The phone rang about four. I picked it up, and immediately recognized Tricia's voice. "Uh, hi Brad?"
I answered "Hi Tricia."
She asked "Is my Mom there? I mean, I can't find her anywhere." I raised my eyebrow in question to Janet and she held out her hand for the phone.
As Janet started talking, I staggered in to take a leak. I was happily wasted, probably fucked out, though I had thought that about an hour ago, and Janet had revealed a blow job technique so amazing I asked her again to marry me. It was either the third or fourth time I had proposed. She hadn't answered me until half an hour later, in the shower, whispering in my ear as our slippery bodies rubbed together. "Brad, if you keep doing that, asking me, pretty soon I'll start thinking you mean it." For reasons which escape me, she cried for about five minutes when I said I hoped so, because I did.
When I got back into bed, she had a frown as she answered her daughter. "No, we can't change the tickets, dear. For one thing, there's a penalty, for another, the flights are all booked." There was a pause, then she said "I don't know where he is, Patricia. He was at that girl's, you know, yes, Carol's, but he said he was leaving. We can't go calling all over San Diego, dear. Did you look at the rates in that card beside the bed? It's five bucks for two minutes." Another pause. "Dear, Brad's an adult. You can't expect him..."
Janet was staring at me, as she listened for a good five minutes. All I could hear was that faint chatter, as her expression became severe. Then there was a period of silence. Then, Janet said "All right dear, he and I will discuss it." She handed me the phone, waited until I hung it up, then muttered "Shit." She looked up at me, then sighed, and said, with a pissed off expression, "She wants you to take her cherry. To fuck her."
What's the word? Speechless? Sure, but that's nowhere near close enough. Rocketed to the next galaxy over? Well, closer. Maybe caught in the middle of a supernova? Yeah, that's kind of the feeling. Dimly, sort of far away, I heard the woman with whom I had fallen in love during a day of the greatest, most overwhelming sex of this millenium, try to explain her daughter. "The idea is, you're just a vacation distraction to me, but she's head over heels in love with you. Even if she never sees you again, she wants you to be the one. She says it's my responsibility as a mother. Fucking hormones."
Well, I can't remember everything that was said, or how we ended up with the plan. There were two calls to Tricia, at least a gallon of tears, and a giggling session during which the absurdity of the whole thing just made us crazy. We finally had dinner in her room, with Tricia, in our bathing suits, after I had to beg the front desk to get my room made up. I could tell the guy was not buying my need to be out of the sun all day, working, but he finally dispatched a maid. Tricia was happy as a clam, flirting with me, that teenage delight with getting her own way filling her with pride.
She took off her bikini after the guy brought the meal, and paraded around in front of me. When Janet yelled at her, she answered that I had seen her nude the night before, and was going to fuck her tomorrow night. Janet and I sort of glowered, and weren't much fun for Tricia. She dressed and went out to the disco at nine.
We ended up walking down the beach, yawning almost constantly, talking it over. "Well, at least I'll be there, Brad. Don't worry about how I'll feel, okay? If we have what we think we have, it can survive this. It isn't your damn fault. Jesus." She was a lot more confident than I was. We slept in my room, spooned together, and I had a funny dream about being a bird, diving for water, and hitting a rock. I woke up with cold sweats.
It didn't seem as bad in the morning. I ate Janet out for a good ten minutes of her rocking, throbbing climaxes. Then she straddled me, and we had an absolutely incredible cum together. We kissed and cooed in the shower, grab-assing gayly, and I was getting hard when we toweled each other off. When I started for her, she chuckled and whispered "Save something for my daughter, darling. Not too much, though."
Tricia pounded on the door just then. We took our time answering, and when I finally opened for her, she hugged me, then whispered over her shoulder "Don't tire him out, Mom. I mean, geez, it's my first time. I want him fresh." The whole thing was so strange it seemed unreal, and we all went down to breakfast, Janet and I eating ravenously, while Tricia munched on some toast, babbling away about a kid she'd met at the night club. As we walked down toward the beach, Janet and I looked at each other, and started laughing uncontrollably.
