Find the Right Talent and Train Them Well-a Dream Comes True

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Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, True Story, First, Oral Sex, Petting, Sex Toys, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: While I thought it might be love. She was getting good sex. I never imagined I was a fuck buddy in training. I might have been naive but I didn't waste a good opportunity. When your dream woman teaches you what she wants, you learn to perform.



Birds do it. Bees do it. Even educated fleas do it.

Cole Porter

No, Damnit. I don't mean falling in love. Fuck. I can't get laid. Not for lack of trying. I'm a typical perpetually horny young man. Masturbation was a better choice than death by priapism. I'm stuck between my little heads frustrated search for a zipless fuck and my big heads futile search for a story book romance with a strong earth woman mother of my children.

My little heads charging for the goal. My big heads testing each kiss against until death do us part. Not to make excuses, but I'm convinced there's some conspiracy that keeps me from having sex ... Could the problem be all inside my head? Well, maybe it just takes the right woman...

I met her one warm summer Saturday morning at the college sailing club. I was skippering one of eight boats giving introductory sailboat rides to prospective members. The boat was a Penguin, an 11 foot cat rigged hard chine dingy; or a small tippy sailboat with one sail to you landlubbers. Sail boats are expensive so we recruited a lot of club members, charged them dues, and threw outrageous parties to collect the door fees. If they never learned to sail that was OK. Meanwhile the serious sailors used the dues to maintain the boats.

I had just brought the boat up to the dock so my current suckers (read guests) could climb out. The next passenger was standing on the dock. Before she climbed into my boat, all I could see from under the sail was the bottom half of a leggy young woman in short shorts. Things are looking up, the last passengers were overweight duds.

Then she stepped aboard. She was head down, bent over ducking under the boom. I liked the eye popping view down the front of her scoop neck cotton shell. It wasn't my fault her top gapped open. I'm a guy, I couldn't help but look. All the way to her navel. Good God.

When she looked up, her long dark brown ponytail loosely shadowed her fair skinned face. I managed to get my eyes up off her chest before hers met mine. She sat on the thwart. I smiled. She smiled. The guys on the dock shoved the bow out. I trimmed the sail, we were off. "Hi, I'm Dave, What's your name?"

"Uh, Sue," her breath caught as she quickly looked around. She looked close to panic. Maybe it's because I'm lounging in the bilge aft of the centerboard trunk with my broken leg in a thigh high cast. My heel is stiffly propped against the gunwale. (That's the edge of the boat, pronounced gunnel to you landlubbers.)

The breeze is gentle, but enough to move the boat well. I head off on a reach. The boat heeled a little. Not much, just right to balance the boat. She gasped watching the lee rail gently dip toward the water. An obvious newbie. Sailboats aren't designed to sail perfectly upright.

I crab walked around on my butt to level the boat, flatter than it should be.

"It's cool, you're safe. Really, it's light air today. Believe me; I don't want to go swimming with a cast. I've been sailing for years. Today is just for fun. You can just sit right there and I'll take care of everything if you want."

She still looked panicked. The boat might be going all of three miles an hour.

"Why don't you sit over here?" I said pointing to the windward thwart.

She climbed over the center board trunk to a take a seat as I ask, "First time sailing?"

"Uh, yeah..." Her head is still on a swivel. I can almost hear her heart pound.

"It's a beautiful day. Are you interested in learning or just along for a ride?"

She took a deep breath before saying, "How about, I watch. You show me what to do." At least she's breathing. Some first timers' just plain freak.

"OK, I'll give you plenty of warning before we do anything. Pay attention and we'll stay dry." Smile.

She was real easy to look at. A few years older than me, I think. Beautiful. Way out of my league, beautiful. So far out, I just stopped thinking about her as a female and admired her beauty like I was admiring the day.

For the next half hour we sailed the reservoir. It only took moments to teach her the crew's job. While tacking the boat, I would warn, "ready about", to let her know to get ready. She then calmly waited for me to say "hard a lee" before I pushed the tiller over to the side. As the boat tacked through the wind she smoothly moved to the windward side. It wasn't really necessary. The wind was calm, but it gave her something to do. I got to look at her ass too. Yeah, I'm way that classy. Sometimes she turned my way to grace me with another fine flash of her cleavage. I tried not to overdo the tacking.

In between the sailing lessons, we talked about our interests. I'm an engineer, but I could talk enough literature, art, and nature to make polite conversation. Sue was taking bio-chemistry to build up credits as she applied to med school. Sexiest nerd I ever met.

On the dock, I could see a line waiting for their introductory ride. 'Ah, crap, ' I think to myself. 'Time to do my duty, with another bunch of newbies.' By the time we returned to the dock, she was relaxed. I didn't want Sue to leave.

As I brought the boat to the dock, luffing into the wind, one of the dock crew grabbed the forestay. I had just a moment to say. "Nice to meet you, Sue. I hope to see you at lunch, stick around for a while. Meet some of the folks, OK?"

She grinned, saying, "Yeah, I'll stay for a while, thanks for the ride," then stepped onto the dock. As my next passengers stepped aboard, I watched her walk up the dock. She was very distracting.

After the next set of passengers got their tour, I called for a lunch break. After docking the boat I crawled out with the passengers. Another club member took over as skipper, escorting still more guests on an introductory ride. As sat there on the dock, Sue came up with my crutches.

'This is my lucky day.' thought I. "Thanks," came out of my mouth.

On introductory sail days the club served hot dogs and baked beans for lunch. A left over keg of beer from last night's party helped the dogs go down. Over our lunch, I found out more about Sue. She had graduated with a business degree, then after working for a year decided to try for medical school. Her grades were good, but she needed several undergrad pre-med science courses that a business degree had not required.

I shared that I'm a mechanical engineering student, now thinking that Mech. E. isn't quite right for me. There isn't enough consideration of the importance of people or human factors in the Mech. E. coursework. I'm thinking of a switch to industrial engineering. I fogged about the part that I'm a part-time student still only a sophomore, hoping she won't notice our age difference.

She asked about my cast. "I went skydiving after finals. This is my souvenir. It was my third jump. It was great until I blew my ankle out on the landing. It was a nasty break, but the doc put it back together."

She asked, "Does it hurt?" with a look of true concern.

"It hurt for the first two weeks, not much now. I just use ibuprofen when it does. I've got another month or so in the cast. Mostly it just itches." The cast stretched my leg out straight running from top of my thigh to toe tip. My knee is locked straight and the toes point like a ballerina. It's so long I'm stuck riding sideways in the back seat of most cars. No way do I fit in a front seat, let alone drive. No wonder she looked at me weird when she got in the boat.

"It swells and hurts when it hangs low for too long. Most of the time I'm flat on my back with my leg propped up, so I'm back staying with my parents. Oh, well, so much for a summer of work to earn money. I had planned to be cutting timber."

She reached out to touch my arm as I told my story. It was a caring touch. To myself I'm thinking how glad I am crutches have made my arms strong. Mostly I'm thinking how pretty she is. How nice she is. So much fun to talk with. Truly, my lucky day.

Our conversation rambled into the afternoon. Noticing the time, I say, "Let me interrupt your thought for a moment. Though it's very nice talking with you, if we stay much longer we will get roped into clean up. I was on early set up crew so it's time to get out while the gettin's good."

"And I have a request. Obviously I can't drive like this. Can I catch a ride with you? It's on the way back to campus." Much to my amazement, she agreed. I rode in her back seat, leg propped up, watching her drive. Just as good looking and fun to talk with as before. We sat in my parents driveway with her turned backwards leaning over the seat talking for over an hour.

The next time we see each other is at a sailing club party. A series of women are decorating my cast with colored markers. Babe magnet. It almost makes the ankle worth it.

Then, there she is signing my cast. We talk for a while before she asks, "Need a ride?"

It isn't that late, but she is ready to leave. I'm not passing up her invitation.

At her car we talk before getting in. My cast makes entering the car a big production. I lean against the back door of her car. Crutches are braced under my arms; I'm hung like a puppet. She leans against me. I'm happily smashed up against her car by a very nice kiss. Hidden in the warm summer night shadows, her kiss stops time.

Then I swear she tried to crush me with her breasts. Our groins found each other's excitement. I hugged her back running my fingers through her long dark hair. Our first kisses were long and sweet, just a little tongue.

.... There is more of this story ...

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