Constance, Wendolyn & Company - Cover

Constance, Wendolyn & Company

Copyright© 2013 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 26

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 26 - Junior is turned 14, Connie is turned 16. They have watches. Everybody duck.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Magic   Fiction   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Humor   Mother   Sister   Father   Daughter   InLaws   Orgy   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Petting   Double Penetration   Slow   Nudism  

They discussed the adventure around the west and south of the continent as a way to get to Sydney.

"25 days minimum, mate. That's sailing inside ... outside? with the Southern Ocean? Well you're big enough ... but I wouldn't do it. I did it on a fifty ... we made it ... you've seen the vids ... I wouldn't do it again ... it's terrible down there. You're never out of the wet ... places you never thought would leak ... do. You'll have to buy an independent bilge pump. Original equipment won't keep up.

"North side? There's lots of reefs ... either north to Bramble Cay or a little south to Raine Island. Either way you have Osprey, Bougainville reefs etc. You will have to tack a long way towards the Chesterfields. This is also the shipping route so the floating steel islands will be all around (often poorly lit and doing illogical things)

"I would always recommend to go inside the Reef. You can tack east to the reefs, south or a little SW towards the shallow stuff and always find a 'hole' if the weather gets too bad. Ships are still in the channel, but you don't always need to be there. The swells are not present, just the wind raised sea state ... How would I do it ... my choice? Tokyo or Houston. You've got water makers ... I'd just go back the way you came. Or just sit here and fly the parts and tech support here ... hell, have them ship you a new one ... it might not be cheaper ... but you can talk to the gaffer ... he was in it ... lots of friends were in it.

"Let me call him."

"Gramps?"

"Bill."

"Your grandson."

"Yes."

"No, I don't need money."

"I know ... I don't call often enough."

" ... I never see him either."

"He moved."

"Alice Springs."

"Married a rich widow."

"He's your son."

"And my father ... or so mother says."

"Listen ... I've got an historian here."

"From the States. Hold on."

Andrea had been waving. She said, "We're not from the States ... we're from the Princessapality. Beth is my Auntie."

"You heard?"

He turned to Andrea, "I suppose you're some kind of royalty?"

"Yes ... but I didn't know it."

"Give me the whole shot, please."

"Hold on, Gramps."

"Her Royal Highness, Andrea, Princess Slagle Most Excellent, Koenigsknecht, Dame of the Realm of Rákóczi-Hapsburg. Lady Slagle. Now Austin." She whispered it. "That's only part of it ... the Princess Slagle is Polish ... but German through the line ... does that make sense?

"There's more ... Professor Andrea Koenigsknecht-Slagle-Austin, Ph.D ... on sabbatical."

"Gramps? She's the real deal, in the line."

He put his hand over the mouthpiece.

"He wants to know what place in the line."

"Twenty-sixth."

"Twenty-sixth, gramps."

"No ... not much chance ... but still."

"You'll talk to her?"

"Here." He handed the phone to Andrea.

"Hello?" she said.

"Please ... don't call me that, I put my knickers on one leg at a time. Andie, Andy, Andrea ... any of those will do."

"Yes, Bloody Knuckles."

"You have the series?"

"I'll autograph them if you'll show me around."

"I want to know the war from the 'other ranks' side of the story."

"The places here in Australia where you trained and where you fought."

"Yes ... all your friends ... I'll bring beer."

"Thank you."

"Bill will bring me ... and my people."

"The crew, my husband, and his relatives ... oh ... the heir to the Princessapality."

"Almost 15? I think."

" ... red."

" ... blue."

" ... very cute."

"Good bye."

"Bill, you have a job."

"I do?"

"I've lost almost all of my crew and that's a big boat. Second mate? Forty thousand a year?"

"Fifty."

"Done. Take me to a brewery ... we need MUCH beer ... and not Fosters."

"There isn't one. If you don't want beer from the big boys ... you have to brew it yourself."

"You're kidding."

"No."

"David? What do we have?"

"You have a brewery on your boat?" asked Bll.

"How big is it, David?"

"Hundred fifty," confessed David.

"Hundred fifty what?"

"Gallons."

"I've died and gone to heaven."

"It's pretty good beer ... it's mostly ale."

"Ale works."

"Some lager ... I'm looking to put in a cold room at the very stern," David said. "Where the bomb was."

"You can only have half ... the rest is armory."

"Armory? I noticed some odd bumps."

"Gun emplacements." Andrea confirmed.

"That might cause problems ... civilians can't own guns ... foreigners included."

"Drat ... I forgot. We're the Nevis and St. Kitts Navy."

"You're military?"

"Yeppers."

"Rank?"

"Lessee ... We have a Navy Chief ... that's Felix Sanchez. He's our resident CIA spy. David is an actual Captain..." she trailed off.

"And you?"

David laughed, "She's Admiral of the Fleet."

Andrea confessed, "Yes ... but you have to know ... the Pretty Penny IS the fleet."

David said, "There are a few coastal patrol boats ... but they're not Navy. Coast Guard ... but more than that." He bent over and quietly admitted, "We're the only white officers in the entire military establishment. It's very embarrassing."

"Pull the other one."

"Seriously Bill ... we're diplomats. The Pretty Penny is our embassy ... Sitting in the harbor is one hundred seventy-five feet of the Federation of Nevis and St. Kitts ... part of the commonwealth ... of which Australia is a member."

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