Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2017 01:39:09 +0000 (GMT)
From: ovote@unseen.is
Subject: Not the usual cruising Ch 1

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This story will include, in subsequent chapters, descriptions of acts
between adults and pubescent youths. Bear in mind that this is a story only
and is not factual in any way. Thought crime remains only in the pages of
Mr Orwell's novel so enjoy, but do not recreate any scenes which may strike
a chord within you.

This story is true, well it is until the end of the first paragraph, then
it veers off into fantasy land. And fantasy land is a place where the
passions that drive us can be indulged without fear of consequences that
keep our behaviour on the right side of the law in real life. So step into
my fantasy land, pull up a chair, get comfortable and grab a tissue or two
(you'll probably need them), but not for this first chapter.

I had messed around with computers more or less since Clive Sinclair
brought out his ZX80, all the way through Atari, Amiga and Commodore. That
was a time when 128 Mb was cutting edge if you remember. When the web took
off I jumped right on there, loving every new development. At one time you
used to phone someone to tell them you had sent them an email, the need to
check for such things as new mail being a rare event.

It was a natural progression to move more and more of my business to being
web based as we got nearer the point at which we are at today. My work
being technology based made it a natural fit in a digital world. But what I
did not anticipate was the way in which it increased my income
drastically. No, I'm certainly not in the Zuckerberg or Gates league,
nowhere near as a matter of fact. But with much, much less travelling to
clients and far more productive hours I am doing quite well in a job where
reputation for top quality work counts for much. I was doing almost three
times the amount of actual work in about half the time, and able to do it
sitting at home in my shorts and stomach with a cold drink at my side.

Another bonus was the extra time I found for the things that excite me. You
know what I mean by that of course, you wouldn't be trawling through these
story boards if we weren't alike would you? So about two years ago I made a
decision to spend some of the money I was making and do something I have
had an inkling to do for many years. I decided to buy a narrowboat. For
those of you who aren't familiar with the term a narrowboat is a canal
barge. The old canal network of Britain, built during the Industrial
Revolution, is now used exclusively for leisure cruising, with quite a few
thousand boats on it throughout the year. Many people live aboard their
boats the whole year round, either continually cruising or living in a
marina. After a fair amount of trips looking at second hand boats I had
found none that fitted what I ideally wanted. I could have bought the
nearest thing I found and then remodelled it to suit me, but instead set
out the design for what I wanted and went visiting boat builders.

Traditional boats have one long interior saloon where all the living space
is built. I. however, wanted a small cabin to the rear, then a portion of
deck space, and then a main living area. In the centre portion of the deck
I wanted an electric or hydraulic winch that I could use to lift a quad
bike on and off the boat. I did not like the idea of being without wheels
in different areas of the countryside, and it isn't really practical to end
up leapfrogging a boat and a car throughout wherever my unplanned
wanderings took me. Luckily for me one of the boat building companies I had
on my highly recommended list was really enthusiastic about turning their
hands to such an unusual project. After a good few months working out plans
together we had the final designs to start the build.

I'm not going to detail the next sixteen months while the boat was built,
painted and then delivered to a local marina where I finished all the
interior to the way I wanted it all set out. I could have left absolutely
everything to the boat builder, and took ownership of something that I
threw my clothes and other bits on, and then sailed off. But I preferred to
do a lot of the interior work myself, and a lot of the internal wiring was
going to be just the way I wanted it. The rear cabin was going to be an
office and work space as well to keep work separate from pleasure. During
the time I fitted out the boat I took several holidays hiring a boat from
some of the many companies that specialise in holiday hires, and spent a
fair few weeks cruising. The attraction of living aboard full time grew
stronger during these breaks, and soon I was seriously considering putting
my house with a management agency for rental and jumping in with both
feet. In to living aboard that is, not jumping into a canal. I had moved
house pretty regularly during my life, I guess there is some nomad in me
somewhere, so I wasn't really tied to that specific pile of bricks and
mortar in any emotional way. And I wasn't tied to my adult children by
geography, one of them working in London, and the other had moved over to
Australia after marrying an Australian girl. No matter where I was I would
still be speaking to them regularly by Skype, and visiting them pretty much
as I did if at home.

During my holiday cruises I noticed quite a high proportion of single gay
men who also lived alone on boats, cruising or marina based. As a gay man
my gaydar was quite well developed. Unfortunately few, or rather none,
appealed to me. My preference being for a younger partner, up to an age
somewhere around early thirties. I can't put that down to any particular
reason apart from never moving away from that age group as I found myself
blowing out an ever increasing number of candles on my birthday
cakes. Still being in my late forties I was not yet at the stage where I
was having difficulty finding suitable partners for satisfying my desires.

So cutting out all the details of what I did to the boat, and jumping
forward to the time when it all came together, the day finally arrived when
I went from living in a house to a wandering water gypsy. The first couple
of weeks I moved around more or less on a daily basis. The canal version of
sea trials for the boat as I called it. On a few occasions I got in touch
with some of the guys I knew and asked them if they wanted a few days
onboard with me, so I wasn't short of nice company to keep me warm at
night. It turned out that we needed to keep cool as it happened. May and
June were glorious months, with non-stop sun and lovely high
temperatures. The sight of a lithe young body on the boat, often wearing
nothing but a pair of shorts did stir my loins considerably, so early
mooring and good sex was the order of most days when I had company. I
jokingly renamed the boys Roger the cabin boy while they were aboard, and
as the old joke goes, many a pleasant hour was passed rogering the cabin
boy.

You've been patient enough reading through all this up to now, so let's get
to the good parts of the tale for you. I had one `Roger' (his name is
actually Simon) who came to spend a week with me during some time off
work. He was 23 years old and was perhaps a quarter Filipino, although his
family had lived here for a few generations. We have known each other for
about four years now, and hooked up together many times in the past. We
enjoyed each other's company and shared quite a few common interests in
music, computers and such things. He, like me, loved a little weed as an
appetiser for good horny sex. But the time came when he had to jump ship so
to speak and get home for work. We moored for the last two days just
outside a small village in the Midlands. I am not going to give away the
exact place, and it will soon become clear why. A fair amount of time was
spent in the village pub, running up there two aboard the quad bike, and
abandoning it there until I was under the alcohol limit to bring it back
the morning afterwards. Most people will tell you that living on a
narrowboat is something that causes people to open conversations with
you. Often the same questions, then moving to more general topics. And
being open about being a gay man with his young lover never caused any
problems with the people we met. The quad bike also attracted the interest
of a group of the village boys as we sat on the tables outside the pub, so
by the end of the second day they had got to know us. There is no mistaking
Simon as gay, he has a slightly effeminate voice and doesn't hide it,
although he doesn't act overtly camp. On the day he had to travel home we
went up to the pub for lunch, after a long goodbye fuck of course, and then
I was taking him to catch a train to our home town. I was a little sad to
see him go, but there is always the next time to look forward to.

When I got back to the village it was around 7 pm, so decided to have an
evening meal at the pub rather than starting to prepare food
aboard. Sitting in the beer garden I stayed with a Coke rather than
alcohol, so I could ride the bike back down to the canal. Two of the boys
we had chatted with over the last days spotted me and came up. They asked
me where Simon was, so I explained he had to go home for work now that his
week's break had ended. The more outgoing of the two made a laughing
comment about me being all alone without my boyfriend. He turned to the
second boy and laughingly said to him

"I'll bet you will miss as well"

The second boy aimed a playful punch at him and laughed it off, but I could
see he looked a little embarrassed and I noticed he had to get a slight
blush. Simon had pointed him out to me at during one visit to the pub and
opined that the boy was, or would be gay. The boys were around thirteen or
fourteen and Simon had said it was like looking back at himself when he
watched the boy. The not quite fitting in with your peers was really
evident to Simon. Being of one generation further backwards, I must have
been better at hiding what how I felt.

Just as I haven't told you the name of the village I'm not telling you
these boy's names. But to make this easier for you to follow we will call
them Peter (the more outgoing) and Paul (the quieter boy of the two). It
was about this point that Peter announced he was going over to the village
store before they closed for the evening, Paul made no move to follow along
with him as he went. I could see he was still a little bit affected by his
friend's casual joke, so once Peter had moved off out of earshot I quietly
said to Paul

"Don't let him get to you like that, next time you jump in and be the one
that says it to him first"

Which was probably not the best thing to say, but I was just preventing an
awkward silence developing. In truth I suppose that Simon's view had some
merit, and Peter was at least suffering from the explosion of hormones
being released as he hovered around the age of puberty.

"But I'm not" he tailed off, not comfortable enough just yet to utter the
dreaded word.

"It wouldn't matter if you are or not" I said back to him. "Who you like
and who you go to bed with is the least important thing a true friend will
judge you on. And if they do, then they are not a real friend to you. All
that matters is that you are true to yourself and be the person you want to
be"

He said nothing in reply to me, but from the lightening of his expression
the words relaxed his tense expression. Deciding to expand on what I had
said to him I went on.

"There will come a time, probably not too far ahead in your life, when you
will feel the need to understand the odd feelings you might have. Think
carefully about who you know and who you can trust to talk about things
like that with you. Don't just jump in with the first person, but take the
time to decide if you want to let them know your innermost secrets. I wish
there had been someone in my life who I could have turned to, but times
were different then and I went through a lot of unhappiness before I was
able to work it all out for myself"

I spotted Peter coming back into the beer garden and quietly told Paul his
friend was coming back, and then went straight to talking about my bike and
how fast it was and the differences between a quad and an ordinary
motorcycle. Peter arrived back at my table during that part and we all
carried on chatting about bikes, then cars for a while. Soon I had finished
my meal, a steak which they cooked just the way I liked it done, and it was
about the time when I was ready to head back to the boat. When I told the
two boys I was going one of them, and I can't recall which of them it was,
asked what I did on the boat at night. I told them I would be putting the
quad back on the deck, taking a shower and probably be watching a film or
maybe messing about in my workroom with electronics stuff. Yes, I'm a
gadget freak as well. After making our farewells I headed down to the other
end of the village where the canal was.

Putting the quad on the boat wasn't a difficult task, the winch moved a
platform outwards and down onto the towpath, think about a wheelchair lift
that you see on certain types of vehicles and you pretty much get the
idea. A few seconds to lift up the guard rail that keep the quad in
position and I could bring the whole thing back to its position between the
two cabins. The boat didn't need any closing up for the night as I had been
away for most of the day, so I was soon headed for the bathroom and a nice
hot shower.

I have never been attracted to young boys, well not since I was the same
age myself and wanted to get into the pants of a few of my
schoolmates. Sadly, times were different then and things like that just
didn't happen in our Catholic school. Or if it did the bastards kept it a
secret from me. All these years later I can remember the intensity of the
feelings I had for one particular boy through five years of school, until
we were all sixteen and went our different ways in the world. So I looked
on the little conversation with Paul as nothing more than what it was, and
to be honest had mostly let it slip from my mind by the time I had done all
that needed to be done. By about 9.30 the light was fading, we had about
three weeks before the summer equinox, and I was sat on the stern wearing
just my shorts and a loose T shirt, the temperature was still somewhere
around 20° Celsius and I was enjoyed a nice toke in the
countryside. What could be better? One of the things I had installed while
I was doing the fit out of the boat was a comprehensive security system
including motion detectors and infra-red cameras. I have no idea at all why
I did it, apart from the enjoyment of setting up the system, and me having
all the equipment lying around not being used after I took it all out of an
office I had used a couple of years before. The biggest danger anyone was
likely to face on an English canal would be an angry swan. As I said I'm an
unashamed gadget freak, and it costs me nothing to run with having more
solar than I needed to power it. I had the computer on in the back cabin
with music playing quietly out to me, and the security system had started
up by default when the computer came on. I heard the little chirp
announcement of someone approaching along the towpath, it gave a perimeter
warning of somewhere about 20 metres. It wasn't exactly a rarity for people
to be out walking on the path on a warm summer's evening so I paid it no
mind. I wasn't even watching the path to see who was coming along it.

The quiet voice took me by surprise "What you were saying before, can I
talk to you about something?"

I looked up with a start and saw Paul stood there.

End of Ch 1

...

What did I do?

My aim is to submit each chapter pretty quickly for you, hopefully no more
than a week apart.

If you enjoyed this check out The Magician and the Prince on your way to
the donate page.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/the-magician-and-the-prince/