Chapter 13: Boats and Trains

Opening Day at the Sailing Club

September 5, 1976

We woke up in the middle of the morning; Lori opened the curtains to let the sunlight stream into the room. She looked stunningly beautiful; silhouetted against the window, the morning light making her hair gleam, like burnished gold. I couldn’t believe just how lucky I was, to be in love with such a beautiful woman, and to have her in love with me. She came back to our bed, pushed me down on the mattress, and climbed on top of my body, mounting me. We made love; Lori riding me slowly until she came, and she then increased her speed, sliding up and down frantically as I came inside her.

After breakfast, it was off to the sailing club; we drove, rather than take the boat. On the trip up to Clareville, Lori was telling me all about the offshore race yesterday; some of the changes that had been made to the boat and the sails. I didn’t understand the significance of most of the things she was excited about; but it was enjoyable just to listen to her enthusiasm.

When we arrived at the club most of the regulars were already there; Don explained the program for the day; first there would be a ceremonial ‘sail past’; in the club committee boat would be Neil Mattes, the Commodore, and his wife Dianne. We would string up all of the flags and pennants Don had using the main halyard to hoist them to the top of the mast. At least he now had acquired a little 3 horsepower ‘eggbeater’ outboard motor for the boat.

Once the formal sail-past was done with, we would line up for the race; the course was pretty simple, up to the entrance to Pittwater, around the ‘K’ mark next to Barrenjoey headland, then a run down to the Taylor’s Point mark, across to a mark west of Scotland Island, then a beat back to the finish line.

“I’ve got a new lightweight spinnaker, a drifter,” Don said. “It should be ideal on a day like today; it’s only for winds below ten knots. It is much larger than the standard spinnaker, and the pole has to be mounted much lower on the mast. I’ll show you the new fitting I added; it will make gybing a bit trickier, since the pole will be so close to the deck, but you should be right with it.”

We rowed out to the boat and started getting ready for the day’s sailing. From a sail-bag Don pulled out a string of pennants; we tied one end to the bow rail, the other end to a cleat at the stern; and clipped the main halyard to the centre. Once we hoisted them to the top of the mast, we had a nice string of pennants and flags fluttering on display. Then it was attaching the Australian flag; well, the red ensign version of it to the backstay, along with the club pennant. Don clamped the outboard in place, started it up, and I cast off the mooring line.

We motored out to where the others were starting to form up; we got a closer look at the other boats; John Taylor had a new boat, a J24, that Lori said would be a strong competitor to us. He had Ian McDonald as his crew; Ian was not much older than Lori and I, but he looked every bit like a wild Scotsman with a bushy red beard and long hair. He would have been more at home wearing a kilt, and playing bagpipes on some Scottish moor, or beating off the Sassenach invaders with a shillelagh or whatever it was they used. He was a good sailor; a few years back he was the State Flying Fifteen champion. His younger sister, Fiona was in our year back at high school. They would definitely be a boat to watch, not only was it brand new, but both John and Ian were very good sailors; fiercely competitive.

There was another new boat; it looked like a small dinghy on steroids; a gently rounded hull, open at the back with a small day cabin. Don saw me looking at it, and started to tell me about it.

“That’s Jeff Carter’s latest boat, ‘Bloomin EdAke’, that’s going to be one to really watch,” he said. “He’s got young Ross Trembath crewing with him; Ross was a sailor here for a number of years, a really good dinghy sailor, until he left when he went to Uni. That boat will be dynamite.”

He then explained how it was designed more like a dinghy, so it would plane, and hence its speed wasn’t limited to the hull speed, like typical displacement boats. He and Lori then explained the difference between the two hull styles to me. All rather complex, but it sort of made sense.

“It’ll be a real handful when the winds get up, though,” Lori said. “Without a full size hull and keel, there’s nothing there to balance it, so it’s very twitchy, and weight distribution is critical. Just as well it’s not going to be too windy today.”

It was time to join the sail past procession; we slotted in behind Ron Parker’s ‘Sama’, and just in front of the Norm and Wendy Field on ‘Fat Cat’. As we went past the committee boat, we all saluted; it seemed rather formal to me; but I guess that’s what the protocol involved. Once that was over, it was time to rig things for the race. The string of pennants and the Australian flag were lowered and packed away. Don had also got some new light weather spinnaker sheets; a fancy high strength, but very low weight type of rope; some composite material apparently. They were still rigged the same way; I made sure they were outside everything; and clipped them to the spinnaker halyard up on the bow.

He showed me the new lightweight ‘drifter’ spinnaker; it seemed to be twice the size of the usual one; and the fabric was very thin. He said it was cut so it was fuller than the normal one, which I would see once it was up and flying. With everything ready, we grabbed a quick bite to eat; Lori and I had made some sandwiches for a light lunch. With fifteen minutes before the start; we took a trial run towards the line to get an ideal of the wind pressure and direction. It was still pretty light, maybe six or seven knots; perhaps it would fill in soon. With the wind from the north-east, we might have to tack all the way up Pittwater, unless it shifted to the east.

Don and Lori had settled on what they thought would be the best way to start; we synchronised our watches with the five minute gun, and started our run towards the line. I positioned myself up at the bow; where I could get a bearing on the line, and tell them how far we were from the line, and let Lori know where the other boats were. With thirty seconds to go, I estimated we would probably cross the line maybe ten or fifteen seconds after the starting gun, so I told them to crack on a bit more speed. I counted down the distance, we had picked up a bit of speed, and when the gun went off, we were maybe ten metres from the line. I scurried back to my position on the rail; we all seemed pretty happy with our start. We crossed the line close to the committee boat; so we already had some ‘height’ over the other boats, which were further to leeward than us. Don always told us that it was much easier to drop down to leeward than climb up into the wind.

It certainly felt as if the hull cleaning that Don had done during the week was making a significant difference; we were moving at a good speed up towards Stoke’s Point; where we had to keep the mark there to our port side. Several of the boats that had started at the leeward end of the line weren’t going to make the mark without tacking; so already we had an advantage over them. By the time we passed the Stoke’s Point mark, there were four boats in the leading group; us, Ron Parker in ‘Sama’, Jeff Carter’s ‘EdAke’, and the Fields on ‘Fat Cat’.

By the time we were approaching Barrenjoey and the top mark, our group had stretched our lead over the rest of the fleet. I went forward to rig the spinnaker; and I saw just how low the new eye for the spinnaker pole was. Gybing it was going to be a challenge, rather than having the pole at shoulder height; it was down around my knees. Just as well I had been doing all that gym work!

We were third around the top mark; as soon as we were clear, Don gave the command ‘hoist’, and I quickly got the spinnaker to the top of the mast. When Don pulled the brace back, it popped into shape, quickly filling and the boat started to shoot forward. I took the spinnaker sheet in my hands, and stood up at the back of the cockpit where I could watch the top edge of the sail. Despite the larger size of this sail, at least with the lower wind speed it wasn’t such a struggle to keep the sail trimmed; it certainly made a difference to our speed relative to the others; and by the time we were off the Palm Beach mark we had overtaken ‘Sama’, and were catching Jeff’s rocket machine.

Lori and Don discussed various ways to get past them; despite their manoeuvres Ian was too cunning; if we tried to go below them, he altered course just enough that we weren’t able to do it that way, and if we tried to block his wind with our sails, he pinched up higher, still keeping his lead.

“We can try to keep this sail up for the reach across to the mark off Scotland Island,” Don said. “It’s going to be rather tight, but if we let the pole forward it should work. I can’t see ‘Ed Ake’ being able to carry their spinnaker on a tight reach though; they won’t be able to stay upright.”

Don was right; we were only a boat length or two behind them as we rounded the mark at Taylor’s Point; but they weren’t able to sail as high as we could. There was now a lot more pressure on my arms trimming the kite; not that I cared as we easily overtook the other boat while they had to drop their spinnaker and get their genoa back up, which clearly they hadn’t prepared for, judging by the confusion on board. Meanwhile, behind us Jeff Carter, Norm Field, John Taylor and Ron Parker were in a great duel for the minor places; which was all to our advantage because while they fought each other, they weren’t concentrating on catching us.

At the Scotland Island mark, I hoisted the genoa inside the spinnaker, let the spinnaker halyard go, and hauled in what seemed like acres and acres of sailcloth. Fortunately I didn’t screw that up; none of the sail ended up in the water. I unclipped the sheets and halyard, and stuffed the huge sail down below. I would pack that when we had finished, since there wasn’t another downwind leg in the race today.

We set ourselves on a tight port tack, getting a line on the finish. We were probably a good sixty or seventy metres ahead of Ron; he was maintaining a boat length or so lead over John, with Jeff closing in behind. Unless something broke, or we screwed up badly, there was little chance of anyone catching us; and that was the order across the finish line; we got the gun ahead of Sama and John’s J-24, Jeff almost catching him. Fat Cat was behind them, and then the rest of the fleet gradually finishing. We dropped the sails, and as Don motored back to his mooring, we congratulated John and Ross for a good race. Once everything was squared away, the sails packed and all the ropes coiled up, we fastened the cover over the deck, and rowed back to the clubhouse.

“Starting the new season where you finished off last year,” Neil said as we walked into the main clubroom. “That was a good performance; I’m sure the handicapper will want to talk to you about that new spinnaker, Don. I’m sure that’s not within the E22 class specifications though.”

“Well, since we aren’t racing to the one design rules, I didn’t think it would matter,” he said. “I’m prepared to take a ding on my handicap with it though.”

As the others arrived back at the clubhouse, we stood around talking about how the race went, congratulating others on their performance, and discussing boats and sails. Before we left, Neil asked me if I would be able to help out next Saturday morning for a working bee; there was a long list of maintenance items that needed doing. I told him that I would be happy to help out; I could only stay until lunchtime, but I would get to the club when things started at seven thirty.

On the way back to Lori’s place, she sat close to me, and rubbed my arms.

“You did really well trimming today,” she said. “How are the muscles feeling?”

“Not sore or aching at all; I’m sure all the work I’ve been doing at the gym has really helped. It was only in the reach from Taylor’s Point to the Scotland Island mark that there was a lot of pressure in the sail; maybe on days when the wind is up it will be different.”

“Well, you did a great job trimming on that reach; that’s where we really won the race, the guys on that other boat weren’t able to keep their big kite up. You pretty much won it for us there.”

“It wasn’t all my work,” I said. “I really don’t think what I do has much of an effect on our race; all I do is what you or Don tells me to do; I’m just the muscle that implements your directions.”

“No, that’s not true at all,” she said. “You’ve become a valuable member of the crew; at the start you were spot on telling me I could speed up; you see boats that I can’t because they are behind the sails, and while you’ve been doing that, I have never had to take emergency action to avoid a collision. You keep us advised of what the other boats are doing, you wouldn’t believe just how useful you’ve become. I know Don’s really impressed with having you with us.”

“Well, as long as I’m actually useful, and I’m not in the way; I enjoy it, particularly when we win. Being with you, doing stuff with you that you enjoy, that’s half of the fun of it all.”

“I really like having you sailing with me, too,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I like how everyone can see you there with me, and they know that you are my boyfriend.”

We arrived back at Lori’s place; time for a quick shower to rinse the sweat and salt water spray from us before we packed things into the car, and drove back to town, picking up Megan on the way.

“Are you still planning on the train fuck sometime this week?” she asked.

“Yeah, most likely Thursday night,” Lori answered. “We can tell you all about it on Friday when we come back to Mona Vale. I doubt Ros will have printed the photos by then, but you can hear how it all went. We were thinking originally of Tuesday night, but my period is due to start tonight, so the next couple of days will be ‘red letter’ days.”

“Photos! Are you going to get her to actually photograph you in the act?” Megan sounded shocked. “How can you get things like that developed and printed?”

“Ros has a full darkroom facility at her work; they do all the photo processing for their magazines there,” Lori explained. “There has to be the photographic evidence to prove that we actually did it; that’s all part of the game.”

“I will love to see those when they are ready; but I’m not sure I would be brave enough to have photos taken of me doing that. You are a lot braver than I am!”

“It’s not a case of being brave or not; I mean, it’s not like everyone in the world will be seeing them; they are just for Will and I, and some other close friends, like you, to see. I mean, it’s not as if you haven’t seen my pussy before, you’ve even seen Will’s cock sliding in and out of my cunt, from really close up, too.”

“Well, true, but just the thought of someone taking a photo of me there; I guess if it was someone that I know well enough, and trust, I might consider it. You’re very quiet, Will, what do you think about being photographed having sex with Lori?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had some rather, um, personal photos taken of me,” I replied. “A few years ago Cathy took some rather intimate photos of me, which was a lot of fun. But I can understand how you’re feeling; you really have to have a good deal of trust in the person taking the photos.”

“Do you still have those photos of us?” Lori said. “I’d love to see them again.”

“So you were in them too?” Megan asked. “What did they actually show?”

“I’m trying to remember,” she replied. “I think there were ones of Will licking my nipples, and he was fingering me. Some showed him coming, too.”

“Really?” Megan exclaimed. “I bet they look really sexy; I’d love to see them at some stage; I mean if you don’t mind.”

“When you come over on Wednesday, we can look through them,” I said. “Assuming I can find them; I think I know where they are.”

Lori and Megan chatted more about what it was like to have the ‘intimate’ photos taken; how initially it was difficult concentrating on what she and I had been doing; trying to concentrate on Cathy’s directions, while staying aroused in what was a pretty clinical setting. Lori said how she would like to try doing some of that modelling again; obviously not with Cathy this time; but she explained how having such erotic photos taken of her made her feel especially sexy and empowered.

“This probably sounds really corny, but when I do something like that; have photos taken, or what we are planning to do on the train,” Lori started to explain. “When I do things that are way beyond what society considers ‘acceptable behaviour’ for a woman, when I really push the limits of what is seen as right, doing that makes me feel like I’m poking all the wowsers and spoilsports in the eye. Like all those do-gooders who get all bent out of shape with nude beaches being around Sydney, for example.

“I’m telling all of them ‘hey, this is my body, I think it’s a great body, and if I want to lie out here in the sun naked, then that’s my business. If you don’t like it, then don’t look at me.’ When I lie on a beach naked, it makes me feel like I’m sticking it to all of those prudes and wowsers.”

“Wow! And all the time, I thought that you just liked letting me look at your tits,” I said.

“Well, there’s that part of it too,” she said. “I just happen to like having you look at my tits, and the rest of my body.”

“I like having Will look at my tits, too,” Megan said. “I like the way he shows his appreciation at looking at them, too. You don’t get bored of seeing Lori’s naked body, or mine, considering when we are at home, we are generally naked?”

“Do you get bored of seeing me naked?” I asked back at her. “I guess the raw excitement of seeing something that I’ve lusted after for a while goes away, but not the internal feelings of pleasure at seeing something beautiful, something lovely. It’s funny, Lori and I have been living together for over two months, and I still get a thrill out of getting home and being naked with her, seeing her body.”

“I still enjoy it, too,” Lori said. “Even though I’ve seen Will naked many times before, I still find it erotic to see his body, and to see how he reacts to mine.”

“Well, I’m not there every day to see the two of you naked,” Megan said. “But I still get a thrill when I enter your place, and go into the bedroom to undress.”

“Maybe you should consider moving in with us next year, if we can find a big enough house,” Lori suggested.

“Are you sure?” Megan said. “I mean, that would be good, but that would mean seven of us, in the one place. Do you think we could find something big enough?”

“It would mean five bedrooms; unless you wanted to share with Jillian,” I said. “We can check with the others, see what they think.”

“I guess at a pinch I could share a room with her,” she replied. “Unless she wouldn’t want me to share her room, I might cramp her style with you.”

“Although if I wasn’t in my bed, sleeping with Lori, because I was sleeping with her, you might be in bed with Lori,” I replied.

“Or the other way around, when Will sleeps with you, Jillian might want to sleep with me,” Lori added. “Anyway, if you want, we’ll sound out the others, it’s probably no more difficult to find a place for the seven of us over a place for six.”

“There’s enough room around our dining table for seven; even eight,” I said. “If there were two bathrooms, then that might reduce congestion. I will start looking around, see what we can find.”

“All I would need is the piano somewhere; but you were talking about finding a house with an area that we can set up a studio for the group, so that should fit,” she said. “The only other stuff I have is a bed, a dresser, and a crappy old sofa set.”

“Between all of us we can get enough kitchen items, plates, and silverware,” Lori said. “I think it would be fun to have you with us, Megan.”

“I think it would be fun living with you all, too,” she replied. “And I wouldn’t have to pick my way over the passed out drunks each morning on my way to classes, or risk seeing the prostitutes servicing their clients if I went outside at night.”

We had now arrived at Megan’s place; we helped her take her things inside. She gave both Lori and I long, deep kisses before we left. We drove back to our place, unpacked the car and started work on dinner. Afterwards, we sat in the study, going over our notes and assignments for the coming week.

“What things have you got coming up?” Lori asked me. “I’m trying to work out what night might be best for our train excursion.”

I pulled open my organizer, and looked at this month’s calendar.

“Hmm, the only things I have on are the sailing club working bee next Saturday; there’s no racing on Sunday, I believe,” I said. “Next week it’s the ALP meeting on Tuesday night, and that’s pretty much it until the week of Monday the 27th, when Megan and I are in the recording studio all week. As far as assignments go, there’s a Physics assignment due at the end of next week; a Chemistry lab report due then too. That’s going to be a fucking disaster; I don’t think Barry and I have had one successful lab session all semester. We’ll just have to fudge our way through that. There’s a Maths programming assignment due on the 24th, and a Comp Sci project due then. Everything seems due just before the mid-semester break!”

“Well, assuming my period starts on time later tonight, it should be over by Wednesday; but that’s when Megan’s coming over. What if we go for Thursday night, how about I give Ros a call; see if that works for her and Wendy?”

“Sounds good to me,” I replied. “So, if your period starts tonight, I guess there’s no sex until Wednesday at the earliest?”

“No way! You should know me better than that by now,” she replied, grinning wildly. “You know how horny I get during my period; in fact, if you’ve finished your study for the night, I think I need you to fuck me before the night gets later.”

We made our way to the bed; Lori going via the bathroom to grab one of the old towels. We fucked pretty wildly to start with; ending up with Lori riding me hard and fast. She rolled off me, and lay next to me on our bed. After a while kissing and cuddling; we started to make love again, this time slower and gentler. Lori was lying on her back, and I was above her; in the classic “missionary position”. Once we had both come again, it was off to the bathroom. I noticed a trace of blood on the tip of my knob, and I pointed that out to Lori.

“I’m not surprised,” she said. “My period is normally right on schedule; there’s nothing like a few strong orgasms to bring it on. Maybe you might like to have a go at putting my tampon in, once we’ve finished our shower.”

When we were dry; she handed me a fresh tampon, still in its paper wrapper, and we went back to the bedroom. She lay back on the bed, and told me how to slide it into her, making sure the string was just hanging out.

“I’ll put the old towel underneath me, just in case the flow is a bit too heavy,” she said.

I curled up behind her, and we drifted off to sleep.

Lori’s Red Letter Days

September 6 - 9, 1976

When the alarm woke her up on Monday morning, Lori ducked off to the bathroom, and returned to properly wake me up by riding me until she came; twice. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the wake-up sex; just after her second orgasm, I came; groaning loudly as I spurted inside her. We took a hot shower to clean up, then some breakfast, and it was off to University for the day’s classes. Before I left, she asked what I felt about having Ros, Wendy and Murph over for dinner the next day; I thought that would be a good idea.

Classes were pretty much as usual; I was still being ignored by the ‘Greg and Jenny’ group, as if that would cause me to lose sleep! Let them play their little games, frankly, I couldn’t give a rat’s arse, as the saying goes. It did make the Elec Eng classes and lab sessions a little sensitive; unlike some of the other classes where there were hundreds of people; in these there were only the hundred or so in our year. It was harder to hide out and remain away from the people who would otherwise make some smart-arse comments. There were still plenty of others; either those who had taken my side in the dispute; or the majority of people who really weren’t concerned either way. During the lunch break, I had a solid workout in the gym; I was pleased that there weren’t any lingering muscle aches or stiffness after yesterday’s race.

By the time classes had finished, around four in the afternoon, the weather had changed, and it was now raining. Well, that was an understatement; the heavens had opened, and I had to deal with a torrential downpour on the ride home. Of course, there was so much rain that many of the roads had lots of standing water on them; drivers seemed to take great delight in causing a huge spray of water to dump on me as they drove past. By the time I got home; I was soaked to the skin; I felt like a drowned rat. I didn’t try to go inside the house; I just stuck my head in the back door, and called out to Lori. As I was in the bathroom peeling off my wet clothes, she joined me in the room.

“A bit wet riding home?” she asked, looking at my drenched state.

“A bit wet? Fuck me; I am soaked to the skin.”

I told her how every driver seemed to take a perverse delight in making sure I was sprayed with a sheet of water as they drive past me. She hugged me; pressing her warm body against my wet and cold one.

“Maybe you should make love to me,” she suggested. “If I bend over the bathtub, take me from behind, doggy style.”

She knelt down in front of me, placing her warm, wet lips around my cold prick. Soon, the warmth of her mouth, and the lovely sucking had me erect and ready for her. She leant over the side of the bathtub; with her sexy arse pointing towards me. She was kneeling on the floor, her legs wide apart, she reached behind her, and with her hands, pulled her thighs and buttocks apart, giving me a good view of her arse and pussy.

“Go on, fill me up,” she commanded.

I moved in behind her, and rubbed my knob along her wet pussy. She moaned as I rubbed across her clit; she jerked back at me, imploring me to stop teasing, and “stick that cock in my cunt right now!” I smiled as I guided my cock into her open target; by now I was getting accustomed to just how horny Lori became during her period; not that she was bashful or anti-sex during the other parts of the month. I held her hips and rammed home, slamming my hips against her buttocks. She grunted as I completely filled her cunt; I fucked her hard and fast, not pausing at the top of each stroke; but continuing to pound into her.

“Oh, God, that’s just how I love being fucked,” she groaned. “Keep going, you’re going to make me... OH YEAH! FUCK THAT’S JUST WHAT I NEEDED!!!“

I had to hold her tight against me so that I didn’t lose my footing with all her jerking around. When things had settled down, I continued fucking her, but slower, more deliberately; it didn’t take much before I was coming inside her.

“Oh that was so good,” I groaned, holding her hips tight against me. “That was just what I needed to warm myself up after that cold and soaking ride home.”

“Let’s get into the shower, that will really warm you up,” she said.

She was right; the hot water was just what I needed. After we had washed each other, and rinsed off the menstrual blood from around my prick and balls, Lori bent over, facing away from the shower head, and rubbed her backside against my prick. I became hard again, and she reached underneath herself to guide my prick back inside. I thrust back and forward; not that I was able to come again so soon, but it was comforting being coupled like this. After a minute or so, we stopped, rinsed ourselves again, turned off the water, got out of the shower and dried each other off. Lori got a fresh tampon from the drawer in the vanity unit, and held it up for me to see.

“Care to do the honours?” she asked.

I unwrapped the tampon, and as she stood in front of me, with her legs apart, I guided it up inside her, making sure the string was just hanging out.

“You’re getting good at that,” she said.

After dinner, we worked together in the study; she on her assignments, and me on mine. I went over the lecture notes from the day’s lectures; rewriting my disjointed scribbles into some semblance of notes; then it was into the physics assignment. Calculating red and blue shifts for binary star systems; not incredibly complicated, just a bunch of formulas to plug values into and churn out the answer. Thank goodness for scientific calculators!

It was still raining solidly when we decided to go to bed; if it hadn’t cleared up by the morning I would drive across to uni. I didn’t feel like another soaking; there wouldn’t be a way to change into dry clothes once I arrived there. Once in bed, we made love again; this time slowly and tenderly with lots of touching and stroking each other. When she decided that it was actually time for me to penetrate her; she asked me to remove her tampon first, and then to slowly slide into her.