On the Beach

I was surprised when Jill answered. "Yeah, what's the big deal? Join us."

Mom's jaw dropped. Dad came out to see what was going on. His jaw didn't drop but he was awfully quiet, not always a good sign.

"What?" mom managed to squeak.

"Join us. It's not like you and daddy don't skinny dip sometimes."

"How..." mom started to ask then closed her mouth. "That's different. Your father and I are married."

"Oh please," Jill retorted and swam toward the other end of the pool as if the argument was already settled.

Inspired by my sister's gumption, I took a gamble. My parents had gone to the same university as I had.

"You guy's never went to Hayward beach when you were at ESU?"

The way mom jumped and they both darted looks at each other answered my question. It was easy enough to see that I came by my spaz genes naturally.

I smiled. "So you know how great the sun and water feel. We're swimming and having a good time. It's not an orgy."

"Have you done this before, Mark?" my dad asked calmly enough.

"Together like this? No. I do hang out at Hayward when I'm at school and I can but not when Bill or Jill have been visiting. I love it." It finally soaked in I would not be going back to school. That part of my life was over. "I'm going to miss it."

My brother shrugged. "Same here, pop, not around Jill or Mark, but sure, I've gone skinny dipping."

Being our guest, Jim realized he was not required to answer.

Jill settled for a giggle. "I guess I'm the virgin here."

That drew a very long look from our dad. Jill blushed, realizing what she'd said.

"I don't know," mom said, shaking her head. "I guess it's okay but give me some time to get my head wrapped around the idea." She turned and went inside the house. Dad looked out over the fence toward the ocean. He glanced to the right. The beach cut back into a shallow inlet on that side. There were no houses to the right. He glanced to the left. I followed his gaze and my throat closed up. The woman I'd seen earlier was standing on the upper deck again.

Dad shaded his eyes, much as I had done earlier.

"Howdy, Muriel. How you been?"

"Fine as frog's hair, Ben and I'll be better after I get around to mixing some martinis. You and Meg come on over in a bit."

"We'll do that, Muriel. Thanks for the invite." He jerked a thumb towards the pool. "Muriel, you okay with a bunch of nudist using your pool?"

"Hell, Ben I might join 'em. Course not. Momma tried to raise me Baptist but it didn't stick. All I ask is to keep it down after midnight. I'm getting to be an old woman. I need my beauty sleep." She turned to leave. "Come on over in an hour or so, bring your better half, honey."

Dad chuckled. "Will do, Muriel."

"You know her?" I asked after I heard her slide the patio door closed.

"Muriel? Of course. Who you think we rent this house from?"

I shrugged. I never considered that before.

"Muriel is a sweetheart but she's a goddamn trip, too," Dad continued. "She's your mom's and my age. She married some old fart and by all accounts took good care of him. When he kicked he left her a dozen or so houses from Duck all the way down to Hilton Head. She could live off that but Muriel is one helluva smart woman. I wouldn't be surprised if she's not doubled what the old man was worth by now. Still, she's the salt of the earth as your grandmother would say. If there's a stuck up bone in her body I've yet to see it. She pays the folks that clean and maintain these house a decent wage, no cash under the table illegals for her, and she helps them with health insurance." He turned toward the house, chuckled, and added, "Besides she makes one helluva good martini."

Once more left alone in the pool, I made a feeble disinterested attempt to start the water fight up again. No one responded, which was fine with me. We ended up resting our arms atop the pool and letting our legs float out in front of us, Jill and I on one side, Bill and Jim on the other. Jill was the first to break the silence.

"Mark, what's this beach you were talking about?"

Jill would be going to ESU in the fall.

"It's on Cross Lake, about a half mile hike through the woods. There's a trail on the east end of the public beach. It is an unofficial clothing optional beach. There's as many locals as University types. It's a nice, quiet, low-key place to chill. The cops don't hassle anyone. It's a live and let live kind of place."

"Sounds cool. How come you never took Bill or me when we visited? Is it a meet-up spot?"

"You mean a hook-up spot? Not even close. It was very G-rated." I shrugged. "I never thought of taking you guys to be honest. It would have seemed weird, although there were whole families there sometimes but usually young parents with little kids, toddlers, you know. Wouldn't you have felt weird if I had offered to take you there?"

"Maybe," she agreed. She left the side of the pool. "I'm going down to the beach. Anyone want to come?" she asked as she climbed the steps out of the pool.

"I'll go," Jim offered, surging away from the wall like he might lose her if he didn't keep up. Bill smirked at me as his friend climbed out of the pool. They pulled on their suits and slipped out the gate in the back fence, heads tilted toward one another, talking too softly to be heard.

"Jim an okay guy?"

Bill nodded. "Absoposimatively," he intoned, sounding like he was ten years old. "He's a solid guy. He doesn't drink too much, doesn't get high too often, doesn't get pissed too often, and when he does he walks away." My brother laughed. "Mom pointed out to me I'd latched on to the person most like you at work."

"Huh?" I felt my face grow warm.

Bill splashed me. "You heard me dipshit. Jim's alright. Mom and dad like him. Jill could do way way worse."

"You hungry?"

Bill nodded.

"Me too. Come on," I told him as I turned around and hoisted myself out of the pool. We dried off. I picked up my stuff after I dressed. When I picked up the bottle of lotion Bill arched his eyebrows and smirked. I shrugged and went inside.

-----

The four of us were playing Mario Kart when mom and dad got back from Muriel's. They were pretty tipsy. I guess she does make a mean martini.

"You're all on your own for supper, kiddos," mom slurred, sashaying across the game room. The lower level was a game room/bar. She opened the patio door and to my immense surprise and a little bit of embarrassment, she slipped her sundress off, followed by her panties and bra and jumped into the pool. All I saw was her butt but that was enough. Bill and I fixed our gaze on the screen. Jill was grinning. Fucking Jim was staring, eyes agog. Dad walked behind us. He paused at the door.

"It appears your mother has had time, and enough gin, to wrap her head around the idea," he drawled. "However, tonight is not family swim night. Y'all go upstairs and watch TV." He turned, paused and added, "and stay off the back deck." He didn't seem all that tipsy to me.

As we rose from the sway backed sofa, dad stuck his head back inside.

"Mark, Muriel wants you to pop over for a few minutes. She wants to ask you something. It might be about a job so don't blow it off."

A job? She probably wanted to ream me out for jerking off in front of her. I tried to dig down for some self-righteous indignation. I had been in my own backyard. She didn't have to watch. I ignored the hoots and hollers as, unlike the others, I turned not toward the TV room but the room Bill and I shared.

I checked my hair. Grabbed a tee shirt that passed the sniff test, and headed next door. I rang the bell, trying to convince myself I wasn't afraid she was pissed.

"It's open. Come on in, sugar." I heard from inside. I wondered if I should have changed into better clothes, on the off chance this was an interview. It was too late now. I pushed open the door and closed it quietly behind me. Mom hated the sound of doors being slammed.

"Out here, sugar, on the deck."

I crossed the living room. Muriel's house was smaller than the one we rented from her. I supposed that made sense. This was where she lived. She didn't need four bedrooms. The French doors were open, the sheer curtains billowing in the wind. The surf rumbled contentedly as the shadows from the houses reached for the waterline.

Muriel was leaning against the railing. Looking out at the ocean. She had a martini glass in one hand and was wearing a cover up. When she turned to smile at me she was silhouetted by the bright light reflecting off the ocean. I could see she wasn't wearing anything under the cover up.

"Are you dating anyone, sugar, anyone serious I mean?" Her voice was soft. She didn't sound the least bit tipsy.

I stumbled over my words, taken off guard by the question. "Uh, no. Why?"

She smiled. "No reason, sugar. You ever had a martini? You are twenty-one aren't you?"

I nodded. "I'm almost twenty-three. No, I've never had a martini."

"Would you like to try one? There's just a teensy bit left in the pitcher."

"Sure. I guess so." I turned toward the door.

"Don't be silly, sugar. You're my guest. I'll get it for you. Relax. Enjoy the view."

She slipped past me. The deck extended the whole length of the house. Both French doors were open. There was plenty of room. Still, her breast brushed my arm as she passed me. It had to be deliberate. Was she coming on to me? What the hell? She was my mom's age. I had to admit she still looked good, damn good in fact but still.

I crossed to the cable railing and rested my hands on the top strand. The breeze was still off the ocean. The air warmed quicker over the beach. Warm air rises and the cooler air over the water rushes in to take its place. After the sun goes down the process reverses. That was one reason waterfront was so desirable. Before electricity and AC, a reliable breeze, especially in this part of the world, was a Godsend. The sound of splashing drew my attention.

I could see into our pool. My mom had her arms around my dad's neck. She was floating, stretched out in front of him on her belly. Her pale butt seemed to glow. I was jerking my eyes away when Muriel joined me.

"Oh don't worry about that, sugar. They're not afraid of the occasional wandering eye. Trust me."

I was barely conscious of her words. I heard them and they registered but my head was too busy trying to make sense of the fact she was nude.

"Now don't get all flustered," she giggled. "I wanted you youngsters to understand I'm not so old as to get my undies in a bunch over a little bit of skinny dipping. Shoot, honey, when I was your age that was the way we usually swam. The boys was supposed to look the other way until us girls were decently covered by the water. Though, truth be told, we hoped they weren't keeping their word, not totally anyway. Honey, women liked to be looked at. They like to be appreciated. That don't mean they like to be gawked at or hooted at. Men have forgotten how to be gentlemen. A sidling glance of appreciation never got a gentleman in trouble."

"But that's my mom."

"Course it is, sugar. I'm not telling you to lust over her. That'd be wrong. But she's a lady, too. A damn pretty one, too, and your daddy is a damn good-looking fellow, pardon me for saying so but it's true. It's hard to see your parents as people just like everyone else but it's the truth nonetheless. That's one of those bumps we all have to bounce over at some point or the other - understanding are parents are people, just like the rest of us."

I had kept my eyes fixed on the ocean. Muriel touched my arm.

"Here's that martini." I reached for it without turning my head and she snorted. "Honey, you can take being a gentleman too far. I already told you a lady appreciates being noticed. You keep your neck all stiff like that and you'll get a headache. Come on and sit."

When I turned I saw her bottom walking away from me. From behind she looked awfully damn young. There wasn't a trace of a sag in her butt. When she turned to sit in a chair, I saw that she had less hair than Jill. She had just a tiny square of neatly trimmed black. I also noticed she had no tan lines. Her nipples were dark brown, the areolas nearly black. Like her butt, if her breasts sagged I couldn't appreciate it.

"Don't let me fool you, honey," she chuckled, reading my mind in that irritating way women have. "They're real enough but I had the suspension worked on last winter. Now your momma," she nodded toward the sound of soft splashes, "she's all natural and she's got the boobs of a twenty year old, not that you ought to be paying that much attention mind you."

The sight of Muriel's body was making me excited. I sat down quickly, hoping it wasn't obvious yet. She handed me a glass across the bistro table that sat between our chairs. The glass was cold, beads of condensation ran down its sides. I took a sip and grimaced. It tasted like turpentine.

Muriel laughed. "They're an acquired taste, sugar. Trust me. They'll grow on you. Just like older women."

My eyes jerked to her face and she smiled before winking at me. What the fuck? I was pretty sure she was coming on to me but I was terrified of being wrong. What a total fuck up that would be. I could hear her soft drawl in my head, talking to my parents: "I'm afraid you folks are going to have to pack up. Your boy, Mark, jerked off in front of me earlier and now, when I tried to do y'all a favorite and talk to him about a job, he tried to kiss me. Sorry, Jan, Mark, we go way back but I can't put up with that sort of behavior."

What a complete, total, balls up, fucking disaster that would be. I didn't respond. I couldn't risk it.

The sounds of splashing grew louder and Muriel's head swiveled.

"Now that's the Ben and Jan I know," she whispered deep in her throat.

I leaned forward and looked past her. We were in the shadow of the house. I doubt anyone in the sunlight could see us, especially since the sun was behind the house. They'd be looking into the sun.

Mom was leaning against the side of the pool in waist deep water. My dad was behind her. The movement of their bodies and the swaying of her hips made it crystal clear what was going on. I held my breath in surprise. Muriel rose and walked to the railing and leaned on it, legs straight. The cleft mound of her pussy was clearly visible between her legs. I looked away, back toward the pool.

My mom and then my dad looked up and spotted Muriel. I leaned further back into the shadows. I expected them to have the same reaction I had had earlier. I expect them to jump, separate and scramble out of the pool. Instead, they smiled. They smiled at Muriel and went back to fucking.

I knew they fucked. They weren't that old. It freaked me out imagining they fucked but I knew they did. I never imagined witnessing it. I started to get up to rush inside. I glanced over at our house. The patio door was opened. That was not unusual. Every bit of breeze was welcomed.

What was unusual was the three crouched figures huddle behind two of the lounge chairs, faces peering through the stainless steel cables that served as the deck's railing.

Those fucking perverts.

------

"Honey, don't come down too hard on your brother and sister," Muriel whispered, turning to look at me, reading my mind again. "No one, not even your parents fuck outside without the vague hope someone is watching. Your parents aren't that old. Hell, I'm not that old. We sure as hell don't feel old. They're stupid in love with each other after all this time and that is a joy to behold. They're good folks your parents, the best. So, they get a little kick out of someone watching them enjoy each other. Big deal."

"Big deal?" I hissed between my teeth. "In front of their own kids? That's fucked up."

"Settle down, sugar. I'd bet you dollars to donuts it never occurred to them y'all be watching. Me? Sure. Sugar pie, me they expect. It's not their fault your brother and sister are nosy." She looked at me, a question in her eyes. "You never walked in on 'em? By accident? Jan's told me how the five of you live on top of each other. There can't be that much privacy."

I looked away, embarrassed and conflicted. I had never walked in on my parents. They were careful about locking their door. But I had heard them often enough. They tried to be quiet but it was a small house. Worse, more than once I had jerked off, listening to the sounds wafting their way through the ductwork. Who was I to call my sister or brother a pervert? Me? I guy who jerked off to the sounds of his parents making love? I eased my conscience by noting I never did so thinking of my mom, gross. My mind was full of images of whoever happened to be the object of my wistful lust at the time. I spent many hours making love to Gwen Stefani in my head while my folks supplied the soundtrack.

Muriel moved away from the railing to sit on the side of the lounge chair, facing me. She rested on hand on my knee.

"Sugar, folks nowadays have separated themselves from the way life was for pretty much as long as there's been people and from the way life still is for most of the world. 'Normal' ain't every kid with his own bedroom and bathroom. I had six brothers and sisters. We lived on a dirt farm in the ass end of South Carolina. There was one bedroom, if that's what you'd call a room framed in rough planks with an old quilt for a door. That was for my momma and my daddy. The three of us girls all slept in a single bed that during the day served as our divan. The boys slept on pallets in a loft they had to crawl in, the roof too close to their heads to even sit up. A curtained off corner hid the chamber pot we all shared at night. Privacy? That's a modern invention, Mark. For most folks and for most of the time this old world has been spinning its way through space, hearing your parents making babies was what was 'natural' not the other way around.

"I'm not saying you ought to be spying on them, or anyone else as far as that goes, but hearing them or accidentally seeing something usual kept private don't make you a bad person and it sure as hell isn't the end of the world. Not to mention the fact that watching folks wanting to be seen isn't spying. Drink your martini, sugar. You'll feel better."

I hated the taste but I wanted the liquor. I drained it, trying to ignore the soft grunts of my father and the melodious whimpers of my mom.

Muriel sat back in the lounge chair, pulling her legs up and crossing her ankles. She let her hands dangle in front of her pussy.

"Come on over her, sugar. Keep me company."

I lifted by butt off the chair and swiveled without actually standing up. I was afraid one of my parents might look up and see me. If Muriel understood what I was doing, she let it slide. I sat sideways on the end of the chair, half turned away from her, looking at the sky above the water. The washed out blue was beginning to grow darker. Another hour or so and the first stars would wink into existence. What would I wish for?

"Sugar, you're over dressed," Muriel said as she leaned forward and took a hold of the bottom of my tee shirt. When she lifted it up, I raised my arms and let her slide the shirt over my head. It fell beside the lounge chair without making a sound. "Scoot around, sugar. You're all tense. Let me work on those shoulders. I was a masseuse you know. That's how I met Mr. Dyer, my husband, rest his soul."

I moved and sat at the end of the chair, facing the ocean. Muriel moved to sit behind me. She straddled the chair. I could feel her warm thighs through my shorts. The thought of how close her naked pussy was to my back was all it took to bring my cock to full attention. I desperately needed to adjust myself. My cock was trapped in the left leg of my shorts. I needed to free it, let it lie along my upper leg, but there was no way to do that with my naked parent's landlord sitting behind me.