A New Life
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Petting,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Jenni is a runaway teenager who is rescued (and effectively adopted) by Dave. Both are healed of past hurts by their developing relationship, and both find love.
It was by now well into April. The moon was waning. High water Dover was about 0600 (GMT, add an hour for Summer Time.) So at Lowestoft High water would be about 0845 BST, neap tides. (Do I need to explain? Ok. If you know, then skip the next bit). When the moon and sun are in line over an area, they work together to cause a greater variation in the water level — higher high tides and lower low tides; "spring" tides. When they are not in line over an area, the effect is less and the tides are said to be "neaps". When the High tide is about midday, then sun and moon are in line and you have spring tides and vice versa when the high tide is about 0600/1800. At least on the East Anglian Coast. I wanted to cross the bar at the Deben on a rising tide, between half tide and high water. Preferably in daylight. High water at Felixstowe Ferry would be about 0720/1950 BST, So I needed to be crossing the bar between about 1650 and 1950. Any time after that and I'd be fighting the ebb. Currents in the Deben run up to almost 5 knots, though in neaps it's less. Hope you're following, because I'm feeling a bit confused myself.
Anyway, we left Lowestoft under power at 0500. A depression somewhere between Iceland and Norway was giving us a Force 5-6 Westerly. That was fine for the passage south, though perhaps not for the entrance to the Deben, but I'd worry about that later. More to the point was a front sweeping round that I confidently expected would give us a thorough wetting sooner or later. Preferably sooner, as long as it cleared off so we could see where we were going when we got among the shoals. I tucked down a reef in the main as a precaution and we both donned waterproofs and boots. As it happens, the rain hit just as we turned south along with an increase in the wind to force 6-7. Eirene isn't particularly fast, but we were logging nearly 8knots. I didn't want to get there early and hang around outside, and Eirene was getting hard work to manage. The time to reef is when you first think of it. I had, but I should have thought of something more radical than one reef. Jenni was doing pretty well at the wheel; I explained what I was about to do, went forward to the main wearing harness, clipped on, and lowered the main when Jenni luffed. It was a real fight in that wind and with the rain driven into every nook and cranny, but at last it was done, our speed was down to around four knots, and steering was much easier.
We reached the North Shipwash at just after 1400, the Cutler a couple of hours after that. The depression was moving east, which meant the wind veered to west-nor'-west, so we were close-hauled, but we couldn't quite lay the haven buoy. I started the motor, furled the foresail, lowered the mizzen, and entered the Deben under power at just on 1700.
Sorry, but I need to get a bit technical again for the next bit. The tide was rising — "flooding" — and pouring over the shallows at the mouth of the river, so the surface of the water was very choppy. Unfortunately, the wind was moving in the opposite direction. Wind against tide over shallow water means a very unpleasant time in a small boat. Make no mistake. Eirene is no sailing dinghy, but at 40' long she is definitely a small craft. It was very lumpy and uncomfortable. I've said before, I'm no seaman, and with Jenni back on the wheel at that point, had little to distract me. So I was sick. Very sick. I did, however, need to be alert enough to pilot Jenni up river. The worst only lasted about half an hour, then we were in the river and heading for our mooring, which we reached just after 1800. I stowed the sails, though they'd have to be aired out the next day, and we were home. We heated soup and put a tinned steak and kidney pie in the oven, put one of Classic Fm's relaxing music cds on, and relaxed. Jenni snuggled against me. All was right with the world.
Someone once described the "three note interrogative" as used by a teenage girl. Do you know what I mean? You know instantly you're going to be asked something which in all probability you don't want to hear.
"Do you love me?"
Oh, Lord help me. I knew I couldn't duck this one but I didn't really want this discussion at the end of twelve hours hard sailing.
"Jenni, yes, I love you. You are probably the most important person in my world right now."
"I love you too, Dave. I'm not in love with you, but you're special to me. I'd really like you to make love to me, you know. When we first met, I wanted to, well, have sex with you because I thought that might give me a hold over you. But when you didn't, when you just accepted me and looked after me and loved me, you actually bound me to you. I really like sleeping with you. I feel safe, and warm and loved. But I know you're not for me, not that way for the future. I think there's someone you are meant for, who is meant for you. But I really would still like you to make love to me. And it'd be making love, not having sex."
"And do you have someone in mind to be my soul-mate, young lady?"
She giggled. "I like that. 'Young lady'! Yes and no. I think I know someone who might be, but I won't say who because that could mess things up. Besides, right now, I want you for me."
As we snuggled together that night, I chewed over what she'd said. Would it be so terrible to give her what she wanted? Was I still so damaged I was afraid of failure? I was very unsure. No, it would not be so terrible; I was very attracted to her; I was not afraid of her. But ... consequences. What would they be?
Next morning, bright and early, I was on deck hoisting the sails. The front had passed and only a light westerly wind remained. The sails slatted a bit. Jenni appeared on deck in jeans and a jumper that covered but did not conceal her figure.
"Can we go to the café for coffee this morning? I want to talk to Donna."
"If you help me do a harbour stow, in an hour or so when the sails are dry, yes."
"That's a deal. You know, I never took my G.C.S.E.s." (I didn't know, but I'd assumed) "and Donna is going to Ipswich College in September to do 'A' levels." "Sounds like a plan!"
Ever been set up? Jenni hadn't actually told any lies, but when we arrived at the café the second face that caught my eye (after Donna) was Jessica. I collected coffee and a bun from the counter and sat down with her. Jenni went off with Donna. "It's good to see you," I said, inadequately. "I ... wanted to see you," she replied. "Jenni said it might take a little manipulation." "The minx! How long has she been talking to you?" "I think I was the first person she called when you got her that mobile." "I'd been trying to think of an excuse to contact you..." "You don't need an excuse, don't you realise?"
There was a long pause, not uncomfortable, while I considered that. "You've got me on the back foot, here. Did you have something in mind?" "Absolutely" she beamed, and produced a safety helmet from under the table. "I want a ride on that motorbike of yours. Borrowed this from Donna."
Jenni said she wanted to take Donna out to Eirene, I needed my Barbour oversuit — and a spare for Jessica. Jenni took the tender, and Donna, out to Eirene and I fetched the Norton. Jessica looked impressed. "How old is it?" "Over forty years. But it's been rebuilt and the motor is younger. The old ones have a 6 volt generator for the lights, which aren't much good. This one has a 12 volt alternator. Originally, it was supposed to have a top speed of 88m.p.h., but the motor's been breathed on." "Meaning?" "Meaning it's got a sports camshaft, higher compression pistons and polished ports, and twin carburettors instead of the original one. It's capable of just on the ton with a tail wind. But not two up!"