Modern Love story. Chapter 13.

We were getting ready to go out that evening and I decided I'd try again to make amends. "Kelly, I'm sorry about this morning. I didn't mean it to sound as if I didn't want to have sex with you. I do!"

She was rather offhand. "You have a funny way of showing it, Ben! Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm hardly likely to go short, am I?"

Still hoping that it did matter, I went into the bathroom to take a shower. I was drying myself when I walked back into the bedroom. Kelly, who had showered ahead of me, had combed her hair up in that enchanting style and was wearing another halter neck dress, this one in pale blue cotton. She was sitting on the edge of the bed applying a deep blue nail polish to her toenails. Her knee was up by her chin and it was clear that she was not wearing any underwear. "Aren't you putting any knickers on?" I asked.

"Why, do you think I should? I thought you liked it when I went without. Would you rather I put some on?"

"No Kelly, of course not."

I suppose it was an idiotic thing to have asked. Why should she wear any? It has always been a turn on for me to know she was naked under her dress and I could not imagine Carl complaining. There was a knock on the door and the man himself came in. He was wearing a green checked casual shirt and black chinos. Kelly carried on applying the polish.

"Hello, Kelly," he said, "You look nice!" He looked at me and grinned. "Evening, Ben!"

Kelly affected surprise. "Oh it's you, Carl. I didn't recognize you with your clothes on!" She stood up, still smiling at her own joke. The dress length was halfway up her thigh. As she moved the halter neck revealed in a most tantalizing way the sides of her breasts. "Well, how do I look?" she asked us both.

I told her that she looked stunning and kissed her. She put her arms around my neck and the hem of her dress rose to reveal the very tops of her legs and the beginning of the soft curves of her buttocks. Carl, who was standing behind her, was afforded a delightful view.

We drove down to the harbor in Carl's car. It was a two-door job and Kelly volunteered to climb in the back. I gave her a helping hand, or more accurately a helping finger. She was very wet. It was only a ten minutes drive to the harbor and we were soon parked. It was a beautiful balmy evening with just the barest hint of a breeze.

A large number of people were already milling around. Carl led the way into the restaurant. The building itself was not very big but there was a reasonable sized terrace on which there were a number of tables, most of which were already occupied. Carl spoke to a waiter and he led us to the one unoccupied table that overlooked the water's edge. There was a reserved sign on it and he promptly removed it. Kelly sat down, carefully holding the hem of her dress. I sat next to her and Carl sat opposite us both.

I looked at the harbor, observing the boats gently rising and falling in the almost imperceptible swell. They ranged in size from small fishing boats to large cabin cruisers, from boats that looked barely sea-worthy to luxurious gin palaces with every conceivable extra.

On some of the latter, people could be seen sitting on deck with drinks in hand, ostensibly ignoring, but perhaps secretly enjoying the envious looks of the ordinary tourists who were trying to ascertain if such ostentatious wealth belonged to anyone they might recognize, a pop-star or a captain of industry. I watched a rather dilapidated fishing boat leave the harbor and I wondered how many hours would pass before it would return.

I heard the waiter say 'Buenos Noches' and I took the proffered menu from him, returning his greeting in my best Spanish. He replied, in English, and asked if I wanted a drink. I ordered a San Miguel, and I perused the menu, stroking my lip as I decided what to order.

My taste buds were working overtime, but not because of the appetizing choices on offer. Kelly's beautiful intimate flavor, still lingering on my finger, was the reason. Carl seemed unable to make up his mind what he wanted. He looked around to check that he couldn't be overheard and then he leaned forwards and spoke to us both.

"They've got some nice things on the menu," he said in a conspiratorial voice, "but I have to say that the most edible thing I've seen tonight is Kelly's bum!"

She made as if she was shocked but she was secretly delighted. She put on a somewhat haughty manner and said, "Well you'll have to choose something else, Carl, my bum's not on the menu."

I tried to be funny. "Well it would be, Kelly, if you sat on it!"

Our drinks arrived and we all touched glasses and wished each other a happy holiday. Carl finally decided what to eat and the waiter took our order. It was a very good restaurant. The food was excellent and so was the wine. At the end of the meal I paid the bill and then we drove back to the villa. Carl suggested we have a nightcap and went off to fix them.

Kelly and I went out on the terrace and sat down at the table, having first pulled three chairs together. I turned to Kelly and told her that despite what I'd said earlier, I was glad she would be sleeping with me that night. She told me she was glad, too. I had my hand on her upper thigh. It was fairly dark and her legs were under the table so it wasn't obvious.

Carl returned with three glasses and a bottle of Rioja that he had just opened. He poured out the wine and then sat down next to Kelly. We sat there chatting and occasionally laughing. We were all very relaxed and were enjoying each other's company. I was also enjoying an intimate contact with Kelly. My hand was now so high on Kelly's thigh that I could feel her pubic hair on the outside of my hand.

I was more than content just to leave it there; a little secret shared by the two of us, but it didn't remain a secret for long. I suppose it was no surprise that Carl had the idea to touch Kelly up, especially as he knew she had no underwear on. But it was a major surprise to him when his hand made unexpected contact with mine. In a violent reflex action, he pulled it away and in so doing, his knuckles rapped the underside of the table, causing the glasses to bounce.

It was rather comical, but Carl had actually hurt himself. Kelly who had laughed loudest, and who now felt a degree of guilt for doing so, immediately went into full Florence Nightingale mode. She went into the kitchen and returned with a cloth in which she'd wrapped some ice cubes. She placed it on the back of his hand and told him to keep it there as long as possible. Once she had satisfied herself that his injury was unlikely to be life threatening, she agreed that we could go to bed. She kissed Carl goodnight and we left him out on the terrace, nursing his bruised knuckles and the remainder of his drink.

We were no sooner in bed than we were all over each other. We made urgent love and then in the post coital after glow we both drifted off to sleep, waking in the morning all the better for the perfect night's rest. The only evidence of the previous night's sexual activity was the pungent aroma of stale semen when Kelly moved in bed.