The Landlubber
[This is a story from the Pathways to Pleasure podcast. Here is the audio version.]
It was a windy, gray autumn day, but Aryn didn’t mind. She never let the weather stop her. Every day, five times a week, she did the one-mile jog from her house to the Coast Guard Station. She’d skippered rescues boats for three years. But today was special. They’d be trying out their new one, a 45-foot RB-M. The boat was named Tilly, after some Rear Admiral’s dog.
She stopped at the top of the hill and looked out over the sea. Five-foot swells were rolling in, wisps of sea-spry blowing off their tops. In the distance, she could see the flag at the station flying straight out. It’s going to be a rough one out there today, she thought with a smile. Aryn loved being out on the water, the rougher the better.
She’d spent most of her teenage years working with her father hauling in salmon on his purse seiner. The sea was part of her DNA, she couldn’t imagine living inland.
Aryn sucked in the clean salt air and finished her downhill run to the station. No one was in yet. She always arrived early enough to take a shower and get ready for her day. Finally, wet and clean, Aryn was toweling off when she heard the crew.
Barney, Aryn’s second in command, shouted at the entrance to her shower room, his voice echoing on the tile walls. “You in there? Coffee’s on.”
“Yeah, Barney. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Working uniform on, Aryn grabbed a cup. “You boys ready to take the new boat out?”
Tom, the new guy, nervously looked out the window. “You sure this is a good day for it?”
“Don’t worry rookie,” she said. “Tilly will do just fine.” Aryn gave Barney a wink. “The boats designed to right herself if she capsizes. I’m told that actually works. Well, at least most of the time.”
“You’re kidding right?”
Barney returned Aryn’s wink. “No, really, They tested it. The boat popped back up after a knock-down at least, what was it Aryn? Five times out of ten?”
“Come on,” Aryn laughed. “Let’s take her out.”
The wind was howling through the trees as Aryn climbed aboard, ran the blower, then started Tilly up. Barney and the rookie cast off the lines, then joined Aryn in the cabin as she backed the boat from the dock and headed out.
When they cleared the breakwater Aryn turned Tilly west to meet the waves head-on. The boat’s bow rose at each crest and plunged down in every trough. Aryn turned the boat sideways to the waves causing it to rock violently from side to side. Tom was turning green.
Barney whispered, “You’re being a little hard on the kid, ain’t ya?”
“Just testing Tilly out,” Aryn laughed. But she nodded to Barney and pointed the bow back into the waves, slowing the engine down.
“Well, would’jah look at that,” Barney exclaimed.
“What?” said Aryn.
“To our starboard, there about 100 feet out.”
A small boat, maybe only 18 feet long was passing them, heading into the swells at full throttle, jumping out of the water as it crested each wave.
Barney looked through the binoculars, then handed them to Aryn. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said.
“Take the wheel, Barn.” Aryn stepped to the window, searched through the powerful lenses, then spotted the boater. “Is that…?”
“Yep. One of those fair-weather ski boats with nice cushy seats in the front so you can get a tan.”
“Damn”, she said. “Open bow.” As she watched, the driver waved. He was laughing.
“Well,” said Barney, “Looks like he’s having a good time.”
“Good Time?” said Aryn. “I’ll bet ya dollars to donuts the idiot’s going to drive deep into a wave and swamp that thing.”
The small boat headed off towards the islands, but Barney kept Tilly straight. “Well, we can check up on him on our run back.
Barney and Aryn took turns at the wheel, putting Tilly through her paces. The rookie finally got his color back and was working the deck.
Let’s go check on that halfwit and his boat now,” Aryn said. “It looked like he was heading towards Matia. Maybe he’s there.”
She pushed Tilly to 3/4 throttle. Within minutes they were a half mile out from the island. Aryn squinted her eyes. “What’s that?”
“Where?” Barney asked.
There, on the reef.”
“Barney grabbed the binoculars. “Ah… looks like you might’a been right. That’s our friend.”
As they approached she could clearly see a man, standing on the reef waving, this time not laughing. His boat was half sunk, banging against the rocks. “Damn it, I hate being right. Who the hell is that guy? Did he leave his brains back on shore?”
“I don’t know,” said Barney. “But if we don’t do somethin’ his brains are going to be all over those rocks.”
Aryn pulled up closer but held back. “There’s no way we can get to him. If we try we’’ll likely pile Tilly up on the reef. Barney, call it in. We’ll have the chopper fly out and pick him up.
“I don’t think we’ll need to do that.”
“What?”
“He just dove in.”
Aryn’s eyes widened. He was swimming alongside the rollers, his body rising and falling with the waves as he made his way towards them.
“Jeez Barn, I’ve about had it with this guy.”
“Well,” said Barney, “at least he’s a good swimmer.”
“I’ll bring us as close as I can. You’d better get on deck with Tom and see if you can pull him in.”
“It won’t be easy,” Barney said. “What with the waves bouncing us up and down so much.”
“Well, be careful. I don’t want you falling overboard.” Aryn looked out the window. “Damn, who is this guy?”
She brought Tilley up about 20 feet from him, then quickly put her in reverse and back to neutral, stopping the boat.
His powerful arms didn’t slow down. Well, at least he’s strong, Aryn thought. No brains, but strong.
As he drew close, Barney urged him on. “Come on, you can do it.”
The waves made the boat rise and fall threatening to come down on the man if he didn’t time things right. “When you get close,” Barney shouted, “wait till a wave raises you up then grab on. We’ll pull you in.”
The two men leaned out over the edge as far as they dared. The boat rose up, the swimmer dropped down in a through. Then, barely four feet from the boat, a wave picked him up as the boat dropped. It was the one chance; miss it, and he’d be crushed.
He reached out as the final wave hit raising him and the boat. He clung onto the edge as Barney and Tom grabbed hold, pulling him on deck.
“Thanks, guys,” he said between panting breaths. He stood, but a wave hit, throwing him off balance. He fell hard, hitting his head on the deck. Knocked unconscious, a small, diluted stream of blood mixed with seawater flowed from under him.
Aryn, watching through the cab’s door shouted, “Quick, get him in here!”
Barney grabbed under the man’s arms, Tom held onto his ankles. They half carried, half dragged him in, and laid him on the floor.
“Here, Barney, take the wheel and call the station. Tell them to phone an ambulance and have it waiting for us at the dock.” Aryn put her ear to the man’s chest. “Heart beating, still breathing,” she said. “Tom, get the med kit.”
The gash was open wide enough for Aryn to see bone. She cleaned it and wrapped a bandage around his head. Then grabbed a life jacket, folding it into a make-shift pillow to protect him from the bouncing floor. His eyes opened briefly, then shut again.
The trip to shore took only 20 minutes, but to Aryn and her crew it felt like an hour.
Aryn took the wheel and pulled alongside the dock. Tom got off and tied the boat up. Two paramedics jumped aboard, checked the man’s vitals, then Barney helped them get him off the boat and onto a gurney.
Aryn watched the ambulance pull out and head toward the hospital. “God, I hope he’ll be okay.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” Barney said with a sly smile. “You kinda like this guy, don’t—“
Aryn cut him off. “Shut up, he’s a useless landlubber who doesn’t belong at sea. Hell, he’d couldn’t make his way out of a tide pool without help.”
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
By the next day the storm had blown itself out. A flag on top the hospital was sagging––barely moving on a soft breeze.
The sliding glass door whooshed open as she approached. It felt to Aryn like some kind of menacing monster opening its mouth to swallow any poor soul who ventured too close. Her mother died in that same hospital two years ago and she vowed she’d never come back.
Yet, there she was.
What the hell am I doing here? she asked herself. I’m just worried about him, that’s all. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she wanted to see him again––this strange man she’d plucked for the sea.
An older woman, possibly a volunteer, sat at the reception desk. Her countenance gave the impression that she knew everyone and everything that took place in the hospital.
“Excuse me,” Aryn said. “I’m with the Coast Guard. A man we pulled from the water was brought here yesterday. I don’t know his name…”
“I know just who you mean. They brought him in around 4 yesterday, he’ll probably check out about 5 today. His name’s Bret Jameson, and he’s in room 203.”
Oh god, Aryn thought, why’d it have to be the second floor, and why that room?
“203? Are you sure?”
“Why, yes dear, of course. Just take…”
“I know, the elevator to the left.”
“You’ve been here before.”
Aryn nodded but didn’t speak, then turned for the elevator.
A short ride up, the elevator came to a bouncing stop. Its doors spilled her into a hallway bathed in florescent light. Aryn walked quickly, trying to make herself feel confident and in control. But a few feet from room 203 she stopped. This is where her mom had died. Aryn took a deep breath, then stepped into the room just as a nurse was leaving.
“Is he all right?” Aryn asked.
“Yes, just a mild concussion. He’ll be fine.”
Maybe not when I’m through with him, Aryn thought.
Bret was sitting up, a bandage on his head. “Hey! It’s my life-saving Coastie! I didn’t think you cared. You look hot in the uniform, by the way.”
Aryn wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she lied. “I had to come. It’s my duty as an officer to check in on a patient we’ve sent here––whether I want to or not.”
“Oh, I see,” he said.
Aryn knew he didn’t believe her. “We need to have words, you and me.”
“Sure, but come sit on my bed. My injury was pretty severe and I can’t hear too well.”
Aryn took a chair. “The nurse told me you’re just fine. Now,” she said, raising her voice. “What were you doing out there in a boat like that? And why were you jumping waves like some stupid teenager. What made you think you could go out in such weather? You’re not from around here are you? And you obviously don’t know much about the water. Where are you from any way?”
“Whoa, hold on. My poor injured brain can’t keep up with you.”
“Brain? You’ve got a brain? Boy, you could’a fooled me.”
“Okay, first my name’s Bret and I just moved here from Idaho.”
“Well, Bret-from-Idaho, I’m Aryn, and I’m a little pissed off.”
“I can see that.”
“You not only put yourself at risk, but my crew as well. That isn’t one of your fresh-water lakes out there ya know. And that boat…”
“Oh yeah, my boat. How is it? Did you save it?”
“You’re kidding right? They just towed that thing in today. And you’re going to get a sizable bill for that by the way.”
“I’ve got money. I’ll pay for that, and whatever it costs to get my boat fixed up.”
Aryn laughed. “You’re boat is toast, it has to be scrapped… and that’ll cost you too.”
“Oh, too bad. I’d just bought the thing. It was a nice boat.”
“For one of your Idaho lake’s maybe, or a calm, sunny day here, but an open bow has no business in the weather we had yesterday. Let me guess. She took a big gulp of water when you hit a wave.”
“Yep. A BIG gulp, like a thirsty fish.”
Aryn laughed despite her anger. You’re not here to make friends, Aryn reminded herself. Now stay on point. “Look, I didn’t come here to chew you out,” she lied for the second time.
“Oh yes you did. But let me make it up to you. I’m getting out of here in a few minutes. How about dinner? You’ll have to drive of course, my car isn’t here and in my weakened condition I think it’s your duty as an officer of the Coast Guard to, you know, make sure I’m taken care of.”
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
It was the most expensive restaurant in town. Bret held her chair and Aryn sat, looking for menus. Instead, a waiter brought out their food.
“You called ahead while I was getting the car and ordered for me? What if I don’t…
“Here you are ma’am, Caramelized Salmon with Honey and Mustard, Garlic Rosemary Roasted Potatoes, and Grilled asparagus with lemon and butter.”
“You were saying?” Bret said with a smile.
“How were you so sure I’d like this?”
“A little detective work. I figured you lived by the sea so you liked salmon, and you’re too ornery to be a vegetarian. So, how’d I do?”
“It’s, it’s just right.” Aryn, for the first time, found herself smiling at him.
“So. You’re not mad at me anymore?”
Aryn faked a frown. “Yes, I am. But this is a very nice meal. I guess you’ve earned a little break from my tirades.”
They ate slow and talked long. He told her about Idaho, she spoke of the sea. By the time dessert was served, Aryn’s frustration turned to interest. Hmmm, she thought, maybe there’s something to this man after all.
She drove him to his place. When they arrived Bret didn’t get out right away. He seemed perfectly comfortable sitting silently with her. Aryn felt awkward. He reached for her hand.
Tell me, Aryn, what is the military protocol for kissing the woman who saved a man’s life? Does the Coast Guard have a manual for such things?
Aryn eyes widened. “What?”
He leaned into her, his lips touched hers before she could react, or at least that’s what she’d tell herself later. Then she leaned into him for a second kiss. “Welcome to the West Coast, Potato Boy.”
“True. Idaho is known for its potatoes, but I’m no boy.” He wrapped his arms around her pulling her to him. “Care to come in for a while?”
“No. No thank you,” she said, pushing him away. “I’m still a little mad at you.” Aryn faked a pout, shrugging a shoulder. Damn, Aryn thought, he buys me one dinner and now I’m flirting with him?
Bret caught the tease. “Okay then,” he said smiling. “How about you give me a boating lesson sometime?”
“Well, I suppose it is my duty as a Coastie to teach you landlubbers how to play safe on the water. As it happens, I have the day off tomorrow.”
“Good.” Bret stepped out of the car, and turned. “Tomorrow then, say… 9 o’clock.”
“Make it ten.” Nine would have been fine, but Aryn didn’t want him to think he was in control.
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
Aryn dressed early. She pulled white palazzo pants over boy-shorts and a white t-shirt over a halter top. “It will be hot out”, she said, trying to convince herself she wasn’t dressing for Bret.
When she got to the dock, Bret was already there.
“Hey you, he said, THIS is YOUR boat?”
“Yep. 36 foot SeaRay, twin 250 outboards, and oh, guess what, a closed bow with a sizable cabin.”
“Yeah, yeah, closed-bow… enough already,” he laughed. “You win.”
Aryn steered the boat out of the harbor then had Bret take a turn. “Here, you try it. We’re going to head straight west until you see a marker buoy, then two miles north. And take it easy on the throttle. There’ll be no jumping waves today.”
“There’s none to jump anyway,” he laughed. “So where we goin’?”
“An island. Where my dad and I used to go when I was a girl. It’s a special place for me. No one goes there much.”
“Oh,” he grinned. “So a deserted island for two?”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Potato Boy.”
Aryn took back the wheel as they approach the island.
Bret frowned. “I don’t see anywhere to land. There’s nothing but rocks and high cliffs.”
“That’s what most people think’” she said. “Just watch.”
Aryn headed toward what Bret thought was a rocky cliff but as she got closer Aryn turned into a tight passage. It was mostly blocked by a huge rock hiding the entrance. The inlet was deep but barely as wide as her boat.
It opened to a small bay. Aryn anchored a ways from shore. “We’ll take the dingy in.”
“Who needs a dingy?” He laughed, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and dove overboard.
Treading water he shouted up at her. “Come on, don’t be a wimp.”
Aryn removed her shoes. “What is it with you and swimming?” The pants, she told herself, were not practical for the water so she stepped out of them and jumped in. Without a word, the race was on.
Bret’s strong arms got him to the beach first. He sat on a log and watched her walk out of the water. He was about to tease her for losing, but stopped. My god, he thought. Look at that. He tried to speak but nothing came out.
Aryn could feel the t-shirt clinging tight against her breasts. The halter top did little to hide her erect nipples. The boy-shorts revealed muscular legs. Walking slowly towards him she reveled in the power a woman could have over a man.
He stood as she approached, wrapped his arms around her, pressing their wet bodies together. “Boy, did I ever make the right decision leaving Idaho.”
They walked along a stretch of sand that soon disappeared into gravel. “Ouch, we should have brought shoes,” he said.
“Come,” Aryn said. She lead him off the beach to a field. The wild grass was up to their knees. A heron leapt from a pond and flew over their heads protesting their arrival with a coughing, guttural, almost pre-historic call.
“When I was a girl I used to roll around to flatten this grass and make a floor where I could hide from my father. And I’d make secret tunnels by tying the tops of grass together.”
“So show me.” He pushed her down then laid beside her. They kissed. He ran his hand over her bottom, feeling the soft, partly revealed naked flesh.
She pressed herself against him. He pressed back. Then he held her tight to his body and rolled. They turned over and over each other knocking down grass like a human rolling pin. Finally stopping, they separated, laid on their backs, and looked at the sky.
“Well,” he laughed, “we’ve made that floor you were talking about.”
Aryn jumped up, ran into the tall grass, then crouched down.
Bret stood and scanned the field. “Where’d you go?” He walked slowly looking for any sign of movement. “I’ll flush you out like a grouse,” he said.
Suddenly grass moved. Aryn was crawling on her knees. The moving trail of collapsing grass gave her position away.
Bret ran towards her. She leaped to her feet, laughing and running as he chased her. Then she ducked back down and crawled as fast as she could. Bret caught up. “There you are.”
Aryn was on her hands and knees, her bottom towards him. All that crawling had made her shorts move up, revealing her naked cheeks. He kneeled behind her, held her hips and moved against her.
Aryn pushed back at him, then rolled over. “You caught me.”
Kneeling beside her, he ran his hand over her wet t-shirt, feeling hardened nipples. With intently demanding eyes he ordered, “take it off.”
Aryn sat up, pulled the shirt and halter top above her head, and, throwing them aside, she laid back down.
He trailed kisses down her neck, stopping at her breasts. His tongue flicked at one nipple, his fingers lightly pinched the other. His mouth opened and sucked at her.
Aryn felt a warm, moistening pleasure between her legs.
Suddenly she pushed him off and quickly crawled away. He crawled after her and reached out, but missed. He followed on all fours like a wolf chasing his mate.
She slowed a bit, allowing him to catch up. Bret reached out again, this time grabbing the waist of her shorts.
Aryn rolled over as he pulled them off. The sight of her lying on her back, naked breasts heaving, made his cock flex in his pants. He stood, and pulled them off.
Aryn, seeing his partially raised cock, got up on her knees and took him. Sucking, stroking, she felt his cock harden in her mouth. Her hands moved around, grasped his cheeks, and pulled him deeper into her.
He moved away, and bent down. His powerful arms flexed as he lifted her up off the ground. One arm under her knees, the other supporting her back, he kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth and her’s his.
Then Bret gently set her down, climbed up on her, and laid his erect penis on her belly. Aryn’s pussy soaked with excitement. She needed him.
Rolling, she forced him over and climbed on top. Her hands on his chest, she glided her soft, wet pussy up and down his cock, watching his eyes grow with passion.
He rolled over on top, spread her legs apart, grabbed his himself, rubbed it up and down her slot a few times, then entered her.
Aryn could feel her opening spread to accept him. Her pussy gushed, responding to the stiff shaft sliding through it.
His movements inside her gradually built into faster and faster thrusts. Aryn wrapped her legs around him. He pushed harder. She gave a loud moan. He suddenly held still.
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
“Are you okay? Am I being too rough?”
“No, I want it. I’m so wet. You fill me so full. I want it as hard as you can give it.”
His eyelids fell, partly covering his widening pupils. With a quiet growl, he plunged, pumping in and out, his balls slapping against her.
Then it began. First, her thigh muscles tightened, her butt flexed, her stomach clenched, a warmth spread across her chest, her back arched, her head tilted back, her mouth opened gasping at the air. Then her whole body quaked as he rammed her over and over. With a loud scream, she exploded under him.
He’d been waiting for her and when he felt her spasms he knew it was his turn.
He pounded at her, thrusting his swollen cock deep into her wet, warm, tight, cunt. Feeling the moment of release, he pulled out and, pressing his hands into the grass, raised himself up, strained against her, and released onto her belly.
He rolled off, looking at the sky, panting, their bodies wet and exhausted. The heron flew high above, returning to its pond.
They laughed, at the bird, the day they’d spent together, and at the joy of their lovemaking. He rolled towards her. And, leaning on one elbow, wiping her belly clean with the wet t-shirt said, “I love you ya know.”
“I love you too… Now about that open bow…”
“Oh, shut up,” he laughed.
