Chapter 3: The Merediths

As the pair rejoined the gaping people yammering on the bow, he commented to Robby, “Listen, when the Coast Guard asks where you were when all this started, you were asleep in your cabin. Alone, get it. Let’s not get things complicated, huh?”

Robby nodded in compliance. “Yeah, sure. I’ll tell Phoebe, too.”

They walked up to the rest of the group, staring at the burning debris and all trying to talk at once. Captain Jimmy boomed out, “Okay, everyone inside! Let’s get settled.” The Jensons led the way, leading the three rescued women into the main deck’s salon, followed by Phoebe. Jason waddled behind and was stopped short by the captain. He thought the teen was a most improbable sight, tall and thin, wrapped from mid-chest to mid-thigh in some kind of a cushion, with rope holding it tight, and it reminded him of a hot dog too big for the bun. “What the hell are you, kid, the Oscar Meyer Wiener?”

Jason faced the much larger and older man. “We didn’t have enough life jackets, so I wrapped this cushion around me. It’s supposed to be an emergency flotation device.” He began to pick at the knot holding it to his waist.

Jim shrugged and said, “Who knows, might have worked. Move your hands.” He pulled out a pocketknife and sliced the bindings. “Although I suspect that the way you’re wearing it, you’d probably end up floating face down. Next time, try rolling it up, and tying it in a bundle, then holding on.”

Jason looked surprised but nodded as he considered this. He shrugged out of the improvised life preserver and followed the others inside. Everybody was still standing and heading towards the galley/dinette, with the rest of his family asking for something to drink. They had been on deck for well over an hour in the warm night air and were quite thirsty.

Robby came to their rescue. He had quickly noticed the three women were all extraordinarily good looking, and his hormones were racing. He quickly set four glasses out, then reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the fresh pitcher of orange juice. Four full glasses were quickly downed by the parched family, along with refills.

Phoebe had been slow to react, otherwise she would have served them something else, anything at all other than the orange juice. Eyes aghast, she caught Malcolm’s eye and made several glances at the pitcher. It took him a few seconds, and then his eyes opened wide as well in understanding. He could only stare as the foursome finished off the juice. He had given Phoebe ‘the drug’ to put in the juice earlier in the evening, so that she could prepare the mixture while Robby and Jim were on deck. He had expected it to be served to just the five of them in the morning, with some left over. Now these innocents had consumed a double dose!

Unbeknownst to the captain and his crew, Malcolm had been spiking the drinks on board with a regular dosage of ‘the drug’ which he had invented years ago. Created accidentally as a byproduct of peptide research, Malcolm had discovered that the harmless additive was a potent aphrodisiac. A single dose lasted up to a week or more, and it was powerful enough to put Viagra to shame. The effect on women was pronounced, causing them to shed all their inhibitions and increase their desire for sex by a wide margin. The effect on men was even more noticeable. A man taking ‘the drug’ could screw for hours, cumming and then regaining his erection for another go-around within minutes. Over a twenty-four-hour day a man could fuck a dozen times to ejaculation, easily.

After Malcolm had noted the effects on lab rats, guinea pigs, and other small mammals, all to seemingly no other effect on their health, he had tested it on himself. Not only was he pleased, his wife was astonished and deliriously happy. After worming the secret out of him, she had insisted on trying it herself, and the pair had spent the better part of a week in bed, fucking non-stop. Since they loved each other deeply, but were not terribly concerned about monogamy, they had initiated members of their staff into its usage. The effects were electrifying. The maid and cook became a harem for Malcolm, and the butler and handyman became a stud service for Caroline. Clothing became optional for all involved, and since the staff’s duties were relatively light, sex games became an around-the-clock passion for everyone.

Not wishing either his wife or Phoebe to miss out on their accustomed heavy fucking, Malcolm had allowed the two to secretly dose the orange juice once a week, so that Jim and Robby would join in the games. The effect had been all that they could wish for. Both men were tall, strong, and handsome, and even Malcolm had been impressed by the size of the erections they sported. Now their off-duty hours were spent servicing one or the other, or even both, of the eagerly compliant women on board, to everyone’s delight.

Now these newcomers had partaken. Within twenty-four hours, thirty-six at most, all four would be desperately horny.

The excited babbling had dulled to a loud roar when the captain spoke up. “Just who are you folks anyway?”

Startled at the realization that nobody had been introduced, Maggie spoke up. “Oh, yes, well, I’m Maggie Meredith, and this is my mother Barbara, and these are my two kids, Mary and Jason Flanagan.”