Voyage to Paradise

Part 1 A Forlorn Hope

We were just pulling up to the dock after an exhilarating sea trial of the beautiful Viking Princess 64 Flybridge motor yacht that I was now convinced to buy. The nearly two million dollar price tag for this baby had put me off until my life-changing experience of just shy of 12 months ago. The love of my life, my beautiful wife Lena abandoned me after 16 years of what I assumed was a happy marriage. I guess I assumed wrongly since she took off with a young buck that she had apparently been seeing for a number of years during a period in our marriage that I felt was cozy and comfortable. I was at the top of my game with my business and we had money and friends to spare. The business was running fluidly and I had a strong man now at the helm giving me a needed break from the day to day demands of growing a business. I was spending more time at home and leisure than I had ever done before. Her infidelity was the last thing I would have expected since I thought, as a couple; we were on top of the world. Things just could not be better. Again, it was a bad assumption on my part. Apparently, my business instincts were far keener than those of romance. At any rate, now that I was alone, I resolved to enjoy the wealth I had accumulated by selling my business and adopting a full time life of leisure. This boat was the first step in making that happen. I put those empty feelings and bad thoughts out of my head as we tied up and took one last tour of the boat to go over the short list of items that needed to be resolved before I closed the deal. The items were minor and would only take a few days to remedy and with a fresh coat of wax and interior detailing I could take delivery in about a week and begin my new care free life.

As I waited, alone in my hotel suite during the week it took for the work to be done, I was overcome by the realization that I was lonely. I had been alone many times before on business trips and the like but I was never lonely. I always knew that Lena was there waiting for me. I could always call her on the phone; exchange emails with her; brag about her to the people I meet but, most of all, I could return to her when my trip was over. There was always someone there to love me and for me to love. I was hit by the realization; that was no longer the case. I began to spiral down into a pool of self pity. At first, I could raise my spirits by going out on the balcony of my suite and gaze at the countless number of yachts docked in the marinas along the Ft Lauderdale waterway for several miles in either direction. I used my binoculars to examining the more exotic boats underway and observe the good-life as it was being celebrated by those onboard. The more I watched, the more I realized that it was people who were having fun. This was not a solo endeavor. The enjoyment was a communal activity requiring at least two people and the level of fun appeared to increase exponentially with the number of people participating. My first thought was that I was going to need a larger boat but as reality sunk in, I realized that, for now, I needed only one other person to share my joy with and the trials and tribulations with my new boat or, more accurately, my new life.

I scaled down my requirement for company because I was not confident enough in my abilities as a skipper of a boat this size to invite a lot of people to go to sea with me. I wasn't a total novice having had several boats through my life; a 46 footer being the most recent and largest but I wanted to gt my sea legs first before going totally public. I was missing Lena. I wished she was here with me to share this experience. If only I had done this sooner. I should have paid closer attention to her needs rather than spending all of my time building a business. By the time I was able to devote some attention to her, it was too late. I should have seen the signs but I was too wrapped up in my financial success to notice her pain or desire. As I think about it, our intimacy had waned over the last four or five years of our marriage. Sex was totally absent during the final year of our union. Our early years were passionate and marked by long and frequent sessions of ardent love making. It was obvious that Lena needed the physical contact for assurance of my love for her. I, on the other hand, was in it for the fun and pleasure it gave me. We spent a lot of time at it. There were a few times when we spent an entire weekend having sex. I'm not bragging, but I once climaxed eleven times in one day followed by eight on the next. As for Lena, there was no counting the number of her orgasms. She could have a dozen or more just while we were copulating. She didn't have to build up in a single crescendo but hit he peaks in a staccato of strong and vocal orgasms that left her utterly exhausted by the time I reached my singly climax. Amazingly, she, feeling the pulse of my ejaculation, would burst into a violent orgasm on the order of magnitude far exceeding the sum of those she had all during penetration. Her reaction to oral sex was just as animated. She could get off by having her nipples sucked or even rubbed. The lower I went on her body, the easier it was for me to make her climax. Her clit was ultra sensitive and she would have repeated orgasms as long as I kept licking it. Now that I am thinking of it, she was extremely sensual and hyper sexual. Why in the world did I let that slip away from me? I was missing her so much and I was getting myself turned on by these thoughts. My penis was standing at attention and struggling to get out of the confines of my shorts. This was a call to action that I could not ignore. I hadn't felt this horny in a long while. At 20 stories up, I felt powerful and yet invisible so I shucked off my Bermudas and boxers leaving me exposed to the world but safely obscure. The warm breeze felt wonderful on my genitals and I could feel the moisture from my sweat evaporate in the wind. A slight gust from the wind tickled my penis and scrotum and I could feel my pubic hairs tousled by the draft. I thought I was going to climax just by the sensation of being nude from the waist down. Giving in, I stripped off my shirt and kicked off my flip-flops to enjoy the feeling of total nudity. It was an invitation for everyone in the Ft Lauderdale area to look up at me and see my naked body. Looking down, I could see that my penis was hard and bouncing with the rapid pulse of my heart beat. It was as large as I had ever seen it and weeping viscous tears as it was crying for relief. I reached to grant it mercy but the sum total of these new sensations ignited my fury even before my hand arrived and sperm erupted and gracefully arced over the railing as it plummeted to the pool area below. It spurted eight more times into the open air while I moved closer and closer to allow my potent fluid to vault over the rail and anoint anyone below upon whom it landed. Somehow, the thought of my sperm hitting some anonymous person below was exhilarating. As the dregs of sperm oozed from the tip of my penis it could only pool on the top of the railing where the head of my penis lay lacking the energy to leap into the air beyond. I stood there feeling the cool of the aluminum beneath my cock, relieved and amazed at what I had just done.

I enjoyed that high for quite some time and stayed naked on the balcony for about an hour peering at the near naked people on the boats below somehow wishing they could see me standing here in all of my glory. I was very proud of my body since I have always exercised and eat a healthy and moderate diet. I wouldn't mind showing it off in public but, until this moment, the thought of doing that never entered my mind. After picking up my clothes and re-entering my room, the lonely feeling again returned. I may have been naked but I was 20 stories in the air where absolutely nobody could see me unless they knew I was there and they had a pair of binoculars. The reality was that I was all alone in a hotel room and no prospect of finding companionship any time soon.

I toyed with the thought of going down to the lounge or to a nightclub to try to pick up a woman but I just couldn't bring myself to do that. I have never done that pick-up thing and in fact, never even dated anyone but Lena. I didn't know where to begin. Abandoning that thought, I went down to dinner and sat at the only table available which, of course, was set for six. I had to endure while the busboy noisily removed all of the dishes, silverware, glasses, and napkins leaving me with the overlarge table empty except for an enormous centerpiece before me. Funny, but I felt like I was sitting there naked and everyone was watching me but it was having the opposite effect from my earlier adventure.

Looking around, I noticed a number of attractive women and several interesting men but all of them were paired up as couples or part of an even number group. My chances for companionship were dashed. Even if one of them was at all interested in meeting me, the fact that I was the center of attention in the room and kind of a spectacle made it difficult to make meaningful contact with anyone. As I looked around the room, ladies would demure and men would divert their gaze to avoid mine. Turning my head to view the entire room created a wave effect like you would see at a college football game. I made up my mind to contact someone that I was comfortable with to accompany me on my first voyage rather than try to meet a stranger since I am so uncomfortable with the process.

When I returned to my room, I sat on the sofa and wracked my brain for someone to call. All of the men I knew well enough to call friend had job commitments and all of them were married and would never be able to get away for a couple of weeks or more. The women were all friends of Lena's or wives of the guy's I know. Not being a philanderer, I really didn't know any available women. Even though I would very much enjoy and even crave sex on my boat, it is not likely to happen. God! I wish that I had some experience seducing women. How was I ever going to survive if the only sex I ever get was by my own hand?

It was then that I remembered Bobby. He's the kid next door and, if I ever had a best friend, it would be him. He and I do everything together. Without children of my own, I kind of adopted him; no, befriended him. He has a father; a good dad for which I am no substitute. But, as friends, we couldn't be closer. Since he was a small boy, he was over my house more than he was at his own. We played pool together and swam in my pool together. We'd go fishing and camping together and I sponsored and at one time coached his soccer team. Bobby is now14 years old and is about to begin summer break at school. What better way for him to spend his summer than cruising around the Florida Keys? I can't believe that I didn't think of inviting him before this. It was only last week that I took him to a local gun show where I bought a WWII Mauser sniper rifle for collection we two are assembling. He is a very mature and responsible kid and well schooled in firearms and firearm safety. He is definitely reliable and the kind of kid you love to be with. Moreover, his parents trust me with him. We have always had a healthy and stable relationship.

I immediately called his mother to ask if she would allow him to come to Florida with me and spend a couple of weeks on my boat. I was a bit nervous as I dialed the phone thinking that she would never allow him to be so far away and on a boat in the ocean for God's sake. The sound of the first ring shot terror through me for fear of rejection of my plan. The second brought even more fear – Was I too desperate? Three more rings followed and I actually began to feel faint. I was about to hang up when a deep male voice answered, "Hello!".

"Hey Bobby, It's Matt! How are you doing? Is your mom there?" I said with a quaver from nervous anticipation.

"Hi Matt, I'm great. Did you get the new boat? I can't wait to see it. I hope you let me pilot..." he went on in the staccato of youthful speach.

"Sorry buddy but I need to speak with your mom. Is she there?" I interrupted, anxious to get the encounter with Laura over and done with.

"Yea, she is. Are you going to ask her if I can come down to see it? Are you?" He said with his newly baritone voice breaking into an occasional falsetto with his growing excitement.

Impatiently, I barked, "Just put her on the line!"

Laura got on the line and I got right to the point, "Can Bobby join me down here for a few weeks on my new boat?" I fully expected her to say no since I knew how obsessive she was and that, in her mind Bobby's summer schedule with soccer camp and music camp were top priorities, not to mention their scheduled family vacation but I knew that Bobby's excitement over the new boat would trump all of that in his mind but definitely not in hers. She and I went round and round on the subject for the better part of an hour. In a desperate attempt to end it, I promised that I would get him back in time for band camp and I would arrange for him to get into amore advanced soccer camp later in the summer and also pay for the camp he would miss. I knew she didn't care about the money since both she and her husband were extremely successful top executives and had money to burn. All I wanted, or should I say needed, was two weeks of Bobby's companionship. I knew I was unable to hide the desperation of my loneliness but that is probably what won the day for me. I could hear Jacob, Bobby's dad in the background chiming in on the conversation. I'm sure Bobby pulled him into it to get support for his cause and, of all people; Jacob knew of how hard the breakup of my marriage was on me. Finally, he took the phone from Laura and said to me, "Hi Matt! It's Ok for Bobby to join you for a couple of weeks. I think it would be a great experience for him. Sometimes a person has to take a break from the rigors of a structured life. I think he's due. I'll take the flack here on the home front. Just have him back here in time for our vacation. We will be leaving on Sunday July 16^th for Peru so he will have to be back, at least, a few days before that."

I could almost feel the tension welling up between Jacob and Laura and was happy that I was not there in person. But, I got what I wanted and I was relieved and deeply happy. I told Jacob that I would make all arrangements and send him the details via email and with that ended one of the most consequential phone calls I had ever made.

Bobby still had a few days before school ended and I had a lot of provisioning to do on the boat so I sent word and arranged his flight for the coming Sunday giving him time to pack and prepare. After that, I headed out to get food, drink, and some things to entertain us when we are alone at night. I was really enjoying the shopping spree but kind of saturated the boats coffers within the first day of shopping and was looking at almost a week before Bobby would join me.

I took the boat out every day to get experience with this larger vessel and to familiarize myself with the waterways. Certainly the Ft Lauderdale area was not where we wanted to be. Sure, it had a lot of neat places for land-lubbers but not for seafarers. We needed to set out for desert beaches and palm trees surrounding sleepy lagoons so I charted a trip down along the keys hoping to find something close to meting those grand expectations. Things looked god on my charts but I doubted we would find anything like I wanted considering the number of marinas and ports along the keys.

Amazingly, it only took me three days to get all of that done and I was sitting on the flydeck with nothing productive to do. Even though it was still late morning, I got myself a scotch with ice and settled back into the pilot's seat and put my bare feet up on the console. I slowly sipped and thoroughly enjoyed my drink and everything around me. The boats that were leaving had already gone out in the morning and It seemed that I was all alone in the marina. My mind began to wander and when that happens, it always ends up at the place of my biggest frustration and currently, that frustration was sex.

Giving into my fantasies, I reminisced about some of the more heated lovemaking sessions between Lena and I. I quickly got hard and knew I needed to get some relief. I toyed with the idea of taking care of the problem right there in open view of the entire marina but soon gave that idea up realizing that, unlike the twentieth floor of the hotel, the flydeck was just too public and conspicuous. I then thought of going to my stateroom but decided that I didn't want to defile my new boat. I thought it may bring bad luck upon my boat. Funny that, I never remember being superstitious before but I just didn't want to ruin a good thing.

I left the boat and headed into town to find an adult book store where I might find a video booth to jerk off in. I even considered renting a room in a motel just to have a place to wack off. That fortunately was unnecessary since I eventually found an adult book store. It was miles from Ft Lauderdale and frighteningly seedy looking but the call of nature overrode my revulsion for the place. I entered the surprisingly brightly lit and relatively neat shop. I was at first disappointed thinking I would not find a haven for relief but immediately spied the telltale black curtain in the double doorway at the rear of the shop. Not wanting to appear too eager, as if anyone in there cared, I began to peruse the merchandise. There were books, magazines, DVD's, and for lack of a better generic definition, marital aids everywhere. I slowly worked my way to the back but took note of some things that may be good to have for when Bobby leaves and I am all alone again; so much for not wanting to defile my boat.

Eventually, I passed through the curtain into the video both area where it took some time for my eyes to adjust to the absolute dark. I bumped into someone while still blinded by the shock to me eyes and thought I felt someone grab or, at least brush firmly against my crotch. Whomever that was, was treated to a nice fluffy package since I was well on my way to getting hard in anticipation of giving myself a good handjob. So as not to bump into anyone else who was in there, I worked my way over to a wall and stood there until my vision slowly returned. Eventually I was able to see that there were several people in the room with me and that I could see the glow of light coming from under the doors of many of the booths that lined either side of the corridor before me where men were prowling about, obviously testing if the closed doors were locked or maybe looking for an invited by the occupant. I didn't have a lot of experience with these places but had, in the past, used the solitude of a booth at a bookstore back home to satisfy my sexual urge by my own hand. I don't remember seeing a lot of people mulling about in that store but maybe I was there during a off-hour or possibly I was not paying attention. Regardless, I wanted to get this thing over or at least started. It is funny how a man's mind goes right to his climax and ignores the pleasure he would have in getting there. I wonder if women think differently about that. Shit! I guess I'll never find that out. I clearly don't know how women think or what they think or else I wouldn't be in this pickle, would I?

I darted into the nearest booth where the ones on either side were already occupied and reached for some singles to put into the bill slot. All I had was a five and didn't want to run that gauntlet again so I put it in thinking I would be long finished before my time ran out. The machine whirled, clicked and clunked and eventually, the screen lit up displaying an enormous penis filling the entire screen across its diagonal. It was clearly being jerked off by a hand that appeared to be its owner's. I had never really looked at gay porn or concentrated on the male parts in the porn that I did look at. I was transfixed by it and to my surprise, turned on. I sprung into erection immediately looking at it. Having never really examined a penis other than casually looking at my own as I used it, I was fascinated at seeing the structure of it. This shaft was massive and I could see every vein and ripple of the skin as it was stretched taught with every down stroke and then gathered in wrinkles as the hand pulled the skin to surplus on the up stroke. The mechanism of movement of skin over ridged shaft was amazing. The hand moved up and down very slowly but never fully reaching the smooth and swollen metus. From this, I assumed that it was circumcised since my own experience was similar. When I was in a state as hard as this guy, I ran out of skin before I could reach the head of my cock. In a less excited state, I could easily pull my skin over the head. I assumed that guys that were uncircumcised could pull their foreskins over the top at any stage of masturbation but this was only a guess. Staring at the cock on the screen, I realized that a clear drop of precum was forming at the tip. I got so excited at this that I quickly exposed my own cock and joined in on the fun with my own stroking. I was already at the point of leakage and could feel the lubrication spreading over my cockhead and down shaft with each of my strokes. My juices were soon flowing enough to be dripping in a long clear string heading to the floor. I could feel my climax welling an suddenly forced myself to stop. I looked around and tried every trick I could think of to get my mind off of sex and halt the orgasmic crescendo.

I looked around the booth so as not to look at the screen and was surprised to find a rather large hole in the wall about crotch high. Even to me, it was clear what its purpose was. I guess I heard about gloryholes but never actually saw one before. I could see the glow of the video screen next door through the hole and realized that someone was standing there only a couple of feet away and we were not isolated from each other. This was a day of firsts for me and I could not resist the temptation of experiencing one more. I cautiously bent over until I could see feet clad only in flipflops. As I bent over deeper, I could see his bare calves and then his naked thighs. When I got to see his hips, I realized that he was naked at least from the waste down. I rocked back and up away from the hole trying not to be observed but I was too late. The guy had noticed my interest and I could see as his feet turned to face the hole and each step as he slowly approached it.

My flight instinct was kicking in and I was about to spring out of the booth when the hole in the wall darkened and a penis similar to the one I was just gawking at on the screen appeared only inches from me. I was frozen in place but could not tear my eyes off of the large and, by my own admission, beautiful phallus suspended in midair before me. I didn't know what to do next. I had obviously given up the idea of flight which was a kind of surrender to this obviously homosexual situation. So, now what do I do? I really had no idea what to do but my instincts were to reach out and touch it, examine it, feel it. I was clearly curious but everything in my life to date told me that homosexuality was wrong and forbidden. I publicly bashed the gay culture with every opportunity that was presented. All of the guys did it. It was something to distance yourself from. It was totally unacceptable.

Despite all of those gay bashing thoughts running through my mind, I was, as they say, curious. I had never seen another man's erect penis in person before, let alone so close. It was pulsing with excitement and weeping sexual lubricant just like my own. I had briefly lost the intensity of my erection with my trepidation but it returned bigger and harder than ever as this live-action scene developed before my eyes. This thing was truly something of unquestionable beauty. Its size and form were to be admired but the complexion of the skin and variations of skin tone were something I never before appreciated. Hell. I never even thought of appreciating a cock other than my own before. What was happening to me? Has loneliness driven me to this or am I inherently gay?

The guy, apparently impatient with me, started to slowly thrust his hips at me and the penis appeared to get even larger as it approached. This was a clear invitation: no, command to me to touch his cock. He was ordering me to give him pleasure as I would give to myself. He was ordering me to relieve him of his sexual burden of thick hot sperm. Wow! How did I get this far along on a path I would have considered perverse only minutes before? The compulsion to indulge in this was overpowering. I was losing this battle and powerless to resist. I slowly reached out my hand until it gently contacted the warm phallus before me and it immediately swelling to an even larger state. I let my fingers glide first down the shaft until I felt the course pubic hairs against my finger and then slowly retraced my path back up the shaft until I felt the change of texture of the skin under my fingers change as I approached the head. It began to feel smooth to the touch when my fingers were abruptly stopped by the prodigious rim of his metus. Bring my fingers over the rim and onto the cockhead I pressed my thumb on the other side and gently squeezed it to test its firmness and in the process, I discovered its silky smooth texture. I closed my hand around the tip and felt the ooze wet my palm. The heat, the texture, the wetness, and just the realization of what I was doing nearly brought me to orgasm. My cock was pulsing at a steep angle with excitement and clear fluid was flowing down along my shaft and onto my shorts. I could see the dark stain that had formed without me being aware. At that moment though, I was too consumed with what I was doing to care but even then I realized that I was going to be embarrassed when I had to parade this large obvious stain on the front of my shorts when I left. I was too far gone to do anything about it and I just let the stain grow as I played with the strange cock in my hand.

The feeling and experience of massaging this cock, was far more exhilarating than anything I ever felt when abusing myself. In fact, at that moment, I was thinking it was actually more exciting than any sexual encounter I ever experienced at any time in my life. Admittedly, those experiences, although frequent, were very limited in scope and were all exclusively heterosexual.

Surrendering to the moment I began to slide my grip down and back up his shaft to give him the best handjob I could muster. With all my years of personal experience, this part was not foreign to me and I gave it my best. As I collected the drool from the tip and spread it along the shaft and the friction eased making my movements almost effortless. I was amazed by the amount of leakage from the cock when I realized that I was matching it drop for drop and maybe even more. I could feel my body tremble uncontrollable with excitement from this new experience. This was bad. It was totally wrong. It was taboo to my culture but I was enjoying it immensely. I could feel the rigidity under my grasp wax and wane in a cycle that building to release. This thing in my hand was alive and belonged to some anonymous person hidden from me by this black matte wall. I was thoroughly enjoying a most embarrassing act but no one could see me. I continued with my ministrations until the shaft reached a monstrous size, larger than I thought any penis could be, when I realized that the whole thing was coming to an end. And, then it happened. I could feel the contraction along the underside of the shaft and observed the reward for my effort spring from the expanded slit at its tip and thick white sperm flew across the space between to splash along my own cock. It was like hot lava landing on me. My reaction was reflexive as I erupted in sympathetic orgasm. Sperm shot out of my cock hitting my wrist and cascading onto the cock in my hand adding to the lubricant under my grasp. I continued stroking and the monster in my grip continued to erupt. Volley after volley sprang forth and coated my cock and the front of my pants. The sensation of this soup splattering on me was overpowering bringing me almost to collapse. The warmth and the feel of another mans sperm on me was exquisite. At that moment I felt like I wanted to be immersed in cum. I wanted to feel it all over my body. Unable to control my emotions, I evened imagined having it deposited inside my body. That last fantasy shocked me back to the present and signaled the end of my emissions but the shaft in my hand continued to convulse even though the spurts had dwindled to drops and ultimately to ooze and then it ceased. I could feel the intensity rapidly flow out of the hard shaft as it retreated from hard to firm to soft before it was withdrawn from my hand by its owner and eventually from my view.

I stood there in shock at what I had just done but with a feeling of ultimate sexual satisfaction. As first experiences often are, this was captivating. It was new and exciting and something I was afraid, no, sure that I was going to do again. I looked at all of the sperm that covered me. It was all over the front of my pants making my original wet spot look inconspicuous. It was running down my legs and all over my Dockers. I was enrobed in his semen. My forearm and hand were coated in a combination of his and my sperm and the slimy mess shone brightly in the reflected light from the video screen. Just then, my five dollars worth of viewing expired and the screen went blank leaving me in darkness. The dim message on the screen directing the occupant to insert money did not give enough light to allow me to sort out and correct my predicament so I had to insert another five and not without contaminating my shorts even more as I pulled it out of my pocket. As the light from the video screen returned I was able to take stock in my predicament in an attempt to work out a plan.

My assessment was that I was in real trouble. That guy had dumped more sperm on me than I thought it was possible to produce and that was made worse by some of my own splooge. I had nothing with me to wipe off the mess. There were no paper towels in the holder that was thoughtfully placed there for just such an occasion but someone before me exercised that privilege leaving me helpless. I didn't even have a handkerchief with me thinking it unnecessary in these warm climes.

Desperate, I continued to survey the damage and became fascinated with the cum now dripping off of my hand. I don't know what made me do it but I unconscientiously brought my hand up and slurped the mess into my mouth I was immediately aware of a strange sensation rather than a taste as it spread across my tongue. It took control of me as I went back to lick off as much cum as I could get from my hand and wrist. Surprisingly, there was quite a bit still there as my mouth was flooded with the viscous liqueur causing me to reflexively swallow what pooled on my tongue. My throat immediately reacted to the invasion and I coughed and coughed before I could get it down. But with that done, the aftertaste was intoxicating. It was subtle but distinct and persistent. It stayed with me and incited me to go after more. I eventually licked my hand and arm clean off all of the musky slop. I kind of rationalized what I was doing in that it was mostly my own cum but deep down, the real titillation was in experiencing someone else's essence.

It was kind of an awakening as I realize the gravity my indiscretion and escalating perversity. This was just not me and I was overcome with a sick feeling of mortification. I had to stop myself and get out of this place but even with this realization, I knew that there was not going to be a permanent end to this. The intensity; the thrill of my accidental tryst was now burned into my libido and psyche. I was never going to escape its grasp. However, I had to do something about my situation so I could get out of this place. I looked down to take inventory of my troubles and noticed a familiar flickering of the light pouring in through the hole into the adjacent booth. I dreaded that a cock will eventually appear at the hole because I knew I didn't have the willpower to resist. I would repeat my actions or worse. I had to act now. I stripped off my shorts and underwear to use them to as a cum rag to wipe up my mess. I rubbed the slim from the front of my shorts resulting in a massive dark wet stain all over the front. I wiped the drying cum off of my legs and shoes. I could feel that cum had slid down int my right shoe making my bare foot slip and slide about inside my shoe. I decided that I liked the feeling and left the slop in there to enjoy. I cleaned up my legs and ankles and threw the scummy undergarment into the corner of the booth and darted out of the door before the inevitable penetration of the glory hole by another needy prick.

I was Ok while I was still in the darkness of the video area but had to get up enough courage to go back out through the bright bookstore. I stood at the curtain and steeled myself for the journey and hastened through the doorway. There were far more people in there than when I came in but I pressed on anyway but it felt like they moved that front door twice as far away than when I entered. I made it outside and jumped right ito my car. I was about to leave when I remembered all of the items I thought I would get for my post Bobby period. This place was the only one I could find and I doubted I'd find it again so I wanted to go back in and buy some porn. Looking down I thought I didn't look too bad. My shorts were clearly stained but that could be from me spilling a drink in my lap. The hairs on my legs were glued in weird unexplainable patterns but I thought I would just brazen it out. I went back into the store but had second thoughts about perusing the racks with all of those customers which included several women. Looking at the counter closest to the cashier, I noticed grab-bags of apparently used or out of date, if there is such a thing with porn, material and zeroed in on those. There was a large plastic bag full of triple x porn magazines topped with a couple of clearly well used paperback porn novels; again if the term novel is appropriate. I grabbed it and a similar package of porn DVD's and paid more than I thought they were worth but it allowed me to get out of there quickly. While paying for my booty I noticed a neat looking clear rubbery sleeve that was obviously to be used as a masturbation aid, hanging on the display board behind the counter. I told the clerk to include the device in my cache. He suggested that I also buy a box of assorted aids he was offering as a special deal. To speed up my exit, I said, "Sure, throw that in too," and paid him in cash. I was not sure just what I bought but if it was valued by weight, it was well worth it. I through the packages onto the passenger seat before buckling up and heading back to the marina.

Getting back on the boat, I went directly to the master suite and dumped my haul on the king sized bed. I was eager to look at everything but as I removed my shorts that had become stiff from the dried sperm, I realized that I was beginning t stink. I sloughed of the rest of my things and dove into the shower. The hot steamy shower allowed me to relax and reflect upon what had happened to me that day. Foe awhile, I struggled with my indiscretion and risky behavior. I became angry with myself and struggled with what this single event meant to me. While dissecting my feelings, I revisited my actions which lead me to ribaldry. I examined my every action and when I got to thinking about the moment I made contact with another man's sex organ, the analysis evolved to reverie and those same feelings of excitement enveloped me and my penis sprang to a painful erection. I reached down and grasped my dick and realized that the feeling was different than what I was use to. I was now very much aware of the temperature of my overheated cock and the different textures of its skin as I moved my hand from tip to base. I was never before aware of the subtle sensations associated with masturbation. I took the vilest most repulsive act of my life to awaken me to these pleasures that would have remained undiscovered had I not masturbated another man's penis. Funny but when I was actually doing it I didn't really associate that beautiful phallus with a man. It was totally disassociated from a person. I didn't have to deal with a personality or appearance. I could focus entirely upon the beautiful cock, what I was doing to it, and how it was reacting to my touch and not how he was reacting. Without all of that psyche oriented junk it was pure sensation. Love and emotion were removed from the equation. It was unencumbered lust. I could just concentrate on my feelings and not have to worry about anyone else at that moment.

In replaying my actions in my head, those feelings and sensations through my head raised me to even greater heights of excitement than earlier. The vision burned into my mind of all that sperm shooting out of that cock and the sexually searing contact and it hit my own cock brought me over the top and I sprayed an enormous load of cum on the shower door. I pulsed and pulsed as sperm splat against the glass and I watched it cascade to the shower floor only to be swept away with the teaming spray of water from the showerhead. Exhausted, I finished my shower, dried myself off and flopped onto the bed a little disappointed that I had shot my wad before I examined my new stash of porn. As curious as I was, I was not going to be able to make use of the material any time soon.

After a brief nap, I did take the time to review and stash my porn. There was some bonus material in there and a couple of items that worried me. If I were a betting man, these packaged deals were items confiscated in raids by police and spirited out the back door of the evidence locker for someone's profit. There were a half dozen CD's among the DVD's that I still had to investigate. There were a few of Family Nudist magazines showing mostly naked teens and kids and there was one all child pornography book with countless pictures of boys and girls having sex with adults and with each other. My first reaction was to deep six it but I found it too titillating to carry that out. I put the DVD's in the entertainment console along the far wall of my bedroom suite and the magazines in a drawer built into the base of the bed. I didn't open the box of toys I bought nor the jerkoff sleeve but just stuffed them into the side table drawer next to my bed and took note that I had to buy some lubricant so that I could use my new toys; whatever they were.

I tried to shake all of that off in preparation for Bobby coming. I certainly didn't want him to know how perverted I was. I busied myself with planning and preparations. In studying my charts and the mileage and allowing for time to se things and have fun, It was going to take us longer than two weeks. I know I asked his mom for two weeks but his dad told me to have him back by mid-July which gave us a month. I decided on a point of no return for our trip that would give us a two week option if we decided on that or we could go balls to the wall and do a four week trip. I was hoping for the latter. I would let the decision up to Bobby. Who knows, he may get board of floating around the ocean and doing nautical things. Only time will tell.