Suddenly laughing, Wendy held her pose for a moment, thumbs pressed against her slender, sculptured sides, fingers splayed across her belly. "Mr. Preston? What're you doing?"
"Exercising King," he called back. "Come on down."
"All right." She giggled delightedly and disappeared from view, only to appear a few minutes later at the back door. She came across the yard, provocative in her walk and stance without even being aware of her natural sensuality. "Gee, you have a nice dog, Mr. Preston."
"Call him King," he grinned at her as she patted King's head. King lolled his tongue out appreciatively and panted. "And call me David; it's a lot less formal between friends."
"Oh? Are we friends?" she said coyly.
"Aren't we?" He knew this was a game, a teasing game that teenage girls love to play and never mean. He knew it and went along with it. Lose a battle, win the war…
"Sure we are, I guess, David. And I'm Wendy."
"I know. I heard your mother call you yesterday."
"Oh her," she grimaced.
Normally, such a reaction would be expected of a girl, it being no more than the usual unmeant disdain for parents, but Preston caught a deep undercurrent of true feeling behind her casual remark. Being the man he was with his devotion to seduction, he felt that there might be a weak point in which to drive the wedge of his cock; with the jungle instinct of a predatory lion of long experience, he began shaping a plan of attack around that innocuous throwaway comment.
"Where's your girl-friend?" Wendy asked slyly. She hadn't forgotten about the moans and growls of lust which had been emanating from his room while her mother masturbated. That didn't bother her – after all, David was a man, and such things were to be expected of him; her mother was the seed of her anguish. "You know, the blonde one you had in your room last night."
If Wendy had the impression he'd blush like the boys she knew would have, she was mistaken. He threw back his head and laughed uproarishly. "You know about Gloria, then?"
"Sure, the whole block does, you were making so much noise."
"What the hell, can't two people enjoy themselves?"
Wendy changed the subject, feeling it was getting a little too intimate for her; she wanted to escape lewdness, not get more of it. "I thought she'd be over here today with you," she said casually, but she felt her cheeks beginning to burn.
David chuckled, the man catching the blush on her pretty face. "Yeah, she left early to go to her brother's place. She'll be living there, you see."
"Oh…"
"You planning to sun-bathe?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Well… there isn't anything else really to do," she replied. "But I'd sure like to get away from here. You have a car?"
"Gloria's got it."
"Oh, yeah. Gloria."
"Come on, Wendy, she's just a friend. I'm not married to her."
"You sleep with her, don't you?" she blurted out before she'd realized what she'd been thinking. She averted her eyes, angry at herself, and embarrassed at the way David laughed at her again.
"What do you know about sex, little lady?"
"More than you think," she said grimly. "More than you think."
He chortled again. David lewdly thought about the pawing, groping hands of the local kids on her tender breasts, and her passion-filled kissing in the drive-in. She was still a virgin; Christ, he could almost smell her quivering little hymen stretched across her cherry cunt… well, if he had his way, she'd sure have a lot of knowledge about sex, straight from his throbbing cock! But he'd have to get her away from here, away from the prying eyes of her mother – another luscious cunt he wasn't forgetting to consider ways and means about – and all the other distractions. Someplace quiet…
"Well, how about the boat?" the older man suggested, thumbing towards the Thompson outboard.
"Heck, I've seen everywhere that's anywhere around the bay, and the boat's not big enough to take out in open water."
"Well, I haven't seen everywhere and anywhere. Show me."
She looked up at him. Why not? A beautiful day, and it would give her something to do, and he was such a nice, understanding and cool guy. He might be over thirty, but he's not square, she thought, nodding her head in sudden agreement. "I'll get the keys," she said.
"And I'll get… some other things," Preston added, grinning with intense pleasure. Some extra special other things…
It had been a very fine suggestion, Wendy thought dreamily some hours later, the day blue-and-white, the sea Lucite clear and of long, low waves. The ride around the bay had been beautiful, the magnificent dog, King, barking at the swooping gulls and frothy spray, and she'd had fun pointing out all the homes and points of view as she stood in front, her hands on the windscreen, letting the salty, tangy breeze blow her hair and cool her skin, while David skillfully maneuvered the boat while sitting alongside her at the controls. Then they'd decided to go someplace and just relax, someplace out of the way and secluded, and she'd liked that idea as well, because she was still disturbed by the events of last night, and wanted a little peace and quiet in which to contemplate.
She knew just the spot, too. The pines were thinned out, allowing a small section of sandy beach about thirty yards long and half as deep – just enough to drop anchor and wade ashore and relax on the sand, alone and unsullied, the world going by without noticing them. She lay back on the towel, the warm rays baking her, feeling the nearness of the older man next to her, but not caring, not afraid… King slept in the shade, but ready should he be needed.
Preston sat up, stretching and yawning. "I could go for a cigarette. You want one?"
"No, no thank you."
"You don't smoke?"
"Well… sometimes." She didn't want to act unsophisticated in front of him, make him think she was a child or something. "Okay," she nodded impulsively.
He grinned at her and stretched himself so he could reach into his pocket for his pack. They were odd looking, she thought as he handed her one. Loose, with a funny brown-colored, shaggy tobacco. He saw her hesitation and explained: "They're Mexican, Wendy. I got them down there. Mild, but lots of flavor. That's what you smoke for, isn't it?"
"Yeah, sure… I guess so." She placed one in her mouth and cupped his hand as he lit it with his lighter. She inhaled, and was pleased to find out that he was right, that the cigarette was peculiar smelling but very tasty, sort of sweetish, in fact. But a small tendril of giddiness hit her, in spite of their mildness, and suddenly the ocean was a different color of blue. "Whoo! They're sure different, all right, but I like them."
"I thought you would," the man said insidiously. He thought to himself that this girl must be awfully stupid and very ignorant not to know that she wasn't smoking Mexican cigarettes, but marijuana. Hell, he'd never even been to Mexico. He watched her carefully as she smoked, keeping her mind off what she was doing automatically by a constant patter of lively jokes and remarks, making her giggle and her eyes sparkle and her lungs inhale the curling fog of the euphoric drug…