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On the drive back I glanced over at Charlie. He was being his phlegmatic self. I commented, "I noticed you didn't say much back there." "I didn't have to. You had it pretty well covered." I grinned. We'd been together for over seven years. My dad ran a dry-dock back in the day. When a Coast Guard refit project went wrong and they screwed up several of their Island class patrol boats, dad bought one for its scrap value. Two year's work later it made one doozy of a fishing boat, capable of handling force 5 seas. It was a pretty big ship for two guys to handle, being 34 meters long and having a 3.4 meter beam. We had it painted battleship gray because we couldn't afford waste all our time painting it. After dad died I sold off the dry-dock to pay the creditors and inheritance taxes. The remainder went into the bank as a pad. After five years fishing I hadn't had to draw down on it but for a little. The V16 Cat diesels were thirsty. We were due for an overhaul soon to keep our insurance. She laughed and resumed massaging my crotch with her thigh.We danced for a lengthy while before eventually returning to our table and Chris; my body was now sticky with sweat. Chris had apparently gone on a couple more drinks without us, and it was Justin who finally said we ought to return home. Chris could barely walk straight as we made it out of the club. Justin said that was how he often after he’d guzzled more than two glasses of scotch. We laid him in the backseat while I drove with Justin seated beside me.We got to an intersection and the traffic light turned red before we could cross. As we waited, Justin suddenly let go of her seat belt and turned to kiss me. I was taken aback by her action but returned her kiss as well, even though her husband lay sprawled in the back seat, inebriated. Her hand traveled downward to grab my dick that had sprung to its tent pole form once again. She withdrew when we noticed the light turn green and we drove on; neither of us said anything.
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