imagination
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Imagination free porn video
Imagination
Jayne Spenser
I was thinking about what might have happened.
It was a Sunday afternoon in the late 1980s and I was a fifteen-year-old
boy, single-handedly operating the small motorboat that was the passenger
ferry between Woodbridge Mill and the north bank of the River Deben where
a pathway went up towards Sutton Hoo and the old excavations. The first
half of the afternoon was always spent generally ferrying people north to
the Hoo and then later returning them all to the Woodbridge side.
It was a bright sunny Sunday afternoon and I had been quite busy for
about two hours with several trips over a falling tide which made life
interesting as it was then quite difficult to get to the northern hard
without running onto any mud-banks. If you did that, you were then stuck
there until the tide came back in several hours later - which wasn't very
popular with your passengers. I had managed every time so far to achieve
a neat and tidy arrival with no sign of even a nudge on a mud-bank.
Anyway, on this particular afternoon, my last south-to-north passenger
trip consisted of just two women. They looked like a mother and daughter,
but very much out of place on a small passenger ferry crossing to the
Hoo. They were dressed for the town with smart high-heeled court shoes,
totally unsuited to a muddy footpath or even for getting down the
slippery wharf steps to the boat which was, by this time, sitting about
15 feet below the top of the mill wharf.
The daughter, who looked to be about eighteen, was dressed very
fashionably for the time in a short-sleeved shirtwaister dress with
seamed stockings. She seemed to have quite a respectable figure, her
small waist accentuating the tight fit of the dress over her bust with a
good bum and hip combination which did my imagination no harm at all. She
was wearing the then obligatory silk Paisley headscarf and fitted nylon
gloves
Her mother, on the other hand, was dressed in a very fitting tweed suit
with a long-sleeved jacket closely buttoned above a knee-length pencil
skirt and her own stilettos. She was also wearing a similar silk scarf
and gloves. I would have guessed she was in her mid-forties.
Both were also carrying handbags.
Both needed help down the slippery steps and into the boat, the daughter
mainly because of her heels and the mother because she was obviously
restricted by everything; her heels, her skirt and the tight fit of her
jacket. After I had finally got them both settled in the boat, seated on
one of the cross benches at the prow, I went back up the steps to check
for any more customers. After several minutes it was obvious I was going
to get no more on that trip, so I went back down the steps and onto the
boat where I stood in the stern and started the engine. Stepping forward,
I cast off the two lines before coming back to throw the clutch and start
the crossing. As I approached the cross bench where the two women were
sitting, I detected a strong and very feminine perfume - obviously worn
by one or both of them.
I took my usual place alongside the tiller and opened the throttle.
Although it wasn't a big engine, it was enough to take us at a reasonable
rate across the half mile or so of the estuary to the north bank.
About halfway across, and well beyond casual sight of the inhabited south
shore, I happened to glance at my two passengers. Because of the many
moored boats and the number of shallows at low tide, it was the first
time I had really had either the time or the opportunity to do so.
I was somewhat surprised at what I saw.
Mother and daughter were sitting side by side and both had their legs as
wide apart as they could be, presenting me with two perfectly
unrestricted views. There could be no doubt whatsoever that it was quite
deliberate. The river was perfectly calm and the route straight at that
point, so there was no need to brace themselves in any way. Indeed, their
hands were relaxed in their laps, confirming this.
The view I got was quite something. The daughter was wearing nylons, a
blue nylon slip and fitting blue nylon and lace knickers (no abbreviated
panties then, of course). All this was on perfect view. About two inches
of bare flesh was visible above her stocking tops. She was also leaning
forward so that the front of her dress hung open sufficiently for me to
see the tops of her breasts nestling inside a matching blue nylon and
lace bra.
Mother was also wearing nylons and a similar slip but, rather than girly
knickers, she was wearing blue nylon or silk directoires, the legs of
which covered the tops of her nylons and came about two thirds of the way
down her thighs.
In both cases, the height of their stiletto heels, coupled with the low
bench seat, ensured that their knees were elevated - in turn ensuring
that the hems of their skirts in no way obstructed this breath-taking
view. Mother's straight skirt was only about knee-length in any case and
it was apparent that the daughter had raised her skirt hem sufficiently
to expose her knees. It was obvious that the view was entirely for my
benefit and they were both smiling at me.
I managed to steer for the correct point on the north bank and jump up
onto the hard (not the only hard around, I hasten to add) and tie up
before helping them both out of the boat and onto the footpath - all of
which seemed to involve a large amount of perfumed body contact and the
brushing of nylons and skirts against my hands as I helped them ashore.
Apart from the occasional "Thank you" for help in boarding and getting
ashore and change for their fares it was only then that 'mother' spoke.
"Would you like to join us for a walk?"
Seeing as I was actually running the ferry and there was already a queue
of people waiting to return, there was no way I could have done so
without losing my job.
"Thanks, but I have to run the ferry and, as you can see, there are
already people waiting to go back to Woodbridge."
Not, I admit, without some considerable regret, I returned to the boat
and got on with the work in hand, taking fares and helping people on
board. As I reversed back away from the hard, I could see them strolling
up the path and finally disappearing into the woods. They never looked
back.
Now, the funny thing is, my boat was the only local means of getting
between Woodbridge and the Hoo on a Sunday and despite the fact that I
continued to cross back and forth for the remainder of the day until well
after the Hoo was closed and no more travellers appeared, those two never
came back. They must have had transport waiting on that side of the river
as I was certain that they didn't live anywhere close by on the north
bank and there was nothing in the way of hotels or guest-houses. Not only
that, but they didn't have anything with them other than handbags. I had
been running the ferry for a considerable time that year - several months
- and I had never seen either of them before.
As I said, I wonder what would have happened if I had taken up their
invitation and gone with them. They obviously had no intention of coming
back to the boat, so what were they really up to?
They could have intended something quick in the woods, but somehow I got
the impression that this wasn't actually what they had in mind. Although
their lingerie display had been interesting as well as very revealing, I
have the feeling that they actually had something entirely different in
mind....
-oOo-
I woke gradually; very gradually and with a blinding headache. I was
aware that I was lying on my back and that I appeared to be on something
reasonably soft, probably a bed. Wincing at the bright white ceiling, I
was sure I didn't recognise it, particularly the lampshade and certainly
not the quite ornate ceiling rose above it. Moving my eyes a little -
even though it hurt to do so - I didn't recognise the wallpaper or the
curtains either. I came to the gradual conclusion that I just didn't know
this room and I certainly didn't know why I was there.
There were other things which seemed wrong as well, but I hadn't yet
achieved a high enough level of consciousness to be able to work out what
they all were. I really didn't have the energy to do much for the moment
so I just lay there and allowed my headache to subside gradually. I had
experienced the occasional hangover, but this seemed to be the tail end
of an absolute lulu! I couldn't understand it. Apart from anything else,
where could I have got the money in order to get so thoroughly plastered
and being only fifteen, where could I have got the drink in any case? I
only ever drank at home and then only occasionally and with permission.
I suppose it must have been about half an hour before I did much more in
the way of thinking. My head was feeling somewhat better and I began to
assess my overall situation. My vision was still a little blurred. My
lips felt slightly greasy, my face a little tight. I realised I could
smell a perfume I had noticed before, although I couldn't, as yet, place
it.
I made a concerted effort to move. Not much happened. I was still very
weak and making any effort seemed impossible.
"She's awake, Mother."
I heard this young female voice clearly, although I couldn't see anyone.
Whoever it was seemed to be behind me somewhere.
Who was awake? Was there someone else in a similar situation to my own? A
woman or girl, I thought, giving careful consideration to what had been
said.
"At last!"
I knew this voice, didn't I? Suddenly, I realised I recognised both
voices. It was the couple from the ferry. I didn't have time to think of
anything else before she started speaking again as she appeared at the
foot of the bed.
"I think you made the dose too big, Sarah. It's been nearly five hours
now and she's obviously still somewhat groggy."
I still didn't get it. Who were they referring to? I hadn't heard anyone
else in the room although I couldn't see very much with my head buried
deeply in a rather soft pillow.
So! Mysteries! Why was I lying on this bed? Had I had an accident or
something? Why was I restrained and who was this other person who had
just come round?
Oh! And what dose? Of what?
Yvette
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