Comfortably Numb Adventures: Company With A Purpose free porn video

My name is Fred. Captain Fred sounds nice to me. I’m not actually a Captain, just a captain. I live on my sailboat, named ‘Comfortably Numb’, my retirement home in the Aegean Sea. Other stories in this series contain enough biographical information, so I won’t bore you again.

Occasionally I place a classified ad hoping for paying charter guests. My normal motivation is that I want to buy something totally frivolous and unnecessary, usually some sort of electronic gadget – a UHD TV comes to mind. So far I’ve been pretty lucky; none of the half-dozen charters that I’ve hosted have been people that I would have wanted to drop off in mid-sea. Having arrogant, demanding guests that expect me to wait on them would probably be good to teach me some much-needed humility, but so far I’ve been lucky.

Recently I received an email query from a couple about a week’s charter. I was surprised, as I hadn’t placed an ad. It got me thinking about that UHD TV, though. The letter was signed 'Mandy and Bob Rogers'. They specified that they wanted to be somewhere where there would not be big winds or rough seas. That’s a bit of a tall order in the Aegean in the summer. The northerly Meltemi winds blow hard for periods from two to six days - usually several six day contiguous periods. Going downwind, south, is usually no problem, most people think it’s euphoric, but upwind is pure torture in anything smaller than the QE2. Well, I don’t like it, anyway.

I had planned to meet a friend on the island of Samos around their cruise date, so I suggested a cruise south from Samos to Kos and gave them my standard song and dance about the islands along the way. I’ve done this many times before and I like that island string a lot - Patmos, Arki and several others. Previous guests have always enjoyed that itinerary as well. I referred them to my web site where they would find more information about destinations, contact information and my bio.

A few days later I got a call from a woman who said her name was Mandy, and said that she had asked about a charter. She sounded very pleasant. This would be the first time that they would be on a sailboat and she wanted to be sure that they would be comfortable with me. Sounded reasonable. Some people see my picture on my web site and assume that I’m just another harmless romantic on a sailboat in paradise. Works for me.

But Mandy was much more thorough than that. First, she wanted to be sure that she would not be spending time hanging over the rail feeding her last meal to the fish. I assured her that that would not be happening. (I didn’t tell her that it was because there are no more fish in the Aegean.) Then she started to ask personal questions - my education, what I used to do for work, etc. She said that was to confirm she and Bob would have subjects that we could talk about.

I used to run the IT department at a large corporation. I’m reasonably over-educated and I try not to be too overbearingly pompous. Sometimes it works. My political views are very different from when I was a corporate manager. But now nobody cares about that. Normally it’s more interesting that I can fillet a fish. Or it would be if I knew how to fillet a fish – I can’t. Fish laugh when I cast my line.

Anyway, at the end of our conversation I felt as though I had been on a job interview. I asked Mandy, “Well, Mandy, did I pass the interview, will you hire me?”

“From everything you’ve said, I think we are a perfect match. Yes, you are hired.”

The cruise was scheduled for the beginning of July, in two months. I told her I would send her all the information and would help them make flight reservations, if they wanted. She assured me that they would be fine.

I brought Comfortably Numb up to Samos early to spend time with an old friend who had also bought a floating retirement home. I had been around the southern Dodecanese Island of Symi and, to avoid getting hammered by the Meltemi wind, I would weigh anchor at first light before the wind came up and make shorts runs north.

The Rogers’ flight arrived late in the evening, and we had made arrangements that on the first day we would just tour Samos to allow them to get over jet lag. They came from North Dakota in three legs and would be tired. I rented a car late in the day and drove to the airport to meet my guests, planning on spending the following day driving them around the island until I had to return the car twenty-four hours later.

I figured that they would recognize me from the picture on the web site. There aren’t that many tall, white-haired men – people sometimes ask me what brand of hair color I use – waiting at the gate. A woman whom I guessed to be in her mid-thirties walked up to me and asked, “You must be Captain Fred?”

I recognized the voice as Mandy’s and replied in the affirmative.

“Is your husband hung up in customs?”

“No,” she said, “Bob couldn’t come. It’s a long story. I hope you won’t mind taking just me; I assume that the cost is the same, one or two people.”

I was a little surprised that Bob didn’t have a problem letting his attractive and, from our phone conversation, intelligent wife pack it in from Bismarck to Samos, Greece, to spend a week with a man of questionable morals on a sailboat in the hot sun in terminally cute places. Begs for infidelity. I didn’t bring it up.

“It’s not a problem at all. I rarely get lady guests, and it will be a pleasure to have you aboard.”

I asked her about any prior boating experience. She had none. Why would a woman from North Dakota, who had never been on a boat and never traveled outside the US, want to spend a week on a boat with a man? She seemed nice enough, the week was pre-paid, so no problem for me.

When we got back to the boat she said that she was totally wiped out, and could she sleep late? I said that I would not expect anything else. The quay at Samos is not the most quiet place to tie up. Directly behind the stone quay where boats ‘Med-moor’ is a narrow road leading to nowhere, and on the other side the traditional row of Greek tavernas. Unlike in Turkey, in Greece such establishments don’t try to outdo each other playing loud, tacky music. Mandy said she would have no trouble sleeping through the noise and soon crashed.

She didn’t wake up until after eleven the following morning. The sun had already been baking the island, but the ever-present breeze helped keep it reasonable. When I heard her stir, I went out and picked up a couple of cappuccinos and sweet rolls at one of the coffee shops near the quay. We sat in the cockpit drinking our coffee and watching the people walk by. The people were watching us watching them. We talked about boats, and she obviously had read up on the subject even if she had no experience. She said that she would want to be able to handle this boat at the end of our week. I said that that would be no problem.

She was obviously not used to roughing it in warm climates. The boat outfits that I had suggested; shorts, simple tops and bathing suits, were not part of her North Dakota wardrobe. She said that she had had to spend some time shopping and she hoped her outfits were appropriate. I said, “Mandy, whatever you decide to wear is appropriate – just be sure that whatever you wear on your feet has rubber soles. Better yet, go barefoot.”

Some women can make an expression that says "Wait till you see what’s next." Mandy did just that - or at least that’s what I read into her sort of smirk.

We drove around the island of the Greek mathematician Pythagoras. When we got back to the main town, I bought her a Pythagoras t-shirt with a graphic of his theory, you remember: a2 + b2 = c2. She seemed happy. She was definitely not a t-shirt girl, more a Gucci woman. I like t-shirt girls, but paying guest Gucci women are even better. We had dinner at one of the tavernas. I never cook dinner for guests, they live longer that way. She was a great conversationalist and I enjoyed her company and she, I thought, mine.

She told me about her life, how she and Bob had been married for five years. He was a patent attorney and she was now a middle manager in a pharmaceutical firm. She had started in the marketing department as a cost accountant and, after getting her MBA, rose rapidly in the ranks. She and Bob had met at work when her company was seeking a patent on a new product. They had a nice house in the suburbs; he played golf every weekend; she played tennis, and they both regularly visited a health club. So exactly the kind of life I was escaping from. When the subject turned to children - neither she nor I have any - she seemed to close up and I sensed that it was a taboo subject. She and Bob had decided that they needed some time totally away from the everyday and one of her girlfriends had suggested a cruise. She told me that her friend, who had done a charter with me a few years back and had very much enjoyed it, had suggested me. She named my benefactors and I remembered having had them aboard. I made a mental note to send them a thank-you note. The best references are word of mouth.

The following day we left the lovely port of Pythagorion for an anchorage on the south side of the island of Agathonisi. The Meltemi had picked up and it would be a pretty boisterous downwind run. This first day would be the hardest; after that, short hops with relatively calm seas. She said that she was ready for a new experience, that she had regretted asking for calm conditions. I told her that I’d sort of lied, but downwind should be okay for her. And this was a great sea boat. She said she had read up on my boat, and that had helped convince her that it would be okay.

It was around eighteen miles and I figured we’d do it in less than three hours. Hopefully if she had a tendency to mal-de-mer, it would take a while to develop. I told her that the first thing she would need to do is learn to steer the boat. She hand-steered for the first hour. I always ask any crew that are a seasickness risk to steer the boat. It requires the person to look at the horizon and keeps their mind focused on something other than how miserable they feel. I was taking no chances with Mandy. I carry seasickness pills, but they either do nothing or make the person so drowsy that they have no clue of what’s going on.

Mandy was a bit intimidated at first. Comfortably Numb is a relatively light forty-four foot sailboat, but with the big genoa pulling and the rushing of the big seas breaking at the stern, it can get intimidating. She was determined to do well, and after a while seemed to enjoy how the boat surfed on the big overtaking seas.

We made the island by 1400, before the stronger afternoon winds came up. We motored into the SE anchorage. We were the only boat – no surprise.

I dropped the anchor in eight meters of water over a sandy bottom in the small cove of Palos and shut everything down after the anchor was securely set.

“Do people here sunbathe topless?” Mandy asked from inside the boat.

“People on my boat do whatever they want. Do you see an audience?” I replied, hoping she wouldn’t name me.

She came up the companionway stark naked. My brain and heart stalled momentarily. Part of me is still in my prepubescence; I stare at breasts. Just can’t help it. I did also notice that except for the bikini wax, her bush was ample. I prefer a bald pussy, but it is what it is. I didn’t expect to see any tattoos or piercings and there were none. I’m fine with small discreet tattoos, I think big in-your-face tattoos are tacky. Piercings, other than earlobes, are a major turnoff. I cannot understand why a person would do that, especially in sensitive areas. Makes me cringe. Probably my old age.

“Okay, what are you looking at?” she sounded a bit self conscious. I mentally gave myself a firm kick in the butt.

“At the loveliest sight on this boat in a long time,” I tried to make up for the brain-stall.

“Bullshit, Fred, but I like it anyway. I am not used to walking around in my altogether, so you have to act a little more nonchalantly. In fact, I have a better idea.”

“What will your husband say if you came home with an all-over tan?”

“He’s expecting it.”

“You’re joking? He expects you to be naked with a very untrustworthy older person of the male persuasion?”

“Of course not, silly. He has no idea I’m here.”

“Uh... Bob doesn’t know you’re with me?”

“Not a clue. I said I was going to a sun, fun and fitness luxury spa in Arizona.”

“What if he tries to call you?”

“My phone works here, I have an all-band smart phone. But I told him not to call me, that I would call him. It’s nine hours later here than in Bismark and that might lead to middle of the night calls if he called after work,” she said confidently.

“Is there more to this story?” I asked.

“There is.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Eventually. Maybe,” she said.

“Wow!” Sometimes I get very articulate.

“Stop changing the subject, I told you I had a better idea,” she said.

I love a mystery. “And that would be?” I asked.

She said, “Give me one reason why I should be the only one sans clothes?”

“Cause you’re a married woman and I’m a lecherous old man who might try to take advantage of a scared, vulnerable woman.”

“So far no reason. I don’t see any scared or vulnerable women. The lecherous bit’s not bad. Work on that,” she smiled and stretched out on a beach towel, adding, “I’ll look the other way, I’m sure you’re a modest man.”

She had, until then, given me no reason to doubt her honorable intentions; no fuck-me pumps, no high exposure clothing, no solicitous ‘accidental’ contact, no talk about sex. But of course the naked appearance had an almost immediate effect, and now the evidence was, uh, mounting.

I took my t-shirt off. She looked amused.

“Hesitation is for cowards, keep going.”

I pulled my shorts down. Surprise! A hard-on.

She said, "Thank you!”

“For what?”

“For sporting that serious woody; I started to think you didn’t like me.”

“Mandy, you hired me to take you on a cruise. You are obviously a woman of class - and don’t you think it would be inappropriate and highly presumptuous of me to act as anything but your guide? And yes, I find you very desirable.”

“You really are a bullshit artist. I have an MBA just like you. I have a responsible job at a Fortune 500 company where there are over fifty names under mine on the organization chart. Do you really think that I can’t take care of myself?”

“So, Mandy, what’s on your mind?”

“I think we should do something about that condition of yours. I couldn’t relax in the sun while you were stressed.”

She came over and straddled my lap. Her firm breasts, pointed at my chest, demanded attention. I cupped each and gently squeezed. She purred softly and kissed me tenderly. “Much better,” she said.

Her hands grabbed my balls and played with them. I kissed her nipples. They were nice and hard now. I flicked my tongue over each.

She got up and reversed her position. Her back was to me. I reached around her and pulled her to me by her breasts. I can’t resist squeezable breasts and firm nipples. She now reached for my cock and rubbed it against her pussy. She wet her finger and rubbed in on the bottom of the head of my cock. Then she pushed her pussy lips apart with my cock and rubbed it back and forth against her opening, slowly and methodically. I made some encouraging sounds.

“What do you think so far?” she asked.

“I think I am about to fuck a beautiful woman.”

“That’s a roger, Captain Fred,” she joked and gave my pole a few strokes.

Somewhere in the windup to the good part of the excitement, I bring up the issue of safe sex. The era of fear of communicable diseases seems to have passed, at least among the ladies that it has been my pleasure to be intimate with, but I still offer to use a condom though I admittedly find the things revolting. I mean, how do you gracefully switch from a mind-shattering blow job to a deliciously titillating fuck if you have to stop and reload? It just dampens the mood.

Mandy had laughed when I brought up the subject, said she knew all about me and that she wasn’t a teenager any more, so that I shouldn’t even think about it. I didn’t really understand either of her reasons, but since she had given the right answer I didn’t dwell on it any more.

She leaned back and said, "Lie down.”

I lay on the settee; she was still straddling my waist facing away from me. She slid back so her pussy was over my face and she leaned forward and slowly slid her lips over my dick, flicking her tongue all the while until she had the whole thing down her throat. I was mesmerized.

She made a loud moan that I correctly interpreted as an invitation to make a contribution to the procedures. I reached forward and squeezed her breasts and my tongue started to lick around her pussy. Then I buried my face in her muff and got as deep as I could into her sopping pussy. She was slowly moving up and down on my cock, and I would move my hips up as if to get her to take in more. I gently sucked and licked her clit, then licked the edges of her pussy. I seem to meet prodigiously flowing women; the seat cushions once again would require serious cleaning.

I wasn’t going to last too long, especially since this was the first time with Mandy. She sensed that I was near my threshold. She got up, turned around and lowered herself onto my cock. I instinctively thrust up, but in this position she controlled the action and she was clearly not ready for me to cum. She slowly ground her warm cunt around on my dick, not letting me move up and down.

I reached up and squeezed her beautiful breasts and rolled her nipples between my fingers. She liked that, and I continued working on her nipples. Meanwhile she kept moving her very warm pussy sideways and back and forth, causing friction on her clit. She leaned forward and lay on top of me.

“Time for the last act, dear Fred,” she whispered and rolled over. In a relatively small boat it requires a certain amount of athleticism, but she got me on top of her.

“My pussy is craving for some deep company. Why don’t you put that big thing of yours in and let’s relieve some tension. I haven’t been fucked really well in a long, long time. I want to feel your cum heating me up deep inside.”

I easily slid into her very slippery pussy and slowly moved in and out. She reached forward and rubbed her clit.

“Go slowly, Fred. Make that cock a piston, slide up and down. Can you feel my pussy squeezing your cock? I guess you can.” I had moaned when she contracted her cunt and increased the pressure on my rapidly dwindling will power. She kept squeezing. I couldn’t figure out how she could do that. I had never met a woman who could apply so much power.

“Are you close yet?” she asked.

I grunted. Sometimes words are elusive.

She sucked my earlobe and whispered in my ear, “I’m almost there, I want you to try to cum just after I do. Shoot your spunk into me. Deep. Deep and warm,” she whispered in a low, seductive voice. The seduction part was, of course, long past necessary.

“You’d better cum now, Mandy. Cum for me, cum now,” I said, increasing my thrusts as I started to lose control.

She issued a deep moan, then a louder moan and started to move her hips rapidly.

“Ohhhh, here it comes. Hold it as long as you can, Fred. Ohh.. fuck me harder, fuck me. I love that cock of yours.”

I shuddered trying to hold back as I wanted her to climax as long as possible. Her voice kept going up and I knew she hadn’t peaked yet. She grabbed my ass and pulled me against her, heaving her hips. My cock was totally buried into her deliciously hot pussy. I couldn’t hold it any longer and I felt my balls contracting as my cum flowed deep inside her. She could feel my climax and got off with me. Cumming with your partner is definitely one of life’s finer moments.

“Move slowly, Mandy, and squeeze my cock, draw all my juice,” I moaned.

“Keep moving at whatever speed you can that feels good. I’d love to be fucked for a while longer. This is just sooo good.”

She stroked my hair and put her tongue in my ear while whispering sweet nothings. She reached down and very gently played with my balls, saying how good they felt and how much she loved being with me. I held her tight.

We eventually got up and went for a swim. This bay has crystal clear water and you can see the bottom clearly. I snorkeled over the anchor to be sure it was well set in a patch of sand and we enjoyed a drink as the sun lowered over the cliffs in the west.

The island’s main (and only) town has a restaurant that makes a renowned fish soup that you have to order in the morning. Mama then goes to the fisherman, buys what she needs and in the evening there’s a meal that’s worth the journey. I had called before we left Samos and our table would be waiting at 1900. Its a two-and-a-half mile dinghy ride around the point to the main harbor. My dinghy has a fifteen-hp outboard and, when conditions are calm as they were now, it would take less than ten minutes and we would stay mostly dry.

Mandy went down to change and came back up in a stunning tie-dyed light dress that showed a lot of cleavage and, as she was not wearing a bra, silhouetted her hard nipples. “Nice dress!” I said, “Maybe we should take a few minutes before we leave to...”

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” she laughed.

“That, my dear Mandy, in the immortal words of George Bernard Shaw, we have already established. The question is, how often?”

“Later, maybe. Now I’m starved. Get this dinghy fired up and let’s eat. You've raised my expectations.”

“Aye, aye, admiral.”

I gave her a huge plastic bag with a hole for her head to slip over her outfit to prevent her from getting sprayed.

“Really?” she said, “it’s come to this, I’m garbage?”

“It’s all part of the adventure,” I said, slipping the bag over her head from behind. I couldn’t resist stopping mid-way and giving her breasts some attention. I popped each out of the dress and kneaded them gently, pinching her nipples.

“You have absolutely delicious breasts, I can’t resist.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls. Now stop that and put them back where they belong. No, not in your hands, you pervert!”

Maria Stephanos was the matron of Stephanos Restaurant. I had been going there for years and she greeted me like a long-lost son. She spoke no English and, despite having been in Greece for ten years, I almost no Greek. Her grandson translated and told me that his grandmother approved of my companion and hoped that I had finally found a good woman to give me offspring. Greek women often marry older men. Good country, Greece.

We had wonderful fish soup, really fish stew, watching a few late arrival boats and several fishermen in their little blue and white boats leave. During the Ottoman period the Greeks were not allowed to display their national flag, so they painted their boats and houses blue and white instead.

We got back to the boat just before dark, but as the hills on the east side of the anchorage were still glowing pink and yellow from the setting sun. The effect was magic. The beauty of the area always awed me and Mandy felt it also. I offered her some ouzo, the Greek anise drink. She asked that I mix it with water. I don’t really like it, but I had run out of Bailey’s and forgot to buy some in Samos.

“Tell me about your husband,” I said as she reclined against me on the settee.

“He’s a wonderful man, older than I am. I probably married him as sort of a father figure. Do you want to see a picture?”

“Sure,” I said.

She reached for her phone on the cockpit table and produced a photo. I looked at it and recoiled a little.

“Is it my impression...?” I asked.

“It’s not,” she said.

“He looks just like me!”

“He does.”

“Is this a coincidence?” I asked. I don’t believe in coincidences.

“No, it’s not.”

“Are you going to elaborate?” I asked.

“No, I’m not. You figure it out,” she said.

“Hmmm,’” I said.

“Hold me tight, I love your strong arms around me.”

She almost sounded sad.

“It’s so beautiful around here. I wish my life could be like this,” she said.

“Don’t be too sure. My ex-wife started out that way, but soon came to think of all this as boring. No decent shopping, no TV, no suburban girl-things to do. Boats are usually a guy-thing.”

“Can I come back and see you?” she asked.

“You just got here. Maybe you’ll hate me when this is over.”

“Believe me, I won’t hate you.”

She sat up and pulled my shirt over my head and removed her dress. She kissed my chest and slid her face down to my waist. She undid my shorts and pulled them down.

“No skivvies? Have you no shame? I guess you did that so I can get to that delicious cock of yours more quickly,” she laughed, grabbing my quickly-rising member.

“No, that’s not it, but it will do.” I replied.

She flicked her tongue over the channel on back of my cock’s head. I shuddered. Then she rolled her tongue around the head before slipping the whole thing in her mouth. I just laid there enjoying the attention, feeling my cock continue to stiffen.

“A few more minutes and we’ll have a serviceable member again,” she said.

“A few more minutes and you have your protein fix.”

“ Don’t you dare cum in my mouth!”

“I’m told my cum is sweet ‘cause I don’t eat very much meat.”

“Is that supposed to be pathetic poetry or just plain bullshit?” she asked.

“You know how to hurt a guy. Don’t stop. Squeeze your lips and slide my cock in and out.”

She continued to gently suck on my cock and I sighed and moaned.

“My turn,” she said, “don’t move.”

She slid up, removed her panties and slowly lowered herself onto my rigid member. It slid in smoothly; she was ready.

“Let me do the work, tell me to stop if you get close. I neither want you to suffer nor to cum too soon.”

She slowly gyrated, pushing down hard so that I could feel what seemed to be the bottom of her pussy. I reached up and cupped her breasts and kneaded them. She seemed to enjoy that as much as I did. Her nipples hardened. I pinched them and rolled them between my fingers.

“My pussy tingles every time you play with my nipples. Your cock is a perfect fit for my little cunt. Can you feel my contractions?”

“How long am I supposed to survive this? I want to just pound that soft pussy of yours and empty my balls.”

She reached behind her and took a hold of my balls. Her warm hands were delicious and I could feel the urge to cum building.

“That doesn't help keeping me from cumming,” I said.

“I know,” she replied, “feels nice though, doesn’t it? If I squeeze hard, you will delay cumming by quite a while.”

“Probably, but thanks for not inflicting pain. I might have to spank you.”

“Ouu, spanking. You into that?”

“No,” I said, “you?”

“Not a chance, but if you had a four poster bed, I might let you tie me to the corners and have your way with me. You could slowly tease me, maybe we could use some toys...”

She moved a little faster, I felt myself losing control. She moaned loudly and ground her pussy hard. I grabbed her ass and moved her back and forth.

“Now, Fred, now! Cum! Fill me with your juice!” she moaned in a low voice as she closed her eyes and moved convulsively. I felt my cock explode and I moved my hips up to get as deep as possible. My cock just kept pulsating as my climax seemed to last forever.

Sweat dripped from her face and ran between her lovely breasts. I ran my fingers over the drops and licked them off. Salty. Mandy smiled a smile that hid a thousand words. She leaned down and kissed my lips. She whispered, “I love being with you; I wish this would never end.”

The first time we made love was to satisfy the lust, this time it was purely erotic. In a way, also sad. A week from now Mandy would be back in Bismarck with her lawyer husband, doing suburban things. We’d be just a happy memory. Of course, I was seeing the very best of Mandy. Who knew, maybe in real life she was a bitch. But I didn’t really believe that.

She was still on top of me, but the word ‘impaled’ certainly didn’t apply any longer as my cock, not used to this kind of workout, had gone limp.

“That was wonderful, I haven’t felt this good in ages. Making love under the stars takes me back to my college days when we used to sneak off to the beach,” she said.

“A fox, you were?” I asked.

“You bet...” She looked up at the stars, which were a veritable carpet of lights out here where there is absolutely no light pollution. The three-quarter moon cast shadows and the surrounding cliffs were dark silhouettes. This really was magic and I counted my blessings.

“Tell me more about yourself?” I asked.

“There’s not much to add. Want to see family pictures?” she replied.

“I thought you didn’t have any kids.”

“I don’t, just my husband and my house and all that.”

“Would I want to get to know your husband? I rather like pretending you’re all mine. Are you crazy about me because I look like your husband?”

“No, no, no, all wrong. I’m not crazy about you because of that. Come on, Fred. I’m way past being ga-ga over a guy because of his looks and if I were... well, you aren’t exactly Brad Pitt. I go for substance now. An active dick helps.”

She reached down and pulled on my cock. No reaction. I was disappointed.

“You are so crude!” I laughed, “but you are here because I somehow remind you of Bob?”

“Something like that,” she said.

I’m not a guy who reads between the lines. If you tell me something, I assume that’s what you meant to say; I don’t go looking for what you really meant. Makes me less than ideal as a long term mate.

“I don’t understand,” I said, “should I?”

“Maybe, don’t worry about it.”

“I rarely worry. That’s why my blood pressure is relatively low and that’s why I can make love to you without worrying that Bob will show up at my proverbial doorstep with a shotgun for having violated his woman.”

“You talk like a Neanderthal. Bob thinks I’m recharging my batteries.”

We both showered on the aft deck and she lay quietly in my arms looking at the stars. She pulled my hand around her and placed it on her breast.

“This is such a wonderful place, I’m so glad I’m here.” She sounded like a little girl. I was crazy about this woman. But then that’s not so unusual, I fall quickly. It was genuinely delightful to have her here. She even paid me; it almost felt wrong. Almost. I squeezed her tightly against me.

“If it’s possible to be crazy about somebody in a day, that would be me,” I said.

I held her other breast as well. It felt warm and safe to hold her.

An hour later we went to sleep in my cabin. The guest cabin wouldn’t have any overnight guests this week.

The following morning I woke up as usual at oh-dark-hundred which came at 0500 this morning. It wasn’t dark any more. I made a pot of my usually lamentable coffee. No clue what I’m doing wrong. The wonders of dongle technology gives me Internet access almost anywhere, and I checked my email. The news had nothing interesting. American politicians acting like idiots again – how can a great country like the U.S. cultivate such an insane political class? Greece still teetering on bankruptcy. I love Greece, they spend money they don’t have, but the EU doesn’t dare drop them. They’re small enough where the political impact of a default would be huge while the economic impact of preventing them from going bankrupt would be relatively small for the other EU countries. The old “give me more money or I’ll shoot myself.” I checked the weather for the next few days to confirm that we wouldn’t get hammered, turned the computer off and went up into the cockpit to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee.

A fisherman was across the small bay throwing out nets from his tiny wooden boat. I had to admire these rough men in their wooden bathtubs with one cylinder diesels that went out into seas that I found daunting in my oceanic 4x4. The poor guy will bring in almost nothing, they so over-fished these waters. Soon there would be a fish farm here. Stavros would no longer go out on his traditional boat. Another tradition lost to overpopulation. If I think too much about things, I get depressed.

I felt an arm around my shoulder, and she kissed my neck.

“Good morning, Captain, how did you sleep?”

“You are again a vision this morning, my lovely nymph. I always sleep well when Poseidon doesn’t have a night party. Much more important, how did you sleep?”

“I woke up in the middle of night absolutely horny, but you were totally conked out. I went back to sleep, lucky for you. But then I woke this morning in the same state,” she said with a big smile.

“My goodness. Coffee or sex first?”

“Get real, always coffee,” she replied.

“That’s disappointing; I thought you liked me,” I said.

“There are limits. Now fetch me some coffee. One sugar, no milk.”

“Are you one of those picky bitches I read about in Good Housekeeping?”

“Why do you have shorts on?” she asked.

“Cause I’m a shorts kind of guy,” I said, “besides, Stavros over there might be shocked.”

“Oh, shit,” she said, ducking.

“No fear. He can’t see you, he’s very nearsighted and he has no glasses.”

“You know him?”

“Of course, I’m here often, and as I’m by myself, I’m one of those clingy, needy men that try to make conversation with everybody.”

“You’re crazy,” she said, “I am wai-ting.”

I went below and she followed me.

I grabbed a cup from the locker and poured the coffee. She pulled my shorts down.

“Man, you are horny.”

“Nope, I just think you look great naked. Besides, look at that, your friend is waking up.”

She put her hand on my slowly rising dick and squeezed hard. She faced me; she was quite tall, and she kissed me, darting her tongue between my lips. My cock was hard again and pressed between our bodies. She grabbed my ass and pulled me close.

“Nothing like starting the day with coffee and a cock chaser, I’ve always said,” she said.

“You’ve never said that before.”

“You’re right, but if I’d known you earlier I might have.” She slid down and took my cock into her mouth, sucked hard and quickly stood back up. She looked down and said, “and good morning to you, too.”

She took a sip of coffee and said, “Damn, you drink this rubbish? This will not do. At all.”

She poured the rest down the drain while apologizing to the fish.

“What do you use for coffee?”

I showed her.

“Instant powdered coffee? You have got to be joking. I’m suddenly not even horny any more!”

She looked at my dick that had not been privy to the disappointment and was still at full attention.

“Okay, I am still horny. Got any tea?”

I nodded.

“Real tea? Not fruit stuff or green tea or Earl Grey?” she now sounded indignant.

“Real tea; I don’t do weird teas.”

“You may yet redeem yourself,” she laughed, giving me a hug.

Another woman from my dreams becomes real, I thought.

“Any stores on this island where I might get some proper coffee?” she asked.

“Not a chance. Not until we get to Patmos in two days. If it’s an emergency, we’ll go to Patmos first and then to Arki.”

“It’s an emergency,” she said.

“Aye, aye, admiral, we’re off to Patmos this morning,” I said.

“Fred, I’m kidding, don’t change your plans because of my addiction. You told me to bring anything that I insisted on having, I just never thought about food, just cosmetics.”

“It really doesn’t matter, it’s not that much further and I want you to be as happy as possible.”

“Ah, that gets us back to my condition. I think I just need a good, fast fuck, and I see you managed to stay prepared.”

“Semper Fi,” I said.

“Really?” she asked.

“No, but I like speaking Latin.”

“You are such a bullshit artist. I like that in a man. Now fuck me right.”

“Tell me again what you want?”

“I want you to take that big, beautiful prick of yours and slowly insert it into my wanting twat. I don’t want romance, no long foreplay – I did that already. Then I want you on top of me, slowly increasing the speed of your thrusts till I scream. At that exact time, I want you to cum deep inside me while I squeeze your balls and talk dirty to you.”

“Lay down and let me spread those long legs, let me see those luscious pussy lips spread for me.”

I picked her up and laid her down on the guest berth. She spread her legs wide. I inserted two fingers into her pussy; no foreplay, just testing the waters. My fingers slipped in smoothly and came out sopping wet. I licked her juice and put my fingers in her mouth. She smiled and slurped.

“Stop dilly-dallying and do me; I am dying for your cock.”

I climbed onto the bed and entered her very swollen pussy. She started moaning almost immediately and within a few minutes she was calling for more. I didn’t think I would make it to her climax, but she didn’t last long.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she screamed, “pump me full of your cum, now... oh...oh...”

She grabbed my balls and held them, rolling them around a little. I couldn’t hold it any longer and with a loud scream I shot my load deep into her hot twat. I doubt that she could actually feel it, but she reacted by heaving her hips and squeezing my balls harder.

“Ahh, that was delicious. I love starting certain days with a wake-up fuck. Don’t you?”

“You may not have noticed, but there was no one aboard with whom to have a morning fuck until you came. So to speak.”

She laughed. “Maybe I should just stay here, forget Bob.”

“Don’t tease me like that, I’m ready to marry you. How about a week longer?”

“We’ll talk,” she said, “now take me to the coffee.”

I told her what had to be done and she helped me prepare the boat. The morning wind had come up a bit and it promised to be a fine downwind ride to Patmos. Not yesterday’s boisterous sleigh ride.

We were under way by 0900 and we’d be in Patmos by one o’clock. Patmos is a historically significant island. St. John wrote the Apocalypse there in a cave. The Knights of St. John built a huge Crusader castle on the highest spot on the island. Patmos is sort of a half-moon shaped island oriented north-south with a number of excellent protected anchorages on the east side inside the crescent. I like the second bay north of Skala, the main town. The bay is large enough for a dozen boats, has an island at the entrance providing even more protection, and a good sandy bottom not more than ten meters deep. The water is clean for swimming and it’s far enough away from anything that few boats anchor there. Perfect for naked swimming and other naked activities. The walk to Skala takes about 20 minutes, good exercise.

The anchor was set before twelve-thirty. I suggested a swim, lunch, and free time until 1700 when we might find the stores open again after the midday siesta.

“What’s free time?” she asked.

“That’s time we, you and me, can do anything we want to do. Most people read or take a nap.”

“Or?” she asked.

“There’s always sex,” I suggested.

“You just had your way with me. Now you want to go at it again?”

“Not now, later, after lunch,” I said.

“Of course, you need time to recover.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, you have no idea what a sex machine I can be,” I said.

“What’s for lunch?”

“I have some local goodies from Samos. They make these spinach and feta pastries, ham and cheese and I think I got one just cheese. Give me a couple of minutes to warm them on the stove.”

We had lunch with a glass of my drinkable, but not memorable, boxed white wine. She seemed to enjoy the Greek lunch pastries.

“Tell me more about why you are here alone,” I asked.

“You figure it out,” she replied.

“I did.”

“Really? And what do you think?”

“I’m flattered and insulted,” I replied.

“Why insulted?”

“Because you didn’t ask me,” I said.

“What’s the difference?”

“ I might have refused,” I said.

“I don’t think you would have refused in a thousand years,” she started, “you have no progeny; you’re a proud guy would would very much like to think he left something behind, especially when there are no strings.”

“How did you come up with this idea?” I asked.

“I have no children; I badly want a child, maybe two. Bob’s ambivalent. He is most certainly sterile, but he refuses to discuss it, he thinks I’m the problem. He’s a wonderful man, but pigheaded. My friends Vanessa and Lloyd chartered with you and showed me the pictures – they remarked how much you look like Bob. It struck me as an opportunity. So I decided that for a week you would be Bob. I will go back and claim that the spa experience involved tension reduction – I couldn’t get pregnant because my life had too much tension. Our baby, yours and mine, would look enough like Bob that there would be no question.”

“What if he wants a DNA test done?” I asked.

“He would never do that. He would have no reason to. I will feed him enough bullshit to bolster his ego so that he wouldn’t even think of it,” she said, “but if all else fails, I’ll come back and live with you.”

“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll send him a secret email suggesting he do a test. Meanwhile, you need to understand that my sperm is extremely weak. It takes a lot of tries before one gets through.”

“Ah, of course. You think maybe we should spend some more time trying.”

“I definitely think that. I don’t want you to have spent a week with a sex-obsessed social pariah and come back empty… uh... bodied.”

Mandy called Bob every other day and told him how therapeutic her sessions were. She had joined a group of women with issues like hers and she felt rejuvenated. This might be something she would do periodically, she told him. I would occasionally fondle her during her phone calls. Seemed like a fun thing to do. She suggested I get a life.

We spent the rest of the week enjoying each other’s company as though we were newlyweds. I guess we sort of were. The northern Dodecanese islands now always say ‘Mandy’ to me. I was really sorry that she had to return to her real life, and I envied Bob.

A few weeks after she returned home, she emailed me that she was ecstatic; she had missed her period! She asked me if I had any suggestions for our baby’s name. I told her if it was a boy, anything but Fred.

That was a little over a year ago. Yesterday she and super-cute, Mensa-member-to-be baby Samantha joined me for another week. They have childcare at these spas, she had told Bob. She said she was ready for a son, and that I needed to get my male sperm prepared.

Mandy was a woman with a mission, but I knew that she was genuinely happy to be with me. It was one of the few times that I have felt bitter-sweet about my situation. Her voracious sexual appetite had nothing to do with her objective – she just loved it when we fucked. I respect that in a woman.

She told me that Samantha was female of Samos, near where she figured her daughter was conceived. Samantha Freda Rogers. What would she call her son, who could be conceived on Kalymnos?

I just keep thinking about sending Bob that email.