Dave Friar - Bonnie

"Yep."

I know her feet must have touched the floor somewhere between her chair and me, but I didn't observe it. I barely got the screen door open before she reached it. I'm still not sure she would have waited for it to open. "Jupiter's moons!" and she was dragging Uncle Dan into the darkness.

"Over here, where the pool lights don't reach," I said, aiming about 80 pounds of Penny in the right direction.

"Come on – hurry!" she demanded, pulling 210 pounds of Uncle Dan helplessly in her wake. This, I figured, had to be what the skipper of a luxury superliner like the QE2 experiences when a tug ties on to it.

"Wait, wait, wait," I said when we were in the shadows. I explained about night-sight and made her stand, fidgeting, with her eyes closed for the requisite 30 seconds. Then I showed her to the telescope and watched the fun. She had no trouble learning the fine controls so she could do her own tracking on her target.

She was grabbed by the eyeball, hunched over the instrument and immobile. Silhouetted in the night, I was struck with wonder at the intensity of her interest, the totality of her fascination. She was drinking in the night, sucking up the stars, and I doubted all the wonders of the universe could sate her hunger. In this, she was no different than any healthy kid. I thought of that most pitiful of creatures – the school teacher who's been ground into apathy by underfunding, disconnected parents, lack of community support and respect and generally shitty conditions. I was filled with a flare of rage at the unbelievable, wasteful stupidity of a society that allows anyone who voluntarily chose to teach the Pennys of the world to be forcibly jaded to the glorious miracle of that thirsty young mind. The fury burned so brightly that I wondered if I could glow in the dark, and I forced myself to be calm, tried to think of something else, to quench the anger or at least bank it as coals.

I heard a distant splash. Ahhh, yes, the lovelies and their midnight swim. I was about to excuse myself for a little recreational ogling when Penny asked if we could see Saturn. Well, no, since Saturn wasn't up. But Mars was and I sighted for her.

Then I made my break.

Big as I am, I walk very quietly. I don't like to disturb the other tenants on the land, the four-legged ones. So it was an accident. I intended to just walk through the gate of the pool enclosure and stand there in the light and try to chat up the young women – primarily, Irene. And wax my eyeballs on the sight of them in their swimsuits.

As it happens, at six-foot-five, I can see over the wooden fencing pretty easily long before I get to the gate. And they didn't hear me coming.

They were standing in the shallow end, in waist-deep water, facing each other. Irene was just undoing the knot in the single strip of fabric holding up the top of Bonita's maillot. The water held it to her breasts, and then Irene peeled it down. Her lips were tracing the line of exposure.

Broing!

In profile, Bonita's breasts were amazing. Pear-shaped and quite large, they were nonetheless defying gravity by jutting. Until that moment, I'd always thought Playmates were airbrushed into that thrust. Her nipples were hard and Irene was feasting on them, first one and then the other and then back, while caressing Bonita's sleekly curved waist and hips. Irene's nipples were very long and very hard inside the top of her strapless two-piece. Very long, as in maybe three-quarters of an inch. Considering how tight the stretch material was, that was pretty amazing all by itself.

Bonita was shifting slowly from side to side, her hips rolling and her butt twitching. She ran her hands over Irene's head and shoulders and then gripped her face. She turned Irene's face toward her and fastened her mouth on Irene's. Their arms went around each other and they clinched, hands moving constantly. They fell to their knees, pressed together. The water was now at the level of their necks. When Irene pulled away, a bright blue strip floated in the water: her top. Bonita urged her to stand. As Irene stood, Bonita slicked the bottoms down over Irene's legs and just then I sensed someone approaching.

Penny!

I turned and strode to intercept, but it wasn't Penny; it was Kate. I gestured for quiet, reached her in two strides and turned her toward the side of the house where her youngest daughter was still – I hoped – gazing at the heavenly bodies of her choice.

"I was just going to check on Bonita and Irene."

"They're fine." I cleared my throat.

"Dan, why are you herding me? What are they doing?" She turned to face me and her hand brushed the tent in my pants. Her eyes got very big in the night as comprehension sank in. "They're not -?"

"They're not hurting anyone," I said. She planted her heels and froze, staring at me in starlight.

"You mean my sister and my daughter are lesbians?" she finally hissed, horrified.

"I dunno, but right now they're lovers. Leave them alone."

"But – I feel so – so – "

"Think how I feel. I've been fantasizing about Irene all evening."

I never found out what she was about to say, because Penny came charging up: "You've gotta see this, Mom! It's amazing!"

"Yeah, Mom, go take a look," I agreed. "I'm going to go get a beer."

I heard quiet splashing in the pool. I was jealous of both women. I strode to the house, changing my mind about the beer. This called for brandy. Then I decided on beer again. In my state, a couple of belts of brandy would convince me that I should take up Dolores on her invitation.

Which was when I realized there was no more MTV coming from the bedroom. But there was another sound. I crept to the door and listened. Panting and moans. And words, barely intelligible: "Oh yeah – oh yeah – gimme – uh – more – unnnh – more! – harder! – oh yeah! – "

Like that.

Brandy.

I put an unreasonable amount in the snifter and took it onto the front deck, the one that faces all the greenery that defends my house from the road and runs in front of the first-floor bedrooms. I sat on the Adirondack chair in front of the bedroom Irene and Bonita would occupy. Served three purposes. For one, it kept me away from the noises Dolores was making. For another, I'd know when my sapphic fantasy girls were done in the pool and I could go to the back deck. And, as long as I could hear Kate and Penny murmuring from the shadows at the side of the house, I'd know where they were.

About two-thirds of the way through a bowl of my pipe tobacco, I heard the door to the bedroom open and close. I crept over to Dolores's door and listened. Silence. I picked up the remains of my brandy and went around to the side of the house, greeting Penny and Kate.

"I hate to break up the star search, but we've got to repack the telescope or condensation will form inside the housing."

"Oh…okay." Penny was very polite about it. "Can we do it again tomorrow night, Uncle Dan? Please?"

"Honey, he may have other plans," Kate cautioned.

I bent and kissed Penny's forehead. "Sweetheart, you and me go on a tour of the heavens tomorrow. I'll set up the big one and we'll see if we can't spot Mons Olympus, okay?"

"What's that?" Penny asked. "It sounds dirty!"

"Penny!" Kate gasped.

"Mons Olympus is on Mars and it's the tallest mountain we know of in our Solar System."

The ladies helped me carry the telescope and tripod inside and Penny watched closely as I disassembled the mount and put everything back into its case. I bid both a friendly good night and then refilled the snifter, took my pouch and my pipe and myself out to the pool enclosure. I had an Elmore Leonard novel awaiting me.

I was stretched out on the chaise and enjoying the silence when I heard, "Knock-knock?"