Your Son is in The Yacht Club

It's ironic and also disgusting that I'm re-reading Lolita, I need to clear my head and not cave into an urge when this young woman arrives for the weekend. I'm laying on my bed in boxers, the sheets I changed a few days ago, reading every page twice. I'm lonely but that's okay because my sheets have been keeping me company, I thought it was a good idea to start doing my own laundry, not letting Mother know what I've been doing in my free time in my room with the door closed. I don't watch porn, I don't look at naked pictures, I don't even use my imagination, just the words off pages in books, the pictures painted for my pleasure. I forget the name but I recently read a book and a woman was on a beach alone in her bikini and it wasn't sunny. It was cloudy, windy, not chilly but humid even without the sun... I'm still reading, and my hand moves down my own body, but I stop it. Everything in this moment feels like a Tyler The Creator video. I get up and walk over slow and turn the record player off. I'm looking out the window that overlooks the driveway of the beach house. Large hedges on both sides, gravel leading down to the road, cars in the circle lot. No new ones yet though. I do not throw on a shirt when I walk over to the dresser that's holding my clothes inside up against the plaid wallpaper. Tacky. I hear voices after I close my eyes for a few minutes still standing, hearing the car she's in pulling in. The company got out, said hello as I watched from the window. Taking out their expensive luggage from their expensive car and she got out too. Headphones, sunglasses on. Bikini on, it was black like the one that woman wore in the story, she even had a towel wrapped around her waist. But it was her large breasts that caught my attention, they seemed as to be the size of the suitcases, if I grabbed them would it be considered helping? I heard the voices in the house now, I looked myself over in the mirror in my room before going down, what did I see? I walk down the spiral steps slow, the conversation getting louder as I approach from above. The first thing I see is her blonde thick hair tied up while her face is looking at her phone glued to it like I want to be glued to her chest. I said my hellos to her mother and has the only man in the house at the time (the other being on the yacht) I grabbed their bags, me and the nymphet did not speak yet but I noticed she looked at my shorts, I looked at her and she smiled, I said hello, she said hello back as she followed me to her room. I put her bags down, I left the room. Walked into my room and put pants on. I put a record on and played Spill the Wine as I used my imagination to fuck her. It felt uncomfortable so I didn't want much detail, but in my head was a place of dangerous lust.

Hours later the adults are inside the wine. I'm an adult so I'm inside too. She is not yet, but she steals glasses anyway and smiles with every one of her sips. I'm not focusing on the conversation about stocks, politics and law because all I can focus on is how focused she is to her phone and I want her to hold me like she holds it. In her hands tight making me have, get, catch, receive all of her attention. Making me feel safe.

I'm sitting by the lake in the hot morning and I don't know why she isn't beside me. My body is heating from the sun, a hangover sweating out and I want our skin to evaporate from a high degree when we touch. Sweat becomes one, my sweat sinking into her, hers sinking into me. She's across the beach aways playing with her feet in the sand. I'm staring at her, but I doubt she can tell from this far away, I'm sipping vodka straight. It's just after eleven am. Later in the day I caught her snooping in my room, the door was left purposely open a crack, I'm watching her, I step back from the door spying on the girl who was a spy. She found an old porn magazine that was in a drawer, it, like myself, hadn't been touched in a very long time. I have a feeling she can tell I'm watching her but I am not certain. I want to keep watching her, but she sets the magazine down and I step back further away, out of sight. She leaves without noticing me and I walk to my room, close the door and pick up the magazine. I sniff every single spot she touched, smelling every single page.

At the dining room table we are all laughing and sitting and drinking. It is an actual fun time, but never once did she look at me, not a glance nor glare. After eating I went to my room, closed the door quietly, put my face in my pillow and almost cried. I'm still in my room pouting while everyone is drunk by the beach. She comes into my room and doesn't say a word, she closes the door. She sits on my bed and looks into my red eyes, she puts her hand on my thigh and I place mine on her breasts. She grabs my other hand and puts my fingers in her mouth, we don't kiss, our lips don't touch. She lays back on my bed raising her legs to my shoulder. I grab her foot and insert it into my mouth. I suck her toes deeply and I think we both came. It's her last day and we spend it down at the beach. Laughing, running, not talking, splashing and touching. Our lips touch hard and her hot wet body makes me boil inside. I tell her we can't but we do anyway. She is crazy for licking the sand off my balls. Everyone is saying goodbye. Everyone hugs, I giver her a light hug and she holds me lightly too. Before she closes the expensive car door, she mouths goodbye. After I go to my room, lay on my bed and make myself cum four times while thinking about her toes in my mouth.