Wednesday was an exasperating day for both Marla Harris and her adolescent lover, Buddy Wilson. They were frustrated because there was no chance for them to get together. It didn't matter to either of the lovers that on Thursday they'd be going away to spend a long weekend together, they both knew they didn't have that much time before Buddy left for college and their affair would have to come to an end.
Buddy, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be able to see his adult lover until she picked him up Thursday morning, decided to do some shopping and finish with plans he had for making their weekend extra-special. He knew Saturday was Marla's birthday and was determined to make the day extra special. In fact, he'd come up with a pretty exciting - to him at least - idea of how to make the day special.
Marla's husband was acting more like a jerk than usual, a fact that didn't make the day any easier for her. "How come you can't wait until Friday to go to the beach house?" Tom Harris whined Wednesday evening while they were having dinner. "Jesus, you could at least wait until I leave on my trip and not leave me here alone."
"Have you ever once minded leaving me here alone?" Marla thought bitterly, but she held her tongue. "There are things that need to get done before it's too late in the season," she snapped in reply. "And since you don't seem to have the time to do any of them, I have to. Buddy's willing to help me, and he's leaving for college soon. This is the only time I have."
"Yeah, sure," her husband complained.
The fact that he didn't seem to remember that Saturday was her birthday - and also didn't seem to care that he'd be away then - wasn't lost on Marla.
While Marla was dealing with her boorish husband, Buddy was packing his things, barely able to contain his excitement about spending three days and four nights alone with the woman of his dreams. He couldn't stop thinking about how neat it was going to be to not have to worry about anyone walking in on them, or to not have to worry about running into anybody they knew.
"My goodness, you certainly are excited about going to the shore with Marla, aren't you?" Buddy's mother commented as he walked through the kitchen in the process of getting things together for the trip.
"Ah...um...yeah," Buddy replied cautiously.
His mother chuckled. "You're hoping there will be tons of attractive girls at the shore this time of year, aren't you?" his mother continued.
"Yeah," Buddy replied. "Who cares about girls in bikinis?" he thought. "There's only one attractive woman I'm interested in." "I have to run down to the mall," he told his mother.
Marla was packing, too, and was just as excited about their long weekend at the beach as her young lover. She kept a lot of clothes at the beach house, so she didn't need to take much, but she did wanted to take some things Buddy would like. "For when I'm wearing something," she thought, giggling. She hoped she wouldn't be wearing clothing a lot of the time she was at the beach house.
After finishing their preparations for their trip Marla and Buddy both went to bed early. Not surprisingly, both of them had problems falling asleep. They were both aroused by thoughts of what would happen when they got to the beach, but both resisted the impulse to relieve their sexual tension.
Marla woke up just after 6:30 the next morning. That was unusual; she seldom was out of bed much before 9. She slipped out of the king-sized bed she and her husband still shared. Since she'd begun her affair with Buddy, she found the fact that the bed was big enough to allow her to stay well away from her husband a benefit she'd never considered before.
Her husband, Tom, felt the bed move as she slipped out of it. "Jesus Christ, Marla, what the hell are you getting up so early for?" he grumbled.
"I want to get on the road early," Marla snapped in reply. She went into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Then she turned on the shower. While the water got warm, she slipped off her flannel nightgown, then she got in the shower. The warm water felt incredible. She was already partially turned on from anticipating her trip with Buddy, and the hot spray pelting her body added to the feelings of arousal already smoldering inside her. When she soaped up a washcloth and began washing herself, passion continued to flare in her. Washing her vagina felt so good it almost caused her to come, but she fought the impulse. She wanted Buddy to be the source of any orgasms she enjoyed today.
She was almost finished in the shower when she heard her husband banging on the bathroom door. "How come you have the goddamn door locked?" he complained. "I gotta pee, for Christ's sake."
"Use the guest bathroom," Marla yelled back.
"Jesus H. Christ!" Tom complained. She heard him stomp off down the hall.
Marla decided she'd never, ever, share a bathroom - or anything else intimate - with her husband again. "You know," she thought as she began drying herself off, "I think it's about time I have my own bedroom." Moving into the spare bedroom would be her first priority once she got back from the beach.
Buddy was awake at daylight, too. He was already packed, but he checked everything again, more from needing to do something than out of fear he'd forgotten anything. He tried playing some games on his computer, but found the games boring. He tried watching TV, too, but found that nearly as boring as the computer games had been. Time seemed to be dragging. Marla told him she'd pick him up at 8, but his clock said it was only 6:30 and the clock seemed to be running very slowly today. He finally slipped on a bathrobe, went to the bathroom, and took a long shower. While in the shower his thoughts turned to his beautiful, older, blonde lover and those thoughts, of course, had a very visible effect. He was tempted to masturbate, but fought off the urge. He was out of the shower, had dried off, and was just finishing shaving when his mother knocked on the door. "Buddy, hurry up, I need to get in there," she called. "I have a hairdresser's appointment at quarter after eight."
The young man hurriedly finished what he was doing, left the bathroom to his mother, and went back to his bedroom. He put on a dark blue T-shirt that had a white reflective "EMT" logo on it and pair of jeans. Dressed, he picked up the duffel bag he'd packed his things in, and an orange toolbox, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. He was more nervous than he could ever remember being. His chest felt tight and he could almost feel his heart pounding. He debated whether he wanted to eat, decided not to, but did pour himself a glass of orange juice. He'd just finished drinking his juice when his mother walked into the kitchen.
"I'm off to the hairdresser's," she told him. "Your father's already gone. He had to be in early this morning."
"OK," Buddy said.
"Be sure you help Marla when you're at the beach," his mother said. "She isn't taking you over there for a vacation, or to chase girls in bikinis you know."
"I know, Mom," the teenager replied.
"She's given you a lot of work this summer," his mother continued as she got some orange juice out of the refrigerator and poured herself a glass. "Look how much money you have in your savings for college now."
"I know, Mom," Buddy repeated.
After she drank her juice, she walked over and gave her son a hug and a kiss. "Have fun," she told him. "...and behave."
"I will, Mom," Buddy said. "See you on Sunday."
"Gotta go," his mother said, "I'm running late already."
At almost exactly the same time Buddy was getting dressed, Marla was trying to decide what she would wear for the trip. After donning a white silky bra and equally silky white panties, she picked a satiny pale blue pullover blouse that had a draped boat neck and long sleeves that were slit almost from her shoulders to her wrists. She'd bought the blouse to entice her husband and learned, after wearing it a few times, that he didn't notice what she was wearing most of the time. She also put on a denim skirt that buttoned up the front. She didn't put on any pantyhose or stockings. For footwear she wore a pair of clogs.
Her husband had gotten up and was in the shower, so she made the bed and checked the bags she'd packed again. Once she was finished with those chores, she checked the clock and saw that it was only a few minutes before eight. With her heart pounding and her chest tight, she picked slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder, picked up her bags, and started down the hallway. She could hear the shower running in the bathroom so she stopped and stuck her head inside. "I'm leaving," she called.
"How come you have to go so goddamn early?" her husband called in reply.
"Because there's a lot I want to get done," she yelled back.
"Yeah, OK," her husband snorted. "See you when I get home, then."
Marla continued down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out into the garage. She put her bags in the back of her SUV, climbed inside, pressed the button on the garage door opener, put the key in the ignition, started the vehicle's engine, and backed out of the garage. Down the driveway she went, across the street, and up the driveway at the Wilson home. Just as she braked to a stop, Buddy's mother came out of the house. She waved and smiled. "Hi, Marla," she called as she walked to her car.
Marla waved in response. "Hi," she called back. She realized she was suddenly feeling a bit guilty.
After Buddy's mother drove off, Marla got out of her SUV and walked up to the back door of the house. Before she could knock, a smiling Buddy opened the door. Her heart, already pounding, began to pound even harder. "Are...are you ready to...to go?" she asked.
"Ah...yeah...I...um...I sure am," Buddy replied. His eyes wandered over her. "You look great," he added.
"Thank you, Buddy," Marla said. She could feel her face getting warm. "I don't believe I'm blushing like a schoolgirl getting a compliment," she thought. It felt wonderful to have someone appreciate how she looked.
"Ah...you want some orange juice or something before we go?" Buddy asked.
"Ah...I...I'm not really hungry," Marla said. That was true. She was so wound up she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep anything she ate down.
"OK," Buddy said. "I'll go in and get my stuff." He turned and walked back into the house.
Marla, thinking he might have some bags he'd need help with, followed him into the house. When she got in the kitchen she realized he only had a duffel bag and some kind of orange toolbox.
Buddy bent down to pick up his things but stopped. It had just hit him that he and Marla were alone in the house. He straightened up, walked past his puzzled-looking lover, closed the kitchen door, and locked it.
"Buddy, what are you doing?" Marla asked. She wanted was to get going so their time at the beach could start. She desperately needed to make love with the young man.
Buddy walked back toward her, grinning. "Mom's gone to the hairdresser, Dad went to work early this morning," he said. "You know what that means?"
Marla couldn't figure out what he was up to.
