An Unknown Relative - Sex Stories

An Unknown Relative

... imagine how they found me. I try to make it hard to find me. I don’t use cell phones and I don’t use computers. I haven’t been in the States for fifteen years and I had changed berths twice this year. I must have slipped somewhere. I sat down and drank my beer. The Jacks Full is a comfortable old tub. It was built for a Columbian d**g lord back in the seventies and she was a mess when I got her. I had her in tip top shape now. She had 120 feet of waterline and three nice roomy cabins. Her twin diesels could make 20 knots in a good sea and I had a nice little 24 foot runabout I towed. I finished the deck work and put on a coat of spar varnish while I thought about what was going on. When I was done I had made up my mind. I would check the situation out and see what was up. Whatever happened I knew I had to see that gorgeous girl again. I showered and put on khakis and a polo shirt and my best deck shoes. I sprayed a little body spray on and brushed my teeth. I got the little Glock 9mm auto out and put on a rig. I pulled on a black jacket and looked myself over. I’m 40-years old. A life on the water gave me that deep-water tan and I have blonde hair, bleached almost white by the sun. I keep it short and bristly. I had put on about five pounds and I knew I needed to take it off. It gets harder the older I get. I’m six four and weigh 240 pounds in fighting trim. I have an exercise room with a treadmill and lots of free weights that I spend a lot more time in than I want to. I ...

... put on my Oakley’s and went down to the car. I have a 1969 El Camino Super Sport. It’s red with the black Chevy SS stripes. It’s a 396 stroker and it rumbled to life, turning a few heads in the parking lot. I drove to the Flamingo and checked the front desk. They didn’t have a Pendry McDonald registered. I thought for a minute. They did have a Pendry Roberts. I called her room and heard that husky little voice over the phone. I told her I had contacted Benson McDonald and he wanted to meet her. She agreed to meet in the restaurant in an hour. You needed reservations to eat at the Flamingo so I made them for an hour later and I went to the bar. I watched a soccer game, drank a beer and ate peanuts. I was waiting when she came down and she had the suit with her. “Where’s Mr. McDonald?” he asked. “Who wants to know?” I asked him. “I represent Reilly, Swindoll and Crouch,” he said. “We’re a law firm.” “You should represent yourself,” I told him. “Dinner reservations are for two. If you want to make an appointment with Mr. McDonald you’ll have to make your own. This one isn’t for you.” He looked at her and she nodded. He disappeared and I offered her my arm. She took it and the guy at the desk seated us. “So, you’re my father,” she said. “I’d like to be, but no; I don’t think I am,” I told her. “Maybe we can just be friends.” Any further conversation was interrupted by our waiter. I ordered us a bottle of wine and he left menus and went to get the wine. “I’m not old enough to drink ...