Part 28 (1/2)
”Yeah,” Courtney said, looking over at Pam a bit shamefacedly. ”But I . . . sort of enjoyed it. Idon'twant to lick Pam, though. Ever.”
”You won't have to, then,” Mike said, nodding. ”A bit of s.e.x play with the same s.e.x is not the same thing as being h.o.m.os.e.xual, especially when you're in a threesome like we are. Now, if there were two guys and one girl, it would be different. The s.e.xual wiring is a bit different, for one thing. While women are sensual in various places, most guys are just sensual in their p.e.n.i.s. Two guys and one female, it's the two males, generally, working on the woman . . .”
”Now that has a certain . . . something,” Pam said, grinning.
”In a way that was what was going on,” Mike pointed out. ”You were, each, helping me to bring pleasure to the other. Maybe you'll take it further, between you two. I know several girls who take the position of 'girls for comfort, boys for pleasure.' It doesn't make you a lesbian.” He paused and grinned.
”Okay, maybe a touch bi.”
”You areevil,” Pam said.
”The very devil,” Mike admitted. ”And the one who has to keep his head about him, despite your lovely nipple staring me in the face. We need to finishreallyputting on sunscreen and then get ready to fish.
We're just lucky we didn't get a hit while we were in play; it would have really ruined the mood.”
Courtney was sitting on the port fighting chair, sipping a Fosters, when the nearest line unclipped from the kite and began screaming out.
”That's not sail,” Mike said, hooking the harness on her naked body. ”Probably wahoo.”
”Why's it called wahoo?” Courtney asked, picking up the line and settling it in her holder.
”When I hit the drag, give it a good yank,” Mike said. ”Then hang the h.e.l.l on.”
When the hook hit the wahoo, it took off like a rocket in a three-hundred-yard run, the line screaming out of the reel.
”Waaaaaahoo!” Courtney screamed, fighting the bucking rod.
”Now you know,” Mike said, grinning ear to ear.
Wahoo weren't sustained fighters, and lighter than most sail, so in twenty minutes it was...o...b..ard and pictures taken. They were, however, good eating, and it went in the cooler. The fight hadn't even disturbed the other kites, so Mike got the whole line rerigged pretty quick.
”Mike, I gotta know,” Courtney said. ”What's in the Bluebeard Room?”
”Get used to disappointment,” Mike said, chuckling. ”Okay, I'll tell you. I have locks of hair from each of my conquests, with date and time, up on the walls. It's a little bizarre, so I stopped showing them off and now I keep it locked.”
”That I can almost believe,” Pam said. ”Are we going to do a scene tonight?”
”How do you feel about it?” Mike asked.
”Nervous as a virgin,” Pam admitted. ”Eager as one, too. I'll admit, I really,reallyenjoyed the scene the other night. And, okay, what we did this morning.”
”I've got one problem with it,” Courtney said, frowning. ”I hate to be petty, but you've had more . . .in time with Mike than I have.”
”Pam, do you mind if we adjust that a bit, tonight?” he asked. ”It might mean you get a bit shortchanged.”
”I can handle that,” Pam said.
Mike turned to a control and hit a series of keys, and steel guitar started to ring from the speakers.
”What is that?” Courtney asked.
”A one-hit wonder from the '70s,” Mike said. ”It's off an MP3 collection from my CDs. This piece is called 'Thunder Island' by Jay Ferguson. There's probably a bunch of stuff you won't recognize.
Generational thing, and I'm also into Goth and industrial. On the other hand, there's also Pink, Enya, Evanescence, stuff like that. I like a lot of modern music.” He looked up as one of the lines dropped loose then nodded. ”Fish on. Pam's side.”
Pam got up and put on the harness and lifted the rod, stepping back and then hitting the drag.
”Holy cow!” she shouted as the fish began its initial run. Suddenly the sail burst out of the water and tail-walked from port to starboard, shaking its head.
”Keep pressure on it,” Mike warned. ”Otherwise it will throw the hook.”
”It'sstrong,” Pam yelled.
”That's what the harness is for,” Mike said. ”Let your back do the work.”
He got the other lines reeling in with electric motors and halfway back one of them hit.
”d.a.m.n,” he said. ”Courtney, get it. Try not to cross the lines.”
Fortunately, the two sails stayed well apart and both girls had one h.e.l.l of a fight on their hands. Pam got hers in in about thirty minutes, bringing it into the transom where Mike pulled it up onto the deck.
”I'd like to make sure we can release it,” Mike said. ”Can you get the camera and get down here?”
They took pictures of Pam with her sail in the flooded flush deck and then Mike fed it some raw wash and a ballyhoo and got it back running with a tap on the tail.
By that time Courtney had brought hers alongside and he landed that one and got pictures. All in all it took about an hour to get the two sails to the boat and off, and by that time both girls were elated and exhausted.
Mike got the lines back up and soon after there was a dolphin on board. He climbed up to the tuna tower and noticed that, by luck as much as anything, the kites were dropping by a weed line. Shortly after the dolphin, Courtney hooked up to another tail walker-her first one hadn't left the water-and she fought it for about three minutes after its first run and then the line went, mostly, slack.
”Probably threw the hook,” Mike said, letting the kites back out. ”Put it on the winch and let that reel the line in.”
When the line came alongside it was clear the fish hadn't thrown the hook. The sail was gone from just behind the head with a big, crescent, bite mark just past its gills.
”Oh, wow,” Courtney said, looking at the head as Mike pulled it over the side.
”Want a picture of this?” Mike asked, grinning and unhooking the head.
”Yeah,” Courtney said. ”And you want us to goswimmingin this water?”
”Any time you enter the water you're in the food chain,” Mike said. ”But snorkelers and divers hardly ever get unprovoked attacks. It's safer than driving in Springfield.”
”Maybe,” Courtney said. ”But if you're in a wreck, they don't eat you.”
They landed a couple more sail and dolphin by noon, then the run pretty much ended.
”Let's get lunch,” Mike said, reeling in the lines. ”They probably won't start hitting again until this evening.”