Chapter 1

I pulled our car through the open stern of the ferry and parked where I was directed. The ferry wasn't crowded today. My wife Sarah and I had been visiting the island for almost a decade, after we discovered it our first summer together. Some years the cars were packed so closely together that it was hard to open the car doors enough to squeeze out and get to the stairs.

Sarah carried our wool blanket, and I carried our shoulder bags. We hurried up to the open observation deck. A tattered Canadian flag stirred in the light sea breeze. It was very warm here at the landing, but hard experience taught us that it was never warm on the open water.

A horn blew and the tail ramp started to lift and close. I took Sarah by the hand and said, "Come on baby, let's go get a good place to sit." We found an empty bench behind the boat's superstructure, which gave us some protection from the breeze. Sarah flapped the blanket open, and we sat down, snuggling close to each other. She buried her hands under the blanket and rested her head on my chest just above my breasts.

I smiled at her and bent my head to kiss her lovingly. Even after ten years, I was passionately in love with her, and still deeply aroused by her beauty. She's deliciously girlie, with a sleek body, a tight, gorgeous butt, and long Barbie-doll legs. Her dark blonde hair hangs just beyond her shoulders, though today she was wearing it up in a loose bun. She has a delightful, impish smile, especially when she's being naughty. I'm definitely not a bad looking woman myself, but I'm not in her league. I'm very proud of the fact that I weigh no more than I did when I graduated from high school almost twenty-five years ago. I still don't have any gray streaks in my curly auburn hair, and Sarah tells me I have beautiful dimples when I smile.

The ferry shuddered and backed out of it's slip. We were off on the ninety minute crossing. We watched the passengers coming and going, speculating whether or not it was their first trip to the island. Those without jackets were almost certainly first-timers. I perked up and took notice when two young girls came on deck, laughing and chattering with each other like magpies. They looked to be about 16, and they were both gorgeous in the way only slim teenaged girls can be. They both had lithe young bodies, and sweet, perky faces; one had long honey blonde hair, and the other dark brown hair about the same color as mine piled atop her head. They both wore short shorts and one piece hoodies. The honey blonde girl was wearing an orthopedic walking boot, as though she'd broken her ankle or had some sort of surgery. Uh oh, I thought, they were going to regret those shorts in a few minutes.

Whatever her disability was, it didn't seem to bother the blonde girl. She and her friend were bubbly and animated, all touchy and huggy in the way teenage girls are with their friends. Maybe it was my imagination, but damn, it looked like there was more than teenage girl BFF affection going on. When the girl with the boot got up, her friend helped her stand, and acted like a crutch when she walked.

They went to the rail to take a look, discovered just how cold it was, and came back to the relative shelter of the bench kitty-corner from us. They scrunched together against the cold, still giggling and animated. One of them took out her phone, and they brought their heads together, smiling brightly, so the girl with the phone – blondie – could take their picture.

Sarah jabbed me with her elbow. "Look at those two honeys," she said softly. She knew I had a thing for teenage girls. "Look how cute they are."

I couldn't take my eyes off them. "Cute hell," I said under my breath. "Those little sweeties are hot!"

"They look like little lezzabelles."

"You think?" I said. Was it possible? Well hell, even if they were, what of it?

"Oh yeah," Sarah said, eyeing them closely. She's always been better than me at pickking up on that. "Bet you'd love to get your hands on them. I know I damn sure would."

"Since when are you interested in robbing the cradle?"

"Since I saw these little hotties."

Sarah didn't lift her head from my chest, so when the girls shyly looked our way, they clearly saw we were a lesbian couple. Sarah, always bolder and more willing to take risks than me, smiled brightly at them. The girls blushed furiously, giggled and self-consciously looked away, but not until they flashed us sweet, shy smiles.

They both stole looks at us from under their eyelashes. Suddenly, Sarah lifted her head and pushed her mouth against mine. She caught me by surprise, but I recovered and got her drift. I kissed her back, savoring her sweet mouth.

Sarah pulled her lips back, then I slipped in a few wet smacks. We pretended to be oblivious to the girls. Sarah settled back, smiling up at me. "I love you," I said, smiling back.

"I love you," she murmured, her eyes sparkling. "You okay if I take a little risk? Nothing serious."

"You're bad," I whispered with a smile, my way of saying Go for it.

She waited a minute for the girls to digest seeing us kiss so brazenly. They seemed to snuggle ever closer together, still trying to look at us secretly. Finally, Sarah raised her voice and said, "You girls look cold."

They giggled self-consciously, but Miss Brunette answered, "Yeah, it's a lot colder then we expected. It was really warm when we got on."

"It's always cold out on the water, even if it's hot on land," I said.

"We shoulda worn pants. Or brought a blanket," Blondie said. "No one told us it'd be cold."

Sarah laughed. "You want to get under our blanket? There's plenty of room."

The girls both covered their mouths and snickered. They looked at each other as though communicating with their eyes. Then Blondie said, "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," Sarah answered. "We hate to see you freezing."

They looked at each other again, shrugged, and Miss Brunette said, "Sure, that'd be cool. Or warm," and they both giggled at her small, unintentional joke.

Sarah slid over so there was a gap between us for the girls to sit. My heart speeded up and I felt a tightening sensation in my chest. The girls were clearly a little unsure of themselves, but it seemed natural when they shifted positions so the blonde girl with the boot sat next to me, and the auburn haired girl sat next to Sarah. Once wrapped in the blanket, the girls both cooed their thanks and delight at how much nicer it was all covered up.

"By the way ladies," I offered. "I guess if we're going to share a blanket, we probably ought to know each others names. I'm Victoria, but everyone calls me Vicki, and that's my beautiful wife Sarah, but everyone calls her Sarah."

They laughed politely at my lame joke, but both girls' eyes widened. "You're wife?" Blondie said, looking first at Sarah, then me. "You mean you two are, like, married?" When I looked at her up close, my heart surged. I could smell the clean scent of her shampoo. Her features were fine, delicate and lovely, and her wide, guileless hazel eyes were almost hauntingly beautiful. They were eyes that could freeze me like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.