MILF Retreat by Tiffany Vamp

Author:Tiffany Vamp
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

The rest of the weekend went without anything resembling a glitch. Theodore and Margaret went a few places and apparently took a lot of pictures. They came back with a definite tan and a few shopping bags.

Ed and I chatted a couple of times and I told him about the open mic. He went to the restaurant Saturday night and said they had a singer who performed long enough for him to drink a glass of wine and feel lonely, but the guy didn’t impress him that much. He invited me along, but I passed.

Both couples left Sunday afternoon, but Ed and his fiancée had planned to take the whole week, so he was still here alone. I wasn’t used to cooking for more than myself during the weeks, but he wasn’t any real challenge. He spent both Monday and Tuesday mornings driving around and seeing the sights, and both afternoons on the beach.

I spent Monday doing the laundry and changing the sheets and towels in all three rooms. I discovered crusted stains on the sheets from Ed’s bed and knew damn well what they were. The poor guy expected to have a week sleeping with his fiancée, but he was alone. Who could blame him? Besides, after the last few nights, I was a great one to talk.

When he returned from the beach Tuesday with a Kindle and a glowing pink forehead, he found me in the kitchen.

“It’s beautiful out there, Roxy. You should go, too.”

“I’m kind of busy,” I said. “Running this place…”

“You’ve got reservations for the week end, you’ve done your shopping and laundry. You probably know what you’re cooking for every meal, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Well, take some time tomorrow and catch a few rays. It won’t hurt anything, and you need to unwind.”

I was tempted to ask if he’d talked to Margaret.

When Wednesday dawned with humidity already thick enough to drive nails into, I decided he was right. I put a bottle of water, a can of sunblock, and a paperback in a tote, then found my cap and sunglasses and sandals and plodded back to the beach just after noon. It was almost as deserted as the previous time, and I spread my blanket and lay down to read, the ocean rumble filling my ears, punctuated by the occasional seagull.

The sun became warm on my shoulders and I dug into my tote for the sunblock when I heard a familiar voice.

“Roxy, great. But you’re going to burn like a potato chip if you don’t get some block on there.”

Ed looked down at me in my tiny little thong, a towel draped around his neck and his chest glistening with sweat and moisturizer. And beads of water.

“I didn’t see you here,” I said, trying not to blush.

“I was probably out in the water when you came or I would have noticed you.”

His eyes ran up and down my legs and stopped at my tight little butt. I cleared my throat. Without a shirt, his shoulders and chest looked wider and deeper than I’d expected.

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