0 comments/ 89664 views/ 2 favorites Sailing Away By: Dazman One of my favourite retreats from the turmoil of today's stock market in the old pearling town of Broome situated on the North Western coast of Australia. Nestled quietly amongst the lush mango swamps of Roebuck Bay, the vast expanses of red sandy dessert and the serene beauty of Cable Beach, Broome is a popular holiday destination for tourists who span a wide range of cultures. I have a rustic beach shack close to Gantheume Point and 30-foot yacht, Botany Bay, moored close to the main quay safely sheltered by the anchorage of Roebuck Bay. The best time and indeed the only time to visit this part of the country is during the winter months when the elements of nature aren't tempted to throw the odd cyclone your way. The temperature is usually a constant 35 degrees Celsius with seawater to match and those conditions, my friends, couldn't be more agreeable. Despite this regularity, Mother Nature is fickle and the budding amateur mariner must prepare for all eventualities such as spontaneous and unannounced storms. I love the sea and I love sailing up and down the coast of Western Australia but because of its sheer vastness and foreboding nature this section of coastline has wrecked many a fine ship. In the past, numerous sailors from such exalted and experienced sea faring nations as Holland and England have come to blows on the hidden reefs and uncharted islands that infest Shipwreck Coast. The inexorable march of technology has not totally eliminated the perils that exist and the unsuspecting and the disrespectful can still easily flounder and perish. Whilst taking advantage of all the latest maritime gadgets, I still rely on human intuition, the 'feel' of the sea, and I certainly treat the ocean with much respect. After all to do anything less invites disaster, just look at the Titanic, in 1912 the greatest advancements in maritime technology could not save the 1512 men, women and children who perished in the icy expanse of the North Atlantic. Last August then, I decided to get out of town for a while and take in some scenery. I was planning to sail well north of Broome to the remote but visually stunning Buccaneer Archipelago and King Sound. Humans have seldom spent any appreciable amount of time in this part of the world and it had been on my 'To do list' for a long time. My companions on this trip were Walter, my best friend, Teresea, my song writing partner and the bass player in The Savoy Swing Katz, her housemate, Jane and their mutual friend Elise. Our last guest had a thing for Walt and although he denied it flatly there was some mutual attraction happening. After spending a three days in Broome planning and victualling for the trip we weighed anchor and unfurled the sails. Conditions were perfect with the wind happily sending us along the coast to our first destination, Derby, where we stopped for additional supplies before heading out to the wild blue yonder. In keeping with my history fetish, I had procured a British Admiral's uniform from the Napoleonic era on a recent trip to England and during the evenings would dress up like Admiral Lord Nelson and pace the decks to the mirth and merriment of the crew. Walt and I took turns piloting our fair vessel whilst the girls happily cooked, cleaned and sunbathed. The scenery was fantastic with the sea as blue as the heavens and proving a kaleidoscopic view of the world that exists beneath that calm serenity. The many islands that made up the archipelago, some small others quite formidable completed a breathtaking vista. Much fishing and snorkelling were partaken and when the wind was up we'd all have a go at boom netting or bow diving. Sometimes, the evenings were spent onboard whilst other were spent on one of the many islands the punctuated the glassy blue and each night showcased the brightly lit immensity of the cosmos. As can be expected much alcohol was consumed and with three hot chicks and two over-sexed guys the atmosphere was very much erotically charged. Teresea is a true blonde, while Elise is strawberry and Jane a fiery redhead. All three are built for hot action and, being well aware of this, love to exhibit their assets at every available opportunity. This trip was no exception. All three purchased designer bikinis that left nothing to the imagination and teased Walt and I to breaking point. Teresea and I have a little history, are very attracted to one and other but have been trying desperately to resist the forbidden fruit since we enjoy a very close professional relationship. Although having said all that we have succumb to our desires and those occasions have revealed a very tantalising look at what could be. We all flirted with each other and to my surprise even the girls were hinting at a bit of bi action adding further spice to the trip. One day we moored off one of the windward islands that the charts indicated had several freshwater wells. Whilst not running low we decided to take advantage of the opportunity and top up our supplies. Walt volunteered to do the reconnaissance in the rowboat, locate the wells and report back. The idea being that we would establish the shortest route with Walt and I returning later with the casks to fill up. Walt loved the rowboat as he was obsessed with fitness and usually preferred to go on his own but on this occasion however he appeared more than happy to accept a passenger, Elise. Teresea and Jane both made a big deal about this and teased both occupants of the boat mercilessly. Against this onslaught there was no reply. I expressed surprise as well but observed the body language from behind reflective sunnies and chuckled to myself. As the rowboat approached the shore, I observed their progress through my binoculars and couldn't resist a grin when I saw them fall playfully in the sand together and disappear from view. This 'reckie' was going to be longer than expected, not that I was worried, time simply didn't matter out here. I was feeling a little tired and decided to head below for a short nap leaving the girls to their topless bathing, music and champagne. I had noticed some threatening clouds way off to the west and left instructions to be awakened if anything untoward happens. Sleep came easily and deeply but after what seemed like five minutes slumber I awoke to the sound of running steps and giggling. Glancing at my watch I saw that I'd been out for nearly forty-five minutes and decided to check out the activity in case Walt and Elise were on their way back. As I walked through the galley I glanced out of the port window and the sight that greeted me made me jump in surprise. I was gazing upon the spectacular and naked forms of Teresea and Jane in the classic sixty-nine pose. Teresea being the tallest was on the bottom with Jane's pussy and arse clearly in view and she was positively saturated. From my viewpoint I could clearly see Jane's pussy spasming and leaking golden nectar down her thighs. Teresea's tongue was furiously working on her flatmate's clit. It looked to me that Jane was very close to orgasm and this I had to see. My cock was boiling beneath my shorts and within seconds I was completely naked stroking my member with slow deliberate strokes, I wanted this to last. Their cries of passion were audible and it seemed as though events were reaching a crescendo. All of a sudden Jane came and with such force that she shot out pussy juice hitting the galley window and completely drenching Teresea. I nearly lost it there and then but regained control, as I knew that I had to take advantage of this turn of events. As I came on deck Teresea was in the throws of a huge orgasm with Jane feeding off her quivering pussy. This sort of sight was new to me with the closest I ever got to hardcore lesbian action was via the silver screen. Unable to stand it any longer I suddenly piped up, "Excuse me ladies is there room for one more?" Expecting a huge reaction I was mildly disappointed when they both chimed in, "Uh huh." I knew then that this was a put up job but that wasn't going to deter me one iota. The two girls untangled themselves and crawled over to me; they could see that I didn't require any preliminary work as that could wait until later. "Turn around" I growled at them. They complied giggling and wiggling their bums at me. As they did this, their assets being right in my face offered a sumptuous feast and I knelt down behind Jane and buried my face in her beautiful arse and pussy, running my tongue from her clit slit to her arsehole, coating her nether regions in saliva. I slowly worked a finger from my right hand into her sweet pussy while stabbing my tongue into her arsehole. My left hand was massaging and fingering Teresea's clit, pussy and arsehole as well. Both girls were visibly excited kissing each other passionately. Jane suddenly spun around and begged me to let her suck my cock. I agreed and moved onto Teresea. I know this woman and I know how to get her off. She loves any stimulation to her arsehole and so I attacked her puckered opening with frenzy. She responded immediately and came over my probing fingers. Meanwhile Jane found my swollen pole, hard and stiff, she took it deep in her mouth, swallowing my entire length easily. She worked me with such professional skill that, to prevent myself from unloading right there, I had to think about those threatening clouds in the sky. But I was fighting an uphill battle, the twin effect of Jane's expert mouth and Teresea's responsive bunghole took me over the edge and I came real hard blasting stream after stream of thick gooey cum down Jane's throat all the while screaming my lungs out in pleasurable pain. Teresea came again shortly afterwards with two of my fingers buried deep in her soaking snatch and one deep in her arse. After the last wave of pleasure rode over me I realised I was still hard and blood was still coursing through my veins. I rose up on my feet and aimed my slippery cock right into the bullseye that was Teresea's brown rosebud. She was tight and wet but I slid in easily with her arsehole greedily swallowing me. She let out a long and approving moan of pleasure as I continued my journey to the very depths of her bowels. Jane certainly didn't rest on her laurels and began to massage my balls, rim my arsehole and play with Teresea's pussy and clit. Such a talented and professional individual. Once Teresea became use to my marauding cock I began to fuck her at a good pace, giving her full deep strokes into her vice like hole. Between my cock and Jane's handiwork Teresea didn't last long cumming violently for a third time. She collapsed on the deck, falling away from me on her back breathing heavily. Jane quickly came up to take her place, she smiled sweetly, fluttering her eyelids and asking in her best schoolgirl tone, "Please sir can I have some now?" Having two stunning anal loving whores was more than even I could have hoped for. First though I wanted to experience her squirting pussy so I motioned her into the doggy position with her arse to me, I placed my cock to the entrance to her pussy and thrust inside. Man, the feeling was incredibly, she was so tight yet slick and warm. She seemed a little disappointed at first but quickly accepted her lot and began to enjoy this pussy reaming as she realised that I wanted to pound her pussy for a time. Teresea, half-conscious, must have looked a little left out for Jane adjusted her position so that she could apply her expert mouth to the pink puffiness of Teresea's pussy. And then the concert of sex began again in earnest. Both Jane and Teresea came very quickly the former so hard that I could feel her cunt walls contract so tightly that I was forced out her cunt. Looking down, my cock was dripping with a viscous white fluid that I scooped up and tasted, divine! Teresea's orgasm did not appear as strong but she would have been happy none the less. Once Jane had recovered she looked over her shoulder at me and begged me to fuck her in the arse. I eased my hard cock into her hot brown hole but was surprised at how easily she accepted me. She let out a long, "Oh yeah!" By now I really needed some release and was a little less than my usual considerate self and simply began thrusting away as soon as I was in, my balls slapping loudly against her pussy. Jane didn't seem to mind though and was soon screaming in ecstasy. Teresea had now regained herself and wiggled her way underneath Jane alternately licking snatch and balls and massaging Jane's clit. As I felt my orgasm building deep within me, Teresea slid a finger into my own arse and because of the suddenness and the pleasure I experienced I exploded into Jane's arse just as she herself began to cum. This orgasm was so much stronger than the first, I guess because of all the extra visual stimulation, that I pulled out of Jane's arse and squirted a good few streams onto Teresea's waiting face. She lapped it up greedily and without hesitating took my member all the way down her throat. This intensified my pleasure but by this time I had done cumming, my cock deflating but still jumping with electricity. As we came back to earth, kissing and exploring each other we heard voices calling off the starboard bow, "Hey, anybody there?" Our timing was perfect. Sailing Away I couldn't sleep without picturing the angry waves crashing on to the side of our ship. The image almost seemed romantic to me in a way. I laid in bed in my thin white night gown debating on going out there for myself to be with the water. Everyone else in my cabin was asleep peacefully rested in their dreams. After some time I decided to just go out there. There was no way I was going back to bed until I had gone out there. I crawled out of my bed careful not to wake the sleeping. Tip-toeing to the upper deck, I could feel the coldness of the air piercing through my nightgown, making my fine hairs stand on end and my nipples hard. I was freezing cold but I was with the epicness of the ocean. The waves crashed onto the ship just like I had imaged them in my bed. I couldn't see anyone in sight so I took the liberty of dancing on the lonely deck. Braless and free I pranced around like a ballerina or maybe like a fool. It was liberating being out there barely clothed. Once I had tired myself of dancing I leaned against of the rail to take a closer look at the water. A sudden wave rose to meet me and its cold hand came down hard upon me soaking me through and through. I stood silent in frozen shock but soon laughed. I could always laugh at myself. I looked down and could see my brown skin through the white translucent material as well as my dark drown nipples now begging to get through. My white panties were soaked too. I had never been so cold before, but never had I also felt so giddy. I started to run back to my cabin before anyone could see me but a strong voice called out for me to stop. I turned around trying my best to cover myself with my hands. It was the deckhand Roland. I did not know him, but I remembered his name from when the captain told me everyone's names and I never forget a handsome man's name. He was tall, dark haired, and his face had beautiful and perfect angles. "Sorry sir" I said quickly trying to excuse myself. "You're soaking wet, are you okay ma'am?" It tickled me when people called me ma'am, I was only 21. The look in his eye was of true concern. "I'm alright. I just wanted to get some fresh air, but I got some fresh water too," I laughed. "Well you should probably get out of those wet clothes soon," he suggested. "Here take my jacket, it doesn't take long for pneumonia to set it, believe me." Roland began to take off his jacket like a true gentleman "Oh no I don't want to take your jacket.." "No, its okay I have another one I could go get." He handed it to me and I put it on giving Roland a quick peek of my protruding nipples. I wonder if he liked what he saw. I wrapped his jacket around me snuggling into his lingering scent. It was a long warm black jacket. "May I ask what you are doing out here?" "I am on watch. Would you like to go to the observatory deck? You can see the ocean much better from there and not get wet, but you should probably get changed first." "No, its okay. Lets go." We went up to the deck. As I followed him I could not help but to enjoy the view of his back side. I bet it looks great while he made love to his lucky lady. Thrusting—man I could watch men thrust all day. I had never had sex before but I sure had watched lots of it. My nipples still hadn't calmed down as the cold got more piercing. We watched the waves for a while from the safe place until the cold was just too unbearable. Roland went ahead of me to open the door to let me out but there was a hesitation. "I think it may be locked..." That was not what I wanted to hear. At that point I was shivering to no end, but at least I was in good company. Roland tried the door some more, but it just wasn't budging. "I don't think its gonna open anytime soon. We'll have to wait 'til someone comes by." "Its okay," I managed to say through my shivering teeth. "Take off your clothes." "What?" I asked feeling a delightful tingle between my legs. "You are going to get sick. I will turn around, and you can just put my jacket back on." I did as he told me to do. As his back was turned I took off his jacket and peeled the white wet gown and panties off of my skin. I felt so weird being naked in the same room as a man. It was my first time being nude so close to the opposite sex. I already felt better having those wet clothes off. I bent down to pick up his jacket from the ground and as I came back up I felt something on my backside. "You look like you need some warming up." The warm breath sang to me. Roland was pressed closely against my backside slowly encircling my midsection. He was much warmer than his jacket could ever be on my naked skin. I closed my eyes and gave into the feeling of his touch and let go of my mind. His face nuzzled into the curve of my neck kissing me and sending electric shocks though my whole body. With his hands he warmed my begging skin. From my stomach to my round 34D breasts, lightly pinching my hard dark nipples. I wanted him to squeeze them harder. I pushed my butt deeper into this crotch, reassuring him that I like it and I wanted more. I lifted my hands and put them over his guiding his touch on my body from my breast, over my stomach, and down to my thighs. His big hands grabbed onto me wherever they could grab. I was not a fat girl but I was not stick skinny either. I felt juicy and soft and I couldn't wait for him to taste me. "Touch me in between my legs so you can see how wet you are making me." I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't. Everything felt too good and I didn't quite know what I was doing. His warmness left me for a moment while he took off his own clothes. "We gotta huddle for warmth." He smiled bringing my naked body back. Face to face he kissed me like he had wanted to kiss me for a long time. I kissed him back hard because I knew how to do that much. I didn't want him to leave my body. In between us was his hard cock pressing against my stomach. I wanted to explore the foreign object so I snuck my hand in between us and got my first touch. The soft skin covering his hardness was a delight to touch and the texture of his wet head made me giggle. He smiled back at me. "Go ahead," he whispered. Staying close to him, I slide down his body to his large and thick cock with a great joy in my heart. This would be fun. I took his cock into my hands and my eyes widened with possibility. I peeped out my tongue and took my first taste. I instantly wanted more of him. Ambitiously I took his cock into my mouth and wrapped my lips around it. I always loved sucking on popsicles and lollipops and this was just a bigger and better one. His meat filled my mouth perfectly and when I first pulled him out of my mouth he glistened. It didn't take a genius to suck a cock; all it took was a little bit of excitement and a nice set of plump lips like mine. My shyness disappeared as I licked, kissed, and sucked his cock. Once his cock was covered to the maximum in my wetness I gave his balls some attention. I wasn't done with him but he lifted me up and told me to turn around. I didn't know what he was up to but I did as I was told anyways. Starting from the back of my neck he kissed me gently all the way down to my butt. "Bend over sweetheart," he whispered softly. I bent over for him and waited for his next touch. He spread my checks and suddenly I felt his tongue touch my most private places. My pussy wanted more. I pushed myself closer to his mouth. He grabbed onto my hips and thighs and drove his tongue into my folds and holes. I couldn't help but to cry out at first in a shy whimper then I let go and started crying out as loud as I wanted to. "You are so wet," he let out just taking a quick break. He licked my pussy and my asshole aggressively driving me almost to the brink of orgasm. I loved it and would definitely want to do that again. We rose again to be face to face. I got to taste the wetness of my pussy on his lips. As we kissed I put his cock right next to my pussy. I wanted him to rub it against me and bring me to my orgasm and him to his. "Is this your first time?" he asked taking me off guard. I nodded bashfully but he lifted my head up and kissed me again. "I will go slow." On the floor of the observation deck I laid on my back, naked and exposed to sexy Roland. I never imagined myself losing my virginity to a stranger on a ship, but it felt so good I could not bring myself to stop the pleasure. He hovered over me taking my nipples into his mouth making them wet. "I wanted to do this with you since I saw you. You looked so beautiful boarding the ship in your pink dress blowing in the wind. You're so cute and innocent, I wanted to corrupt you. Make you beg for my cock....do you want it?" "Yes," I breathed. "Do you really want it?" He asked as he rubbed the head of his cock against my clit. "Yes I do." I told him looking at him deep into his brown eyes. "Close your eyes sweetheart," he started as he put the head of his wet cock at my pussy hole. "Think of the tides going in and out, in and out, in..."He pushed it forward into me and I tightened all over. "Relax, in and out...". I changed my breathing to match the waves I could hear in the background. In and Out, I thought. My tight pussy was penetrated just as gently as he promised. A single tear fell from my eye, but it wasn't so bad. Roland held me as he rocked into me slowly. It was a little uncomfortable and he could sense it so he pulled out and kissed me. I closed my legs and covered my sore pussy. To ease my soreness he began to lick me again between my legs. Once his began sucking on my swollen clit I knew that I could come. I made me feel so much better once I did come. While he was making me come, he made himself come. I was intrigued by his white sticky substance, but he quickly wiped it away with my nightgown to my disappointment. We laid on the ground together underneath his long black jacket. In his arms I was warm and satisfied. He caressed my body as I caressed his. I wanted to get him hard again to get an actual taste of his ejaculation. We had all night together as well as the rest of the trip to sail away in the sea of pleasure. "Crash into me.."I whispered to him after I got him hard again. The door was never locked... Sailing Away It all began at my eighteenth birthday party. My parents just would not believe that I was through with all that juvenile 'birthday' stuff, so I had to endure one more embarrassing round of phoney smiles and worthless gifts from all my parents' family and friends. I am, I have learned since, a fairly attractive guy. Short, about 5'7" and slim but not too skinny, blond, with sparkling blue eyes and a captivating smile that makes me look even younger than I am. My situation was somewhat unique. I had been going to college for over two years on a special program for 'gifted' individuals. That was fine and I loved it, but I had no friends and no social life. (Well, being a book nerd, I never did have much of a social life.) I had not come out to family and friends, even though I was fairly certain I was gay. Having never had real sex, there was no way I could know for certain. I did know that I loved the sight of a good hard man and a good hard dick. But then, pictures of sex acts and naked women in mags like Hustler, really turned me on too, so confusion sort of reigned in my life. Technically I was still a virgin, not counting fooling around with a couple friends in boy scout tents. (Mutual masturbation and one quick taste of cum.) Well, anyway, as I was saying. It was my birthday. A lame party. Family. Friends. One of my mom's friends had put together a jazz quartet to play. It was unfamiliar sounds, but I was drawn to the dissonant quality which seemed to fit my life. It was getting late, close to midnight and things were winding down. Dad, of course, was passed out on a chair somewhere, probably pissing himself. Mom had long-since retired for the night. I was hanging out near where the band was set up, loitering and taking in the melodious sounds. Earlier I had noticed the sax player, He was tall, maybe six four and big, but not heavy, perhaps 200 pounds. He was firmly muscled in all the right places, but not the bulging weightlifter kind. I watched his deep brown eyes, his lips caressing the reed of his instrument, the dark shock of hair that danced around his forehead as he closed his eyes investing his entire being in the music. There was a touch of gray at his temples that made it hard to judge his age, but I was going with forty. It surprised me that I was attracted to a man so 'old', but there was something about him, something about the languid, self-assured way he moved his body, and about the way he filled his worn jeans. I had noticed earlier that he was checking me out, or at least that is what I thought. I was way too shy to approach him, so I merely watched. I began to fantasize about those sensitive hands touching me, those lips. . . The song, a jazzed up version of Sweet Home Chicago, ended on a long trill and the band began to put up their instruments. The saxophonist looked my way and caught me staring at him. To my extreme embarrassment, he ambled toward me. I felt like running away, but that would have been even more ridiculous. I was frozen in place. "Hi," he said, his voice deep and resonant, "I am Lance. Lance Armstrong. You must be the birthday boy." "Yeah, uh, er Neal, uh er Scott." Lance put out his hand as if to shake. Mine was trembling as I put it in his. His hands were fine and elegant, like those of piano player, yet firm and masculine. Did his touch linger just a bit too long? Or was it wishful thinking? "I really love your playing. I never was much into jazz, but then I never much heard any either. I like the, uh, I don't know what to call it. Dissonance is the word I used in my mind." Lance laughed softly. "You are right. Anyone who knows music will tell you that dissonance, and that is exactly the right word, is the heart and soul of jazz. Listen, Neal, can I buy you a drink?" "Well, I , er that is, I don't drink much and, er, oh hell, I am not old enough to drink." "Well, Neal, How old are you?" "I am eighteen today." "Come," Lance said simply, gesturing with his hand, and I did not hesitate. He parked us at a corner table near the fireplace and went to the bar. He returned with two glasses of amber liquid on ice, which I learned on inquiry was called B&B. We sat and sipped and talked. Lance, I learned was only 34. He said he was an executive with an important corporation, but was independently wealthy. He had three main passions in life, he told me: jazz, sailing, and romance. I shared with him my love and expertise with literature, especially nineteenth century literature, explaining that I hoped to become a university professor and consultant to libraries. "Isn't that a dying thing, he wanted to know? Books, you know aren't they becoming obsolete?" "Not if I can help it! Part of what I do is to insure that truly great books are preserved electronically, so that even if there is no market for them right now, even if no one is reading them right now, they will be there for future generations to enjoy and learn from. You see," I told him. "I am kind of a computer geek, too. I helped develop the software that can read a book and convert it to digital form. Otherwise some geek would have to encode the whole book, letter by letter." "I heard that you are in your third year at the university, and now you tell me you are only eighteen. You must be a kind of genius, then." "A 'protege' is what they always say, but sometimes I get sick of it. The demands to produce, to excel, are severe, and well, even with the scholarships, I never have any money. Sometimes I wish I had a job at a car wash or something, like a normal kid." 'Well if you ask me, you are anything but normal. Believe me, you don't want to be normal. That would be a big step backward for you." "Thanks. I think." "So when do you have to go back to school?" "Not for another two weeks." "Neal, I just thought of something. How would you like to go sailing?" "Sailing?" "Yeah, listen, down at the marina I have a sloop, a thirty-two footer. I'm here to tell you, once you've been. . . out. . . there, clipping along at a good pace, climbing the waves with the spray breaking over your face, mastering the wind and the sky and the sea. I'm telling ya. There's nothing like it. Nothing!" His face glowed with the fervor of a lover. I was really getting into this man. "But I don't know anything about sailing. I am not athletic or anything. Why? Why would you ask me? Can I ask you a very personal question?" "Sure Neal, in fact, I will promise you right now that I will always tell you the truth if you ask me anything." "Are you, uh... er... uh..you know," "Gay?" "Yeah, that." "Well Neal, I have made love in my time to both men and women and I am not sure I could tell you which I prefer. Each is a totally separate thing, whole and complete unto itself. And each and every person with whom I have made love, is a unique and precious individual. Are you?" "You mean unique and precious?" Laughing loudly, "No I already know that. I meant Are you Gay?" I was blushing so heavily that I could feel heat at the roots of my hair as I tried to describe the ambiguity of my current orientation. I was already telling this man more, opening more than I had ever opened myself to anyone. Dare I tell him that I was yet a virgin? "Uh, I don't know," I finally murmured. "You don't know if you are gay? How can that be?" "Well, if you're gonna be like that," I accused, jumping up and beginning to move away. He grabbed my arm at the elbow, preventing my escape. "Wait, wait! Don't go! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I wasn't making fun. It really was an honest question." I looked down at him, suffused with confusion and shame. Those eyes caught mine. Dark and deep, almost black. Like deep pits one could fall into and never return. "Stay! Please?" "Uh, er, uh, Okay," I stammered, sitting, nearly falling back into my chair. Trying to look away. Finally looking down. "You needn't ever be afraid or ashamed to tell me anything. You can trust me completely. Do you believe me? Neal. Look at me. Do you believe me?" As he asked for my total trust, he had placed his hand on my naked forearm. The fine blond hairs stood up on my arms and on the back of my neck at the electricity of his touch. No one's touch had ever affected me in such a way. Who was this strange and compelling man who, 'made love to men and women', and asked for my total trust at our first meeting? I can't say, even now, what force drove me to surrender that trust, but I decided to do so. Whatever happened later, it was at that single moment I decided inside my deepest self I would always say yes to this man, I would throw myself into whatever he brought my way. "I don't know if I am gay because I am the opposite of you. I have never made love to anyone. I find myself attracted to boys sometimes, but I am turned on by pictures, uh, you know, er, uh, of women, like in magazines and stuff. But with my strange life, not being in regular school with kids my age, I never had a chance to be with anyone." I felt immeasurably sad at this declaration, though I had never viewed myself that way before. Was I a total loser? "Neal," Lance had said, "For god's sake, don't be ashamed of being a virgin. That's certainly not anything to be ashamed of. And as for the confusion, I remember it well when I was the same age as you. Perhaps you will never know your true self. Perhaps you will be on a life-long quest to discover yourself, as I am, as perhaps we all are. Maybe you are like me. I call myself ambisexual, but I hate putting labels and limitations on people, especially on myself. I am what I am and I like what I am. Some day I hope you can make that statement about yourself, too, though I sense you are not yet there." As he spoke he moved his hand from my forearm to my hand, so we were effectively holding hands across the table. Somehow that did not seem to matter, that I was holding hands with a man. Somehow it felt comfortable and natural to feel the warmth of his touch. We talked for a time that night. I will ever mark it as the night I became a man. That I had turned eighteen was incidental. That I had met a man who treated me as a man, that was significant! He left me that night with his business card. On the back he had written the address of the marina where his yacht was moored and an invitation to sail with him on Sunday. That night I slept little. My mind, my heart was filled with inchoate images of his eyes and his firm body, that errant curl in the middle of is forehead. My little dick was hard most f the night, but I did not, for some reason, resort to my usual relief of a quick 2 or 3 minute jack off. Perhaps I though this encounter rated more than that. The next day, as I went about my business, I felt a strange and liberated sense of myself. I no longer looked on my mother and father in the same way. My parent's house seemed smaller than it had the day before, their conversation meaningless. I seemed astonished and in awe of the life that roiled around me. Had things always been so bright, so alive? I felt strangely confident with myself as I had never been before. Through it all, I mulled continuously about the invitation. Did I really trust this man I had never met before? Would I actually commit myself to being alone with him on the open ocean, trapped on a small boat? What would he expect of me? More importantly what did I or didn't I expect of him? One thing was certain, I was going sailing. My party had been on Monday night, our sail was to be on Sunday. In the five days that intervened, I went about in a daze. My sister and my parents could scarcely communicate without shaking me out of my reveries. All sorts of images, physical and sexual, played through my mind. If I went, put my trust in Lance, would he seduce me, hmm maybe? That would imply at least a degree of compliance. Rape me and toss my body into the sea? I didn't think so. Or would we merely have a pleasant day sailing on the sea? That he was literally twice my age, oddly mattered not at all to me. Was he like a pedophile, bent on corrupting the young? Why had he chosen me? Doubts filled me. But exhilaration hung on me throughout the week. I felt as if I were about to embark on a glorious adventure, a quest to find Neal. Somehow deep in me I knew that if I took this sail, it would be a voyage of discovery, from which I never would return to the safe shores of my present circumstances. By Saturday I had resolved to trust, to take the plunge, to seize the day and take whatever came my way. In a sense I was trusting and confident that whatever happened on the sail, the voyage, I would be better, richer, more myself from having taken that voyage, sailed down that road not taken. At nine A.M. the next day I found myself at the midfield Yacht Club. I was meeting an important and rich man, so I had worn my best pink Van Heusen dress shirt, black slacks, a tweed sports coat and highly shined dress shoes. I hadn't known that there would be security, but I presented Lance's card to the security guard who opened the gate and directed me to the "Knot 4 Sale", Lance's vessel. It was so big it looked like a ship to me, but the biggest boat I had ever been on was a canoe. I stood there on the dock for several minutes. I am sure that I looked like the greenhorn I was, mouth agape as if to catch minnows, until lance strode up behind me and touched me gently on the shoulder. Even so, I nearly jumped into the harbor. It was like meeting some secret agent or movie star. He was so good looking, so self assured and strong. Any second I expected him to say, "Bond, James Bond". Laughing, Lance took my hand in both of his. "Welcome. Welcome Neal to my humble skiff. Let me have a look at you. Hmm. This will not do. This will not do at all. My fault, my fault entirely. I should have instructed you on how to dress at sea. Hmm. Neal. Would you allow me to buy you a few things, to dress you for safety and comfort on our little excursion?" "What's wrong with the way I am dressed?" "Don't be embarrassed. As I said, I should have told you. But those clothes, attractive as you are in them, as nicely as you fill those slacks out, they are just not going to be right for sailing. And those shoes. Dress leather shoes? I will be constantly plucking you from the ocean." "Er, uh, what did you have in mind? I don't have much money and I wouldn't feel right, your paying for my clothes. It would be kind of strange and awkward, you dressing me. I have been buying my own clothes for a long time." "Listen, Neal, you said you would trust me, right? It would give me true pleasure to outfit you in suitable clothes for sailing. It would be a sort of adventure for me. Like having a son or lover. And, listen, money is nothing. I have been very fortunate and have more than I could ever use in five lifetimes. Another thing. If I outfit you for sailing, if you let me, it would be like your saying that you swill come again, because you'll already have the clothes. See, you are really helping me. Won't you please let me do this for you? No, not for you, for me, as a favor. Please. Otherwise we would have to cancel, or I would have to take you home to change." After all that pleading I could scarce refuse. In a moment he was on his cell and a few minutes later, a gleaming pearl gray Jaguar F-Type was pulled up to the gate. "Hop in, don't be shy." "Wow, I'm impressed." "Maybe I'll buy you one," laughing loudly. "Now just wait a minute!" "Just teasing, Lance said, still laughing lightly. You like it?" "Man oh Man!" "Yup, that's my baby," he chuckled, running through the gears, pulling smoothly into traffic. At the store, he had chosen Abercrombies, we were treated like royalty. Lance waved his hand and a salesperson appeared. Lance spoke with him for a moment and he returned with some items. I tried them all on. For a few moments I was afraid he would have me model the clothes for him, but he didn't. I had half suspected he would follow me into or sit in the dressing room and ogle me, but he did none of those things, he merely guided me to the proper choices. In the end I was dressed in fine fashion for sailing, White cotton shorts, a white polo, a soft wool blend sweater, knotted by its arms around my neck, and white cotton socks in Gill deck shoes. He wouldn't let me see the bill. "Hmm, one more thing, I think," Lance said, taking me lightly by the arm and guiding me to a rack of designer sun glasses. Again I felt that odd sensation as his hands touched my naked arm, not an electric shock like static electricity, but more of a flowing energy that spread from the touched spot through my body. These were the first items I had seen in the store with a price on them. The cheapest pair were $125. Lance gestured for me to pick. Finally, I got into the spirit and went through about twenty pair 'til I chose a pair I thought were perfect. I caught my reflection on the way out and thought I looked like one of those people I had always envied. But I had to admit, I looked attractive, even to me. Back in the Jag, lance glanced over at me and grinned. "Not that you weren't attractive before, but, now you are really looking delicious!" Odd choice of words I thought, was he about to eat me. My ears reddened and my scalp got hot. I tried to regain my aplomb. "Well, thank you. And thanks for all this, too," I said gesturing to the new clothes. "No sweat, buddy." I found the more we were together, the more often he would call me 'buddy'. Back at the marina, he left his car running, tossed the keys to a valet, and we went through his club to the dock, avoiding the gate and guard. I could not believe the size and luxury of his 'little' sloop. He guided me on board then pointed. "Stand there by that davit, would you? When I yell from the bow toss the line ashore, okay?" "Okay, can do." After a minute his voice came from up front. "Cast off, buddy!" That done, he came to me and guided me, one hand lightly on the small of my back. "This," he instructed, "is the cockpit." I could not quite tell if there was a touch of humor in his voice as he pronounced the name of the place from which the boat is steered. He sat behind the wheel, bade me sit next to him and fired up the engines with a roar. He began to guide us out of the channel, he standing as he manned the helm and I sitting beside him. My face was on a level with his crotch, only about one foot away and I could not help but notice that he filled out the front of his white shorts quite nicely. My own equipment stirred slightly and I silently cursed at 'the monster' to behave, As we passed the huge water crib marking the end of the channel, he made an adjustment in direction, then sat and slid over, taking one of my hands and putting it on the helm. "Here, you take over," Lance said, natural as can be. "Uh. . . er. . . Wait a second. I . . . er. . . I can't drive a boat. I don't know what I am doing. I'll wreck us!" "Neal, take it easy. You see anything out here to run into? Just put your hands on the wheel and, see that? That is the compass. Right now it says our course is 105 just keep your hands on the helm, that's sailing talk for the steering wheel, and try to keep the needle pointing to 105. Got it? I am going below to get us some snacks and drinks, I'll be back in a few minutes, remember, one zero five." And with that meager lesson, he left me and went below. He was gone probably no longer than ten minutes, but in that time I learned that the mistake I most often made was over-steering, for in the light breeze and minor swells, and at slow speeds, it took very little effort to keep the large vessel on course. Standing there with the wind ruffling my flowing blond hair, I felt very urbane and sophisticated, and a little powerful. Sailing Away Lance returned with a tray on which there were a variety of goodies, including my first taste of caviar, (very fishy and very salty) a good soft Camembert, some small slices of imported rye, and the best little ultra thin slices of some sort of ham I could not identify, but loved the taste of. We drank champagne with the vittles and got to know one another. We talked of his work and my work. From time to time as we chatted, he would reach to touch my hand or arm, and once my bare knee. He seemed very interested and asked about my literary favorites. We followed the meal with bits of mixed berries, melon, and other fruit. As we ate, we talked more. Or mostly, lance talked to me and I answered with uneducated grunts. "When we finish our victuals and get out a bit farther, we'll put up the sails. That's when the fun begins. Since there are only the two of us, you will be the crew and I will be the captain. We'll give it a run through first and then go to it. On a modern boat with electric winches and all it is really pretty easy. Two things you need to know right away. Once the sails are up, never move around the boat without a tether. That will be like a rope around your waist with a clip on it. This," showing me, " is the lifeline. When you move around the boat in bad weather or under full sail, always clip yourself to the life line then unclip for a second, move to the next section of lifeline, then hook up again, like this, see. Second, watch out for the boom. See that large pole there with all the canvas rolled up on it. Well when we operate the winch, it will pull all that sail up to the top of the mast, up there," pointing, " when the ship tacks quickly, that's turns fast in lay terms, the boom will swing from one side to the other. If you are not paying attention, it will clobber you and dump you in the sea, maybe knock you out!" I was feeling totally inadequate and a bit frightened, but Lance reassured me. "Since we aren't really going anywhere and the wind is pretty steady, the only reason to tack is to keep abreast of any large swells that might develop. So don't worry. Trust me, you are going to love this. Engines off, sails unfurled, winching, hauling, cleatting done, and the boat on auto pilot to maintain our course, Lance called to me from the bow. "Hook up to the lifeline and come forward to me." I complied. I had had no idea such a large boat would tilt so far when making way under sail. The deck was very slanted and difficult to walk on, not to mention bouncing up and down on the waves, and I moved forward cautiously. I was very glad I had my new deck shoes, Once in the bow, I spied Lance standing at the very front of the boat. The wind blew his hair back from his fine features, and salt spray flung itself in his face every few seconds. He looked like the mast head of some ancient Pirate ship. There was a gleam in his eye like dark fire. He leaned toward me, keeping one hand on the lifeline, and reached out his hand. I disconnected from the lifeline and reached toward him. He pulled hard and I lurched forward into his arms. He maneuvered me in front of him and we moved out about three feet onto the bow sprit. He held me against him, one arm crooked around my body from armpit to waist, the other behind him, hopefully clinging to the headline. The boat leaned strongly to one side and the bow rose and fell about three feet with each wave we crested. Held there in his arm, against his powerful body, I felt no fear. My trust in Lance was total. I had never felt so excited, so exhilarated I my life. Every few seconds, a wave would crash over the bow, dousing us with cold salt spray, and each dousing was as a new baptism. Stretched out ahead of us, a golden highway lay upon the sea, beckoning us to sail away into the sun. I felt so free and perfect. Still holding onto Lance's arm with one of mine, I reached behind me to touch him, to try to convey to him the depth of my feeling, to communicate how important this moment had become to me. Lance surprised me by kissing the palm of my hand. Just the softest merest touch of his lips on my palm. I gasped at the intensity of the current that shot through me. I closed my eyes and lay back easily against his strong body, trying to melt into him. He slipped my forefinger between his lips and began to lick and suck it. I clearly felt the rising hardness of his manhood behind me, pressing against me, not with any urgency, but as if to make a simple statement. "I am Here!" It is impossible to determine how long we stood there, faces into the wind, our bodies pressed together, but soon proper control of the vessel took precedence over our mutual joy. We returned to the cockpit and sat beside one another. But now a subtle change had come over our relationship. Either we were on the verge of something heavier, something deeper, or we would return to shore, happier and wiser, but separate. "Why did you do that to my hand, my fingers?" I asked. "Did you not like it? Are you disgusted with me?" "No, no, it's nothing like that. I am just afraid that you. . . you. . .I don't know. You might. . . " "Seduce you? Make love to you? Well, I might. I think that mostly depends on what you decide. Do you want me to take you back, take you home? I will if that's what you want." "No," I answered perhaps too quickly. "Er. . . that is. No I don't want to go back, don't want this, this time, our time to end, I want to be with you, but. . . I. . . that is. . . I don't know what else I do want, where I want this, us to go." "Well," Lance said. "Why don't we just see what comes natural to both of us, enjoy a day at sea and take it from there. I say again, at this point anything that happened would be up to you." "Up to me? Why up to me?" "Well, I decided that night at your party that I wanted us to be together, to be with you, get to know you. I like you very much and find myself very attracted to you. So naturally I would try to seduce you. But you always retain the right to say no to anything." "You promised that night to always tell me the truth, you remember?" "Oh yes, I remember." "Will you tell me the truth now?" "Now and always." "Did you bring me out here to, er, to.. . You know, to have sex with me?" "I want to be very careful to answer you in such a way that I don't break my bond of trust with you at the same time that I remain honest and true to myself. Yes, I was extremely attracted to you at once, wanted to 'have sex' with you as soon as I saw you, but my motives in asking you to sail were more than that. Did I bring you out her because there was no escape, out here in the middle of the ocean? No! I brought you out here because I wanted to share the excitement and joy that sailing brings me. I am quite a bit older than you, in fact, nearly twice your age, so it feels strange, makes me feel a bit like a pedophile even having you here. I almost didn't ask you. That's why it has to be you who decides. But in all sincerity, for me this is the way it works. I look on this little journey as a kind of date. When you, that is when I, ask someone on a date, there is always the hope, the possibility that we will hit it off and share sex, love making, I call it. And that we might even get closer than that, establish a relationship that goes deeper. Aren't we all looking for that, for deeper connections, for that one person, our 'soul mate' to share our lives with. So yes, I brought you out here in the hopes that we might make love, but only as a part of a deeper, more meaningful way of making a bond, a relationship between us. You just might be that one person, that match to my soul. But how would I know, how would you know if I never tried. So I asked you, hoping you would agree. And here you are." "I am easy and comfortable," lance continued. "Maybe you'll make love with me today, tonight. If you grow to love sailing as much as I, maybe we will make love on the tenth date, maybe the fiftieth, maybe never. As I said, that's entirely up to you. I know this is kind of a long-winded answer to a simple question, but I like to try to be clear." I was about to speak, but Lance held up his hand. "One thing you can be sure of. I might try anything, but 'no' is still 'no'. I will apply all my seduction techniques try my damnedest to turn you on to me, because it is what I do, how I live, how I love, but If at any time you want me to stop trying, to stop anything. All you have to do is say 'no'." "Listen, Lance, this is all a bit much for me. I know you mean well, but I, well I . I don't know anything. Even if I wanted to say yes to you, I wouldn't know what I was agreeing to. It's all so new to me. I have never been on a date with a girl, let alone a man. You, you, you are. . . are. . . the most interesting and exciting person I have ever met. By far. I. . . I. . . Listen to how I am stuttering. I can't even form a coherent thought when I am this close to you. I am extremely attracted to you. When we were up in the bow, when I was, er. . . in. . your arms, I felt so safe, so secure, but also extremely excited. The sea, the spray, the sunlight, well. . . you know. I was not at all afraid of you, afraid of what you might do to me. I knew you wouldn't attack me, wouldn't hurt or rape me. But I was, er, uh. . am afraid of what might happen next,because I never, you know, er.. have, uh, er, done anything at all. "Neal," Lance stopped me, grasping me on both biceps, "Everything is cool. Take it easy. I will take it as slow as you like. Meanwhile, let's just enjoy our little adventure." As he said these words, he placed his open hand on my face tenderly, the most intimate gesture I had felt up to then. "Can I get you some more champagne, or anything else?" "Do you ave a pop, something non-alcoholic?" "Of course, Coke, Pepsi, Limonada." "What's leemonahda?" "It is the kind of soda that they drink in Greece. It tastes like lemonade, a little, but a bit resiny, like just about everything Greek, but it is carbonated. I picked up a few cases the last time I was over there." "Could I try that?" "Commin' right up. Take the helm." "Aye, aye captain." At that we both laughed. "That's right, Lance said. I am the captain, the law at sea. You must obey me out here." "See I told you you brought me out her to take advantage of me. You can do anything you want and I have to say, 'aye,aye, captain'." More laughter. I absolutely loved the limonada , so tart, so unlike sicky-sweet American soft drinks, and so refreshing. After our drinks, Lance showed me more about guiding a ship, about having to keep her head into the wind, about 'tacking' to change direction, how to 'spill' wind from the sails. I was becoming more and more used to his hands on me, for as we moved about, they were ever present. A slight touch on the shoulder. A momentary pat on the knee or thigh. And that gesture. From time to time he would touch my face tenderly and look directly into my eyes, into the depth of me, and something hard inside me would melt a bit and turn to water. I knew what he was trying to do, I knew he was trying to get me used to his touch so he could, what,that I didn't know, but was starting not to care. Each time his hands touched me, I longed for him to touch me again. I felt a strong urge to touch him back, touch him there, put my hand on that obvious bulge at the front of his white shorts, but there was no way I could do that. If I did, how would he respond? And where would it go from there. Would I find myself under his heavy body, panting an sweaty? Would that be a bad thing? Oh how I wished at that moment that I had more experience. Lance had gone forward for something, was momentarily out of my sight when I heard his voice call to me. "Neal, come here! Quick! I made my way to him, forgetting my tether and the life line, almost falling. "Look," Lance said, pointing and gathering me into him with his right arm. Off to the larboard bow, a school of porpoises gamboled and leaped and played in our wake. It was as if they performed their glorious dance for the two of us alone. Lance held me tight against his body as he had in the bow earlier, but this time he began to gently kiss the back of my neck and that spot just beneath my ear, whispering to me of my beauty, of the joy I brought to him, of how good it was to ave men his arms. Shudders of goose bumps raced over my body. I sighed deeply and lay back hard against him. "Eeep, eeep," sang the porpoises in their play. "I want you badly," Lance whispered in my ear, causing a new wave of shivers. Once again I felt that hard insistent presence against me, behind me. Impulsively, I slid my hand between our bodies, laying the flat of my hand on his hardness through his shorts. Immediately his cock jumped and pulsed under my hand. "What was I doing? What was I letting myself in for?" "Yes," Lance murmured, "that is good, so good." Neither of us moved for a time. We stood there my back to his front, watching the porpoises leap, scattering gleaming sun-lit shards of spray like silvery diadems, my hand resting there, unmoving. All was still save for the porpoises and the slight pulsing of his penis beneath my hand. The golden highway on the sea stretched ahead of us. Was there also a golden 'us' that stretched ahead into the future? I was beginning to hope there was. There was a rightness and a glory in the air I had never felt before as I turned toward him, lay my head on his broad firm chest and clasped my arms around him. "Oh Lance. I want, but I don't know what I want." "Will you trust me, let me guide you?" "Yes!" "We need to go sit down. This will take a few minutes, will you help me furl the sails?" "Aye, aye captain. Just show me how." I was pretty sure the boat could guide itself and taking in the sails was unnecessary; pretty sure he was giving me time to change my mind, to make a rational decision. But the rational decision I made this time was not to be rational this time, to seize the day, to seize the moment, let go, abandon rational thought, to set myself free to feel for once. When the sails were down and we were once again running on diesel, I stood in the cockpit, completely inert, hands down at my sides, waiting for my captain to lead the way. He came to me then, placed his arm lightly around my waist and asked simply. "Below decks in my cabin, or up here on the deck?" "Could we stay up here where I can hear the ocean, the porpoises, see the sun, hear the gulls?" "Whatever you want, my buddy, whatever you want." "I looked up into those dark piercing eyes that once again drew me deep, held me transfixed. "I am afraid, Lance. Will you help me?" "Yes! Don't be afraid." We stood in silence for a time, nestled together, watching the porpoises who still gamboled. His arm was around me. I was half turned toward him, sort of tucked under his muscled arm, my face flat against his firm broad chest, listening to his heartbeat. He took my other hand and laid my flat palm against the front of his white shorts and I again felt the weight, the heft, the length of him. "Feel me," he whispered to me. "Feel my need for you. Feel it grow." "What will you do to me?" I whispered back. "So much. Everything. Not to you. With you. For you. For us. What will you do to me?" There was a knot in my throat as big as Gibraltar as I replied, "I. . . will. . . do. . . Whatever you want me to. Will you guide me, tell me what to do?" I waited several very long seconds for his reply, when it came it startled me, challenged me. "Open my shorts and take out my cock." I hesitated a very long time, not sure I wanted to go down this 'road not taken', not sure what I wanted. Lance did not hurry me, did not speak or encourage me further. He simply waited, his patience infinite, those enthralling ebony eyes beckoning, challenging. My knees were weak and my tongue dry and I could not speak as I struggled with the zipper and button of his shorts. I discovered that Lance wore no underwear. When the last button was undone, his shorts fell to his feet; his cock sprang up like a viper looking to strike. It was the first real man cock I had ever seen, especially up this close. I thought I would be repelled, revolted, but quite the contrary. I thought it one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Lance's penis was long, though not grotesquely so, dark and heavy and covered by a long smooth foreskin over its whole length except for the very tip which protruded as if it were an eye looking up at me, questioning. My breathing nearly ceased and my heart pounded as I took his fullness into my palm, measuring the weight, the heft of him, looking down at his rampant cock, marking his growth as I held him, feeling the power grow in him, the blood surging, pulsing. Feeling the first surge of the power I would eventually have over him. "Oh god," I gasped. I looked back up into his eyes. "Oh god, what next," I thought. And still he waited. "What now," I finally managed to mutter, barely audible above the crash of the sea, the call of the gulls, the song of the porpoises, the thrumming of my heart in my ears. I hope he doesn't want to see my dick, I thought to myself. It is so tiny compared to his. His limpid eyes shone as he answered, "What would you like? Would you like me to touch you? Would you like to sit down?" "Y. . . y. . . yes, er, ah no. Um, that is. Y. . . yes I'd like you to touch me. uh. . . No don't. I don't want you to see me. I mean see my. . . "Something wrong with your penis that you don't want me to see?" And now I really was blushing from the roots of my hair all the way to my toes. "It's just, well, er, I am kinda, oh hell, I am really small, I mean my dick. It is really small, especially compared to what you've got." "Do you really think the size of your penis would matter to me? I am much more interested in the size of your intellect, your mind. The size and depth of your involvement." Lance reached to cover my hand with his, holding it against his hardness, then turned, took his arm from around me and reached to unzip and open my shorts. His experience was obvious as he had no trouble opening them with one hand, a feat I could barely accomplish on my own clothes. Skillfully he spread the flap of my briefs, reached in and freed my penis from its confines. Only a little more than the tip stuck out, since my cock was only about half the size of his, slim and pink, cut back tight, the circumcision scars obvious. Despite my excitement, fear and apprehension left me only about half hard. Lance sighed, "Ah. Beautiful," he whispered in my ear. "What a pretty cock you have!" He slid his hand up and back on me. It felt strange to have a hand on me backwards, with the thumb toward the base of my cock and all four fingers around me. Lance knelt and removed my shorts from around my feet. Reaching up he stuffed my cock back through that stupid flap in my briefs. Then grasping both sides of my tight white briefs, he tugged them down to my feet, removed them also. He stood away from me for a second, twirling my briefs around on his finger like a lariat, then flung them over the side and into the deep blue sea. As if saying a prayer, he intoned. "May Neal Scott never wear such restraining clothing again. Amen." While we were both laughing uproariously, he stepped up close to me, grasped his prick and mine and rubbed them together. Seeing and feeling his cock alongside mine, rubbing mine, caused sensations in me I had never dreamed of. The mere sight of our two cocks together, the contrast, excited me intensely, his long and dark, heavy and ominous hiding its secrets under a long wrinkled foreskin, mine smaller, about half as large, pink and thin and circumcised . Next, Lance surprised me by kissing me lightly on the lips while continuing to stroke us together. After several more strokes of our joined cocks, Lance let go, went to the cockpit and sat on the cushions, beckoning me to join him. Sailing Away I stumbled over to him as if I were a programmed robot, not thinking, my body excited as never before, my cock, rigid as a pole, seemed too heavy to carry around, my mind was adrift out there somewhere beyond sight and sound and reason. My heart beat faster and faster, but my lungs could not breathe deeply. I wanted badly to throw myself on lance and take whatever he was willing to give, give whatever he was willing to take. But a cold dread held me in its tight grip. Fear and longing seemed meshed together in an unbreakable web around my heart, my soul. Numbly I sat beside him. "We both look kind of silly sitting here with no pants on but shirts still on. Here, let me." Deftly he reached and pulled my polo over my head in one swift motion, then slipped off his own and tossed both in the corner. The hair on his chest was a tight, dark, curled little nest. A dark line led down from there, past his navel and into the dark bush that surrounded his genitals. His heavy dark cock stood pointing straight up his belly, his ball sack huge and hanging. In contrast I was almost skinny, my chest totally hairless, my cock thin and pink, also pointing straight up, hard as a railroad spike and about the same size, my pubic hair blond and sparse, shining in the sunlight, my ball sack small and tight. "Are you cold?" "No, I'm okay." "But you are shivering." "I am afraid." "Of what?" "I don't know. You maybe." He placed his hand on my naked thigh. I sighed deeply. "Neal?" "Yes Lance?" He slid to his knees between my knees and looked up at me. Those eyes so earnest. "I am going to suck your cock now. Stop me if I do anything you don't want me to." He reached and took my cock in his hand and licked the head like an ice cream cone. My prick jumped violently and a moan escaped my lips. Had I wanted to say 'stop', I couldn't have, my lips were incapable of speech. Lance's lips, his tongue, his teeth went to work on me. Obviously experienced, he brought me to the brink of orgasm, then eased off and began anew. At least a dozen times I nearly shot down his throat, but his expertise would ease me down again, until finally, near the end, he took my hands and placed them on the back of his head, then took my hips and drew me repeatedly toward him, surrend-ering control to me. When I finally came thunderously, I was holding his head and fucking mercilessly into him. As I shot my cum into his throat, he thrust his head tight against my crotch, taking me deep, and used his throat muscles to milk my cock, sucking semen all the way from my balls. When I was done, I sought to pull away from him, but he held me, his head lying in my lap and my cock deflating slowly in his mouth. Despite the somewhat violent finish, it was the most intimate thing I had ever experienced. I felt so close to him. After a time, he rose. "I'll be back in a minute," He said. He disappeared below and returned with two fluffy white robes such as one might find in a luxury hotel. "I thought you might be getting chilly," he said. it is getting kind of late. It doesn't look like we will be getting back before very late. Do you need to call someone. Will someone be worried?" "Well, I have my cell." Lance chuckled. "Well, good buddy, You think there are any towers anywhere close by?" "Well, er what, then how?" "Ship to shore, buddy. Radio. So do you need to call? Okay, so the real reason I am asking is that I am hoping you will stay, spend the night, or maybe a few days and nights. If you say yes, I will take us to a private little island. We can reach it tonight, anchor there for a day or two, and we can sun and surf and play until you have to go back. If you are worried about sleeping arrangements, we can sleep on the beach, on deck under the stars, or there are lots of berths below. This rig sleeps ten." "Well, I don't know." Lance took me into his arms then, our robes were open and our bodies touched. He held me and kissed me as a lover would, touching, teasing, his tongue, his lips seeking, roaming. I could smell and taste the slight flavor of my own cock and cum on his lips and tongue. "Please, please stay," he pleaded. "I will. Yes, I will. I want to." Oh god, what was coming; what was I letting myself in for? Lance shrieked with pleasure, then ran below to set up the ship to shore call. I told home that I would not be home for a few days. There were questions that I did not answer. I was declaring my freedom. Or was I enslaving myself to the powerful influences of this man. I reaffirmed to myself that I would ride with the storm, go with my decision, take whatever came. I sealed my fate.