Chapter 1: Gary
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Romantic, Harem, Polygamy/Polyamory, Slow,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1: Gary - Gary stops a young woman from jumping off a bridge, and then whisks her away to see if she'd like to live a different kind of life.
"Ahhh – No, let go of me, let gooooo!" she wailed.
I didn't let go.
"I'm not going to let you jump," I told her firmly. I held on, as she struggled and sobbed, her fingers clawing at my arms, tears running down her cheeks. Slowly her struggling ebbed and her sobbing increased, until finally she was cradled in my arms, quivering quietly. She leaned into my grasp, turning it into an embrace. Her tears did not stop.
Reaching into my pocket with one hand, while holding her upright with the other, I pulled out my cell phone and managed to hit the correct autodial.
"Jake – sorry to wake you," I said into the phone when I'd finally gotten an answer. "I need you to pick me up ASAP, in the Explorer. I'm at the Brick St. Bridge, mid-span. Please hurry – I need you here ten minutes ago."
"Right, boss. I'm on it. Good thing I sleep in my clothes, huh," he said, and he hung up.
I could count on Jake, but I wished he could come even sooner, as a thin drizzle was beginning.
The woman in my arms was shivering now. I held her a little tighter. Looking towards the bridge railing, I could see where she'd slipped off her coat, leaving it in a heap on the ground. I debated trying to move close enough to pick it up, but I decided that unless the rain got harder, I wouldn't worry about it.
Headlights were approaching, and I prayed they were Jake's. I didn't want anyone else to see us here. It would be hard to explain why I was holding a sobbing woman on a bridge over a river at 3:30 a.m. without telling them the truth. And I didn't want to handle things that way.
But it was Jake, and he pulled up with the rear doors right next to us. I freed a hand, opened the latch, and was pushing her into the back seat, even before Jake had gotten out of the car.
"It's OK, Jake, I've got her. Let's head to the boat. Oh, and at the far side of the bridge, stop and throw my bike in the back. It's leaning against the railing."
Jake knows enough not to ask questions. He slipped back into the driver's seat, and I climbed in the back with the woman. She was in a stupor; I hoped she hadn't taken drugs as well, at least, not too many. I checked her pulse, and it seemed OK. I hit the button to turn on the reading light over her seat. Her pupils were responsive – I figured that was a good sign – but she was staring at me like she didn't even see me.
"Just let yourself sleep," I told her, as I turned off the light.
"Hold me?" I thought I heard from her, so I took her into my arms once more, and we rode the rest of the way to the boat in silence, except for what soon sounded like quiet snoring.
Once at the marina, I let Jake prepare the Jade Room for her while we sat in the car, and I ruminated on the night's activities.
I'd been out owling, knowing we were due to head out in the morning. Birding is my passion – well, one of my passions. And there aren't many owls at sea, so I was trying to find a few before we left, just because I like to see and hear them. I'd started at midnight, once it was fully dark and once the city had begun to quiet down. A pair of Great Horned Owls had been hooting in upper Discovery Park. From there, I'd bicycled across the Ballard Bridge and had made my way to Golden Gardens Park, where I'd heard a Western Screech-Owl. After that, I'd headed on up to Carkeek Park, hoping for a Barred Owl. It was on my way back that I'd taken a side trip along the bluffs and had started across the Brick St. Bridge.
I'd been riding without lights – it was late enough that there wasn't any traffic, and I wanted to keep my night vision. I was riding as quietly as I could, listening for any hoots, squeaks, or screeches of interest. One thing about birding is that it leads to a kind of hyperawareness of your surroundings. I spotted her immediately, and came to a quick, but silent, stop.
And I watched. I'm good at watching. Patience is essential for birdwatching, especially the way I like to do it. I prefer to watch birds when they don't know they're being watched. Failing that, I prefer at least to watch birds who don't feel threatened by my presence. Being accepted by a flock of birds gives me a magical feeling, though really it's not all that special. Birds will ignore a deer or elk too. If you move as if you're a wild animal on your own business, the birds will consider you as part of the scenery.
I left my bike and approached silently, in the casual sort of way that I've learned for birding. Just a few steps at a time. Subtle shifting of weight, such that heels and toes don't click. Slow movements of the arms and head. Lots of pauses. Indirect looks. Had someone been watching the scene, even they might not have realized that I was keeping an eye on the woman, or that I was trying to get close to her. My movements just didn't look purposeful.
When I got within about 20 feet of the woman, I stopped and listened. I could hear a quiet murmuring voice coming from her, though her lips were barely moving. There were a few 'Oh God's and a "that fucking bastard', and a 'serve him right', a halting 'Mamma', and lots of sniffles. Still muttering, she slipped off her coat and climbed onto the railing. And for a few seconds she stood there, her arms wrapped around herself, her head moving from side to side as if she were saying "no".
I moved then, like a cat getting into better position to pounce. Four silent strides brought me right behind the woman. I watched her knees, waiting for the weight shift that would precede the jump. I've watched countless hawks and herons perched in trees, and I've gotten very good at knowing when they are about to take wing. There's always a weight shift and a change of posture. When I saw it in the woman before me, my arms were there, wrapping around her and pulling her firmly down on the bridge side of the railing.
"Ahhh – No, let go of me, let gooooo!" The memory of her cry echoed through my head as I sat in the car, waiting for Jake.
I turned on the reading light again and looked at the woman. For all the time I'd spent watching her already that night, I hadn't had much of a look at her face.
Even in oddness of the light in the dark car, it was clear she was beautiful. And young – mid-twenties? And troubled. Beneath the tear-streaked makeup, I could see a bruise on one cheek. She'd bitten her lip hard enough to bleed. And there was still, even in sleep, a tension around her temples. She had shoulder-length brown hair, not particularly stylishly cut, little make-up, some slightly crooked teeth. But she had a natural attractiveness, and a kissable-looking mouth.
Two quick, quiet taps on the window indicated that Jake had come back. I motioned for him to open the door. Wishing for larger rear doors on the Explorer, I swiveled and twisted, and I managed to get my feet out and onto the ground. Jake took hold of my shoulders and helped me stand up. Holding her in my arms, I must have looked like a groom carrying his new bride as I made my way across the pier to the gangway and up onto the boat. Breathing heavily from the exertion, I almost wished I'd let the younger Jake carry her. Not that youth is everything; at forty-two I was in better shape than I'd been at twenty-five. Jake scooted past me to make sure the way was clear and that the door to the Jade Room was open. I slewed around the door frame, making sure I didn't hit either legs or head on the jamb as I entered.
I motioned to Jake that I just wanted to put her into the bed, so he pulled back the covers, then slipped off her shoes. With just a bit of awkwardness, I managed to deposit her on the clean, green sheets with her head on the pillow, and Jake tucked her in. My eyes lingered on her sleeping form, wondering whether I was making a mistake, then motioned Jake out of the room. Following him, I closed the door. The first hint of light was showing in the east.
"I'm going to start calling the crew. Change of plans. We're leaving at six. Go wake Tony and Sid," I told Jake as I headed to my room.
Once there, I looked longingly at my bed, where Moira was curled up asleep. There was no need to wake her, and though I desperately wanted to crawl in with her, I went to my desk instead. Turning on the nearly useless desk lamp, I found the two numbers I needed. I had to call Carol and Henri, the two crewmen who weren't onboard.
Carol wasn't happy to be woken at 04:30 with orders to be aboard in less than an hour.
"How am I supposed to get one last real Seattle soy latte that early," she cried in mock despair. OK, maybe not so mock.
"There's a 24-hour Tully's at First and Virginia," I told her. And I really am sorry to drag you out here early, but ... I'll make it up to you somehow."
"You'd better! OK, I'll be there. Good thing I said goodbye to Janey last night. See you in a bit. Bye". One down.
Henri wasn't quite as pleasant.
"Who-de-fuck is it at oh-goddamn-t'irty hours anyways," he growled after picking up the phone on the sixth ring.
"Sorry, Henri, it's Gary. Change of plans. I need you here now. We're shipping out at 6:00."
"Aw, Christ, Gary. I've only had 'bout two hours sleep. 'Chellie wanted bangin' all night long. I's goin' to be a crusty old shit if you make me come in early."
"You could bring her along, you know," I told Henri for about the thousandth time.
"I know, I know, but I ain't gonna ask, and she ain't gonna come. It wouldn't work anyways, don'cha know, because she don't like 'da sea. It's her own pissin' problem 'dat she fell in love wi'd a sailor.
Henri's Cajun wording always made me smile.
"Just get your ugly mug up here pronto," I told him.
"I hear ya, boss. Any change in destination?"
"Nope – we're still heading to Fiji."
"Hot Balls – I love 'dat Fiji. Best place, 'cept for N'Orleans, in 'da whole fuckin' world. I wouldn't miss it for all 'da pussy in Rio."
And a click at the other end of the line let me know he'd be aboard by 5:30 too.
I could hear Jake, Tony, and Sid getting the boat ready. They knew the routine. I set my alarm for 5:30, slipped out of my clothes, and was in bed with my arms around Moira, and asleep before I knew it. Even an hour's sleep can do wonders for a man.
An hour later, I was puzzling why I couldn't get the buzzer on the microwave to turn off. Looking through the glass, I could see the plate of lasagna, and it didn't look cooked yet anyway. I opened the door to the microwave, but the buzzing kept on. Figuring it must be the dishwasher making noise, I left the plate in the microwave and went and opened the dishwasher. This was making no sense. It was still buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, !
It was my alarm. My dream evaporated in a poof of despair. Shit, time to get up already.
"Gary, when d'you come to bed? I musta been asleep? Don't go, you just got here." Moira's sleepy voice was in my ear, but I was dragging myself out of bed. Once standing, I leaned over and gave her a kiss.
"No need for you to get up yet, Sweetie," I assured her.
"What time is it?" she mumbled.
"It's early. Go back to sleep." And she did.
A shower and clean clothes makes the man some mornings. This wasn't one of them. Even washed, I still felt "crusty", as Henri would say. Maybe Jake would have had the brains to get a fresh pot on by now.
On deck, I wasn't surprised to see that my crew was almost ready. Looking at my watch, I saw the minute hand creeping past the horizontal towards the vertical. About 5:45 a.m. Even the crows weren't up yet.
But, from the sounds of things, Carol had the engine up and running. I could see Henri topping the water tanks. Sid was closing hatches, raising flags, and all the other little things that needed doing before shoving off.
I climbed up to the bridge, where Tony was checking charts, a huge mug of fresh coffee in his hand.
"All set?" I asked Tony.
"We'll be ready, Admiral," was all he said. But I could tell what he was thinking. 'What's the hurry? It must have something to do with that woman in the Jade Room?'
"Any need to wake Ingrid or Lin?" I asked.
"Naw. Seattle's easy. I could do it in my sleep."
I didn't say anything, but instead headed down to the galley for some coffee. Jake was there, stowing the last few supplies, and generally getting things ship-shape.
I poured a cup and added some cream, letting Jake run the galley the way he wanted it. There was no point with interfering here – it would only lead to messed up meals later if he couldn't find something. The cook's assistant was a man to be reckoned with.
But as I left, one thought did press itself forward. "We have any of that seasickness medicine anywhere? That woman in the Jade Room might take a while to get her sea legs."
"Yeah – I already thought of that. It's stocked in the Jade Room head, actually. I figure the guest rooms are the best places for it," said Jake with a smile. That's the kind of thinking that got him hired.
I headed up to the bridge, where Tony was waiting.
"Six o'clock. We're ready when you give the word," he told me. I nodded back, and Tony gave the signal. Within minutes we were heading out of port. I checked with Tony one more time, then went down to my room. Even having had a cup of coffee, the call of the mattress was proving irresistible.
Moira let me sleep for four hours before she woke me with a blow-job. She always likes fresh juice in the morning. I think it's one reason why she usually chooses my bed. Tony and Jake don't have the patience or the time for morning blow-jobs.
I didn't really have the patience either that morning. I figured we were probably already out of Puget Sound, and I wanted to see what birds I could find in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Still, who am I to deny a lady.
Moira has a great mouth, and she's seldom demanding. She asks really nicely with her tongue and her lips. "Please come," they seem to say. She worked her lips up and down my sleepy cock until both it, and the rest of me, woke up. She poked her head out of the covers; she was crouched down between my legs. She smiled up at me and I smiled back.
"Good morning," she said with a cute smile before going back to my cock. She's so good that it really didn't take long before I was spurting and oozing come into her mouth. She sucked and licked every drop out of me, then she climbed up and nestled into a hug with me, her naked breasts pressed delightfully into my chest. She idly toyed with my shrunken dick, then tilted her head up for a kiss. Such a kinky girl.
After that, we showered together, but we didn't start anything in there. She knew I was impatient to get on deck. I left her in the shower starting her shampooing, while I got dried and dressed.
Minutes later I had a coffee in one hand and my binoculars in the other, having scarfed a muffin in record time in the galley. We were further than I thought – nearly out of the Strait and into open ocean. Tony had made good time. I could see Neah Bay not far ahead on our port side and Vancouver Island off to starboard.
Over the next couple of hours, we rounded Cape Flattery and passed Tatoosh Island, and headed out into the Pacific Ocean. Once out in open water, the wind picked up even more, and I went to my room to put on more clothes.
On the way, I stopped by the Jade Room. Knocking gently, I listened for a response. Hearing none, I carefully opened the door and peered in. She was still in bed. Slipping inside the room, I closed the door to keep the wind and the light out and crept over to the bedside.
I anxiously listened for sounds of her breathing – I really didn't want to have to dispose of a corpse at sea, particularly the corpse of someone I didn't know. And especially the corpse of someone I thought I'd saved. After a few tense seconds, I heard her take a slow, deep breath. The blankets moved up and down with the in and out of her breathing. Silently, I backed out of her room, leaving her undisturbed.
Soon I was back on deck, dressed for the weather, as we neared the continental shelf. There, eastward currents, reaching the suddenly shallower ocean bottom, create a zone of upwelling. The turbulent waters suck nutrients from the ocean floor towards the surface. Countless tiny organisms barely bigger than a pinhead feed on the riches, and krill feed on the tiny organisms. Fish feed on both, and that draws bigger fish to this frenzy. Finally, the birds come, to dive into the waters to catch the fish, or to wheel across the surface looking to snatch up squids, fish, whatever they can find.
I thrilled as always to see albatrosses, shearwaters, storm-petrels, and fulmars feeding here. In the air, albatrosses are so elegant, with their impossibly long wings, heavy bodies, and large bills. When they land on the water to feed though, they look ungainly - 'goony birds' - reminding me of Thanksgiving turkeys.
Once beyond the continental shelf, the ocean changed color, and the real journey began.