Tom looked at his wife as he took the turn that would soon bring him, and Abigail, to the senior living complex where her mother lived and had done so for some three years.
Maureen Scott remained a sprightly seventy-year-old and wore her blonde hair short, whereas her daughter continued to captivate him with her riotous sun-bleached mane and tanned skin. The two women were unmistakably a mother and daughter but Abi, as she wanted to be called, had all her wits and scheming ways still about her. Maureen, on the other hand, was forgetful and sometimes needed reminding of where she was. The two women were 'fashionistas', Abi making sure that her mother did not lapse into wearing an oldie's clothes but remained attractive. Her slim figure, with its 'droopy titties' as she now referred to them, so Abi had told him, still lent Maureen a captivating allure and Tom was never embarrassed to be seen in their company.
The three of them got on and even had fun together.
Tom had suggested that the weather was set fair for the weekend and that they should go out in the small motor cruiser with its lounge and seating, a small bedroom, and a bathroom with a shower and toilet. 'Marasol' was nothing grand, but the boat suited them all perfectly and the palm tree-lined walkways of the marina, and the clubhouse, were a place to relax whenever the boat remained at its moorings, the weather too blustery to go out onto the ocean beyond the harbour's sea wall.
Tom laughed, somewhat ruefully.
"You talked to her about the way we live sometimes, how we play with others, and she understands what we could do for her?"
"Yes, darling, I told you all about it. That's why we're here...to take her out of herself for a while. It's a wonder that we haven't thought of it before."
"That you haven't, darling," he teased. "I'm still getting my mind into gear on what you want me to do. Tom and Abi Anderson, carers to the elderly are their speciality."
Abi laughed and looked at Tom fondly. She'd win him round to what she had suggested and her mother, Maureen, was still a 'looker' with her coiffed hair, smart colourful clothes, and slender body.
"It's nothing more than what we have done when we swing, darlin'...and now the partner for you is someone you know only too well."
"Yeah, but with her clothes on."
♥
Maureen sure had grace and a sense of dress style, a floaty and wispy summer dress worn with sandals and a wide-brimmed straw hat. She was seen to clutch Abi's arm as they walked along the jetty and to Marasol's mooring.
Maureen slowed their progress, the grip of her hand on Abi's arm making her daughter look at her.
"It's okay, Tom cares for you and he understands that life's been a bit lonely since my father shipped out of our lives. At least you were provided for..."
"Yeah, I know all about that. But what you're suggesting that I do, now, is not expected, really it isn't." Maureen gazed at Tom and liked to see him casually dressed in chino shorts, a faded mauve polo shirt, and a white baseball cap parked jauntily on his greying hair. Her grip on Abi's arm tightened. "You sure surprised me with what you have planned...what you two get up to. I'd like to live that way for a while, even if it happens only once...and with Tom."
"No one's going to know, Mom, about what happened, except for us."
"I'm sure glad of that and I hope that Tom's going to understand...that it's been a while for me and I'm not as strong as I was. I don't want to be a disappointment to him...handsome man that he is. You sure were lucky meeting him."
"Yeah, and we live and love in our ways sometimes," Abi answered truthfully.
Tom was seen unfastening the screens that covered the rear well, rolling them up and clipping them to the cabin's sides and top deck, before he climbed aboard. He held out a hand and gave them a devilish grin. "Which of you beautiful ladies are coming on board, first?"
"I am and it's been a while," Maureen sniggered, "but I guess you know that already."
"All I know and want is to make a difference to you, Maureen. Abi and I agreed on this...on it being this way even if I did ask what she expected me to do that would be of help."
Tom had turned the idea over in his mind, time and again. Would the woman before him participate in the act? Would she lie back on the double bed that occupied the small cabin as he went about pleasing her? He'd like to take something from the act with her too, even to have the woman climax and she brought him along with her. She had enough to hold and the only concern that he had was that he would get lost in the moment and hurt her.
Abi had said, once a tacit agreement to what they would share had been reached, that Maureen wanted to have a man inside of her again, and Abi didn't know of anyone else whom she could ask to perform such a personal task.
Members of the swinger's club were a vain lot, men and women alike, and would laugh at her if she suggested the idea of one of the males pleasuring a woman of Maureen's age. Besides that concern, the idea of Maureen becoming a swinger was absurd and Tom knew that. His affection for her could now find a different and only too physical expression.
"You ladies get comfortable and then I'll get us underway."
He and Abi had perfected the roles of skippering and crewing when it concerned casting off and mooring in their allotted berth in the marina. As he waited, Tom stripped down to his swimming briefs, the cut of them leaving little for either woman to imagine and it was something that he only wore when he and Abi motored off the California coast, and once the marina and its protective wall had been left in their wake.
Both women came onto the tiny bridge clothed only in their skimpy bikinis.
"Your crew awaits instructions," Abi said and grinned even though she had already discussed with Maureen what was expected of her. The older woman stood between Tom's outstretched arms as he manoeuvred the boat and she dutifully left the bridge and scuttled to the stern to cast off that rope and then rushed to the bows as the engine roared and the boat slowly left the quayside.
Tom was already embracing Maureen with one arm around her body as the other steered the craft, Maureen reaching up to embrace his neck and surrender to whatever he said. Her bikini showcased her figure, the blue fabric with white polka dots, little more than small triangles of cloth, holding her sagging breasts. The cups were stretched over them.
Abi knew from other times, and similar situations, that Tom always found the words to coax a woman to share in what was being sought of her, and Maureen was to be no exception.
Abi called to them, even if it disturbed what Tom was already doing to Maureen to coax her into letting go of any lingering doubts on what they were, quite literally, embarking upon; to have sex while the boat rose and fell, rocked in the ocean swell and with a few other craft nearby.
