Selfish Bastard Reforms

Chapter 1

The tiered student lecture auditorium was three-quarters filled with a mixture of students (mostly female) and adults (all female) when the ruggedly handsome 36-year-old Associate Professor Jamieson reached his finale:

"There you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen. A woman will defend her baby to the death but quite clearly modern males are still linked to their ancient predecessors and will hesitate in defending their offspring while considering the outcome of the threat on their dog, their horse or car and their mistress.'

Females rose en masse to give the professor a standing ovation, some with tears sliding down their cheeks.

"Marvelous, provocative, masterful" screamed a red-faced matronly woman who looked as if she might be a nanny.

As the audience flowed from the auditorium, two of Dirk Jamieson's colleagues, one smoking a pipe, the other puffing on an illegal mixture, viewed the inspired look of the females passing them.

"Ah," said the pipe smoker, "Dirk baby has been delivering his spiel to a new batch of student's mothers. The lucky philander will only need to eye the moms and some will willing drop their panties for him."

"Yep, what mothers would come to any lecturer I presented for them on Middle English," said the pot smoker sourly. "Mothers think philosophy is so chic."

Dirk believed what he'd said as it was based on research into the study of human behavior under stress and in family groupings. Quite clearly in many situations affecting women and children, men prove themselves to be bastards. There might be exceptions, but he was not aware of meeting any.

Almost with pride, Dirk regarded himself as a bastard's bastard.

Twice-divorced, entirely as a result of his selfish and insensitive behavior not to mention the other women, he was able to view the subject from the inside, embellish everything with personal observations of absolute fidelity. He enjoyed the company of men and tolerated the company of women provided they kept the moaning down and stopped looking for the fucking time!

He looked at his watch, 5:15 and thought about one of the most succulent women he'd ever met, Idaho Childs, who at that very moment would be packing her sexiest clothes hoping this would be the occasion with her handsome professor would split her labia to gain a sloppy entry.

God, Dirk groaned, adjusting the front of his tight trousers.

He'd suggest to Miss Childs that they get her parents drunk and after they slumped into sleep, his new darling would be invited to do whatever she wished with his body.

Ninety minutes later, he was down at the marina with his carry bag for the weekend, filled clothes, a couple of paperbacks and some booze. As usual, Shenandoah Childs, his last ex-wife's aunt, would provide the fare and present it deliciously at the table and at the conclusion of 3-days of cruising, she would slip him cash toward his cost of bringing a selection of expensive alcoholic drinks aboard the family's sailing vessel. It was a splendid system, in keeping with him thinking only of himself, as the drinks were what he favored.

As Dirk parked his trendy Jeep, he could see Idaho loading hampers and bags on to the metal trolley on rubber wheels used to pull provisions along the jetty to boats. Shannon, as she preferred to be called these days, and Bill must be aboard.

Dropping his carry bag, Dirk stole up behind the 32-year-old divorcee and grasped her around the waist saying, 'Boo.' Idaho squealed, shouted 'Dirk' and pulled his hands up on to her breasts. He nibbled her ear, saying how great it was to see her again.

They loaded the trolley, she locked the 4WD and they began the long walk down the jetty.

"Mom and dad are sorry they can't be with us, grandma is quite ill and they rushed down to see her."

Dirk stopped, looking most concerned.

"What, how will we cope with me knowing nothing about boats and you knowing fuck all?"

"I went through everything with daddy this morning. He's confident that I'll be okay as I've been sailing with him for years. The weather is expected to be quite good this weekend so there will be no navigational requirements except sailing to headings and even you can do that.

He said manly, "We'll sail only in open water during the day and to be anchored back in the lee of an island before nightfall. Piece of cake."

"Oh Dirk, I am so excited. It's been three weeks since you accepted my invitation to this long weekend and made that obscene suggestion that we might be able to snatch time to make love or something that comes within your definition of that.

"Every night I've been thinking of having you inside me. It's been almost three years since we last did it."

"Yeah, don't know how I lasted so long without sex."

"You liar," she giggled, punching him.

While Idaho opened vents, checked the batteries and loaded the fridge and freezer, Dirk took the trolley back to its parking area. Back aboard, he began taking the protective cover off the mainsail. The jib was self-furling.

Idaho came up from below and congratulated him for his initiative.

Ten minutes later they were out of the marina and underway at 4 knots on inboard motor power.

"I thought we would motor to the first safe anchorage and have a cup of coffee."

"Aye, aye, First Mate," she said.

He sighed, as he'd intended to substitute 'fuck' for 'cup of coffee', but miscued. However, he felt his dick was swelling nicely.

After making sure the anchor was holding, he went below.

Idaho was standing in the saloon, naked.

God, she was better that her remembered. She'd lost weight but fortunately not on her breasts; if anything, her tits were fuller.

His hands shook slightly as he reached for them and she was moaning before he even touched her. Dirk had long ago classified Idaho as one of his better fucks, hence the slight shaking: it was all anticipation, almost the best thing about a fuck when you've got over the novelty.

They kissed.

"How do you like them?" she murmured, watching his fingers working a nipple when they came up from that long kiss. "As I've aged, they've got bigger."

"Magnificent. I wish I could say the same for me."

"If I recall correctly, it will be to my comfort if you are less than the size you were last time. Let's see, shall we? Be a darling and sit on daddy's chair over there and unzip. I'm sure that's where they do it as I've heard mother giggling at home when talking about being on board and mentioning 'the chair' in almost reverence in her tone.

Dirk said, forgetting what position would suit him best, asked, "Do you want me facing you, or facing away?"

She said to sit facing her as that would allow them to get a good momentum going.

"I like it this way best," Idaho enthused. "I can see it going in; it looks so big. God, look at it slip in like a snake; it looks as if it belongs there."

That comment made Dirk stiffen further.

She was a great fuck because she was interested in fucking. Not all women are like that, he thought, slipping his palms under her ass cheeks.

She rose upwards, helped by his leverage and she then lifted her arms away, without needing to be asked, allowing him access to her nipples.

"It's good to be back," he grunted from amid tit flesh.

"It's good to be back, but don't leave it so long next time."

"When are you getting married?'

"When I find the right bloke."

"I'll fill in if you fail to find Mr Right."

"What you! I need someone who will love me."

"Oh," Dirk said, sounding disinterested.

At little later she became restless and began moaning, forcing him to say urgently, "It's thickening It's going to shoot any moment."

"Spray my chest, you motherfucker."

He convulsed just the once at that outburst, wondering if she knew he used to bang her mother

Dirk pulled out and didn't have to stoke it; as soon as he looked at her tits, glistening with his saliva, his cock sprayed her chest.

As the first wad landed, right on cue, she was hit by an orgasm and flung her head back in a silent scream. Dirk wondered about that as nobody was about; she could have screamed her head off.

Chapter 2

Next morning, they set out to sea, half-exhausted. Until late at night Dirk had plundered the three orifices until Idaho was pleading him to stop, so tired she was almost incoherent.

Well, feed her, allow her to sleep on and she'll be ready for more, he mused. If she were living with him, he'd raise her level of gym activity a couple of notches.

She appeared at 10.25, looking well and eyeing him sexily.

Thirty minutes later, the direction of the wind changed and it became to blow stronger. Unfortunately, they were well out of the lee of Rankin Island that would have offered some relief from the gusting southerly.

"Let's go back."

"No, we're cutting along nicely," the heartless bastard said. "A bit of white water never hurt anyone."

Idaho agreed to maintain course for another ten minutes when she'd re-assess the situation and make the decision. She strapped on a lifejacket.

"Come on, put yours on," she said. "Dad's rule, if the wind rises above fifteen in open sea, we put jackets on."

"Well, he's not here, is he?" grinned Dirk the helmsman, hunching down to reading his paperback, looking up to check the steering auto-pilot was adhering to the course setting.

A few minutes after he was relieved as helmsman, he went down into the galley to make coffee. He heard Idaho shriek and bounded up the companionway but she was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, he looked astern and saw her, bobbing in the disturbed water.

Jesus! What now?

His attention was diverted with something hitting the hull. It was an orange buoy of a long fishing line.

Although shaken, Dirk had the presence of mind to take a compass reading. He repeated it over and over, committing it to memory as no pen was handy to write it down.

He hauled Child's Play about, expecting to sail straight back to where he'd last seen Idaho, but all he saw was semi-wild sea, looking exactly the same in all directions. He went into irons (pointing directly into the wind, making no headway) and hauled three huge reefs into the mainsail to reduce power as he had no wish to over-run Idaho.

Never before had Dirk realized how utterly featureless the sea could be. With small white-caps amid the unbreaking rollers, it looked like a grayish-green carpet with longitudinal 'bumps', continuing on forever, though there were the islands in the far distance.

This man who cruised through life with students at his beck and call and getting students to research for a pittance to building a database for papers he would write as required by the university, now had real decisions to make. Life-threatening decisions.

It was no time for philosophy, this was time for crunch decision-making.

Dirk's first decision was not to dash down the companionway and radio for help. It was a bad decision, yet understandable because he had no idea of which of the three radios to use or which channels to use.

Still, his academic background clicked in to assist. He looked around and, when just about to give up, he spotted that orange buoy, presumably the one he'd spotted earlier. It was a tiny orange blip on a rough ocean. It just happened to rise on a high swell in the direction he was looking and he saw it.

Spilling as much wind as possible from the mainsail, Dirk sailed over and passed the buoy on a course to the island he clearly identified as Rankin Island. Sailing to the position he'd memorized earlier, the keeler returned approximately to spot he estimated where Idaho had taken her tumble. He sailed for ten minutes with the wind at his back, knowing that the influence of the wind would be pushing Idaho along faster than the tidal drift. She'd said when they sailed around Rankin that it was almost low tide.

Nothing.

Dirk sailed back, managed to find the buoy again and repeated the maneuver.

Again, there was nothing but empty seas.

A third attempt began disastrously. He couldn't find the buoy. When he realized this Dirk screamed in rage as he went to where he thought it was, then sailed on for a while, then turned and ran with the wind.

He thought had he not been selfish, he would have agreed to keep in the lee of Rankin Island. There were rods aboard and bait in the freezer; they could have fished. "You heartless bastard," he shouted into the wind.

"Dirk."

He heard the sound, but it was behind him, coming down wind. But it couldn't be Idaho as she should be ahead of him. Shouldn't she? The truth was he had little idea where he was positioned and where she was floating. The sound could have been a gull.

It came again, much fainter. Dirk knew he should have tried the radio; if he'd played around with the controls of the most likely-looking radio, he would have got someone and they'd have choppers up by now searching, with radar probably picking up something up on her lifejacket.

Suddenly her realized something: that voice had been Idaho's call and it had become fainter the second time because he was sailing much faster that she was drifting. Taking a compass reading he went about, taking short tacks to keep more or less on the same route.

He didn't hear her, he saw her waving.

He waved back and saw her throw both hands in the air in joy and then sink below the surface as a larger roller passed by. She waved again with one hand.

The bathtub captain now had another big decision. He realized the 42ft yacht was big, and not particularly maneuverable, especially in his hands, and in comparison, Idaho was very small.

He didn't have to think; the solution just came to him. Go about, pass her at a safe distance and come back towing a line. He did that, anxious that he did not lose sight of Idaho. He tacked back and as he passed her, he shouted, calmly as possible: "Hi, I'm towing a line; grab it.

She waved in acknowledgement and he watched as she came unbelievable close to grasping the trailing line.

Gravely disappointed, he tried again. He decided that if this attempt missed, he'd unlash the rubber inflatable boat on the foredeck, put the yacht in irons ahead of her and tossed the dinghy over the stern holding a line to it. He'd climb aboard and then row to where she was, if he could find her. It would be tougher to see her that low in the water. But he had to get her.

Dirk tacked again, passing her much closer. Idaho's white faced looked up at him smiling, and she gave him the thumbs up.

It was incredibly easy for her. She didn't have to move; the line came along and she reached out and grabbed it.

As soon as Dirk saw she had the line, he stalled the yacht, tossed on a lifejacket and began hauling Idaho in. She was cold, a little waterlogged but still managed to climb up the stainless-steel steps.

* * *

Idaho heard the noise as she called out cheerfully. "Hi" as she came aboard.

Christ, sobbed Dirk, she was a tough cookie.

Idaho went to him and hugged Dirk, seeing the tears streaming down his face and his chest was heaving; emotionally, he was in a bad way.

In the saloon, Dirk got Idaho stripped down and not even thinking sex, wrapped her in blankets and rushed over to pour her a hot coffee.

"Rum please."

Dirk fetched the bottle from the liquor cabinet, kicking his toe and howling with pain.

They sat, hugging, downing heavily fortified coffee.

"I thought I might survive," Idaho said gamely.

Dirk couldn't believe how resilient she was. She was far calmer than he was.

"My cap blew off and caught in the safety rail. I went over, slipped on the deck and was catapulted over the side. I guess a roller had come through and tipped us a bit to portside."

"Knowing I was in charge, you would have thought you were facing the end." Dirk said glumly.

"Surprisingly, I initially gave you a chance, 40-60, of finding me through your customary persistence. I cursed for not having showed you how to use the radio with emergency channels or the flares and how to plot a precise position. But then I thought my survival involved you second great attribute, you're a sound thinker. It was you, the novice against the wily sea, and I upped the odds of you retrieving me alive to 60-40."

"At times when I was lifted on big swells, I could see Child's Play and sometimes I saw you. I was pleased you were looked so calm, as my life depended on it."

"Calm?"

"Yes calm, my hero."

"Dirk, I must tell you I was cheered when I saw you making those runs downwind, incredibly cheered but we were too far apart. The third one you got it right, and here I am."

"Got it right. I missed my marker, the one thing I had to keep in sight."

"Well, just as well that happened, overwise I would have been in poor condition by tomorrow morning."

"Idaho, you said thinking was my second attribute; what is my first?"

Looking coy, Idaho said, "Darling, could you give me a couple of hours to rest up before I allow you to demonstrate that attribute for our mutual benefit?"

Dirk looked aghast.

"But I can't do that; it would be inconsiderate."

"Inconsiderate? Wow, that might be a new word for you, Dirk. Let's not be too hastily about attempting a personality change. I wouldn't want your principal attribute weakened."

* * *

Students and particular fellow academics noticed a change in Prof Dirk Jamieson. At times he was acting almost considerately and definitely was less demanding, less critical and actually appeared to smile at times. The former noticeably surly guy had gained the nickname from a British professor at the university on exchange, 'The surly bastard'.

After Gareth had explained that 'bastard' used in that context in England meant 'a proper asshole rather than a chap born out of wedlock, the newly concocted nickname for Prof Jamieson, The Surly Bastard, swept through the university.

Theories for The Surly Bastard's change in demeanor were wide of the mark, ranging from the number one choice of females, that he must had changed his diet drastically, to the most favored choice of males, that The Surly Bastard must have found an 19-year old with a servitude disposition to suck his dick expertly.

Surprisingly, a significant number of females gradually swung over to the males' top reason for that significant change of behavior of the once despised professor despite his fabulous turns of phrases in his fast-becoming legendary lecture, 'Mothers Save the Nation'.

The next week, Dirk received a call from Shannon who invited him to visit them the coming weekend.

"I guess I can accept that invitation, but don't understand why I'm receiving it, knowing you can barely tolerate me."

"You rude asshole," Shannon said hotly. "This is not about me. It's Idaho, she's suffering depression. Finally, she confessed to me this morning over breakfast that she's pining for you."

"Pining over me," Dirk said almost flabbergasted. "I thought that girl had more sense than that."

"I did too, darling, but such are the ways of that unfathomable emotion called love."

"Shannon, you just called me darling."

"Oh god, did I?"

"Indeed, you did."

"It's too early for you having been drinking or smoking weed, Shannon."

"Dirk, you a surprising about-face asshole, and this is confidential. Idaho told me how she was tossed overboard when a turbulent roller striking our keelboat on the starboard side. Fortunately, she was wearing a safety vest but alarmingly, she had only you to pin her hopes on to effect a rescue of her bobbing in the unsettled sea far from land."

Dirk said, "She had decided to breathe not a word about that to anyone."

"Shut up, Dirk, the sweet young woman is panicking that you have already dispensed with her."

Dirk said bullshit, Idaho had displayed remarkable courage and endurance and if it hadn't been the need to be urgently marking papers due to be completed by this Friday, he would have been busily engaged in fucking Idaho legless."