Danny's Sea-Do Inn Motel Bk. 01

It’s 2010, and I want to start my tale by telling you that I am an eighteen-year-old high school senior a few weeks away from graduation. I have been working first part-time then and now full-time since I was thirteen. I’m Dan Allen Bogart Jr. my dad was Danny Arthur Bogart Sr. of the Sea-Do Inn, a forty-room motel just off the beach twenty minutes down from the seawall. My Mom, a forty-four-year-old dirty beach blond Brenda Jean Bogart, and I have been running the place without my dad for four years now.

One night, he jumped the shark by drunk driving his car off the seawall and died. I was almost fifteen when it happened; my dad’s love of drinking and driving did him in. He was too drunk to stand, but Dad drove back from whatever bar dad was drinking in. He always told us he could handle a buzz on any road. My Mom, Brenda, was so devastated when the police gave us the news, and I had to go identify his body not my idea of a fun day, but such is life.

My hot Mom stands six feet in flats and looks excellent at a hundred and forty pounds with an hourglass figure. Her breast are modest in size; cute peaches come to mind. Her blue eyes match mine, but hers turn bluer when she’s mad mine go bloodshot red. Although I stand six foot two, my swimming and gym workouts have kept my one hundred seventy pounds trim without a six-pack, a typical swimmer’s body.

I swim two miles down the beach every other day, and depending on the tide or wind, I would run or swim back to our home. Swim, don’t think, swim, count my strokes. It worked most days, keeping my mind off my hot Mom’s body, or it did till my Mom walked in on my shower. In her shock, she let go of her robe. It fell open; we both got a good show of each other. It changed my dreams a lot. I only feel a little bad about closing my eyes to see my Mom, Brenda, again and how fast it makes me come when I do. I was playing with my boner talk about turning red or Mom; it was a tie. It was a few seconds we stood there we both smiled, knowing nothing should ever come of it. We have yet to discuss it; that was two weeks ago. So much more has happened since then that it seems less critical.

Swim, don’t think, swim, count my strokes. I had a stormy night last night. It was to be ‘The Night‘ where my girl Bobbie and I were to lose our virginity at the hotel room I paid for after the senior prom. But, unfortunately, my night took a change for the worst when the love of my life, my girlfriend of two years, sold me out and drudged my first glass of champagne.

I don’t drink; seeing your dad dead on a slab had that kind of effect on me. I was stripped of my clothes and dignity, and I was marked up with laundry markers in three colors of dicks and taunts calling me names. They were drawn over most of my body; the killer was a toss-up of the dick in my mouth or a two-inch tiny dick on my tummy just under my belly button.

The football team and my girlfriend’s new man, apparently the quarterback, stripped me, marked me up, put me in the elevator drunk and naked, and tossed me out in the lobby to end up arrested and spent the night in the drunk tank. Facing charges, and what scared me the most. There were people from school who had their phones up taking photos. I am a grower, not a shower. I’m about four and a half inches soft and maybe less from the drug. Still, if hard because I was thinking about my hot Mom. It stands a good seven inches proud with the thickness of a small energy drink can the red and blue can. That’s not helping right now; damn, my hard-on is acting like a small rudder.

My Mom’s friend’s sons bailed me out and dropped me off, so my Mom has not seen me yet nor heard about it. So I came in, grabbed my wet suit, and hit the beach, telling Mom from the office door she heard me she did not see me.

I say. “Going for a swim; I had to burn off energy after last night.”

A half truth but true enough. Slipping out of our suites at the Motel, we had a two-story home built on the side of the building, three bedrooms, two baths, and a good size kitchen. We put in a hot tub after we remodeled after dads insurance money came in.

Turning back to the house, I can’t make headway against the riptide, so I go a little farther to run back to the beach. What do you tell your Mom? I guess she going to see the dicks on my face sooner or later. I have to work the morning shift at the front desk. I got it. I’ll put my Zinc sunscreen on and say I burned under the tanning bed before prom. So I jogged back and waved to the police on beach patrol as the jeep made a U-turn. Finally, the car started to catch up to me. I see it’s the hot lady, officer Susan, my Mom’s friend. Her vest makes her look flat-chested, but I have seen her in a swimsuit, and she is not flat-chested.

She waved me over to her jeep and handed me a coffee, and Susan asked. “How are you doing? Your Mom know yet?”

She’s my Mom’s friend starting back in middle school.

I answered. “I’m fine till my Mom sees my new artwork. After that, I’m pretty sure I’m grounded until I’m twenty-one if I’m not dead first.”

Susan says. “It’s going to be worse than you think. Don’t talk to anyone other than your Mom or lawyer. You can’t trust a cop if they ask you. Your girlfriend’s dad might be behind the calls. The T.V. news sent a crew to the hotel. Your name was not released, but someone called them, and the school board called for your booking record. For all this to happen so fast means the fix is in. Don’t go to school Monday my fourteen-year-old daughter saw you in all your glory, and it’s posted online. She is not allowed on anymore. Son, they are going to have you removed from school. You’re off the swim team. You getting out of high school is a real question; give us some time to see what we can find out about the guys who did this to you. Stay home, son, and tell your Mom I bet the news crews will find out your name, and Brenda will find out sooner or later; tell her now.”

I thanked Susan and ran home with no thought other than no scholarship, no college, not on our income. Running a motel is not cheap. We live too close to the edge. I walk into my room by going up the back stairs to shower, and nothing is coming off. I scrub for a good twenty minutes. I walk into the kitchen, see coffee, and make a cup for myself and one for my Mom. I step into the office, the door there leads to the counter. Mom was finishing up with a guest and stepped to the office and saw the dick on my face. She couldn’t help it and started laughing.

I say. “Mom, this is no laughing matter. Susan said the news crew are looking for me. They may find photos or videos of me naked, marked, and drugged online. Bobbie gave me my first glass of champagne; it had something in it. That’s all that I had, I swear. I used my one phone call to her instead of your Mom thinking she would call her dad and get me out. That was not the case; she seemed behind the whole thing. Susan said the school board has the video or knows about the video and to not go to school as they are tossing me out of school. My scholarship is gone if I can’t graduate high school; I’ll have to get a GED. Mom, that was my future.”

Mom is holding her hand over her mouth and says. “Your kidding, right?”

I shook my head; she saw my face as she tried to rub the dick off my face by licking her fingers and rubbing them hard.

Holding my face in her hands, she kissed me first on the cheek, then the other as she looked into my eyes, she teared up and says. “We got through it together; when your dad died, we will get through this. I love you, baby.”

Then she did the unspeakable she kissed me on my mouth; it felt so hot, and damn. I was burning in hell. Lighting struck us both; we both turned red in the face. Mom’s nipples popped against my chest as my hardness sprang to its fullness. Brenda had to have felt it. Damn, the room got hot, and it seemed to spin. I looked, and Mom’s eyes closed as I returned the kiss hard. Kissing Bobbie was like doing a wet fish, not this! The sin we were seconds away from slipping you my tongue, saved by the bell. The driveway bell dinged as my Mom rested her head against my hard chest for a few seconds as she centered herself.

I say. “Mom, I go put Zinc on my face and do the chores. I love you, Mom, beyond words.”

Mom turned to the desk to wait on the guest as I put Zinc on my face. I looked at the chores board and saw two rooms that need unstopped drains; Sunday, the cleaning lady is not due to work till after church.

I grab my tools and pass keys to the first room as I knock on the door to ensure the space is empty. You only do that once; that ugly old guy was doing two hookers was enough to want to pour bleach in my eyes after, not doing that again. I worked till almost lunch, and Mom called me on my two-way radio to say she had a sandwich waiting for me. She ran out for a while, and I needed to cover the desk. Getting to the office, I see a note on the table; the message read. “Running to see her friend from the hotel downtown and pay her back for sending her sons to get me out of jail.”

So I watched the front desk, ate lunch, and made more coffee. Putting out fresh donuts for the police, they swing by a few times daily. This was where they turned around to use our restroom before returning to town. Mom enjoyed seeing them; you never want to piss them off. They made a few calls out here to break up a fight or two.

One of the officers who came by took me downtown as he drank his coffee says. “Well, Dan, your toast; your girlfriend’s dad called us in; last night’s prom had us running a double shift. My partner took the 911 call and said your girl pointed you out as her friends laughed. Everyone from your school was taking photos or videos of you. Did you just drink too much, and you got hazed?”

I started to talk, and what Susan said suddenly came to mind.

I say. “I’m not sure everything is hazy. My recall is fuzzy.”

As Mom came back in, hearing me say that. Mom and I had difficulty meeting eyes; it was like we both knew the officer knew we had kissed earlier. Finally, he left; he did not want to talk in front of my Mom. Odd, he was pumping me for info like we were long-lost best friends.