Voyage to Paradise

Chapter 3 Balmy Enchantment

I had never before experienced such a calm, peaceful and thoroughly relaxing feeling as if I were buoyed by the warm waters of the tropics but raised to the heavens where I could float among the clouds. Taken in reverie I drifted from one pleasant dream to another much too quickly for me to associate time or event to the visions but I did recognize the players and Bobby was prominent. There was just an endless stream of familiar faces and places from my past loosely associated but all of good will and good fortune. The reverie was shaken by a discordant aroma. The smell was disrupting my dream. I was suddenly in a certain place and time and no longer floating on-high. I found myself in my neighbor's house sitting at their kitchen table with a cup of hot coffee in front of me. That was it! That was the smell; brewed coffee. Suddenly, an eight year old Bobby came running up to me and started punching me on the shoulder. I was getting annoyed at his bratty behavior and for the first time since I knew him, I yelled, "Bobby! Stop punching me! Bobby..."

I could hear him saying, "I'm not hitting you... Get up! Get awake."

I didn't want to surrender the euphoria to the travail of the day and tried desperately to hold onto my sleep. Reluctantly I gave into Bobby's persistent and annoying poking and opened my eyes to see and feel heat of the cup of coffee about an inch in front of my nose. As I was collecting my thoughts and taking inventory of my situation, Bobby railed on about me still being in bed.

Ignoring what he was saying, I interrupted him by asking, "What time is it?"

He continued his nagging before answering my question but eventually barked "12 noon!" "You should be ashamed of yourself for sleeping the day away," he said with sarcasm.

As the fog of sleep began to lift from my being, I sat up and took the cup from his hand and sipped the piping hot beverage very carefully. I noticed he was barefoot and dressed in shorts and a tee-shirt that he apparently brought with him. His hair was neatly combed and he must have showered and shaved since he smelled of soap or shampoo and looked bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to take on the day. The coffee seemed to clear my senses and I then realized that we had planned to leave before 8 am and our itinerary was already screwed up and we hadn't even left port. I was mentally kicking myself for fucking things up and was trying to think of how I could build a plan to catch up with all of the reservations I had so carefully made. I knew I had scheduled things too tightly. I was worried that it would be too much like a forced march rather than a relaxing vacation but now it's going to be even worse. Some of those marinas were very difficult to get into and could not be rescheduled or moved. After mulling things over, I said, "Bobby, I'm sorry I fucked up and we missed our scheduled departure. I'll rework the schedule and we can leave first thing tomorrow morning." I thought Bobby would be very disappointed at the news since I have always been a stickler for schedules and punctuality. I was hoping that he wouldn't think I was a hypocrite since I have always been all over him about such things. I drove it home hard.

He looked straight into my eyes and said, "What are you talking about, we left on time. We pulled out of the marina at exactly 7:58 am."

"Are we still underway? Where are we? Who's at the helm?" I barked in quick succession.

Still staring at me but with a smirk on his face he said, "We're docked; we're at Fisher Island: there is no one at the helm."

Shocked and surprised I said, "You mean you did this all by yourself and no one helped you. How did you do it?"

He spat back, "Well, you were in no condition to help me so I did it myself. It really wasn't that hard considering you have the trip and every single thing we are going to do over the next two weeks planned to the exact second. I knew you'd be pissed if we missed the schedule so I got us underway but actually I was two minutes ahead of schedule when leaving and a whole hour early in arriving here. You know, we really should have headed a lot further south on this first day if we're ever going to make it all the way down to Snake Creek and still have time to do something before we head back."

I looked at him with a sense of awe in admiration of what he apparently accomplished. Here, I was nervous about taking this two million dollar boat out but it obviously didn't bother him in the least. Well, I guess since it wasn't his two million dollars; what's to worry about. If I was going to survive this trip, I was going to have to relax my normally control-freak tendencies. I had done ok so far but it was because the things that were happening were happening to Bobby and not to me. Things are a bit different now. This is my boat and it's my money at risk. How am I ever going to let go of my normal controlling habits? I want this trip to be fun for both of us and Bobby will certainly not have fun with me in command of everything we do. I'm sure it was this flaw in my personality that drove Lena away and it was very reason that I had no one other than Bobby to call who would want to spend dedicated, isolated time with me on a boat. I guess Captain Queeg and I have a lot in common.

Bobby was in unbelievably good spirits considering just how sick he was last night. I thought he would have a terrible hangover today. Last night, I was worried that he would be too sick to ship out. I guess I was wrong. I guess I have been wrong about a lot of things. I made up my mind right then and there to change everything. I was going to relax my control and learn to have fun. If everyone else could do it, so could I. After all, now that my business was sold and my marriage dissolved, I had nothing that really needed my control anymore; I could clearly see that Bobby certainly didn't need my control. He was doing just fine without it. I was kind of happy that I had some part in making him what he is. During all that time spent with him since he was a toddler, I must have had some influence on him or, at least I would like to believe that I did.

Still reeling from the fact that Bobby got us from port to port with apparent ease, I got up to take a shower. He stayed right with me telling me of his experience getting us here as I turned on the water letting it get up to temp. He didn't take the hint that I wanted some privacy and in my new liberal spirit, I let him drone on as I brushed my teeth. I announced that I was going to get into the shower but he prattled on without taking the hint or even taking a breath for that matter. We had showered together many times over the years but not since his metamorphosis. I had to think twice before stripping off my boxers thinking that I would now somehow be embarrassed standing nude before him. Well, he didn't stop talking so I dropped them and bent over to pick them up from the floor but as I stood upright in all my glory I could see his eyes immediately check out my exposed package. I didn't expect that and could have crawled into the closet and closed the door behind me. I felt totally inadequate under his glaring inspection having seen his magnificence of his bulge only the day before. Things didn't get better either. His eyes seemed locked on my crotch and like most contrary emotions my embarrassment morphed into excitement causing my penis to noticeably thicken and come to life. I knew that I would be at full attention in only a few seconds so I jumped into the shower and spun the cold water valve to shock the excitement from my loins. It worked but at the cost of further embarrassment as I shrieked in a loud falsetto as the ice cold water hit my body making Bobby laugh hysterically.

I said, "Bobby, I'll be topside in a few minutes to get breakfast. I'll meet you there," hoping that he would finally take his leave.

He said, "You mean lunch; breakfast was hours ago. Oh, by the way, the dock master said that there is a message for you at the office." Picking up my dirty boxers from the counter top he turned and left taking them with him. I assumed that he was going to throw them in the laundry hamper.

It took only a few minutes for me to shower and throw on a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt since I didn't bother to shave. I went to the galley where Bobby had already fried up some bacon and was frying a couple of eggs while buttering the toast.

I said, "My God, that smells good. I think I'll make some for myself."

"No, this is for you. I ate breakfast before shoving off this morning. I made a sandwich for me. I'll eat with you," he said with the brightest cheer.

I said, "You didn't have to do all of this for me but I am sure glad you did. Thank you!"

We sat and ate together while Bobby filled me in on his great adventure had while I was sound asleep. I was taken by his maturity. He had grown into a man during the interlude in our fraternity. Everything about him belies his tender age. I watched him while he was talking. In fact, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His full red lips, bright white perfectly aligned teeth, piercing blue eyes and chiseled features were almost too perfect to be human. His handsome looks belonged in cinema and could not possibly exist in real life. Every young girl, what am I saying, every female regardless age would be creaming in their panties just by looking at him and judging by our social circle of yesterday, it's not only the women who would be tantalized.

I too was attracted to him and had been struggling with that demon ever since I laid eyes on the new Bobby back at the airport. I clearly released a genie earlier that week in that dark video booth and I now have to deal with reality. The love I feel for Bobby has transformed from friendship to something else just as he had been transfigured. I have to admit to myself that my love for him has grown from fraternal to amorous. Love is not my demon; No, love is pure. This other emotion is not pure. Whatever it is, it's private and secret – for now. That secret is mine and neither he nor anyone else will ever know about it unless I reveal it to them. The demon keeps stirring up a sexual tension between the two of us and it's becoming quite obvious. I can feel it. I'm sure that he feels it. Deep down, I want it and I'm pretty sure he wants it but because of his tender age, it just cannot happen. At 14, he's only a child. Furthermore, he has been entrusted to my care; a trust I cannot violate.

I was sitting there eating my breakfast, with these thoughts running through my head and as a result, sporting an enormous erection hidden from view by the table. If I wasn't going to surrender to physical lust with him, I could at least give in to mental seduction. I was going to indulge my carnal cravings the only way left to me; voyeurism. I focused on his mouth as his tongue danced behind those beautiful teeth and the moisture that coated his lips and accumulated in the crease between them and his gums. I wondered what it would taste like under an ardent kiss. I wondered what it would be like to let our fluids mingle through the passionate connection of our mouths sealed by our quivering lips. I imagined for a moment that I could feel his firm fresh tongue seeking mine as we penetrated each other in an oral embrace. I could almost taste the clean fresh moisture of his mouth. My experience with kissing had never been great and peaked early in my marriage with Lena and steadily waned through the years. Before that, I only dabbled in the art during teenage experimentation with a few girls. It was never a huge turn on for me. It must have been for my teen dates because it got me around the bases with a few of them. Lena needed it. She just couldn't get into sex without it. Kissing had been a perfunctory obligation on my part and only used to get to the good stuff where my penis could get involved. Funny but these revelations are self-inditing and explain why Lena had good reason to want to leave. I wish I had been this aware of hr need for sensuality when we were together.

I put my problems with Lena out of my mind and settled back into a sexual reverie and thoughts of Bobby. My mind bounced back and forth between him and the experience I had in the video booth last week. As I imagined what it would be like to be with Bobby, I remembered the encounter and tremendous sexual excitement of actually being with a man. My daydream was so explicit and real to me that I was nearing climax. I didn't want to blow a load right there at the table so I tried desperately to think of something that would kill the mood but everything eventually ended up in sexually explicit thoughts. Fortunately, Bobby, in his jabber finally circled back to that message he said was waiting for me and added that the message said that the teleconference was moved up to 1 o'clock. Looking at my watch, it was already ten minutes till one and I hadn't prepared a thing for the conferences scheduled for today. My lawyer arranged two of them. One related to a royalty arrangement he cleverly included with the sale of my business and the other with Lena and her lawyer to finalize the divorce. I collected all of my paperwork and explained to Bobby that these conferences were why we had to stop at Fisher Island and not go further south today. I told him that the back to back conferences would take all afternoon and I wouldn't be back until dinnertime. I cautioned him that if he was going to go to the beach that he should use sun block since his skin was as pale as the legal papers in my hands. I apologized for leaving him alone and promised that there would be no other interruptions for the remainder of our voyage and I sprang from the boat to the guest offices at the hospitality center. Needless to say, that was a much bigger diversion than I wanted but it served its purpose and I was able to hold back my essence for at least a little while longer when I could take matters into my own hands, so to speak, and handle it in private.

 

I joined the first teleconference a few minutes late but found that I really had nothing to contribute to the discussion. Josh handled everything but I needed to hear what was said none the less. It didn't really matter because I had to stay around for the big one to follow anyhow. I was dreading that one. I was not in a place where I could deal with the problems of a broken marriage. I didn't want to come down from the high I was having to deal with this emotional burden. I was in a happy place and loving every minute of the time I was spending with Bobby. I wanted badly to get back to him and be with him. Anyway, Lena was as successful, if not more so, in her business than I was with mine so money was not a big issue between us. If we were to split things evenly I would end up getting money from her. We had no kids so what's to discuss; the house?

 

The first conference ended after an hour and a half and Josh then called Lena's lawyer to set up the dreaded conference of doom. To our surprise, Lena called off the conference and stipulated that we had nothing other than the house to distribute and that I could have it and all that was in it. Clearly she had been advised by her attorneys that she had much more to lose than I did and making this offer might quash any claim I had to her fortune. It was fine with me since I had more money than I was ever going to spend and having the house would allow me close proximity to the person I now loved more than anyone else in the world. Despite Josh's protest, I agreed to the offer and directed him to work out the legal details and I would sign the papers when I got back sometime mid-summer.

 

Happy that I didn't have to deal with that problem, I went directly back to the boat to see if Bobby was there. He didn't answer my calls from the deck so I assumed he went to the beach. I headed down to my suite to change into a bathing suit so I could join him. As I got to the bottom of the plush carpeted stairs, I could hear what I thought was moaning and groaning coming from my room. The door was open and I could see the flicker of light reflecting from the mirrors and polished wood paneling and figured that Bobby must have left the TV on. But, as I entered the door, I saw Bobby lying nude on the bed leaning on his left elbow facing away from me. He was twisted at the waist so that his butt was flat on the mattress and he was masturbating himself with his right hand. His long hard penis stuck straight up in the air and was capped by a large pink head with a shape resembling a stylized fireman's helmet. The shaft was long enough to accommodate both of his massive hands but was proudly sticking through his single grip and resembled a telephone pole with a big knob on it. Just like the rest of him, his penis too was perfect. The shaft was long and straight. If he was sitting upright, it would probably reach well above his navel and nearly to his chest. It was circumcised which left a wide band of skin darker than the shaft but lighter than the head separating the two. At the base of the shaft his scrotum strained to contain two large orbs that seemed to be moving of their own accord beneath the dark skin of his pouch. For the moment, his hand was still on his prick while he turned the page of one of my porn books with the other giving me an opportunity to observe first hand the dynamics of his testicles and they slowly moved about with no obvious motivation or purpose.

 

He must have found a picture to his liking because he resumed jerking but with much more vigor than before. I could see that he was bringing himself to climax since his balls began to pull up tight at the bottom of his expanding shaft and his breathing and moaning was getting exaggerated. Amazingly, his penis was actually getting longer as it was getting thicker in preparation for expelling its cargo. His hand slid up closer to the head of his cock so that he was pulling as much skin as he could gather over the frenulum at a rapidly increasing cadence. The head of his cock was so engorged it looked like it would burst wide open but instead, at the peak of engorgement, ejected a massive liquid projectile that elongated as it flew through the air with tremendous velocity until it landed with a perceptible splat on the headboard over Bobby's right shoulder. The thick creamy white ejaculate slid slowly down the headboard indicating its high viscosity as it left an opaque coating behind while it reluctantly conceded to the pull of gravity. The second ejection was even larger and more powerful than the first hitting close to its rival with similar effect. The eruptions continued in force eight more times followed with a few minor spurts culminating in a pulsed flow that never left his cock but ran down over his fingers and along the shaft to pool in the sparse pubic hair at its base. I stood there, ignoring the fact that my bedspread and headboard along with most everything else in my bedroom were covered in semen, and grateful for my good fortune to have been an eye witness to such a beautiful and erotic spectacle.

 

I tried to secretly back out of the doorway hoping that Bobby would never know that I saw him at that most intimate and private moment but as I backed up my elbow hit some golf clubs he had apparently stacked against the jamb causing such a racket that he couldn't help but notice. He turned with his dick still in-hand and screamed like a little girl. It took him several seconds to recognize that it was me at the door and not some stranger but his reaction was just as violent and maybe even more so since he was now mortified in addition to having a surge of adrenaline in his system. As he slid off of the opposite side of the bed to hide his nakedness, his shame turned to anger and he called down the wrath of God upon me and condemned me to eternal damnation. Well, I may be over dramatizing it but he sure was angry. As his shame build up he started to cry and for a brief moment looked like a little boy again. In all of the time I've known him, he never cried from pain but always from embarrassment or when he felt somehow rejected. Alienation from affection has always been his biggest horror.

 

I tried everything to calm him down but nothing worked. I recognized his emotional pain and fear of my rejection. He was probably thinking that since I saw him doing what in his mind was such a vile disgusting thing I would reject him and not want to be around him anymore. I had toyed with the thought of leaving him alone for awhile so he could gather his composure get over it but then I thought that he was still just a child and that leaving him alone may reinforce his fear of abandonment so I walked over to him and bent down to hug him. It was difficult at first because he didn't know what I was doing and he put up a big struggle until he recognized my intentions and gave into my embrace. I pulled him up to his feet and pulled his naked body into mine. His sobbing increased as my embrace became a caress as I slid my hands over the naked flesh of his back. I was torn between giving him compassion and taking my pleasure from him. I knew that I desperately wanted him. I wanted to make love to him. I wanted to take away all of his emotional pain and replace it with the euphoria of pure love – no, of pure pleasure. I wanted the sensual delight of the use of his body in a way that I would never be permitted to indulge. I could sense his susceptibility my advances but knew that sensitivity would diminish as he matures and sorts out his own sexuality which will most likely be directed toward the fairer sex. That reality struck home and hurt me deeply, leaving me very frustrated. If anything were ever going to happen between the two of us, time was of the essence since he, like most other boys his age, would eventually find his sexual identity and harden himself against the choice not taken.

 

I indulged my senses by rubbing and feeling his body as I held tight to me. I could feel the last remnants of his hard-on dissipate as he emptied his emotions onto me. Even though it was now flaccid I could feel the measure of his virility against my abdomen. I could identify the unique feel of his penis opposed to that of his balls. I was thrilled by their mass. I wanted to reach between us and touch them with my hands and bring his cock back to the majesty of its aroused state. I wanted to feel those balls move on their own while in the palm of my hand. I wanted to feel his hot sperm as it splashed along my cock and over the palm of my hand like I had experienced at the gloryhole but, most of all, I wanted a new experience of feeling that sperm squirt into my open mouth and along my tongue so I could taste it before consuming that thick warm fluid. Needless to say, I was fully aroused and totally out of control.

 

I could feel the exchange of love between us but the sexual tension was still reluctantly restrained at our respective boundaries and not being allowed to flow. The pressure within me was immense and I was barely able to prevent a sexual explosion. I had no way of measuring the tension within Bobby until I began to feel his growing boner response to mine as I pressed it against him. I could feel the thickening and ultimate engorgement of his cock as he press into me. I was losing the battle of willpower and happily so.

 

I bent him back and onto the bed while climbing upon him until we were cock to cock. I took control of the situation by grinding against his expanded sex. We had to make a few adjustments to our position until we were both comfortable and able to get full enjoyment from our intimate contact. I began to talk to him as I moved against him to let him know that what he did was not bad and I would not in any way judge him. Talking was really unnecessary considering what I was doing. My actions were speaking louder than words. He could no longer have any doubt about my understanding of the human sex drive and his sexual needs. I clearly had them myself.

 

My penis was still contained by my clothing but his was unencumbered and moving around under my gyrations. I could feel the front of my shorts getting wet from both of our emissions. Even though I loved the feel of our cocks thumping as slid mine up and over his and back again, I was worried that the friction from my clothes might be too harsh and kill his excitement. I didn't want to loose this so I settled into a movement that pressed more than it slid hoping to minimize any painful friction that the fabric of my shorts could cause. The movement was subtle but the effect was not. I could feel my climax approaching and hoped I could bring him off too.

 

I put my mouth near his ear and whispered, "There is nothing you could ever do that would stop me from loving you. I think are wonderful. What I saw was a beautiful and made me excited." Feeling light-headed, I gasped for a breath of air before continuing "We all have to do it... Every guy does... I do it... I love to spill my seed... You need to spill yours too... You..." and before I could get another word out we both burst into orgasm. I regretted not having taken off my clothes so that I could feel the heat and wetness of his sperm against my stomach and chest. I also missed the satisfaction of dumping my seed on him. I remembered the gratification of shooting my sperm onto Lena's face or tits when she was menstruating and she wouldn't let me penetrate her. It was a feeling very different from intercourse but better than jerking off and fulfilling in its own way. I loved to watch my sperm shoot onto her skin. I love it more when I could shoot it into her mouth. I loved to see the jets of sperm fly through the air. Deprived of the visual, I had to settle for the feel of my sperm as it poured into my boxers and soaked my crotch. Not seeing my own, I rose up to look down between us to see the sperm shoot out of Bobby's enormous pole again and was greeted with a solid shot to my chin, across my lips and into my nose. I was hoping for another shot like that but as a result of his cumming only minutes before, none of the remaining spurts had enough energy to make it that far but instead pooled on his rippled abs. When we finally stopped cumming, I was left suspended over him by my arms with a large dollop of sperm dripping off of the tip of my nose. I couldn't resist the temptation to taste it but didn't want Bobby to see me doing it so I rolled off of him and as my back turned from him, extended my tongue and captured the dangling splooge and returned to slurp the remnants from my lips and chin too. I was a bit shocked by the delicate taste since I was expecting a strong and maybe disgusting flavor. It wasn't that way at all. The reaction on my tongue was as if the sperm was salty but it didn't really taste like salt. The taste and the sensation defied description. You would have to actually experience having sperm in your mouth to know what I am talking about. I swallowed to clear my mouth but it just wouldn't go down. It was so thick that it seemed to coat everything, my tongue, my mouth, my throat, everything. Once it got down my throat, I did notice a mild and exciting aftertaste as I breathed similar to that after eating Lena's cunt; especially after I ate her after she was really turned on; Similar but not the same. This was the taste of Bobby and it was a clean and wholesome taste and one that has left me wanting more.

 

I looked down at Bobby whose torso was covered with sperm pooled at every ripple in his muscles. I wanted to dive down and slurp it all up but I didn't want to shock or disgust him. I was intrigued that I, myself, was not disgusted by my behavior. I was forewarned though of this back at that gloryhole when the desire to taste sperm almost overtook me. Now that I have sampled it I feel compelled to go for more. I wanted more than a taste. I wanted to experience it, the whole thing. I wanted to take it right from its source. I wanted the heat, the sensation, the volume of a full orgasm directed into my mouth. I knew by looking at Bobby's beautiful cock that it he would eventually be the source.

 

I laid my hand in the pool of sperm on his belly and slowly rubbed it in circles feeling the texture as it slid against his skin. I made larger and larger circles until I had captured all that he had deposited on himself. Being completely spent, his penis had retreated to a smaller but not unsubstantial size as it lay askew on his lower abdomen. I rubbed all around it but avoided direct contact. I had all I could do not to touch it but my resolve was returning as sanity re-emerged and I realized that I had to stop. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Everything is ok! You did nothing wrong; everything we just did was normal and nothing to feel shamed about... Are you OK?"

 

He closed his eyes and whispered, "Yea" and appeared to be drifting off to sleep. The sperm that I smeared all over his body was drying and beginning to loose its sheen. Seeing him like that rekindled my excitement and I could feel my cock re-harden as it slid through the still wet cum in my underwear. This growing perversion of mine had to end right then and there. I stepped into the bathroom, stripped off my soiled clothes and took a shower to wash away the filth from my body and symbolically, the filth of my behavior.

 

After drying off and putting on some clean clothes, I stepped back into the bedroom and attempted to clean up the mess. I wiped the dried sperm from the headboard with a wet washrag but held off changing the bed linen so not to disturb Bobby's rest. I picked up the porn magazines he had been using and was surprised that his selections were all gay porn. The one he was jerking off to was laying open to the image that drove him over the top. Interestingly, it was a picture of an older man with his fat dick inserted into the asshole of a handsome slim young boy getting fucked doggie style. Clearly this proclivity wasn't only mine.

 

I took the DVD out of the player and turned off the TV. I debated about what to do to finish cleaning up since the pheromones which kept me excited and strong smell of sex were still in the air. I considered waking Bobby to have him take a shower but thought it would be best to let him sleep and maybe dream about what we had just done. Before going topside, I briefly watched Bobby as he lie there sleeping. I tried to reconcile my behavior and reach way down inside to find the resolve to resist my desire for him for the remainder for the trip. Only time would tell if I would be successful.