Chapter 5

Well out to sea on our second morning aboard ship, we had an early breakfast in one of the ship’s informal breakfast bars,

After which Emily thought we ought to sun ourselves on the upper deck’s private area. There was no pool up there, just a large open area filled with chaise lounge chairs and liberal supplies of oversized fluffy white towels.

“I checked it out yesterday afternoon,” Emily told me. “About half of the people up there were nude.”

“Well, let’s go for it,” I said. “Maybe we’re Americans, but we’re not Baptists, right?”

We got naked in the cabin, put on our robes, gathered up a bag full of the kind of junk one takes along to the beach, and found our way topside. It was only 11 a.m., but the place was full of people – mostly naked – and we had to wend our way through the throng to find two unoccupied lounge chairs. On the way, I spotted the other odd couple we’d seen the night before in the dining room – an older man, distinguished looking with a very expensive haircut, and a young girl, roughly my age, traveling with him.

Older men with much younger women were perhaps far more commonplace in such a setting as were Emily and I, but they stood out, not only for the age difference but for their distinguishing features. The man was tall, broad-shouldered and quite muscular. He was gray-haired and clearly at least fifty years of age, but well-preserved. I also noticed he was well-hung.

His youthful companion was long-limbed, had small but well-formed breasts, fiery red hair both on her head and on her well-trimmed pudenda, and a very frank, penetrating stare as she sat up straight to watch Emily and me draw closer. She made it obvious that she was checking me out with some care, and spent several seconds with her eyes focused directly on my groin.

I felt the beginnings of an erection that I could only hope wasn’t obvious.

We found a place only a short distance from the man and his young companion, and began arranging our towels on the lounge chairs. I couldn’t resist another look over to the red-headed nymph and when I did, I found that she was still staring my way.

I tried to get her out of my thoughts as Emily and I relaxed among the other, mostly nude sunbathers. “You look great in your birthday suit,” I murmured to Emily, drawing a tight smile.

Emily’s eyes were closed, but she leaned close to my ear and said, “See any shaved pussies?”

“I’m trying to be cool, and pretending not to look,” I whispered back. “Maybe someone will take us for a couple of Europeans.”

“Not with that circumcised dick of yours,” she said. “Most of the European men are uncut.”

“Maybe they’ll think I’m Jewish,” I said.

“Anything’s possible,” Emily said, giggling.

I risked another look at the redhead, and found that she and her older companion were both looking our way and talking.

After a short time, the redhead got up, walked toward us and stopped alongside Emily. “Excuse me,” she said in accented English. “My father would like to know if you would enjoy a bit of Cabernet Franc? We have glasses. It is excellent wine – Chateau Troplong Mondot.” The descriptive phrase, meaningless to me, was trippingly pronounced in perfect French. The girl waited expectantly for Emily’s response.

“It’s scarcely 11 in the morning,” Emily said. “Isn’t it a little early for wine?”

“We are in the middle of the ocean,” the girl replied, “and in Paris, it is five o’clock.”

“A glass of wine would be perfect,” I answered for both of us. “Please ask your father if we could join you.”

“You are most welcome to join us,” the girl said. “Bring your chairs, and we shall make room.”

I watched her gorgeous little butt twitch as she turned and walked away. “What have you gotten us into?” Emily said.

“Cabernet Franc,” I said. “From Chateau Something-or-other. Probably not available at Walgreens.” Picking up my towel-laden lounge chair, I began the short trek to where the suave Frenchman and his “daughter” awaited. “Leave your chair,” I told Emily. “I’ll come back for it.”

As soon as the four of us were situated in a little circle, the Frenchman introduced himself. “It was kind of you to join us. I am Charles Pelietier, and this is my daughter, Adrienne.”

“Emily Chambers,” Emily said, “and this is Randy Sinclair.”

“Your stepson?” Pelietier asked Emily. “The two of you do not share a name?”

“My traveling companion,” Emily said. “We are not related.”

Pelietier poured the wine and distributed the glasses. “You make a handsome couple,” Pelietier said.

“As do you and your ... daughter,” I said.

Pelietier laughed. “You think that Adrienne is not my daughter, but my mistress? Ahh, that would be very French, would it not? But, alas, she is in fact my daughter. It was her suggestion that I offer you a glass. That we all get acquainted.”

“This is excellent wine, Mr. Pelietier,” Emily said.

“I’m pleased that you like it. Please call me Charles.”

“What I propose,” Pelietier said, is that this evening, I accompany you, Madame Chambers, to dinner, and that young Mr. Sinclair have dinner with my daughter. They make a handsome couple, don’t you think?”