Older Woman-Younger Man Romance in the Exotic Caribbean. It's the summer after 18-year-old Josh's high school graduation, and he and a group of friends are exploring the Caribbean, sailing in fine-style on a private luxury yacht from one island paradise to another. So how could life possibly get any better? The trip's chaperon, the divorced mother of one of Josh's friends, has been the subject of his secret erotic fantasies for years. She is on the trip to make sure that everyone behaves. But who's watching the chaperon? Josh is! And as Lady Luck would have it, the chaperon is watching him! Savor a taste of exotic Caribbean heat and soak up some fun in the sun while living the erotic vacation of a life time as Josh and his fantasy prove that out upon the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean, male wet dreams do come true.
EXTRACT
CHAPTER ONE
COINCIDENCES?
Reacting to occasional bumps of turbulence, the stewardess was having
a difficult time working the drink cart down the narrow aisle of the
crowded plane. People were jammed in to either side, as every seat in
every row was occupied, and each time she bent over to serve a
passenger she kept bouncing her pretty little bottom into the shoulder
or arm of the passenger on the other side of the aisle.
She kept repeating, `Excuse me,` and, `Oh, I am sorry,` occasionally
throwing in a well–practiced, if not grim smile, as she attempted to
hide her fluster and concentrate on dispensing the drinks and snacks.
Josh had been eyeing her ever since the movie had ended. She really
was cute in that tight, blue uniform. With her hair done with
retro–styled bangs and these long, thick eyelashes, she reminded him
of an Austin Powers throwback from those long gone days when the
airlines supposedly only hired sexy, young stewardesses. Those girls,
so he had read, were the kind who earned their wings while earning
reputations as sex-vixens of the sky and whose antics filled the pages
of books like: `Coffee, Tea, or Me?` and `Lay Me Lay Over.`
Josh was beginning to really get into fantasizing about what the
stewardess might look like out on one of those nude beaches he'd heard
about and was hoping to visit on this trip. Envisioning her sunning
herself while topless, he was trying to decide upon the color and
shape of her nipples, when he felt a weight press on his shoulder.
Twisting about as best he could as he was confined to the center seat,
Josh saw Mrs. Tate in the window seat to his right had fallen asleep.
Her novel was in her lap, and her head had lolled over onto his
shoulder.
His growing excitement suddenly distracted, Josh forgot all about the
stewardess. He was at a total loss of what to do as she actually
nestled her head right onto his shoulder and let out with this softly
relaxed little sigh. This was just another unexpected turn of events.
As it was, these past few days had been one wild surprise after
another. His high school's graduating class had planned this
celebration trip to the Caribbean since September of last year. And
then, just last weekend, at the big graduation blow out, who would
have guessed one of the kegs of beer would have been somehow tainted?
More than three quarters of his classmates, who were supposed to be on
this trip, were at home sick, rather than winging their way down to
exotic Barbados. With how much he'd drunk at the party, how Josh had
somehow avoided getting at least one cup of bad beer surely had to be
blind luck. His two best friends, who were supposed to be with him on
this trip, hadn't been so lucky. Both were at home right now, sick as
dogs.
This morning, once they'd finally cleared security, they'd found the
airline had screwed up, and their plane wasn't even at the terminal.
By the time they'd gotten their act together the airline had been
forced to split up passengers from the cancelled first flight by
putting some on the next flight, which as it turned out was almost
full. As luck would have it, the majority of their group was going to
have to wait. Here again, Josh was one of the lucky few whose name had
been called from the standby list. When finally boarding, he'd come
down the aisle and found the luck of the draw had favored him with yet
another winning hand, and he was going to be sitting next to, of all
people, the trip's chaperone, Mrs. Tate. This was almost too good to
be true. Mrs. Tate had been a major heart throb of Josh's ever since
he'd first met her back in middle school, when a new friend had
invited him for a Friday night sleep over. From the moment he'd first
seen Casey's mom, he'd been lost. To Josh, she simply was exquisite,
and though in high school, he and Casey had drifted into separate
cliques of friends, Josh's memories and fantasies about Mrs. Tate had
always remained powerful and freshly alive in his imagination.
Here she was with her head on his shoulder. Josh sat very still. The
last thing he was going to do was disturb her. He was going to soak up
every moment. She smelled so incredible, so fresh, so feminine; an
amazing feat considering they were squashed together in this can of
sardines, and the heavyweight taking up so much room in the seat next
to him had obviously never heard of deodorant.
That guy was the last person on his mind right now. He almost didn't
want to breathe lest he disturb her. Outside, through Mrs. Tate's
window, he could see the sun was setting, causing the sky to appear as
if it was blushing with reds, golds, and purples. He was probably
blushing, too, but he couldn't help himself. Giving in, Josh turned
his head ever so gently, and had he been so bold, he could have let
his lips actually touch her soft, blonde hair. It was so incredibly
exciting to have her up close to him like this. In itself, just her
being so near was a major part of his fantasies come true.
He carefully took a deep breath, so as not to disturb her. Breathing
hadn't helped. Josh's heart was pounding, and in a matter of just
these few moments he had grown more aroused than he'd been while
eyeing the stewardess. Maybe it was that there was less air pressure
in the cabin since they were flying at thirty thousand feet. Whatever
it was, he was definitely aware of the extreme intensity in the growth
of his excitement. In fact, he was more stirred up than he could ever
remember.
Josh allowed his gaze to fall, and in watching her, he could see Mrs.
Tate must be dreaming; occasionally her lips moved ever so slightly,
as if she were whispering something. Sneaking a look further down,
Josh succumbed to his baser self, allowing his sight to wander where
they'd dared not all the while he'd been chatting with her before the
movie. Mrs. Tate was wearing a light summery top, which was cropped
low and fashioned so that it appeared as if the two halves were held
together by just a single knot tied below her breasts. White with
yellow polka dots, it had puffy little sleeves just over her
shoulders, and the way she slumped over with her shoulder pressed up
against his, one of her sleeves was crushed up against his arm.
Josh didn't dare lean over. He didn't dare move at all except to
breathe. But he was able to glance down and in, rewarding him with a
truly breathtaking view. He was mesmerized to watch the swell of the
upper curves of her breasts with each slow breath. Mrs. Tate wasn't
what could be called buxom, but actually, he preferred her this way.
Some guys really went nuts for the whole 'bigger is always better'
idea, but he'd always taken to heart the old locker room comeback
that, 'anything over a mouthful's wasted.'
Just thinking of her being a mouthful caused his heart to skip a
beat. Fantasies were one thing, but here he was being able to take his
time and feast his eyes on every luscious detail. Afraid to move his
head any further, Josh had to strain his eyes downward to see. From
his current vantage point, Josh could only imagine Mrs. Tate must be
wearing one of those tiny pushup bras – but that was just a guess. The
way her top's lacy fringe framed her breasts he couldn't see anything
more revealing than the press where her cleavage came together. The
entire tops of her breasts were exposed, and she was so close he could
even count her freckles. Even so, if this was all he was going to get,
he wasn't about to complain.
`Excuse me?` The stewardess was standing in the aisle and glaring
down at him. `Would you like something, sir?`
Panicked, because he knew the stewardess surely had to have caught
him with his eyes in the cookie jar, Josh overreacted, startling Mrs.
Tate and waking her.
Flustered and surely red-faced, he was aware of the erection bulging
in his pants. He didn't dare look down, but instantly drew his own
paperback over to attempt to conceal himself. Stammering and
stuttering, his mouth gone suddenly stone dry, he asked for a ginger
ale, not daring to look up at the stewardess.
Looking straight ahead, yet focusing on nothing, out of the corners
of both eyes, Josh was aware of Mrs. Tate beginning to comport
herself. She sat up and brushed back her hair and straightened her
blouse. Out in the aisle the stewardess went about pouring his drink,
while giving him a feminist scowl. He finally had to glance up to
accept his cup, and in meeting the stewardess's eyes there could be no
doubt from her disapproving glare she'd definitely noticed what he'd
been doing.
For the rest of the flight, Josh was too embarrassed to talk much
with Mrs. Tate. He'd answer her with single syllables while pretending
he preferred to keep his eyes glued to his book. Maybe it was only his
guilty conscience, but it also seemed to him the stewardess was making
a point of passing by frequently, as if keeping a wary eye on him.
At the baggage claim it appeared again as if Lady Luck was again
coming into play. This time though, it seemed to be bad luck. Only
eight of the twenty people in their original group had made standby on
this flight, and they had long ago retrieved their bags. As the others
stood and watched, luggage in hand, Josh and Mrs. Tate were left
standing apart, to either side of the empty carousel, watching it go
'round and 'round. After a while, it became painfully evident no more
luggage would be forthcoming, and Josh and Mrs. Tate had to find their
way to the baggage office to file a claim for their missing
suitcases.
Even this set back wasn't enough to get Josh down. For Josh, it was
incredible to think he actually was here. He had never been out of the
country before, much less to an exotic, tropical island. It was
probably all in his mind, but everything felt different. Leaving the
terminal and stepping outside, there was a rich and heavily verdant
aroma in the night air, which reeked of palm trees and pina coladas.
Immediately after stepping outside Josh was slapped in the face by a
harsh dose of third world reality. Out by the street, he spied a
pitiful beggar, an old woman alone on the sidewalk. She was seated
crossed legged with her back against a wall and held a tattered
Styrofoam cup between her gnarled fingers. With her shock of
silver-gray hair, she was an ancient and wrinkled black woman, blacker
than any other black person he'd ever seen. What was most striking was
that she had dead-white, blind eyes. She wore a shabby cotton dress,
white like her hair, a stark contrast to her midnight skin.
While the others were boarding the bus, Josh felt compelled to do
something. Leaving his place in line he stepped over and took out his
wallet, dropping a bill in her cup.
The beggar woman's dead eyes dropped to the cup. Then she plucked out
the bill. Squeezing it in her fist, she looked back up, looking right
at him, but seemingly looking straight through him. Then she nodded
and cackled, finally saying, `You will be blessed, young man.` Though
she had a lilting Caribbean accent she hissed her S's, drawing them
out as if her breath seeped between her teeth. `You will be blessed in
ways … in ways…` She paused, and when she again spoke her lips drew
apart into a grin. `In ways … you can but only imagine.`
As if mesmerized, Josh was riveted where he stood. Mrs. Tate came up
from behind, surprising him by putting a hand lightly on his shoulder.
She leaned into him offering sweetly, `That's so generous of you,
Josh.`
Starting as he came out of it, he stood back and shrugged. `It's no
big deal, Mrs. Tate. I mean, what's a dollar to me? But I'm sure it's
a lot to her.`
`A dollar?` Mrs. Tate still had her hand on his shoulder. `You'd
better look again.`
Looking at the bill still crumpled in the beggar's withered fingers
he now saw his error. He'd accidentally given the old woman a ten,
though he had been positive he'd seen George Washington's smiling face
on the bill just before he'd dropped it in the cup.
`Oh well,` Josh sighed, tucking his wallet back in his shorts. `I
guess I can only hope wherever she goes to spend it the person she
gives it to tells her it's a ten.`
Mrs. Tate placed her other hand on his shoulder and turned him about,
steering Josh toward the bus. She cast a quick glance back over her
shoulder then said, `For some reason, Josh I don't think you need to
worry about her getting ripped off. I get this funny feeling she's not
the kind someone would try to cheat.`
Once they were on the hotel's shuttle bus everyone was excited. Even
Mrs. Tate, who with her bare midriff exposed between her top and
matching shorts, almost looked as if she could pass for one of the
graduating student body herself. They were all talking, laughing and
cutting up. Their Rasta-looking bus driver had a lilting island
accent, and as they drove up the coast road he flirted shamelessly
with all the girls, including Mrs. Tate, going on at length about some
big jungle party set for the next night.
For Josh it was dreamlike, as it was difficult to believe he really
was here. He'd never been one of the popular students at school. It
wasn't that he didn't have any friends, but he definitely wasn't part
of the in crowd. Maybe it was only that he was usually quiet. More
than one teacher over the years had labeled him a dreamer, but, though
not the prom king, he hadn't been a social outcast. He was usually a
bit overly shy with the opposite sex, but he had gone out with a few
girls. Once, for two whole months in a row he'd dated, Melissa, who'd
once even told him she thought his deep brown eyes were, `Kind of
dreamy.`
One thing Josh knew, even if he was a bit shy, at least he didn't
have to be ashamed about his body. He was athletic, tall and lanky.
He'd earned his letterman's jacket in his junior year, starting at
second base for the varsity baseball team.
Tonight though, he fit right in. It seemed all previous social
barriers were down. Candice, Marisha, Dawn, and Rachel, who had formed
a tight, little clique amongst the cheerleaders at school, were
laughing with him, as if they'd actually been friends these past four
years. Randy and Carlos, jocks from the football team, were
high–fiving with him and wrestling around, acting like they'd always
been best buds.
Throughout the drive up the coast road they continued to grow more
and more raucous. Dark outlines of palm trees flashing by in the night
and glimpses of yellow lights illuminating windows of houses high up
in the hills only seemed to add to the exotic allure. When they
arrived at the hotel at Silver Sands, it was just incredible.
Everybody actually oohed and ahhed when the resort came into view.
Styled like a Spanish hacienda it had palm trees, white stucco walls
and red, tile roofs. A white sand beach was set slightly back between
two jutting outcrops of rock, which came down out of the mountains to
form a private cove.
Everyone was eager to get outside, and Josh found himself waiting in
the rear of the line as the bus came to a stop. When he at last
stepped out of the bus the stars overhead were out by the millions.
Even the stars looked different here, brighter, shinier. After a few
moments he cast his gaze out toward the beach, but being dark, Josh
could only guess whether the water he'd wake up to tomorrow morning
would be either deep blue, or translucent green.
`Okay everybody!` Mrs. Tate, first out of the bus, stood by the door
clapping her hands. `Hey! Listen up!`
The seven new graduates stood across from their chaperone, bunched up
together in the light of the portico, everyone clutching their bag,
except, of course, for Josh and Mrs. Tate.
She put her hands on her hips. `I know everybody's really excited,
right?`
It wasn't lost on Josh that, like the rest of them, she couldn't seem
to suppress her smile.
`But it's late,` she continued. `And I'm sure everyone has to be
pretty well wiped out after the ordeal at the airport this morning,
then the flight.`
Randy grinned his trademark grin. `Hell, I'm not tired.`
`Me neither,` Carlos chimed in.
Candice, as usual spoke for her group, keening out, `Yeah, Mrs. Tate!
We're here! It's time to par-tay!`
This brought on a boisterous round of cheers.
`Look. I know. I know.` Mrs. Tate cocked her head slightly and
lowered her voice, sounding sympathetic as if she were with you rather
than against you. `I know all of you are eighteen, and are just dying
to get the party going. I know the drinking age here is eighteen, so
you're all ready to take full advantage of the bars, but listen to me.
If I let you all go out and you get trashed tonight you're going to
regret it in about...` She twisted her wrist to look at her watch,
`six hours when the sun comes up. I know I'm the chaperone, and it's
my job to be a drag, but listen to me on this one.`
It was as if the air had been let out of everyone. The entire group
of formerly foam-at-the-mouth potential partiers drooped, their bags
dragging on the ground, but Mrs. Tate startled everyone by unveiling
this nefariously wild smile. `Hey!` She shouted out. `I went to
college! You might not guess it to look at me now, but I've done a
thing or two you'd probably be pretty freaked to even imagine. And you
know what?` She leaned forward, casting a glance along the line,
looking each person in eye. `I'm still proud about my college days.
You bet. I've survived more than a couple of hellacious parties in my
day, so believe me, I know where you're coming from. There's plenty of
time.` She had a sudden gleam in her eye as she looked to the girls in
the group. `Some things are better if you slowly build up to them. I
think you girls know what I mean?` She winked and rocked back on her
heels, her hands coming to rest on her hips. `So try to get a little
rest tonight. We've got a lot coming up. There's no hurry. And
remember too, this place is all inclusive, so you don't have to go
crazy and chug everything all at once. As far as activities go, you
can do anything you want.`
`Anything we want?` Candice giggled, poking Marisha in the ribs.
`Sweet!`
Mrs. Tate shook her head. `Within reason.`
One by one, Mrs. Tate began touching each finger of her left hand,
peeling them back one by one with her right as she ticked off some of
the activities they had waiting for them. `There's parasailing, jet
skis, boogie boarding, snorkeling, kite boarding, surfing, sea
kayaking, and of course, checking out the town and shopping, just to
name a few of the possibilities for tomorrow. We'll need to meet up
with the others, if they ever get here. Tomorrow morning we'll need to
sign up at the tour desk for activities, and we can find out about
stuff like that party the bus driver was talking about. Remember we're
going to be in Barbados for two days and two nights. We can do a lot
in that time. Later, we're getting on that big yacht and sailing off
for Martinique, Dominica, Antigua, St. Maartens, St. Thomas, and
finally Santa Domingo. These two weeks are going to fly by, so don't
start it off by burning yourselves out tonight. Trust me on this
one.`
Josh noticed that though the general attitude of frenzy they'd
experienced on the bus had abated, no one was drooping like they had a
few moments ago. The excitement was back, but more focused and in
control.
Mrs. Tate brought back her easy smile. `Okay, so I tell you what. Go
to your rooms and get unpacked, then we'll all meet at the pool bar in
about fifteen minutes. I'm sure you'd all like to try out the free
booze and the drinking age for about an hour. Sound like a plan?`
`Cool!` Randy spoke up. `The bar in fifteen. I can do that.`
Everyone picked up their bags and rushed into the lobby. It seemed in
no time Josh was in his room, but he had nothing to unpack. At the
reception desk he'd been given a little bag with basics like
toothpaste and a toothbrush, but without his bag his wardrobe options
were looking pretty grim. All he had to his name were the clothes he
was wearing, Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of Reebok
hi–tops. But hey, at least he was here.
Going directly to the bar, Josh was instantly cheered up, forgetting
entirely about his lost suitcase. It was beautiful. The tall palms in
the pool area were lit by colored lights hidden about, and the overall
landscape looked like a natural jungle. There was even a waterfall,
and the bar was half in half out of the pool. It was a total rush for
the first time in his life to step up to the bar and legally order a
drink. If the location and everything else wasn't enough, the fact he
was free to party without having to be paranoid about getting busted
was in itself enough to get him and everyone else totally fired up.
The first drink he ordered was a Hurricane, and with that first sweet
gulp there was no mistaking the bartender wielded a liberal wrist when
it came to pouring out the one hundred fifty-one proof rum. Sitting at
the bar, in a few minutes Josh was joined by Rachel to his left and
Marisha on his right. Both well endowed girls had left their blouses
in their rooms, having changed into skimpy bikini tops. It wasn't lost
on Josh that they continually seemed to be pressing into him as they
laughed at something, or slapped him on the knee, or conveniently left
a hand on his shoulder. Two stools down, Candice and Dawn were draping
themselves on Randy and Carlos as they all seemed to keep getting
louder and friendlier as the rum continued to flow. Even Mrs. Tate,
joined in by taking a shooter when Randy dared her to. It almost
seemed as if she was more one of the party animals instead of their
keeper.
To Josh, this was all a fantasy come to life. Though he was
definitely appreciative of the close attention of the girls to either
side, he kept much of his own attention fixed on Mrs. Tate. Ever since
he'd first met her, just thinking about and being near her made his
heart thump in his chest. After the experience on the airplane,
tonight was definitely no exception.
A while back he'd thought he'd finally figured out the root of his
attraction to her. As a kid, he'd once come across an adult magazine
his dad had mistakenly left out. It was an older issue. The date on
the cover had been from a couple of years before he'd even been born.
Inside, there was a spread of pictures of naked coeds from
universities across the US, and this section was entitled: `Dream
Girls from the Dorm Next Door.` Out of twenty or thirty pictures there
had been one girl who stood out from all the others, almost taking his
breath away.
Josh had appropriated the issue, and luckily his dad never seemed to
have missed it. A few years later, he'd somehow lost the magazine.
Maybe his mother had found it in his closet and confiscated it. He
didn't know. It wasn't there when he looked for it. Though he hadn't
seen the issue in years, the photograph of that one particular coed
remained as fresh as ever in his mind. Her name had been Nicole Lynz.
A lithesome brunette, she had long, silky legs. She'd posed fully
naked, which was rare and daring for back then. Posing by standing and
facing the camera she had one hip cocked back, surprisingly similar to
how he'd seen Mrs. Tate standing by the bus tonight.
In fact, now that he thought about it, seeing Mrs. Tate standing as
she had been actually gave Josh a flash of Déjà vu. He was also struck
by the fact Mrs. Tate didn't look her age.
But the girl from the magazine, with her face in so many ways so much
like Mrs. Tate's, was so feminine and sweet, entirely young and
alluring. There was just something about her. Yet, despite countless
hours of gazing, he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Part of
the effect might have been that she had a glint in her eyes, which
suggested that despite such a sweet, young face, appearances might be
deceiving. Josh had this suspicion that deep down she wasn't so much a
mama's girl, and that she definitely might like to play a little bit
naughty if the opportunity were to arise.
Even after the magazine was lost, just remembering details from that
photograph, Josh's enthusiasm had always been apt to rise. Her
breasts, their shape seemed to cause a craving in him unlike any
others he had ever seen. Again, he couldn't put his finger on it
exactly, though he'd have given anything to actually have had those
breasts come into reality and to have been able to put his fingers on
them. Seeing her brought out an instinctual desire. Her breasts were
like teacups, not tiny, but perfectly suited in size and the fullness
of their curves in relation to the rest of her luscious body. Her
nipples, too, had been perfection in his eyes – not just that their
color matched her lips, but the way they were positioned so they
actually pointed up. Almost causing his mouth to water was just the
idea of what it would be like to actually kiss one.
It wasn't just her breasts, it was her whole body, the entire
package. Her hips, that gentle feminine fullness and the curve and
sway down from her waist. And of course, the piece de resistance, in
how she was turned to reveal an alluring little wedge of finely
trimmed pubic hair tucked so sweetly between her legs. In all, this
image burned into his mind's eye had always been the sharpest
inspiration for servicing his private excitement. Now, as he sat at
the bar nursing his drink and thinking about it, it appeared as if in
Mrs. Tate was a surprise sister in the flesh, to his fantasy Nicole,
but older with strawberry blonde hair instead of brown.
Suddenly, one of the girls bumped him, and Josh came out of it and
was embarrassingly aware he'd been staring. With this abrupt start
back to reality he was jolted by the further realization that Mrs.
Tate had noticed him and was looking back, a curiously pleased
expression on her face.
Panicked, Josh felt the flush rush into his cheeks but couldn't
suddenly avert his eyes. Making real eye contact with her, and knowing
Mrs. Tate had definitely caught him looking at her, Josh was afraid
she'd been able to catch a glimpse into in his eyes and capture a hint
of what he'd been envisioning. He was about to look away when the most
miraculous thing happened. She smiled.
`Hey, Mon!` The bartender interrupted. He'd picked up Josh's empty
glass and was waggling it back and forth. `You want another?`
Josh waved no. The first two had tasted like nothing but rum, but
with this last one he'd hardly noticed the taste of the alcohol
despite having witnessed the bartender giving it a liberal dose from
the bottle. Though with the third drink he'd lost the taste of the rum
he definitely gained the feel of it. He felt fuzzy and distant, and a
pervasive heat had grown up inside.
Rachel was suddenly there, leaning over him to look into his face.
`Hey, Josh,` she slurred, pointing a weakly wavering finger at his
face. `I think you're shit-faced, dude.`
Marisha, the lone black girl who'd made the flight, leaned across
Josh from the other side, draping herself across his shoulder. `Babe,`
she hiccupped, `I think we're all shit faced.` Keeping her breasts
pressed to Josh's arm, and with one hand around his other shoulder she
blinked to the bartender. `What the hell've you been putting in these
drinks? Are you trying to get us drunk?`
The bartender was, of course, black and not much older than his
customers. He wore his hair corded into long dreadlocks, and his white
teeth seemed to shine out of the gloom every time he smiled. Like
their bus driver, he was definitely not shy. During their time at the
bar it had been blatantly obvious he'd been paying extra special
attention to the female patrons and Marisha in particular.
In response to her question he gave off with this infectious laugh,
his eyes growing wide as he leaned across the bar. Keeping his eyes on
Marisha, he crooked his finger, indicating she should move in even
closer. When she did, he gave her an infectious smile to match his
laugh, and his island singsong voice was rich and lyrical. `Oh, my
dear sweet thing, can you think of any better way for a Rasta man like
me to help such a fine looking young lady as yourself get into the
island's partying mood? A little sweet rum, a little soft moonlight, a
strong arm to hold onto while you enjoy a walk on the beach, is there
a better way to enjoy a hot tropical night?`
Even for Josh, who was suddenly realizing just how drunk he'd become,
there wasn't any mistaking the tone of invitation in the bartender's
voice. Josh could almost sense the wheels turning in Marisha's head as
she obviously must have been considering the bartender's implied
offer.
`Okay, everyone!` Mrs. Tate had come up from behind to put her hands
on Marisha's shoulders, pulling her back so she was sitting upright on
her stool. `Drink up! Last call. We need to hit our rooms.`
Josh watched as the thwarted bartender glared back at their
chaperone, but Mrs. Tate was undaunted. She helped the wobbly Marisha
up to her feet. She cast a knowing glance back to the disappointed
bartender and gave him the thumbs up. `Ya mon.` She imitated his
accent. `Party on, dude.`
Once back in his room Josh was greeted by a cool surprise. His
suitcase was on his bed, along with a note of apology from the
airline. He was pretty wobbly as he zipped it open, and it took him a
long few moments to try to make sense of what he saw. All these
suitcases these days looked pretty much alike. Like a million others,
his was just a black rectangle with wheels.
The outside of the bag may have looked like his, the contents
definitely weren't what he had packed. On top, below the little
security card informing the owner the contents had been inspected by
the Federal Transportation Authority, there was a bikini bathing suit
and what looked like blouses and skirts below. He really was taken
aback, not knowing what to do. In fact, he looked around the room,
left and right, but he was all alone. Hesitantly, he reached out with
a finger, touching the bikini top. Almost instantly, Josh drew back
his hand and again looked around, more embarrassed than confused.
Suddenly he had an idea. Maybe there was some kind of I.D. in the
suitcase. If he could figure out who it belonged to, that would help
him find his own suitcase. Delving into the contents and laying out
items on his bed, Josh couldn't help but recognize the translucent
side pocket holding toiletries. When he unzipped it and pulled out a
package, he was chagrined to find what he'd grabbed were birth control
pills with a pharmacy label which read: Mrs. Nancy N Tate.
Josh was suddenly washed through with such a sense of embarrassment,
but there was an unmistakable thrill, too. Hesitantly at first, he
checked and saw the prescription wasn't new. Some of the pills were
missing. Tossing it back in the toiletry pocket, he zipped it up, not
wanting to poke around any further. It was then that he saw it, and he
couldn't help but reach over to gingerly, almost reverently, pick it
up between his thumbs and forefingers. It was a lacy little teddy. It
was a light, almost whitish pink color, entirely see-through when he
held it up to the lamp, and the panties clipped to the hanger were a
silky satin. He held up the nightie, his heart pounding in his chest
as his imagination began to run wild. Josh was conjuring a picture in
his imagination. He was envisioning Mrs. Tate and what she would look
like if she were to be coming to him, wearing only a smile and the too
sexy little negligee.
Josh was startled back to reality by a knock at his door. Foggily, he
came back to life, reflexively taking two steps toward the door before
remembering to hurry back and drop the negligee on his bed. In opening
the door, he was blown away to see the object of his fantasy standing
in the doorway.
`Oh, good, you're still up!` Mrs. Tate's sudden enthusiasm faded as
she gave him a momentary perplexed look. `Are you okay? You look like
you've seen a ghost?`
Josh blinked. `Uh … yes. Sure. Yeah, I'm … okay.` He finally tried a
grin, but it came off as weak. `I guess I had a little too much rum.`
Mrs. Tate stepped slightly to the side as she scooted a black
suitcase around into view. `Well, I guess it's your lucky night. The
airline found your bag, Josh, but they screwed up again and had it
sent to my room.`
Even as surprised and flustered as he was, he could sense an unease
on her part.
`I really am sorry.` Her eyes fell as she gripped the bag's handle,
obviously embarrassed about something. `I have a confession. At first
I thought it was my bag.` She spoke slowly, keeping her gaze fixed
down and upon the suitcase. Finally she looked up and blurted out, `So
I opened it.` Again, she cast her eyes down at the floor, but after a
long moment, she brought her gaze back to his. `So you're a boxer
shorts kind of guy?` She couldn't control the spread of her grin as
she added, `I'd always imagined you as a briefs man.`
Struck dumb, Josh stood there, the only thing his addled mind could
seize upon was the thought, `She imagined me?`
`Anyway,` Mrs. Tate dropped her smile. `I don't think the idiots have
found my bag yet, but though I know it's late I thought I'd go ahead
and run the risk of coming to your room to give you yours.` She put
her hands on her hips. `I don't know what I'm going to do about mine.
I guess I'll have to go shopping in town tomorrow.` Reaching up, she
attracted his eyes as she pinched the little fluffy sleeves of her top
with the thumb and forefinger of each hand. `I can't wear just this
for the whole trip.`
`Oh … yeah … right,` Josh stammered. `Yeah … well … you know … Mrs.
Tate … I think they got both our suitcases messed up.` He was well
aware of the powerful crimson flush spreading up his cheeks and
lighting up his ears as he confessed. `I think I might have made the
same mistake as you did. I found a suitcase in my room when I got in
from the bar, and I opened it a little, and I think maybe it's
yours.`
She cocked her head curiously. `Really?`
`Yeah, it's over there on my bed.` He stepped back to allow her a
view into his room.
Leaving his suitcase where it stood she walked toward his bed,
momentarily looking at what was spread out on the bedspread. She
appeared a bit stunned when she turned her gaze back to him. `I see
you weren't kidding when you said you opened it a little.`
`I really am sorry.` He was so beside himself with panic, Josh didn't
feel the least bit drunk any more. Amazing even himself, Josh managed
to come up with a reasonable excuse for having rummaged through her
belongings. `I had no idea whose it was, Mrs. Tate. Like you, I opened
it up thinking it was mine. Then, when I realized it wasn't my stuff I
thought there might be some kind of identification or something. I
wasn't poking around in your things. Really!`
She picked up her negligee from his bed, holding it out before her
with her arms outstretched as she gave it a once over. `Well, I guess,
that makes us even.` She looked to him and her smile came back. `Now I
know you're a boxers kind of guy, and you know I like to sleep in a
little teddy.`
Josh swallowed dryly. Just hearing her say, `sleep in a little
teddy,` was a jolt of adrenaline to his heart. He couldn't believe his
eyes as she actually held the sheer little thing to her with one hand
and looked him in the eye as she passed the other hand down the front
of her body, pressing the teddy to her. `It is just beautiful though,
isn't it?` She spoke wistfully, as if maybe she was talking to
herself. `I just love the feel of the sheer silk against my body. I
know it may be an overly personal little confession, but of all my
lingerie this piece is my favorite. It's one of the few things my
ex-husband ever gave me that I still keep around.`
Josh was genuinely surprised. `You're divorced?`
Twisting back and forth slightly, Mrs. Tate was still holding the
nightie to herself. `Yes, over a year now. That's right. I keep
forgetting I haven't seen much of you for a while, Josh. For some
reason seeing you at the airport this morning was like meeting you all
over again.`
She really looked at him now, even stepping back slightly as she
dropped her eyes to his feet then slowly lifted her gaze back up to
meet him eye to eye. `You really are all grown up, Josh. I hope you
won't take it wrong when I say you've become quite a handsome young
man. You know, it's weird.` She squinted slightly as it was apparent
she was thinking out loud. `This morning, when I first saw you at the
airport it's like I realized something. It's as if I suddenly realized
I must have always been thinking about you somewhere in the back of my
mind, even though I haven't seen you in ages. It's like you remind me
of someone, maybe a guy I knew when I was in college. I don't know.
Isn't that weird?`
Josh gave her a weak smile. Having Mrs. Tate in his room and with her
holding the nightie up to her body was almost enough to push him
beyond the capacity for rational thought. As it was, his fertile
imagination was beginning to come vividly alive. The way she looked at
him when she'd told him he was, `all grown up… and a handsome young
man,` had set his heart to throbbing.
There came a long, awkward moment of silence. It was Mrs. Tate who
broke the spell by clearing her throat, stepping over and dropping the
nightie into her bag. Just as suddenly as she'd come back to life,
Mrs. Tate gathered up everything else and stuffed it back in her bag.
When she finally closed the suitcase, the loud zip shattered the heavy
silence which had again grown in the room. when she looked up, Josh
could see she, too, was flushed crimson.
Her suitcase still on his bed, Mrs. Tate finally had to say
something. `Well, I guess it's goodnight then.`
The last thing Josh wanted was to say goodnight, but looking at her
he was suddenly afraid she might be able to tap into his thoughts.
Overreacting, he took a step too far back, actually bracing his body
against the wall. `Sorry about your bag,` he said lamely.
Mrs. Tate shook her head. `Don't worry about it.` She dropped the
suitcase to the floor. With a click, she extended the handle and
walked past him. She didn't look at Josh again until she was in the
hall, then she, doing a quick about face.
`Goodnight…` her voice was, almost breathless. `…Josh.`
`Goodnight…` he echoed dryly. `…Mrs. Tate.`
She started to take a step, but stopped. `I tell you what, Josh. Now
that we know a couple of little intimate secrets about each other, why
don't we become friends? You know, it's not like you're in high school
anymore. So when we're alone, why don't you call me, Nancy?`
It surely had to be his wild imagination, but Josh thought he could
read so much into how she was looking at him. `When we're alone…`
rushed about wildly in his mind. He came back with a slow and
hesitant, `Sure … uh … Nancy.`
`I don't know what you've got planned for tomorrow,` she offered with
more than a bit nervously. `But I've got quite a few things to do in
the morning getting our activities set up, so you probably won't see
me around.` She stopped, and when she resumed it was she who spoke
slowly and hesitantly. `Maybe we could get together in the afternoon?
Even though I've got my suitcase now, I'd still like to go into
Bridgetown. I imagine everyone will probably want to hang out at the
beach all day, and if no one else is going in, I really wouldn't want
to go into town all alone. After what happened to that poor girl who
disappeared in Aruba last summer, as a single woman, I'd feel more
comfortable, you know … if I knew I had a strong guy as my escort.`
Her cheeks were still flushed as she kept her gaze to his. `Could I
presume upon you to come with me, Josh? You know, you could kind of be
my chaperone?` She grinned. `You could keep me out of trouble.`
Josh looked at her dazedly, wondering what she could possibly mean
by, `Keep me out of trouble.` To his own credit, he had the presence
of mind to stammer dryly, `Sure. Okay.`
Holding up her hand, she waggled her fingers in an entirely feminine
little toodaloo. `I'll see you about two-thirty then, down by the pool
bar, okay?`
He stepped up to the door, desperately trying to think of something
he could say or do to get her to stay, but all he could manage was a
mumbled, `Okay … sure, Mrs. Tate.`
She flashed him a cross little pout, then smiled and reached out to
touch the tip of his nose. `Remember what I told you? When we're
alone, you can call me, Nancy.` She left him standing in the doorway
staring at her as she walked off down the corridor, pulling her
suitcase behind her.
After a little while, Josh closed the door, then leaned back against
it, realizing his heart hadn't pounded like this since he'd been at
bat in the divisional playoff, game in the bottom of the ninth, with
two out and the bases loaded. How she'd looked at him when she'd said,
`When we're alone, you can call me Nancy.` Damn! He felt as if his
ears were on fire.
