another member of our group. Which meant his sister Angela and her friend Cary were there also. The other two women went over to their friend. The rest of the group catered to Cherie's crying and antics, except for Tony, Michelle, and me. We hated it.
"You don't want to know," I said, shaking my head.
"One of my toys went off while going through security," Leslie shrugged.
I was surprised that she would come out and say it like that to a stranger that wasn't there.
"What? I am fifty-five, my give a damn is busted," Leslie shrugged.
Tony didn't know what to say as he stared at me.
The attendants told us the plane was boarding soon. I looked over at Cherie. She had finally stopped crying. The others gave us dirty looks, which I was used to as I wasn't any of their favorites.
"I better go over there," Tony shook his head.
It didn't take long for him to return with a question. Cherie didn't want to sit near her mom and wondered if I could switch.
I was happy to switch. I wouldn't have to sit near one of them.
We joked about many things along the way, and I heard stories about Cherie's young life. Leslie was great to talk to; she didn't hold anything back.
It was late at night when we finally arrived, and we all wanted to do nothing but lay down in our beds.
We all had paid our own way, and the rooms were nice and big. I lay out on my big bed and fell asleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We met downstairs for breakfast, and I saw Cherie still angry with Leslie. They were arguing in the corner of the extensive buffet room.
"Still?" I asked as I sat down.
Hank stared at me. "It was an embarrassing situation," he said to me.
"It was an accident," I shrugged. "Could have happened to anyone."
"Take the batteries out," Angela said.
"Or put it in the suitcase to be put on the plane, not your carry on!" Cary said.
"I thought it was funny," I shrugged.
"You would," Angela said.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"You never take anything seriously, people were staring at Cherie, how do you think she felt?" Cary asked.
"Not this again," I shook my head.
People and their feelings always made my stomach turn.
Leslie came back to the table, shaking her head.
"Fourteen," she whispered to me.
"What?" I asked.
"Fourteen times, that I apologized," Leslie said, shaking her head.
"I wouldn't have," I shook my head as Cherie was all smiles now that she had gotten her way.
The more I hung out with Cherie, the more I hated her, and I knew the feeling was mutual. I smiled as an idea popped into my head.
"No," Tony said as he looked over at me.
"What?" I asked innocently.
"No, whatever you are thinking, just no," Tony shook his head.
I knew he was saying that because he didn't want to incur his sister's wrath.
"I won't do anything," I smiled.
That was a lie, and he knew it.
It didn't take long for me to put my plan into action.
I sat at the pool with Leslie and waited for it to happen.
"Here it comes," I smiled.
"Phone call for Ms. Noassatall!" one of the pool guys said.
Immediately Hank gave me a look. He got it right away. Then Tony shook his head.
"Ms. Noassatall?" the guy said repeatedly.
It finally dawned on Cherie, who got out of the pool and shot off like a rocket.
"You're so mean," Leslie laughed.
"Now both of us are in the doghouse," I smiled as we bumped glasses.
At lunch, Cherie was nowhere to be found. Hank came down and shot me a look that could kill. I shrugged back at him.
Not my fault his wife was a bitch.
"That was uncalled for," Hank said.
"No one knew it was her," I shook my head. "If she stayed in the pool and acted normally, they would have gone back and said no one is here by that name, she was the one that got up and ran out."
"That is true," Tony nodded.
"We knew," Hank said.
Angela and Cary were giving me the silent treatment.
"I am going back out in the sun," Leslie said as she got up. "Are you coming?" she said as she looked at me.
"Right behind you," I smiled.
Leslie sauntered in front of me. "Well, do I have to go by that name also?" Leslie asked.
I stared at her ass as it swayed back and forth. "Definitely not," I smiled.
For being fifty-five, Leslie had a great body. She could easily pass for someone in their early forties.
Leslie reminded me of Chandler Bing's mom on the show friends. Except she had red hair instead of blonde and had a bigger rack.
Leslie dropped her shoal and uncovered the rest of her body as she dived into the pool.
'Much bigger,' I thought as I watched as she surfaced, and her boobs bounced and swayed as she got out of the pool.
I walked over to that side of the pool.
"Got your attention?" Leslie asked as I wrapped a towel around her.
"More than that," I smiled.
"Oh really?" Leslie smiled as she leaned in close to me.
The others came out to the pool, and we branched off.
I couldn't believe Cherie's mom was flirting with me. Even now, she was staring over at me.
I was getting hit on by a certified GILF.
"Think I am going to go up to my room," I said as I couldn't hide my hard-on anymore. I rushed out of the pool area and into the hotel lobby.
I made it into my room and went out to the patio. I looked down at the pool and couldn't see Leslie.
Then there was a knock on the door.
I went to the door, and Leslie rushed inside.
"So, this is where you ran off to," Leslie said as she smiled at me.
"It wasn't exactly running," I smiled back at her.
"Well, you couldn't run in your condition," Leslie said, pushing me against the wall. "What were you thinking about?"
I stared down at her as she slowly got down to her knees. "I was thinking that a woman like you was hitting on me," I said.
"No," Leslie said, shaking her head as she grabbed the bottom of my swim trunks. "The truth."
"I was thinking about a hot GILF like you, was hitting on me," I nodded.
"Much better," Leslie said as she slowly tugged on my trunks.
"What does GILF stand for?" Leslie smiled at me.
"Grandma I would love to fuck," I said.
"The first part suits me," Leslie nodded. "I am a grandma," she said as she tugged on it more.
Leslie nearly had my pants down.
"The second part," Leslie said. "That's up to you."
My dick throbbed hard as she stared up at me.
