Chapter 12: A Cookout and the Beach Story

Something woke me up; the bed moved, and someone walked behind me, so I turned to look, and no one was there. I looked behind me, and Liz was under the covers. I must be dreaming because I was so drunk, so I spooned her and passed out again.

The sun was up when I awoke; the time was 7:41 by my watch, and I was sporting a lovely length of morning wood. I pulled the covers down, revealing her two beautiful butt cheeks, and my left hand slid between them, feeling for moisture. Happily, the answer was, Houston, we have lubrication, and I lined little Marty up to Liz’s warm, sweet honey pot and slid his head into the cavern of love.

Liz moaned, but I didn’t think she was awake yet. She was rotating her hips, so I slipped another inch inside.

A sleepy voice broke the silence, “Is that you poking me, Marty?”

Bottoming out was my answer; making the small head flex and twitch was being mean. Then, before I could answer Liz, I heard Dianna’s voice from the kitchen, “Knock first, Momma.”

And in the blink of an eyelid, the bedroom door opened, and Momma came in talking, “Get up, you two...” Then silence.

I froze because she couldn’t see my butt if I didn’t move. Talk about a stupid thought process. I should have grabbed the blanket. If I rolled on my back to hide my butt, something would be pointing at Jupiter.

“Oh my, I haven’t seen that since you were twelve, and I walked in on you peeping through Dixies’ window at Linda Fairchild in the pool, and you were, um, busy.”

“MOMMA. TMI.”

“I keep hearing that, and I’m unfamiliar with that term, Martin.”

“Two much information, Momma. Do you think you could leave and close the door behind you?”

“Oh my, I told you to knock, Momma.”

“DIANNA. Oh my God! Who else is out there?”

“Just your father and Joe.”

Joe was trying hard not to laugh, and Dad cleared his throat.

“Anyway, the reason I barged in was to tell you breakfast is ready.” Silence settled over the house for a few seconds, and then she finished, “Well, I think we can leave the room now.”

I heard the door close, then laughing and giggling from the hallway, and my wood had turned into a soggy noodle.

Liz asked, “Aren’t you going to finish what you started?”

“Haw, haw, haw. Shit, I’m gonna hear about this for a while.”

“Let’s go eat. I’m hungry, and I want breakfast now, Marty. I’ll take care of that thing tonight.”

And so I ate in silence in the dining room with a red face, listening to smart ass quips such as adorable dimples, chubby cheeks, and smiley face butt crack.

The cookout began when Dad fired up his grill as people started dropping by. Ruth and Jason showed up at 1:15, and Liz and Momma fought over who got to hold the baby. Not long after that, Uncle Bob and family arrived, and Larry, my youngest cousin, made a beeline toward me.

“Marty, can I talk to you privately for a minute.”

“Sure, Larry.” He followed me to the front yard, and I wasn’t paying attention to what he talked about.

“I guess you know I’m heavy into computers and also do work for Dad and Uncle Alex.”

“Uh-huh, Larry.”

“Marty, I need a custom system for the work I do for my Dad and the company. But he won’t let me spend company money on a machine I put anything personal on. I work from home and don’t have enough space for two complete systems in my room. I tried explaining about partitions or even two separate hard drives, and he refused to listen.”

I was paying attention now as I had thoughts regarding computers when I started working for Stevens A&D after graduating.

“Sure, I surf the Internet and play RPGs, and sometimes I even go to sites with poor reputations, but I use encrypted connections through secure VPNs and have the top antivirus software available. If I buy an off-the-shelf system for myself, I’ll have to replace it every eight to ten months. Building a custom box to share, I can get two, maybe three years out of it.”

“When did you want this to happen?”

“In January, on my birthday. I’m hoping I can network the family into giving me cash, but I’m still going to be short.”

“Don’t say anything to the family, and see me at Christmas. We’ll talk then.”

We ate, drank, and everyone but me told butt jokes as we dug into burgers and hot dogs. Then, after Momma served dessert, vanilla ice cream, and chocolate syrup, Jason asked me to tell the uncensored version of what happened between Ruth and me the week of Dianna’s wedding.

Momma looked at me and asked, “Did I not get the whole story, Martin?”

“Momma, you are always the first to get the truth.”

Like playing musical chairs at a birthday party, everyone grabbed a seat and quickly quieted down.

So, I began telling the tale of Ensign Joe and Princess Dianna’s magical wedding in the enchanted forest of Greenville. And those who were part of the story added stuff I forgot, and Dianna got huffy because she didn’t know I used her credit card and stole money from her stash. But, when I started to tell the details of Wednesday’s trip to the beach at the lake, everyone got real quiet.

“I parked on the road by the beach house, and we walked down to the lake; Ruth was wearing a Grateful Dead t-shirt and Dianna’s white shorts, which were really tight, a big wide brim sun hat she brought to the wedding, and when we reached the sand, she had a weird smile on her face.

I got everyone’s attention and introduced Ruth to my friends. She acknowledged everyone with a wave of her hand before turning away from the lake, bending over, and slowly spreading her towel on the sand. With every movement tantalizingly exaggerated, she rolled her hips as she slowly turned around and popped the snap on her shorts. Watching Ruth slide the zipper down, one tiny tooth at a time, every mouth was hanging open, tongues out dropping saliva on the sand. She had to go slow because her bikini bottom was less than a thong and...”

“Marty, it was not that tiny; I bought my two-piece at JC Penney on sale and even tried it on in the store to show my mom.”

“Gosh, Ruth, maybe I took another girl there at some point and got you two mixed up in my mind. Now may I continue with my sordid tale of lust and decadence?”

“MARTY!”

“I’ll take that as an affirmative response and continue. Where was I?”

“You were at the point where Ruth was taking off her shorts in front of hundreds of people.”

“JASON?”

“Ah, yes, I remember. I looked around, and everyone was staring at Ruth; Chase, Greg, Toby, Dennis, Vince, Carol, Ellie, Chase’s parents, his married sister, and her husband. In addition, the three hundred people in the vicinity using the lake stopped their boats and dropped anchor, and C-47s belonging to the 82nd Airborne flew over us as paratroopers jumped out of the planes, pushing and shoving, all trying to get a better look...”

A shoe hit my chest, “Martin Robert Lawrence Stevens! Tell them you are exaggerating.” Ruth was trying hard not to laugh. No one seemed to notice she knew my full name.

“Okay, you’re correct; Chase doesn’t have a sister. Anyway, Ruth stared at Chase standing knee-deep in the water, licked her lips with the tip of her tongue, and I swear she took a whole minute to circle her mouth with that tongue. Chase fell backward and almost drowned. Men clutched their chests, and women had that ‘Well, I never’ look while they were all thinking, ‘I wish I had a body like that.’ Chase’s mom passed out and fell face down in the sand, and Mr. DeLong had to roll her over before she suffocated. Finally, the shorts hit the sand while helicopters circled overhead and drug-sniffing dogs roamed the beach.”

I took a deep breath, “Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s kind of boring.”

More shoes flew at me, and people threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t continue.

“Ruth dropped the hat upside down, reached down, and slowly pulled the large t-shirt over her head.” I drew out the word slowly for five or six seconds. “Inch by inch, she revealed her bikini bottom first, a piece of black dental floss, then her cute puckered naval with a drop of sweat inside glistening in the sun, and finally, the two black triangles barely covering her nipples. The amount of cloth on her body was barely enough to keep a mouse warm on a typical August morning. Finally, she dropped the shirt on the sand and reached into her bag, taking out a bottle of sunscreen, SPF fifty. As she lay down on her towel, she said, ‘My dearest Martin, would you be so kind as to put this sunscreen lotion on my body to protect me from the ravaging rays of the sun?’”