Chapter 31

It is an axiom of life: Horny girls and horny boys make babies ... in 1963. However, a modern, right thinking, twenty-two year old girl from 1988 will be on the pill. By the way ... Horny ... hormonal ... how about that.

"Professor Slagle? Taking my life in my hands, I beg your indulgence," said David.

They were putting away the beer. Big boats have room for extras ... like a nice, big, propane powered fridge ... in this case, a walk in cooler. It was behind the bar in the salon.

Boats this size were intended to have large, paid crews ... deck hands, engine room engineers, a captain, a first mate, maids, and stewards. Heaven forbid that the family ... and friends ... of the type of people who can afford to drop a few million on a hole in the water that gets used three or four times a year, 'entertaining' do anything except lay about. Tanning, teasing and tempting should, and rightly so, be the year long occupation of trophy wives and the spoiled children of the rich.

The crew usually exceeded the passengers 1.2 to one. Ten guests need twelve crew to look after them. They are, generally, college students working for next years tuition ... young, beautiful or handsome and smart ... don't forget well paid.

Kings Knight had a crew ... three girls ... Andrea, Julie, Wendolyn Junior. Three boys ... David and the twins. Owner, captain and crew. Three girls made beds, cooked and cleaned inside. Three boys polished brass, minded the engine room, did the dishes and paid attention to the general running of the boat. Young, beautiful or handsome and smart ... and unpaid. Indulged but not paid.

David was about to step over an undeclared line and indulge in a personal indulgence.

Andrea looked up from struggling to get that last case of cream ale under the cooler shelf, "Yes?"

"I know this seems nearly impossible, but there is a restaurant here that equals Frank and Ernie's Antler in Pentwater. It's actually quite famous and I have secured a table for two. I would love to take you to dinner."

David looked 'apprehensive.' A great many things depended on her answer.

She stood up, brushed her hair back from her face and looked.

Who knows what runs through the female mind? How she makes the decisions she makes and comes to conclusions that are far beyond the scope of the question? David sure didn't.

Andrea looked at the backs of her hands, they were red, scratched and unpolished. She was sweaty ... not glistening ... she stunk. But her mind was in her closet ... did she have anything suitable? Yes! she did. Then there was David ... handsome in a craggy sort of way, not tall. He had small feet but huge shoulders ... blond, ice blue eyes, weatherbeaten ... not an indulged man. A working man's man. Older ... but he had all his hair and teeth. Her pussy spritzed.

"How long have you had these reservations?"

"I radioed them before we got here."

"What time?"

"Oh, early afternoon."

"No ... what time are the reservations?" 'Idiot!'

He looked at his watch..."Um..." 'This could get tricky.' "Fifteen minutes."

She exploded. There can be no other explaination ... she must have exploded. She was standing there and then she was gone. Trailing behind her ... besides clothes ... he heard, "Just like a man ... Idiot ... fifteen minutes ... God ... the things I put up with." Then she shouted, "Yes."

David jerked, his shoulders swallowed his neck. He followed along, picking up jumper, shoes, pants, panties, hairband. 'Hmm? No bra or girdle. Interesting.'

The laundry hamper was on the way to his cabin ... he dropped off his clothes on the fly. Shower, a quick one. He had the advantage ... his clothes were already laid out on his bunk. Well ... he had laid them out..."Junior!"

"Yes Captain?" She thrust open his door, "Oops." She slammed it again. "What?"

"My clothes..."

"I put them in the laundry."

"You washed them?"

"Yes."

"Dried in the dryer?"

"Yes."

"Shit and fall back in it! They were dry-clean only."

"I found that out ... after. They look funny."

"Oh God!"

It is unknown how she did it ... women are always late ... it's in the manual, page 193; paragraph two: 'Be late.' Women have been studying the manual since conception. Men do not get a copy.

"David?" she asked at his door. "I'm ready."

"I'm not."

"You're not?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Junior stepped around the companionway. "I washed his clothes," she confessed. Trying for a little redemption, she said, "They were on the bunk ... clothes on the bunk get washed ... it's in my job description."

Andrea started to laugh..."Dry clean only?" she choked out.

"Yeppers. Nobody has dry clean only clothes on a boat ... they get wet."

"Let me guess ... dryer?"

"UhHuh."

When she caught her breath, Andrea pushed her way off the bulkhead, "They shrunk."

"Oh yeah. Monkey suit, now." Junior was having a difficult time keeping a serious face while she demonstrated the size with her hands.

David's door opened, he looked 'presentable.' "I can not believe it," he said, "I still fit my Frat Blazer. And slacks."

"You still have them?"

He spun. "Yup. Not bad."

"Pretty good," Andrea said. Her pussy spritzed.

"Ooh ... a hunk," said Junior ... her pussy spritzed too. First time for everything. She touched her abdomen. "That was strange."

"You look amazing," said David. He wasn't looking at Junior. He was looking at a miracle. Little red dress, red low heels, white sweater worn as a cape with the sleeves knotted at her throat and a ridiculous little red clutch purse clasped in her hands. She looked all of eighteen.

"I'm so tired of black."

"Junior ... you're in charge. You boys hear that?"

"Aww ... yes sir."

"She's the only one I trust to not sink the boat. Julie?"

"Yes, David."

"Have fun ... we'll be late."

Julie looked at the boys ... their eyes got big.

"Have fun ... Yes Sir."

He reached in his room and pulled out a cover ... an officers white hat with gold braid and a gold eagle badge that read 'OWNER' and handed it to Andrea.

"Whoa," she said. "That's heavy." She read the badge, "For me?"

David nodded and reached for his own cover. His hat was considerably less white while the badge was tarnished with age. The scrambled eggs were bright though ... real gold doesn't tarnish. The brim was cracked and ragged but lovingly polished. There was a little burned spot on the crown.

"That's real," said Julie.

David blushed, "My Dad's."

Andrea snatched it out of his hands, "Bullshit! That's yours. That's a WWll Merchant Marine Captains hat. You didn't play it safe with your watch, did you." Not a question ... a statement of fact.