way. Instead, I told him that I would like to take Kathy to the beach to spend the summer, and I asked if he could possibly send me a little extra to take care of her expenses. Mai was the nicest I had ever known him to be. He told me that he thought it was a wonderful idea and would send along an extra check with Kathy that would be enough to cover both our expenses.
I packed that night and put everything in the car. When I picked up Kathy at the airport, we were on our way to Florida.
Our reunion was highly strained at first. Neither of us said very much of anything. After we turned off the beltway and were 40 miles down the turnpike, I told Kathy I had packed some lunch for us and that there was a thermos of cold tea in the back.
“How's Bob?” she asked me out of the blue when she finished eating and poured both of us a paper cup of iced tea.
“I haven't seen him since you left last September,” I answered quite honestly, welcoming the opportunity to clear the air, “and I can't say that I'm sorry.”
“Was it about me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well… about what I said when I left on the plane that day.” She obviously wanted to talk about it too. “Was that why you broke up?”
“That certainly played a part in it,” I admitted, lighting a cigarette and finding it difficult to concentrate on my driving. “He denied it, of course.”
“Mother… I have a terrible confession to make,” she stated with what seemed genuine feeling, “I lied to you about Bob. He never did it to me. Never.”
“Who am I to believe, Kathy?” I asked her point blank, moving to the right lane so I could drive slower. “I was in love with Bob. And I love you. That's a pretty terrible decision to make.”
“The decision you made means you love me more.” Kathy analyzed with amazing perspective, “If you had loved him more, you wouldn't have kicked him out.”
“Why did you do it, Kathy?” I demanded to know, not about to tell her the details of Bob's departure, “Why did you deliberately tell me you had been having sex relations all summer with Bob?”
“I'm very sorry, mother,” she replied, suddenly wanting to avoid discussion. “It was very mean and very nasty of me. I do things like that sometimes and it bugs Father and Mother Nancy so much. He says I'm a very moody and unpredictable person. I do have problems sometimes. I can't talk with them about it. They wouldn't understand. You're different, Mother. You're young and alive, and you've got boyfriend problems too… you were so wrapped up with Bob last summer… I couldn't ever talk to you. Not like I wanted to.”
“Kathy… Kathy, you poor darling,” I said with a feeling of very deep and sincere affection, putting my arm around her and pulling her close, almost crying, “Kathy… I know why you told me that horrible thing now. You were jealous. Every summer before, we've had so much time alone together. I was never involved with one man… never someone at the house with us all the time.”
“Oh, Mother… Mother I've wanted to talk, to you so much like a close friend… like a girlfriend who's hip and been around and can take care of herself. Will you let me? Will you be my friend, and my Mother too. Oh, Mother, we can have such a blast at the beach together. I can see us walking along together in bikinis and we won't know whether the boys are whistling at you or me. We can double on dates, and…”
I think I must have been the happiest and most relaxed I had been in years. Instead of stopping for the night, we drove straight on through and got to the beach early the next morning. Kathy had slept in the car, of course, and I was very tired. Yet I was so invigorated. I felt so wonderful. We had not talked too much more about the real personal things that were concerning Kathy. But the barriers had been pushed aside. The prospects for a happy time looked very good indeed.
We found a beautiful new motel with private beach and pool, and set up housekeeping for the summer. We had one huge room with sofa beds and a kitchenette, beautifully furnished and air-conditioned. We went grocery shopping that afternoon, and I enjoyed every minute of even the most routine things like that with Kathy. It was wonderful to see how she had matured, knew how to shop and to plan meals. Of course, Kathy had matured in other ways.
She would be fifteen in a week. Her body is fuller and more developed. We wore very close to the same size clothes, and I discovered quite to my surprise that my bras fit her perfectly. We tried on bikinis together the next day at one of the beach stores, and we took exactly the same size. We bought three between us and had a lot of fun arguing over who would wear which and on what day.
Back at the motel, we modeled them together and just had a wonderful time. I marveled at my daughter's striking beauty, her long hair, the darling and lovable face, and her perfect figure. I suppose that in the back of my mind, the many things that had been said before and the many strange ideas implanted in my neurotic head, did trouble me some. But at the time, I felt that my feeling toward Kathy was the truly wonderful emotion that it should be. The problems of the previous summer were forgotten and it was to be a fun time together. And, of course, there would be those serious mother-daughter discussions that she had asked for.
The problem that first confronted me however, was men. We both seemed to be the center of attraction, and the men who were attracted by us were usually too young for me and too old for Kathy. I was not concerned for myself, of course. I adored the attention from younger men that my daughter's presence helped stimulate. The problem was that I was concerned about my 15-year-old daughter running around with men from 20 to 30, and about my own lack of privacy to carry on an affair.
The idea of double-dating had sounded fine when she first mentioned it, but I could hardly “swing” together in the same room with my own daughter and her date.
Sam and Colby were our two favorites of the summer. Sam was 27 and in his last year of medicine, a sandy haired darling from a pretty wealthy family in Massachusetts. His buddy Colby was 29, a good-looking blond who was in the process of getting a divorce and was waiting out a three month's residency requirement in Florida.
As things would happen, Sam attached himself to me, and Colby was absolutely mad about Kathy. I had gone along with her lie about being 18, but I felt decidedly uncomfortable about the situation. To be sure, Colby acted a lot younger, and both he and Sam had plenty of interests besides sex. Yet when two men on the loose meet two girls in bikinis at the beach, things are bound to happen if nature takes its course.
Sam and I would go out dancing and drinking quite frequently, while Colby and Kathy said they were going to a movie or a walk or over to the amusement park. It was on the second night that we split up like this that Sam took me to the motel where he and Cindy shared an apartment.
It was then that I realized for the first time what a relatively inexperienced young man he was.
“What's the matter, darling? Too much to drink?” I asked him as we lay in bed naked and he could not get-an erection.
“No… it's…” he sputtered frustratedly, then blurted, “Hell, I'm just nervous, Denise, that's all. I… I'm not much of a cock hound like… like a lot of guys. This is the first summer I've had off in years. I study all the damn time… flunk a course or two and go to summer school I think… well, Dad would disown me if I didn't become a doctor. But I don't do much of anything but study.”
I was terribly hot. I wanted him to make love with me. His body was so pleasant and nice and young. I began to kiss his chest and his nipples, sucking on them like they were a woman's. I licked his stomach and worked the tip of my tongue in his navel, and then slid it over his belly until I was kissing his testicles and around the base of his organ. I experienced a decided feeling of accomplishment when I could feel it stiffening and rising, and I trailed my tongue up the side and then enveloped it with my lips and went down.
“Denise… Denise, honey… oh hell, honey,” he became wildly enraptured, running his fingers in my hair and moving his hips, “I… I knew you'd do that. I… I don't mean anything bad by it. I just knew… you'd been married and been around a lot. I knew you'd do that. Hell… I beat off twice last night after we were out dancing… and I thought about you doing that.”
“Do you want me to finish you this way?” I stopped long enough to ask, feeling like I was giving lessons or hustling again.
“Would you?” he asked incredibly, “Oh… oh, Denise. Quick! Quick! Do it again… I'm coming!”
I went right back down on him and I realized for the first time, I think, what Cindy was saying about receiving enjoyment from oral sex without being stimulated yourself. The feel and taste of his young penis exploding, the texture of his flesh and the warm flood of his vital liquid gave me a beautiful clean thrill I had not noticed
