The Good Life (34 page)

“We might as well be,” she countered. “That little thing you're wearing hardly counts.”

“I'll remember that,” he said, laughing, then added, “If I act sort of aloof with you in front of Billy, it's because I don't want him to get the idea that there's anything going on between us. He might think I'm standing in the way of your fortune.”

She smiled at him with her teasing eyes. “He won't know if I'd let you until I find one,” she pointed out.

“That's it. Just try to pretend that you haven't lost your mind for me. He doesn't think much more of me as a suitor than your mother does.”

“Aren't they absurd? You'd suppose I don't have sense enough to make up my mind for myself. We'll keep them in the dark no matter what happens. It's more fun like that. At least Daddy wouldn't worry about who you are socially. If he thinks somebody is trying to be snobby, he drops them.”

“Why should anybody be snobby with him?” Perry asked cautiously, thinking of Timmy's mother.

“Oh, we're not society. You know — old family and Social Register and all that. There's even some Jewish somewhere, but Mummy would never admit it. She wants all the high-society stuff. She wants me to be a debutante and come out in a year or so. I'm not going to. I know those girls, Brenda Frazier and that lot. Did you go to her party? I wouldn't have either. They're all cats. Monique says it's ridiculous for Americans to have social pretensions, and I agree. Being a duchess might be nice. What's fun about the Social Register?” she rhetorically asked with disdain. “You're not in it, are you?”

“God, no.” Perry laughed at the idea. “I'd give anything for you to be in New York with me.”

“Yes. That's what I want. Do something. I know you could arrange it. Make Daddy let me come. He might not want you to marry me, but that's because of Mummy. He's afraid of her. He likes you. That's obvious. He likes you more than anybody I've met with him. I'm not surprised. He should.”

“He's a good friend. We won't upset him if we're a little careful. He doesn't want to meddle. Are we dry enough? I'm ready to eat everything on board.”

“It's contagious. I'll run wash the salt off.”

“Me too, but you go ahead. I'll let him see that I'm not waylaying you in your cabin.”

He watched her cross the deck with her long stride, waving to Billy as she went. He was going to have her. She didn't have to say she wanted him; he could feel it in everything she said and did. They had gone beyond hints and veiled suggestions. She knew what they were talking about. They were going to make love at the first opportunity. He was amazed that she was so ready for it, but he would probably understand it better when he knew more about her.

He retrieved his unfinished beer and wandered over to Billy. “Should I dress for lunch?” he asked.

“Good heavens, no. You're very handsome as you are. I daresay Bet thinks so too.” He smiled pointedly. “We all seem to be in good form this morning. A happy little family. I've written my first report to Arlene. I said the young people have met and haven't run away together yet. How do you like yachting?”

“It's a must. I don't know where you buy them, but I'm definitely going to have one.”

“Of course you are. As soon as you find a rich wife.”

“I'm disappointed. I thought you'd rush out and get me one.”

They chatted amiably about nothing in particular. Emile brought them more drinks. Bet returned, looking adorable in smart beach pajamas with red and blue and black flowers splashed on a white background. Not exactly what he would have chosen for a ramble in the woods, but sitting on the deck of a yacht, she was the most glamorous creature he had ever lusted after.

“Goodness,” he exclaimed. “I don't have anything to match that.”

“Oh, you,” she shrugged. “You needn't worry about having the latest thing in fashionable beach attire. You'll do as you are.”

“Not quite. Less salt would help. My turn.”

He ran below and had a quick shower, then liberally splashed himself with cologne, tinglingly conscious of preparing himself for her. His cock hadn't settled down after her attentions. He gave it a few practiced strokes and watched it lift majestically. Would she or wouldn't she? The thought that she might be shocked by him after all helped him get into dry trunks.

He returned for a lavish lunch at the table on deck, with lobster mayonnaise featured among a variety of succulent dishes. “Is it the same cook as last year, Daddy?” Bet asked.

“Yes. He's very good.”

“I remember. The mayonnaise deserves to be renamed. It's nothing to do with the stuff people buy in jars.”

They discussed the wine with scholarly appreciation, and Perry listened attentively, determined in time to match her knowledge. The balmy air was pungent with spicy scents — thyme, lavender, pine, and the elusive smell of sunbaked land and the sea. The gentle motion that rocked them contained a hint of adventure.

“We should do this regularly, don't you think?” Billy said over coffee afterward.

“I love it,” Bet agreed enthusiastically. “Such sinful luxury. Perry's going to take me for a row.”

“Don't get lost,” Billy warned. “I look forward to an uneventful summer. It's making me quite sleepy. We'll go back about 5, shall we? Don't forget, we have our glamour queen coming, and a few others. I'll see you in port if not before.” He made his cheery departure.

“Ready?” Perry asked, not daring to look her in the eye for fear of scaring her off.

“I'm in your hands.”

She stood and stepped out of her pajamas. She was wearing a white one-piece suit under them. He wanted to throw his arms around her and take her before she could change her mind. Could he have misunderstood? Would she be indignant if he assumed they were going to be lovers?

He tore his eyes from her and went to the stern and untied the dinghy, his hands clumsy with excitement. He drew it in on the land side and pulled it forward to where she was waiting. It moved in the water as lightly as a shell. The oars were lying in the bottom. He handed her the line.

“Don't let go till I'm in,” he said with a grin. “We're having an adventure. I'll help you down.”

He climbed over the rail and gripped it, then lowered himself. He felt the dinghy under him and let go. The little boat skidded away, and he was almost pitched overboard. He steadied himself and found a precarious equilibrium. He grabbed the yacht's gunwale and pulled himself around until the dinghy was lying straight against the yacht.

He looked up at Bet and laughed. “Do I look as silly as I feel? I'm ready for you now — I hope. Be thankful our lives aren't at stake. Okay. Throw the line down. Come down backward. I'm here to keep you going in the right direction. There. Hold on to me. You're doing fine. Now.”

She dropped the remaining few inches to her feet. They staggered drunkenly against each other. The little boat seemed to zoom off in every direction at once. He held her tight, trapping her arm against him. They took peculiar little shuffling steps to find their balance. He was too busy staying on his feet to worry about his erection. It seemed to be all over the place, coming in contact with some new, unexpected part of her, a fact of life she couldn't avoid becoming familiar with. He glanced around and saw that they were still only a yard from the yacht.

“Try to get to the backseat,” he urged. “I'll let go when you think you can make it.”

“Right.” She straightened and took a faltering step and tripped on an oar. She flung her arms out. A hand landed on his trunks, and she got a grip on the top, with her fingers inside it against his belly. His cock surged up, and her fingertips stirred along it. For a breathless moment he thought he was going to come.

He gripped her wrist to keep her hand there another moment and then let it go as she made a little run for it and fell in a heap on the stern seat. He dropped down hastily onto the seat amidships and lifted the oars into the locks and took a long pull on them. The little boat leaped forward.

He twisted his head around to make sure they were headed more or less where they'd decided the cove might be. His upright cock was outlined in the tight trunks. Her eyes were fixed on it. His kept dropping to her breasts. He couldn't wait to reach land so that his hands would be free for her.

He rowed vigorously and saw the distance between them and the yacht widen with gratifying speed. He peered over his shoulder and saw that the finger of rocks he'd picked out as a promising entrance was about where he wanted it to be, a bit off the bow.

“Can you see anything yet?” he asked.

She lifted her eyes and looked as if she were about to erupt with laughter. “Quite a lot. Not as much as I'd like. I have such fun with you. A little more that way.” She pointed toward his right. He put a little extra strength into the starboard oar. “Yes. Like that.” Her eyes returned to him.

“You said my trunks didn't count,” he reminded her. “Shall I get rid of them? It would be exciting for us to be naked together. Don't worry. You're a minor. I wouldn't do anything unless you say it's all right.”

“I expect you know what you want. You don't think I'm a wicked woman?”

“Making love isn't wicked. Wait till we get to shore.”

“We're almost there. It's just the way I remember.”

He felt the bow grind against sand, and he pulled the oars in beside him. They were in a foot of water.

He couldn't look at her as the moment approached to do what he said he wanted to do. After being tormented by his erection all morning, was he suddenly going to be overcome by shyness? The rich were depraved, he told himself in hopes of gaining courage. The rich went in for orgies. The rich allowed themselves all kinds of liberties.

He hooked his thumbs into the sides of his trunks and worked them down resolutely and peeled them off. He parted his legs, and his cock sprang out and swayed in front of her before expanding into rigid immobility. He looked up at her across it.

Her hands were lifted to her cheeks and pressed flat against them. Her eyes and mouth were round O's of astonishment rather than shock. She looked like a little girl caught at the jam jar, guiltily delighted with herself. He suppressed laughter and prepared for an outcry.

Her hands dropped slowly from her face, and her features recovered their composure. “I've never seen a naked man before,” she said, while her eyes focused on him with wonder. “It's so big.”

“It's sort of the usual,” he said modestly. She seemed to approve.

“Monique says that they're always about five or six inches long. That's more like eight. Even nine, May be.”

“I don't know. I've seen bigger ones.”

“You've seen them when they're like that?”

“Well, sure. Guys have fun together too, you know.”

“Oh, I know that. Monique's brother is a poof. That's what the English call boys who prefer each other. He won't tell her what they do, but we've guessed things. Lots of people have boyfriends. I think May be even Daddy has had a few. I'll have to write her that she's wrong about the size.”

“You're going to write her about my cock?”

“Is that what you call it? We've heard different words for it. We tell each other everything we find out about sex. Your cock is rather important now. We have a bet about which one of us will get a man first. I don't see how she could win. She'll expect to hear a full description of your cock.”

“Is that what you're doing — trying to win a bet?”

“Well, it's the first time for me. It had to be somebody I really wanted to do it with. I wouldn't have let it be just anybody, even for the bet.”

“That's nice to know.” He lifted himself to his feet, careful not to displace his weight suddenly. Standing in front of her outdoors, he felt sublimely naked. He managed the few steps to her without mishap. She lifted her hands to his cock and ran them lightly along it.

“It is big. Of course I could see that, but it keeps changing all the time. Does it get any bigger?”

“No. You make it as big as it can get. You're beautiful.”

“It's the way I want it to be always.” She leaned forward and touched it with her lips. It bobbed up to her. She parted her lips and ran her tongue along it to the end. She opened her mouth and drew it in. His hips bucked uncontrollably. She sucked on it while he braced himself to forestall an accident.

She drew back and looked up at him triumphantly. “Monique says boys like that. Do you?”

“God, yes. Do you like doing it?”

“I didn't know it would feel so wonderful.” She ran her hands along it. “Amazing. I've been dying to feel it all over. It's such a relief to know that it feels so good. Of course, I'll have to have other boys before I know if they're all so lovely. Monique says I can make a boy come like that if I don't have my gadget.”

“Your what?”

“It's called a diaphragm. She insisted I couldn't go away to the south of France without one. She took me to a doctor in Geneva and had me fitted. It's so I won't have a baby.”

“That's wonderful. I've been waiting to ask about that.” He dropped down and squatted in front of her. She slid her hands up over him and let them linger on the swell of his chest.

“Are you going to be inside me?” she asked.

“I don't see how you can win your bet otherwise.”

“I don't care anymore about the bet. I want you there. I've been praying it was going to be you, but none of my friends can tell me what it's like. Most of us have lost that thing — it's called a hymen — but we're all virgins just the same. You lose it exercising. Have you had lots of girls?”

“A few.”

“Good. You know how. You'll tell me if I don't do it right.”