Explanation of intent
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Posted:Oct 3, 2022 11:43 pm
Last Updated:Dec 9, 2022 9:33 am 4002 Views
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I am starting this blog to post some erotic stories I have written/plan to write. The stories will all have something to do with urolagnia or urophilia - pee play - which happens to be my particular kink. At least the first three stories will be based on actual events in my life, although the stories have been improved somewhat to make them more titillating. You will have to decide for yourself where the line between fact and fiction lies. That is part of what should make the stories more interesting to read. Enjoy.
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Miriam
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Posted:Oct 3, 2022 11:42 pm
Last Updated:Oct 4, 2022 6:47 am 6638 Views
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I was introduced to pee play by my first wife, fairly early in our marriage. It was kind of a natural progression from our normal sex practices at the time. Linda liked being on top. That gave her more control over the how she was stimulated. And she liked being stimulated orally, which meant she spent a lot of time with her pussy positioned above my mouth. Back then, the second most popular risqué magazine had a section up front where letters from readers were printed, in which readers recounted their sexual escapades. Collections of these letters were also published in thin paperback volumes. Linda bought one of these volumes and therein read a letter from a woman who described exactly the sort of sex we commonly practiced, except she liked to pee in her husband's mouth as she approached orgasm. She claimed doing that gave her extremely satisfying orgasms. So, of course, Linda wanted to try that too. I figured our bed was going to get pretty messy, but I agreed to give it a try. Things were kind of messy that first time, but Linda really got off on having me drink her pee, and I found it pretty stimulating as well. Over the course of the next few days, we figured out how to coordinate things between us, and I could drink her dry without spilling a drop. And she had great orgasms. Over the next few years, pee play became a dominant part of our sex life. In particular, Linda liked to begin the day with an orgasm boosted by pee play, and I came to like the strong flavor of her first morning pee. And then one night, while driving alone, she crossed the centerline in a curve and our pee play came to a crashing end.
After a time, I began looking for someone new, with the idea of enjoying pee play with that someone. Not the easiest thing to accomplish. The Internet was more or less in its infancy back then, so hookup websites like this one did not exist. Or if they did, I never found them. But I did find a website that featured a discussion forum on the subject of golden showers. Through this site, eventually I began exchanging emails with a woman named Miriam, who lived clear across the continent in California. We both wanted to meet, but the logistics were complicated, and we knew that we were too "geographically incompatible" for anything serious ever to develop. However, I had to fly out to San Francisco for a trade show, and I drove down to Monterey to meet Miriam when the show concluded. This is the story of that visit.
We had arranged to meet at an Italian restaurant. I assumed that Miriam wanted the security of meeting for the first time on neutral ground, but when I arrived at the restaurant and saw the table she had reserved, I began to suspect that other considerations may have played a role in her planning. The table was in a booth in a dimly lit back corner of the restaurant. The high backs of the booth all but concealed us from the other restaurant guests and a long tablecloth hung like a tent over the open end of the table. Anything that went on underneath that table would go unobserved – even by the wait staff. Miriam had dropped some hints that our first meeting would be something special, and I began to realize what that “something special“ was going to be. Thoughts of how Miriam might be planning to exploit this “public“ privacy, so filled my mind that I scarcely could focus well enough to introduce myself and get through the “getting to know you” small talk.
We had our wine and appetizers and we both knew there would be a substantial wait before our entrées arrived. Miriam looked at me and announced very simply, “I’m dying to pee.” And then she waited expectantly, with a little Mona Lisa smile on her face. My heart skipped a beat, literally. Any rational thoughts disappeared from my head and all I could think of was the lascivious act I was about to perform – in public. I leaned to one side and slipped under the table. The table had rustic trestle legs at either end, leaving the center free and further obstructing any outside view of the proceedings. It was dim under the table, but still bright enough to allow me to see clearly. Miriam had pushed the back of her skirt up behind her and she was sitting directly on the bench seat of the booth. As I moved under the table, she slid forward and spread her legs wide apart. She wasn’t wearing panties. She was shaved. Her labia were swollen with sexual arousal. I caught the faint shimmer of moisture and the musky scent of a woman in heat. Absolutely consumed with lust, I forgot anything and everything except my desire to taste her and I dove right in. I probed deeply into her vagina with my tongue and she started to pee almost immediately. Her pee was hot, strong and salty, but surprisingly sweet at the same time. I was in heaven. Her stream was a bit weak at first, but built steadily in volume until it became a veritable gusher. I had never practiced the art of swallowing while in this position and I had trouble keeping up. But I got better control after the first few wild gulps and I was able to enjoy the sensation of her pee spurting against my tongue as it filled my mouth. I drank it down without difficulty. After maybe thirty seconds, her stream slowed to a dribble and then stopped. I had lost no more than a few drops. I began to lick Miriam clean and then became truly aware of her clitoris. It was swollen to an amazing degree. I had read a description of a woman’s genitalia as being a “little man standing in a boat”. For the first time (in my admittedly limited experience), I understood the true meaning of this description. I turned my attention to Miriam’s clitoris, alternately sucking, nibbling, pressing hard with my tongue and giving it butterfly kisses with the tip of my tongue. I was having a glorious time. Miriam was too. She grabbed handfuls of my hair and pulled my face hard into her pussy. I could feel spasms in her thigh muscles and see her abdominal muscles clenching for her impending orgasm. I did have enough clarity of thought to wonder how she would appear above table level. Could she remain cool and detached with that Mona Lisa smile, or was some of the frenzied passion below the table leaking out above as well? As Miriam heaved in orgasm, I ended my assault on her clitoris and contented myself with a few gentle licks to her vaginal area. She shuddered with each lick, but continued to hold my head close. Then she began to relax and released her hold on my hair. I took that as a sign she was finished, so I gave her beautiful vulva one last quick kiss, gave her an affectionate squeeze on the thigh and maneuvered myself back out from under the table. I had been under the table (I believe) for little more than two minutes.
Back in my seat, I wiped my mouth and nose with my napkin and combed my hair back into submission with my fingers. Miriam’s face was flushed and there were red splotches on the portion of her chest that was visible above her low-cut blouse. Her Mona Lisa smile had been replaced with a wicked grin.
“Wow!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “We’ll have to repeat that later when we won’t have to be so inhibited.”
“Inhibited??” I thought. “She calls this inhibited?”
We finished our meal literally as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. I can’t recall now what we talked about, mostly because my mind was filled with thoughts of later, without inhibitions. But Miriam later said I held up my end of the conversation well enough. I settled the check and we left. Nobody ever gave any indication that our extracurricular activities had been observed.
I followed Miriam back to her apartment, managing somehow not to wreck the rental car. I was trembling in anticipation. Once inside, we wasted no time before moving into round two, but this time we took the time to enjoy the process. I slowly removed Miriam’s clothing while exploring her body and giving her pleasure through my explorations. She reciprocated in kind. There wasn’t much conversation. We gravitated towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind us. I say slowly, but it couldn’t have taken us more than five minutes to end up naked on the bed with me on my back and Miriam kneeling astride my waist. She pressed down hard on my belly with her pussy, rubbing herself around sensuously while slowly working her way forward toward my face. I got my arms down at my sides so, as she came forward, I could reach up from behind and cup her buttocks in my hands. Miriam would rise up to inch forward, giving me a tantalizing view of the pussy I knew soon would be pressed to my face, and then drop down to grind her pussy into my chest. The wicked grin on her face made it clear she knew the effect she was having on me. It was incredibly stimulating. Finally, Miriam was poised with her sopping, engorged pussy spread wide just above my face. I could wait no more and pulled her vigorously to my mouth. She moaned and writhed with pleasure. She leaned back and rested her shoulders on my knees, which I had drawn up like the back of a beach chair. And then she began to pee. Miriam did not simply let loose as she had in the restaurant. She would release a mouthful and then stop, taking time to grind her pussy into my face and giving me time to enjoy the flavor and the moment before swallowing at some leisure. I would have a moment to probe her vagina with my tongue or give her clitoris some attention and then she would begin to pee again. Each squirt of pee into my mouth caused a jolt of excitement and arousal to shoot through me like an electric shock. This was everything I had fantasized about and more. This continued through three or four cycles, but Miriam’s passion was increasing and I could tell she was approaching a climax. As her muscles begin to clench, she let loose everything she had left in one long, final spurt and then ground herself furiously against my face. As the shudders of her orgasm passed, she abruptly flipped off to one side and pulled me over on top of her. “I want you inside me,” she panted. I was more than ready to oblige. There was no technique, no style. I simply plunged in to the hilt and began to hammer away. Miriam met every thrust energetically and began to climax again almost at once. Which was fortunate, because I wasn’t good for more than maybe a dozen strokes. I tried to hold back, but all I could see in my mind was that tantalizing view of her pussy hovering above my face and I still had the rich, salty taste of her pee in my mouth. There was no holding back. My orgasm drained me completely, both physically and mentally. I collapsed on top of Miriam like I was dead.
But Miriam wasn’t finished with me and, surprisingly enough, I found I wasn’t finished with her. My erection did not simply wither away like it normally does. She continued a slow, rhythmic rocking motion of her pelvis that was extremely pleasurable to both of us. It allowed the violent sensations of our orgasms to transition over into a warm feeling of well being and intimacy. And then she said, “I want you to pee inside me.” That was something entirely new for me. It took some effort to get my flow started, but once started, the sensation was incredible. Miriam reached down and held herself closed around the shaft of my penis. As I filled her vagina, it expanded so I all I could feel was the warmth of my own pee encompassing my penis inside her body. Then she asked me to stop and withdraw very carefully. I did so. We wet her bed to some extent, but not as much as you might imagine. Miriam then had me lie back on the bed while she positioned herself above my face, still pressing her labia to hold my pee inside her. I knew what she was about to do and the electric thrill of the impending act brought my penis back to full life. Miriam dropped down on my open mouth and pulled her hand free. A full load of my own pee shot into my mouth, mixed with my own semen and Miriam’s secretions. More than the flavor, the sheer perversion of what I held in my mouth and the method of delivery excited me beyond belief. I swallowed slowly, loathe to end the moment. I could feel Miriam strain as she tried to coax just a bit more pee from her bladder. I opened wide to accept this last offering. It took a few moments, but she finally was able to give me one last solid squirt. Then she rubbed herself dreamily on my face. After that, we were exhausted and all we wanted to do was snuggle.
Miriam asked me to stay the night, which I wasn’t about to refuse, but I did insist that I had to be out by six the next morning in order to catch my flight home out of SFO. We cleaned up a bit and went to bed. When the alarm went off the next morning, I awoke, hoping Miriam would be in the mood for a little more pee play. I wasn’t disappointed. She smiled at me and stated, “This one’s for you.” She swung around into a 69 position and took my penis in her mouth. I was staring up at her glorious, shaved pussy just inches away from my mouth. The certain knowledge of what was coming brought me to life instantly. She dropped down so I could tongue her vagina and clitoris. After a few seconds, I stopped and simply pressed my open mouth to her urethral opening. Almost immediately, Miriam flooded my mouth with a burst of rich, warm pee. Her morning pee was much stronger than her pee from the night before and it had a different flavor. It was wonderful. I swallowed quickly and opened wide for more. My penis was throbbing with the excitement of the act and the tender ministrations Miriam was giving it. She again filled my mouth with her warm, salty pee and redoubled her efforts on my penis. When she could sense that I was about to climax, she opened the flood gates and emptied herself totally in one long burst. I drank it all down greedily and had a most wonderful orgasm right in the middle of the act. It was like old times with Linda.
I was never able to visit Miriam again. The timing was problematic, then I met someone and she met someone. It just never happened. But I often think of our restaurant escapade with great fondness. If there is another “Miriam” out there reading this, maybe we can arrange to meet – at an Italian restaurant with a secluded booth??
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Alicia
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Posted:Oct 3, 2022 11:33 pm
Last Updated:May 21, 2024 2:48 am 3651 Views
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I am something of a sailing fanatic. I love the challenge of battling Mother Nature to get from Point A to Point B by wind power alone and I love the freedom of being out on the water, far from the distractions and pressures of normal life. You have but one task – to make the boat go where you want it to – or not, as the mood strikes you. For pee lovers, sailboats offer more exotic attractions. The cockpit of a typical sailboat is built like a big bathtub with padded seats all around and open drains in the floor. Everything is pretty much waterproof and "clean up" means dipping a bucket of water from the ocean to flush everything down the cockpit drains. Clothing is more or less optional out on the water (at least in warmer climates) and what you do wear is easy to remove and designed to get wet. Secluded anchorages can be found almost anywhere, that let you do any uninhibited thing that comes to mind, right out in the open air. And if someone in the distance is using his binoculars – well, he can enjoy the show. It simply adds to the excitement to know that someone on that boat half a mile away just might be watching.
Back about 25 years ago, I introduced my then girlfriend, Alicia, to the pleasures of pee play. She became an enthusiastic participant. She loved having me drink her pee and she loved being peed on, although she didn’t much like to drink. She was also very oral, both giving and receiving, and achieved orgasm readily. Altogether, this developed into a very satisfying relationship. Alicia had never sailed, which was all the more reason I was anxious to get her out on the water. So I arranged a two-week, bareboat charter in the British Virgin Islands. We chartered a 37’ Beneteau sloop from The Moorings in Road Town on Tortola. Such a boat is a bit large for just two people to handle, particularly when one of them is a total novice, but a Bermuda rigged sloop is the easiest type of boat to sail and I was confident that Alicia would learn quickly. This is the story of our adventure.
We got down to Tortola on the first day of the charter and went through all of the hassles of provisioning the boat, making the initial joint inventory and taking the mandatory instructional tour of the boat and its facilities. One key part of the tour is the orientation on how to use the marine toilet, commonly known as the “head”. I won't get into details, but flushing a marine toilet is much more complicated than just pressing a lever, and the details differ from mode to model. It is necessary to learn how to use the particular type of head installed in a given boat. After we had signed off on all of the paperwork and were finally alone, I turned to Alicia and said, “Promise me that the only head you will pee in for the next two weeks is mine.” She grinned wickedly and answered, “Well, in that case buster, you had better get this boat out of the harbor PDQ. I need to go right now!” We set to with a will, Alicia because of her need and me because of my anticipation. We left most of the provisions and our possessions unstowed in the salon, simply took in our mooring lines and motored out of the harbor. I really don't like using the engine in a sailboat, but time and the crowded harbor gave us no option. I was in a hurry.
We cleared the breakwaters of the Inner Harbor and motored on past the cruise ship dock. There was plenty of boat traffic about on the water and we were certainly within easy binocular range from either side of the main harbor, but neither Alicia nor I could wait any longer. Alicia had the helm, sitting in the portside aft corner of the cockpit where she could see past the deckhouse to steer. After I had the dinghy streamed out astern and I was sure everything was secure enough for the moment, I joined her in the cockpit and locked down the wheel to hold us on course. Alicia was wearing a sexy pair of shorts and a halter top. I unsnapped her shorts and worked them down and off of her legs. She wasn’t wearing panties. The pale brown fuzz of her pubic hair glistened in the sunlight. I could see that her labia were already somewhat swollen and protruding with arousal. She spread her legs widely, placing her heels on the cushions to her left and right, sliding her buttocks forward and rotating her pelvis upward. Her pussy opened up, shimmering in the sunlight like a pink oyster waiting to be consumed. I wasted no time in doing just that. I knelt down before her and buried my face deep in her moistness. Alicia sighed with pleasure. I began stimulating her with my tongue, but she asked me just to hold still so she could pee. I waited expectantly with my mouth open wide to cover the heart of her pussy. My excitement mounted as I felt her straining to start the flow. It started as a weak spurt or two and then settled down to a strong, steady flow. I drank greedily. Her pee was stronger and more acrid than normal, probably due to the coffee she had drunk that morning. But it tasted like honey to me. As Alicia’s stream dwindled and stopped, I held the last mouthful of her pee, enjoying the warmth and flavor before reluctantly swallowing it down. I had a need to pee myself, and a raging erection to boot. I stayed on my knees before Alicia and slid my pants down to set my penis free. Alicia kept her legs spread wide apart, presenting me with a pulsing pink bullseye to aim for. My erection caused me also to have some difficulty in starting, but I soon had a solid stream splattering hard on her clitoris. Alicia wriggled in ecstasy, threw her head back with her eyes closed, and moved her hand down into my stream to stimulate herself manually. When my bladder was empty, I bent down again to finish the job for her. She gasped as I seized her engorged clitoris between my upper teeth and lower lip and bit gently down. Then I sucked her entire clitoral area into my mouth and thrashed her clitoris with my tongue. Alicia brought her legs up over my shoulders and dug her heels into my back to force my head more deeply into her pussy. She began to heave in orgasm almost immediately, and I eased off. When her orgasm subsided, she sighed deeply and released me from the grip of her legs. I looked up to check our course. We had wandered a bit off to port and were in danger of moving into the inbound traffic lane, but no other boats were close enough to worry about a collision. I glanced astern. A boat had passed us to port during our interlude, on course to enter the harbor. There were maybe half a dozen people in the cockpit. I wondered how much of our show they had caught. I grinned to myself thinking about the shocked faces we might have provoked, although I doubt they could have seen very much. I grabbed a bucket on a lanyard from a cockpit locker, threw it over the side and pulled up a bucket full of fresh, clear seawater. I doused the rear of the cockpit and raised a second bucket full to rinse off Alicia’s lower body and the cockpit cushions. All cleaned up.
It was already early afternoon, but our destination for the day was Little Reef Bay on the eastern side of Peter Island, a passage of only about 10 nautical miles. We had light but steady winds from the west, which allowed us to sail an easy beam reach. We had a well balanced, slightly weather helm with main and foresail set, so there wasn't much work to be done sailing the boat. I was able to lock down the wheel for most of the afternoon. Alicia removed her top, drenched herself with tanning lotion and spent the afternoon scampering naked around the deck, learning the nomenclature and purpose of the many parts of the rigging and deck hardware. Alicia enjoyed learned about sailboats. I enjoyed watching Alicia. Believe me, she wasn’t hard to look at. There was only one other boat in Little Reef Bay when we anchored and it left shortly after we arrived. The snorkeling in the bay isn’t much to brag about (which may be the reason why it is less frequented), but we put on masks and fins and swam around for a time anyway. When we got back aboard, I was occupied for a few moments with stowing gear away. When I turned around, Alicia was sitting on the companionway hatch cover with her legs spread out on either side of the hatch and a wicked grin on her face. Naked, of course. I knew immediately what she wanted. I went over and stepped down onto the second step of the companionway ladder, which put my face right at pussy level. The sun had disappeared behind the heights of Peter Island, but the light was still good. The sight of Alicia’s pink pussy gaping wide before me and the knowledge that it soon would be spurting her warm pee into my mouth left me shaking with lust. I slid my arms under her legs, grasped her buttocks and pulled her to my eager mouth. She tasted of salt water and smelled of coconut oil. As she became aroused through my efforts on her vagina and clitoris, the taste and smell of her female secretions were added to the mix. It was intoxicating. I paused periodically to hold my mouth open over her urethral opening. Alicia rewarded me each time with a mouthful of her rich, salty pee. The position we were in made it easier to swallow than any other I have ever tried. It was like drinking from a glass. Each time she finished peeing, Alicia ground her pussy into my face and moaned with pleasure. She lay back on the hatch cover and massaged her breasts as I began to concentrate exclusively on the area just below the tip of her clitoris. That was her most sensitive spot. I nibbled gently, massaged firmly and tickled lightly, taking my time to maximize her pleasure and bring her up slowly to orgasm. As Alicia reached her peak of excitement, she raised up slightly so she could grab my hair and pull my face into her pussy. She wrapped her legs around my head in a vigorous headlock and ground herself into my face with abandon. I nearly smothered, but what a glorious way to go! As the tremors of Alicia’s orgasm subsided, she lay back on the hatch cover totally spent. Then she announced, “I’m not finished peeing.” I pressed my open mouth to her pussy and she reached down to massage her clitoris gently. Within a few seconds, a powerful stream of her wonderful pee shot into my mouth. I had to work to keep up, but all too soon it dwindled down to nothing. Alicia rocked her pelvis and moaned in obvious pleasure. I continued to work gently on her pussy, cleaning off every last drop of pee and vaginal secretions, giving both of us great pleasure. Then Alicia sat up and told me to stand where I was. She climbed off the hatch cover, squeezed past me in the companionway hatch and stepped down into the salon. This put her face right at penis level. I told you that sailboats offered wonderful attractions. She took my penis in her mouth and began pumping vigorously. Then she pulled back and said, “Now I want to drink yours.” This was rare. Alicia likes the taste of my pee, but gets turned off by excessive quantity. She took me in her mouth again as I struggled to start my flow. When my pee came, she pulled away, tilted her head back and aimed the stream accurately. I watched, fascinated, as my pee foamed into her open mouth. She didn’t actually drink much. She let most of it flow out the corners of her mouth to run down over her breasts to the salon floor. It was an incredibly erotic sight. When I was empty, Alicia swallowed the last of my pee and began giving my penis serious attention. My knees became weak and I had to support myself with my arms on the hatch coaming. It did not take long for me to explode. Alicia squeezed and sucked my penis to get out every last drop. When she was finished, I was finished. Totally.
I cleaned up the salon floor by flushing it with a pail of water. Fresh water this time, since salt water tends to leave a sticky film when it dries. I ran the bilge pumps for about a minute to pump it all out. We stowed away our gear and the provisions and then shared a leisurely meal and a bottle of wine in the cockpit as twilight deepened into darkness. We were both tired from the long day, the sun and the exercise, so we went to bed pretty early. Sometime in the night Alicia awakened me and asked, “Were you serious about me not peeing in the head?” I was groggy, but managed to answer in the affirmative. So she positioned herself over my face, somewhat hampered by the low overhead of the cabin, and said, “I’m too sleepy for sex. I just need to pee.” And pee she did. It was a bit difficult to get my mouth positioned properly in the cramped quarters and I had barely found the mark when she opened up with a flood of strong, salty pee. It gushed into my mouth and it was all I could do to swallow fast enough to keep up. But despite her statement to the contrary, I could tell that Alicia was getting turned on. She was rubbing herself against my face and her fingers were digging into my shoulders. I began to suck on her clitoris and she purred with pleasure. I knew I had her. I worked some magic with my tongue and soon she was humping my face with vigor. Alicia did most of the work, using my face as a sex toy to stimulate herself. Soon she shuddered, arched her back and let out a breathy moan of relief and pleasure. It wasn’t a major orgasm, but it seemed to satisfy her quite nicely. She dismounted to snuggle up beside me. Now I needed some relief. I rolled over to mount her and we coupled slowly and languorously for several minutes until I too reached orgasm. We fell asleep again, both sated and warmed with mutual affection.
The bright light of morning found me once again looking up into Alicia’s marvelous pink pussy. She braced her arms on the bunk above my head and leaned forward, allowing her breasts to swing tantalizingly close above my eyes. Normally, I would have been more than happy to give them my full attention, but this time my mouth was otherwise occupied. Alicia dropped her pussy down onto my eager mouth and immediately released her first pee of the morning. Her stream was slow and steady, allowing me time to savor the rich, strong flavor before swallowing. She peed for a very long time, which was just fine with me. When at last she ran dry, I turned my attention to her vagina, licking away the fluids left from our activities of the night before. Alicia rolled her hips slowly with pleasure, but clearly she was not in the mood for another love session. She lay beside me. I gave her breasts the attention they so richly deserved - and then we got up to start the day. And that is the way the remainder of our two weeks went. Three or four times a day I found myself between her legs, mouth planted on that delicious pussy, drinking all the pee Alicia could produce. Sometimes it ended in sex, sometimes it didn’t. But every occasion was mutually enjoyable. We experimented with every feature the construction of the boat offered, in our efforts to find novel, new ways to engage in pee play. And all unfettered by clothing or conventional morality, in the clean air and bright sunshine. Of all the places we tried, I’d have to say the companionway hatch remained our favorite.
There were some experiences worthy of special mention. One evening, we were anchored in Lee Bay on the west side of Great Camanoe. We had spent several hours enjoying the great snorkeling and had returned to the boat for supper. Alicia was putting our gear away in one of the cockpit lockers, giving me a most enticing rear view of her pussy. By this time, she was a golden bronze all over. But any time her labia parted, the bright pink of her pussy would shine forth, looking all the more irresistible due to the contrast. I was sitting on the sill of the companionway hatch, facing the stern, with my feet in the cockpit. Alicia came over and stood astride of my legs, offering her pussy for my oral approval. I approved – at length. But this time, instead of peeing, Alicia sat down on my lap, impaling herself on my penis, with her legs on either side of me, extending into the salon through the hatchway. I couldn’t move. But Alicia could. She didn’t bounce, but rather rolled her pelvis forward and back, providing both of us with plenty of stimulation. She held onto my shoulders and leaned back, arching her back to present her breasts to my hungry mouth. It didn’t require much of this for both of us to reach orgasm. We sat there, still coupled, basking in the warm afterglow of our lovemaking and the setting sun. Then I noticed a different sort of warm afterglow down below. Alicia was peeing. Her warm pee pooled between our bodies and flooded down over my testes. As she rolled her pelvis slightly, I could feel the warmth of her pee working its way partially up her vagina. This was a most unusual sensation and provided a very enjoyable final act to our lovemaking. Alicia dipped her hand in the pool of pee and raised it to my lips, but this was the only taste of her pee that I got on this occasion.
Another day, we visited The Baths on Virgin Gorda. The Baths are a jumble of huge boulders, some as big as houses, that are piled up on a beach near the southern tip of the island. This profusion of boulders has many nooks and crannies, some accessible only from the water, that can be explored, almost like exploring a cave. We had anchored off the beach and had swum in to shore, wearing bathing suits for a change, because of the presence of families. We poked around among the boulders, exploring the “caves”, as were many other visitors. The passages echoed with the sound of voices, many of them ’s voices. We had worked our way back into an area that was more difficult to reach than most when I heard Alicia call my name. I worked my way around a boulder, following the sound of her voice. I found her seated on a high stone “throne”. She had removed her bikini bottom and sat there with her legs braced far out to either side. Even in the dim light, the pink of her pussy shone like a neon sign. I was immediately engulfed by a wave of pure lust, but at the same time I was petrified that someone, perhaps a , would “walk in” on us. Alicia later admitted that she shared this fear, but in her case it had only served to heighten her excitement. Casting caution to the winds, I placed my head between her thighs and began to lick that glorious pink pussy. Alicia peed in short spurts at intervals and I captured what I could, but often I was out of position to catch it all. I could tell that Alicia was reaching a fever pitch of excitement. I began to concentrate on her clitoris, nibbling at it with my teeth and lips and being much rougher than normal. Alicia reacted with ever increasing abandon, grabbing the back of my head with her hands and pulling my face into her pussy with all the strength she possessed. In short order, she erupted into the most violent orgasm I ever witnessed her to have. She convulsed so sharply that she nearly slid from her perch. She even let out a cry of rapture, something I had never heard her do before. As the spasms of her orgasm passed, Alicia eased her hold on my head and began to stroke my hair in a most gentle and affectionate manner. I lapped gently at her vaginal area. I felt her pussy tense with the effort to pee, so I stopped licking and simply opened my mouth to receive her offering. I was rewarded with a long, solid stream of pee that filled my mouth more than once. As she peed into my mouth, Alicia continued to stroke my head affectionately while she sat there with her eyes closed and with a very relaxed and dreamy look on her face. It was a moment I hated to see end.
One evening, we anchored in The Bight on Norman Island and rowed the dinghy over to the William Thornton Floating Bar and Restaurant for dinner and drinks. The prices were high and the quality wasn’t – no ice in the drinks. In any case, it turned into a fairly long evening and Alicia drank a fair amount. As we were rowing back to our boat, she announced, “I’m not going to make it. If you want my pee, you are going to have to drink it here.” Now this was a crowded anchorage. There must have been twenty or more boats at anchor or tied off to mooring buoys. And the lights from the Willy-T shown brightly across the water. The dinghy was a six or seven foot inflatable with two wooden seats positioned athwart the side tubes. I could tell right away that this was going to be adventurous. I unshipped my oars and stowed them beneath the seats so they couldn’t get knocked overboard. A slight breeze drifted us through the anchorage. Alicia had removed her shorts and shoes. She sat on the forward seat and lay back with her head on the prow of the dinghy. Due to the shallowness of the dinghy, her knees were raised up as if her feet were in the stirrups of a gynecologist’s examination table. I tucked my feet under the aft seat and knelt down between her legs. It was a cramped fit to get my mouth down to her pussy, but I made it. There wasn’t much that was sexually arousing for either of us and, with my mouth positioned above her pussy, I could tell I was going to have a hard time swallowing anything. But it was the principle of the thing. We were in the tenth or eleventh day of our trip and thus far I had managed to drink nearly every drop of pee Alicia had produced. I lowered my mouth to her pussy and she quickly began peeing. I got the first mouthful easily enough, but I had to close my mouth to swallow. The stream splattered in my face, causing me to back off, while Alicia continued to pee in a high arc. After that, it was like drinking from a water fountain. I turned my head and approached from one side, slurping her pee into my mouth. Alicia got the giggles at the sight and had trouble keeping her stream flowing. The arc rose and fell, making it even harder for me to capture her pee. Then a drunken male voice reached out over the water, “Go for it, boy!” That broke both of us up. We rolled on our sides laughing and the rest of Alicia’s pee puddled in the bottom of the dinghy. I don’t know which boat the voice might have come from and I don’t know if the comment was even addressed to us. I certainly don’t know if he could see exactly what it was we were doing. Whatever the case, the moment was past. I gave Alicia’s pussy an affectionate kiss, shipped my oars and we continued on our way. Alicia gaily waved her shorts to our unknown admirer as we rowed away. When we got back to our boat, we stripped down for a midnight swim and afterwards made slow and passionate love. The evening was by far not a waste, even if we did “waste” most of Alicia’s pee.
All too quickly, the two weeks sped by. We boarded the small twin engine plane for the flight back to San Juan. We watched from the plane with true regret as the islands passed away beneath us.
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Danny
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Posted:Oct 2, 2022 5:54 pm
Last Updated:Oct 7, 2022 2:40 am 3676 Views
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Back in the spring of 2011, I began a long-awaited solo circumnavigation by sail. I have a 42’ Whitby center cockpit ketch that I have rigged for single-handing. I was 57 at the time and had been dreaming of this adventure since reading a book about such a voyage at age 11. I left Wilmington NC in April, and basically just sailed east along the 36th parallel to Gibraltar. I stopped off at Gibraltar and at several other spots of interest in the western Mediterranean and by the middle of June I was at the Greek island of Tinos in the southern Aegean. I was moored in the harbor of the city of Tinos. In Tinos harbor, you use what they call a Med Moor, where you drop a bow anchor well out, back in under power, moor stern-to to the quay and then haul in on the anchor line to hold your boat away from the quay. The quay actually is a broad, paved promenade that circles most of the harbor. It is lined with cafés, ice cream shops and the like. Each evening, it seems that the entire population of Tinos turns out for a leisurely stroll along the quay. When you are moored stern-to, you feel somewhat like a zoo animal on display, as the passers-by gaze down into your boat. But for the most part, they are reasonably polite about it and don’t stare.
One evening, I was setting up to grill a steak in the cockpit. To digress, you don’t find a lot of beef at the restaurants and markets in Greece. Chicken, mutton and fish yes, but not much beef. And certainly not inch thick, aged Angus, ribeye steaks. But I had stopped off at Naxos on my way to Tinos and had bought a case of a fairly decent red wine and a pair of halfway decent steaks, which I had been marinating in some of the wine for the last two days. Tonight was feast time. Steak, baked potato and salad. About the time the coals were ready, I became aware that I was under some degree of scrutiny from a petite, rather scruffy looking girl wearing heavy boots and carrying a large backpack. Europe has a network of cheap hotels (high class crash pads for students) known as youth hostels. They also sell something called a Eurail Pass for a few hundred dollars that lets you travel by train as often as you like to any country you like. from all over the world like to backpack through Europe for a summer, using a Eurail Pass and the youth hostels to keep costs down. I figured this girl was one of those.
I got the steak started and sat down near the grill to savor the aroma. The girl was standing at the edge of the quay astern of my boat and just staring. Impossible to ignore.
“Hi,” I said. Kind of a lame opening, but then I have never been known as a witty conversationalist.
“Are you an American?” she responded. She might possibly have deduced that from the grilling steak, for which Americans are famous, but I suspect she had spotted the small US flag I fly from the starboard shrouds on the mainmast (I know, not proper flag etiquette).
“Yeah,” I answered and for a time neither of us said anything. I studied her face. She was pretty, but a bit dirty and disheveled. I estimated her age at maybe twenty, but she had the look of a waif about her. That forlorn look in a ’s eyes that says she hasn’t a friend in the whole wide world. It was pretty clear that her eyes were locked onto my steak.
“I have another one of those in the cooler, if you’re hungry,” I offered. She just nodded.
“Well, take off your boots and come aboard.” I headed below to start another potato baking. That was going to be the limiting factor. By the time I got back topside, she was seated near the grill, gazing at the steak the way a starving lion looks at an impala calf. Her backpack was lying on the aft cabin hatch cover.
“That one’s yours,” I said. “Flip it when you think it’s time. Where are you from?” She had spoken only four words, which gave me no chance to pick up an accent.
“Newton, Iowa,” she answered, and offered nothing more. I really hadn’t expected her to be an American.
After a time I said, “I’ve been there. Selling microprocessors to Maytag. Long time ago. They closed that plant after Whirlpool bought out Maytag, didn’t’ they?”
“Yeah,” she answered, but added nothing more. Not much of a conversationalist herself. The steak had about seven minutes on the first side. I guess she figured that was enough. She took up the grill tongs and flipped it.
“My name is Bob,” I offered. “What’s yours?”
“Danny,” she answered. “Daniella, actually, but nobody ever calls me that.” Wow. Nine whole words. Obviously, she was beginning to loosen up. Or maybe anticipation of the steak was making her giddy.
I went back down to the galley and took the original baked potato out of the oven. What was now my potato had another forty minutes to go. I reached through the salon hatch to place the potato, butter, sour cream and the salad on the seat next to the hatch.
“I’ve got coke, tea, beer, wine and Jack Daniels,” I called up to Danny. “The coke, tea and beer are not all that cold. The wine is warm. The JD is JD. What’s your pleasure?”
“What kind of wine is it?” Danny asked.
“Red,” I answered. “More than that, I haven’t a clue. Something local out of Naxos. Can’t read the label. Can’t pronounce the name. But it isn’t bad. That’s what I’m drinking.”
“I’ll have some of the wine,” she decided. I passed up the bottle I already had open, along with two glasses.
I came back up topside and watched Danny fix up her potato, which was large by European standards, but nothing like an Idaho russet. By the time she had it ready, the steak was done. She flipped it onto her plate and dug in. Then it dawned on her that I wasn’t eating.
“I thought you said you had another steak,” she stated accusingly, with a bite of steak on her fork, poised to pop into her mouth.
“I do,” I answered. “But it takes fifty minutes for the potato and there isn’t much point in grilling the steak until the potato is about ready.”
“So I’m eating your supper.” Her voice was flat, without inflection.
“After a fashion, I suppose. But no big deal. I can wait.”
That statement seemed to get to her in a way I did not expect. I thought for a moment she was going to start crying. Nothing more was said until she had finished. Didn’t take long.
“Looks like you haven’t been eating all that well lately,” I ventured. Long, uncomfortable pause.
“No,” she finally admitted. And after a moment added, “It’s a long story.” Obviously, she didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t push.
We sat there in silence, drinking our wine, not uncomfortable, but not exactly congenial either. After maybe fifteen minutes, I went below to fix some more salad. I got out the other steak and a second bottle of wine and took them topside. Fortunately, the coals were still doing well. After the steak was done on the first side, I flipped it and went below to get my potato. Then Danny got to watch me eat. I wasn’t as ravenous as she had been, so it took longer. The steak was good, but it wasn’t exactly what you might call Texas steakhouse quality.
When I was about halfway through, Danny asked, “This boat have a shower?”
Intriguing question. “Yes, but I’ll have to show you how to use it,” I answered. “Nothing on a sailboat is easy. Have you ever used a head?” She had no idea what a “head” was, much less ever gone through the complicated process of using a marine toilet.
When I finished my steak, Danny grabbed her backpack and I took her below to the forward head. It is a toilet and shower, all built together in a small closet. I showed her how to work the valves and hand pump to fill and empty the toilet bowl and I showed her how to run the shower – a simpler process, since it uses an electric pump.
“There isn’t any hot water. The water is heated only when I run the engine, which I don’t do a lot of. There are only 200 gallons of fresh water, so be quick,” I cautioned.
I went back topside to clean up. I transferred everything back down to the galley, where I put away what had to be put away and washed the dishes. I went back topside, used a squirt bottle to kill the last of the coals and then carried the grill up to a trashcan on the quay to empty the ashes. I left the grill on the stern to clean in the morning. When I went below, I couldn’t hear a sound.
I called, “Danny?” Nothing. I went forward to the head. Wet, but empty. Danny’s backpack was open on the floor in the forward cabin, but no Danny. I went aft to my cabin. And there she was.
Danny was sprawled out on my bunk, naked, in one of the most erotic poses I have ever seen, fast asleep. I mean, nothing was left to the imagination. She had very nicely formed breasts, even when she was lying on her back. She was a natural honey blond. Her pubic hair was sparse. Her labia minora were small and barely showed at all, the labia majora were large and “pouty”. The tip of her clitoris just barely peeked through up at the top. God, she looked delicious!
It took me about half a second to transition from an avuncular gentleman with nothing but honorable intentions, into a horny bastard. A very horny bastard. For maybe the previous ten years, my “woodies” could more accurately have been described as “rubberies”. But let me tell you, in about two seconds flat, I grew a woody that would have put a rolling pin to shame. Since it was confined in my pants, it actually hurt. First time I could remember that happening since I was a in high school.
And then “Good Bob” and “Bad Bob” began the debate.
“We aren’t going to take advantage of this poor girl, are we?” Good Bob opened up. “She’s a long way from home and obviously has some serious problems.”
“Like Hell we’re not!” responded Bad Bob. “She came back here deliberately to your cabin, naked, and laid herself out like a banquet. What do you think she expects you to do? Hold her hand while she confesses her sins? You haven’t had anything like this in your bed in forty years. You aren’t stupid enough to pass up this invitation are you?”
“What about disease?” countered Good Bob. “You don’t know what she has been doing or with whom. She could have AIDS or syphilis or the clap or God knows what! You can’t risk it!!”
“Would you look at that pussy,” Bad Bob coaxed. “You know you want to kiss it, lick it, wake up that clitoris and make it stand tall! Nothing that looks that good to eat could possibly be hazardous to your health.”
I knew who was going to win this argument. I was stripping out of my clothes as fast as I could.
Good Bob gave it one last try. “But she has passed out!” he wailed. “She couldn’t have known what she was doing when she came back here!”
“Like Hell,” asserted Bad Bob. “Sure, she had a couple of glasses of wine, but that isn’t enough to put anyone down. She is just worn out and fell asleep before you stopped fooling around and finally showed up.”
I wasn’t any too certain about the validity of that last argument, but I didn’t care. I was going for it. I hadn’t been standing very close to my razor of late, so I ducked into the aft head to shave off my whiskers, brush my teeth and wash up a bit. And then back into the cabin. I lifted Danny fully up onto the bunk, shifted her a little to one side and crawled in beside her. She stirred and grumbled a bit under her breath, but immediately went back to snoring softly. I began to think that maybe Good Bob had the right idea after all. Maybe she had passed out. But God, what was I supposed to do with that woody?? I mean, you never could tell when I might get another one like it! But Good Bob prevailed, more or less. I rolled Danny over onto her side and spooned in to her back. My woody wasn’t exactly where I wanted it to be, but it was real close.
All of the preceding was written simply to explain how it was that I found myself on my back the next morning with a beautiful woman, forty years my junior, astride my hips, getting ready to impale herself on my still very respectable woody. I could hardly believe my eyes. If I hadn’t explained everything so thoroughly, you wouldn’t believe it either.
Danny had her hands braced on my shoulders. Her breasts hung down, as tantalizing as anything I have ever seen, just inches from my eager mouth. She lowered herself slowly onto my penis and began a slow series of full length strokes. She would start with me almost fully withdrawn, come down slowly until she was sure we were well aligned and just drop for an abrupt full length insertion. Then she would rock her pelvis a bit to stimulate her clitoris and rise up to start the process all over again. It was heavenly.
After about a dozen of those, I was ready to explode. I said, “You’re going to have to stop that if you expect me to be any good for you. I can’t hold back.” The next time she raised up, I reached through between her legs, put my hands on her buttocks and pressured her to move up to my head. She got the idea right away. She moved slowly forward, stopping every few inches to grind her pussy into my body. The anticipation of tasting that pussy was almost worse for my control than the ride she had been giving my penis.
And finally, she was there. She ground her pussy full force into my mouth and then raised up just enough that I could get to her clitoris with my tongue. I licked it, whipped it, sucked it, bit it gently with my teeth. Her clitoris became engorged and doubled in size. I was driving her as crazy as she had driven me. Her head was thrown back and I could feel her abdominal muscles start to clench. She was close. She dropped down to grind hard on my mouth and exploded. She filled my mouth. It was hard to swallow fast enough. I’m not entirely sure what all the fluids were, but I’m sure urine was in the mix. This did not bother me in the least. Peeing into my mouth while being eaten had been my late wife's favorite method of reaching orgasm, and I enjoyed the act as well.
As soon as her orgasm subsided, Danny slid back down my body and impaled herself on my penis in one fast, violent motion. She began rocking herself to a second orgasm. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on getting just the right stimulation. I was nothing more to her than a flesh and blood dildo. But I didn’t care. I don’t think I have ever in my life been as stimulated as I was at that moment. I blasted into her vagina and that was enough to set her off a second time.
Danny collapsed down flat on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. We lay like that for maybe five minutes.
Finally, she said, “I’ve got to go pee.”
“You already did. A little,” I said.
She raised up to look at me and gave me a grin. “Yeah, I thought so.”
I figured, what the Hell. Go for broke. “I kind of liked it,” I said. She got a quizzical look on her face, but kept that wicked grin.
I said, “You know, there’s another head you could pee in instead of that complicated mechanical thing I showed you last night.”
Danny was quick on the uptake.
“Are you serious?” she asked, but without any sign of being put off. More like she was intrigued by the idea of something new to try. The girl obviously had not lacked for sexual experience in her young life, but maybe she had never done this.
“Completely,” I answered.
It didn’t take Danny long to make up her mind. She raised up off my now limp penis and moved up to my mouth. She dropped down on my mouth and I began licking away all the juices that were leaking down. But after just a few seconds, she raised up and said, “You’ll have to stop that. I can’t pee when you are touching me like that.”
She dropped back down so she was just barely above my lips. I opened my mouth wide and waited. My penis was coming back to life. Danny had her eyes closed and was concentrating on getting her stream to start. I could feel her abdominal muscles tense as she pushed.
Finally, a dribble. I swallowed quickly and opened wide again. I loved the warm, salty flavor. A stronger spurt. Maybe half a mouthful, which I quickly swallowed. Gazing up at Danny, seeing her beautiful breasts sway above me and watching her face as she strained to empty her bladder into my mouth brought my penis back to full glory. Finally the flood began. I swallowed as best I could without fully closing my mouth. I tried hard not to disturb the flow by touching her. Danny peed for a surprisingly long time. Toward the end, she opened her eyes and looked down at my face beneath her. She dropped down some and began to grind gently on my mouth. Obviously, she was getting into this. When she ran dry, she pressed herself fully onto my mouth and began to hump my face in earnest. It took her no longer than maybe ten seconds to reach a third orgasm. I helped myself to an orgasm of sorts, but I was mostly empty from the first blast just a few minutes earlier.
Danny collapsed down on the bunk next to me and we snuggled for a time. We were both drained. Well, Danny was drained. I guess I was filled. Neither of us had anything to say. I was thinking to myself that she would get up soon, dress and disappear forever. Not that I had any reason to expect anything otherwise. She was young and beautiful. And a great fuck. I was old and pretty well used up. But still, when something has been as great as what I had just experienced, you just naturally hate to see it end.
After a time, Danny began to talk. She told me the story of the last few weeks. She was between her sophomore and junior years in college. She had come to Europe with her boyfriend, Randy, for a typical backpacking summer. At a youth hostel in Athens, they had met two rather buxom, very blond German girls that looked enough alike to be twins. Danny was no slouch in the breastworks department, but apparently these German girls had her outmatched by something like a factor of two. And there were two of them. And they weren’t at all shy. They liked Randy and he was mesmerized by the way their mammaries swayed braless beneath their T-shirts. Randy apparently thought that the chance to score with two German bushes was worth more than a Danny in hand. Idiot. Danny got in a snit and took a night ferry from Athens to Tinos, all on her own, without telling Randy where she was going. After landing in Tinos, she discovered that her wallet was gone – along with most of her cash. She figured someone had lifted it while she was trying to sleep on a bench on the ferry. Danny still had her passport, Eurail pass and ticket for her flight home, secure in her backpack. But Randy had their traveler's checks back in Athens and Danny had nothing but small change in Tinos. Thus began a bad day for her. Then, near the end of that day, she saw some geezer in the back of a big sailboat – setting up a charcoal grill.
Danny was feeling lost and abandoned when she came down to the quay that night. She knew she could call the youth hostel in Athens and get word to Randy to come rescue her. But she was still highly pissed at him and those “two German whores”. She just couldn’t bring herself to make the call and admit she needed him. But she was lonely and hungry. And then I popped into view – with a steak and a baked potato.
Danny said it really touched her that I just gave her my supper. I guess she was in desperate need of some human kindness and that simple gesture sparked a reaction out of proportion to its worth. Anyway, she got to thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stay on my boat for a few days to give Randy time to stew. And then she got to thinking that I really didn’t look all that bad for a geezer and that maybe a grudge fuck was the thing she needed to square things with Randy. So she went aft to my cabin after her shower and set the stage. And then she went to sleep before I got back from dumping the ashes. Danny said she wasn’t nearly drunk enough to pass out, but that she was tired, and truly relaxed and comfortable for the first time in days. She said the wine on top of a full stomach just put her to sleep. But she had every intention of having sex with me. It seems Bad Bob had the right take on things. That Good Bob is such a wimp. So it seemed I had idiot Randy to thank for the greatest fuck of my life. Bless his pea-brained soul.
But the real surprise to me was that Danny absolutely was in no hurry to leave. She liked the situation. She was safe, fed, cared for and sexually replete. The idea of being “missing in action” excited her. She figured that after four or five days, Randy would be consumed with guilt and would be tremendously relieved to see her again. I wasn’t so sure about all of that. I could imagine Randy reporting her as a missing person back in Athens. I could see myself having to explain to the Tinos police what a young, female type, missing person was doing aboard my boat. But I kept my mouth shut. If Danny wanted to stay aboard for a few days, Danny could stay. I am not pea-brained.
Danny wanted to know why an American was living on a sailboat in Greece. So I told her about my lifelong dream of sailing around the world. I told her about the places I wanted to go and the things I wanted to see. I told her how I loved the challenge of sailing, of making the boat go where I wanted with just the wind for power. How I loved the solitude of the water and the independence a sailboat gave you. And of the responsibility for your own existence. Whether you live or die out on the open ocean is pretty much in your own hands. Nothing can kill you with more certainty than stupidity afloat, with no land in sight. I guess I painted a very exciting verbal picture. Danny caught the passion. She wanted to learn to sail. She wanted to go out with me to visit other islands in the Cyclades group. Like I said, I am not pea-brained. We went sailing.
God, those were wonderful days. Danny learned quickly and was able to handle the boat by herself within two days. Of course, we were never really out of sight of land. There was a lot more she would have to learn before she was ready to be out in real blue water. But she made remarkable progress and loved every minute of it.
Most of the time during those days, Danny wore nothing at all. She tanned a beautiful golden brown. Her hair bleached out white. We had what for me was knockout sex every night. And sometimes during the day. Danny liked to be in charge, like that first time. She liked having me perform orally, which was good, because after the first couple of days my woody began to get termites. I couldn’t keep up, and she showed no sign of wanting to slow down. She loved giving me golden cocktails. It really turned her on. I think she was something of a dominatrix at heart. Danny would come up to me with her wicked grin and ask, “Thirsty?” I never turned her down. After the first two or three times, contact no longer hindered her ability to pee. The whole time she was peeing, she would rub the sensitive spot between her clitoris and urethral opening on my upper lip and teeth. Sometimes, she would reach orgasm before she even finished peeing. I loved it. So did she. She said she had never experienced orgasms as intense as those she had with me. I had no desire to dissuade her from that opinion.
But I was starting to get worried. Danny had been gone from Athens for ten days. I was sure that by now Randy would have done something. Reported her missing to the police. Called her parents. Who knew what. And I was sure he would describe his own actions in the most favorable light possible. Danny would have disappeared without cause, possibly kidnapped. Randy would have been frantic with worry the whole time. No mention of the two German girls would ever be made. When Danny did finally come back to life, officially, she was going to have a lot of explaining to do. And each day that passed was only going to make things more difficult. I talked it all over with her and finally convinced her that it was time to return to Athens.
We sailed up the eastern Saronic Gulf to Athens and moored at Kalamaki, down near the old airport. After we registered at the marina and paid the necessary fees, Danny caught a taxi for the city center. The youth hostel was located in the old part of the city, northeast of the Acropolis. I wanted to go with her, but she was determined to handle everything by herself. I didn’t argue. She insisted she was coming back to spend the rest of the summer with me. I wasn’t so sure. She had taken her backpack. To be honest, I never really expected to see her again. I don’t know if you could call it low self-esteem or simply a good grip on reality. I mean, Brad Pitt I’m not.
It was a long afternoon and it was turning into a long evening. It was hot and airless in the marina. The loud music and laughter from a nearby patio bar was annoying. Nobody should have been having fun on that night. I was tired, but sleep was out of the question. I sat in the cockpit and tried to read a book. The low wattage of the cockpit lights barely made that possible. Mostly, I was just burning time and trying not to think about Danny.
Occasionally, I could hear someone walking down the quay. I always disciplined myself not to look. I did not want to suffer repeated disappointment. Then, about 10:30, Danny showed up. She was not a happy camper. She sat down beside me and rested her head on my shoulder for a few minutes. I put an arm around her and held her close. I had lots of questions, but did not ask them. After a time, she gave me a quick kiss and said with a grin, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
The sea lanes down to Cape Sounion are crowded with commercial traffic. Lots of big ships - that have right-of-way over a more maneuverable small boat, even if the smaller boat is under sail. We would have more wind once we got outside the protected confines of the marina, but that wind would be from the southeast. We would have to tack back and forth across the sea lanes. I was not eager to make that passage at night, in a small sailboat, trying to interpret the navigation lights of larger vessels to determine their course and speed and get out of their way. It would be safer to leave in the morning. So after Danny declared her intent, I stood up immediately and began preparations to get under way. Like I said, I am not pea-brained. That became a golden summer in every sense of the word. Hands down, the best summer of my life.
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