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- Jun 28, 2024
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Chapter 75: Carrie Makes Me Feel Welcome
The sun peeking over the horizon woke me. I rolled over and, yup, there he was. My morning woodie, ready to be serviced. He jolted up like a spring, tenting the sheet, demanding a date with Ms. Michigan. (Inside joke. The map of the state of Michigan looks like a hand, hence the nickname ‘the Mitten State.’ Your hand becomes Ms. Michigan. I have ‘dates’ with her daily.)
After leaving a hefty wet spot to dry on its own, I made coffee and assessed my situation. I was now 35 miles offshore. Easily a 5-hour passage for my Love Boat. I set sail for land, on a broad reach diagonal to the shore. There was a major city along the coast and I headed that way.
Late in the day I got to within a few miles of the inlet to civilization. As it was dusk, I decided to drop hook and navigate an unfamiliar harbor in the morning. I found a 10-foot-deep area about 150 yards offshore. Once secure to the bottom, I enjoyed my dram in the cockpit.
The inlet was actually a major river emptying into the open water. It was a busy port with lots of freighters going in and out. I had spied a suitable marina for me but it was several miles down the river. In the morning as I was dodging freighters and lots of smaller pleasure craft, I made my way to the marina.
Except for the dockmaster, the entire staff at the marina was college kids, both guys and girls. It was a delight to see so many young, tight bodies, scantily dressed, skittering about the docks. As I pulled up to the fuel dock to register, two hot bunnies and one fit stud grabbed my lines and secured me to the dock.
In the office there were another 3 hotties and 2 more studs. They were all affable, joking around. I got checked in and a map of the marina. Two of the girls said they would meet me at my slip to help me tie off.
Once the girls had me secure at my slip, I invited them aboard for a cold beer – a routine ‘tip’ on top of the cash. They readily accepted. They were both hot as fire, wearing tiny little short-shorts and the marina official polo shirts. True eye candy after being at sea for several days. As we sipped a cold one in the cockpit, I asked them where the action was nearby.
“Just about everywhere,” they said in unison. “Within 5 blocks, any direction, you’ll find a dozen bars, restaurants, night clubs. Or there’s always the Captain’s lounge right here at the marina. The staff has kinda taken it over, turned it into a happenin’ place on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Beer, wine, shooters. It’s fun. The boaters love it and management loves the income and activity.”
Almost every marina has some sort of Captain’s lounge. It’s a public area where the liveaboards and those just passing through can reconnect with the grid. Do laundry, shower, reprovision, watch TV, read books, and play games; some are more elaborate then others. This one sounded top notch.
I thanked the cuties and gave them each a C-note to show my appreciation. They each gave me a kiss on the cheek as their thank you.
I found my way to the shower first thing. I was pretty ripe even though I bathe off the stern of the boat every other day when on a passage. Personal hygiene is not as important when there’s no one else around.
After my shower, I collected my dirty laundry and hit the laundry room. The Captain’s lounge building had a large covered porch wrapping around three sides of the building. Up the stairs to the porch, there were several doors. One for the men’s room, one for ladies and one to inside the actual lounge. Once inside the building, there was a hallway leading to the lounge room. Off to the right was a doorway into the laundry area. I snagged the last available washer.
Since it was still early in the day, the place was mostly deserted although I could hear a few voices coming from the lounge room. I got my laundry going, then stepped into the main lounge room. It was large with an outdoor screened deck on one side. Several groups of tables and chairs, a couple of couches, TVs, and a bar along one wall.
The voices I heard were a yoga class going on. There were 6 ladies watching a yoga instructor on the TV. They were all following along, changing positions to follow the instructor. One of the participants was one of the cuties from the office. Her tights looked like they were painted on, giving me an eyeful of her tight, toned body.
Two of the others were dowdy matriarchs; the other three in their 30’s or early 40’s, all having trim bodies, easily fuckable. When the yoga video ended, they all grabbed for their water bottles and towels.
As they toweled off, I struck up a conversation with the three in their 30’s. “Hi! I’m new to this marina. Nice to see that you’re making good use of the Captain’s lounge. I hear they have gatherings here on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Have any of you attended?”
A pretty, short haired beauty responded. “Hi, Captain. I’m Bree. Welcome! Yes, my husband and I come up for the happy hour quite frequently. It’s a lot of fun, you should come. Most of us bring a dish to pass. Nothing fancy, just an hors devours. Tends to offset the copious amounts of alcohol we imbibe.”
“Sounds like fun, Bree. I’m Sailor. Looking to stay here a week or so. I should be able to make at least a couple of the happy hours.”
The second woman, shorter and blonde, piped in. “Hi, Sailor. I’m Carrie. I come for the happy hour regularly. I think you’ll find it quite fun.” She gave me a ‘challenging’ look, as in ‘I challenge you to come and see what happens.’
“Thanks, ladies. I look forward to it. I’ve been out on the water for a few days. Remind me what day today is?” In unison, they all replied “Sunday.” “Great. Looks like I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
That settled, I returned to the laundry room. It seems as if the yoga group did their laundry while exercising. A couple of them followed me to the laundry room. I switched my load from washer to dryer and sat down to watch TV and catch up on current events while my clothes dried.
No sooner had I sat down and found the local news feed, Carrie plopped down next to me. Carrie was a bit over 5 feet tall, blonde hair cut to just below her ears, a roundish face, and large, expressive blue eyes. She was attractive and her yoga outfit clung to her body tightly. She was in great shape.
“You say you’re here for a week or so? Where are you coming from and what’s your next port-of-call?” She asked this looking straight at me with much interest in her expression.
“Well, Carrie, I’m just kind of a vagabond. No home port, no house or apartment, just living the dream on my boat going wherever it takes me. I’ve been all over but there are just so many new places to discover. What about you?”
“Sounds kind of like me. My husband died young, no kids. I took some of the insurance money and bought my boat. I supplement my income by writing stories and vlogging about my travels. I have a channel on YouTube. The income fills in the gap between what my investments bring in and my outgo. Boats can get expensive!”
“Yes, tell me about it. The ongoing expenses and the constant maintenance. Nightmares! But being out on the open water, sundowner time, gentle rocking motion … they all make up for the downside.”
Just then my dryer finished it’s cycle. The other ladies had already left; it was just Carrie and me. As I started folding my clothes, her dryer finished, too. I ventured “Now that I’ve showered and done laundry, it’s time to see what the food offerings are around here. Can you recommend anywhere in particular, Carrie?” “Absolutely! Let’s get our clean clothes back to our boats and meet again here in 5 or 10 minutes. I’ll show you around. Okay?” “Sure thing, Carrie.”
We hustled our clothes back to our boats. I grabbed my backpack and loaded it with a few beers, a few joints and, just in case, a bottle of vodka. Carrie met me back at the Captain’s lounge and we started walking to land. On the way, I boldly pulled out a joint, lit it and passed it her way.
“I don’t normally toke up so early in the day. I tend to get, uh, let’s just say ‘stimulated’ when I’m high” she remarked. “Me, too, Carrie. Me, too.”
She led me to a small bar and grill just off the main street. It was dimly lit and mostly empty. “They have a good kitchen here” she said. “I’ve never been disappointed.” We settled into a booth toward the back. After we ordered and our drinks arrived, we toasted to our new-found friendship. She seemed keenly interested in me, as I was with her. Our talk was all over the place, mostly about boating mishaps, tight situations, storms and whatnot. After we finished eating, I boldly suggested that we take a walk and enjoy another joint. “I haven’t seen you ‘stimulated’ yet, Carrie. Or have I just been missing it?”
“Oh, I’ve been stimulated. I just have a knack of hiding it pretty well. Let’s head back to the marina so I don’t have to hide it any more.”
We gravitated toward my boat, closer to land than hers. Once aboard, we slammed into each other like strong magnets. The sexual tension and innuendo had been thick and we now started acting out our fantasies.
Carrie was sufficiently ‘stimulated,’ that’s for sure. She was mauling me like a teenager just discovering sex for the first time. Her hands were all over my body. Her mouth was all over mine. Her pelvis was grinding into mine like there was no tomorrow. When she started to pull her top off over her head, I suggested that we go below for more privacy.
She climbed down below first and by the time I got there she was buck naked. One hand was squeezing her left boob, pinching her own nipple; the other hand was further down, making small circles on her clit. She was already moaning.
My shorts were on the floor in record time. Gravity has a way. Seeing my erect cock stimulated her even more. Carrie instantly dropped to her knees. She took hold of my stiff dick and put her lips around his swollen mushroom head. Her tongue licked my engorged shaft up and down; then he was back inside her warm, wet mouth. Her stimulation in full swing now, she began a delightful blowjob. She’d take it halfway in, return to tongue my sensitive underside, then back in her mouth. She continued this motion with an occasional trip all the way down her throat thrown in for good measure.
When she took him in deep, I moaned loudly in pleasure. As I watched my cock slide in and out of her cute, round face, she kept her big, beautiful eyes trained on me. I just wanted to unload my nuts down her throat. Just as I grabbed her head to start power fucking her face, she pushed away.
“Not so fast, Sailor. I’ve got both a pussy and an asshole, too, you know.” Standing there wanting more, I watched as she reclined on the bed. “How about trying my pussy, first?” she said. Her legs were spread wide and she pulled her labia open with her fingers, exposing a luscious looking cunt.
Even though my dick was rock hard and wanted nothing more than to slam into her open hole, I checked myself. I lay on my front between her legs and buried my face in her pussy. It was as exquisite and luscious as it appeared. Glistening, wet, inviting. Slurping her juices, licking her lips, finally focusing on her clit, I was in heaven.
I ravished her clit. I got her bucking and jerking in no time. Her shrieks of pleasure and her dirty talk spurred me on. I continued to tongue her clit, then used my fingers to diddle it back and forth hard and fast. With that, she arched her back and screamed “YES, YES … THAT’S IT … OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!” Her orgasm seemed to go on forever, providing me with a nearly endless supply of her sweet pussy juice.
“Oh, my lord. That was an intense orgasm, Sailor. How can I ever return the favor?” “Let’s start with a simple pussy fuck, Carrie. Get your legs up out of the way.”
I mounted her, her legs now up beside her head. My still throbbing cock needed some relief, pronto. I pushed him into her waiting hole. It was sloppy wet and she made for an easy, delightful fuck. It was stimulating to stare at her pretty face, framed with her blonde hair, her large expressive eyes trained on me as I enjoyed fucking her.
It didn’t take long before I blew my load. I shuddered as the spasms overtook me, squirting into her sloppy, gaping pussy.
The sun peeking over the horizon woke me. I rolled over and, yup, there he was. My morning woodie, ready to be serviced. He jolted up like a spring, tenting the sheet, demanding a date with Ms. Michigan. (Inside joke. The map of the state of Michigan looks like a hand, hence the nickname ‘the Mitten State.’ Your hand becomes Ms. Michigan. I have ‘dates’ with her daily.)
After leaving a hefty wet spot to dry on its own, I made coffee and assessed my situation. I was now 35 miles offshore. Easily a 5-hour passage for my Love Boat. I set sail for land, on a broad reach diagonal to the shore. There was a major city along the coast and I headed that way.
Late in the day I got to within a few miles of the inlet to civilization. As it was dusk, I decided to drop hook and navigate an unfamiliar harbor in the morning. I found a 10-foot-deep area about 150 yards offshore. Once secure to the bottom, I enjoyed my dram in the cockpit.
The inlet was actually a major river emptying into the open water. It was a busy port with lots of freighters going in and out. I had spied a suitable marina for me but it was several miles down the river. In the morning as I was dodging freighters and lots of smaller pleasure craft, I made my way to the marina.
Except for the dockmaster, the entire staff at the marina was college kids, both guys and girls. It was a delight to see so many young, tight bodies, scantily dressed, skittering about the docks. As I pulled up to the fuel dock to register, two hot bunnies and one fit stud grabbed my lines and secured me to the dock.
In the office there were another 3 hotties and 2 more studs. They were all affable, joking around. I got checked in and a map of the marina. Two of the girls said they would meet me at my slip to help me tie off.
Once the girls had me secure at my slip, I invited them aboard for a cold beer – a routine ‘tip’ on top of the cash. They readily accepted. They were both hot as fire, wearing tiny little short-shorts and the marina official polo shirts. True eye candy after being at sea for several days. As we sipped a cold one in the cockpit, I asked them where the action was nearby.
“Just about everywhere,” they said in unison. “Within 5 blocks, any direction, you’ll find a dozen bars, restaurants, night clubs. Or there’s always the Captain’s lounge right here at the marina. The staff has kinda taken it over, turned it into a happenin’ place on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Beer, wine, shooters. It’s fun. The boaters love it and management loves the income and activity.”
Almost every marina has some sort of Captain’s lounge. It’s a public area where the liveaboards and those just passing through can reconnect with the grid. Do laundry, shower, reprovision, watch TV, read books, and play games; some are more elaborate then others. This one sounded top notch.
I thanked the cuties and gave them each a C-note to show my appreciation. They each gave me a kiss on the cheek as their thank you.
I found my way to the shower first thing. I was pretty ripe even though I bathe off the stern of the boat every other day when on a passage. Personal hygiene is not as important when there’s no one else around.
After my shower, I collected my dirty laundry and hit the laundry room. The Captain’s lounge building had a large covered porch wrapping around three sides of the building. Up the stairs to the porch, there were several doors. One for the men’s room, one for ladies and one to inside the actual lounge. Once inside the building, there was a hallway leading to the lounge room. Off to the right was a doorway into the laundry area. I snagged the last available washer.
Since it was still early in the day, the place was mostly deserted although I could hear a few voices coming from the lounge room. I got my laundry going, then stepped into the main lounge room. It was large with an outdoor screened deck on one side. Several groups of tables and chairs, a couple of couches, TVs, and a bar along one wall.
The voices I heard were a yoga class going on. There were 6 ladies watching a yoga instructor on the TV. They were all following along, changing positions to follow the instructor. One of the participants was one of the cuties from the office. Her tights looked like they were painted on, giving me an eyeful of her tight, toned body.
Two of the others were dowdy matriarchs; the other three in their 30’s or early 40’s, all having trim bodies, easily fuckable. When the yoga video ended, they all grabbed for their water bottles and towels.
As they toweled off, I struck up a conversation with the three in their 30’s. “Hi! I’m new to this marina. Nice to see that you’re making good use of the Captain’s lounge. I hear they have gatherings here on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Have any of you attended?”
A pretty, short haired beauty responded. “Hi, Captain. I’m Bree. Welcome! Yes, my husband and I come up for the happy hour quite frequently. It’s a lot of fun, you should come. Most of us bring a dish to pass. Nothing fancy, just an hors devours. Tends to offset the copious amounts of alcohol we imbibe.”
“Sounds like fun, Bree. I’m Sailor. Looking to stay here a week or so. I should be able to make at least a couple of the happy hours.”
The second woman, shorter and blonde, piped in. “Hi, Sailor. I’m Carrie. I come for the happy hour regularly. I think you’ll find it quite fun.” She gave me a ‘challenging’ look, as in ‘I challenge you to come and see what happens.’
“Thanks, ladies. I look forward to it. I’ve been out on the water for a few days. Remind me what day today is?” In unison, they all replied “Sunday.” “Great. Looks like I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
That settled, I returned to the laundry room. It seems as if the yoga group did their laundry while exercising. A couple of them followed me to the laundry room. I switched my load from washer to dryer and sat down to watch TV and catch up on current events while my clothes dried.
No sooner had I sat down and found the local news feed, Carrie plopped down next to me. Carrie was a bit over 5 feet tall, blonde hair cut to just below her ears, a roundish face, and large, expressive blue eyes. She was attractive and her yoga outfit clung to her body tightly. She was in great shape.
“You say you’re here for a week or so? Where are you coming from and what’s your next port-of-call?” She asked this looking straight at me with much interest in her expression.
“Well, Carrie, I’m just kind of a vagabond. No home port, no house or apartment, just living the dream on my boat going wherever it takes me. I’ve been all over but there are just so many new places to discover. What about you?”
“Sounds kind of like me. My husband died young, no kids. I took some of the insurance money and bought my boat. I supplement my income by writing stories and vlogging about my travels. I have a channel on YouTube. The income fills in the gap between what my investments bring in and my outgo. Boats can get expensive!”
“Yes, tell me about it. The ongoing expenses and the constant maintenance. Nightmares! But being out on the open water, sundowner time, gentle rocking motion … they all make up for the downside.”
Just then my dryer finished it’s cycle. The other ladies had already left; it was just Carrie and me. As I started folding my clothes, her dryer finished, too. I ventured “Now that I’ve showered and done laundry, it’s time to see what the food offerings are around here. Can you recommend anywhere in particular, Carrie?” “Absolutely! Let’s get our clean clothes back to our boats and meet again here in 5 or 10 minutes. I’ll show you around. Okay?” “Sure thing, Carrie.”
We hustled our clothes back to our boats. I grabbed my backpack and loaded it with a few beers, a few joints and, just in case, a bottle of vodka. Carrie met me back at the Captain’s lounge and we started walking to land. On the way, I boldly pulled out a joint, lit it and passed it her way.
“I don’t normally toke up so early in the day. I tend to get, uh, let’s just say ‘stimulated’ when I’m high” she remarked. “Me, too, Carrie. Me, too.”
She led me to a small bar and grill just off the main street. It was dimly lit and mostly empty. “They have a good kitchen here” she said. “I’ve never been disappointed.” We settled into a booth toward the back. After we ordered and our drinks arrived, we toasted to our new-found friendship. She seemed keenly interested in me, as I was with her. Our talk was all over the place, mostly about boating mishaps, tight situations, storms and whatnot. After we finished eating, I boldly suggested that we take a walk and enjoy another joint. “I haven’t seen you ‘stimulated’ yet, Carrie. Or have I just been missing it?”
“Oh, I’ve been stimulated. I just have a knack of hiding it pretty well. Let’s head back to the marina so I don’t have to hide it any more.”
We gravitated toward my boat, closer to land than hers. Once aboard, we slammed into each other like strong magnets. The sexual tension and innuendo had been thick and we now started acting out our fantasies.
Carrie was sufficiently ‘stimulated,’ that’s for sure. She was mauling me like a teenager just discovering sex for the first time. Her hands were all over my body. Her mouth was all over mine. Her pelvis was grinding into mine like there was no tomorrow. When she started to pull her top off over her head, I suggested that we go below for more privacy.
She climbed down below first and by the time I got there she was buck naked. One hand was squeezing her left boob, pinching her own nipple; the other hand was further down, making small circles on her clit. She was already moaning.
My shorts were on the floor in record time. Gravity has a way. Seeing my erect cock stimulated her even more. Carrie instantly dropped to her knees. She took hold of my stiff dick and put her lips around his swollen mushroom head. Her tongue licked my engorged shaft up and down; then he was back inside her warm, wet mouth. Her stimulation in full swing now, she began a delightful blowjob. She’d take it halfway in, return to tongue my sensitive underside, then back in her mouth. She continued this motion with an occasional trip all the way down her throat thrown in for good measure.
When she took him in deep, I moaned loudly in pleasure. As I watched my cock slide in and out of her cute, round face, she kept her big, beautiful eyes trained on me. I just wanted to unload my nuts down her throat. Just as I grabbed her head to start power fucking her face, she pushed away.
“Not so fast, Sailor. I’ve got both a pussy and an asshole, too, you know.” Standing there wanting more, I watched as she reclined on the bed. “How about trying my pussy, first?” she said. Her legs were spread wide and she pulled her labia open with her fingers, exposing a luscious looking cunt.
Even though my dick was rock hard and wanted nothing more than to slam into her open hole, I checked myself. I lay on my front between her legs and buried my face in her pussy. It was as exquisite and luscious as it appeared. Glistening, wet, inviting. Slurping her juices, licking her lips, finally focusing on her clit, I was in heaven.
I ravished her clit. I got her bucking and jerking in no time. Her shrieks of pleasure and her dirty talk spurred me on. I continued to tongue her clit, then used my fingers to diddle it back and forth hard and fast. With that, she arched her back and screamed “YES, YES … THAT’S IT … OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!” Her orgasm seemed to go on forever, providing me with a nearly endless supply of her sweet pussy juice.
“Oh, my lord. That was an intense orgasm, Sailor. How can I ever return the favor?” “Let’s start with a simple pussy fuck, Carrie. Get your legs up out of the way.”
I mounted her, her legs now up beside her head. My still throbbing cock needed some relief, pronto. I pushed him into her waiting hole. It was sloppy wet and she made for an easy, delightful fuck. It was stimulating to stare at her pretty face, framed with her blonde hair, her large expressive eyes trained on me as I enjoyed fucking her.
It didn’t take long before I blew my load. I shuddered as the spasms overtook me, squirting into her sloppy, gaping pussy.
اسم الموضوع : Ch. 75: Carrie Makes Me Feel Welcome
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المصدر : Sex Stories
