Chapter 7

We lay there for ten minutes after we finished having amazing sex, just breathing. Then she got up and put on the same clothes.

"I hope dinner didn't burn," she said, worried.

"It was worth it if it did," I said.

"Thank you, Sir," she dimpled. "Let's eat, and then I want to go swimming again."

"That reminds me," I said. "I need to tell you what I told them about us."

"You told them about us?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I had to tell them something. You were like a bomb, landing right in front of them," I said.

"Me?" she scoffed.

"Well, I had something to do with it," I said.

"Come eat and you can tell me all about it," she said. "I'm starving. Sex is hard work."

"Not so loud," I moaned.

"So you didn't tell them we were lovers, and that you're trying to get me pregnant?" She grinned.

"I gave mixed messages," I said.

"Oh my," she said. "All I did was flirt with the boys."

"You played your role perfectly," I said. "I was the one who almost screwed things up."

"Well, you just screwed one thing up," she said. She grinned again. "Me!"

I know she was trying to be cute.

But all I could think of was the Titanic, hitting that iceberg.

Over stew (which hadn't burned, by the way) I told her about how everybody in the pool had been aware of my erection, and described my conversation with Tony. She laughed.

"Do all men have dirty minds?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, firmly.

"I guess I should have taken care of that boner before we went swimming after all," she said, smiling. "Sorry."

"I think it turned out okay," I said. "Thanks to your performance. Which was brilliant, I might add."

"We women know how to act in situations like that," she said, adopting a superior tone.

"You do, indeed." I wasn't going to get into a gender based argument.

"So, do you want me to flirt with some of the boys tonight?" she asked.

"I told them you have a boyfriend, and were going to live with him at college," I said.

"Yes, but a girl might want to have a last fling before being tied down by one guy," she said, throatily.

I stared at her. "You're dangerous, you know that?"

"That's what Mom says," she smiled. "You know what she said to me as I got on the plane to come visit you?"

"No, what?"

"She said, 'Don't be too hard on your uncle.'"

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just sat and looked at her.

"Don't you think that sounds odd?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said. "It sounds like something any parent might say."

"Yes, to a ten year old," she suggested. "But I haven't been ten for almost eight years."

"So what do you think it meant?" I asked.

"I think she knows how I feel about you," she said.

"What? No way," I said.

"I think she does," said Kat. She knows I'm not romantically interested in any boys my age. You're the only man I want to spend time with, other than Daddy."

"Then why would she let you come see me?" I asked.

"Maybe she thinks how I feel about you is ... okay," she said.

"Impossible," I replied. "There's no way she would agree to what we just did in that tent. Rather, I think she trusts me not to indulge your little crush."

"It's not a little crush!" she said, heat entering her voice.

"I know that," I said, holding up one hand to stop her. "But that's what your mother thinks it is."

"I hope not," said Caitlin. "That would be bad."

"Why?"

"Because if she doesn't mind me loving you, it will make it a lot easier to tell her I'm going to find a way to live with you forever."

After supper we went back to the pool again. A lot of other people had done the same thing, which wasn't odd when you consider it had topped a hundred and seventeen degrees that day. This time Kat wore a pair of her own running shorts and a T shirt, instead of the bikini. But she still had to get undressed to put them on, so I got a blow job anyway.

Tony wasn't there, but two other guys introduced themselves to us, and that led to other introductions, and the obligatory disclosure of much more information than strangers usually exchange. But, as I said earlier, people who gravitate toward the camping life tend to be a nicer class of folks. Even if you use an RV, camping is a lot of work, so the lazy, shiftless, uncaring kind of person is rarely found in a campground.

A couple of the wives were stand offish to Caitlin, initially, but she overcame that with her natural bubbly personality. All but one of the boys her age were back at the campsites, probably playing video games, or texting their friends or whatever. The lone wolf who was at the pool wandered over towards us, where we now stood in a group of six. I could see that he was trying to work up the courage to talk to her, and having a tough time at that. It turned out, though, that two of the six in our group were his parents, and when one of them said, "Jeff, did you know Caitlin is from Santa Barbara and surfs?" that gave him his entry point. He was from Lompoc and went surfing as often as he could. Soon they were standing a few feet away, speaking what sounded like a foreign language.

A guy named George announced that beer was needed, and said he had a cooler full at his campsite. With the setting of the sun, it had gotten cooler fast and just during the short time we'd been in the pool, it was uncomfortably chilly when we got out.

So there was a dash back to the tent to get into dry clothing.

Which led to Kat being naked.

And somehow she ended up on the sleeping bags, and I must have tripped or something, because I fell down and got my face stuck between her legs. She could cum that way, but it usually took a while, because when I was licking her quim she was never in a hurry for it to be over. So eventually she pulled me up, reached for my cock, and fed it to her hungry pussy. Making her cum that way was child's play. All I had to do was go in deep and then move sideways, or in circles, and she'd pop like a too-thin balloon.

Which is why, when we finally showed up at George and Nancy Carpenter's campsite, she had a pussy full of spunk.

"Where you been?" asked George, boisterously, handing us each a can of beer. I winced inside, but didn't say anything. Kat popped the top like a pro and took a sip. It was just one more thing for Hannah to yell at me about if she ever found out.

Then again, when compared with having wild, passionate sex with, and filling her baby girl up with sperm, a beer kind of paled to insignificance.

"We can't both change clothes at the same time!" yipped Caitlin. "Uncle Bob is a nice guy and all that, but I've seen him look at women and under that cool exterior, I have suspicions he might be a dirty old man."

There were several snorts of laughter. A couple of the men looked at me with pity in their eyes.

"Honey," said a woman we'd never met before, "they're all dirty old men when you peel away a few layers of civilization."

"I know!" said Caitlin, making it into a yelp. "That's why I've given serious thought to being a lesbian!"

One man spewed beer and started coughing. There was laughter, but it was uncertain laughter, and the mood suddenly became nervously tense.

"But I've got a good boyfriend," said Caitlin, apparently unaware she had said something a little outrageous. "As long as he keeps behaving himself, I think I'll keep him."

That relaxed things again. Kat sat down on an upended section of log and started sipping her beer. There were half a dozen lawn chairs free, positioned around the camp fire. Some kids were toasting marshmallows, making S'mores.

I ended up sitting beside a woman named Cathy, who I recognized from the pool earlier in the evening. Her husband was on the other side of her in one of those new zero gravity chairs. He was taking slugs from a pint bottle of bourbon, rather than drinking beer, though there were three empty beer cans lying on the ground between him and Cathy. As I looked past Cathy at him, I saw him tip the bottle up, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"So," said Cathy, leaning toward me. "You're single?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Seems a shame," she observed.

"I guess I just haven't found the right woman," I said, using the standard line that usually ended that thread of conversation.

"So you're not gay?" asked Cathy, boldly.

"No," I chuckled.

A man named Terry told a joke, and that led to remembering campfire stories from people's youth, and time passed. Caitlin finished her beer and got up to dispose of the can. As if she'd done it a thousand times, she went to the cooler, opened it, and pulled out another one. She sat down in a vacant lawn chair across the fire from me and opened it. The woman sitting next to her spoke to her and they had a conversation I couldn't hear.

Time passed and eventually one of the women said it was time for "us" to go to bed. She and her husband stood, which led to another couple saying they were moving on the next day, and needed to get to bed too.

Cathy leaned over to me again.

"My husband is drunk," she said, in that voice that suggests she says that a lot. "Do you think you could help me get him back to our RV?"

I looked past her at the man in question. He was tipped back in the zero gravity chair and snoring.

"We can probably get him there," I said, judging the man to be somewhere around a hundred and seventy pounds.

"I'll make it worth your while," she said, softly.

Her meaning was crystal clear, even before she added, "It must be hard, a single man like you, with natural needs, around a little hottie you can't have, like your niece. You need to blow off some steam and I do too."

Now I don't want to sound like I'm tooting my own horn or anything, but I had been in this situation before. What I mean by that is that a few women had expressed interest in a sexual relationship, who happened to be women I wasn't really interested in having a sexual relationship with. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with Cathy. She was a nice looking woman. I admit, in fact, that she had very interesting looking breasts.

But as I said before, when I get to that stage of things, it's because I really like the woman and want to take the relationship somewhere based on commitment. And I barely knew Cathy. Not to mention the fact she was married.

I had developed a way of avoiding this situation, and had used it several times in the past with complete success. And that was to tell the woman that, because of a sports injury I had suffered, I was taking medication that rendered my male parts incapable of participating in the kind of games they wanted to play. I would thank them, and take a rain check, and then make sure I didn't take them out again.

But Cathy had been in the pool, and had seen the very obvious proof that such a story would be a bald faced lie. And I'm not that quick on my feet, in terms of coming up with some other reason why I didn't intend to accept her offer. Of course I could just tell her I wasn't interested, but flat rejection, without some kind of reason, just seems harsh, somehow.

It was then that I learned a valuable lesson in life.

Women have some kind of radar, or sonar, or something, that lets them know that another woman is poaching in their forest.

Caitlin appeared at my elbow.