Oar House

A beautiful late summer week with business as usual on Oar House had grown tenser and tenser as the storm forecast grew more and more ominous. Tropical storm warnings grew into Hurricane warnings while Momma and the girls braced for the worst. The VHF radio was crackling with life. Momma was in almost constant touch with Captain Eugene, feeling reasonably confident she had done everything he had told her, but both of them were worried the big barge didn't have enough ground tackle to hold her in a big blow. Two huge fisherman anchors were the main line of defense, but Captain Eugene was wishing Momma had more.

As darkness started to fall and blinding sheets of rain swept across the deck, Momma and the girls were as quiet as they'd ever been, hoping that not talking about what was happening would make it all go away. The old barge was tucked into a tree-lined marsh, the closest thing to a 'hurricane hole' Captain Eugene could think of in their region. There was nobody around for miles, and the deep grey gloom just intensified the loneliness.

The radio crackled to life again. "Oar House, this is Eugene. We're approaching from your stern. Over."

Momma couldn't believe her ears. The girls all ran out on deck, the warm rain soaking them in seconds. They caught Eugene's line and helped two men climb aboard. They were fisherman, customers of Oar House, and the girls gave them a wet hug before they sprang into action.

They checked Momma's anchoring set-up, adjusted a few things and added some tie-downs and chaffing gear to the dinghies and other items lashed on deck. Meanwhile, Captain Eugene and two other men were circling the big barge in their boat, setting out more anchors in a carefully laid-out plan, taking into account the wind directions and shifts expected during the night. They finished just before pitch darkness, with the wind howling.

The boat they arrived on was a problem. They tucked it in close behind the transom of Oar House, hoping the wind shadow of the big barge would give it some protection. Everyone on board was soaked to the bone when they made their way into the kitchen to dry off, the smell of beef stew and the warm glow of the oil lamps a stark contrast to the mayhem outside.

With no dry clothes that fit the men, everyone sat around the big table naked and warmed themselves with hot food and good liquor. Momma put some dixieland jazz on the stereo to try and drown out the howling wind.

It wasn't long before the food was gone and an all-out orgy had broken out in the big living room. For hours the big barge creaked and groaned as it pulled hard on it's anchors. The men took turns going out into the storm to check the chaffing gear and anchor rodes, returning soaking wet to a heroes welcome from the wildly horny girls. Something about sex in a hurricane had them all super hot and fucking their brains out. Lisa Lou claims she had sixteen orgasms that night, an all time record for her.

The girls still talk about that night, sometimes wondering if Captain Eugene picked the men for their sexual prowess. Of course he didn't, the girls just got lucky is all. Captain Eugene proved to be no slouch himself. Up until that time, Momma had been the only one he'd been with. Momma, too, fucked her brains out that stormy night. Having her be a part of the orgy was a thrill for the girls, her noisy, free and easy orgasms music to their ears.

A year later, those four fisherman still get special treatment when they visit Oar House. The 'hurricane orgy' has become legendary amongst the fishing fleet. Without a doubt plenty of other fisherman are hoping for another hurricane, so they can 'help out' the big barge named Oar House.

———————

The current girls all came to Oar House well after Momma got things started. All the original girls had moved on, taking their cut of the 'girls account' to start new lives. It was always tearful when Momma handed them a big check. The money was overwhelming to them, yes, but leaving the camaraderie and family of the big old barge was emotional too.

Donna Lee had the record for staying the longest. Momma secretly hoped she'd take over Oar House someday, although Momma was hopeful that day was far in the future. Momma wanted to die peacefully in her sleep, with the waves under Oar House rocking her gently, but not until she was good and old. There were still a lot of hard cocks she wanted to stroke, and dirty books to read.

Day-to-day life had a nice rhythm aboard the old vessel. The evenings and late into the night were all about satisfying the customers. Generally the mornings were all about quiet time for the girls, and sometimes the afternoons too.

Hygiene was a big deal on the barge, and every day the soft morning light illuminated a parade of naked girls making their way to the shower. Captain Eugene and Momma had designed and built a rain-water collection system that utilized the huge top deck to gather water. It was filtered and pumped into a series of metal tanks, painted black to soak up the heat from the strong southern sun. Simple gravity brought the warm water to the shower, which was on the bridge-deck in the open air, with a flimsy wooden privacy screen that the girls usually left open.

Laundry was done with the rainwater too, the old fashioned way in buckets on deck with an old fashioned roller to squeeze out the water. The clotheslines were usually full of lingerie of all types fluttering in the breeze. The girls didn't wear much else.

Of course they had regular clothes that they wore when they left the boat for town. Momma encouraged them to get out in the real world as much as they wanted, and didn't even mind if they freelanced a bit when they were on land, as long as they didn't get into trouble. The last thing Momma wanted was for any of them to feel like they we imprisoned in any way by living on Oar House. The girls never did feel that way though, they loved Momma, and Oar House was the most wonderful home most of them had ever had.

There were three boats available for the girls to use for transportation — an old surplus troop carrier and two smaller dinghies with motors. The troop carrier was a simple open boat, long and narrow, with lots of seats. They used it to ferry supplies out to Oar House when they were at anchor for long periods of time. All the boats were carried on deck, with a mast and boom set up with an electric winch to raise and lower them over the side. For recreation there were two old sunfish sailboats, a few plastic kayaks, a canoe, and some decent fishing gear for the girls who liked that kind of thing.

It all sounds idyllic and it quite often was, but the real world intruded once in a while too. Things needed to be repaired or replaced now and then, so Momma had plenty of specialists on call, paying them off with time credits to spend with the girls. She drew fifty dollar bills on pieces of paper, with her smiling face in the middle where Ulysses S. Grant should be. Nobody could forge them, because nobody drew like Momma. She didn't like to abuse that though, because it meant the girls were paying with their time, so she dipped into her savings to pay for things too. It all worked out nicely, with everybody's finances growing thanks to wise investments.

The other big 'real world' item was law enforcement, or preferably the lack there-of. Not only was Momma shrewd, she was just plain nice. The local Sheriff, Coast Guard officers and even the Air National Guard all loved Momma, and were regular customers. Gratis, of course. That arrangement reached the peak of its usefulness one night about two years ago...

"Easy big boy, I'm not a blow-up doll ya know," Ashley said.

"You'll take it baby. You know ya want it like this."

The smelly, greasy haired man flipped her little body around and pressed her face-down into the bed sheet, forcing his hand between her thighs and wrenching her ass up.

"Hey, what the fuck!" Ashley said. "Take it easy and we can have some fun. No anal though, that's not my thing."

"You just ain't had it done right yet sugar," the man growled.

"Oh, I had it done righter than you'll ever do it, and it just ain't my thing I tell ya."

The greasy man persisted, and Ashley reached beside her mattress and pushed the emergency button. The girls all had one, but they were seldom used. The normal clientele was an amiable bunch of guys, but on that night an out-of-state fishing boat crew was visiting, and there were a few troublemakers. Ashley had one, Red had one, and Coralee had one. Momma was heading down the hallway with a pistol in her hand responding to Ashley's alarm when she heard Red call out, and then there was a terrible fracas in Coralee's room. Just as Momma swung open Ashley's door she saw Coralee drag a groggy half-conscious man out into the hallway.

"Coralee, check on Red will ya?" Momma said as she held a gun on Ashley's man. "What in tarnation is goin' on here tonight boys?" she asked the man.

"Just havin' some fun Ma'am," the greasy man said. "That's whatcher here for, ain't it? I paid my money, I'm gonna fuck this here girl in whatever hole I wanna!"

"That's not how we operate here mister," Momma said, still holding the gun on him. "It's time for you boys to go."

She'd no sooner gotten the words out of her mouth when another man grabbed her arm from behind and took her gun. Donna Lee had seen the whole mess unfold. She took a handheld VHF radio out on the back deck where she wouldn't be heard and sent out a distress call before shouldering Momma's shotgun and aiming it down the hall.

"Troops are on their way boys," she said as she cocked the gun. "We've got friends in high places. The next move's yours."

Donna Lee wasn't kidding when she said the troops were on the way. Just as the stand-off in the long hallway reached its peak of tension, the sound of a big helicopter could be heard approaching. The man holding Momma's pistol dropped it and he and all the other men hustled on out of there, mumbling under their breath about crazy whores.

They sped off in the darkness with no lights on their boat, but within five minutes the Coast Guard chopper had them under their huge searchlights and escorted them somewhere to have a nice chat with them.

Momma was happy with the outcome, and the girls paid the brave Coast Guard officers back with many favors over the next few weeks, but nobody on Oar House slept very well that night.

———————

Like any watercraft in salty, briny, brackish water, Oar House needs her bottom scrubbed every once in a while. It's messy work, and expensive, so the girls help out to keep the costs down. Momma has the big barge hauled out at a yard that services the fishing fleet, and of course she's got customers there, including the owner, who gives Momma a break on costs and lets the girls help out with the labor. No one looks forward to it, but it's work that has to be done.

About a year ago Oar House was 'on the hard' when a local Baptist minister came by to bless a new fishing boat that was being christened. He was astonished to see the six girls standing underneath the big barge, Coralee blasting away with a power washer while the others scraped off gunk and barnacles and old bottom paint with putty knives. All six of them were soaking wet, their old, dirty t-shirts and shorts soaked right through. Of course the girls being the girls, there wasn't a single bra amongst them. It was as sexy a scene of female workers as you'll ever see anywhere.

The minister had heard about Oar House, but he was fairly new in town and hadn't seen the barge or its crew 'in the flesh' as it were. After the fishing boat was launched and the christening ceremony was over, he lingered behind so as to have a chat with Momma. She was busy too, opening five-gallon cans of bottom paint and getting the paint rollers set up and ready for the girls.

"Hello Pastor. Beautiful day, isn't it?" Momma said as the black-robed young man approached.

"Yes Ma'am, it certainly is one of God's better efforts," the pastor said.

They introduced themselves and the pastor helped Momma move one of the heavy cans so she could open it.

"I've heard about you folks," the pastor said, "and I'm glad to get a chance to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too Pastor," Momma said. "I hope you've heard good things about us."

"That depends on how you look at things I guess," he said.

As he said it he was looking at things quite intently, those things being all the lovely tits on display, jiggling beautifully under soaking wet t-shirts as the girls all worked with their arms over their heads.

Momma knew the look in his eyes well, and had a feeling she could add a new 'friend of Oar House' to the long list. A business like hers could never have enough friends in high places.

"I'm afraid today's not a very good day to meet everybody Pastor," Momma said. "Why don't you come visit us some quiet day. Late mornings are a nice peaceful time. You could meet all the girls, and I'd love it if you'd bless this humble ship of ours. It'd bring me some comfort the next time a hurricane rolls in."

"Momma, I'd be delighted to bless this ship," the pastor said. "Lord knows we can all use all the help we can get in a hurricane."

Momma told the pastor were he'd be likely to find them, and after another big eyeful of jiggling tits he left them to their work.

A few days later, on a warm, humid morning at the edge of an uninhabited marsh, a small aluminum skiff approached Oar House, pushed through the sparkling water by a buzzing little outboard motor. A man dressed in black was at the controls, the little boat gliding gently up to the boarding ladder as Momma spread word to the girls who was arriving. There was a bit of a scramble as two naked sunbathers high-tailed it down off the top deck to put on some respectable clothes.

"What a pleasant surprise!" Momma said as she walked the side deck to greet the pastor as he ascended the boarding ladder. "You're just in time for my famous sticky buns."

"That'll be fine!" the pastor said.

Dressed in a short-sleeved black clergy shirt and black pants, the pastor looked younger and certainly fitter than the other day in his flowing robe.

Donna Lee was the first to join them on deck, dressed in her finest Sunday-go-to-church clothes. This time she had chosen a pastel yellow dress, below the knee of course, trimmed with a white sash and a white collar. A pretty white bonnet with a yellow bow and a wide, lacy brim set it off perfectly.

"Pastor, I'd like you to meet Donna Lee," Momma said. "She's been with me for nine years now, isn't that right Donna Lee?"

"The best nine years of my life," Donna Lee said as the pastor took her hand in both of his. "Momma's made a real home for us here."

"I've recently done some ministering in Atlanta, and I do believe you sound like you're from over that way," the pastor said, still holding her hand.

"Well yes sir I am! I'm from Decatur!" Donna Lee said with a beautiful smile.

Coralee and Ashley were the next two out into the sunlight to greet the pastor, followed by Lisa Lou, Red and Taylor. All had nice dresses on, not quite up to Donna Lee's standards, but nice and respectable. Lisa Lou and Red's bare feet gave away a little bit of mischief though.

"My, my," the pastor said with a smile. "Pretty girls on a summer morning. I don't think there's a better way to prove God exists."

They all made their way into the main party room to get out of the hot sun. Momma brought out a tray of sticky buns that were still warm from the oven. Donna Lee poured coffee for everybody, and the conversation was polite and church-like. After two big sticky buns and two cups of coffee the pastor spoke up, his voice soft but forceful.

"Please join me on the deck of this fine ship, so we can bring the blessings of the Lord to protect y'all on your journey."

The pastor stood outside the door to the wheelhouse with everyone gathered around, and said his blessings. Everyone bowed their heads in prayer.

"Donna Lee, would you like to give the pastor a tour?" Momma asked when the little service was over.

"I'd be happy too Momma!" Donna Lee said. "Pastor, would you care to join me?"

She took his arm and led him around to the screened in back deck, in through the spotless kitchen, and down the narrow hallway with all the little bedrooms. The pastor was fascinated by all the different colors in all the rooms, and the personalized decorations. Lisa Lou's pink room in particular caught his eye, although Donna Lee was pretty sure it was Momma's painting on the wall—the one of Lisa Lou on all fours with her pretty little pussy showing—that really made the pastor linger there.

Donna Lee's room was at the end of the hall, one of two rooms with an extra window which brought in a nice fresh breeze on that humid morning. Painted a pale yellow even lighter than her summer dress, it was a bright cheerful room, with one of Momma's non-erotic paintings on the wall — two birds on a branch touching their beaks together in front of a bright blue sky. It was also slightly bigger than the other rooms—a privilege of seniority—with just enough room for a nice upholstered chair next to the bed.

"My goodness Donna Lee, you are a serious reader," the pastor said as he perused her bookshelves.

"Do you like to read Pastor?" she asked.

"Can you keep a secret my dear?" he asked.

"I'm very good at that Pastor. Nothing leaves my lips," she said seductively.

"I'm partial to a romance novel now and then," he said quietly. "Thank the Lord for e-books, because I used to have to go out of town to buy the paperbacks. I see you like a little bit of the steamy yourself."

He pulled a paperback off the shelf and settled down in the easy chair. The cover showed a woman in a tiny, torn dress nestling against the muscled chest of a mostly naked man, his long hair blowing in the wind.

"It is ironic, isn't it?" Donna Lee said. "Living the life I do, you'd think I'd want to read about something else."

"I believe God made some people to be happy doing certain things," the pastor said. "I believe you're one of those people Donna Lee. Rarely do I see someone as content with their life as you seem to be."

"You know pastor, I feel...like I bring pleasure into peoples lives. Like I'm doing good here," she said. "Does that sound ridiculous, coming from someone like me?"

Donna Lee took off her bonnet, hung it on a hook, and fluffed her hair in the mirror.

"Before I met you I might have said yes," the pastor said, "but now, knowing you a little bit as I feel I do, no, not ridiculous at all."

Donna Lee smiled. It was a magical smile that she possessed, and it had a powerful effect on men.

"It's so quiet and peaceful," the pastor said. "I wouldn't even know there was anybody else on board."

"I believe they're out on the back deck, enjoying this summer breeze," Donna Lee said as she sat on the bed, curling her legs up around her. "I do love it when they're back there. It gives me a wonderful sense of privacy, like I'm the only woman in the world. Have you ever read a story like that Pastor, where it's just you, and the only woman in the world?"

"I believe I should write one, just like that," he said. "Would you like to be a character in a book? I believe you'd be just the one for such a story."

"Oh my! Wouldn't that be fun! To be a character in a book!" she said, with a smile that was at once childlike and sexy as all get-out. "What would we do? Would you be the man?"

"I believe I would be," the pastor said, with a growing twinkle in his eye.

"Would it be steamy hot, like it is today?" Donna Lee asked.

"Yes, I believe it would," the pastor said.

"The men in those books, they rarely wear shirts you know, and even less when it's steamy hot," Donna Lee said. "And there's lots of lingerie on the women, all the better to feel the breeze on your skin. Shall we pretend Pastor? I do like to pretend."