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.
