Chapter 17

Saturday, May 26

Arlene Jenson was wearing a blue knee-length wraparound dress that hugged her figure without being too tight.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” she said, dropping the Southern Belle schtick she’d employed at the pool. “You clean up pretty well.”

I thought she was laying it on a bit thick. I was wearing the basics — khakis, polo, deck shoes sans socks.

“Morgan and Kacie wanted to go to the teen lounge,” I said. “I was assigned escort duty.”

“So,” Arlene said, sliding in a little closer, “what’s the story with you and Morgan? She seemed rather possessive in front of those other girls.”

“I’m taking her to the picnic, but we haven’t really dated yet,” I said, and went on to explain as much as I knew of the situation, leaving out the bits about me and Kacie.

“She was showing those other girls what they can’t have,” Arlene said, slipping an arm through mine and turning us back down the hall. “That suit didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. It was quite the attention grabber.”

“I was ready to put both of them over my knee and might do it yet,” I said as we strolled along, not paying attention to just where we were going.

“I can see that they are a handful,” Arlene said. “I had a friend like that when I was their age, the ringleader who got everyone to go along with all kinds of crazy schemes.”

“That’s Kacie and Morgan,” I said. “But I find it hard to believe that you weren’t the ringleader in your crowd.”

“You say the sweetest things,” she said, pressing into my arm. “No wonder those girls are all panting for it. You could pretty much take your pick.”

“And then run for my life when it all comes crashing down,” I said. “They all know my sister and my sister knows where I sleep. That’s one reason I never asked any of them out before. I don’t do drama very well.”

“Then you need to take control of the situation,” she said, “take a firm hand with them. Like you said, put them over your knee. Show them who’s boss. They’ll just keep pushing until you push back.”

I suddenly noticed we were walking down the cart path past the 18th green. I didn’t even remember stepping outside. I had no idea what this woman was up to.

“That sounds good in theory,” I said, “but my experience has been the girl sets the pace. I just try to keep from being confronted by angry dads. I’ve seen what happens with guys who forced the issue and it’s never pretty.”

“I understand,” Arlene said. “I’ve been on the receiving end of unwanted attention plenty of times. You just have to figure out when it’s wanted.”

At that point, I realized we were standing at an open service gate on the back fence of the pool complex. I could see the cabana where we’d spent the day less than 50 yards away with Arlene’s just beyond.

“Why don’t we have a little refreshment,” she said, leaving me with no doubt what she was up to. “I’ve taken No. 16 for the summer.”

What the hell, I thought. Morgan said the woman was mine for the taking, I may as well take.

I let Arlene lead me up the steps and through the sliding door to be greeted by the hum of a window unit. The cabanas were outfitted with one ceiling light, but Arlene had added a couple of floor lamps on either end of the couch. She clicked the near one on as I closed the door and pulled the privacy curtain across.

“There are some drinks in the fridge,” she said, taking a seat on the couch.

I stepped into the kitchenette and took a look. She had a bottle of white wine, which had already been opened, as well as bottled water and assorted sodas.

“What will you have?” I asked.

“Pour me a glass of the Riesling, please. You can have one, too.”

“I’d better not,” I said, grabbing the bottle and a cup. I settled for a 7-Up. “My mother has a way of sensing that kind of thing. She always seems to know whenever one of us kids is up to something.”

I related the tale of Mom’s suspicions about Kacie and catching my sister sunning in the skimpy bikini.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t dragged me out of here by my ear yet,” I said, handing Arlene her wine and taking a seat beside her.

“My mom was the same way when I was that age,” she said. “It’s a wonder I ever lost my virginity.”

“I’m sure there’s a tale there,” I said, resting my arm along the back of the couch.

“And what’s your tale?” Arlene asked, turning to lean in closer. The stalking tigress image flashed in my mind again. I was pretty sure this one was a man-eater.

“Pure as the driven snow, as far as my mother knows,” I said. “I don’t tell tales I wouldn’t want told about me.”

“Good,” she said, leaning in for a kiss. Yep, man-eater.

I broke the kiss long enough to set our drinks on the coffee table, then pulled her into my arms to resume.

I didn’t try to force things. I didn’t need to. Arlene was moving fast enough that it was tough to keep up.

“Somebody’s been giving you lessons,” she said as I worked my way down the side of her neck to her collarbone.

“You make it sound like a bad thing,” I said. “Were you expecting to play Mrs. Robinson to my Ben?”

Yes, I am fully aware of the irony there. My mom was quick to turn off any radio playing the Simon and Garfunkel song when I was younger. Dad said his mother reacted much the same way. I can only imagine what life was like for women named Robinson when that movie first came out 50 years ago.

“I just wasn’t expecting you to be this advanced,” she said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, getting back to work.

It didn’t take long before Arlene stepped things up, pulling my shirt out of my pants and over my head.

“You work out,” she said, kissing her way across my chest.

“I help Jed with his training,” I gasped. “I have to do a certain amount just to avoid getting hurt.”

Arlene started on my belt and pants, slipping to the floor as she pulled my slacks and boxers all the way off. I kicked out of my shoes to make it easier for her.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she said as my dick popped free, “seeing how you filled out that Speedo. I bet Morgan is a happy girl.”

With that, she inhaled me. While Kacie had nascent skill and enthusiasm, Arlene Jenson had experience and talent borne of years of practice. She didn’t deep throat me, but she didn’t have to. I knew I wouldn’t last long and didn’t try, groaning as I flooded her mouth.

“Ummm, somebody’s been drinking their pineapple juice,” she said. I suppose I should thank my sister for starting me on that program.

Arlene stood and untied the string holding her dress closed and shrugged out of the garment, draping it over the coffee table. She looked incredible in her lingerie. Arlene unfastened her bra, dropping it on top of her dress, and sat back down beside me. Yes, her breasts had been augmented. So what?

After a bit of fondling and sucking, I took the honor of removing her panties as I knelt between her thighs, exposing a little landing strip that was the same coppery red as the hair on her head. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of an aroused woman. It was somehow spicier than Kacie’s aroma. I couldn’t wait to compare it to Morgan’s.