Daily Dose of Eros - Yacht Club

The Rushcutters Bay Yacht Club

My family went out on the weekend to a Yacht Club located fairly near my home where my brother is a member.
Now I'm not the yacht club type. When it come to that thrill you get when hanging out where the other half live, I prefer artists or alternative lifestylers to the very wealthy. After all, my day job is as an accountant, so when you get to know a lot about money, you get less and less impressed with those who have it. For me the very best thing about the yacht club is getting to hang with my brothers, their wives, their daughters and my family.

However, this time, there were two things that made this trip a little special, and reminded me of my daily commitment to the erotic life.

The first was the balmy weather and sitting with good food and great company next to the lapping, lilting caress of the salty ocean. the weather was perfect, not too hot, but sunny enough that the sun teased us into the shade to cool. We laughed and chatted, breathed in the clean fresh air, my brothers drank "breakfast beer" and we played with the little girls. The feel of the sun, the smell of the ocean, the taste of bitter coffee the sights of the boats and the sounds of gulls and laughter made me feel better than any amount of money could ever do.

Elizabeth Taylor in a blue Kaftan

The second dose of eros came in the form of a couple sitting at a nearby table. They were older people in their twilight years, he wore a badge that explained he was hard of hearing and had trouble seeing and carried a cane. They were stooped and wrinkled, enjoying themselves at their favorite yacht club at their favorite table. What was special about them was their clothing. Both were dressed in expensive, designer wear direct from the early 1970's. They had the clothes retro shops dream of, she in a royal blue silk kaftan and he in his harry high pants white safari suit. The clothing seemed to have come off a catwalk yesterday, it was immaculately preserved, and of the highest quality. He wore a straw fedora and she had her scant, over-dyed hair piled up high on the top of her head in elaborate curls. She was very heavily made up, her lipstick sitting in the place where lips used to be, her eye shadow caking into the multitudinous eye lines, giant false eye lashes weighing each lid down. They shared a bottle of very expensive champagne and flirted without self consciousnesses.

My brother said they are there every day, dressed in their exotic 1970's fashions, at the same table, with their bottle of bubbly. He said no matter how busy the club gets, this couple claim their spot, their well earned right, to sit, dress, relax and enjoy life exactly as they please.