Sailing Away

Lance returned with a tray on which there were a variety of goodies, including my first taste of caviar, (very fishy and very salty) a good soft Camembert, some small slices of imported rye, and the best little ultra thin slices of some sort of ham I could not identify, but loved the taste of.

We drank champagne with the vittles and got to know one another. We talked of his work and my work. From time to time as we chatted, he would reach to touch my hand or arm, and once my bare knee. He seemed very interested and asked about my literary favorites. We followed the meal with bits of mixed berries, melon, and other fruit. As we ate, we talked more. Or mostly, lance talked to me and I answered with uneducated grunts.

"When we finish our victuals and get out a bit farther, we'll put up the sails. That's when the fun begins. Since there are only the two of us, you will be the crew and I will be the captain. We'll give it a run through first and then go to it. On a modern boat with electric winches and all it is really pretty easy. Two things you need to know right away. Once the sails are up, never move around the boat without a tether. That will be like a rope around your waist with a clip on it. This," showing me, " is the lifeline. When you move around the boat in bad weather or under full sail, always clip yourself to the life line then unclip for a second, move to the next section of lifeline, then hook up again, like this, see. Second, watch out for the boom. See that large pole there with all the canvas rolled up on it. Well when we operate the winch, it will pull all that sail up to the top of the mast, up there," pointing, " when the ship tacks quickly, that's turns fast in lay terms, the boom will swing from one side to the other. If you are not paying attention, it will clobber you and dump you in the sea, maybe knock you out!"

I was feeling totally inadequate and a bit frightened, but Lance reassured me. "Since we aren't

really going anywhere and the wind is pretty steady, the only reason to tack is to keep abreast of any large swells that might develop. So don't worry. Trust me, you are going to love this.

Engines off, sails unfurled, winching, hauling, cleatting done, and the boat on auto pilot to maintain our course, Lance called to me from the bow. "Hook up to the lifeline and come forward to me." I complied. I had had no idea such a large boat would tilt so far when making way under sail. The deck was very slanted and difficult to walk on, not to mention bouncing up and down on the waves, and I moved forward cautiously. I was very glad I had my new deck shoes,

Once in the bow, I spied Lance standing at the very front of the boat. The wind blew his hair back from his fine features, and salt spray flung itself in his face every few seconds. He looked like the mast head of some ancient Pirate ship. There was a gleam in his eye like dark fire. He leaned toward me, keeping one hand on the lifeline, and reached out his hand. I disconnected from the lifeline and reached toward him. He pulled hard and I lurched forward into his arms. He maneuvered me in front of him and we moved out about three feet onto the bow sprit. He held me against him, one arm crooked around my body from armpit to waist, the other behind him, hopefully clinging to the headline. The boat leaned strongly to one side and the bow rose and fell about three feet with each wave we crested. Held there in his arm, against his powerful body, I felt no fear. My trust in Lance was total. I had never felt so excited, so exhilarated I my life. Every few seconds, a wave would crash over the bow, dousing us with cold salt spray, and each dousing was as a new baptism. Stretched out ahead of us, a golden highway lay upon the sea, beckoning us to sail away into the sun. I felt so free and perfect. Still holding onto Lance's arm with one of mine, I reached behind me to touch him, to try to convey to him the depth of my feeling, to communicate how important this moment had become to me. Lance surprised me by kissing the palm of my hand. Just the softest merest touch of his lips on my palm. I gasped at the intensity of the current that shot through me. I closed my eyes and lay back easily against his strong body, trying to melt into him. He slipped my forefinger between his lips and began to lick and suck it. I clearly felt the rising hardness of his manhood behind me, pressing against me, not with any urgency, but as if to make a simple statement. "I am Here!"

It is impossible to determine how long we stood there, faces into the wind, our bodies pressed together, but soon proper control of the vessel took precedence over our mutual joy. We returned to the cockpit and sat beside one another. But now a subtle change had come over our relationship. Either we were on the verge of something heavier, something deeper, or we would return to shore, happier and wiser, but separate.

"Why did you do that to my hand, my fingers?" I asked.

"Did you not like it? Are you disgusted with me?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I am just afraid that you. . . you. . .I don't know. You might. . . "

"Seduce you? Make love to you? Well, I might. I think that mostly depends on what you decide. Do you want me to take you back, take you home? I will if that's what you want."

"No," I answered perhaps too quickly. "Er. . . that is. No I don't want to go back, don't want this, this time, our time to end, I want to be with you, but. . . I. . . that is. . . I don't know what else I do want, where I want this, us to go."

"Well," Lance said. "Why don't we just see what comes natural to both of us, enjoy a day at sea and take it from there. I say again, at this point anything that happened would be up to you."

"Up to me? Why up to me?"

"Well, I decided that night at your party that I wanted us to be together, to be with you, get to know you. I like you very much and find myself very attracted to you. So naturally I would try to seduce you. But you always retain the right to say no to anything."

"You promised that night to always tell me the truth, you remember?"

"Oh yes, I remember."

"Will you tell me the truth now?"

"Now and always."

"Did you bring me out here to, er, to.. . You know, to have sex with me?"

"I want to be very careful to answer you in such a way that I don't break my bond of trust with you at the same time that I remain honest and true to myself. Yes, I was extremely attracted to you at once, wanted to 'have sex' with you as soon as I saw you, but my motives in asking you to sail were more than that. Did I bring you out her because there was no escape, out here in the middle of the ocean? No! I brought you out here because I wanted to share the excitement and joy that sailing brings me. I am quite a bit older than you, in fact, nearly twice your age, so it feels strange, makes me feel a bit like a pedophile even having you here. I almost didn't ask you. That's why it has to be you who decides. But in all sincerity, for me this is the way it works.

I look on this little journey as a kind of date. When you, that is when I, ask someone on a date, there is always the hope, the possibility that we will hit it off and share sex, love making, I call it. And that we might even get closer than that, establish a relationship that goes deeper. Aren't we all looking for that, for deeper connections, for that one person, our 'soul mate' to share our lives with. So yes, I brought you out here in the hopes that we might make love, but only as a part of a deeper, more meaningful way of making a bond, a relationship between us. You just might be that one person, that match to my soul. But how would I know, how would you know if I never tried. So I asked you, hoping you would agree. And here you are."

"I am easy and comfortable," lance continued. "Maybe you'll make love with me today, tonight. If you grow to love sailing as much as I, maybe we will make love on the tenth date, maybe the fiftieth, maybe never. As I said, that's entirely up to you. I know this is kind of a long-winded answer to a simple question, but I like to try to be clear." I was about to speak, but Lance held up his hand. "One thing you can be sure of. I might try anything, but 'no' is still 'no'. I will apply all my seduction techniques try my damnedest to turn you on to me, because it is what I do, how I live, how I love, but If at any time you want me to stop trying, to stop anything. All you have to do is say 'no'."

"Listen, Lance, this is all a bit much for me. I know you mean well, but I, well I . I don't know anything. Even if I wanted to say yes to you, I wouldn't know what I was agreeing to. It's all so new to me. I have never been on a date with a girl, let alone a man. You, you, you are. . . are. . . the most interesting and exciting person I have ever met. By far. I. . . I. . . Listen to how I am stuttering. I can't even form a coherent thought when I am this close to you. I am extremely attracted to you. When we were up in the bow, when I was, er. . . in. . your arms, I felt so safe, so secure, but also extremely excited. The sea, the spray, the sunlight, well. . . you know. I was not at all afraid of you, afraid of what you might do to me. I knew you wouldn't attack me, wouldn't hurt or rape me. But I was, er, uh. . am afraid of what might happen next,because I never, you know, er.. have, uh, er, done anything at all.

"Neal," Lance stopped me, grasping me on both biceps, "Everything is cool. Take it easy. I will take it as slow as you like. Meanwhile, let's just enjoy our little adventure." As he said these words, he placed his open hand on my face tenderly, the most intimate gesture I had felt up to then. "Can I get you some more champagne, or anything else?"

"Do you ave a pop, something non-alcoholic?"

"Of course, Coke, Pepsi, Limonada."

"What's leemonahda?"

"It is the kind of soda that they drink in Greece. It tastes like lemonade, a little, but a bit resiny, like just about everything Greek, but it is carbonated. I picked up a few cases the last time I was over there."

"Could I try that?"

"Commin' right up. Take the helm."

"Aye, aye captain." At that we both laughed.

"That's right, Lance said. I am the captain, the law at sea. You must obey me out here."

"See I told you you brought me out her to take advantage of me. You can do anything you want and I have to say, 'aye,aye, captain'." More laughter.

I absolutely loved the limonada , so tart, so unlike sicky-sweet American soft drinks, and so refreshing. After our drinks, Lance showed me more about guiding a ship, about having to keep her head into the wind, about 'tacking' to change direction, how to 'spill' wind from the sails. I was becoming more and more used to his hands on me, for as we moved about, they were ever present. A slight touch on the shoulder. A momentary pat on the knee or thigh. And that gesture. From time to time he would touch my face tenderly and look directly into my eyes, into the depth of me, and something hard inside me would melt a bit and turn to water.

I knew what he was trying to do, I knew he was trying to get me used to his touch so he could, what,that I didn't know, but was starting not to care. Each time his hands touched me, I longed for him to touch me again. I felt a strong urge to touch him back, touch him there, put my hand on that obvious bulge at the front of his white shorts, but there was no way I could do that. If I did, how would he respond? And where would it go from there. Would I find myself under his heavy body, panting an sweaty? Would that be a bad thing? Oh how I wished at that moment that I had more experience.

Lance had gone forward for something, was momentarily out of my sight when I heard his voice call to me. "Neal, come here! Quick! I made my way to him, forgetting my tether and the life line, almost falling. "Look," Lance said, pointing and gathering me into him with his right arm.

Off to the larboard bow, a school of porpoises gamboled and leaped and played in our wake. It was as if they performed their glorious dance for the two of us alone. Lance held me tight against his body as he had in the bow earlier, but this time he began to gently kiss the back of my neck and that spot just beneath my ear, whispering to me of my beauty, of the joy I brought to him, of how good it was to ave men his arms. Shudders of goose bumps raced over my body. I sighed deeply and lay back hard against him. "Eeep, eeep," sang the porpoises in their play. "I want you badly," Lance whispered in my ear, causing a new wave of shivers. Once again I felt that hard insistent presence against me, behind me. Impulsively, I slid my hand between our bodies, laying the flat of my hand on his hardness through his shorts. Immediately his cock jumped and pulsed under my hand. "What was I doing? What was I letting myself in for?"

"Yes," Lance murmured, "that is good, so good." Neither of us moved for a time. We stood there my back to his front, watching the porpoises leap, scattering gleaming sun-lit shards of spray like silvery diadems, my hand resting there, unmoving. All was still save for the porpoises and the slight pulsing of his penis beneath my hand. The golden highway on the sea stretched ahead of us. Was there also a golden 'us' that stretched ahead into the future? I was beginning to hope there was. There was a rightness and a glory in the air I had never felt before as I turned toward him, lay my head on his broad firm chest and clasped my arms around him. "Oh Lance. I want, but I don't know what I want."

"Will you trust me, let me guide you?"

"Yes!"

"We need to go sit down. This will take a few minutes, will you help me furl the sails?"

"Aye, aye captain. Just show me how." I was pretty sure the boat could guide itself and taking in the sails was unnecessary; pretty sure he was giving me time to change my mind, to make a rational decision. But the rational decision I made this time was not to be rational this time, to seize the day, to seize the moment, let go, abandon rational thought, to set myself free to feel for once.

When the sails were down and we were once again running on diesel, I stood in the cockpit, completely inert, hands down at my sides, waiting for my captain to lead the way. He came to me then, placed his arm lightly around my waist and asked simply. "Below decks in my cabin, or up here on the deck?"

"Could we stay up here where I can hear the ocean, the porpoises, see the sun, hear the gulls?"

"Whatever you want, my buddy, whatever you want."

"I looked up into those dark piercing eyes that once again drew me deep, held me transfixed. "I am afraid, Lance. Will you help me?"

"Yes! Don't be afraid." We stood in silence for a time, nestled together, watching the porpoises who still gamboled. His arm was around me. I was half turned toward him, sort of tucked under his muscled arm, my face flat against his firm broad chest, listening to his heartbeat. He took my other hand and laid my flat palm against the front of his white shorts and I again felt the weight, the heft, the length of him. "Feel me," he whispered to me. "Feel my need for you. Feel it grow."

"What will you do to me?" I whispered back.

"So much. Everything. Not to you. With you. For you. For us. What will you do to me?"

There was a knot in my throat as big as Gibraltar as I replied, "I. . . will. . . do. . . Whatever you want me to. Will you guide me, tell me what to do?"

I waited several very long seconds for his reply, when it came it startled me, challenged me. "Open my shorts and take out my cock."

I hesitated a very long time, not sure I wanted to go down this 'road not taken', not sure what I wanted. Lance did not hurry me, did not speak or encourage me further. He simply waited, his patience infinite, those enthralling ebony eyes beckoning, challenging. My knees were weak and my tongue dry and I could not speak as I struggled with the zipper and button of his shorts. I discovered that Lance wore no underwear. When the last button was undone, his shorts fell to his feet; his cock sprang up like a viper looking to strike. It was the first real man cock I had ever seen, especially up this close. I thought I would be repelled, revolted, but quite the contrary. I thought it one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Lance's penis was long, though not grotesquely so, dark and heavy and covered by a long smooth foreskin over its whole length except for the very tip which protruded as if it were an eye looking up at me, questioning.

My breathing nearly ceased and my heart pounded as I took his fullness into my palm, measuring the weight, the heft of him, looking down at his rampant cock, marking his growth as I held him, feeling the power grow in him, the blood surging, pulsing. Feeling the first surge of the power I would eventually have over him. "Oh god," I gasped. I looked back up into his eyes. "Oh god, what next," I thought. And still he waited.

"What now," I finally managed to mutter, barely audible above the crash of the sea, the call of the gulls, the song of the porpoises, the thrumming of my heart in my ears. I hope he doesn't want to see my dick, I thought to myself. It is so tiny compared to his.

His limpid eyes shone as he answered, "What would you like? Would you like me to touch you? Would you like to sit down?"

"Y. . . y. . . yes, er, ah no. Um, that is. Y. . . yes I'd like you to touch me. uh. . . No don't. I don't want you to see me. I mean see my. . .

"Something wrong with your penis that you don't want me to see?"

And now I really was blushing from the roots of my hair all the way to my toes. "It's just, well, er, I am kinda, oh hell, I am really small, I mean my dick. It is really small, especially compared to what you've got."

"Do you really think the size of your penis would matter to me? I am much more interested in the size of your intellect, your mind. The size and depth of your involvement."

Lance reached to cover my hand with his, holding it against his hardness, then turned, took his arm from around me and reached to unzip and open my shorts. His experience was obvious as he had no trouble opening them with one hand, a feat I could barely accomplish on my own clothes. Skillfully he spread the flap of my briefs, reached in and freed my penis from its confines. Only a little more than the tip stuck out, since my cock was only about half the size of his, slim and pink, cut back tight, the circumcision scars obvious. Despite my excitement, fear and apprehension left me only about half hard.

Lance sighed, "Ah. Beautiful," he whispered in my ear. "What a pretty cock you have!" He slid his hand up and back on me. It felt strange to have a hand on me backwards, with the thumb toward the base of my cock and all four fingers around me. Lance knelt and removed my shorts from around my feet. Reaching up he stuffed my cock back through that stupid flap in my briefs. Then grasping both sides of my tight white briefs, he tugged them down to my feet, removed them also.

He stood away from me for a second, twirling my briefs around on his finger like a lariat, then flung them over the side and into the deep blue sea. As if saying a prayer, he intoned. "May Neal Scott never wear such restraining clothing again. Amen." While we were both laughing uproariously, he stepped up close to me, grasped his prick and mine and rubbed them together. Seeing and feeling his cock alongside mine, rubbing mine, caused sensations in me I had never dreamed of. The mere sight of our two cocks together, the contrast, excited me intensely, his long and dark, heavy and ominous hiding its secrets under a long wrinkled foreskin, mine smaller, about half as large, pink and thin and circumcised . Next, Lance surprised me by kissing me lightly on the lips while continuing to stroke us together. After several more strokes of our joined cocks, Lance let go, went to the cockpit and sat on the cushions, beckoning me to join him.