The Three Signs - Book 4 - LisaChapter 39: Unwinding free porn video

Around the middle of November, the Federal Government announced its policy for handling new migrants to Australia; for those arriving under the auspices of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Much like we had planned, the government would set up several ‘training camps’, to assist in the resettling of these displaced people into the Australian community. The reception was pretty much as expected; the Federal opposition complained that it was a waste of money, and wanted to know where the funding would come from. But in the wider community, most people felt it was a good approach, there was a large number of ‘expressions of interest’ from towns across the country to be considered as a location for one of the camps.

State Governments saw it as a way to get Federal dollars to help with their infrastructure, boosting their local schools and technical colleges, all at no cost to them. They probably ignored the requirement that for a town to be eligible to be considered as a potential camp location, it needed to have the necessary infrastructure, including regular passenger and freight rail services to the state capital, existing schools and tech colleges, the appropriate state government offices for all services, and similar requirements. The intention was to delay the decay of many of these rural localities into ‘ghost towns’, as the state government would reduce or remove services until people moved away, and the town faded into obscurity.

Before long, Howard realized that this policy proposal was a way to do an end-run around his ‘One Australia’ initiative, to get much of the country accepting the reality of greater migration to the country. He was at a disadvantage, it was difficult to oppose the concept, because many parts of the country saw it as an economic development opportunity, bringing much-needed income, jobs and people to their communities. The National Party supported the policy since it would be a boon to their constituents, in fact, the only people who didn’t like it were the ‘dries’ in the Federal Liberal party. I felt that the outcome was pretty much as I had hoped; the discussion changed from ‘let’s cut Asian immigration’ to ‘how do we best help these migrants to become productive members of Australian society.’ Both Bob Hawke and Bob McMullen called me to personally thank me for coming up with the basis of the plan and putting the opposition on the back foot.

John Howard didn’t take things lying down; in early December he announced yet another new set of policies, called ‘Future Directions’. He spoke about a return to ‘traditional’ Australian values, and how the Opposition will be engaged in a ‘crusade’ between now and the next election. His policies were built on the primacy of the family, the dream of homeownership, support for law and order, the need for hard work to be rewarded, an education system that concentrated on teaching literacy and numeracy rather than ‘social awareness’, and the importance of private enterprise. He characterised his Opposition party – the Liberal / National Party coalition - as the party for ‘plain-thinking, honest, ordinary Australians’, and the Government as high-taxing, out of touch and making ‘back-room deals in smoke-filled rooms’. That last image had been tried years ago, back in the early 1960s. He reinforced his message with images of what he saw as ‘typical Australians’, women playing lawn bowls, former Prime Minister Sir Robert Menzies, photos of the ‘ideal Australian family’, with their new home and new car. The announcement was spoiled by technical issues; the lights went out on the stage at one point, and conversations between technicians could be heard over the PA system.

Tertiary education fees would be (re)introduced, with some scholarship program, essentially going back to how things were before the abolition of University fees – no doubt to make sure only those ‘worthy’ got a university education. There were other remarks on universities, mainly about freeing up policies for hiring academic staff. I suspected that was some hidden code for reducing the supposed ‘left-wing’ bias of university lecturers.

These policies were going to be harder to combat, they were all ‘feel good’ ideas. Bob Hawke immediately launched an attack on the policy package, saying it resorted to ‘the irrelevance, to the intuitive, to the feel-good words’ because the Opposition had not done the hard work of producing policies. He criticised Mr Howard for opposing every national wage increase for workers over the past five years and then “oozing concern” for the same workers. Of course, Howard didn’t specify just what sort of ‘families’ he was aiming his policies towards, in the past he had shown disdain for any plans to broaden the idea of ‘family’ away from the traditional married husband and wife, with children of their own. Still, Bob and the rest of the party hierarchy seemed to have things under control with their initiative in countering Howard’s latest attempt to sway Australian attitudes.

We were taking a break during the Saturday afternoon rehearsal when Stewie and Traci asked if they could have a quick talk with me. We headed downstairs and out behind the garage.

“Will, Bro, I have a favour to ask,” he said. “Actually, the two of us do; the place we are living in is being pulled down, they are building some new houses along that part of the street, and we have to be out by the end of January. Well, we are wondering, with all the rooms here, if Traci and I could rent one of them from you?”

“Not a problem, mate, you two are more than welcome to move in, that’s why there are all the rooms here. You can have the upstairs room that Rose had, now that she’s moved out; when would you want to move in?”

“You’re a lifesaver, Mate, we thought we would be screwed, there’s not a lot of decent accommodation around at the moment,” he said. “Maybe in January, once we are back from the Newcastle gig. What do you want us to pay?”

“Rent? Shit, I don’t know, what do you think is a fair thing? Mary Beth looks after the food money, everyone tosses in about forty a week for food, utilities, and whatever bills come up. Just pay what you think is reasonable, it’s not like I have to pay a huge mortgage or anything.”

“You’re a champ, Mate, thanks for everything,” he said, giving me the special ‘bro’ handshake.

Traci hugged me and kissed me on the lips.

“Thanks, Will, for everything,” she said. “It will be great, living in a place that isn’t a rat-infested dump!”

“Mary Beth will make sure you’ve got door keys, a remote for the garage and anything else that you need,” I said. “When we get back from Noosa, we will have to have a special ‘Welcome to Banksia Lodge’ dinner for you.”

The exams were run, marked and results entered into the system, there were no major surprises, those who we thought would do well did, and those who we feared would fail also lived up to our expectations. One thing that we found satisfying though, the general failure rate, particularly for first-year computer science students, continued the steady decline, it was now under ten per cent of first-year students failed one or more of their computer science subjects; and the rate was about five per cent for second-year students. At our final Computer Science Department / School meeting for the year, Professor Hiller congratulated all of us on an excellent performance, and how we had turned around what had been a rather disappointing failure rate.

“Some of you will be pleased to know that the Council has approved the proposed structure for the School of Computer Science Engineering, starting as of the 1st of January, 1989. Several of you will be getting promotions – well-deserved promotions – as part of it,” he said. “We will be structuring the School into several Departments, as follows: Artificial Intelligence, Formal Methods and Software Engineering, Computer Architecture and VLSI Design, Information Science, Algorithms and Programming Techniques, Networks and Operating Systems, and Human-computer Interaction. There is a paper being distributed, showing the assignment of each of you to those departments. Now, we are keeping our highly successful First-Year Unit intact, I think we know that’s the reason why we’ve been able to reduce failure rates over this decade. That unit will function as a cross-disciplinary unit, I’m not going to change something that is clearly working well.”

I looked at the organizational structure, I was in the Networks and Operating Systems Department, along with John Lions, and I had been promoted to Associate Professor. I had half expected that, but to see it confirmed, that was a big boost for me. On the way out, John Hiller motioned me over to him.

“I guess you’ve seen your name, and new position,” he said. “The promotion to Associate Professor is well deserved; you’ve been instrumental in the success of our first-year unit, you are one of our most popular and successful lecturers, all of your students give you excellent ratings on your teaching ability, and you have a good name around the world in the field of networks, particularly with Internet and network management techniques. I’m glad to have you on the team.”

He put his hand out and shook mine. I still didn’t like him, but not as much as before. At least it would be something for Lisa and me to celebrate. I thanked him for the confidence he had put in me, and I made some general remarks about how I enjoyed teaching here. I wasn’t the only person to get a promotion; Michelle was promoted to ‘Senior Administrative Officer’, and would be the main administration person for the new Department, while both Claude and David were appointed Associate Professors, Geoff Whale became a lecturer, and his position as senior tutor went to Debbie Rose. Greg was promoted to senior lecturer, as well.

Over the summer break, there would be some minor accommodation changes made to the building; the third floor would be the ‘Computer Science Engineering Department’, along with the two smaller lecture theatres on the fourth floor, right above where we were at the eastern end of the building. At the entrance to the wing where our unit was located, a new office suite would be fitted out for John, his administrative officer and the Department’s ‘executive officer’.

That pretty much ended the year at University for me; time to make sure all of the test computer equipment was powered down, windows were closed, I locked my office and headed off home for the long summer break. For the first time in several years, we didn’t have extensive touring planned; most of the band members were finding it inconvenient to be away for an extended period. All we had planned was two weeks before Christmas in Wollongong and Canberra, the usual New Year’s Eve concert in Victoria Park, and a week in Newcastle early in January. Later this week, Lisa, Fiona and I were taking a cruise up to Port Stephens; we had invited Garry and Michelle to come with us. Given favourable winds, it would take the best part of a day to sail from Pittwater to Port Stephens, and we would stay overnight at the marina at Nelson Bay.

We checked the weather forecast for the remainder of the week; the rains of the weekend had passed, although tomorrow (Tuesday), the winds would still be from the southeast, although only around 13 to 15 knots. But that would be ideal for the voyage up the coast from Pittwater, past Newcastle to Port Stephens; we would have the wind behind us, making for a smooth sail. The remainder of the week looked like nice, warm summer weather, winds generally from the north-east, maybe 10 to 15 knots maximum. The decision was made; we would get up early tomorrow morning, drive to the sailing club, and aim to be on our way north by 6:30. We had the supplies for the four days packed, not that we would need much in the way of clothing, and I would fill the water tank from the hose at the club deck before we left Clareville.

I decided we wouldn’t need to tow the dinghy all the way up with us; I left that tied to the mooring buoy, and motored to the rigging deck, tying up to the jetty next to the water hose. While the others loaded our supplies onto ‘Young Lovers’, I filled the drinking water tank, checked the fuel level – it was just a touch below full – and we were ready to set sail. The wind was still relatively light, so we decided to go with the large number one genoa; Garry got that ready to hoist while I ran the sheets; Lisa motored us away from the club dock, out to the main part of Pittwater, we hoisted the sails, and we were on our way. I used the radio to call the Volunteer Coastal Patrol at Duffy’s Forest and lodged our sail plan, giving them a description of the boat, sail number, destination and the names of all of the people on board. We would check in with the Coastal Patrol when we arrived (safely) at Port Stephens.

“Do you have to give them that information?” Michelle asked. “That’s almost like lodging a flight plan if you are flying a private plane.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, “but it makes sense and is good from a safety point of view. Now, while we are talking safety ... There are life jackets in the storage locker under the main bunks down below, you can put one on if anyone wants to. Remember, when you are moving about the boat, keep one hand holding something – one of the rigging wires, or the lifeline along the side, just hold on to something. It’s easy enough for a gust of wind to tilt the boat over, or something like that, and before you know it, you’re in the water. If anyone does fall in, we have a ‘man overboard’ procedure, both Lisa and Garry know it well, but I, or whoever is steering, will nominate someone to constantly look at where the person is in the water, and point in their direction, using an arm. We will drop the sails, and motor to where they are. We can unclip the lifelines at the stern, and pull whoever it is back on board. But I don’t want to have to try that, so remember one hand for the boat, one hand for yourself – at all times. Also, remember the boom can swing across at any time with a lot of force, so if you are near it, make sure you keep your head down.

“It should be pretty smooth, but if you’re feeling sick, lean over the downwind rail – don’t spew into the wind! If you need to take a leak, the head – toilet – is down below. We guys can just piss off the stern rail, but ladies, you might want a bit more privacy. If you don’t know how the head works, ask one of us, just don’t put anything other than the toilet paper in it, unless you want to help me unblock it!”

“Or you can just hang off the back and go,” Lisa said. “And get that nice fresh natural douche from the ocean bidet!”

“Oh, that’s sounds exciting!” Fiona said. “As long as a fish wouldn’t get stuck in my pussy!”

I spread the chart out on the cockpit bench, and indicated the course we would be taking. Initially, a bearing east-nor-east – 65 degrees to get us clear of ‘Third Point”, off Bouddi National Park, then turning more to the north on a bearing of 30 degrees. Once we were off Terrigal, we would swing in closer to the shore, to avoid sailing into the East Coast current. Once we cleared Norah Head, it was pretty much a straight course past Newcastle and Nobby’s Head, across Stockton Bight to Fingal Head, Shark Island and into Nelson Bay.

“What’s the East Coast current?” Fiona asked.

“There’s a strong and constant ocean current,” I said, “that flows north to south down the east coast of Australia, averaging three to four kilometres offshore. It runs at about 3 knots, so if we sailed out too far, and got into that current since we are heading north, it would reduce our effective speed towards Port Stephens by that amount. Plus, if we are close enough to the shore to make out landmarks, we will know where we are at all times.”

“Good! I would feel a bit nervous if I couldn’t see the land,” Michelle said. “I know the boat is safe, and you said the previous owner sailed it from New Zealand to here, but...”

“We won’t be heading too far from shore,” I said. “The only place where we will need to be on our toes is when we get close to Newcastle Harbour, there could be some large cargo ships, coal and ore carriers waiting to enter the harbour. Entering Port Stephens is pretty simple, particularly compared to Lake Macquarie, the bar can be a bit tricky there.”

The voyage up the coast was rather uneventful; once we cleared Pittwater the girls removed their bikini tops; I was mindful of the sun on my body, and not wanting to risk skin cancer, kept my tee-shirt on. We took turns on the helm, Lisa gave both Fiona and Michelle instructions on how to steer the boat. We were halfway between Port Macquarie and Newcastle when we decided to have lunch, some ham and cheese sandwiches that had been made the previous evening, washed down with some cold lemonade. There were no issues getting past the Port of Newcastle, a few large ships were waiting to enter the harbour, but we gave them plenty of room.

We continued north-east, past the long expanse of Stockton Beach, eventually reaching the headlands that marked the entrance to Port Stephens. We set ourselves up on the line to enter between the two headlands, and I pointed out that at night, there were leading lights, to make it easier to follow the safe path into the bay, and how if you veered off course, the lights changed from white to either green or red. We followed the channel markers to the main marina and tied up at their jetty. It had been a pleasant cruise up the coast.

While I waited on the boat, using the radio to report in with the coastal patrol to advise of our safe arrival, Lisa checked in at the marina office, and they told us what berth we had for the rest of the week, gave us a key to the power box and the bathrooms. We then motored to our berth, I secured the boat, and we packed away the sails. Time to explore Nelson Bay and see where we might have some dinner. At the marina office, they recommended Wests Leagues Club, maybe a kilometre down the road. If we were going there, we thought we should dress up in something a bit more presentable than shorts and tee-shirts; so we visited the showers, got changed, and were about to call for a taxi to take us there. The office said that the Club ran a shuttle bus, which did a circuit of Nelson Bay, stopping at the motels, caravan park and the marina, so that took care of the transport issue.

We had an enjoyable meal, put a few dollars through the poker machines – with no luck- and caught the shuttle bus back to the marina for an early night. Garry and Michelle were sleeping on one of the quarter bunks that ran down underneath the cockpit, while Lisa, Fiona and I slept on the main bunk. At least there was a curtain they could draw across their bunk to give them – and us – some privacy.

Wednesday morning, after a hearty breakfast, we decided to explore Port Stephens, Garry suggested heading towards Karuah, where we could tie up at the village jetty, and explore some of the shops there. It was a lovely day to be out on the water, a warm breeze from the northeast, so we sailed from Nelson Bay, past Soldiers Point, across the western part of the bay to the Karuah River. We dropped the sails, since the channel was rather narrow, and motored up to the village jetty. The girls put their bikini tops back on, and we walked up to the village. It was a toss-up between having lunch at Munchies Café and Takeaway, the RSL Club, or a fish and chip shop; Munchies won out.

After a pleasant meal, we wandered around some more, eventually finding an antique store, there wasn’t anything there that took our eye – at least nothing at a price we were prepared to pay. After a while, it was back to the boat, and we continued to explore Big and Little Swan bays. There were lots of oyster leases making sailing difficult, it was easier to use the engine. Near Lemon Tree Passage, we anchored next to a small island, and since there was no one else around, we all stripped off, and dove into the water. It was a great way to cool off, having the sugar scoop stern made it easy to get back on board the boat, there was no need for a ladder to climb and get over the transom.

Eventually, it was time to get back to our marina berth, once we had pulled up the anchor, Garry and I hoisted the sails, and we made our way back to Nelson Bay. At the marina, we had our showers, washing the saltwater from our bodies, then it was back to the boat to cook dinner; I had prepared some chicken satay sticks a few days ago, they had been soaking in their marinade in the fridge. I set up a charcoal grill in the cockpit, and while I cooked them, Lisa, Michelle and Fiona prepared some salads, and Garry set the table in the main cabin.

After dinner, Garry and I sat out in the cockpit with our guitars, playing a few songs and singing, entertaining the girls. Fiona decided to get her mandolin and join us.

“A pity Allison isn’t here, she could join us on her fiddle,” Garry said,

Before long, we had several other people gathered around, standing on the dock listening to us play. It was like back when we were at high school when Garry would come around to my place, and we would spend a few hours jamming, playing some music that one or the other of us had bought.

“That’s how I taught Will to play the guitar,” Garry said. “Not that he needed a lot of teaching, he is a natural at music.”

“What was that song, ‘there’s no formula for happiness’ ... G. Wayne Thomas?” I asked him. “Do you still know how to play that?”

“I think so, do you remember the words?” he said and played the introduction.

“Wow, that’s a lovely song,” Fiona said. “What was that from?”

“There was a surf movie, ‘Morning of the Earth’, came out in the early 70s,” I said.

“You are really good,” one of the audience members on the dock said. “Do you play professionally?”

“Yes, we do,” I said. “We are in a Sydney-based Rock/Blues band called the Roberttones. We’ll be playing up at Broadmeadow race track in early January, so come along and see us.”

“You played there last summer, didn’t you?” one of the others asked. “Kate and I went to see them, you’re bloody good, a fantastic concert. We need to get tickets, Wozza before they are all sold out! We can see about getting them when we get back to town, after we saw them last year, we decided that if they are ever back, we’ll see them again.”

“I think we’re playing five nights, from Tuesday 3rd to Saturday 7th,” I said. “So you’ve got time to get tickets for whichever night you want. I wouldn’t wait too long, we are pretty popular up there.”

We continued playing, a mix of some of the folk songs we would play at the Three Weeds, some that we played in our regular sets, and a few others that Garry and I would usually play; ‘A Summer Song’, ‘Yesterday’s Gone’, ‘Touch the Wind’, plus a few others. By the time we said we were finished for the night, there were probably twenty or so people gathered around the boat, listening to us. They all applauded and thanked us for the impromptu concert.

“We’ll probably be doing it again tomorrow night,” I said. “You’re welcome to come by and listen if we are playing.”

They thanked us again and wandered back to their various boats, meanwhile we started to pack things up and head below.

“That was so much fun,” Fiona said. “I never thought we would have people turn up to just watch and listen to us, for what was an informal jam session.”

“I enjoyed that, Will,” Garry said. “We don’t get together and jam all that often these days, not like when we were at high school.”

“It was a great end to a really good day,” I said. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow, as well. Thanks, guys for that jam session this evening, it was a lot of fun.”

“You three sounded good together,” Lisa said when we were in bed. “You and Garry should play together more often, I think he would enjoy that.”

Fiona seemed particularly horny, between Lisa and me we gave her at least four orgasms before we were all exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning looked like a repetition of the previous day, after a light breakfast, we decided to explore more of the lake, this time some of the smaller bays and inlets on the northern side of Port Stephens. Some tributaries fed into the lake, but I wasn’t sure if we could fit underneath some of the bridges, so we kept to the main part of the bay. We found one sheltered area to anchor for lunch – North Arm Cove – once we had dropped the sails, it was time for lunch. After finishing our meal, the three girls stripped off completely and lay naked on the deck in the sun. Garry and I did the same, but Lisa reminded me to put sunscreen on.

“I don’t want to have to explain to Traci how I let you get sunburned,” she said. “Let me help you, I’ll get the cream on your back.”

“Can I do his prick?” Fiona asked.

“You don’t need permission to do that,” I said. “Just don’t get carried away!”

Once I was properly protected from the UV rays, I lay down on one of the cockpit benches and closed my eyes. I put aside all thoughts of Labor Party policies, router back doors, the new head of the Computer Science Engineering School, all of the things that had been occupying my mind for the last few months. There was just the rocking of the boat underneath me, the warmth of the sun on my body, and the knowledge that close by, there were three beautiful, naked women lying down in the cockpit of the boat. I must have drifted off to sleep and woken up a bit later because I could hear the others laughing at me.

“Having some good dreams there Will?” Michelle asked me.

I looked down to see my prick was fully erect, somehow I must have been thinking about the three of them, naked, with the obvious results.

“Just some inspiration as I was sleeping,” I said.

“It might be more comfortable sleeping down on the bed in the cabin,” Lisa said. “Are you interested?”

“I could be tempted...” I replied, stood up, and let Lisa lead me down into the cabin.

“The others will know exactly what we are doing,” she said, as she pushed me onto the bed. “They are up there knowing we are fucking ... that’s a real turn on for me; how about you?”

“Yeah ... I wonder if Michelle and Garry will start to play around?” I said.

Lisa mounted me and started riding up and down, it wasn’t long before Fiona came down into the cabin.

“I decided to give Michelle and Garry some privacy,” she said, as she lay next to me on the bed. “Not that the cockpit of the boat, anchored in this bay is ‘private’, but I’m sure they don’t want me up there...”

“Since you are here,” Lisa said, “why don’t you suck my tits?”

Fiona moved around, positioning herself over my face so she could suck Lisa’s tits; of course her pussy was right above my mouth, so I took that as an offer to lick and suck her, she was already moist. Both girls came rather quickly, and I wasn’t far behind them. All three of us lay on the bed, arms around each other, recovering and resting.

“At least this bed is big enough for all three of us,” Fiona said. “I am sure there are some boats where we couldn’t all get into the bed together, or sit up because it was so close to the deck above.”

“I have seen in some of them,” I said, “and the main berth is a v-shaped bed at the front of the cabin. They look hard to get into, and there’s not much headroom between the mattress and the underside of the deck above. That’s why I like how this boat is configured, we have a big main bed, with room for all three of us, and no restrictive headroom.”

“And even the other bunks, along the side of the engine compartment, are a decent size,” Lisa said. “We should try those out one time, make sure they are acceptable for fucking!”

“I would love to be on board somewhere secluded at night,” Fiona said. “Make love with both of you up on the deck, look at the stars and the night sky.”

“Maybe we can go to Castle Lagoon or somewhere like that in late January or February,” I suggested. “Just the three of us, if you want.”

“With a limited touring season planned, we should have time for that,” Lisa said. “That would be fun; I always enjoy getting away in the boat.”

Fiona snuck a quick peek up at the cockpit, Garry and Michelle seemed to have finished their post-lunch love-making, so we headed upstairs, and the five of us cleaned up and cooled down with a swim off the rear of the boat. Eventually, we decided it was time to head back to the marina, we got dressed, hoisted the sails and sailed back to our dock. Just like the previous evening, after dinner, Garry, Fiona and I got our instruments and sat out in the cockpit, playing and singing for the other people who wandered up to hear us. This evening there were twice as many people watching as there had been the night before, word must have got around. We played for several hours, going through much the same as we played the previous evening, and at the end, we thanked everyone for coming to listen and told them that we would be sailing back to Sydney in the morning.