Chapter 18

Josh’s turn:

One thing about spending the night at the marina – we didn’t need an alarm clock. We were awakened by the sounds of a couple of harbor tugs pushing a ship against the dock across the ship channel from us.

Not that waking up early is a bad thing. I mean, I roll over and there’s a soft, feminine form in bed with me. As gently as I can, I slide up behind her, spooning, putting my arm around her.

Her hand grasps mine lightly, guides it to a firm breast, and she wiggles back against me.

“Those tugs almost sound like distant thunder,” she said softly, wiggling back some more. “Lovely sound.”

I pushed my nose into the tousled hair in front of me, breathed deeply.

“I can feel your heartbeat, Josh.”

“I feel your breathing.”

“Mmmmm. I love you, you know.”

Reveries relying on diesel tugboats are not the most reliable of things. When they disengaged from their task, they signaled by blatts from very powerful air horns.

“I guess that’s a sign,” she said.

“Yeah...” I wiggled morning wood into delightful contact. “Or not...”

“Come on, cap’n. You KNOW we’ll have time out on the waterway...”

The two of us have the morning routine, several of ‘em, actually, down pat. This one is the ‘we want to have a full day’s trip for a goal’ routine. Faces washed, teeth brushed, dressed with clothes suitable for motoring through civilization, she’s doing breakfast for us while I’m giving the little diesel its daily attention.

In the windless early morning, leaving the marina is as simple as pulling in the mooring lines while the engine popped its purposeful idling sounds, warming up. Lines stowed, I went into the cabin’s conn station, put the engine in forward and we eased out of the slip, turned towards the marina’s opening into the ship channel, and we were off.

One other live-aboard, an old retiree on his old fiberglass cruiser, was awake and about to wave back at us as we eased past. In the channel in the early morning the water was almost glasslike, toned here and there by patches of ripples as tiny cat’s paws of breeze made themselves felt. Our wake formed Vs, pointing to the next little set of adventures, where ‘adventure’ was more likely to be a photo opportunity or a stream beckoning for exploration than it was to be fighting off pirates. That was perfectly acceptable adventure. As soon as we finished breakfast, we moved up to the hurricane deck, steering from the raised vantage, able to better see the surroundings.

Gee still waves at the workers on the industrial docks along the channel. Some of them wave back, to her delight. What’s not to wave at? Pretty girl on a little boat passing by, big ol’ cat perched on his vantage on the control panel, making sure we have things under control. He’ll tire soon and find one of many favorite napping spots.

We continue south until the ship channel intersects with the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway, and this time we turn west. Soon it’s just us cruising through the marshes and low-lying prairies of south Louisiana, a single tow visible a couple of miles ahead of us.

Privacy.

Giggle. “Remember right before we got out of bed this morning?” she smiled.

“Uh, yeah...” I grinned.

“Me first,” she said, leaning back against me, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down.

You only need one hand to steer this thing.

That towboat ahead, we’re overtaking him, getting close while she’s pulling her jeans up, shaking that auburn hair, making it incandescent in the sun.

“You. Josh, you GET me soooo good...”

“I get you right here with me, Gee. I love my life with you.”

“I love it, too. I’m glad that Dad brought the subject up. I kinda figured he would. I want us out here.”

Another half-hour and I throttled Dorable back to match the speed of the towboat ahead of me, and picked up the mike for the radio. “Earl Leger, this is the Dorable, right behind you.”

“Go ahead, Cap’n. Whatcha got in mind?”

“We’d like to pass. Your preference?”

“Your green to my red, there, Cap’n. I can ease over a little bit.”

“Thank you, Cap’n,” I said. “We ain’t fast, but I can get faster’n this.”

“Roger that.”

I noted that the towboat ahead shifted towards the right bank, letting me pass on his left – that’s my green side – to his red side. The little Saab diesel picked up its pace noticeably. We could almost feel the surge of power as all eighteen horses woke up.

Beating the towboat’s speed by maybe two knots meant that passing him and the two barges he was pushing was a slow process, but as we passed his wheelhouse, we waved, Gee doffing her sunhat to let her red hair add to the effect.

Soon the traffic was diminishing in our wake. We could see another ahead, oncoming. Not a problem.

“You,” Gee said, “Turn sideways.”

I know what this means. I comply. I keep one hand on the wheel as the other helps her with my belt. In a second, I feel fresh air on my dick.

“Raise up. Let me get ‘em down.”

“Oh,” I said, “the deluxe treatment.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” she grinned as she tugged my pants down a bit, exposing me completely.

I have come (oops! That’s an interesting choice of words) to really enjoy outdoor sex since Gee joined me in life. I’m a real connoisseur of sunlit blowjobs. Gee’s good at it – enthusiastic, skilled, her eyes, her smiles, her muffled giggles getting to me in ways I never imagined.