by E. C. Towers
Driftwood Cove Trilogy
Complete Series
E. C. Towers
For My Friend, Joey.
Thank you for taking the time to really see inside my soul, for listening to the song in my heart, and then responding, “You know what? You should totally write about fucking.”
1
Watch Me
Hardie walked into the bustling restaurant on his first day of work as a dishwasher, still in disbelief that he was finally on his own. Four months ago, his girlfriend had dumped him; the very same girl that Hardie had proudly purchased an engagement ring for. As she explained her general dissatisfaction with him, Hardie had an out-of-body experience. He realized that everything she had to say about their relationship was, in fact, true. Hardie had never noticed any of the obvious signs she was able to list so effortlessly. He had simply tricked himself into a pleasant delusion that all between them was great. It was a denial so deeply comforting that he had actually purchased a fucking engagement ring.
Hardie was genuinely glad the girl had broken up with him and thrilled when the jeweler smiled awkwardly at the news and provided a full refund. The revelation had left him with a healthy cushion of cash in his bank account, and Hardie knew he wanted to start over on fresh ground. He packed up his junk and moved to Driftwood Cove, a picturesque seaside town on the California coast that could have easily been the work of an artist at Walt Disney Studios, hundreds of miles away from his hometown and memories. As soon as he arrived, Hardie filled out applications for every restaurant, bar, and liquor store willing to accept them along the town’s harbor boardwalk. It wasn’t too long before he was hired at Edges, an upper-end establishment situated right by the boating docks. It was a small restaurant, frequented by locals and tourists alike, which served fine dining options with a casual, beachside ambiance that would never run short of magnificent sunsets.
“Hey!” Billy motioned for Hardie to join him at the sinks. “Okay dude, it’s not rocket science. You’ll get a cart of dirty dishes. You rinse out all the crap and place them into another cart. After you fill three carts, stack them on these rollers. Then roll them over to the dishwasher and put them inside, got it?”
Hardie nodded and got to work on the healthy pile of dishes that were already waiting for him. He was a very hard worker, and soon the hustle and bustle in the kitchen slowed down enough for Hardie to notice the kitchen staff and waiters nervously whispering amongst each other.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Hardie asked Tim, the other dishwasher working beside him.
“Hmm?” Tim looked up, barely fazed by the sudden change in the room.
“What’s going on? Why is everyone so… tense?”
Tim looked around briefly before returning to his dishes, “Oh, Linda St. John must be coming tonight.”
Hardie looked at him, confused.
“Linda St. John?” Tim asked in disbelief when Hardie didn’t immediately react to her name.
“Who’s she?” Hardie asked.
“Oh, dude, Linda St. John is kind of famous around here. Ask anyone about her and they'll tell you,” Tim smiled and winked at him.
“I am asking anyone. I’m asking you. Who is she? Why is she such a big deal?” Hardie started to suspect that Tim wasn’t a stranger to the receiving end of a bong.
“Oh, right, I forgot you’re a newbie around here. Okay, Newbie, here’s the quick Linda bio. Her husband was the mayor, David St. John. He was the mayor here for a pretty long time, and people loved him, but they only put up with her. All the women in town were in agreement that the mayor was a good-looking dude; this guy could have probably nabbed a supermodel, but instead he got with Linda, who's fucking hot, but she was a little older than him and kind of quiet, ya know? Mysterious. No one knew where she was from or how they met. Everyone expected him to be with someone like him, and she was the total opposite. Anyways, the mayor had a freak accident when he was rock climbing and died a year ago. She sold their huge house and just started living on their yacht. Everyone thought for sure Linda would take off, since she never had any friends in the town, but she stayed for who-knows-what reason. And now… well, there’s some pretty kinky stories about what goes down on that yacht.”
Tim winked again before filling in Hardie on the rumors going around town, most interestingly that Linda had been hosting parties on the yacht. Secret sex parties. Orgies. Allegedly, people who participated in them were sworn to secrecy, lest they should have their party privileges revoked.
“Have you ever met anyone who’s gone to these parties?”
“Probably. I don’t know, because even if I had met someone who had gone, they’d never tell, so I’d never know.”
Hardie was intrigued to learn who this Linda was and what her sex parties were all about. Coming off a long-distance relationship with his first love, his sexual experiences were limited to one woman. The craziest thing they had ever tried together was doing it in her bathroom while her parents were watching television in the living room.
A sex orgy. It seemed like something out of a movie. And Hardie found himself suddenly hot to be a part of it. He wiped off his hands and told Tim he was taking a break. Tim barely acknowledged him with a nod. Hardie walked outside and lit a cigarette, hoping that if he hung out there long enough, he'd get a quick glance at this infamous Linda St. John.
“You waiting for her?”
Hardie nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice come up from behind him. He turned around and saw one of the sous chefs standing there.
“What? No. I’m on my break man; that’s all.” He tried to appear cool and casual, taking a drag off his cigarette.
“Hey, it's cool, bro. What do you think I’m out here for? I'm Charlie, by the way. You're the new guy, right?”
“Yeah... Hardie.” They shook hands briefly before Hardie asked him about Linda.
“Linda’s hot as fuck, man. Shit, maybe if she sees me...” Charlie smiled, combing his fingers through the sparse hair left on top of his head. “If she sees me this time, I might get an invite to one of those parties.”
Hardie shrugged and blew out his smoke. “Really, I don’t even know who she is, let alone am I interested to see what she looks like.”
Charlie’s head shot up as they both heard the slow crunch of tires moving over asphalt. Hardie saw a tinted-out Mercedes Maybach limousine pulling up to the restaurant.
“Well kid, today is your lucky day. You’re about to see the sex queen of Driftwood Cove.”
Hardie tried not to appear anxious as he side-eyed the gunmetal gray limo, slowing to a stop. The chauffeur jumped out of the driver's seat, and Hardie suddenly felt like he was watching a movie as a long, taut leg emerged in slow motion from the vehicle. The leg was followed by the curve of a hip that led up to a pair of excellent breasts, appearing to be just a smidge more than a handful. Standing up in the light, Linda had arrived for the world to see. Donned in a crisp, cream-colored suit with a matching skirt and large pair of sunglasses, her surprisingly delicate face was framed effortlessly by her dark, coffee-colored hair.
St. John was clearly the main character of this town while the other residents were merely extras; scenery to her high-resolution life. Hardie caught her glancing briefly over his way. She was probably checking out the new ‘extra’ that had moved into her personal movie set. Hardie made the decision, then and there, that he wasn’t just going to be a supporting cast to her soft porn Cinemax special. He was going to be a major player. Not only was he going to be invited to one of her parties, but he was also going to have Linda St. John, one-on-one.
Tim burst out laughing when Hardie came back from break and told h
im about his plans to be invited to one of Linda’s parties.
“Dude... those are high hopes for dishwasher, Newbie. You know how many people want in on that boat? Take a number.”
Hardie ignored him. Even with Tim’s laid back, stoned-as-fuck demeanor, there was a hint of resentment and mock in those words. Hardie even got side-eyed by Charlie outside, noticing that St. John had paid the newbie a quick once-over. He wasn’t surprised by their reactions. Linda seemed to be an impossible prize. No ‘town extra,’ especially a dishwasher no one ever heard of, could possibly win her.
Watch me, Hardie thought.
2
The Party
Hardie found himself strolling by the bay where Linda's yacht was moored later that evening. No one had told him which one it was. Easily the largest vessel on the in the harbor, it’s massive black structure took up the entire end of the longest dock, though it managed to seem hidden behind the sight of dozens of white boats now under the cloak of the evening. Hardie hadn't seen Linda again at the restaurant after that first distant encounter, and he still wasn’t sure exactly what she looked like. She was clearly beautiful, clearly older, and she clearly worked out. Still, the details were a blur, like seeing a masterpiece from far away. It fed his curiosity. What color were her eyes underneath those sunglasses? Blue? Hazel? Were they piercing or kind? And what sort of body did she really have under that silk? She was older, but so fit that he couldn't tell if she was even 40. He imagined what it would be like to take off her bra, to release her from her self-imposed restriction, and tousle that finely coiffed hair, having his way with her.
Hardie adjusted himself, having let his imagination get the best of him. He had decided to go home and end the evening by rubbing one out when he noticed some movement on the boat. Was he seeing things? Hardie had been staring at it so long that he thought the lights might be playing tricks on him.
No, there were definitely people boarding that yacht.
He walked slowly to the boat for a closer look and noticed a man and woman laughing quietly as they ascended the lit ramp leading into the yacht. There was a party! This was the party, and it was happening now. He couldn’t believe his dumb luck.
Hardie squinted to try to get a good look at anyone else walking into the yacht, but the fog had rolled in, making everything blurry. Impatient, he decided to approach the boat. Maybe all it took was having the balls to simply walk in and act like he belonged. He wished that balls were all that were required, but he suspected it wasn’t going to be that easy.
As he walked up, the boat seemed absolutely silent. No movement, no lights, but most of all, the ramp leading up to the boat was nowhere to be found.
He looked around and began to question if he was having hallucinations, when he heard footsteps coming from his left. Frantic, Hardie jumped on to a small rowboat tied to the dock near the yacht. He laid down flat inside of it, disappearing from view.
Judging from their footsteps and quiet talking, there were two couples approaching. Hardie heard a humming noise and picked up his head to peek at the elusive ramp as it reappeared into view. When the couples walked onto the boat, Hardie quietly climbed out of the rowboat, hoping to follow. A low hum revealed to his eyes precisely where the yacht ramp was lifting up off the dock to disappearing into the hull.
What the hell kind of nautical transformer yacht did this woman own? The ramp didn’t seem to be controlled by anyone. He wondered if it was similar to one of those automatic sliding doors at the grocery store, which only moved when it detected movement. He walked back and forth in front of where he saw the ramp go in, but nothing happened, much to his disappointment.
He crawled back to the rowboat and laid down. Hardie figured he’d wait for another group of people to come and discover how he could follow them in. Within minutes, he heard the footsteps and quiet talking of more sex party guests. He looked up and saw the shadowy figure of a man produce what sounded like a small cell phone from his pocket. He pointed it at the boat, and Hardie heard the familiar hum of the ramp magically appearing again.
He crawled up out of the rowboat and crouched low in the darkness as he watched them get on the boat. As soon as they turned the corner and the ramp started its low humming noise, Hardie made a mad dash towards it, jumping barely well enough reach the retracting ramp. He ran up to the boat as quietly and swiftly as he could, ducking into a dark hallway.
Everything was dark. He looked down the hallway, saw movement and followed it. If there was a party going on, it definitely wasn’t happening here. Hardie walked through a plush living room. He had to walk carefully to avoid bumping about. It was pitch black in the room, and he began to wonder if there really was a party going on, or if Tim and the guys from the restaurant had cleverly made up those rumors to bring some excitement to their boring lives. In fact, he was almost positive that nothing was going on, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around and get out. Party or no party, he had to see Linda.
Hardie wondered what he would see when he finally arrived at the end of the boat.
Suddenly, the shadowy figures in front of him stopped and crouched down on the floor. What the hell were they doing? Hardie was still having trouble seeing anything, and it would be too risky to get any closer. There was a low hum of machinery, similar to that of the ramp and suddenly, and a light came up from the floor. One of the figures had opened a hatch from the floor, revealing a narrow flight of stairs. What was this bad Eyes Wide Shut cliché that he'd silently walked into?
One by one, the figures descended the narrow flight of stairs and disappeared. The hatch began to close again, and without thinking, Hardie scrambled onto the stairs before it shut.
He made it just in time for the hatch to hit him on the head, causing him to lose his balance before tumbling into a group of men and women standing near the stairs.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry. I tripped and…” Hardie stammered to the large guy he fell into.
“No worries, dude. Congratulations, by the way.” The giant, juiced-out ginger man, with a neck larger than his leg, smiled and nodded at Hardie proudly.
“Um, well… Thanks.”
“For making it to the party, I mean. I can tell that you’re new.” Ginger and Hardie weaved through small clusters of people until they ended up in front of a raised platform.
“Here, this is where it’s going to be,” Ginger dude told him. “Sit down. Your life is about to change for the better, my man. Happy you could join us.”
Hardie barely paid attention to what this man was saying, anticipating he would be tackled by security at any second. But so far, so good. This guy thought he was a new member, and it wasn’t exactly a lie. He was new. In fact, everything about this was new.
He stood close to the group and acted like he came in with them, figuring it would make him less noticeable to everyone in the room. The lights lowered and a man and woman walked onto the raised platform. Without hesitation, they began to take off each other’s clothes. Hardie stared at the man with dark wavy hair and muscled arms as he unzipped the woman’s skirt from behind, grinding his crotch against her and kissing her neck. The woman's body responded, pushing out her firm ass to grind right back into him. She was wearing sheer white panties underneath her skirt, and Hardie was sitting so close to the action that he could tell she was already wet.
The woman turned around, got down on her knees and unzipped the guy's jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers. His hard cock was up at attention as she slowly took him into her mouth. He gathered and held her long brown hair out of the way so that everyone could see her go to work. Hardie couldn’t believe his eyeballs were still in their sockets. He was suddenly aware that he was standing with his mouth agape, and had to consciously make an effort to keep his mouth closed.
Pretty soon, the attractive couple on stage were both naked and fucking right in the middle of a very captivated audience. Hardie observed some of them had started pleasuring themselves, as well as others around them. Th
e energy in the room was both thrilling and frightening.
His mind was spinning with the sea of flesh that he was caught in the middle of. The couple onstage were now doing it doggy style, with the man aggressively driving himself into her, conscious that he was performing a show. He grabbed his glistening cock for a moment to display it, gently sliding between the soft folds of her vagina, spreading her wetness everywhere to make her thighs glisten for the audience. Hardie suddenly felt a strange hand reach around from behind to grab the rock hard lump that had been growing in his pants.
3
The Audition
Holy shit. Who the fuc…? He jerked at the brave touch, and another hand grabbed him firmly, as if to settle him down. He squinted to see them through the shadows and saw that they were a pair of small, phantom hands that pulled against his body, and he felt a pair of breasts stroking up against him back.
“What are you doing here?” the woman’s voice whispered in his ear before she licked it. She freed his cock from his pants at lightning speed, so quickly that he didn’t have enough time to be embarrassed, now in full view of the guests. But as Hardie looked around, he noticed the people around him remained focused on the performance, paying no attention to the strange girl pulling on his exposed member.
Even if Hardie had wanted to answer her question, he definitely couldn’t do it now, watching her knead his throbbing cock between her smooth fingers. Hardie instinctively grabbed her hand to try and release her grip, but he ended up just urging her on, forcing her to stroke him exactly how he wanted. Just when Hardie thought he was going to come, the hand and woman attached to it disappeared into the crowd.
Hardie pulled up his pants as he turned around quickly to see who had been groping him. He saw the woman running ahead of him into another room. He zipped up and casually followed her through a tight corridor into a softy-lit bedroom.
