Dorable
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2016 by oyster50

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12 - There are many ways to drop out of society and there are many reasons, as well. Josh is just, well, happy to be by himself. That is, until somebody shows up on his houseboat one day.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Slow  

Josh’s turn:

It didn’t take me very long to realize what we needed to do when we returned to Dorable after leaving Gee’s dad and mom. She’s got live parents. I don’t. I have regrets. I don’t want her to have those.

I was busy having a career, engineering my butt off on one project after another, across the country, a few overseas. Dad was proud. I called when I could, visited between jobs, but Dad’s last years coincided with some of my peak efforts to build a name and reputation. I got back in time for the last months of a galloping form of cancer.

I look at Gee, I remember the concern when she got the news, I remember her fidgeting and fretting because we couldn’t get home fast enough.

Made it simple. When we got back to Dorable, we hit the canal heading back out on the original plan, got a quarter mile up the channel, eastbound, and I decided. All she had to do...

“Josh...” she said.

“I already know, baby.”

“Know what?”

“What’s in your heart. This isn’t the best time to be heading into the swamps.”

She actually argued with me over it. I know - it’s a front. She’s relieved, and when I look at her, I read her relief. I also read her desire to suborn her own worries to our plans.

“Not gonna happen right now, Gee,” I said. “We’re going back. We can bop around the local area...”

“That place where we first went, the night you stuck me in that hammock...”

“You didn’t stay in the hammock, though,” I said.

“I wasn’t meant to be in that hammock, Josh. I was meant to be right where I ended up, close enough to feel you in the night.”

The trip back required an overnight stay. We nosed into a cut, taking advantage of the shallow draft of Dorable, and we got lucky fishing and snagged a catfish big enough to feed the two of us and Pickles as well.

The trip back is uneventful, and that’s not exactly a bad thing for the life we want to live. Watching the sunset from the raised vantage of the wheelhouse makes for a spectacular view. That’s a plus. The minus comes in when the mosquitoes come out. We abandon the upper deck for the screened, enclosed wheel in the cabin. The view’s not nearly as good, but it’s getting dark and we won’t see much anyway.

“We can put into one of those cuts, baby, and spend the night. Make the rest of the way in the morning,” Gee says.

“I don’t mind if you don’t mind. I know just the place.”

Here in the channel, the south bank is essentially non-existent. The canal proper runs along a marsh on its north side and a huge shallow lake on the south. The lake is too shallow for a pushboat and barges, but for Dorable it’s a refuge.

We simply turn south and leave the channel’s twelve-foot depth and get into the lake where it’s six feet and all I have to do is toss the good anchor over the side and let out twenty feet of chain and a hundred feet of three-quarter inch nylon line. Dorable‘s not going anywhere now. I flip on the anchor light at the top of our stubby mast and we’re good for the evening.

I’m glad to get back into the cabin. The mosquito repellent is not too effective against the hordes of blood-suckers from the surrounding marshes. Gee knows where I’m heading as soon as we figure out dinner.

“Breakfast at night,” she says. “Since we’re not rationing the fresh milk. Pancakes.”

“That’s quick and simple.” And that’s what we did.

After dinner, a double shower on the back deck was in order. I had to get the mosquito repellent off me before I felt presentable. So did Gee. I helped her make sure she got all the spots.

Squeal! “That part’s CLEAN!”

I laughed. “Sometimes it’s not about YOU, my dear. Neat little thingie you got there. I like to play...”

“Let me get dried off and we’ll play, for sure,” she giggled.

In a matter of minutes we were enjoying each other. She does all five of my senses. Hell, if the truth be known, she probably tantalizes a few senses unrecognized by modern science. That might explain why I fell for her so damned hard.

Speaking of ‘hard’: she was sliding blissfully downward from her second orgasm, me from my first, my increasingly flaccid dick still in the grasp of the turgid lips of her pussy.

She buried her cheek in my chest. I don’t know if she was paying attention to my breathing or what, but she said softly, “I wish we could weld ourselves together like this.”

“It is absolutely wonderful, Gee,” I replied.

She sighed, breathing deeply. “Except for those other things we do to each other. Maybe I should just spend the day with your face in my pussy.”

“That would work, too. A favorite thing.”

“Except I’d dehydrate from all the juicing.” She kissed me, long, fiery. I felt the wet plop as my softened dick fell free.

“Awwww...” she sighed. “Can I just stay here?”

I nodded. Yes, late spring. Yes, kind of warm. But this was naked Gee, and her red hair cascaded around her face hovering over mine and my feeble brain marveled at its good fortune.

She folded her hands on my chest, sliding down to rest her chin on them. That put us looking into each other’s eyes.

“Never gonna give you up, mister,” she said.

“Good,” I replied “I’m easy to keep.”

“You’re kinda right about one thing, though...”

“And that is?” I questioned.

“Air conditioning.” She rolled off me. “I don’t like being sticky...”

“Let’s go rinse down, then.” A quick shower was something I allowed myself when I wasn’t worried about water. I’d even pumped riverwater up to shower with, if it was a relatively clean river, but here ... no. Too much silt. Too much vegetation.

She bounced out of bed, still naked. I followed her. Uncharacteristically long shower for the boat, something we allowed ourselves since we expected to be in the home marina tomorrow.

By the dim light of a single tiny lamp we brewed a couple of mugs of herbal tea, sitting there loosely dressed after the shower, Pickles sitting on the little sofa between me and Gee.

“We can still do this, Josh,” she said. “Our day trip range...”

“I know.” I’d considered what our choice to ditch the big trip meant. I liked life on Dorable. What’s more, since she made herself a fixture on board with me, I liked life aboard Dorable with Gee. Pickles added his opinion by twisting about to put his head on her thigh, purring loudly. She responded by petting him, a move that brought MORE volume to his purring.

But back to the conversation. “Yeah, plenty of places.”

“Before it gets God-awful hot, we go back to that first place. And maybe a couple of days on the big lake. I liked that.”

Both of those destinations were pretty close in. If it was urgent, either of them would have us on-shore in a matter of a couple, maybe three hours.

“That’s what I had in mind, baby. We don’t even have to live aboard...”

“Summer, Josh. Summer, maybe we stay more at our house.”

Yes, it was ‘our’ house now. Just like it was ‘our’ boat and ‘our’ life. Despite some of the comments of former ‘friends’ about controlling the woman, I like life like this. Maybe it would be different if I’d married some ditzy moronette or self-centered bimbo, but this was Gee – the beautiful, quirky, delightful and amazingly level-headed Gee.

“I kind of did that before. When it starts cooling off next fall...”

I have similar thoughts – frosty mornings, the water warmer than the air sometimes that means the entire river is under a thin layer of fog, like I’m floating on a cloud, the air crisp, there’s nothing better than sipping that first mug of coffee, sitting out there with a jacket on, enjoying the solitude. Except that Gee replaces the solitude and the girl knows how to enjoy a cup of coffee in the morning. We have plans.

She’s over there watching me while I ponder her statement. I know she worries that she’s taking me away from some dream or some goal. That’s just it, though – before Gee, I didn’t have a goal. I didn’t have a dream. I was like a bit of driftwood, going where the winds and currents took me.

“I have Gee,” I said. I turned to her. “I am going to love sharing this with you in the winter.”

Something in her wiggle told Pickles that he ought to find another spot. His absence let Gee slide over next to me.

“My dear Josh ... I’ll make this up to you.”

“Make what?”

“Your big trip.”

“I told you, sweetie, it’s ... the trip is not my big plan. You’re my big plan.”

“Good. I kinda like you, you know...” She toyed with my ear.

“I’m glad. Made you a lot easier to haul off into the swamp. I didn’t need all the rope and duct tape.”

She giggled. “One of these days you’ll finally understand what I’m telling you.” She slid sideways, putting her head in my lap.

I’m a sucker, I guess, for exactly this - a lovely head of clean hair in my lap, and heaven help me, when I stroke her hair, she purrs louder than the cat. She stretches. My free hand roams over her body. Not a twinge or a movement that would indicate that she doesn’t desire this.

The two empty mugs go into the little sink at the galley and the thin covers, concession to the increasingly balmy nights, get turned down on the bed. And we’re in it. This time it’s not pure heated sex, it’s languorous caresses and kisses as we fall asleep with some soft classical music playing.

It’s happened before. Not EVERY night, mind you, but a few times. During the course of the night, I roll onto my back. The thin covers are down near my hips. I awake just long enough to get situated in the new position, then I drift back off to sleep. It starts out like part of a dream, except I’m not dreaming about sex, but that – that’s definitely part of a great sex dream.

I’m being gently sucked, first from complete flaccidity, then to erection, then my dick is nuzzled aside and tongue and lips tease and play with my balls, then those lips close over my dick again, teeth right behind them, gently gripping.

 
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