Family Ties

Chapter 11

I woke up with my own little space heater next to me. Christy was lying on her side, facing me, with her legs drawn up along my hip. I rolled toward her and simply studied her face. She must have felt the movement, because she stirred and scrunched up her nose. I watched her for several minutes as she woke up slowly, and for the umpteenth time wished I had her talent for drawing people.

She opened her eyes and smiled.

“Good morning, Sunshine. Did you sleep okay?” I asked.

“Mmm, wonderful.”

“Me too. Much better than the last time we slept together.”

“Oh my gosh, don’t remind me.”

“And a lot better than the first.”

“The first?”

“Halloween.”

“Oh, right. I won’t feel guilty this time, I swear.” She yawned and stretched with a little squeak. “If I’m going to you-know-where, I might as well enjoy it.”

“That’s the spirit! And I’m here to help…”

She gave me a confused look that turned to halfhearted protests as I rolled her onto her back. I pushed the covers down, and her cries turned to sighs when I kissed her stomach and then moved lower. She spread her legs at my touch, and I settled between them.

I took my time and enjoyed myself, and her soft moans told me all I needed to know about how she was enjoying it. Finally I felt her tense up,

and she clutched the sheets as the orgasm reached its peak. Afterward I let her relax while I caressed her thighs. Then I kissed my way up her body and held myself above her. She gazed up at me calmly.

“You like?” I said.

She nodded and raised her lips for a kiss, although she squeaked and cut it short when she felt my hard-on nudge her pussy.

I arched a questioning eyebrow, but she shook her head immediately.

“We can’t,” she said. “We’re not— I mean— We haven’t—”

I kissed her again and shifted my hips. My erection slid through her soft pubic hair and rested on her stomach instead.

“Oh my gosh,” she said in relief. “For a second, I thought you were going to do it anyway.”

“No, not till you’re ready.”

She relaxed with a deep breath.

“However…” I glanced between our bodies and moved my hips to remind her that I was still very hard.

She took the hint and immediately reached between us. Her strong hands found my erection and began stroking. I gazed into her eyes until I couldn’t stand it anymore and had to close them as a wave of pleasure assaulted my senses. I gasped aloud when she added a little twist to the end of each stroke.

I didn’t last long after that, and she cried out in amused triumph when the first hot spurt splattered her stomach. She kept milking me until the spurts turned to gushes and then trickled to a stop. She gazed directly into my eyes.

Then she raised her hand and licked semen from her wrist and palm.

I pushed myself upright and sat on my heels. Christy looked down her body. Her legs were spread as if we’d just had sex, and she was covered from bush to breasts with pearly droplets and little trails of come. A small lake had formed in her navel. She swirled a finger through it and then touched it to her tongue. She knew I was watching, so she made a show of licking her finger clean.

“So you like the taste?”

“Mmm, semen.” She closed her eyes and smiled beatifically. “I really love how it feels in my mouth, all creamy and smooth.”

“Well then,” I chuckled, “we’re gonna get along just fine.”

“Oh? There was a chance we wouldn’t?”

“For a while there I wondered…”

“Me too. But that’s behind us now.” She collected another couple of

drops and sucked her finger. Then she gave me an innocent-seductive look, hinting for all she was worth.

I felt my resolve crumbling, and the little head made a convincing argument that she was asking me, just not with words. The big head wanted her to be a bit more proactive.

How much more proactive could she be? the little head demanded. She’s practically begging you to stick me in her mouth.

“Practically” is the key word, I told him. Not “actually.” There’s a difference.

Semantics, he said.

Where’d you learn a word like that?

Duh! I’m you, dumbass. Now stick me in her mouth!

Christy burst out laughing.

“What?” I said, a little defensively.

“You were talking to him, weren’t you?” She laughed again. “You get this look on your face. I can almost tell when it’s you and when it’s him.”

I grimaced.

“You’re so cute when you’re caught,” she said. “What was he saying?”

“I can’t tell you,” I grumped. “It’s private.”

“Should I ask him instead?”

“He won’t tell you either.”

“I bet he will if I ask nicely. I can be very persuasive.”

I shook my head faux-stubbornly, which made her laugh again.

“You’re so strange sometimes,” she said affectionately. “I like it, but you’re just… different. I’ve never met anyone who has conversations with his own penis.”

“He needs supervision. He gets into trouble otherwise.”

“I dunno,” she mused, “I kinda like him.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Why? Will it go to his, ahem, head?” Her eyes flashed as her hands gripped my still-hard cock. She acted surprised. “Oh my gosh! It did go to his head.” She began stroking. “Will he shoot again?”

“If you keep doing that.”

“Oh, goody!”

“What’s gotten into you?” I asked. “Not that I’m complaining, but you’re a real sex kitten this morning.”

“Well, let’s see… First, I had a wonderful time with my boyfriend last

night. Second, I woke up this morning to a repeat performance. And third, I’m hoping for an encore.”

“And I thought I’d have to talk you into it,” I said with a laugh.

She grinned and shook her head.

Part of me felt like I’d flipped some switch and turned on the naughty Christy, but another part thought she might have been there all along. What had Wren said? That Christy only wanted to think she was a good girl?

“Beside,” she added, almost as if she’d read my mind, “I have to convince you I’m not such a goody-goody.”

“So Wren was right? About you?”

“That depends,” she said slyly. She did the twist thing as her hand slid over the head of my cock. “What did she say?”

“That you’re a total nympho in bed.”

“I still don’t like that word, but…”

“Maybe it fits?”

“Maybe,” she allowed. “But I like sex kitten better.”

“Fine by me. Sex kitten it is.”

“Do you always talk this much during… you know?”

“Yeah, I do.” I laughed and almost made the mistake of telling her how much it bugged Wren. I asked instead, “Does it bother you?”

“Not really. I don’t have to wonder what you’re thinking.”

“Better that way. Fewer misunderstandings.”

“Exactly.”

“So, Miss Sex Kitten… what’re your plans here?” The little head started cheering for her to suck me off. “I mean, where would you like load number two?”

“Where do you want it?”

“Uh-uh. I asked you first.”

“You know where.”

“In your mouth?”

“Yes, please.”

She’d done it again—conned me into making the decision—and I wanted to howl in frustration. She’d have said yes if I’d said I wanted to come on her shoes!

Hey! the little head snapped. Can you rant on your own time?

I blinked in surprise.

I’m a little preoccupied here. Maybe you didn’t notice, but she wants me

to come in her mouth. Duh! Hello?

“What did he say?” Christy asked with a grin.

“Really? Am I that transparent?”

“Sometimes. It’s cute, though. So, what did he say?”

“That I should relax and enjoy myself.”

“I’m really starting to like him.”

“Of course. You would. He wants the same thing you do.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Just…” I shrugged. The time wasn’t right for a long discussion about who was seducing whom.

“You’re so… thoughtful… sometimes.” She looked between us at where her hands gripped my hard-on. “At the weirdest times, too. Wren’s right, you’re a philosopher.”

I shrugged. What else could I do?

“We really are yin and yang,” she said, “aren’t we?”

“I guess so. Remind me which one you are.”

“Yang, the sunny side.”

“And I’m yin?”

“Mmm hmm. The cloudy side. But not in a bad way. Just… more complicated. More interesting, I think.”

“So…,” I said before the conversation could turn philosophical for real.

She was still jerking me off, and I didn’t want her to stop. “Would you like me to shoot my yin in your yang?”

She grinned. “I’d love it.”

I climbed up and straddled her chest. My cock came to rest between her breasts, which had flattened from their slight weight but were still firm little mounds. Her brown nipples were puckered and very hard. She smiled up at me and returned her hands to my shaft.

She started stroking with the twist, and jolts of pleasure shot through me.

Her eyes shone with enjoyment, and part of me hoped she’d spontaneously decide to suck me off. The rest of me knew she wouldn’t—she still wasn’t ready to make that decision on her own. And I wasn’t going to make it for her. I could be stubborn like that. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy myself.

“I’m close,” I said after a few minutes.

She raised her head from the pillow and obligingly opened wide. I had to remind myself not to slide my dick into her mouth.

She flinched in surprise when the first spurt missed her mouth completely and hit her cheek instead. She immediately corrected her aim so the rest of the spurts coated her lips and tongue. She swallowed once and then focused on squeezing the final drops from my shaft.

I sat back and breathed hard through my nose. She cleaned her cheek and wiped her chin and lips. She licked her fingers and then felt for any she’d missed. Her face glistened when she finished and smiled up at me.

“I like this liquid diet.”

I laughed and swung my leg over her. I lay beside her and gazed into her calm blue eyes.

“But now I’m kinda hungry for real.”

“Yeah,” I said, “that’s the problem with a liquid diet… it doesn’t fill you up.”

“Maybe I just need more liquid.”

“Maybe,” I laughed. “But you’ll have to give me twenty minutes or so. In the meantime, sounds like you’re ready for breakfast.”

“Mmm. And I have a really selfish request,” she said. “Would you mind bringing breakfast here? I don’t know if I’m ready to… you know.”

“Baby steps. No problem.”

“Thank you!” she said with genuine relief.

“You want the usual?”

“You know me so well.”

“I do.”

“Not yet,” she teased. “You have to wait for the priest.”

I rolled my eyes and then kissed her before I leapt to my feet. I didn’t bother with clothes or even a jacket. I simply thrust my feet into my flip-flops and headed out the door.

I regretted it almost immediately. The morning was cold and clear, and my breath fogged in the December air. I rushed across the road and almost dived into the clubhouse. It was slightly warmer in there, but not enough to make me dawdle.

Mom was in the kitchen area. She was wearing a man’s shirt, a faded pair of Gators sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and slip-on clogs. She looked up when she saw me, and her eyes widened.

“What’re you doing? Where are your clothes?”

“Nudist camp,” I reminded her.

“Winter,” she countered.

I ignored her and gestured at her shirt. “Dad made it safe?”

“Mmm hmm. A little after midnight. We came back right after Doug and the girls.”

I nodded and found two bowls, which I filled with cereal and milk. I wondered how to get everything up to the room, so I rummaged under the counter and found a plastic restaurant tray with “S&W Cafeteria” in faded Art Deco letters. Mom was frying eggs for breakfast sandwiches.

“Is that all you’re having?” she asked as I added two apples.

“I might add some peanut butter if we have any,” I said, “but yeah.”

She rolled her eyes and cracked another egg into the little electric skillet she was using instead of the stove. “Doesn’t this girlfriend of yours feed you?”

“Not really,” I laughed. “I feed her more than she feeds me. But don’t worry, Wren takes good care of all of us.”

“I like her. Susan does too.”

“That makes three of us. Although… Christy does too. They’re sort of like you and Susan.”

“So Christy’s bisexual?” Mom said.

“What can I say?” I flashed her a grin. “I wanted a girl like dear ol’

Mom.”

She brandished her spatula. “Call me old again and I’ll swat you.”

“Perish the thought.”

“Toast some bread for your sandwich,” she said dryly. “Ham and cheese are in the fridge. Does Christy want one?”

“No. Thanks, though.” I cored and sliced the apples while she finished the eggs. She assembled a sandwich and set the plate on my tray. I gave her a peck on the cheek and then headed back to the room.

Christy was wearing my shirt and sitting demurely with her legs folded under her on the bed. I sat down cross-legged and set the tray between us. We ate in companionable silence, although I caught her several times as she stole a glance at my dick, which twitched every time she did.

“Well,” I said, “you definitely like me being a nudist.”

Her eyes flashed with a smile.

“But do you still like it?”

“I like it with you. I don’t know if I’m ready for anyone else to see me, though.”

“You might have to get used to it pretty quick. We need to shower,

and…”

“I’d forgotten about that. Do you think we can sneak over? Are your parents and Erin awake yet?”

“Mom made me the egg sandwich.”

“Uh-oh.”

“And we need to leave for the funeral by nine fifteen. So…”

“Everyone will be getting ready at the same time.”

“More or less,” I said. “Do you want to skip it?”

Her eyes widened in exasperation. “I can’t.”

“Why not? Well, your hair’s a bit of a mess, but you can fix that.”

“Paul, what have we been doing all morning?”

“Fooling around,” I said with a grin.

“Mmm hmm. And I’m…”

“Ah, right. Covered in semen. But whose fault is that?” I teased.

“Yours! You shot it all over me.”

“You were the one jerking me off.”

She smiled guiltily. “I was having fun. So sue me.”

“I’d rather use you instead.”

“Oh? And what would you use me for?”

“All sorts of naughty things.”

“That involve your penis, I’m sure.”

“Hey, I take care of Miss Kitty too.”

“Mmm, you do.”

“And I’ll take care of her again tonight, but for now…”

“We need to shower.”

I grinned.

“What?”

“I like hearing you say that.”

“What? ‘We need to shower’?”

I nodded. “It’s a couples thing.”

“Well… we are.”

“I know, but it’s also a thing we do nude.”

She rolled her eyes. “You and your body… always showing off.”

“I like looking at yours too. But I work hard to stay in shape, so I like to show off… especially for my girlfriend.”

It was her turn to grin. “I like hearing you say that.”

“What? ‘Especially for my girlfriend’?”

“All of it.” Her blue eyes sparkled and she leaned forward for a kiss.

I pushed the tray aside and pulled her in to my lap. She squeaked in surprise when I tugged her shirttail out of the way and cupped her bare ass.

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped when her pussy pressed against my pubic bone.

My resurgent hard-on nestled in the crack of her ass. I moved it aside and thrust a finger into her from behind.

“We can’t,” she pleaded. “We have to… unh!” She clung to my neck and began grinding her pussy against me as I fingered her.

“Are you going to come for me?” I whispered in her ear.

“Mmm.”

“You’re a little sex kitten, aren’t you?”

She whimpered and nodded.

“You like spreading your legs for me, don’t you?”

“Unh!”

“Say it.”

“I like— spreading— my legs.” She gasped and shuddered. She was close. Her pussy had begun to contract around my finger, and she ground against me even harder.

“Come for me,” I whispered again.

She buried her face in the hollow of my neck and muffled a cry. Her body stiffened and then went rigid. Heat and moisture flooded her pussy, and her muscles contracted around my finger. I wiggled it inside her and felt her shudder with pleasure. She clung to me as the waves crashed over her and then slowly receded.

“You’re so naughty,” she said weakly. “Making me say those things.”

“Why? They’re true.”

“They are not.”

“You like sex.” I kissed her hair and held her gently. “And you like spreading your legs.”

“But only for you.”

For now, I thought with a chuckle. Baby steps.

She relaxed in my arms as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Then she kissed my collarbone. She kept going and planted kisses up my neck until she reached my jaw. I offered my lips, and we made out for a couple of languorous minutes.

“You’re still so hard,” she said. “Do you want me to…?”

“To what?”

“To… you know.”

“No, what?”

“You know,” she said vaguely.

I suppressed a fit of pique and told myself I was expecting too much, too soon. She still wanted to think of herself as a “good girl.” And good girls don’t make the first move. I didn’t want her to sense my disappointment, so I made the decision for her.

I eased her to the bed, and her pussy slid along the entire length of my cock. She gasped in surprise when her exposed clit raked the head. It sprang up between us. Her eyes shone with anticipation at the sight of my hard-on pointing up at her.

I unbuttoned the shirt and slid it off her shoulders to reveal her tight little body. She watched me intently, so I let my eyes linger.

“I love how you make me feel,” she said. “The way you look at me… It’s like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“You are.”

She leaned into me for a kiss and felt for my erection at the same time.

She sighed when my lips touched hers and then again when my cock swelled at her touch. I pulled her toward me, and we made out as she stroked me.

Unfortunately, the responsible part of me couldn’t stop thinking about the time. We needed to pick up the pace, and she couldn’t make me come fast enough, so I decided to take over.

“You want me to come in your mouth?” I said.

“Yes, please.”

“Get on the floor, on your knees.”

Her eyes flashed and she scrambled off the bed. She knelt obediently and I stood over her. I wrapped my fingers around my cock and began stroking.

She caressed my thighs and simply watched for a moment, almost in a trance. She massaged my balls, but her eyes never left my cock. She looked as eager as I felt, although I sensed her disappointment too. She wanted to suck me off. She just didn’t want to admit it.

Not yet, I told myself. Give her time to adjust.

Easy for you to say, my penis groused. You’re not the one being strangled by Rosy.

Shut up and enjoy it, I told him. We don’t have all day.

“We don’t have all day,” he mocked in an annoyed tone.

I shook my head with a silent chuckle and wondered about my sanity.

Christy moistened her lips in anticipation, which put an end to my conversation with the little head.

“Get ready,” I said.

She rose on her knees and opened her mouth. I aimed my cock and groaned as the first spurt gushed onto her tongue. She sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes to savor it. When I finished shooting, she swallowed and then licked her lips. Without thinking, she kissed the tip of my cock.

“Oh my gosh,” she said to cover the slip, “that was a lot. Almost as much as before.”

I nodded down at her. “It’s what I do.”

“And that was the third time. Wow. That’s more—” She caught herself in time, but I grinned anyway.

She’d been about to admit that she had more experience than she’d let on.

She hadn’t learned her handjob technique overnight, and I was pretty sure her blowjob skills would be just as good. But she wanted me to think she’d only been with Simon. Maybe she’d only had sex with him, but she’d done a lot with someone else, probably a couple of someones. Still, she wanted to keep her secrets. I let her, but only for the time being.

“Yeah,” I said into the silence, “I shoot a lot. It’s a little less each time, but…”

“Still a lot,” she finished.

“Mmm hmm.” I looked at my watch.

“Do we need to go?”

“Yeah, sorry to rush. I’d rather be lazy in bed the rest of the morning, maybe go for another round or three—”

“Three? Are you serious?”

“Mmm hmm. As long as I have the right motivation.” I lifted her to her feet. “And you are definitely the right motivation, my little sex kitten.”

“Mmm. I like being your sex kitten.”

“Better than ‘nympho’?”

“Much better.”

“Well, you’re both, but I won’t call you that again. Still, we need to get a move on. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t think you were serious about more.”

I laughed and playfully swatted her behind. “I’m completely serious. But some other time. We really need to head down to the shower or we’re going

to be late.”

“Yes, sir.”

My parents had showered already and were at the sinks in the bathroom area.

Mom had her towel wrapped around her waist, but Dad’s was draped around his neck. Christy immediately shielded her eyes with her hand.

“Relax,” I told her quietly. “You don’t have to look, but don’t make a big deal about it either.”

“This is so weird,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

“You’ll get used to it.”

She lowered her hand and walked forward hesitantly, and I had to hide a grin as she looked at my parents through her lashes. She stiffened in surprise when my dad turned toward us. I’d seen him hundreds, maybe thousands of times over the years, but I looked at him from Christy’s perspective.

He was taller than me and had more hair on his chest. We shared the same general build, although he was less muscular, since he didn’t work out like I did. He was thicker through the middle than when we’d first started coming to camp, but still a good-looking guy. Most people noticed his dick first, since it was six inches long when it was soft. Christy didn’t gawk, per se, but I could almost feel the intensity of her gaze as she studied him.

My mom raised her arms to brush her hair back. Her breasts were full and round and soft, and the sight of them in the mirror drew my eyes immediately. Christy’s too, if I had to guess. They swung gently as Mom leaned forward for a closer look at her face in the mirror.

“Morning,” Dad said as we approached. He looked at his watch. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

“Something came up,” I deadpanned. “We had to take care of it.”

Christy reacted as if I’d goosed her.

“I’ll bet,” Dad chuckled. “Still, get a move on.”

“Roger that.”

He turned back to the mirror and used the ends of his towel to wipe his freshly shaved face.

“Ready to do this?” I asked Christy quietly.

She took a deep breath and nodded. She set her towel and toiletry bag on

an empty sink. She’d insisted on wearing my button-down, and her fingers fumbled with it.

“There’s a trick to a man’s shirt,” Mom said. She smiled reassuringly.

“You’ll learn.”

“I can do this,” Christy told herself, and she wasn’t talking about the buttons.

I watched her in the mirror and then saw the clubhouse door swing open behind us.

Erin blew in, and I immediately grew suspicious at her timing. Mom must have thought the same thing, because she glanced at Erin and then her watch.

“I know,” Erin said. “Sorry I’m late. I’ll get a move on.” She flung her things on the sink next to us and pulled off her T-shirt.

Christy watched out of the corner of her eye and seemed surprised by Erin’s complete lack of modesty, although it wasn’t really “modesty” at all.

Erin was simply unselfconscious and comfortable with her own body. Christy silently balked at the idea of joining her.

“You can do this,” I told her.

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she squared her shoulders and gazed at herself in the mirror. Then she took off the shirt and deliberately let it fall to the floor. My parents and Erin turned to look, but none of them stared. I could feel Christy’s tension and anxiety, but they slowly dissipated when no one made a big deal about her nudity.

“See?” I told her quietly. “I’m proud of you. You are fearless.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she whispered back.

My parents finished and said they were heading back to their room to get dressed.

“Don’t dawdle,” Mom told us.

Dad tapped his watch and glanced at me. “Wheels up in thirty minutes.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

They waved and left without a backward glance.

“You all wanna use the same shower?” Erin said to Christy and me.

“We’ll get more hot water that way. You remember how pathetic it is when several people shower at once.”

I started to mention that Susan had upgraded the system during the previous off-season. I’d seen the plans. The old residential electric water heaters were gone, replaced by a pair of commercial gas-fueled units that could supply more than enough hot water for three of us, even if we used a

shower each on full hot. I kept it to myself, though.

“Fine with me,” I said instead.

Christy nodded mutely but then thought of something. “Uh-oh.”

Erin and I looked at her.

“I didn’t bring shampoo or conditioner or anything,” she explained. “I thought we’d be staying in a motel. You know, like, a real one.”

“You really are the worst boyfriend in the world,” Erin said to me. To Christy, “That’s okay. You can use mine.” She turned on the water. “How hot do you like it?”

“Pretty hot,” Christy said with a guilty glance at me.

Erin saw, so I explained, “She usually showers in the bathroom on the second floor. She gets all the hot water, while I get nothing on the third floor.”

“Why don’t you just shower together?” Erin said. Then she took a good look at Christy and saw her pubic hair. “Ah, never mind. I get it.” To Christy she said, “You two haven’t been dating very long, have you?”

Christy shot me a confused look. “Not officially, no. Why?”

Erin turned to me. “You haven’t changed your preferences, have you?”

“No.”

“So,” she continued with a smirk, “when’re you going to tell her?”

“When I’m ready.”

“Tell me what?” Christy asked.

“Nothing.”

“Paul has a certain—”

“Erin,” I warned.

“— hairstyle he likes.”

“You want me to change my hair?” Christy said to me, more confused than ever.

“Not up there,” Erin said and pointed. “Down there.”

Christy’s eyes went wide. She looked at me and then back at Erin. She finally looked at me again. “Is she serious?”

“Yes.” I glared at Erin. “But we’ll talk about it later.” I forestalled Christy’s objection by pointing to my watch. “Later, I swear. Now c’mon.

We don’t have much time.”

She fell silent and nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Erin smirked at me again. Then she checked out Christy’s body while she wasn’t looking. Her eyebrows rose appreciatively.

I shot her another warning look.

What? her expression said. I’m just looking.

Christy was a lot more relaxed than I thought she’d be as we showered.

She and Erin chatted about hair care and then turned the conversation to razors as they shaved their legs. I simply enjoyed the view and kept my mouth shut, except when Erin teased me about shaving my pubes.

“I swear,” she said, “you’re more of a girl than I am.”

“Some of us aren’t naturally beautiful like you,” I said. Then I moved my penis to the side and concentrated on not cutting myself as I shaved the base.

“He has a thing about shaving,” Erin told Christy. “I think it’s a little weird, but it’s what he likes.”

“Why do you shave your legs, Erin?” I asked without looking up. “And your armpits? And your bikini line?”

“Because I’m a girl, dork. We’re supposed to shave there. Men are supposed to have hair there.”

“Men are supposed to have a penis and testicles,” I said as I concentrated on the underside. “That’s it. Everything else is just personal preference.” I finished and looked up to find Christy staring at me with wide eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked by the conversation or because I was shaving the base of my cock.

“What’s the matter?” Erin asked her with genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“I just…,” Christy stammered. “I mean, I never…”

“Give her a break, Erin,” I said. “She isn’t used to how nonchalant we are about our bodies and nudity. This is all new to her.”

“He only told me on Thursday,” Christy explained.

Erin’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? You didn’t know we were nudists?”

Christy shook her head.

“He only told you two days ago?”

She nodded.

Erin rounded on me and threw up her hands in disgust. “How could you not tell her something like that?”

“We’re taking things slow.”

“Slow? That’s glacial, you big dweeb.”

“It’s okay,” Christy said. “I still feel a little weird, but—”

“No wonder you were so nervous when we went to the bathroom last night,” Erin said to her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” She glared at me for

good measure, but I didn’t let it bother me.

“I’m fine,” Christy repeated. “I mean, I was on the swim team in high school. We saw each other all the time. Well, just the girls.”

“Still,” Erin said, “it isn’t the same.”

“Um… no.”

I coated my scrotum with shaving cream and ignored the girls as I pulled it tight and carefully shaved the stubble. I checked my work by feel and touched up a couple of spots.

Erin mocked, “All done, princess?”

“Lay off,” I told her brusquely. “I’m not less of a man because I care about how I look.”

“Yeah, but you look gay. Like those guys you see in those magazines.”

“Erin, they’re gay because they have sex with other men, not because they trim their pubes.”

Her jaw dropped.

“I’m straight because I have sex with women. My pubic hair has nothing to do with it. Heck, if it did, Susan and Leah would be completely asexual, and we both know they’re not.”

Christy turned rosy at the direction of the conversation, while Erin looked suitably abashed.

“Now,” I said to her, “exactly what magazines have you been looking at?”

She gulped.

“Right,” I said flatly. “We all have our little secrets.” I glanced at Christy.

“One of mine is that I trim my pubic hair. I’m sure you noticed.”

She nodded, eyes still wide.

“One of yours,” I said to Erin, “is your stash of gay porn.”

“I have no such thing!”

“Sure you don’t, Erin. But hey, I’m not judging you. You can look at whatever you like. Besides, some of those guys are hot.”

Her eyebrows flew up as fast as Christy’s.

“They’re not my type,” I said. “I’m strictly a ladies’ man, but I can still say they’re attractive. Just like you do with other women. You too, Christy.

Matter o’ fact, if I had a quarter for every time you checked each other out during the shower, I’d… well… I’d have about three bucks. But you know what I mean.”

They each started to deny it.

“Save it,” I said as I stepped under the shower and rinsed the last of the shaving cream. “I saw you both. It was really kinda cute, to be honest, how you did it while the other wasn’t looking. But don’t try to deny it.”

Christy looked chagrined, while Erin wanted to argue.

“Ready for me to turn off the water?” I asked them.

“Yes.” “Uh-huh.”

“Chill, Erin,” I told her. “You can’t win every argument.”

“Says you,” she muttered.

I just laughed and handed Christy her towel. Then I passed Erin hers and reached for my own. “Let’s get a move on,” I said. “You know how Dad gets if we’re late. And if it makes you feel any better, Erin, you’re totally right about me being the worst boyfriend in the world. I’d be in the doghouse now if it weren’t for you and Mom and Susan. So thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome,” she said ungraciously.

“I mean it.” I gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead. “You’re my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister.”

“You’re still my favorite.”

Christy grinned at me.

“Now, do you mind if I shave my face, or would it make me look gay?”

Erin rolled her eyes.

“I think it makes you look handsome,” Christy said. “Him too.”

It was my turn to look surprised.

Erin didn’t understand the reference. “He’s your boyfriend, I guess.”

“It’s very dashing,” Christy told her.

“Are we still talking about me here?” I joked. “Or Mr. Big?”

“Oh, please!” Erin said. “Seriously? Is that what you call it?”

“I call him that,” Christy said.

The penny finally dropped for Erin. “Hold on, who do you mean by

‘him’?”

“That depends,” Christy said with a goofy, endearing grin. “The smaller him is Mr. Big. The bigger him is Paul.”

“Ha! Okay. So you have a pet name for his dick.”

“What can I say? I really like it.”

“Now that we have that settled,” I said, “we really need to get moving.

We’re gonna be late.”

The girls each went to a sink and after a minute started chatting about

skin care.

I glanced over and realized that Christy hadn’t wrapped her towel around her body. It was draped over the corner of her sink, and she didn’t seem to care.

“Zip me up,” Christy said as she turned and swept her hair out of the way.

She looked even smaller than usual in the tight black dress, although the padded shoulders were part of the reason. She picked up her purse and once again searched for the mirror. (The room didn’t have one.)

“How do I look?” she said at last.

“Beautiful. As always.”

“No, for real. Not boyfriend ‘how do I look?’ What would your mother think? What would my mother think?”

I straightened an imaginary tilt in the shoulders of her dress. Then I tucked her hair behind her ear and ran the backs of my fingers along the line of her jaw. Her earrings were gold and onyx to match the dress, and her high heels and clutch purse complemented each other with small gold buckles.

“Beautiful,” I said again, and meant it.

She tucked the purse under her arm and reached up to adjust my tie. Then she smoothed my shirt over my chest. She even checked my waistline to make sure I didn’t have any wrinkles in my shirt.

“Just like my dad taught me,” I said with a smile. “Military-style.”

Her cheeks glowed with more than pleasure. “I used to help my mom when she checked my dad’s uniform for ceremonies and stuff.”

“So… am I properly squared away?”

She grinned and set her purse on the dresser. Then she lifted my suit coat off the hanger. I started to turn, but she moved behind me instead. She slid the sleeves onto my arms with practiced ease and then moved in front of me to smooth my lapels.

“Very handsome,” she said at last.

“You know I’m just going to take it off when we get in the car?” I said with a grin.

“Hush. You’ll spoil the moment.” She reached for her purse and looked around again. “Oh, darn it! I wish we had a mirror.”

“Relax,” I said softly. “We’ll have other times when we dress up for a formal occasion. I’ll make sure we’re in a room with a mirror.”

She reached for her compact. Then she looped her arm through mine, straightened her shoulders, and held the open compact at arm’s length. The mirror was ridiculously small for what she wanted, and I did my best not to chuckle.

“Ha ha, Mr. Spoilsport. Men look good in anything. Women have a lot more riding on our looks. And we have to make sure we match our date.”

“We’re both wearing black. How can we not match? Never mind. I know how many shades of black there are.” It sounded silly to say aloud, but it was true. (The difference wasn’t really color, but texture and how the material reflected light. Black suede absorbs more light than patent leather, so it looks darker. The same happens with dull cotton versus shiny satin. But I digress.)

“Exactly,” Christy said, as if she’d read my mind. “I’m glad I don’t have to explain.”

“Hey,” I said mildly, “clothes and fashion are almost as important to me as they are to you.”

“I know. You actually know how to dress.” She gazed at our reflection in the small mirror again. She was about to say something else when someone rapped on the door.

“Uh-oh,” I said. “We’re late.”

Christy snapped her compact shut and shoved it into her purse. I opened the door and grimaced at my father’s expression.

“Sorry,” I told him. “We should’ve gotten an earlier start.”

“Nonsense,” Christy said as she stepped in front of me. “It was my fault.

My hair took forever to dry.” It hadn’t and she knew it.

“No,” I countered, “it was my fault.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dad said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

We hustled to the car, where Dad climbed into the front passenger seat next to Mom. Susan smiled at us from the driver’s seat as Christy slid to the middle of the back seat next to Erin. I followed and folded my jacket neatly on my lap as I pulled the door closed.

“Hit it,” I said.

The car’s tires actually kicked up sand when Susan did just that.

“By the way, Dad,” I said over the seat once we crested the ridge, “this is my girlfriend, Christy. Christy, this is my dad, David. I don’t think I introduced you earlier.”

“You didn’t,” Mom said.

Erin leaned forward and mouthed, Worst boyfriend ever.

Christy actually cut her off with a gesture. She wasn’t rude about it, but Erin got the message.

“Nice to meet you, Christy,” my dad said over the seat. “Sorry to rush you this morning, but…”

“It’s all right.”

“My fault,” I repeated.

“Nice to meet you too, David. My dad says he thinks he knows you. I’m supposed to ask you a bunch of questions about Vietnam. What squadron, what ship, what year? That sort of thing.”

“We don’t talk about Vietnam,” my mom said.

Erin and I looked at each other. We’d never heard her use that tone before.

“I can’t remember that far back,” my dad joked to lighten the mood.

“It was a long time ago for all of us,” Susan said.

“Right,” Mom agreed. She and Susan shared a look.

Erin and I did the same. Again.

What the hell was that about? her look asked.

No clue, mine said.

“Let’s change the subject,” Mom said.

“No problem,” I said. “So, Dad… tell me about the new plane.”

“Ah, right. It’s a sweet little ’72 Beech Baron. One of the guys at work…”

We buried Master Gunnery Sergeant Jeremiah John Kershaw with full military honors in the local cemetery on his family plot, alongside his parents and a baby sister. The day was crisp and achingly beautiful, with feathery cirrus clouds under the high blue vault of the heavens. The air rang with the sound of gunfire as the Marine Corps rifle squad fired three volleys and then the bugler played “Taps.”

I didn’t know if Christy was crying for her brother or Gunny, but it didn’t really matter. I put my arm around her and barely held back my own tears, although I would’ve been in good company if I hadn’t. Afterward the honor

guard folded the American flag with military precision and presented it to Gunny’s widow on behalf of a grateful nation.

We lingered at the gravesite and talked about the service. Then we drove to the local VFW, where the ladies of Lenore’s church served lunch. I felt embarrassed that I knew so little of Gunny’s life, although I heard plenty of stories over the next couple of hours. He was a remarkable man, a real character, and I wasn’t likely to meet anyone like him again.

We left the luncheon in a thoughtful but upbeat mood. We’d said goodbye to our friend, but we knew he wouldn’t want us to mourn forever.

Still, I couldn’t help but think about his loss and what it would mean to Susan. Gunny had been her friend as well as the camp’s unofficial major-domo.

Susan dropped us off at our rooms. She and Mom talked for a few minutes before she drove down the road to her own house. We had a big farewell dinner planned, but the afternoon was ours, so Christy and I changed into everyday clothes. I offered to give her a tour of the main camp, and Erin tagged along.

“Is it weird to have guys staring at you?” Christy asked her.

“Not really. Besides, they stare at you more in the real world. I mean, you know how guys talk to your boobs. And you’re like, ‘Up here! My eyes are up here.’”

“Maybe you have that problem,” Christy said with a laugh. “I don’t.”

“Okay, then whenever you bend over, and every guy stares at your butt.”

Christy nodded.

“Well, it isn’t really like that here. I mean, sometimes it is, but that’s mostly when you want a guy to look.” She glanced at me but didn’t say anything. “Everyone’s pretty cool otherwise. A couple of guys can be creepy at times, but most people discourage that kind of thing. I mean, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been ‘accidentally’ groped in the real world, but it’s never happened at camp. Not unless I wanted it.”

They shared a grin.

“It also helps that only families or couples are allowed,” Erin continued.

“No single men. Paul’s kind of an exception, but he couldn’t visit by himself if it weren’t for Susan.” She immediately realized she might have said too much, but she didn’t lose her cool. “You know,” she added, “since we’ve been coming here so long.”

“So it isn’t because your mom and Susan are… you know?”

Erin’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I told her,” I said, “but she also figured it out on her own as soon as she saw them together. She has this knack for reading people. It’s… uncanny.”

“Oh, okay,” Erin said. “So… yeah. Paul’s an exception ’cause of Mom and Susan.”

“So,” Christy said thoughtfully, “no single guys around to be… um…

jerks.”

“I didn’t say that,” Erin said with a laugh. “Single guys are always jerks sooner or later—”

“You can say that again,” Christy muttered.

“—but not because they stare at you,” Erin finished. “Besides, sometimes it’s nice to have guys stare at you. I mean, I can always tell which ones are interested and which ones don’t have a clue.”

“I don’t think I’ll have that problem,” Christy said. “I’m too skinny and small.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Erin said. “Sorry, no pun intended. But you have a really nice body, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Christy’s cheeks turned rosy, but she smiled and accepted the compliment.

“I wish my stomach was as flat as yours,” Erin continued. “And don’t get me started on my hips and butt. Ugh!”

“Don’t sell yourself short either,” I told her. “You’re totally hot and you know it.”

Christy gave me an odd look, but I didn’t take it back.

“You and Christy are simply built differently, Erin. She’s the small model, you’re medium.”

“Medium trying not to become large,” Erin said.

“Oh, relax. You aren’t pint-sized like Christy, but you’re hardly what I’d call large.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Christy agreed. “And the perfect size.”

Erin perked up. “You really think so?”

“Totally. You remind me of my sister-in-law. Marianne,” she said to me as an aside. “She’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Erin said, uncharacteristically demure.

Christy smiled up at me and slipped her arm through mine.

Erin watched us for a moment. “You two are cute together. And don’t take this the wrong way,” she said to Christy, “but you are totally not what I

imagined when Paul told us about you.”

“You can probably quit covering for me,” I told her. To Christy I said,

“Mom and Erin and Susan have been lying to keep me from looking like a complete jerk. I… um… hadn’t told them we were dating.”

Christy’s eyes flashed. “You really are the worst boyfriend in the world!”

“Told you,” Erin said smugly.

“Sorry,” I said. “We were so busy with your project and Thanksgiving and then my project. I won’t say I forgot, but… I guess I forgot.” I smiled at a sudden thought. “No, I take that back. I was so blissfully happy that I couldn’t think of anything but you.”

“Oh my God,” Erin groaned. “You are so full of crap.”

“You can say that again.”

“He is so full of crap.”

“Oh my gosh!” Christy blurted. “She’s just like you!”

“What’d you expect? She’s my sister. But really,” I explained, “I don’t talk to my family as much as you do. We’re mostly ‘no news is good news’

people.”

“So are we,” Christy said, “but we still talk.”

“Paul’s right,” Erin said in my defense. “We’re close, but not… talk-every-day close, if that makes sense.”

“I guess.”

“So I would’ve told them about you,” I said, “but things happened so quickly with the funeral and everything else that I forgot.”

“Then how did your mom know so much about me? I mean, if you didn’t tell her?”

“Susan.”

“How did she know? Did you tell her?”

“Um… no. Wren did.”

Christy threw up her hands. “Is everyone involved in this matchmaking scheme?” Then she grew suspicious. “Hold on… why was Wren talking to Susan? How do they even know each other?”

“Wren came to camp with us this summer,” I said. “Remember?” It was true, strictly speaking, but only half of the answer. The rest would have to wait for the swinger discussion, if we ever got that far.

“Oh yeah, right. Sorry. But still… why is she telling her about me?”

“You want the truth?”

“To thine own girlfriend…”

Erin laughed. “Now she sounds like Dad.”

“Yep.” I chuckled but then paused when I realized how quickly Christy and I were becoming more like each other.

“So…,” Christy pressed, “why is Wren talking to Susan about me?”

“She wanted some advice. About you and me and… um… Gina.”

Erin looked at me sidelong. “Okay, since you brought it up…” She glanced apologetically at Christy. “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind, but… I’m dying to know. Paul, what happened with you and Gina? All she told Leah was that you wanted to stay friends.”

She glanced at Christy again and decided to elaborate. “Paul and Gina pretty much grew up together. First loves and all that. We all thought they’d get married. Her family and ours. Then… they broke up. We thought they’d get back together eventually, and for a while it looked like they had, but then… nothing.” She turned to me again. “So, what happened?”

I thought about it, and we walked in silence for almost a minute. Erin could barely contain herself, but Christy walked beside me with remarkable composure.

“Two reasons,” I said at last. “Gina and I will always love each other, but we decided we couldn’t make a long-distance relationship work.”

“We figured that was part of it,” Erin said. “But what’s the other reason?”

“You’re looking at her,” I said with a nod toward Christy, who smiled at Erin and did a happy little bounce step.

“For real? No offense,” Erin added quickly. “I mean, you’re totally awesome, Christy, but… Paul and Gina were, like, perfect for each other. We really thought they were going to be together forever.”

“Well, Gina and I never talked about it,” I said. “The forever part, I mean.

And deep down, we probably both knew.” I shrugged. “Think about it, Er…

we want different things. She wants to be a doctor in California. I want to be an architect in Atlanta.”

“Yeah, but… it’s Gina,” Erin said wistfully.

“Sometimes your first love doesn’t last. I guess that was the case with Gina and me. It wasn’t meant to be. I’ll always love her, and I want her to be happy, but it’ll have to be with someone else, not me.”

Erin nodded. Then she glanced at Christy. “Sorry to bring that up. But since Paul mentioned it, I figured you knew.”

“Some of it,” Christy said. “Although not the part about how everyone expected them to get married.”

“Even Paul probably didn’t know. He’s kinda slow on the uptake sometimes. Maybe you noticed.”

“I did,” Christy said with a sideways grin at me. “It took him forever to realize I liked him.”

“What can I say? I was distracted by your beautiful… eyes.”

Christy rolled the eyes in question.

“Okay, he’s totally right about that,” Erin said. “Your eyes are gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”

“And if you won Paul’s heart, then you must be extra-special.”

“She is,” I said.

“Wow,” Christy said, “I need to hang out with you guys more often.”

“Well, me for sure,” I said. “Erin’s just trying to get on your good side.”

“And why wouldn’t I, you big doofus? Sounds like she’s going to be around for a while.”

“I hope so.”

Christy took my arm again. “Me too.”

“So,” Erin said, “now that we have that settled, what else can I tell you about camp?”

Christy thought about it. “What’re the people like?”

“Just people, I suppose.”

“No… I mean…” She winced and looked skyward. “I’m going to sound so shallow, but… what do they look like?”

“It’s okay,” Erin said with a laugh. “I get it.”

“I mean, do they look like you and Paul, or—?”

“Oh, God no! Paul’s one of the hot guys.”

Christy beamed up at me.

“Most of the men are family types. Some of ’em are sexy in a ‘hot dad’

sort of way—”

Christy scrunched her nose automatically.

“—but most are just average. I mean, not ugly, but not Adonis-types like Paul and a few others.”

“He is sort of an Adonis, isn’t he?” Christy said.

“He didn’t used to be.”

“Oh?”

“Uh-uh. He used to be soft and pudgy.”

“Thanks, Erin,” I said dryly.

“At least until Su— he discovered girls.”

“It was baby fat,” I explained to Christy, mostly to cover Erin’s slip.

“Then I joined the wrestling team and started working out.”

“And oh, boy, did he change! He went from pudgy to hunky in, like, a year. I kinda agree with Mom, though—he could stand to gain a few pounds

—but he’s nothing like he used to be.”

“Thanks for the trip down memory lane,” I said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Christy took pity on me and changed the subject. “What’re the women like? At the camp, I mean.”

“About the same as the men. Some are really hot, like Susan or Elizabeth or our mom, but most are just average. They sag and have stretch marks and stuff like that, but—”

“They’re all beautiful,” I said firmly, “in one way or another.”

Erin’s eyebrows rose.

“There’s beauty in everything,” I told her. “And every one. Even a middle-aged mom who doesn’t have time to do her hair and makeup and is probably struggling to lose a couple of pounds.”

“If you say so,” she said.

“I say so.”

Christy looked at me thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re yang after all.”

“Maybe I’m a little of both,” I said with a sideways look. “Just like you aren’t sunshine and light all the time.”

“No,” she agreed softly.

“Wow,” Erin said after a moment, “I have no idea what that was about, but you two are way more into each other than I thought.”

“We’ve only been together since Thanksgiving,” I said. “Officially, at least. But we’ve been dancing around it for a while.” I glanced at Christy. “I think since we first met.”

“Except when you were a jerk,” she said with an affectionate smile.

“And when you were a you-know-what.”

“He calls me a Catholic schoolgirl when he’s being mean,” she explained to Erin.

“Oh, right.”

“What he doesn’t realize,” Christy continued, “is that I still have my school uniforms… and they still fit.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot up.

“So he might like me being a Catholic schoolgirl, if you know what I

mean.”

Erin laughed.

So there! Christy said to me with a self-satisfied smile.

I nodded and couldn’t help but admire her. Touché.

Thank you.

Back at the clubhouse my dad recruited me to help finish Gunny’s project.

He’d been rewiring the 240-volt circuit for the stoves, which explained why my mom had been frying eggs in the electric skillet.

“I think I’ll go grocery shopping with your mom and the others,” Christy said. She rose on tiptoes for a kiss.

“Sure,” I said. “Have fun. Make sure they buy something you’ll eat.”

“I will, Mr. Thoughtful.” She left with a wave.

I went to join my dad behind the clubhouse at the main electrical panel. I took one look at it and almost stopped in my tracks. It was a rat’s nest of wires that connected a mixture of fuses and breakers. Two of the circuits were connected with wire nuts, without a cutout at all. That was a serious code violation and an actual fire hazard. Gunny had been a top-notch Marine, but he wasn’t an electrician.

“I hate to speak ill of the dead…,” I said vaguely.

“My thoughts exactly,” Dad agreed.

“Oh, well. Standing around isn’t going to fix it.” I rolled up my sleeves and shut down the building’s power. At least someone had sold Gunny the right materials for the current job—I plucked a name from deep in my subconscious: Mr. McMasters at the hardware store—so we had new 30-amp double breakers and plenty of heavy-gauge Romex.

Kirk and Doug appeared and asked if we needed help.

“Thanks, but…” I gestured at the panel. “It’s really just a two-man job.”

“How ’bout inside?”

“Gunny wired all that before he died.”

Kirk nodded.

“Why don’t you build a fire in the clubhouse to warm it up for tonight,”

Dad suggested. “And make sure the hot tub is ready for later.”

“What about the pump?” Doug asked.

“It’s on a dedicated circuit with its own panel,” I said.

“I’m sure we’ll find something else that needs fixing,” Kirk said. “Come on, Dougie. Let’s get to work.”

Dad and I did the same. We started the job with me helping him, but I gradually took over when he realized I had more experience, and our roles had reversed completely by the time we were done.

“You’re better at this than I am,” he said appreciatively.

I felt my cheeks flush. “Trip and I just did the same thing at our house, more or less.”

“Still,” he said, “good job.”

“Don’t congratulate me until we check everything.”

“You did it right,” he said. “Measure twice, cut once.”

I grinned. It was what his father had taught him. Then I held my breath and threw the main. The panel hummed and fell silent. Power was definitely flowing—the meter was spinning slowly—and nothing had arced or blown.

“So far, so good,” I said.

We went inside, where we turned on every stove eye and all the ovens.

Nothing sparked, nothing smoked, and nothing blew, even under full load.

“Well done,” Dad said.

“Thanks.”

We turned off everything and headed around back to clean up our tools and work area. We were cleaning ourselves at the sinks inside when the women returned from the store.

All six of them had gone and had clearly had fun. Kirk and Doug materialized and helped us unload their mom’s station wagon.

“Wow,” Susan said as she entered the clubhouse, “you have been busy.”

After Kirk and Doug had hauled in firewood and checked the hot tub, they’d set to work with plastic sheeting and staple guns to cover the rest of the clubhouse screens. They’d also kept the fire stoked, so the place wasn’t as drafty and cold as it had been. It wasn’t quite toasty yet, but it was definitely comfortable with my sleeves rolled up.

Christy came toward me as the others headed to the kitchen to unpack groceries and start cooking.

“I love your family,” she said quietly. “They’re nothing like mine, though.”

“They are in the important ways.”

“Oh, I know. But wow… they talk about sex a lot.”

“I told you, it’s important. And we’re a lot more open about it.”

“A lot more open,” she agreed with rosy cheeks. Then she grinned. “Your ears were probably burning.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm hmm. We were talking about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Very good. The kind that make me all tingly inside.”

My eyebrows rose with a question.

“I’d better help with the groceries,” she said.

“Oh, you’re such a tease!”

“And don’t you forget it.”

She grinned and stretched upward for a kiss, which I gave her. I also gave her a playful swat on the backside as she headed toward the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder and looked immensely pleased with herself.

While the women started cooking dinner, the men gave the interior of the clubhouse a thorough going-over. We tightened loose screws on chairs and tables. We fixed broken couch legs and squeaky doors. We even rolled up the rugs and took them outside for a good beating before we dust-mopped the entire floor.

I had to chuckle to myself, though. I’d been so smug and superior when Christy’s family had split up to do “women’s work” and “men’s work,” yet my own family had done almost the same thing.

So much for my high horse, I thought wryly.

The clubhouse warmed appreciably with the screens covered and the fireplace and stoves putting out heat. Plus, all of us were working. So I wasn’t surprised when Susan and Mom nonchalantly took off their clothes and went back to cooking in just their aprons. Dawn, Olivia, and Erin all followed suit. Poor Christy looked incredibly self-conscious all of a sudden.

Erin must have said something to Mom, because she immediately went over to her.

I leaned on my dust mop and followed the conversation from their expressions and body language. Mom assured Christy that no one would mind if she kept her clothes on. But Christy wanted to be part of the family—

it was important to her—even though Mom said it wasn’t a big deal. Susan chimed in, and Erin as well, but Christy wasn’t having it.

She finally took off her apron, removed her jeans and blouse, and reached up to pop the catch on her bra. Her fancy black lingerie raised an eyebrow or

two, but that was it. She pulled off her panties, thrust her feet into her shoes, and slipped her apron over her head.

I grinned at her nervous-but-defiant attitude, and I silently thanked Erin when she gave her a sisterly hug.

“What was that all about?” my dad asked from beside me.

I’d been so preoccupied that I hadn’t heard him come up. “Um… I sort of didn’t tell Christy we were nudists until two days ago.”

His eyebrows rose. Then he chuckled and shook his head. He started to say something but thought better of it.

“What?” I said defensively.

“Nothing.”

“No… what?” I insisted.

“Nothing. Just… you’d better get your act together, son, especially in the girlfriend department.”

I wanted to object but kept my mouth shut instead.

“Good man,” he said when he read my expression. Then he leaned close.

“And maybe it wouldn’t hurt to call home more often. Your mom’s been a little lonely with me working so much and Erin busy with exams and everything else.”

“Ah. Got it.”

“So give her a call and tell her what’s going on in your life. I think she’d like that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good man,” he repeated with a clap on the shoulder. “Now, let’s finish up here and then get out of these clothes. I dunno ’bout you, but I’m feeling a little overdressed. Besides, I’m sure the ladies wouldn’t mind a little company before dinner.” He waggled his eyebrows and then laughed at my look of surprise.

“Hey,” he said, “your old man isn’t so old after all.”

I knew for a fact that he wasn’t, and I secretly hoped I’d be as horny as he was when I reached his age.

Kirk and Doug snapped me out of my reverie when they returned with the largest rug. Dad and I set aside our dust mops to help roll it out. Then we moved the couches back into position and shed our clothes to join the ladies as proper nudists.

I had an idea, so I pulled Susan aside and asked for her car keys.

“What’s up?” she said as she dug them out of her purse.

“Trying to think ahead for a change.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm hmm. Can I borrow Christy too?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. Dinner in… what? Ten, fifteen minutes?”

“About fifteen.” She arched an inquisitive eyebrow but let me go without any more questions.

“Where’re we going?” Christy asked as we climbed into the car.

“You’ll see.” A minute later I parked outside Susan’s house.

Christy followed me inside with a mixture of eagerness and confusion.

“What’re you up to?”

“Linen closet is this way,” I answered cryptically. She followed and looked puzzled when I opened the door and gestured.

Susan always kept a supply of beach towels, a sort of lost-and-found collection that changed over time. Old towels went home with people as she lent them out and they forgot to return them, but different ones replaced them when other people accidentally left them behind. The current stack had a few that I recognized, but most were new to the collection.

“Always know where your towel is,” I said to Christy.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Here, I’ll show you.”

I handed her a small stack and grabbed a larger one myself. I did a quick count to make sure we had enough for everyone. Then I led her back to the kitchen and set them on the table. She followed suit but looked confused when I took the top towel and set it on the counter next to the sink. She squeaked in surprise as I picked her up and set her on it.

“Behold, the towel,” I said grandly. “Just about the most massively useful thing any nudist can carry. You can sit on it. You can dry yourself with it.

You can lie in the sun on it. You can even wrap it around yourself if you’re cold.

“Everyone at camp carries one in the summer,” I continued. “But it’s winter, so none of us had them in the clubhouse. We’ll need them for the hot tub later, too. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I could fetch towels and show you something at the same time. Besides,” I added with a grin, “I wanted to get you alone for a few minutes. You’re incredibly sexy in that apron.”

She rolled her eyes, but my grin was infectious.

I leaned forward and kissed her. Then I grew serious. “Are you doing okay?”

“Mmm hmm. A little nervous at first, but…” She shrugged. “It isn’t a big deal. Erin was right, no one stares or anything.”

“I do. At you, especially.”

“Yes, but I want you to stare.”

“Oh you do?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Anything you want me to do besides stare?”

“Like what?” she asked coyly.

“Like this.” I moved the bib of her apron and planted a kiss on her exposed nipple.

She gasped when I nibbled gently. The little bud stiffened, so I circled her areola with my tongue and then sucked the whole thing into my mouth. She whimpered when my teeth closed around it.

“Bite it,” she whispered urgently.

I bit it. Then I switched to the other and did the same. She held my head and moaned softly as I spent a few minutes licking, sucking, and gently biting. I finally pulled back and grinned at her.

“We should probably get back,” I said.

“In a minute.” She leaned forward for a kiss. Our lips met, and I could almost feel her pent-up desire. She wrapped her arms around my neck, so I lifted her off the counter. Her legs automatically wrapped around me, and she moaned softly when I supported her with my hands on her bare ass.

“Oh look,” I said, “another kitchen table.”

Her eyes widened.

“Mmm hmm. I definitely need to fuck you on a kitchen table.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“When you’re ready,” I told her softly. I kissed her again, but without the heat from before. “Till then, you’ll just have to imagine it.”

She let out her breath with a soft groan.

“Two can play the teasing game,” I said with a grin.

“You can say that again. No, don’t!”

My grin widened, and she returned it before she kissed me again.

“We have to stop,” she said at last, breathless.

“Yeah. Are you ready to head back?”

“I think so. Are you?” She glanced down. She couldn’t see my erection,

but she knew it was there.

“Yeah. He’ll go soft on the drive back. Just… don’t look at him. He might think you’re interested.”

“I am interested. Just… later. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She uncrossed her ankles, and I set her on the floor. Her apron caught on my hard-on and left it bobbing gently. She grinned at the sight of it, but then her expression changed.

For a moment I thought she might drop to her knees and blow me then and there, but she controlled herself and looked away. I didn’t say anything and neither did she, but we both knew. I silently cursed my rule and conjured a smile to hide my disappointment. Christy took a deep, steadying breath.

“We’d better go,” I said at last. “Being alone with you is dangerous.”

She nodded and helped me carry the towels to the car.

My erection had softened to half-mast by the time we returned to the clubhouse. It was still full and thick, but not so stiff that it stuck out. Susan did her best to hide a grin as I returned her car keys. Christy seemed relieved when no one said anything about how long we’d been gone or why we were both flushed with excitement.

I sent her back to work with a quick kiss. Then I took the stack of towels to where Kirk and Doug had assembled a long table out of several smaller ones. I walked around and dropped a towel on each chair. Most of them had padded vinyl seats, which were a nuisance with bare skin.

The women started bringing food over almost immediately. Dinner was simple but abundant: spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and a huge tossed salad.

Christy managed to hide her look of dismay when Susan handed her a plate of pasta with several meatballs.

“Let me know when you’re ready for more,” she said.

“I will, thanks,” Christy said. Then she looked at me with pleading eyes.

Don’t worry, I told her silently. I moved my own plate toward hers and stabbed one of her meatballs with my fork.

“What’re you doing, Paul?” Erin protested. “Those are hers.”

Christy looked at me again and begged me not to say anything. She even tried to push my hand away.

“Get your own,” Erin said.

Mom gestured. “Hand me your plate, Paul.”

“No, it’s fine,” Christy said. “He can have mine. I—”

“She doesn’t eat meat,” I told them. “And she’s too polite to say anything.”

“Oh, thank God,” Dawn said out of the blue.

Kirk looked chagrined.

“I thought I was the only one.”

Everyone shifted their attention from Christy to Dawn.

“I’m a vegetarian too,” she explained.

“Is that all?” Susan said. “For heaven’s sake, why didn’t you just tell us?”

Then she looked horrified. “Oh my goodness! And I asked you to make the meatballs.”

It was Dawn’s turn to look chagrined. “It was all I could do not to gag.”

Susan turned her gaze on her son and glared. “Kirk Edward MacLean, why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been trying to feed this poor girl meat since I first met her. Almost two years!” Her expression softened as she looked back to Dawn. “You should’ve told me. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Dawn said. “I didn’t want to make a fuss.”

“Bless your heart. But make a fuss next time! I don’t mind. I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you.”

I’d just started to relax when Susan turned her high-intensity look to me.

“And you should know better too. You and Kirk! I thought we raised you better than that. Both of you! If your girlfriends don’t like something but are too polite to speak up, it’s your job to have a quiet word with one of us.”

I felt a sudden fit of pique. “Why? Because we’re the men?”

“No,” Susan said with deliberate calm, “because we’re your family and you know us better than they do. So if they’re uncomfortable about something, it’s your responsibility to make it right. I’d tell them the same thing if they were my daughters and you were the ones who had a problem.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed! Did you think this was a man-woman thing? It isn’t. It’s common courtesy!” She drew breath for another lash of the whip, but changed her mind when my mom laid a hand over hers.

“I think they understand,” Mom assured her. “And… maybe you’re a little embarrassed that you didn’t figure it out sooner? About Dawn?” She caressed Susan’s hand to take the sting out of her words.

“Maybe you’re right,” Susan admitted.

“No ‘maybe’ about it.”

Susan nodded and then smiled at her with such tenderness that my breath caught in my throat. Christy’s hand found mine under the table and squeezed.

“I should’ve told you,” Kirk said into the silence. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Me too,” I said. “And… I’m sorry I thought it was a sexist thing.”

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” Susan said. “I guess I’m still upset from Jeremiah’s death. And… Beth’s right.” She looked at Dawn. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” Dawn said. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

“Next time, tell me,” Susan said. “I can take it. I’m a tough old bird.”

I snorted a laugh.

Every head at the table swiveled toward me.

“You aren’t as tough as you think,” I said mildly. “You aren’t that old, either.”

All the men and most of the women shook their heads.

“And if you’re a ‘bird,’” I finished, “it’s only because you’re a hot chick.”

Mom smiled at me gratefully, and Christy squeezed my hand again.

“He’s right,” my dad chimed in. “One of the hottest chicks I know.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re hoping to get lucky,” Susan shot back, but sweet instead of tart.

“Already am lucky,” he said. “Hoping to get luckier is all.”

“Keep that up and you just might,” Mom told him with a smile. She also squeezed Susan’s hand, and they shared a look that spoke volumes.

Christy gripped my own hand so hard that I thought she might burst. She smiled at me with tears in her eyes.

See? I told her silently. Love is love.

After dinner we cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen as a group.

Everyone helped, and we finished in about fifteen minutes with all ten of us working. Then we took our towels and headed out to the hot tub to relax and soak. I hadn’t seen Dawn or Olivia in a while, so I used the opportunity to discreetly check them out.

Dawn was an athletic blonde, although taller and heavier than Christy.

Her figure was more boyish, though, with flat breasts and slim hips. She’d had a full bush the first time I met her, but her current hairstyle was a small triangle at the top of her shaved slit. She also sported an engagement ring that was new since the last time.

Olivia was Dawn’s opposite in many ways: five inches taller and probably twenty-five pounds heavier, with a figure that reminded me of Susan, especially since she shaved her pubic hair as well. She was a brunette too, and her personality was more like Susan’s, wry and sharp compared to Dawn’s perkiness.

Susan herself drew my attention as she draped her towel over a patio chair and descended the stairs into the hot tub. Mom and Dad joined her, followed by Kirk and Doug and their fiancées. Erin hung back to sit by Christy and me, so I stepped into the bubbling water first.

The tub was big, but seven adults displaced enough water that it sloshed over the coping as I joined them. Even more water streamed onto the concrete deck as Christy and Erin sat beside me. Christy was so short that her chin barely cleared the surface, so I put my arm around her and guided her into my lap.

“Much better,” I said.

“It’s a pain being our size,” Dawn said to her, “isn’t it?”

“Sometimes,” Christy agreed.

“I mostly wish I was taller.”

“Me too. And heavier.”

I glanced at Christy. “I dunno. I like you just the way you are.”

Kirk put his arm around Dawn and agreed with a nod.

“Especially when you sit on my lap,” I added. “Then we always have something to talk about.”

Christy stiffened with embarrassment, but everyone else smiled at the old joke. The conversation turned to other things, so I took advantage of the moment and leaned close to her ear.

“Relax,” I said softly. “We’re more open about it, remember?”

She nodded.

“It just takes some getting used to.”

“You can say that again,” she said.

“You’re doing fine.” I kissed her cheek and hugged her protectively.

She relaxed against my chest, but then jerked in surprise when she felt my nascent erection press into her thigh.

“Sorry,” I said without meaning it. “Can’t help it.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “I kind of like it.”

“Only kind of?”

“Okay, I like it a lot.”

“Good. ’Cause you’re going to spend a lot of time with it.”

“With him,” she corrected.

“Are you all talking about his dick again?” Erin asked in a low voice.

“Sorry,” Christy said immediately.

“No, it’s cool. I mean, you’re his girlfriend, right? You’re supposed to talk about it.”

“But it’s kind of weird that you know we’re talking about it,” Christy said. “I mean, you’re his sister.”

“Nah, it isn’t weird. We’ve always been like that. Besides, it’s just a body part, like an arm or leg, even if it does seem to have a mind of its own.”

“I know, right!” Christy said. She leaned toward Erin to whisper, “He and Paul actually have conversations.”

“I’m not surprised,” Erin laughed. “Paul’s always talked to himself. So I guess it’s only natural for him to talk to his dick too.” She glanced at me.

“So, big brother, what’s he have to say for himself?”

“Not much. He has a one-track mind.”

“You can say that again,” Christy murmured affectionately.

“Speaking of which,” I said, and shifted her toward me a bit. “Much better. Room to grow and all that.”

Erin rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “So, Christy, what’re your plans for Christmas?”

“With my family in San Diego.”

“Will you have a chance to come visit us?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced at me. “Do you want me to?”

“You know I do. Let’s check your ticket when we get home. You might be able to cash in the Knoxville-Atlanta portion. You can ride home with me and then just fly direct to San Diego.”

“That’d be awesome,” Erin said. Then she barged ahead without thinking.

“What about New Year’s? We go skiing every year. Maybe you can join us.”

“Didn’t you tell them?” Christy said to me.

“Tell us what?”

“We’re going skiing with Trip and Wren,” I said. “In Lake Tahoe.”

Erin’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Chill, Erin,” I said with a laugh. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“I know. I just thought… it’d be nice to have her along.”

“We’re trying to take things slow. Besides,” I added with a significant look, “I don’t think she’s ready for a week with our family and all its… um…

crazy traditions.”

Erin actually flinched when she realized what she’d almost done. She recovered immediately and said, “Oh my God, no kidding! We’d probably drive her nuts.”

“What kind of traditions?” Christy asked.

“Just silly games and stuff,” Erin said, seemingly off-hand. “But tell me more about this trip to Lake Tahoe. Sounds romantic.”

“I hope so,” Christy said, completely distracted. She gave me a searching look. “I was a bit worried at first, but after this weekend…”

Erin lit up at the prospect of details. “Ooh, what happened?”

“I told you we’re taking things slow,” I said, and she nodded. “Well, it’s the first time we’ve spent the night together. As a couple, I mean.”

Erin’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“Wow,” Erin said, “a nudist camp and spending the night with you. You really threw her in the deep end, didn’t you? You’re lucky she’s still with you.”

“Very,” I agreed.

“Oh, I’m used to the deep end,” Christy said. “I was on the diving team.

Springboard and platform.”

“You know what I mean,” Erin said.

“Yeah, I do.” She grinned at me. “Paul used to think I was a goody-goody. But I’m really pretty adventurous. I mean… I’m sitting in a hot tub without a swimsuit with a bunch of nudists.”

“That’s pretty adventurous,” Erin agreed.

“Still, we’re taking baby steps,” I told her with another significant look.

Translation: don’t mention the swinging again.

Erin nodded—to what I’d said aloud and what I hadn’t.

Kirk and Dawn were sitting on the other side of the stairs from us, and while he was talking to my dad about the Navy, she’d been waiting for a lull in our conversation.

“Hey, Erin,” she said, “you mentioned Mock Trial earlier. What’s that about?”

“It’s one of the clubs at school,” Erin said. “We…”

Christy and I listened as Erin explained the background of the trial and her role in it (she was a defense attorney). Dawn said she’d wanted to go to law school before she discovered her affinity for the stock market, so she and Erin had plenty to talk about. On the other side of us, Doug and Olivia were talking with Susan and my mom about the camp.

Since no one was paying attention to Christy and me, I moved my hand to her lap and gently tickled her bush. I didn’t want to distract or embarrass her, so I simply curled my finger through her pubes, mostly as a silent preview of what I was going to do to her later.

The conversations continued around us, but neither of us were in the mood for chit-chat. She wanted to be alone as much as I did, but she wasn’t assertive enough to say so. I lasted another fifteen minutes before I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“You ready to head to the room?” I asked her quietly.

“Yes, please.”

I waited for a break in Mom and Susan’s conversation and then said, “I think we’re gonna head up.”

They nodded in understanding.

“What time do you wanna leave in the morning?” I asked Dad.

“I was thinking after breakfast.”

“Have you checked the weather?”

“Fine in the morning, but winds picking up and a low-pressure front moving in later.”

“Welcome to the Carolina piedmont,” Kirk said. “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.”

“It’s the same where we live,” I said. “The mountains play havoc with the weather patterns.”

“Yep,” he agreed.

Dad nodded and said, “Which is why I’d like to take advantage of the good weather in the morning, especially since we’re headed into the front.”

“Roger that,” Kirk and I said at the same time, and we shared a grin.

“We’ll be ready to leave after breakfast,” I added. “In the meantime, we’re going to head up.”

Christy and I climbed out of the hot tub. The temperature had dropped since sundown, and our bare skin steamed in the cool evening air. Our towels were cold but dry, so we wrapped them around us and said goodnight to the

others.

Back in the room we didn’t waste time with foreplay. I simply pulled off her towel, threw mine after it, and picked her up. I pinned her against the door, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my body. Her kisses were hungry and insistent, and her bare skin practically burned against mine.

“Oh my gosh,” she panted, “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

“Since the towels,” I said between kisses.

“I want you so much.”

I groaned and imagined her begging me to fuck her. I came to my senses pretty quickly, but she sensed my hesitation.

“Sorry,” I said. “My imagination just ran wild. Thinking about fucking you.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“Mmm hmm. Not ready for that, are you?”

She shook her head mutely.

“Thought not.” I chuckled. “That’s okay. Instead, I think I’ll throw you on the bed… spread your legs… and eat your pussy until you beg me to stop.”

“Yes, please.”

“After that, I have a huge load for you to swallow. Then we can take our time for load number two.”

“Mmm, semen.”

“You love how it feels in your mouth, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Not yet,” I teased. “Not until we’re married.”

“But you promised! Please, please. I’ll do anything you want.”

“I don’t know who’s a bigger tease,” I laughed, “you or me.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re a little tease.”

“Uh-uh. I’m a big tease. The biggest ever.”

“You might be right,” I chuckled. “You’ve been teasing me since September.”

“What?” she squawked. “I have not!”

“Have too. Wearing your skimpy shorts and tight little tops. Thin bras and loose sweaters. And all that sexy lingerie you leave lying around in your bedroom.”

“Are… are you serious? You notice all those things?”

“Mmm hmm. I’ve been paying attention since we first moved in together, although I was too stubborn to admit it. But then Wren told me about your oral fixation, and—”

“Ugh! I’m going to wring her neck.”

“Maybe you wanna reconsider,” I said with a chuckle. “In the meantime, hold that thought.” I carried her to the edge of the bed and sat down. She loosened her hold around my neck and sat on my thighs. “Much better,” I said. “More comfortable but everything’s still in reach.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Now, back to Wren. Don’t get too upset at her. I know it sounds shallow, but I didn’t think of you in girlfriend terms until she told me what you like. I mean, sex is way too important.”

“I can tell. Your whole family talks about it all the time.”

“Uh-huh. And now maybe you understand why it’s such a big deal. And why I really started to like you once I realized you weren’t a prude.”

“I’ve never been a prude,” she protested.

“Yeah, I know. That was my fault. I had a bad series of girlfriends with major religious hangups, and I painted you with the same brush.”

“I don’t have any hangups either. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Not only here, but nude and horny too.”

“Very,” she agreed.

“My kind of girl. So… what should we do about it?”

“You know.”

“Uh-uh. You tell me.”

“I can’t. It’s too embarrassing.”

“What? You’ll do it but won’t say it?”

“Well… yes. Or no. You know what I mean.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Okay, maybe I have a few hangups after all. So sue me.”

“I’d like to use you instead. But… you have to ask.”

“Can’t you just do it? You already said—”

“But you have to say it.”

“I feel like such a tramp when I talk like that.”

“I understand. You aren’t a tramp, but I get it.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and said to herself, “I can do this.”

“You’re fearless,” I agreed.

“Tell that to the butterflies in my stomach and Sister Prune in my head.”

“Sister Prune?”

“Sister Prudence. She taught Morality and Christian Living.”

“And never had an impure thought in her life.”

“Not likely,” she snorted.

“But you do,” I continued. “And sometimes you have to say them aloud.”

“But you just said it,” she pleaded. “You know what I want.”

“Yep. But you have to ask.”

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Okay, here goes…” She took a deep breath. “Will you please… go down on me? There! I said it. Are you proud of me?”

“Mmm hmm. I am.” I kissed her and then grinned. “But… what do you want me to do while I’m down there?”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “I want you to… you know… lick it.”

“Lick what?”

“Ugh! You drive me crazy you’re so stubborn!”

“Yep.”

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Yep’?”

“Yep.”

“You are so annoying! I don’t know why I even like you.”

“Because I let you be yourself. And I don’t judge you for it. I don’t think you’re a tramp or a slut or even a nympho. Instead, I tell you it’s all right to like sex. It’s all right to say things in private without feeling embarrassed.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Her expression softened, and she caressed my face. Then she drew herself up and cleared her throat. “Are you ready?”

I nodded.

“Okay, here goes…” She looked me directly in the eye. “Will you please throw me on the bed, spread my legs, and lick my pussy till I beg you to stop?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”