Date: Thu, 28 May 2009 16:47:13 -0400 From: Rocco Talespinner Subject: Catching an Eel in Maine I was a tourist in Maine, having arrived the afternoon before, and was walking on the dock of a fishing village where guys were doing all sort of things on their boats. It was clearly hard work but they all seemed to be enjoying their labors, with lots of banter. As I walked among them, dressed pretty much like the younger ones, in jeans, sneakers, and a T, this older guy nodded at me in greeting and I responded with a verbal reply. He was alone on his boat and we started chatting. He seemed pretty friendly and after awhile he asked would I like to go catch an eel. To be honest, I had no clue what these guys fished for, other than the famous Maine lobsters, and to be really honest I hadn't a clue where one gets eels or even what they look like. But I was eager for an authentic taste of Maine, so I said yes. He said, "Get in," and he started up the motor of his boat. Too late I realized I hadn't asked how long he meant to be gone or how far out we were going, but I figured nothing beyond the normal for a fisherman would be at stake. So, as we rode out on the bay, I was enjoying the breeze but now regretting I didn't have a jacket. He and I talked a bit, but the longer we were out on the water the less he had to say. In fact, he became pretty taciturn and I began to feel awkward about being with him. We sped out toward a little island, dotted with conifers standing above the rocky shore. No sign of houses or inhabitants. As we approached, he turned so as to maneuver the boat around the island. And then we continued, until we were on the other side. The village we had left was totally blocked from view. He pulled into a cove and, about 200 feet off the shore, He killed the motor and threw out an anchor. I figured, ahh, so now we're gonna go after an eel. I asked how we were to do it, but he didn't reply. He also didn't reach for any equipment, so I was puzzled. He faced away from me and fidgeted with his jeans, so I guessed maybe he was taking a leak first. Instead, he turned around, his cock hanging out and him leaning on the gunwale [l learned that term later], just looking at me. "What's this about?" I asked, with a tremor in my voice. "I thought we were gonna fish for eel." He sort of snorted and replied, "I asked if you wanted to catch an eel. Well, here it is. Catch it." "Man, I had no idea you meant anything like this. I've never messed with a man before in my life." He stared at me, with a stern expression on his face, "Well, there's always a first time, and this is it for you. Let me be frank, buddy, We ain't goin' nowhere in this boat till you have caught this eel and landed it. You can protest or you can jump out and swim, but even if you're a strong swimmer you wouldn't last long in this icy water. So I recommend that you get with it, so we can head back to the harbor." Deep down I suppose I would never have struck up an exchange with him in the first place if I hadn't admired his manly manner and the hairy chest under his jacket. I can't really say that he had made my cock tingle, but I recognized now that he had picked up on something I hadn't been aware of revealing, or even consciously feeling. This whole situation was completely outlandish, and yet, for sure, it was a real-life dilemma. So, after hesitating a moment, I thought, what the hell, and went over to him. I knelt on the deck because that was the only way to get to him in that standing position. As my face neared his crotch I could detect a spicy male odor, not really so bad, actually. Tentatively I leaned over and just barely licked his cock with the tip of my tongue. He grabbed my head and pressed my face to his crotch, his cock against my cheek and my nose buried in his bush. "Catch that eel, son, or we're gonna be out here a long time." I could not believe I was about to take a man's cock into my mouth, but then it happened, and once it happened -- strange to say -- it was like it was no big deal after all. There was, in fact, nothing especially weird about it. [Straight guys who're hyper about not sucking dick don't know that.] So I sucked and gradually moved further and further down his shaft, 'til I was pressing my lips hard against his pelvis. "You learn fast, bud," he growled. "Now, give me some real action." So it went, my first blowjob, er, eel catch. After awhile he held my head and fucked my face. Then he grunted and groaned and there was suddenly a load of strangely sweet and salty goo in my mouth, which he told me I had better swallow if I knew what was good for me. I sucked until he softened; then, he pulled out and zipped up his jeans. "Congratulations, son, on catching that eel. You're a natural fisherman." With that he started up the motor and we sped back across the water, saying nothing. Before too long we pulled alongside the dock in the village. As I climbed out of the boat I faced silent grinning stares from the other fisherman and some of them laughed out loud, especially the younger guys. "Oh shit! They know!" I muttered to myself, as I strode off the dock. But then nobody seemed to give fat rat's ass either. "My first full morning on vacation," I reflected, "and I've already had a taste of Maine."