Wedding Bell Blues Pt. 06

The disclaimers: Every character who matters is at least 18. A work of fiction (more or less). Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental (for the most part).

Part 6 picks up on Thursday morning. This installment features a showdown with Jennifer, and a yachting trip that brings new challenges.

~~~@~~~@~~~

~~~ WEDNESDAY EVENING ~~~

"You're a dead man in the morning," she mumbled, half asleep.

"Promises, promises."

I tried not to think about how all of this would be over in a few days. I fell asleep stroking her hair while Spring Peaches filled my soul. Life couldn't get any better.

~~~ THURSDAY ~~~

I half woke up with the dawn sun just barely poking over the horizon. Hayleigh did her best to slip out of bed without waking me, and I didn't want to let on that I was awake. I heard her rustling about in the bathroom and a toilet flush, but she didn't come out right away. When she did, she was barely visible in the still-darkened room as she padded quietly back to the bed.

I hoped that she would get back in to resume our snuggling, but instead I felt her climbing over my chest. Her calves bracketed my head and the tops of her delicate ankles settled on my collarbones. She grasped the bed's heavy wooden headboard to steady herself, then moved her hips downward so that her damp pussy pressed against my chin. My nose filled with an intoxicating blend of strawberries and Hayleigh's delightful natural scent.

"Good morning!" she cooed. "My kitty is upset with us for depriving her last night. You're going to help me make it up to her."

I grasped a handful of Hayleigh's magnificently squeezable buns in both hands and guided her forward. Her outer lips splayed out when my tongue penetrated, then separated, her delicate inner lips. Her breathing kicked up a notch as I held her in place and probed at her opening. Fluid leaked in a slow trickle, running down the sides of my jaw and onto the pillow beneath my head. I savored the taste of her, mildly acidic with a tinge of strawberries. I wanted more. A lot more.

My tongue easily found her entrance. I alternated between worming my tongue inside and nibbling on her swollen inner lips. Above me her head hung down between outstretched arms. Her breaths came in fits and stutters now, and her wetness soaked into my pillow, wetting my neck. It crossed my mind that housekeeping would notice the wet pillow, which would endlessly embarrass Hayleigh. A twisted part of me wanted them to know.

"Hang on a second," I said to the lolling face above me.

Hayleigh's half-closed eyes opened fully. "Whoo--I'm barely hanging on now!" She was almost out of breath, panting like she had run a marathon.

"Just need to make an adjustment." I took a couple of the towels that were still on the bed unused from the night before and placed them under my head and neck, over the sopped pillow. That pillow owed me for saving it from complete ruination.

I resumed tongue-probing all around Hayleigh's warm, squishy opening. But instead of cupping her buns like I did before, I reached around behind her leg and worked a finger into her pussy while my tongue circled her engorged button. I could faintly feel it pulse against my tongue, keeping time with her heartbeat. She was dripping steadily now, and her jerking thighs hinted that she was on the trembling edge of letting loose another flood. Close enough that she tried to warn me off.

"Baby, better stop before I drown you. Oh, fucking hell that feels good!"

She tried to lift away, but she really didn't want me to stop. And she was going to have to make me stop. I wanted to make her explode, to cry out. I was on a mission. I was game for anything that would fry her brain. My free arm grasped around the back of her hips to hold her pussy to my face. She relented and let her lips splay around my mouth. That extra few inches allowed my finger to reach her G-spot. It felt more swollen and spongier than it had before. I curled my fingers into it while lashing the tip of her erect clit with the tip of my tongue. That was game, set, and match. Her thighs slammed forcefully against the sides of my head, and she alternated between growls and little shrieks as liquid poured out of her like tapwater. My fingers massaged her rough patch of joy until little jets of fluid bathed me face. After about the fourth spurt she forced herself out of my grasp and flopped down on the bed, twitching. I felt like the king of all Creation.

"Jesus, you're gonna kill me!" she sputtered breathlessly, "That's the second time you've short-circuited my brain!"

"I'm just experimenting and learning as I go."

"You've learned too damn much already!"

"That's what you get for showing me how your girl bits work. Great lessons, by the way. Very helpful."

She playfully swatted my arm, then rose slowly to crawl over to me. She hovered above me on all fours, her thick blonde hair falling loosely to gather on my face and shoulders. She pressed her lips to mine, insistent and hungry. Her tongue parted my lips and found mine. She wasn't nearly done with me, bless her.

"I can taste myself on you. You're soaked and so are these towels! Sure you didn't mind?"

"Remember when I was in your mouth, and you swallowed it all? Did you mind that?"

"No, I loved it! But that's different." Her brow furrowed. She was rethinking. "OK, maybe it isn't different, exactly. But you don't make a sopping mess of me or the bed or anything."

"That's only because I've been inside you when I, you know."

She laughed coarsely. "When you 'you know'? You mean when you cum? When you jizz? Bust a nut? Get your rocks off? Paint my tonsils?"

I wasn't sure if she was making fun of me or not. Uncertainty must have shown on my face.

"I'm sorry, Tom, I'm only being silly. I didn't know that kind of language bothered you."

"It doesn't. I'm not used to talking like that with a girl because, well, someone we both know didn't like it when I did, and she never talked like that with me. Said it was crude. And gross."

"Hmmm, the usual suspect at work screwing up your mind again." She surmised correctly. "Well it doesn't bother me. Sometimes I like naughty talk about what happens between the sheets. Girls can be really crude, too, ya know, and sometimes we like a guy to be explicit, too. Unless it's around other people. That IS gross."

"Yeah, I can think of a few other people in particular."

"So can I. My parents would be mortified." Another of her deep-from-the-guts laughs leapt out. "It's probably best not to even remind them that we've kissed."

Her laughter was infectious. "Ya think? OK, I'll try not to say, 'and before we had breakfast we'd usually screw our brains out.'"

"That sounds like an interesting conversation. And speaking of screwing," she said with a raised eyebrow, "it's time for my man to have his turn."

Did she say "my man"? Probably just a figure of speech. I wasn't going to get into that right then. Not the right time. Of course that was internal deflection. I was still negotiating with myself about telling her how I felt about her. How I had fallen for her. Things were going too damn well, and I didn't want to rock the boat. The technical term is for my rationalization was chickenitis.

"I'm ready for my turn! Have a preference?"

"How would YOU like to do it? You can have me any way you want. Hard and fast, slow and easy, both, or something else entirely. Or in my mouth if you like. You can even try my backdoor again if you want. For the next four days at least, I'm your personal amusement park. Face up, face down, buns up, riding or ridden!" Her eyes did not waiver. She still looked hungry. My move.

"Oh Jesus, Hayleigh, you have me so worked up right now... what I want is hard and deep." I was blushing. "Do you want an insight into the male lizard brain? She nodded, wide-eyed, like I was going to let her in on a forever guarded secret of malehood. "I want to WATCH myself sliding in and out of you. When it's time, I want to get as far into you as I can. I want to feel myself blasting into you while your legs lock around me and pull me in tight. Sorry, that's not very romantic, but there it is."

"You dope! Now you're finally talking to me! It's only taken three days!" Her foot drifted to my erection. She didn't break eye contact while her toes curled around my shaft and gently stroked me. I inhaled sharply and almost blew right then. "Ah, I think you ARE a foot guy!" she teased. "Maybe next time I'm going to slather some lotion on my feet and mess with you until you bust."

"By the way," she purred, "sometimes a girl likes her guy to own her kitty. To take her like he totally owns her and fuck her relentlessly until he cums inside her. Call it owning me, breeding me, whatever. That can be romantic, too. Not all the time, but sometimes. Like right now. Really really right now, Caveman."

She shed her black silk nightdress and rolled onto her back, scooted her butt to the very edge of the mattress, then spread her legs wide open. Even after all of our carnal escapades I never saw her with such an intense "FUCK ME HARD" expression. I got off the bed and positioned myself in front of her. Raw carnal need radiated from her like heat shimmering off asphalt on a searing summer day. She raised her legs up higher and reached under her butt cheeks with both hands to spread her pussy wide open. Her clit jutted out, hard and angry pink. A puddle of wetness glinted in her opening.

"Let's try for sextuplets, Tom. Don't worry about pleasing me. You've already done that, and more. This is for you. I want you to cum deep inside me. I'm YOUR fuck-toy. Pound me senseless if you want. But if there's a drop left inside you when you're done you're in big trouble!"

Hayleigh moved her fingers aside as I pushed into her. She was as tight as ever, but so wet that I went balls deep on the first thrust. Her arms flew around my neck and she pulled my face to hers. She was voracious, kissing as if it was the last kiss she would have in her life. I felt her feet gripping my ass as I plowed in and out of her, urging me to go deeper and deeper. She grunted lewdly every time I pushed inside, then kissed me harder still. Her fingers dug into my back. I thought I would bust after only a few thrusts, but I guess I was overstimulated or something. Whatever it was allowed me to keep going.

Hayleigh decided to try to tap directly into that male lizard brain. She stopped her assault on my mouth and hugged me tightly to her so that she could whisper directly into my ear. "Do I feel good? Can you feel my boobs on your chest? My hard nips? My kitty massaging your cock? Cum inside me. Cum in my pussy. I love the feel of your warm cum shooting inside me. Shoot your jizz deep into my tight little puss." She kissed me again, sucking my tongue into her mouth. That did me in. My cum jetted out in what felt like torrents. I forced my cock as deep into her as I could. She must have felt it squirting inside her, coating her. She must have. She broke our kiss and threw her head back. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth made a huge, round circle. Her perfectly manicured nails dug hard into my back and I felt the wonderful flood of Hayleigh's pussy juice washing over my nuts. I swear I was lightheaded for a few moments, almost dizzy.

I lay on top of Hayleigh for several minutes, taking in the delightful sensation of her feet tracing along the backs of my legs. Could be that I am a foot guy after all. I nestled my face into her neck, reveling in the soft warmth and her peachy scent. It was barely able to overcome the smell of sex that filled the room, but it was there. She was more addictive than any drug I could imagine.

"Damn, Tom, I actually felt you letting loose in me!"

With what scant energy I had left, I raised myself up on my elbows. "Is that different? I mean, don't you usually?"

"Not like that! Most of the time I only feel, I don't know how to describe it. You throb and flex like you're pulsing. I can usually feel you get a little bigger. And your cum feels warm inside. That feels really good by the way. The sensation makes me feel a closer connection with you. I can't explain it." She smiled and nipped playfully at my nose.

"And this time?"

"All of that. A lot of that! But I could really feel it hitting my insides that time. Like somebody put a big squirt gun deep in me and kept pulling the trigger."

"I hope that's a good thing."

"A VERY good thing, silly." She gave me a satisfied smile. "Maybe that's the female lizard brain at work. Like we're wired to get off on feeling a guy shooting deep into her. I don't know. Now I'm the one babbling. My brain still isn't working right after what you did to me."

I was still semi-hard when I pulled out and rolled off. She got into doggy position. Her blonde tresses fell down over her face in a tangled mess. She pulled a handful over her ear and looked back at me over her shoulder.

"I told you last night you were going to be a dead man this morning." She glanced at my semi-hard cock. "You're not dead yet."

I got on my knees behind her. Seeing her swollen pussy from behind got me fully hard again. I slipped in easily and held her tightly against me by her hips. She groaned softly when my balls pressed against her sodden folds. "Take as long as you want," she offered, "just make sure all of it goes inside me."

I thought I would last longer after the exhausting first round of the morning. I probably would have, if Hayleigh hadn't reached underneath me and massaged my nuts after a few minutes of unrestrained plowing. Her pussy squelched every time my cock plunged in and withdrew, almost like there was a vacuum seal around my cock. Her delicate hands made a white-knuckle death grip on wads of the bedsheet when I grabbed her by the hips and plunged relentlessly into her folds. She backed against me hard when I made my last thrust into her, I imagine to help me go in as deeply as possible. She got what she asked for. All that I had left went inside her. This time I softened quickly and slipped out. She flopped face down and I stretched out on my back next to her. It was barely past dawn and I felt like I could sleep for hours.

I reached out and found her shoulder. I couldn't resist kneading her warm skin.

"Mmmmm. That feels nice," she said wearily.

"Nice enough for you to do one more thing for me?"

"Maybe. Do you think you have one more thing left in you?"

"Sounds like a challenge. I might surprise you."

"OK, but if I guess what it is you want me to do, then you owe me one. Agreed?"

"One what?"

"One of whatever I want."

"That's dangerously open-ended."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" She mimicked a chicken bawking. She was up to something; I knew she was setting me up. I'd learned that much. Well, nothing ventured.

"Alright, agreed. Take your best guess."

"You want me to cuddle up next to you and rest my head on your shoulder while you play with my hair and fondle my waist and hips."

I was dumbfounded. "HOW did you know that?"

"Because of how you reacted the first time I cuddled up to you. Plus you said that you like after-play, as long as it's with the right girl. As it happens, I'm the right girl, so QED."

She crawled alongside and melted into me. I curled my arm around her shoulder and drew her close. Her leg up slowly raised upward until her soft, warm thigh splayed across my groin.

"I could get used to this," she murmured. Her foot slipped between my legs and she massaged my knees with her toes.

"I hope I don't get used to this."

"You are a hopeless romantic, aren't you? You should do scripts for those corny Lifetime and Hallmark movies my mother likes to watch."

Hayleigh's phone chimed from the night table. It was her mother's ringtone. "Well, speak of the Devil." She reached across me to grab her phone.

"Hi Mom!......... We've been up for a while.... Since a little before dawn.... Why are we up so early? Really? If you must know, I just wore Tom out, and I may never walk properly again............. Because you keep asking questions you say don't want to know the answers to............. Then stop asking those kinds of questions!...... OK, OK, OK, let's drop it....... We're going to get some breakfast and then we're going to go on a two-day cruise on a really big yacht.... It should be a lot of fun.......... Really? That's quite a change. What happened?............ I'd consider it, IF Dad stops being a jerk and apologizes.......... Yes, I mean it....... He can call whenever he wants....... OK, bye. Love you, too."

"That sounded interesting. What's up at home?"

"A lot. Jennifer is moving out. She's going to stay with my Aunt Joycelynne and Uncle Carl in Eau Claire, at least until things settle down. She doesn't want to risk running into you, and especially not after we have spent a week together like this. And she's not eager to see me, either, but that's mutual. So she's off to Eau Claire until she figures out what to do with herself."

"I don't really want to see or talk to her, either, Hay. Besides, I don't have anything to say to her. Nothing civil anyway. Anyway, now your father wants you to live at home after all?"

"So my mother says. But I'm not doing it if he's going to give me crap about us. And I want an apology, too. For what he said before. I will NOT be treated that way."

"I need to talk to your father myself, Hay."

"What about?"

"I owe him an apology. A big one. I shouldn't have made things so bad for him at the church. He wasn't at fault for what Jennifer did. I should have treated him and your mother far better than I did."

"You weren't yourself though. Who would be? I saw the video too, remember? I wanted to kill Jennifer. You should have been in our dressing room at the church. I almost physically attacked her. Dad had to block me or I would have. I can only imagine how you felt."

"That's an explanation, not an excuse. I was myself. It wasn't my evil twin who treated your parents that way. I did it, so it was me."

"One thing at a time, Tom. First let me see if I can patch things up with my Dad. Then we can worry about making peace between you two."

"I hope we can. I really do like your father. Your mom, too. Either way, I want to apologize to him. To both of them."

She snuggled against me again, and I resumed enjoying the feel of her curves my palm slid lazily over them. "Let's worry about all of that mess later. We still need to get cleaned up, get something to eat, and pack for the boating trip."

Eventually we dragged ourselves out of bed and into the shower. Like our previous times, showering together was as much about affection as it was getting clean, even though neither of us openly acknowledged it. Hayleigh went out of her way to press her ass against my cock at every opportunity, and I made sure to take extra care to see that her pert tits were sufficiently soaped and rinsed. We spent as much time casually smooching as we did washing. I even got hard again, which surprised me. I didn't think I could recharge so soon after our morning marathon. She guided me to sit on the wide bench and turned her back to me. She hovered over my lap, and looked over her shoulder at me while slowly guiding my cock into her pussy.

"I said that you'd get a chance to nail me in the shower," she declared. "Another item checked off our list!"

She moved her hips in small circles, so that her pussy massaged my cock as much as stroked it. I reached around her to lightly rub her button while she twerked and twisted on me. Her head lolled back onto my shoulder.

"Oh fuck! That feels so good! Keep doing that!"

Hayleigh started riding me harder, which made it more difficult to keep contact with her engorged little clit. It must have been enough though, because she soon started her wonderful growling sound. A little yelp escaped before she slammed herself down hard. I felt her pussy clench down on me, pushing me over the edge with her. She leaned fully back into me, allowing my arms to wrap around her.

"That was fun!" she said. "I didn't think you would be able to go again."

"That makes two of us. As much as I'd like to spend the rest of the morning like this, we're going to run out of hot water pretty soon."

She made an exaggerated fake pouty-face. "Let's finish up then. For some reason I'm starving."

She lifted off me and my softening cock, then pulled me up toward her. We shared one more long kiss before finishing our shower. She put on some tiny bikini panties and a wisp of a translucent bra while we picked out clothes to wear. She noticed me perving on her, which was hard to miss, as I was perving on her constantly.

"Checking me out again? You're insatiable!"

"Can't help it. I just can't seem to take my eyes away."

"So you keep saying. My ego is going to be the size of a planet and it's all your fault."

She sat down at the vanity to brush out her tangled, damp hair. I stood behind her, as I had done a few days before, and took the brush from her hand. Brushing her hair while we chatted just seemed natural, as if I'd done that with her for years. And I relished the physical contact. At that moment, the simple intimacy of combing her hair was almost as emotionally satisfying as the sex.

"I'm going to tell my mother that you spoiled me rotten."

"Doesn't count as spoiling if I enjoyed doing it."

We decided to get breakfast at the resort's restaurant because we were famished, and it was convenient. We asked for a table away from others if possible, so we could talk more freely. It wasn't busy yet, so the hostess was able to accommodate us with a table that looked out over the beach. We decided to have a heavy, calorie-laden Midwestern-style breakfast. The Bahamian version of pancakes, bacon, and eggs hit our spots. The syrup was different though. It wasn't based on maple sugar, it tasted like a cane sugar base. Good, but very different. Hayleigh asked if she could have a some to take with her. The waiter obliged by giving her a generous serving in a sealed plastic cup.

"What are you going to do with that?" I asked. "I doubt it will keep very long."

"Won't have to," she said with a wicked grin.

We finished breakfast and headed back to pack for the sailing adventure. Hayleigh had me try on the dinner jacket, just to make sure it fit. She chose well; it fit like it was tailored for me. Other than the sleeves being about 1/4 inch too long, it was spot-on. She also found trousers of that matched the dinner jacket, a proper fitted white shirt, and a black bow tie.

"Pretty snazzy there!" She gloated at her success. "I'd say I sized you up pretty well."

"I get the feeling you've had me sized up for a long time."

"I have a confession. I had spies help me get the measurements exactly right."

"My sister does love getting involved in romantic intrigues."

"Yeah, about that. It wasn't just your sister."

That caught me by surprise.

"Danni got your mother involved too," Hayleigh explained. "They went through your closet taking exact measurements of your suit coats, trousers, and shirts for me. I couldn't do it here, because you would have figured out what I was up to."

"You talked to my mother?" For some reason that was unsettling to me.

"Yup."

"That must have been an interesting chat."

"Oh, it was! Your mom told Danni to get lost so we could talk privately."

"Really? Do I want to know?"

"Everything's fine! Awkward at first, but it smoothed out. She's worried that we're going to get hurt."

"That seems to be a common concern among sane people."

"It is, isn't it? Anyway, she said that if we make each other happy then that's what counts, and that I'd have her full support."

"Sounds like my mother."

"So, do I make you happy?"

"Incredibly."

"Then your mother's no problem."

Hayleigh gave me a playful hug around the waist and a hip-bump before darting off to start packing for our sailing excursion. She told me more about the yacht she'd managed to book space on. It was about 150 feet long, and slept up to 10 guests plus crew, with 5 staterooms, each with a private head. There would be big formal dinners with everyone, and dancing afterward on one of the upper decks, weather and seas permitting. All the food and alcohol you want and a professional chef prepares the meals. There were two jet-skis on the rear fantail if we wanted to go waterskiing or blast around. The uppermost deck above the bridge was dedicated to sunbathing. We didn't have the master cabin, but Hayleigh somehow snagged one of the two VIP staterooms. I couldn't believe she managed to arrange all of it so quickly.

"So now that I've gotten a preview of my snappy new outfit, can I see your new dress?"

"Sorry Charlie, you're going to have to wait. You can thank your mother for that suggestion."

"Great. It was bad enough with you and Danni plotting. Now you've co-opted my own mother in your schemes."

"Susan was full of helpful ideas. I like her," she announced casually, as if her new relationship with my mother was the most natural thing in the world. The women in my life were conspiring, but in a good way, if that's possible.

"Susan, eh?"

"She insisted that I call her by her first name."

After a few minutes more of packing Hayleigh invited me to step outside. "I have a few things to pack that you don't get to see yet. Out with you until I text!"

I left to take a walk, immersed in lurid fantasies of things to come.

~~~@~~~@~~~

It seems that just about the time you get comfortable and have the temerity to think that things are on-track, the gods decide it's time to bring you to heel. I had just walked into the beach house after Hayleigh texted that all of the stuff she wanted to keep under wraps was packed away when my phone rang. The caller ID said "Paul Fredrickson." I showed my phone to Hayleigh. She shrugged and I accepted the call. I didn't really have a choice. Not answering would have been truly chicken shit. Hayleigh was on edge too, which is something I seldom saw. Our trepidation was justified. It wasn't Paul calling.

"Tommy?"

"What do you want, Jennifer?"

I decided that Hayleigh was going to hear whatever was said. Good decision or bad, I wanted Hayleigh to have no questions about the convo. I put the phone on speaker and set it on the table.

"I want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you. I guess blocking your number wasn't a clear enough message."

"Am I on speaker? Is Hayleigh there? Is she listening?"

"Yes, yes, and yes."

For the first time since our trip began, Hayleigh looked rattled. Her head was bowed and she bit at her lips. It wasn't a look that I before with the normally self-confident Hayleigh.

"It's OK," Hayleigh mumbled. "I'll step out so you can talk privately."

"Please stay. There's nothing to be said that you can't hear. Hay, I want you to hear everything." She inhaled deeply and stayed.

"Jennifer," I said as evenly as I could muster, "Hayleigh stays and she hears everything. Those are my terms. Take it or leave it."

"That's not fair! She--" I tapped the red End Call icon, ending the call.

"Wow," said a surprised Hayleigh, "you mean business."

"I don't negotiate with terrorists." It was a silly analogy, but I thought it sounded clever when I said it.

My phone rang again. Paul's ID. Again I shrugged my shoulders and took the call, on speaker.

"FINE then!" Jennifer said acidly. "Hayleigh can eavesdrop."

"What do you want, Jennifer?"

"I told you. I want to talk to you."

"Last time I'll say it: What. Do. You. Want?"

"You have to forgive me, and you have to give me another chance. I think I deserve that much, especially after what you did at the church."

Jennifer's audacity in trying to turn it around stunned me. Hayleigh rolled her eyes. I think involuntarily, but it was a close call.

"Let's take those in order," I began. "First, I don't 'have to' do anything. I might possibly come around to forgiving you one day, but I don't have to. Second, there is no universe where I give you another chance. You didn't take a chance, you made repeated choices. You made conscious choices to screw David behind my back, and you made that choice over and over again. What you did has left me with no affection for you at all. None. Even if I forgave you, and that definitely has not happened, I could never forget or get past it. I could never trust you. If you don't know that about me, then you know me even less than I knew you, and that's really saying something. So much for more chances."

"Third, you don't want to get into a discussion about what you deserve. You got a fraction of what you deserve. And finally, I don't think bringing up who did what at the church is your best strategy. But you be you."

Jennifer was defiant. "What do you want me to say then? How do I fix this with you? I admit I messed up royally with David, but we can work it out."

"You can't 'fix it' with me. But it might help that forgiveness thing if I knew what the fuck you were thinking when you were banging Horse-Dick behind by back for the past year. You could start by explaining why you did that. Why did you betray me? I told you a hundred times that I don't share. So start by telling me how you think I'm going to give you a pass on this. Then tell me how you could back-stab your own sister like you did. Your own sister! And finally, explain to me WHY you even WANT to get back together. Why this big push to get back together with a guy you don't really even love? That makes no sense to me at all."

"Jesus, don't be so dramatic! It was just sex, OK? Guys do it all the time. Sowing your wild oats or something. And we weren't even married yet! It was a last fling before tying the knot and then I would have been yours and yours alone."

"Now see, JENNY, you're still lying to me. It wasn't just sex. You and David had a grand time making a fool of me. I heard all your jokes about the sloppy seconds, how clueless I was, and the rest of it. And your so-called last fling went on for months. Oh, and I know all about Chicago, and how David taking a job there was going to make it easier for the two of you to get together to sow those oats. Is that still the plan? I bet fucking him in our bed while I was in class would have been a real knee-slapper for both of you. There I'd be, studying and working to build our future while you get porked by your horse-dicked fuck-buddy. Such a deal! So, any other excuses you want to put out there? Speak up, because this is the one and only and final discussion I am going to have with you about us getting back together."

Jennifer didn't answer any of my questions. Instead she tried to skip directly to getting back together.

"I know why you're there with my sister," Jennifer said acidly. "You want to punish me and make me jealous. I get it, and maybe I deserve it. It's killing me knowing you're sleeping with her. You two have your revenge and we'll work it all out when you get back. I get punished and then we get each back together and get married like we planned."

"Jennifer, listen to me. I'm not trying to punish you or make you jealous. I don't want revenge on you, either. Not any more. I did at first, I'll admit that." I looked up from the phone to Hayleigh. "I'm ashamed to say it, but when I first invited Hayleigh to come with me getting back at you was on my mind. That lasted until I talked with her on the phone the next day. I'm here to be with Hayleigh, not to punish you." I thought Hayleigh would be ticked about my mixed motives for taking her on the trip, and I half expected her to storm out of the cabin. She surprised me by taking my hand. "And even though I'm still furious with you, enough anger has boiled off that I can have this conversation with you. I hope you find happiness with someone. It just won't be with me. I'm done. We're done."

Jennifer didn't say anything right away. Then she spat pure venom. "Fuck you! You're an asshole! You were a lousy lay anyway and you have a little boy dick. You and my sister can go fuck yourselves, though I don't know why she'd want to! You will NEVER match up to a real man!" I bet she can't even feel your tiny needle of a dick after David's COCK stretched her out! Does she fake it with you like I did? You'll never know for sure!" She hung up.

I was reeling. I thought I had walled-off Jennifer's ability to hurt me, but I was wrong about that. I knew right away that I'd be replaying in my mind "lousy lay" and "needle dick" endlessly, like an earworm of a hated song. It didn't even register that Hayleigh was talking to me until I felt her lightly shake my shoulder.

"Hey you! Are you in there? Are you alright?"

I had to collect myself before answering. "Yeah, I'm alright. You do have to give the girl credit, she knows exactly where to twist the knife for maximum effect."

"She gets no credit from me for being cruel. Gawd, when did she become so horrible! But Tom, there is a bright side to consider."

"There is? I can't wait to hear what that would be."

"Now you can be absolutely sure in your heart and soul that breaking it off completely is absolutely the right decision. Is that the woman you want to spend your life with?"

"No, of course not. Still hurts though."

Hayleigh embraced me in a gentle hug. "You know," she said quietly, "as I remember, you owe me one of whatever I want."

Crap. For once I was not at all in the mood for sex, yet I didn't want turning her down to cause another set of problems. I know she meant well, though I was a bit disappointed that she would be so obvious in her attempt to build me back up. But I wasn't upset. As I said, she meant well, even if it was transparent.

"Hay, I'm sorry, but I'm just not in a good frame of mind for fooling around right now."

"I totally understand," she said into my shoulder. "What I want is just to be held. Will you hold me?"

I felt like an idiot for misjudging her intentions. "I'm sorry, Hay. I jumped to a stupid conclusion. Besides, being held isn't what you want; it's what I want."

She hugged just a slight bit tighter. "It's what I want, too. Come outside with me. We can lie down on that big patio deck lounger and listen to the ocean. You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

She disengaged and led me by the hand out to the patio. It was a picture-postcard day. Far too nice a day to be squandered by self-pity, but I couldn't seem to snap out of it. She guided me down onto the lounger and took her usual position alongside me, molding herself to me.

I felt all of the pent-up emotions over the Jennifer's treachery starting to boil over. Still, men aren't supposed to cry. That was still part of an unspoken code all the men in my family went by. I heard it as early as I could remember from both of my grandfathers, my father, and even Uncle Jim. You take things in stride, and you maintain control. You don't let chinks in the armor show. Bend but don't break. Be in control. Anger if necessary, but no tears. And so that's how I rolled. After the wedding I got myself plastered instead of facing the fallout head-on. Then I jumped into this excursion with Hayleigh, which conveniently provided distractions from facing Jennifer's treachery. I had let the anger over Jennifer show in full force, but not the hurt over the loss. Right up until Hayleigh clung to me as the surf roiled the beach. Psychologists could probably use me as a case study for half of DSM-5.

"You may not want to hear this," she said timidly, "but I would be your closest, bestest friend in the whole world, if you let me. And you can tell your best friend anything. Anything at all."

That tripped the wire. Hayleigh didn't say a word while I babbled and ranted about catching her fucking David, the embarrassment of having to stand in front of a church full of people and tell them my wedding was off, knowing that my bride-to-be was a lying slut, elaborate plans for the future destroyed, and the endless calculated betrayals. Through it all Hayleigh let me vent. She didn't try to reason me out of my feelings or minimize any of it. She didn't say a single word. She just hugged onto me harder until I ran out of steam. Neither of us said anything for a good 30 minutes after I fizzled out. We just snuggled and watched the waves. She finally asked if I still wanted to go on the boating trip, or would I rather skip it and do something else. Or do nothing else at all.

Venting was cathartic. "Are you kidding? There's almost nothing I'd rather do!"

"Almost, eh?" she said with a tender smile. "And what would the 'almost' be?"

"I'd like to take a walk on the beach with my closest, bestest friend."

"She would absolutely love that. Let me get my sandals and our sunglasses." She disentangled from me and padded inside.

"Sorry about the meltdown," I said sheepishly when she returned to the sun deck. "That's the second time this week that I've had an emotional crash-and-burn with you over Jennifer. You must think I never made it past adolescence, or that I'm a hopeless wimp. I don't know why you put up with my self-indulgent whining."

"I don't recall anything like that at all," she said casually. "I do remember my best friend confiding to me his feelings about disappointments with a previous girlfriend, and about some troubling things leading to their breakup that he's working out. But I don't remember anything about any meltdowns."

"You don't, eh?"

"Nope! And even if that had happened--which it didn't--but even if it had, it was all said to me in confidence, and won't be mentioned to another living soul. Ever. Cross my heart."

"What happens in Nassau stays in Nassau, is that it?"

"Yep, that's it exactly. It's on a list of things we trust each other about. Now come on, my Caveman, there's a lot of beach to explore."

"There sure is. And then we need to get to the boat for our next adventure. Lead on, Cavewoman."

We walked the length of the beach in both directions, about a half mile each way, holding hands for just about every step. My walk with Hayleigh was a return to Paradise. With a small interruption.

"So, Tom, about what Jennifer said."

"What about it?" Her face registered her internal turmoil.

"I'm just going to say it. She went after you where she thought you'd be most vulnerable. Because you're a guy, she knew that would be to make you doubt yourself in the bedroom. And because every girl knows that guys are self-conscious about the size of their package and if they can take care of business, that's where she went. She intended to cause maximum damage. Can you see it?"

"Yes, and it worked."

"Yes, it worked. Damn that be-otch! But she's so full of shit. Do you remember the talk we had the other day on the beach? You're a normal-sized guy. Oh, and by the way, you really do drive me absolutely insane. Think about it, but don't use your lizard brain. Hard for me to be faking it if I'm soaking the sheets all the time!"

"I remember what you said, and I promised to trust you on all that. Sorry to keep asking, but be patient with me, Hay."

"Of course I will. What are best friends for?"

Hayleigh was right. To Hell with Jennifer and her mind-games, I resolved. She had no more power over me.

~~~@~~~@~~~

We arrived at the dock comfortably ahead of time. A runabout shuttled us to the yacht, moored nearby in the bay. The good ship Ruby Scepter was a beauty. I'm no judge of rich-people's toys like big yachts, but my untrained eye caught enough. The craft was meticulously maintained, and sparkly clean. A steward's assistant conducted us from the boarding area at the yacht's fantail to our stateroom. The tangy smell of freshly-oiled teak and cherry wood permeated the passageways and our stateroom, which also was immaculate. Several vases of fresh flowers took the edge off the subtly masculine tenor of our quarters. The only thing that seemed out of place was the bed. It looked to be a queen, but it seemed small after several days sleeping in the massive California King at the resort. Hayleigh caught that, too. We shared a knowing look.

"Well," she remarked, "it's not like we take up more than a twin when we're sleeping, right?"

"When we're sleeping, sure. Just so long as it's sturdy and doesn't squeak."

I had forgotten that the steward was still in the stateroom with us. Hayleigh turned a deep shade of crimson. The steward, ever polite and professional, tried to suppress a smile.

"Ignore him," Hayleigh said to the steward while nodding in my direction. "He's still 12 years old and I haven't civilized him yet."

The steward lost his battle to not to smile, but recovered quickly. "Luncheon will be served at 1 p. m. If you care to join us, go down to the end of the hallway and take the rightward stair to the middle deck." He deftly reached into the pocket of his dark navy blue blazer and produced a pair of laminated cards. "These have the code for the electronic lock for your quarters. My name is Tahj. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you." He bowed slightly at the shoulders before exiting and quietly closing the door behind him.

Hayleigh shot me a playful glare, stifling her own laughter. "You total dork!" She pushed me backwards onto the bed, following and falling on top of me, now laughing outright. "So much for my previously pristine reputation as a maiden lady."

"Oh, come on! Now you have a funny story to tell your parents. Or you could entertain my mother with the story, now that you two are so chummy."

"I don't think your mother and I are at that level just yet. She doesn't quite know what to make of me. Or of us."

"I'll put in a good word for you."

"You do that." Her kiss was casual, almost relaxed. "What do you think so far? Did I do OK?"

"You did great! We're going to have a blast. Want to take a look around before lunch?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

She pushed herself off me and pulled me to my feet. A few lingering kisses later we were exploring the length and breadth of the Ruby Scepter. I decided that the lounge chairs on the flybridge was going to be my favorite place to hang out. By design, the views were incredible, and the flying bridge offered privacy except for anyone flying above.

We eventually made our way to the middle deck for the lunch. Hayleigh and I were definitely out of our league among the guests. We were easily the youngest, and judging by the array of gaudy big diamond rings on the wives and the equally still gaudier designer watches on the husbands, we were even moreso the most impecunious.

Hayleigh noticed our relative poverty, too. "We'd have to rob Fort Knox to fit in," she whispered.

"I know!" I whispered back.

"Maybe this was a mistake."

"Not at all. The men are checking you out, by the way."

"I'm aware," she said under breath. "And the bottle-blonde standing at the rail with the tall guy is checking you out."

"How do you know she's not a natural blonde?"

"Because she either dyed it blonde or she has a head of natural blonde hair and dyed her eyebrows black."

"Point taken."

She flashed a dazzling, triumphant smile. "Shall we mingle?"

Hayleigh took my hand and led us to the assembled gaggle. The bottle-blonde was Christine; her tall husband was Mike. Christine was nice enough, but I took a quick dislike to Mike. His obvious ogling of Hayleigh had something to do with my attitude. We made idle conversation before breaking away to be seated for lunch. Mike's leering wasn't lost on Hayleigh.

"Mike is a pig!" she muttered when we were out of earshot. "Christine had to have seen him perving on me."

"Had to have. Sorry about that."

"No need for you to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Would you like for me to say something to him?"

"No, don't. I'll handle it. But it was sweet of you to offer, Caveman."

She hugged me to her and then took me in tow. "Let's mingle some more."

We chatted haphazardly with other guests until luncheon was ready. It was a dazzling array of conch offerings and fresh fruits. Hayleigh and I were seated, unfortunately, directly across from Mike and Christine. For reasons unknown, Mike apparently concluded that no one would notice his constant ogling of Hayleigh's tits. About halfway through the meal Hayleigh decided she had had enough. She locked eyes with Mike.

"Did I spill something on my blouse?" she said at a slightly louder than table-talk volume.

If there ever was a deer-in-the-headlights look, Mike had it.

"Excuse me?"

"Did I spill something on my blouse?" she repeated calmly. "I ask because you've been staring at my chest since we sat down, so I assume there's something spilled on my blouse that you can't look away from." She didn't break eye contact, not even a little.

Everyone who heard the exchange watched the color drain from Mike's face and flow to Christine's, who glared at Mike with the hardened mien of a volcanically pissed-off wife. Mike looked plaintively at Christine, as if he expected her to bail him out.

"Don't look at me," Christine spat out. "I'm not the one being a dirtbag."

The other conversations at the table ceased. All eyes flitted between Mike, Christine, and Hayleigh. I had a flashback to the announcement at the church calling off my wedding, where everyone was transfixed, waiting for the next plot twist to unfold. Mike finally turned away from Christine's icy glare and refocused on Hayleigh.

"I'm very sorry," he began, and then paused to search for what to say next.

Christine jumped into the void. "Sorry? You certainly are," she spat out sotto voce, pointedly not looking at him. "I don't want to be around you right now, and I'm not finished with my lunch. So take a walk."

"Ah, to where?"

Christine still wouldn't look at him. "To the back of the boat, and then go another fifty feet."

Mike rose from his chair and slinked out of sight. I don't think he had ever been called out like that before. No one said anything as Mike headed off. They just looked down at their plates, mostly uncertain about whether to say something or to pretend that nothing had happened and resume their own conversations.

Christine, on the other hand, was a steaming mix of angry and embarrassed. "I am sorry for my husband's behavior," she said to Hayleigh. "I told him to knock it off after he was leering at you before, but he does it anyway."

"I don't mean to be rude or to be nosy, but why do you put up with it?" Hayleigh was asking, but I was curious too.

"I don't know. I guess I've gotten used to it, and at least he's not doing anything behind my back."

"Nothing that you know of," Hayleigh remarked sadly. Christine of course couldn't know that Hayleigh was thinking of David's deceptions.

Christine nodded wearily. "That I know of."

Hayleigh apparently had second thoughts about calling Mike out in front of everyone. "I shouldn't have said anything, Christine. I shouldn't have embarrassed you. I'm very sorry."

Christine wasn't having it. "Pffff. Don't sweat it. I saw what he was doing. I was about ten seconds from clocking him. Let's just enjoy the rest of our lunch."

And we did, until mid-afternoon when everyone gathered near the fantail for swimming, sun-decking, and chatter. Somehow the men and women split off into separate groups. The topic of conversation among the men became Hayleigh, courtesy of Mike the Arsehole. He had already downed a few in place of his aborted lunch, which wasn't good for a guy who already lacked both a working internal filter and self-awareness.

"That girlfriend of yours has some mouth on her," he said to me. It was a challenge. He was spoiling for a confrontation. I was pissed off at him for ruining the mood at lunch, and even more for disrespecting Hayleigh. I also lacked the good sense to not to take the bait.

"I know! She has the prettiest smile, don't you think?" Take that, bastard.

"She got me in a shitload of trouble with my wife. You better get control of that bitch."

That was waaaay out of line. "You call her a bitch again, and we're gonna to go 'round and 'round."

You could feel the tension go up several notches. The other men stopped talking and began assessing the danger level. As men do.

Mike set his drink glass on a table and heaved himself out of his chair. "What? You think I can't handle a kid like you?"

I set my own drink down and faced him. He easily had three inches and 40 pounds over me. What the fuck was I doing? "Don't know," I replied with all of the calm and menace I could muster. "But if you disrespect her again, we will sure as hell find out." I wondered how long it would take to get back to shore if I needed a hospital.

To my eternal relief, a couple of the others stepped between us and steered us apart.

"Come on, let's all settle down" one of them said to Mike as a pair wrestled him away. Another guy, Carlos, put a beefy arm firmly around my shoulder and steered me in the other direction. "Tom, isn't it?" he said quietly. "Es un imbicil. You don't want to upset your pretty girl over him, do you?"

Things cooled down almost as quickly as they got heated up--until Christine unexpectedly appeared from around the corner of the main salon. "Michael! I need to talk to you RIGHT NOW!" Mike glared at me as he followed Christine around the corner and down some stairs. We couldn't hear all of it, but the gist was that if Mike didn't behave the first thing Christine was going to do when we docked was fly back home and hire a divorce lawyer.

We didn't see Mike again for hours, which was fine by me.

The remaining men decided that they wanted to try their luck at deep-sea fishing, which apparently meant putting rods in holders and chattering about business and sports while slukking down alcohol. The ladies congregated around the foredeck for their own chatter and sunbathing. Setting aside Mike the Arsehole's antics, it was a glorious way to spend an afternoon. Except that I missed being with Hayleigh. My reason told me that I was flush with the infatuation of a new romance, and would fade with time. My heart told me that it would never change.

The fishing and chatter wrapped up about six o'clock, so everyone could get changed for dinner. Carlos caught an 80-pound tuna that was destined to be wind up at the dinner table. Dinner was "casual," which Tahj the steward helpfully alerted us meant dress slacks and dress shirts for the men, and dresses or nice skirts for the ladies. Hayleigh decided on the knee-length pleated ivory skirt that she wore to the casino, but with a burgundy silk blouse instead of the deep green one. She never failed to be the ultimate eye-candy. She caught me perving on her again.

"Calm your chromosomes, Caveman." She lightly squeezed my cock over my trousers as we headed out of our stateroom. Then she winked and ran the tip of her tongue slowly between her lips.

"That doesn't calm them, you brat."

"Whatever do you mean?" She batted her eyes in feigned innocence. I looked downward, where she was casually palming my nuts through my trousers.

"Oh, that!" she said in mock surprise. "I was just checking to make sure that you were zipped."

"Sure you were. And lip-licking?"

"They were dry. Must be the salt air. I'll get some cream on them tonight."

"You ARE a brat. You need a good spanking."

"Oooh," she exclaimed, throwing her head back. "That sounds like fun!" She took my hand and led us down the passageway to the main salon for dinner. "I think Tahj said the menu tonight was salmon, tuna, steaks grilled out on the deck, Bahamian jerk-chicken, and an Island-style vegetable-something for the vegetarians," she said. "I'm going to add ten pounds by the time we get home."

"We'll find some way to work those calories off."

"More promises! Besides, sex doesn't burn many calories. It takes about two rounds to burn off one drink, so you're gonna be busy!"

We mingled with the others for about 15 minutes until it was time to take our seats at table. This time Mike and Christine were at the far other end of the table from us. A knowing glance from Tahj suggested that wasn't by chance. We ended up across from Carlos and his wife, Rosalinda, which means "pretty rose" in Spanish. She was all of that. I guessed her to be in her mid-thirties, about five-five, with jet black hair that fell lazily around her shoulders. She wore a taut-fitted floral print dress that came to about mid-thigh, and naturally fell open to draw the eyes to her ample bust. She sported a nice pair, and it was hard to miss her big nips trying to drill their way through what had to be a paper-thin bra. She was a knockout, and she knew it. I wondered if Mike the Arsehole would have the good sense not to perv on her, too. Carlos was the voice of reason when he averted the near fisticuffs between Mike and me earlier, but I could see Carlos throwing Mike right over the rail and into the ocean if he disrespected Rosalinda. Unlike Carlos, I wouldn't intervene, and would swear on a stack that I saw nothing.

During the dinner convo we learned that Carlos ran a prosperous machine tools business that had been in his family for generations, freeing Rosalinda to quit her job and start their family. This was their fifteenth anniversary celebration. Hayleigh and Rosalinda took to each other like old friends. Turned out that Rosalinda was a nurse in Lima before she married Carlos and they started churning out kids.

Carlos and I watched in near awe as the two women, who were complete strangers only minutes before, bonded like superglue. Hayleigh and Rosalinda chattered endlessly about nursing and juggling jobs and a family. Meanwhile, we saw crew setting up what looked like a DJ station and speakers, obviously for after-dinner dancing. I positively suck on a dance floor, but I couldn't wait to dance with Hayleigh. To be honest, part of me wanted to show her off. It was a stupid impulse, but so long as I'm being honest, I hoped Mike the Arsehole choked on it. I needed to grow up.

After freshening up we found the dancing was already underway. The music was heavily slanted to the Nineties era, I suppose because most of the guests were in their teens or twenties back then, but there were a several selections from the Eighties, too, along with some Forties swing that was great for dancing. We got some cocktails and found some empty seats at a temporarily vacated table. When the song ended Carlos and Rosa joined us, along with Kellie and Brian, a middle-aged couple from Nebraska, and Tim and Deanna, a somewhat younger couple from Vancouver. It was a great evening. We freely traded off dance partners, and I somehow managed not to embarrass myself too badly. It helped that Rosa, Kellie, and Deanna were forgiving of my missteps, such that I appeared merely inexperienced rather than clumsy. Every dance with Hayleigh was a delight, despite my awkward footwork.

Hayleigh and Brian were dancing to a classic slow tune from the 50s, The Platters' Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. I returned to the table with drink refills and sat down next to Brian's wife, Kellie, who was sitting this one out. We were chatting about how nice dinner was, when out of nowhere Kellie asked when Hayleigh and I were going to get engaged.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"I hope I didn't open a can of worms. It's just the way you two are with each other. I didn't see Hayleigh wearing an engagement ring, and well, I assumed...."

Kellie had piqued my curiosity. "Sorry, I'm just another clueless guy. The way we are?"

Kellie couldn't hide her amusement. "Men really are clueless. Look at her." Kellie nodded toward Brian and Hayleigh. "See how she's keeping a respectful distance from Brian? How she's talking to him and not putting her head against his shoulder or chest? She's setting boundaries and sending messages to everyone, particularly to you, that this is just a totally harmless dance."

I tried not to sound dismissive or critical. "And you don't think you're reading too much into that?"

"Hardly. When she dances with you she practically melts into your chest. When she looks up at you, you're rubbing noses. Besides, it's not just the dancing. As soon as she sits down she holds your hand, and she hardly ever lets it go. She might as well put up a big neon sign saying 'I'm his and he's MINE.'" She laughed. "Most of the other couples are quite jealous of both of you!"

"And a bit of friendly advice, Tom." Kellie waited until she had my full attention before continuing. "She's watching how you dance and act with us, too. Believe me on that. Don't do anything stupid, OK?

"I guess I really am clueless."

"Most men are. And you! You're as transparent as glass." Kellie laughed at me.

"I am? How so?"

"You really don't know, do you?" I shook my head. "Oh, Tom! The way you look at her! You absolutely adore her, don't you?"

"It's that obvious?" I felt my cheeks blazing.

Kellie was about to answer when Brian, Hayleigh, and the others rejoined the table. Hayleigh plopped down on her seat next to mine and took a big sip of her fresh Whiskey Sour. Hayleigh's free hand immediately found mine, intertwining our fingers before drawing herself close to me. Kellie's eyes flitted to our joined hands, and she gave me a knowing look. We all sat out the next few songs, until our DJ, Tahj, announced that the next song was to be the last for the evening.

"Miss Fredrickson, may I have the honor of this dance?"

"I saved it for you, good sir."

As we headed away from the table, Art Garfunkel's cover of I Only Have Eyes for You wafted across the dance floor. Kellie was right; Hayleigh melted into me like a key slipping into a lock. Neither of disengaged after the music stopped.

"Thank you, Hayleigh Michelle."

"Thank you, Thomas James."

As we were about to head back to the table, I saw Kellie talking to Tahj at his DJ stand. Hayleigh noticed too, and gave me a puzzled look. Kellie winked at us as she headed back to the table.

"By special request, one more!" Tahj announced. "Don't miss this one."

Elvis Presley's Can't Help Falling in Love filled the air. Hayleigh blushed as other couples joined us on the makeshift dance floor. I'd guess about another three couples joined us, but I was too wrapped up in the moment to be sure. The King was speaking to me. More than than, he was speaking for me.

After that final dance most everyone stuck around to chat and drink, before heading off to our staterooms around 1:00 a. m. When we got to ours, Hayleigh remembered that she left her shawl in the main salon. I told her to get changed while I retrieved it. Unfortunately, it took me a while to find it, and when I returned to our stateroom Hayleigh was already in bed and sleeping soundly. When I slipped into the bed I found Hayleigh naked but completely zoned out. I had hoped to get some loving that she had teased me about earlier, but was more than contented with spooning behind her. Plenty of time to play in the morning.

I didn't have to wait until morning. I awoke around 4:00 a. m., still spooning. It took me a few moments to realize that she had my growing cock in her hand, and she was rubbing my helmet through her folds. She eased the first inches inside, then wiggled her hips until I was all the way in. Me moved together silently until I felt her pussy spasming, bringing me to my own climax. Instead of uncoupling, she pushed herself back into me, and brought me free hand up to her chest to rest in the valley between her tits. That's the last thing I remembered, until I awoke with the sun blazing into our stateroom through the window.

~~~@~~~@~~~

That's it for Part 6. Part 7 will pick up on Friday morning, the second day of the yachting trip. And to those who have followed me after my first submission, V is for Victory-Not!, thank you all for your generous words and support, and for your thoughtful critiques.