Florida Vacation


Be warned – this story is fairly long. I hope it gives you something to read over the holiday.


Mom and Jen were already home when I arrived late from college. I had taken the Greyhound, trying to save money, but traffic had been heavy outside Washington and I arrived late. As soon as I walked through the door they started up. Where had I been? Why was I so late? Didn’t I know we were supposed to be on the road by now?

I grinned and shrugged and said take it easy and took the keys to the SUV off Mom, kissed her on the cheek, kissed my sister on the cheek and said, “Don’t worry. I packed for the trip. I’ve got everything I need and I’m ready to go.”

“Now?” Mom said, surprised.

“You said we need to be on the way. Are you ready or not?”

Mom nodded and we went out to the Jeep and I backed out from the drive and turned right, to the south, which was, I thought, a good omen. It was two weeks into December and in Columbus, Ohio, a light snow was falling and the temperature had been below freezing for weeks. We had a fourteen hour drive ahead of us even if we didn’t stop. It was 4 p.m. on a gray Sunday afternoon and we planned to drive overnight and into the next day, all the way to Pensacola, FLA, where my Mom’s best friend Debbi and her husband Jack and daughter Bella would be waiting for us on their catamaran.

I went to college in Washington, my sister in Baltimore, and even though we were less than an hour apart we only ever saw each other when we came home. That was a little more often than it used to be since Dad died in the Spring of the year before. Neither of us liked to think of Mom sitting at home on her own so we tried to get back every chance we could.

She seemed to be coming out of it now. For a while she did little but stare at the wall. Then came bouts of crying. Six months in she had an unaturally bouyant mood but that was just a rebound, and after nine months she was quiet and withdrawn again. But over the summer she seemed like she was coming to terms with it, and when Jen and I had spoken earlier in the week we both hoped this vacation might be a turning point.

It had been four years since Mom had seen Debbi and Jack. When Dad was alive we used to meet up almost every year. They had been best friends in college, the two girls and two men sharing form rooms, getting together and forming a lifelong bond. We used to go out to visit at least once a year, down to Florida where the heat melted the ice out of our northern bones.

Then Dad got ill, and the illness took a long slow toll on him before the end. None of us had felt much like a vacation. I was the eldest and had gone to college a year before my sister. She was eighteen months younger, but the way our birthdays worked out only a year behind in school. I had been away when Dad died. Jen had been at home, and I knew that had been a tough time on her.

Now, maybe some sun and warmth was going to do us all good.

As I turned onto I-70, which would take us all the way to Louisville where we planned to stop for a late dinner, I said, “Pick some tunes, Mom. You can even choose something for yourself.”

She was sitting in back, but still managed to lean over and punch me on the back of my shoulder.

“Hands off the driver,” I said.

After a couple of minutes she passed a CD over and Jen slipped it into the slot on the dash and a moment later the unmistakable opening rif started and a southern voice said “Turn it up” as Sweet Home Alabama chugged out. I looked across at Jen and she rolled her eyes, but we both liked the song and from the back Mom said, “You two just shut up and let an old woman wallow in nostalgia.”

Up front we both laughed. It was not as if Mom was that old. She had married Dad young, had me when she was barely eighteen, then Jen arrived before she was twenty. Now her next birthday would take her into her forties. That had been the other topic of conversation between Jen and me on the phone: how could we get Mom dating again. Neither of us knew how to raise the subject, and we had batted it between us for twenty minutes without coming up with any answers.

I had tried raising the subject last time I was home, just me, Jen was still in Baltimore but I had managed a long weekend and taken the bus back to Columbus. I had steered the conversation, not very subtly, around to whether she had any men friends yet.

We had been standing at the sink washing our plates after dinner. Mom had taken her soapy hands out of the water and put her arms around me. She stood about five-five to my six-two and her head came somewhere on my chest.

“Why would I want to date, Will?” she muttered against my shirt. “You’re my man now. I don’t need anyone else.”

I could feel the way her breasts flattened against my belly, the stiff edges along the undersides of her bra sticking into me. Her head was turned sideways against my chest, the top of her head under my chin. I could smell the scent of her shampoo and the scent Ataşehir Escort of her and grew suddenly uncomfortable as I felt my cock begin to thicken in my pants. She was hugging me so tight I couldn’t turn to one side or she would know something was up, but I didn’t know if she would be able to feel my response if we stayed this close, so I concentrated on thinking about something else, anything else, and prayed my body didn’t betray me.

It was not as if I had thought about Mom that way before. Well… not often, anyway. She had always been hot, slim and pretty and bright and when teenage hormones kicked in she was the available fantasy figure; but it had always felt kind of wrong, and kind of exactly like a fantasy, something that was never going to happen. I had had the same thoughts about Jen too when she started to blossom, with the same attitude. Nice to look at, bad to touch.

I let Mom pull against me, making no move to disentangle myself and eventually she drew away and looked up at me, her wet hands on my arms leaving my shirtsleeves damp.

I knew she was waiting for a kiss. We kissed a lot: Mom, Jen, me. Even Dad when he had been around, though he would not kiss me, but there were always a plenty of hugs. I knew if Mom glanced down she was bound to see the bulge in the front of my pants so I leaned over and popped a little kiss on her cheek.

She stayed where she was and pouted.

I waited a moment to see if she was joking, then knew she wasn’t so went back down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“Better,” she said, smiling now. “You know you’re not allowed to stop kissing your Mom, however old you get.”

“OK, OK,” I said, picking up the drying cloth.


We stopped just the other side of Louisville for dinner. The sun had gone an hour before and we found a diner off the interstate in Sheperdsville. We were back on the road inside the hour and Jen took over behind the wheel. Mom changed places and sat beside her in front, and I stretched across the back seats and tried to catch some sleep. I didn’t expect to, but after a while listening to the tires on the road everything drifted away and the next thing I knew I was suddenly woken by silence and sat up to see we had pulled into an all night truck stop.

“Wha’s time?” I mumbled.

“Just after one,” Jen whispered. “Mom’s gone to sleep and I’m about to so I need to change places.”

“S’cool,” I said. “Give me a minute to come round. And I need to pee.”

“That’s why I stopped here. I’ve already been.”

I washed my hands over my face and walked across to the diner. The restroom was down the side and locked. I went inside and ordered a black coffee to go and asked for the key. It wasn’t the best restroom I had ever pissed in, but it wasn’t the worst, and the walk over in the cool night air woke me up, and the hot coffee would help as well. I slipped it into the holder between the two front seats and pulled gently back onto the interstate.

“Where are we?” I whispered over my shoulder to Jen who was arranging herself in the back.

“Passed Nashville about an hour back,” she said, her voice as low as mine.

That meant another eight hours driving. We could stop around Montgomery for breakfast and be in Pensacola by ten.

I glanced across at Mom and saw she was smiling. She opened her eyes a little and said, “Did you think I wouldn’t wake up?”

“Sorry, Mom,” I said.

Her smiled widened. “I always wake however quiet you two are. Mom’s instinct, I guess. I’ll go back to sleep now though, if that’s OK.”

“Sleep away,” I said and watched as she wriggled in the seat to ease the kinks from her back and closed her eyes again. I found myself looking down at her legs where her skirt had bunched up and forced my eyes back to the road. Ever since that evening at home I had been looking at Mom differently, and it worried me.

Soon it was just me and the two sleeping women, the darkness slipping past, and the occasional lights of other traffic. It felt good to drive through the night, the only one awake while next to me the two women I loved most in the world slept.

The sky was just starting to gray in the east when I pulled off the interstate and drove into Montgomery and pulled up outside George’s Diner. They had just opened up so the coffee and pancakes were fresh and we took turns to wash up in the restroom before heading on south. This time Mom took the wheel and Jen and I sat in back dozing, every now and then our heads lolling over and cracking together.

As we came off into Pensacola and started to approach the marina Mom gave us a yell and we sat up and tried to push back the cobwebs of sleep. I was feeling kind of nervous, and from the way Jen held herself I think she was too. I couldn’t tell with Mom, never could. It had been a while since I had seen them, a while since I had seen their daughter Bella. We had all grown a lot since then.

Bel was a year younger than Jen, which made her just about turned eighteen over Kadıköy Escort summer. Last time we had seen her she had been fourteen, buck toothed and freckled, with hair that couldn’t decide whether it was red or auburn. She had been a tomboy, and I don’t think I recalled a single time I had seen her in anything other than sweats and dungarees. Sometimes the dungarees had been cut short, but they were still dungarees.

It was just after ten when Mom pulled up in the fenced parking lot next to the marina and killed the engine. We all sat for a moment, letting the end of the journey seep through us.

Then Mom said, “There they are.” She pointed through the windshield and we both leaned forward to look. Two figures jumped down from a small catamaran moored at the end of the dock.

“Aunt Debbi looks exactly the same,” Jen said.

“She’s not really your aunt,” Mom said. “You know that. I think you can both call them Jack and Debbi now, don’t you?”

We knew they were Mom and Dad’s best friends, but until our last visit we had always called then Aunt Debbi and Uncle Jack. It had just been the way it was. The four of them had met in college, Mom and Debbi sharing a dorm room, Jack and Dad doing the same. It had never been mentioned, but I had the impression that Mom and Dad had not been the first couple who get together out of the four of them

Jen was right. Debbi looked as stunning as my sixteen year old hormonal memory recalled, maybe even better. She was taller than Mom and carried a little more weight, but all of it in the right places. I remembered how I had spent most of that last year looking at her breasts, and afterwards I was sure she knew what I had been doing but she had never seemed to mind.

Jack looked both older and better. Last time his dark hair had been thinning. Now he obviously went to the same hairdresser as Bruce Willis and his smooth skull was tanned dark brown. Wrap around shades hid his eyes, and his lean, muscular body moved easily across the parking lot towards us. He was not quite as tall as me, but looked hard, as though carved from some exotic wood.

He worked the boats for most of the year, taking charters out, rich fishermen and their wives wanting to catch shark or barracuda.

I looked at Debbi again. She wore bikini bottoms and a tee shirt that stopped above her navel, and it suddenly washed through me how much I used to get the hots for her. Four years had done little to blunt the edge of her attractiveness. Her hair, unlike her daughter’s, knew what it wanted to be and auburn curls hung long past her shoulders. She had unbelievable breasts, large and mobile, and I always fantasized about what they would look like with nothing covering them. That last visit I had caught her once and found out. I still had no idea if it was deliberate or not, but I had opened the narrow door to the head and she was in there, just stepping out from the shower. She turned to me and I stopped, my mouth dropping. Then I had stammered something and rushed out, my face scarlet.

I came back to the present as Mom opened her door and stepped out, walked quickly across and all three of them formed into a group hug. After a while aunt Debbi looked across to Jen and me and waved us over and we got out and went to the three of them. Jack took my hand, his own hard and calloused and I tried the best I could to return the grip he gave me. He pulled me into a tight hug and slapped me on the back.

“You’re all grown up, Billie,” he said.

“We don’t call him that anymore,” Mom said.

“We don’t?” Jack said, incredulous. “Well hell, I’ll never remember that. What do we call you now then?”

“Will,” I said.

“Just Will?”

I nodded. “Just Will.”

“I’m glad you could make it, Will,” Debbi said and pulled me inside her arms. She was taller than Mom by a couple of inches, and those breasts pressed softly against my chest and I smelled sunscreen and sweat on her. Her body felt warm and smooth and I let her hug me for a little longer than was proper, enjoying the experience.

Meanwhile Jack was giving Jen the works, and then Debbi repeated the greeting.

“Is Bella with you?” Mom asked Debbi.

“Gone into town for some late provisions. She’ll be back before long. Come on, let’s get your stuff stowed away, we want to head out before noon if we can.”

Jack and I walked back to the parking lot to the Jeep and I opened it with the remote. Jack swung the back door open and looked at the small pile of luggage we had brought.

“Traveling light, I see.”

“I guess we all figured, you know, Florida, a boat, the sea – we won’t need much.”

Jack grinned. He looked up at movement on the far side of the parking lot. A tall, willowy girl was running with high steps towards us, long blonde hair bouncing behind her. Just behind was an older man on a bike. I watched the girl, enchanted at the way her slim legs moved, her body swaying as she ran. The way she moved was incredible.

“Nice, huh?” Jack said, Bostancı Escort and I realized I had been staring.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, she gets everyone like that. Out of bounds though.”

I looked at him. “How come? Too young?”

He shook his head. “She’s eighteen, just. But she’s also the daughter of the Chief of Police. And that guy is her teacher. Thompson, don’t know his first name. She’s Natalie Adams – and man can she run. The guy teaches at our High School and trains the track team in his own time. We do pretty good for a small town.”

The girl came close to us. For a moment she turned her head and looked at us both, then continued running. Her skin shone from sweat and I couldn’t imagine running in the heat, but then I was from Ohio, and she was probably used to this. The man on the bike also went past but he was looking at the girl and not us.

“Wow,” I said, watching the way her ass moved inside her tight running shorts.

“Put your tongue back in, Billie, and let’s get these bags stowed.”

Jack and I carried the bags from the car and Mom went back over and fussed around making sure it was all locked up and there was nothing in sight.

“New boat, Uncle Jack?” I asked.

“New to me,” he said. “And drop the aunt and uncle now, Billy.”

“Only if you remember to call me Will, Uncle Jack,” I said.

He laughed. “Fuck kid, that’s gonna take some remembering.”

Jack had never toned down his language around us. It was one of the things we loved about him, his refusal to compromise. He and Debbi had been like a force of nature to Jen and I, something almost supernatural in their ease with themselves.

I felt the catamaran rock slightly as I stepped up, but the wide twin hulls formed a stable platform, moving far less than a traditional yacht would.

“How big, un – sorry. How big is she, Jack?”

“Only 34, but she’s well laid out. I’m afraid you’re gonna be sleeping up top or in the galley though. I’ll talk to Sam about how she wants to arrange her and Jen. They can bunk up together in the other double, or Jen might want to go in with Bel. You’ll be OK up top, Billy?”

“Sure,” I said, not bothering to correct him. He’d get it right or not.

“We’ll dump this stuff in the galley for now until we decide where everyone’s gonna be sleeping. I guess you three won’t feel up to doing much until you’ve caught up on some sleep.”

As it happened I was feeling pretty good. I had dozed in the back of the Jeep, and the excitement of the catamaran, the sun, the warm air and being back with Jack and his gorgeous wife had driven all thought of exhaustion from me.

As we went back out from the galley into the cockpit I looked up at the mast. The cat was rigged with a large mainsail and a jib almost as big. Both sails were now neatly furled. An array of navigation equipment and echo sounders was arranged in front of the wheel.

There was a light wind coming up from the south east, ruffling the surface of the marina, but out beyond the dock the water in Pensacola sound looked rougher, and I guessed once we sailed into the Gulf the waves would kick up some more. I felt a rush of excitement run down my spine and goose flesh stippled my arms, raising the hairs on them.

Jack consulted his watch and looked up at the sky.

“Where the hell’s that girl?” he said to himself. “I want to get going.”

Jack had never been much for patience.

Mom and Jen had stowed their gear and changed and were lying out on the foredeck, their pale northern skin looking out of place. Mom had lifted her skirt up to the top of her thighs and lay on her back with her eyes closed. Jen was on her front and had stripped to a small black bikini I had never seen before; but then I realized when would I have ever had an opportunity?

“Here she is,” Debbi said and I turned and shaded my eyes, expecting a grown up version of the goofy, geeky girl I had known. At first I saw the figure coming across the parking lot towards us and looked past her trying to find Bella. Then I realized the perfect creature was Bella. Where had the goofball gone to? There was no sign of her at all.

And as she came closer the picture got better and better. She was as tall as her mother, maybe taller, very slim, and she walked with that grace that could only come naturally. Her hair had finally decided it was more red than auburn, but where her mother’s hung long Bella wore it short, almost as short as mine. She wore canvas shorts and a pale blue tank top. She had inherited her mother’s breasts, and maybe even improved on them. From the way they moved I guessed she wore nothing to contain them under the top and they swung gently from side to side as she walked toward us.

I heard a chuckle next to me and Jack said, “You can shut your mouth now, Will.”

I closed it with what I feared might be an audible snap and looked away, blushing.

“No big deal,” Jack said. “Sometimes even I have to look.”

“When did she… how did…” I shook my head, not knowing how to say it to this delicious creature’s father.

“Cost some money though,” Jack said. “The dental work, the hair styling, the clothes. She’s not cheap to run. But she’s worth it.” I head the note of pride in his voice and smiled. Yep, she surely was worth it.

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