The next morning, after attending to her usual routine office duties at the newspaper (which included making appointments for Melinda, a fellow employee), Barbara dialed Ted's extension. Ted knew where the houseboat was moored. He thought she was crazy, but gave her directions anyway. After an hour's search, and being advised by the dock-man that she was the fifth person to inquire about the houseboat, Barbara finally found it.
It was not what she expected, somewhat of a disappointment. But more of a disappointment was the conversation she overheard once she boarded the old boat. Listening, she heard the argument of four men, an argument that told her that two naval officers had already rented or bought the houseboat, and that a civilian was still trying to outbid them, frustrated at their refusal.
She stood on the deck, as the civilian, wearing a rumpled-looking suit and a sour scowl, stomped past her, grunting obscenities.
She watched the man leave, then entered the cabin where the argument had occurred. There stood a blond navy lieutenant, with his back to her, bragging about how he had turned the tough-dealing civilian away with ease.
The other officer, sensing her presence, spun and stared at her. He eyed her up and down and whistled.
Barbara, embarrassed, and aware that she had been guilty of trespassing, as well as committing heaven knew how many other misdemeanors, blushed and edged backwards. An instant later, she suddenly halted. The blond lieutenant had about-faced at his friend's whistle and she stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment. Regina's fiance!
"Why, Greg Maiden!" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"
Greg looked blank for a moment. Then, as her identity dawned on him, he strode forward to take her hands in a warm clasp.
"Barbara Torrance! Say, how did you know I'd be here? Regina wrote that you were staying with her, but I hardly expected you to form a reception committee." He held her at arm's length for a more thorough scrutiny. "You've grown up!"
"That's what I keep telling my parents," she said, laughing.
Greg introduced Chuck Dodson, who broke into a relieved smile. "I'm mighty glad you two are friends!" he explained. "For a while there, I was afraid you were another customer wanting to buy or rent the Albatross."
"Well, I was, almost," Barbara confessed. "But from what I've seen, I guess I arrived latest with the leastest."
"You wouldn't have liked the competition," the other sailor declared after Greg had performed the introductions and identified him as Whitney Egan. He turned to Chuck. "Who was our snarling competitor, anyway?"
"He gave his name as Smith," Chuck said dubiously.
Barbara sniffed. "With an accent like that? Did he say why he was so eager to buy this particular houseboat?"
Whit shook his head. "Nope. Just sailed in here prepared to hoist anchor. He tried some 'you'll-be-sorry-if-you-don't' tactics on us first, and when he found we didn't scare easily, he started waving his wallet. By that time, I was so mad I wouldn't have sold for sixteen thousand!"
"It seems awfully peculiar. Not that this isn't a nice houseboat," Barbara hastened to add. "But Mr. Dodson mentioned that I was the fourth person to inquire about it in the last hour. I suppose he meant Mr. Smith, you and Greg and myself."
"There was someone else, too," Chuck put in. "He telephoned yesterday and a couple of times today, insisting that we hold off selling the Albatross until he got here. Pa told him first come, first served, but he didn't seem to get discouraged easily."
"Maybe that was our mysterious Mr. Smith," Greg suggested.
"The fellow on the phone had a Southern drawl," Chuck said flatly. He shrugged, glad to be rid of the problem. Descending to the wharf, he informed Whit that he could take possession of the houseboat that evening, since it would require only a few hours to remove the former owner's possessions to a storage room.
"I'd better call Regina," Barbara said suddenly. "She would never forgive me if I let you catch her in pin curls, Greg. We weren't expecting you until tomorrow."
Her phone call completed, she and Whit Egan piled into Greg's shiny new convertible. "What do you intend to do with the houseboat, now that you've bought her?" she asked Whit.
"Turn her into a restaurant." He grinned. "Sound silly? You'd be surprised at how many chefs ladle up their soup in old railway cars and streetcars. This should be quite a novelty in Santa Teresa-I'll bet we won't have room for half the people who will line up for a seagoing sirloin once we swab down the decks and freshen up her paint."
Barbara smiled at his enthusiasm. "It sounds like a wonderful idea! One thing puzzles me, though. How did you discover that this particular houseboat was for sale?"
"Lucky accident. I was waiting outside a phone booth near the base yesterday and I overheard this guy inside mention a houseboat at Dodson's in Santa Teresa. I didn't see his face-but he sounded like he was going to talk all day so I went to buy a newspaper. When I came back, he was gone."
"Whit's been dreaming about owning a houseboat ever since we ate at a place called 'The Willows' in Honolulu," Greg put in. "It's a fantastic spot, built like a huge raft over a pond. You can even pick out your own frog legs there."
Barbara wrinkled her nose, but before she could reply, Greg had leaped out and was halfway up the front steps of the Prescott house. She and Whit discreetly delayed their exit from the car for a few minutes, then joined the engaged couple.
"You would have to show up tonight!" Regina was saying, although she was smiling happily. "This is Mother's evening for volunteer work at the hospital, and Dad has gone bowling with his League. When Barbara called to say she wouldn't be home either, I decided to make myself a sandwich. I haven't a thing prepared!"
"Point me in the direction of the kitchen," Whit said. "This likely-looking KP assistant and I will stir up a few calories while you two hold hands."
No one objected, and half an hour later, after selecting various items from the pantry shelves, Whit had a salmon soufflй puffing in the oven and was measuring ingredients for the lemon sauce that was to accompany it.
"Where did you learn to cook?" Barbara asked him, rinsing salad greens under the faucet.
"On our ranch in Montana. Mom gave up hoping for a girl after six boys and recruited the baby of the family to help her feed the threshers. Once you have cooked for threshers," Whit added emphatically, "feeding a Navy chow line is child's play. Salad ready? Shell some walnuts for brownies. I'd make a lemon pie, but there isn't time."
"Aye, aye, sir," Barbara responded with a smart salute. "Anything else?"
"Set the table while I hail the lovebirds. This soufflй won't keep."
The golden-brown salmon loaf was a work of perfection. Barbara, ladling lemon sauce over it and helping herself to French-sliced green beans garnished with mushrooms and red slivers of pimento, catalogued Whit's culinary artistry in the Cordon Bleu class. Yet there wasn't a trace of sissiness about him. His broad shoulders looked as if they would fit snugly into a football jersey, and she had already seen him stand up for his rights against the bullying Mr. Smith. Watching his blue eyes sparkle with small-boy mischievousness as he teased Regina and Greg, Barbara decided that Whitney Egan, like his cooking, was in a class all by himself.
While the girls cleaned up the kitchen, Greg and Whit commandeered one of the spare bedrooms and changed into civilian clothes.
"I was all for moth-balling my bell-bottoms this morning when the Navy handed over my freedom papers, but this character couldn't wait even five minutes to wave goodbye to Port Dixon. Said there was some girl in Santa Teresa he wanted to see," Whit teased.
Regina pretended disbelief. "A girl or a houseboat?"
"Wait a minute!" Greg protested. "The houseboat was all his idea."
"You might at least introduce me to this floating cafeteria," Regina told them.
"Before the clock strikes eight, you shall feast your eyes on the Albatross," Greg promised her. "In fact, if you coaxed hard enough, we might even berth her in your inlet for a few weeks. I'm going to pull the 'Man-Who-Came-to-Dinner' act on Whit until your Aunt Louise sings 'O Promise Me' at us."
"You'll stay here? Oh, super!" Regina squealed delightedly. "I can think of a hundred chores for a couple of stalwart ex-sailors-with a wedding coming up!"
"Pardon me while I catch a slow boat for China," Whit groaned, but no one took any notice of his feeble protestations. Munching brownies still warm from the pan, the four swarmed into the convertible. Traffic was light, and within ten minutes Greg had pulled up in the alley behind Pier Six.
The Albatross looked younger and less disreputable with the soft splash of moonlight across her weather-beaten decks. Regina and Barbara were escorted on a tour through the cabins, then they all stretched out on canvas deck chairs while Whit outlined his plans for refurbishment of the boat. A former shipmate, he explained, would go into partnership with him when his discharge came through in about two weeks.
"We'll spot tables all along the port and starboard decks," he said. "Should be able to fit fifteen on each side without crowding. I'd like to raise a small stage at the stern there-maybe hire an accordionist to keep the customers happy."
"What about the cabins?" Regina asked. "Will you turn them into dining rooms, too?"
"Not at first-at least, not until we see how business goes. We'll just keep them as living quarters and expand the galley to-" Whit broke off and strode over to the rail.
"Seasick-after two years of destroyer duty?" Greg hooted.
"That's the second time that car has driven past here." Whit frowned, staring after a pair of rapidly disappearing tail-lights along the bend of the water front.
"Same car? So what? Maybe they like the view," Greg said offhandedly.
"Maybe."
"You don't think it might have been that dreadful Mr. Smith, do you?" Barbara asked.
A sober expression had settled over Whit's face. "No, it wasn't Santa Claus. I got a fair look at the driver the second time he cruised by. It could have been Buck Younger."
Barbara and Regina exchanged puzzled glances. The name meant nothing to them.
"Your twenty-twenty is going back on you, pal," Greg scoffed. "Younger must be a thousand miles away from here by this time. A guy doesn't crash out of the brig and then hang around playing tag with the Shore Patrol."
"Younger is a Texan," Whit recalled, rubbing his chin. "Now that I think about it, the voice in the phone booth did have a pronounced drawl. "And," he added, "the person who phoned the Dodson's also had a drawl."
"Coincidence," declared Greg. Nevertheless, he seemed a bit disconcerted. "Look, Whit-Younger hated every second he spent in the Navy. Why should he hang around the water now, when he could be down in Waco rustling steers?"
Whit had no answer to that. He merely repeated that there were some coincidences that even Jonah's whale would have trouble swallowing.
"Who is Buck Younger?" Barbara asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Fellow we knew in Port Dixon. He fought," Greg said briefly.
"Brawled," Whit corrected. "Not the sort of character you'd bring home to meet Mother."
"Or even Father," Greg said with finality, and the conversation swung to a more pleasant topic.
It was decided that Barbara and Regina would ride home with Greg while Whit remained aboard the houseboat overnight.
"I want to talk to Mr. Dodson again first thing in the morning. He's to transfer all the papers for the Albatross to me then," Whit said.
It was a reasonable explanation-but after a look at his set expression, Barbara guessed that he intended to batten down the hatches and stand ready to repel boarders.
"He could do it, too," she told herself. Somehow she felt as if her acquaintanceship with Whit had spanned months, instead of one short evening.
I'd hate to see anything happen to him, she thought, shuddering a bit despite the balminess of the June night. Unbidden, a vision of the anonymous "Mr. Smith" arose. She would be a long time forgetting his scowl as he stalked in fury out of the cabin. And then there was Buck Younger, perhaps. Someone else, certainly, who had displayed an undue amount of interest in the Albatross.
There had to be a reason-and an awfully good one, too. Some very definite purpose lay behind the various attempts to gain title to the Albatross.
Something is on that houseboat! The words exploded from Barbara's subconscious. The longer she mulled over the idea, the more certain she became that this was the explanation. What else could account for the houseboat's vast popularity? But what could this "something" be? And what was it doing aboard the Albatross?
While Greg and Regina lay in bed later that evening, they talked about the Albatross, but they didn't worry themselves with what might be aboard the houseboat. They talked instead about what a nice restaurant the place could eventually turn into.
"We'll have to go there and eat all the time. After we're married, of course," Greg said.
"Yes, after we're married," Regina replied. "Oh, Greg, I'm so glad you're home now. I missed you so much."
"It's great to be back, honey, believe me," Greg said. "I've been dreaming of being with you for so long."
To emphasize his words, Greg pulled her closer and kissed her hard on the lips. Regina hugged him tightly and refused to let him go. While Greg lay next to her, Regina smoothed her hands down his back and slipped her fingers beneath the elastic band of his pajama bottoms. She clutched his buttocks for a moment. Then Greg rolled his hips to the side, enabling Regina to massage his semi-hard penis.
Regina thrilled to the feel of his cock growing in her hand. While she stroked it up and down, it grew hard and thick. Soon, it was throbbing mightily in her grasp. She could feel the veins engorged with blood.
Breaking off their kiss, Greg rolled to the side to catch his breath. Regina still clutched his penis.
"Come on, honey," Greg gasped. "Suck it just a little bit. Just like you used to."
That was just what Regina had in mind. She eagerly responded to her fiance's request. In seconds, she was lavishing his warm prick with long, sweeping caresses of her tongue. She didn't neglect his scrotum, paying special attention to his testicles. She sucked the fragile balls into her mouth and nibbled on them tenderly.
"Perfect," Greg gasped. "Honey, that's just perfect!"
Knowing that she was pleasing Greg so well gave Regina a special warm feeling of delight. She liked nothing better than making her man feel good.
Taking his penis into her mouth, Regina thought about how great it was to have Greg back with her. She was thrilled about their marriage and their new life together. If the pleasure they were experiencing just now was any indication, she was certain their future would be a happy one. Not to mention a sexy one.
"There, now do it harder," Greg requested. "That's it. Move your head faster.. ohhh, like that. Nice, honey. Really nice. Man, that feels good!"
Regina was giving Greg her all, trying everything she knew to turn him on. From the way he was groaning and moving his hips, she knew she was doing a good job. Any moment now he was going to come, that she was sure of.
Greg gripped the back of her head to hold Regina in place. Then he concentrated on his orgasm until he was able to abandon himself to the overpowering sensations that were flooding through his body.
"This is it, baby!" he grunted. "I'm coming. Ohhhhh!"
Tightening her lips around his shaft, Regina prepared herself for the flood of sperm she was sure would soon erupt. Even if she hadn't been so fond of the taste of a man's semen, she would willingly have swallowed Greg's to let him know just how much she cared for him. She knew it turned him on to shoot his jism down her throat, so she did her best to accommodate him. After all, there were plenty of things she liked him to do for her that she was certain he wasn't too fond of that he did anyway. That was one of the things their relationship was based on, she knew: sacrifice.
While shouting out his pleasure, Greg unleashed his sperm. He came again and again, while Regina swallowed fast to get it all down. When he was done, she lovingly cleaned him off, draining him to the last drop.
After she finished, Regina scooted back up the length of Greg's body and gave him a big kiss. Then she took off his pajamas, leaving him naked. Playfully, she toyed with his soft penis, flipping it back and forth between her fingers.
"It looks so sad," she said. "Are you sure he's ready for more?"
Greg grinned at her lewdly. "Of course. The way I feel, honey, I could go all night."
"Oh, yeah?" she teased. "You could have fooled me. I need more than this soft little thing."
"Just get your nightgown off and be patient. I won't be soft for long."
Greg wasn't kidding. By the time Regina peeled off her nightie, his penis began to grow.
"Rub your pussy against it. Like that. Feel it?" Greg asked.
"Yes, honey," she replied huskily. "It feels marvelous. Oh, Greg. I love you so much. Now put it inside me. Ohhhh!"
Greg did as she asked, mounting her easily. And true to his word, Greg was prepared to fuck her until sunup.
His long cock went in deep, and Regina loved the way it plunged to the depths of her cunt. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to pull him closer, deeper.
"Greg," she whispered, gripping the sides of his head and pulling him down close so she could slide her tongue into his ear. "I love it when you fuck me this way. It's so good. Oh, darling, I love you so much. I love you to fuck me."
The aroused man just grunted in reply. He was too caught up in the pleasure of driving his prick into her cunt to take time for conversation. When he was fucking, nothing could disturb his concentration-nothing except his orgasm.
Having just come moments earlier, spewing his jism into his fiancйe's mouth, Greg knew that his second orgasm of the evening would be a long time coming. So he concentrated on making Regina feel good. He knew how she liked him to vary the speed of his thrusts, so he slowed down the pace of his fucking. Ever so slowly, he pushed his cock in and then pulled it out.
To Regina, this snail's pace approach to making love was just what she needed. Having quickly drained Greg's balls of their load of sperm with her mouth and lips, she was now ready to be pleased. She wanted them to take their time and make this evening last as long as possible.
When he drove his cock back into her, Greg angled his hips so he could drag the shaft of his prick along her clitoris. Regina usually liked Greg to stimulate her clit with his lips and tongue, but his cock seemed to be doing a pretty good job at that moment. One thing she really enjoyed, outside of having her pussy sucked until she came, was enjoying her orgasm while stuffed full of Greg's hard prick. She knew that if he continued to fuck her-slowly and carefully, paying special attention to her clit-that she would be able to experience a devastating orgasm while he was inside her.
"Just like that," she said softly, coaxing him into pleasing her the way she wanted to be pleased. "Oh, Greg, that feels so good. Where'd you ever learn… ohhhhh… to do it like that?"
Greg just smiled at her and continued to work his hips up and back, taking his time, enjoying the way Regina was beginning to respond to him more eagerly.
With her arms and legs wrapped around Greg's heaving body, Regina thought about how wonderful it was going to be to be married to this man. He was so considerate of her desires, not only in the bedroom, but everywhere they happened to be. Oh, he made her feel so good. Never before had she felt this way-so satisfied, so thoroughly pleased.
The taste of Greg's sperm was still heavy in her mouth. She loved the tangy, musky flavor, and only hoped that he had much more of that sticky white stuff to spew into her cunt. Oftentimes, Greg had told her that she was hungry for cum. And she didn't deny that. She loved the taste and texture of a man's jism. For her, there was nothing like it-so warm and gooey. She was fascinated by the stuff. It seemed to possess magical qualities for her. She was always amazed that such a strange sticky liquid could produce life. It was powerful stuff, she told herself, capable of wondrous things.
Despite the fact that she felt semen was so awesome, for the time being she would be content to just have a few spurts of it in her cunt. There would be plenty of time later to consider having a baby. Now, she only wanted to enjoy Greg's sperm for its playful, pleasing qualities, not its life-giving potential.
"Oh, Greg, darling," she groaned. "Please, come in me. Come in me hard, honey, and fill me up with your sperm. I want it so bad, baby. I want to feel it so warm and wet, splashing into me. Give it to me. I want it so bad, Greg. Come! Come inside me!"
The young man was tremendously excited by the way his future wife was chanting her demands. He loved it when she got this way, when her desires became so basic and when they surfaced so easily. That was one thing he loved about Regina-the way she was so honest and up front about sex. She loved to fuck, and she made no pretenses about that. But she was no whore. She was also faithful. Granted, she loved to fuck, but only with Greg.
Luckily for Greg, however, he was a skillful, understanding lover. He had the abilities to please his sex-hungry wife-to-be. If not, she might have been looking for other men to satisfy her overwhelming desires. Since Greg was such a good lover, able to meet Regina on her own terms, they found themselves infinitely compatible. And they also found themselves in love.
Regina was becoming more needful of Greg's sperm with each passing second. She began digging her fingernails into his back while thrashing around wildly beneath him.
"Come!" she shouted. "Fuck me hard and come!"
Greg was almost there, but he tried to restrain himself for just a few more moments. He was enjoying the way Regina was acting-so intensely frantic and demanding-that he wanted to watch her for as long as he could. It wasn't often that she became so animal-like in her actions, so primitive yet appealing. He tried to keep from coming so he could see just how far she would go.
But the young man's body soon took over. He couldn't hold himself back any longer. He felt that unmistakable itch in the base of his scrotum that told him his climax was upon him, so he gave in.
Greg shouted out his pleasure when he came, and Regina joined him. The room was soon filled with the feverish sounds of their groans of completion.
Afterwards, they held one another tightly, kissing, their tongues lingering together, before drifting off into a deep, restful slumber.