Date: Tue, 9 Oct 2012 08:52:05 +0200
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Message in a Bottle. Part One.

This story is for persons of eighteen years or over.  All comments, good or
bad, are welcome and all will be answered.

Part One.

   `Guday!'

  I think by that use of saying either good day or good morning, you have
guessed that I am an Australian of our island, ha-ha, that's bigger than
Europe. We've bastardized a lot of the English language as I've just done,
like we also refer to our country as "Oz". But that is neither here nor
there in what I am about to tell you, just as a leader into the where
abouts in the world that I am.

  My name is Colin Teacher, and don't be misled by the surname, for I was
nowhere near ever becoming a teacher, neither were my mother and
father. That I turned out to be a bum was not the fault of either of my
parents in their bringing me up into our world of Oz.

  I have now reached the age of thirty and my wife is just about to give
birth to our first child. Now this is a real event let me tell you, for it
was fate that brought us together. Both of us have had our ups and downs,
mostly the latter, but now, God willing, they are behind us. So let me tell
you of what happened to bring us to this happy state, though it had never
been the intention from the outset as you will find out. So I will start
with myself, as I know more than anyone to be able to do this.

  I was born in July of the year 1970 to Julia Teacher, her husband, my
father, being Roger Teacher. He worked for an insurance company, a job that
didn't really help us later in life, while mom was a hospital nurse. Both
worked in Sydney though our house overlooked Double Bay where dad had a
small boat moored there.

  So I came into the world not without complications, being a breech birth
part of the problem. I never did find out what the other problems were only
to know that mom would be unable to have any more children, so I was to be
the only child they would have. Of course I knew nothing of this as I grew
up and only found out many years later. So being an only child, I was feted
as much as possible by mom and dad, and he would often take me out sailing
which I grew to love.

  My education at school was mediocre to say the least and learnt more from
my dad than what I was getting from school, this being how to handle a
small sail boat, which we often used to cruise round The Heads. This being
the entrance into Jackson Harbour that led to our city Sydney. We quite
often would stay out on the boat on Fridays and Saturday nights, returning
home on the Sunday. Though this was only done when that fitted in with her
hospital duties when she wouldn't be at home.

  So not only was I taught how to handle this small craft, but also
swimming, jumping off the boat and keeping up with it with the breast
stroke, so by the age of ten, not only was I adept at handling the boat,
but a bloody good swimmer too.

  I was sixteen when my mother fell ill and was hospitalized, which was
paid for by the insurance that dad had for all of us, but what it didn't
cover was the after care that she needed. I never was told exactly what was
wrong with her, but it was fatal, that I do know. I then left school to
spend as much time as I could looking after her as dad still had to work to
bring in money for feeding us etc, but now having to have other people
coming in to do what I couldn't, dad had to sell the boat to cover this
financial burden. We struggled on for two years looking after her and
seeing her slowly dying. It was heartbreaking for both of us when she
finally died and we saw that she had a decent burial.

  So with just the two of us now living at home, I had to find work to help
in the household economy and finally got a job as a lifeguard at Bondi
Beach, the epitome in being a surfers paradise. I was surprised at how many
times I had to rush from my high chair to dive into the sea to rescue some
stupid ass that got into difficulties. But then I also got to know how to
use a surf board and would spend quite a bit of my off working hours
surfing off the beach.

  Having reached the age of seventeen, I was now six foot in height and
weighed about hundred pounds and had not only a bloody good sun tan, but
the physique to go with it. This attracted many a girl to chat me up and it
goes without saying that I accepted quite a few of these and would get to
have sex in all its forms somewhere on the beach after dark. So in time,
became quite proficient in how to please a girl in having us coupled in the
throes of sex. Mind you, the sand did cause havoc sometimes when it got
underneath the foreskin. But that was the price one paid of having sex
there.

  This job lasted four years as it was me that gave it up. The reason being
dad. He had never got over the loss of mom and I think he just gave up
living by not having her with him. The only answer that the coroner could
come up with was that he died of a broken heart. Now that was a real blow
to me. First mom and now dad. I too was heartbroken, but not to the extent
that I didn't have a life to live, so with the spirit of being a true
Aussie, put it to one side and got on with life.

  Dad, in his foresight, had made sure that I was well cared for in respect
of money, though it wasn't the same at not having him there with me, so I
became a bum. Wandering up and down the coast, taking the odd job here and
there, not staying long in any of the places that I found work. Most of
this being anything to do with the sea. Now I had been very well taught
that the sea is a very dangerous place, full of predators to say the least,
as it could also be most violent when it felt like it. A danger and a place
that must be respected at all times and not to be fooled by the sometime
calmness of the sea for it could change at any time to be most furious in
the way that it reacted to other parts of the hemisphere.

  It's not as if I was short of money for the insurance pay out on my
father's death was enough to keep me going for quite awhile, so there was
no need to sell the house. This I just closed down before I began my
wandering up and down the Golden Coast. Manly beach being my first stop
from Sydney, becoming a lifeguard there having got good references from
Bondi. I even went up as far as Cairns but found that I liked Townsville
where they had plenty of boats moored that I simply lusted after, but
didn't have enough money to be able to buy one.

  But it was there that Lady Luck shone down on me. It was just on a whim
that I went and spent ten dollars for a ticket for The Golden Casket. A
national lottery that was drawn once a week and bugger me if I didn't have
a winning ticket. I was over the moon at winning half a million dollars and
so no longer was I a bum but a man of fortune. Though give me credit, for I
didn't go and splurge the lot but was most circumspect with my
winnings. Banking it but still looked out for a boat of my dreams. Nothing
fancy, just one that I could take out over the Barrier Reef and do some
snorkel diving, loving to see the fish in their shoals, flitting back and
forth amongst the coral reefs.

  As it happened, I was down at the waterfront of Townsville a week later
when I spotted a boat that had a for sale sign up on the quay where it was
moored. I could tell straight away that it was an American made craft, old,
but still looking good. I paused by this boat and studied its lines and saw
a man come out of the cockpit to see me looking at it.

  `Interested?' he asked as he stepped out and stood facing me.

  `I might be,' I replied, not saying that I really was, seeing that he had
kept it in good trim. `If the price was right and that I could look over
it,' I told him.

  `Well come aboard and have a look,' he said. Now that was like a red rag
to a bull, and so I jumped that short distance to land on the deck to shake
hands with this American, which was obvious by his speech and use of the
language.

  `My name is Wayne Keeper the second,' he said, offering his hand.

  `Colin Teacher,' I replied as our hands met in a firm grip.

  `Hi then Colin. Are you really interested in the boat?' he asked.

  `I might be if it is in good shape and the price is right,' I replied,
our hands now having parted.

  `Well rather than waste time for both of us, the price is a hundred and
twenty thousand dollars. Australian dollars of course,' he chuckled.

  `A bit high for a boat that looks as if it first hit the water thirty
years ago,' I replied. He gave out a laugh.

  `You know your boats then for you're spot on. Nineteen sixty nine to be
precise, but in tip top condition. Come and let's see inside,' he said. I
had already noted that it had a tri sail at the fore before the main mast
that looked to be not far off being new, and followed him down from the
cockpit into the narrow insides. It was obvious that it was a two berth
with a small kitchen and toilet though still seemed rather cramped when I
went down with him.

  `Fancy a beer?' he asked when we were down in what you would call the
saloon, having this narrow table that was between what would be the two
bunks for sleeping, though they appeared to be the seating for the table to
eat from.

  `Spot on Yank,' I replied, the answer being yes.

  `One beer coming up sport,' he said, using an Australian phrase which
showed that he been here quite a few times to get our lingo. So with two
cans of beer, he told me of the boats history, which I took with a pinch of
salt having heard this kind of talk before. We drank our beers before he
showed me over the boat and I was quite impressed at how well it had been
kept and was now really interested in buying it. It wasn't far off what dad
had once had and I really liked it. It was a thirty footer with, unusually,
a metal keel that gave it more stability in heavy weather, and was easy
enough to be handled by a single person.

  I had to ask the inevitable question as why he was selling it here. Now
if it was the truth or not, I had no way of knowing, but it was that on
arrival at Townsville, he learned that his mother was gravely ill and
wanted him to return home as soon as possible. Now without much money, he
was being forced to sell the boat so that he could return to the
States. He'd only put the For Sale sign up the day before and I was the
first person to show an interest in it and would like to make a quick sale
so that he could return home.

  So after an inspection over the boat, we went back down below for another
couple of beers to haggle over the price. Within an hour, I beat him down
to a hundred thousand dollars which he finally accepted. So with a shake of
hands, the deal was done. That is, rather an agreement between us for it
still had to be ratified. So with our beer finished, we went down to the
harbour master's office where Wayne produced the papers and log book of the
boat and I had the Master phone my bank to confirm that I had that amount
available, and so I passed over my cheque and had the boat's papers changed
over to my name with the Harbour Master making it known in writing that he
had witnessed the change of ownership.

  I forgot to tell you that the name of the boat was `Alice' and registered
in Seattle, which was now changed to be Townsville, Australia, though I
agreed to keep the boat's name of Alice. Whether this was an omen or not,
I'll leave it for you to decide if you continue to follow this story.

  `Would you mind Colin if I sleep over on the boat tonight as it's getting
rather late to find somewhere else, apart from waiting for the cheque to
clear to give me some money?' he asked of me.

  `No problem Wayne. Why don't we have dinner together ashore, my treat,'
was my response.

  `Now that I cannot refuse,' he said with a smile, and so we shook hands
with the Harbour Master and left his office and wandered down the
waterfront and finally stopped at a restaurant and had a damn good meal,
washed down with two bottles of Australian wine. We then went back to the
boat arm in arm, both of us quite happy, him having sold the boat and me in
the buying of it. I never picked up on the fact that he had put his arm
into mine on our way back but found out when we were back on board.

  The table between the two bunks was easily lifted up by one person and
fixed to the overhead clips for us to then get undressed to turn our seats
into bunks. The space between the two was quite narrow, so our bodies were
constantly touching each other as our clothes came off and it wasn't until
we were both naked that he looked first at my groin and then at my face.

  `I'm gay Colin,' was what he said, and this floored me, for I knew that
there were men like this but never expected Wayne to be one. `Are you?'

  `No,' was my answer.

  `Pity, for you've got a lovely cock there that I would like to suck,' he
said. I was lost for words, speech wise that is, but my cock had thoughts
of its own and started to rise up. This he noticed. `Would you let me suck
it? I'm not asking you to suck mine if that is what you are thinking. I do
like having a rampant cock in my mouth, giving pleasure at the same time as
receiving it by doing so.'

  I sat down on the bunk I would be sleeping in, not knowing really how to
answer him. It was my cock that was what I was really arguing with, not
him, for it had now come up to be fully erect and really throbbing at the
thought of being sucked and the release of the sperm that was now boiling
in my balls. I could see that he also was sporting an erection, though I
noted that it wasn't as big as mine as he sat down opposite me.

  `If...if you want to,' I stammered, never ever having had this asked of
me before.

  `Lay back then and enjoy then,' he said, slipping off his bunk onto his
knees and now facing my waist. I did as he asked and lay back with my now
hard erect cock lying up on my stomach. His left hand came up and took hold
of my cock, the first man, apart from a doctor some years back, to take
hold of my cock and he held it upright as he bent his head and took the
head of my cock into his hot mouth.

  Goddammit! I was both ashamed at letting another man suck on my cock and
that the fact that I enjoyed the experience of having it sucked as he
tongue teased the G string giving me all sorts of funny vibrations
throughout my body. Not only was he sucking and tonguing me, but his hand
was now moving the soft skin up and down the shaft. I had never known such
pleasure could be given to me as he played with my cock, and looking down
briefly at his head bobbing up and down on me, noticed that his right arm
was moving out of sight and guessed that while he was sucking and working
his hand on my upright cock, he was jerking himself off at the same time.

  But my pleasure was short lived, for with his expertise in this form of
male sex, I soon peaked and gave him all that my balls contained by cumming
in his mouth. He took it all without flinching or stopping of the working
of his hand on my cock as I cummed. By feeling that extra suction on my
cock head, guessed that he had swallowed it all for his hand never stopped
moving, neither did his sucking of me until there was no more to give
him. With a big sigh, he finally lifted his head up off the head of my
cock, the foreskin having been pushed right down so that the air now seemed
cold round the bared flesh as he gave it a final kiss before looking back
up at me and grinning.

  `Boy, That was some cum you had there. It was lovely. Did you like it?'
he asked.

  `Yes,' was all I could say, for I really had liked having had my cock
sucked for the first time. `You jerked off too didn't you?'

  `Yes, and made a bit of a mess with it the down there,' he said with shy
smile. `I just had to as I was enjoying the sucking of your cock. It's the
biggest and best that I've ever had. Would...would you later fuck me with
it? You can say no if you don't want to,' he said hastily, `but it is such
a wonderful cock that you've got, that it would be great if I could have it
up inside me.'

  Again I was lost for words. First at having my cock sucked by another man
and now he was asking me to stick it up his ass. Could I? Would I? Should
I? But that little part of the brain started saying that well you've been
sucked so why not go the whole way and do as he asked.

  `Well...'I began, not really knowing what to say. `I can't at the
moment,' I lamely said.

  `You will then?' he asked as he rose up from his knees.

  `If...if you really want me to. It's something I've never done before,' I
stuttered.

  `You'll find it tighter and much better than fucking a woman,' he
said. `Move over and I'll help raise it up again. I was so mesmerised at
this happening to me that I unconsciously moved over so that he could get
onto the bunk with me. Then I had another surprise, for him then kissed
me. Another first! Being kissed by another man that I'd only met this very
day. What pissed me off was that I liked it and so didn't stop him from
making love to me in this fashion.

  I was lying on my back, my side up tight to the bulkhead with him lying
on his side as he kissed me while his right hand kept stroking my body,
occasionally brushing against my limp cock. Now this didn't stay limp much
longer with his ministrations on me as it wasn't long before it was up hard
again.

  He knew this, and moved down the bunk and took the head back into his
mouth, though not for long, for all he was doing really, was coating it
with his saliva before letting go of it and asking me to get up behind
him. This I did in the close confines of space that we had on the bunk and
there I was then, between his open legs and saw his ass hole that he wanted
me to fuck. In for a penny and in for a pound was the thought that ran
through my mind as I took hold of his hips and pushed the head of my cock
into his ass.

  You're fucking mad, my mind said to me as the head of my cock disappeared
into his ass to a grunt from him, but then felt his muscle start to flex
itself round my shaft as I got as much of myself into him and had him give
out a gasp.

  `Wow! The best yet,' he said in a tight voice. Not only was that tight,
so was his ass, gripping my cock in that heated interior of his body. `Now
start moving.'

  This I did and found that he was indeed a much tighter fit that a woman's
pussy and I found that I enjoyed moving my cock back and forth in this
enclosed chamber that was his anal canal.

  `Harder Colin,' Wayne grunted between thrusts, `and let me feel you cum.'
So I gripped his hips more firmly and pulled him back onto me now ramming
myself hard into his ass where nature took over and began sending my cum
out in separate shots, six in all before I came to a stop. My cock was
still throbbing inside him as he crooned something that I couldn't fathom,
leaning over his rear end, my chest heaving and my heart pounding. You've
just been and fucked another man, my mind shouted at me, and without using
a condom.

  `Shit!' I exclaimed, and pulled back, my cock sliding out of Wayne to
little cries from him as his muscle there tried to grip my cock as it
slipped out. I got off the bunk on wobbly legs and staggered over to the
miniscule sink and pumped some water out into my hand and washed my still
hard cock as best I could, the water splashing down onto the deck as I did
so. There was a towel by the side there and I used this to dry myself from
the water that had also run down my legs before turning round to see Wayne
flat out on the bunk.

  `That's the best I've had in a long time,' he said smiling up at me as I
went and sat down on the opposite bunk.

  `That's also the first time that I've ever done that,' I replied, laying
down and stretching myself out. `It was better than I thought it would be.'
I felt drained and exhausted and closed my eyes for a second. Well I
thought I did and instead, fell asleep.

  I came awake with daylight showing through the two small portholes and
saw that the opposite bunk was empty. I turned my head and saw Wayne, still
naked, cooking at the small stove and he gave me a grin.

  `Breakfast coming up. Get the table down,' he asked, and so I sat up and
swung my legs down to the deck and stood up and released the table to
settle it down between the two bunks as he brought two plates of ham and
eggs to put down before turning round and picking up some knives and forks
as well as a plate of buttered bread to put down as well.

  `I'll be leaving after we've eaten,' he said between mouthfuls, `and the
boat is all yours. You can also have what food is left in the lockers, for
I've got to get to the bank to collect the money for this tub and book a
flight home.' As he hadn't said anything about last night, I didn't either
and kept quiet. With the meal over, he said, `As I cooked, you can do the
washing up,' and he got up from the table and began to get dressed. I then
did the same and with us both fully clothed, we went up and out of the
small cabin, him with a duffel bag of his things and there we shook hands
and said our goodbyes. The last I saw of him was him walking down the quay
until he turned a corner and was out of sight.

  I shrugged my shoulders and then surveyed what I had bought. A boat that
I'd always yearned for and could now do some snorkelling off the reef and
enjoy life. But first it was to wash up our breakfast things and then check
the food locker and make a list of supplies that I would need. I also
wanted to get a new snorkel kit and some flippers and a few more clothes as
I hadn't carried much of the later with me.

  With that done, I went ashore and spoke to the Harbour Master and found
out how much my mooring fees were and so the bank was my first target to
get some money out for the supplies, clothes and other things I wanted,
plus the harbour fees of course. I found that Wayne had already been in and
collected his money and even got the branch manager to get him a taxi to be
taken to the airport. So on withdrawing some money for myself, went
shopping. I only bought enough food and water for a few days and would get
more later, but it was the snorkel gear that I treasured most, and I didn't
forget to pay the harbour fees on my return to the quay.

  With my purchases stowed away, I gave the boat a complete overhaul, even
to the extent of diving over the side to check out the keel and found it
clean of barnacles and weed. I checked the small engine that it had and
found that it was in good working order, having used to be doing this with
dad's boat, and that it had enough fuel. The water tank was low and would
need filling up. All ropes and cleats were in good condition as were the
two sails and even had one as a spare. The boat was low on charts, and
outdated at that, so that would be the next purchase after I had given the
boat a run out to the reef.

  The next morning, I got the engine going to get me out of the harbour and
when out into the Pacific Ocean properly, hoisted the sails and cut out the
engine and had great fun in putting it through its paces and was well
satisfied in the way she handled. I was as happy as a pig in shit with the
boat and felt quite proud in my handling of it, especially on the return to
the berth without any mishap in my handling of it to come alongside the
mooring quay and able to jump ashore to moor her properly.

  For the next three days, I went out to the coral reefs and did some
snorkelling, enjoying the sight of all the fish that made it their domain
in their shoals whilst hunting for their prey. It was on the third day that
the event happened that changed my life. I didn't at the time know that it
was to be an event for it seemed so innocuous at the time.

  I had been snorkelling and on coming to the surface, bumped my head on a
floating bottle. Treading water, I took hold of this bottle, well a jar
really, and saw that it had a scrolled up piece of paper inside. I was only
a few yards from the boat and so made for it with the bottle in my hand. I
clambered aboard and took off my gear and then looked at this clear glass
bottle, noting that the cap had been screwed on tightly to keep it
waterproof, and took it down below. I put it on the table and dried myself
first before unscrewing the cap and taking out that piece of paper. I
unfolded it and was astounded at what had been written. It was dated seven
months previously and I will put down what was written there.

  " Please help me if you are reading this. I'm stranded alone on this
uninhabited island somewhere in the New Hebrides, I think. My Partner and I
left Suva, Fiji, for Norfolk Island, heading sou', sou', west. One day out
of Norfolk Island, we were hit by a terrible storm that drove us in a
northerly direction, slightly off to the west. It lasted for forty eight
hours and was still bad when we hit a reef off of an island. Somehow, I was
washed ashore but my partner never made it. I've no idea what the island is
called but I've been here for two months and this is my last bottle of four
and paper. So please, please, find someone who can possibly help me. I am
surviving on the abundant fruit and nuts here on the island, but am
desperate to be rescued. Please help me, I beg of you.

  Alice Dayman."

  `Wow!' I exclaimed after reading this plea and dragged out an atlas, but
found that it didn't display the Pacific Islands. Okay, there was a page
that covered the Pacific, but not in precise detail with it being so
big. But if I could get some charts of the islands, I could then be the
knight in a swim suit to rescue this damsel in distress. A noble thought I
can hear you say, but at the outset, a fool's errand. This was echoed by
the Harbour Master when I had returned to my berth and told him of the
letter.

  `You must be effing mad! There's about a thousand islands out in that
area and you don't even know which one she's landed on!' he said in
disbelief when I told him that I was going to go out there and look for
her. But I was that far gone in wanting to make the effort, I was adamant
in making the effort.

  `You are mad. It's going to take you at least twelve to fourteen days to
just get to the islands. The same for the return trip and that's not
counting how many days and islands you are going to look at,' he told
me. He even threw in storms, lack of wind, food and water etc. For an hour
he tried to talk me out of it, but my mind was made up and he finally threw
up his arms in disgust, I think, at me taking on this massive task which it
really was when you come down to it, but my mind was made up.

  He then helped me in getting all the relevant charts that I would need,
and insisted that I got a long range radio fixed in the boat and that the
Coast Guards were informed at what I was attempting. With money not being a
problem, I also had installed a computer style weather report, that being a
screen that showed the forecasted weather in whatever area I would be
in. This had to be run with the engine running to give me the electricity
for it, so I should only use it when I deemed it necessary. I also had a
radio installed with the aerial for it put atop of the mast.

  It took another two days to have these things installed in the boat while
I got supplies for three months at least. Plenty of extra bottles of water
and I'm sure that I must have loaded half a ton of these supplies. He gave
me his radio code name and that I should at least make one call a day to
set his mind at rest that I was still alive and to give my position so that
if the worst were to happen, at least they would have an area to check to
find me if things went wrong.

  So with an innumerable number of charts, spare lifejackets, an inflatable
dinghy, Very lights and pistol and all that I've already mentioned, said my
farewell to the Harbour Master. He still called me a silly sod, but shook
my hand and hoped that I succeeded in what I was doing. Other people had
heard of what I was attempting and had quite a small crowd there on the
quay to clap and give me a cheer as I cast off and set sail out into the
unknown.

  I calculated the distance to be around 870 miles, so without stopping
while travelling at five knots would take a fraction over seven whole days,
but I had to include time taken for sleeping though I did tend to spend
more time dozing off in the cockpit as I steered the boat.

  It took me all of twelve days to get to Kingston, Norfolk Island, the
port for landing supplies from ships, though these are carried in by barges
as the depth of water is too shallow allow ships to berth on the jetty
there, though my small boat could. The time element had been lengthened by
me getting caught in a squall that lasted half a day and all night, where I
didn't get any sleep at all and had to hove to the following day with a sea
anchor out for me to get some rest.

  I can't say that I was made welcome there, not having obtained a visa,
but after explaining that I was on a mission of mercy, heading for the New
Hebrides, was allowed to purchase some fresh food and water, So I was only
there for that one day, of course letting the Harbour Master back in
Townsville know that I was still alive and setting off that evening for the
islands to the north.

                                                 *