My girlfriend Jennifer has been telling me about this wonderful bus trip she had down to Prince Edward County. They had been to see the Sandbanks Provincial Park, gone shopping in a veritable village of boutiques, eaten at the Hidden Bistro just outside if Picton, and went to see a play in Bellville before returning home.
I'd been after my husband Dennis to go on an outing like this for a long time, but he just couldn't get his head around a bus trip. He said he'd rather drive down one day, spend a relaxing afternoon just recharging his batteries, overnight at a B&B, and then spend a day shopping and touring before heading home to London.
I knew Dennis would procrastinate the summer away if I didn't take things into my own hands, so I logged onto the Internet, and set out to find the perfect little B&B somewhere near Picton. In short order I had several to chose from, and started making calls. At first I was disappointed as all seemed to be booked up for the weekend I had in mind. I called the last one on my list, last because the website was very plain with no pictures or anything. It was the Bayliner B&B on Big Island.
I called and the proprietor, an older gentleman named Bill answered. I enquired about our proposed dates, and after a moment of his tapping the keys on his PC; he let me know that indeed he could accommodate us.
Not wanting to buy a "pig in a poke" as they say, I enquired about his B&B. He told me that he was just opening his business for something to do, since he was recently retired, and his wife had passed away. The B&B was a converted cottage, with access to the Bay of Quinte for boating, with a pool, and air conditioning if the weather got too hot which was not often. He admitted that the furnishings were mostly cottage "hand me downs" but he planed to upgrade once his business got off the ground.
Bill also told me about our room. He said it was fairly Spartan, with just two single beds pushed together to form one large one, but it had a private bathroom and shower, and a separate entrance from the pool area. I was not thrilled with the idea of single beds, but beggars can't be choosers as they say. At least it would be civilized, more like staying in a small resort than a private home.
So on the appointed day we left London about mid-morning, planning to arrive at the Bayliner by about 2:00 PM after eating lunch on the road. Bill told us that if traffic was good, he could make it from the 400 / 401 interchange to the B&B in under 2 ½ hours. The directions he e-mailed us were good enough, but once we got onto some of those back roads in the County, we were sure that we had been the butt of some elaborate hoax designed to make tourists disappear into a miniature Bermuda Triangle. Perhaps this was a hillbilly way of attracting food. Nonetheless, after a time we arrived at the Bayliner, which was nestled amongst a small community of cottages.
An older man who was mowing the lawns on a small riding tractor pulled up and introduced himself as the proprietor, Bill. He appeared to be about 5' 10", and about 180 lb. Not fat, but tanned, and muscular, like a football linebacker. He was a bit thicker through the middle as older men sometimes get, a slight spare tire (or love handles if you will). His eyes were a piercing dark blue, and he had a full beard and head of hair, graying at the temples.
Bill showed us to our rooms, helping us with our bags, and then showed us around, inviting us to make ourselves at home. The cottage was not large, but had a spacious feel. Bill called it a dollhouse, big in miniature. He then excused himself, saying that he had to finish up some chores, and then planned to have a shower and "take some sun" by the pool.
Dennis and I are into the swinging scene back at home, and have a very secure but open relationship. I was finding myself rather turned by our encounter with Bill. I'm not sure if it was the tan, or the eyes, or the scent of sweat from his toils, but I was definitely on high alert. Not wanting to miss the mood, I quickly drug Dennis into our room and attacked him. Shortly I had Dennis lying on his back across the two beds as I rode him like a jockey fighting for the lead in the mad race for our mutual finish. In short order we were both drained, and I collapsed into Dennis' arms (but imagining they were Bill's).
After I time we cleaned ourselves up with a quick shower, got into our bathing suits, and headed out to the pool. Not long after Bill came out, said he would join us shortly, and headed into an outdoor change room and shower. I could hear the sound of water, and imagined his tanned body covered in soap, the lather being swept away by the shower's spray. In my minds eye I could see myself giving him a helping hand, his eyes closed and back arched as I squeezed and rubbed his manhood. I was sure going to drive myself crazy if I didn't rid myself of these nasty thoughts.
The shower stopped, and Bill came out wearing just a bathing suit. He said, "I'm going to make some drinks, everybody in for Strawberry Banana Daiquiris?" "Sounds great," I said. Bill then observed, "Better get some sunscreen on, or you're going to fry, I have some in the sun room if you need it."
I looked at Dennis, and told him, "I hope you don't mind, but I've just got to try and seduce this guy, I find him incredibly hot". Dennis smiled and said, "You and what bottle of Viagra? I don't know what you see in the old fart, but fill your boots if you must hon."
