But . . . he's a nice guy. He can bereallydominant in agoodway, then turn caring in the next second. It's . .

"It's making me c.u.m just thinking about it," Courtney said, her legs in the air, crossed, and rubbing back and forth.

"Courtney, would youquitthat?" Pam said, looking away. "Courtney is just . . . gone. She's turning into a total wh.o.r.e, I swear."

"As long as I'm Mike's ho," Courtney said, laughing and sitting up. "Me."

"Here's Courtney."

"I really was tired last night," Courtney said. "It wasn't drugs, it was being out on the boat and being amazinglyh.o.r.n.y for hours. It really took it out of me."

"He's that great?" Stacey said, disbelieving.

"He's got a body like a ruined Adonis," Courtney said. "Great legs, huge thighs, nice calves, stomach's a bit big, but I think that's age because it's strong too. Arms, shoulders, great tan, and these ma.s.sive scars on his chest and stomach. Like Pam said, he got really shot up; I don't know how he lived, you know?

When I got up I checked Pam's cabin . . ."

"You were on the boat last night?" Stacey asked.

"Oh, yeah, it's a big boat," Courtney said. "A yacht, I guess. Did I mention he's rich? Anyway, I checked Pam's room and she wasn't therrre . . ." she caroled, grinning evilly.

"Oh, shut up," Pam said, shaking her head.

"So I crept up to the main cabin and peeked in and he was awake and Pam was just out like a light. I guess she was worn out," she added, winking at Pam.

"Ithadbeen a long day," Pam said.

"Long night more like it," Courtney said. "When he got out of bed it was like watching a Cro-Magnon or something. He's apparently got a lot of joint damage. And hestilllooked good. Well, except for the new scars on hisback," she said with a grin, winking at Pam.

"And he started making coffee, moving better by then, and then . . ." Courtney paused and shook her head. "It got sort of confused. There was this apple and then we were on the floor and he pinned my arms down with my shirt and stuffed my . . . anyway, he just . . . took me. He played with me, I mean reallyplayed, not just 'let's get her wet enough to get it in,' but just worked me all the way 'til I came and then just . . . took me." She stopped, panting.

"Courtney," Stacey said, a bit breathlessly. "I don't have a boyfriend right now. Could we cut back a little on the description?"

"Well, let's just say I know what Pam meant by one continuous c.u.m," Courtney said, shaking her head.

"Mindblowing doesn't begin to describe it. When Pam came out I was still stark naked and Ilikedit. He's into bondage and all that, by the way. We talked about it this morning. But he's . . . he keeps talking about safety and making sure we're clear when we'renotin what he calls 'scene.' He's . . . just soblunt about some things. But in a good way. It's almost like taking a cla.s.s. A reallyfuncla.s.s!" she finished.

"I wish I was there," Stacey sighed. "But I've got to work."

"Come on down," Courtney said. "Plenty of room. And I'm sure he could wear all three of us out!"

"Won't fly," Stacey said. "But I'm glad you're having fun."

"We are," Courtney said. "Lots of fun. Fun fishing, fun snorkeling, fun partying, andlotsof fun s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g.

G.o.d, I want to screw him again. I want him to screwmeagain. I'm getting wet just thinking about it."

"I'm getting wet just hearing about it," Stacey sighed. "Look, call me, okay? Every day you can."

"Okay," Courtney said. "Talk later."

"Girls," Mike said when Pam and Courtney came up on the flying bridge. "Do either of you have a pa.s.sport? Barring that, how about a birth certificate?"

"I've got a birth certificate," Pam said, frowning. "But not with me."

"Me, too," Courtney said. "But, why?"

"I want to take you to the Bahamas," Mike said. "It's just over the Stream. The diving's better, for one thing. And less boats, for another, once you get away from Bimini. Some good clubs on the islands, too.

I was thinking about just going . . . cruising. Fish some, dive some, play around, do a little clubbing. I don't dance, but I'd love to watch you two. But you need birth certificates. Getting into the Bahamas is no big deal, but you need one to get back in the States. Technically. Probably we could slip you in to Islamorada, but it would get sticky if we got stopped or if customs found out."

"Mine's at home," Pam said, shrugging. "So's Courtney's."

Mike nodded and sighed. "You'd have to ask your parents to send it down, right?"

"Oh, that would be a great call," Courtney said, grimacing in panic. "'Hi, Dad, I've met this guy who's into bondage who wants to take me to a foreign country so he can work his will on me.' Not."

"Well, we've got a couple of days to decide," Mike said, shrugging. "I need to call a friend to send me some gear, and that will take a day or so to get here."

"Bondage gear?" Pam asked nervously.

"Very," Mike replied. "I've got a FedEx number. If you can work up the courage, all you have to do is give it to your parents and they can send the paperwork. You're both eighteen or older, right? I should have asked before, my bad that I didn't."

"Yes," Courtney said. "I'm eighteen, Pam's nineteen."

"Well, I'd really like you to call your parents and get the paperwork," Mike said. "If we can't, we can't, and I might just go ahead and go anyway. Like I said, we probably wouldn't get caught coming back in.

And even if we did, well . . ." He shrugged. "I've got some strings I can pull to get it cleared up." He suddenly stopped and blanched as he imagined the report getting to the President. It probably wouldn't go higher than Pierson, which would be funny rather than embarra.s.sing. But if it got to the President, or even the NSA . . .

"What's wrong?" Pam asked worriedly.

"I was just imagining if the conversation got . . . as high as it might," Mike said, shaking his head.

"Embarra.s.sing doesn't begin to cover it. Much as you don't want your parents getting in on the conversation, youreallydon't want it going where it might go otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Courtney said uncertainly.

"Well . . ." Mike said, wanting to explain but not knowing how to do so. "Let's put it this way. From what I did with the Navy, I've got some pretty high contacts who would be willing to pull strings to let my two coed . . . girlfriends, who obviouslyareAmerican citizens, back into the country. But do youreally want your names going across the desk of, say, an undersecretary of defense?"Not to mention Donald Brandeis's, he thought.

"Oh," Pam said, blanching.

"So, if you can screw up your courage, call your parents," Mike said. "The sooner the better. If they can get the certificates out today, it would be best."

Chapter Seven.

"Hi, Mom?" Courtney said brightly.

"Hi, Courtney," Abigail Trays said. "How are you enjoying the Keys?"

"Uhm . . . really enjoying them," Courtney said. "In fact, Pam and I are going to stay down here for a while longer. If that's okay."

"You're an adult now, Courtney," her mother said sadly. "You can do whatever you want. Are you okay for money?"

"Yeah, we're . . . fine," Courtney said.

"What's wrong?" Abigail asked. "And don't say 'nothing.'"

"I need a favor," Courtney admitted. "And I don't want you to freak. Or Dad. And I can really see Dad freaking."

"What's wrong?" her mother asked. "You are okay?"

"I'm fine," Courtney said, shaking her head from side to side. "It's just . . . I need a favor. Uhm . . . Pam and I met this really nice guy down here. And . . . we want to go to the Bahamas with him on his boat . .

." she said, pausing and wincing. "He really is a nice guy, Mom. And he's really into making sure we feel safe about it. We went out fishing yesterday for dolphin, the fish not the other, mahi-mahi . . ."

"I know what dolphin is, dear," her mother said tightly. "I'm just having a problem with my little baby meeting some guy with a boat . . . what kind of boat?"

"Well, more of a yacht," Courtney said. "He's a SEAL who's retired and made money selling what he calls widgets to the military. Now he lives down on the boat. Honestly, Mom, he hardly even tried to pick us up. Just asked if we wanted to go fishing and said to give him a call. But . . . it's a really nice boat and he's a nice guy and I've never been to the Bahamas . . ."

"Courtney," her mother said, sighing. "Yes, okay. But . . . yes, you're a grown-up young lady and can make your own decisions but . . . how old is he?"

"Thirty something," Courtney said tightly. "I know that's kind of old, but he's in . . ." She paused and sighed. "Reallyincredibleshape, even with all his . . . anyway, he's a really nice guy, Mom. And he told us we could stay as long as we liked, as long as we left on time to go back to school."

"Sounds like he's got the best of both worlds," Abigail said. "He gets fun and then when the summer's over . . ."

"I guess, maybe," Courtney said. "But it doesn't feel like that. I think he really cares, but he said he has some, complicated commitment issues, too. And I've learned that when he uses the word 'complicated'

to be very careful where I tread."

"That sounds ominous," Abigail said. "Honey, are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Courtney said definitely. "It's not going to interfere with school and I'm having . . . lots of fun. I really want to do this. Some kids get to go to Europe for the summer. You know I couldn't do that. I'd like toatleastget to the Bahamas. Please, Mom?"

"I think you don't know what you're getting yourself into," Abigail said carefully. "But youarean adult.

But, honey . . . be careful, okay?" She paused for a time and Courtney wasn't sure what she wanted to say.

"Mom," Courtney said. "Mike's all over about safety with us. He's . . . he really wants to make sure we're not only safe, we feel safe. And he's . . ." She stopped and sighed. "There's things I'd like to talk about, but you're my mother. I don't think you'd understand."

"You might be surprised, dear," Abigail said gently.

"If youdounderstand, I don't want to know," Courtney said, sighing, then paused. "Mom, have you ever heard the . . . term I guess: scene."

There was a very long pause.

"Yes," Abigail said calmly.

"Oh," Courtney replied, her eyes widening.

"Is he a top or a bottom?" Abigail asked.

"Awhat?" Courtney asked.

"Is he a dominant or a submissive, then?" her mother asked.

"Mom!"

"Dear, do you know what a spreader bar is?"

"Mom!" Courtney gasped. "No. And I don't want to know if you do!"

"You know those rosewood planter hangers in your father's and my bedroom?"

"Mother!"

"Now I'm particularly worried, Courtney," Abigail said firmly. "Because I knowexactlyhow badly this can go. I don't think you have any idea . . ."

"Mike . . . talked about that a little," Courtney said. "About . . . only doing . . . that behind the bedroom door. But he also said something about . . . sometimes it's a bit hard to figure out where the bedroom door is."

"That's simple," Abigail said. "You simply don't do anything in such a way as mundanes are aware. But he sounds like he kind of has his head on his shoulders. However, safetyisimportant, I don't think you realize how important. I've had a good friend die because her dom didn't get a gag off in time. And . . .

many people who get far into the sceneneverhave a normal life. It's a form of arrested development and I'm not sure if it's a chicken or egg situation, whether they weren't ever going to get beyond that stage or if getting too far into the scene caused it. I don't want that happening to you, Courtney, you have too much potential. And what you're doing, really, is called boat bunnying. Buying your way to a vacation on your back-"

"Mike invited us before we'd . . . done anything," Courtney said. "He said he wouldn't kick us out of bed but there were no strings. I don't think there are any even now. I think I could say 'I'd like to just go along for the ride' and it would be fine. But . . . I can't believe I'm having this conversation with mymother !".

"I don't think you know what truly good is, dear," Abigail said, trying to get through to her.

"I know Pam came at least three times last night," Courtney said. "And I don't know whether to count this morning as one, two or one continuous amazing climax, Mother, if you want me to be blunt."

"Oh," Abigail said. "Uhm . . . What was his name again?"

"Mother!"

"Well, your father and I do swing," Abigail said.

"Mother!"

"And, I suppose I'm probably too old for him, but some guys do enjoy mother-daughter action . . ."

"Mother!"