The Voyages of Luscious Lucy

Chapter Four: We Sail Away

And that's how The Lucille became Luscious Lucy. I liked the new name and made plans to have the old boat hauled out so the hull could be scraped and repainted with the new moniker scrawled across her stern. I was also learning all about boats from Deborah.

Deborah was turning out to be a wealth of information and a dynamo when it came to getting things done.

Monday had come and gone, the boat was up on the rails across the river from Mayport at Monty Daley's Boatyard. The hull repairs were scheduled to take about ten days so Deborah was to move her gear into my spare bedroom for the duration.

As I parked the Chevy in the drive in front of the house, Deborah turned and stared at me, "You have got to be putting me on!" She gasped, getting her first view of my decrepit old house.

"What?" I responded.

"You can't be serious," She whined.

"WHAT?" I repeated.

"This place is dangerous!" She wailed.

"You haven't even been inside," I grated, irritation seeping into my voice.

"I won't live long enough to clean this mess up!" She stated, uncoiling from the passenger side of the car and standing in the weed-infested patch beside the driveway. "What happened to your house?"

"Nothing. Why, what's the problem?" I grumbled. "It needs a few repairs is all."

Dave and his brother Steve rolled up behind the Chevy. Both of them walked up and stood with Deborah and me in front of my house.

"Hi Mac," Dave said. "What do ya think Steve? He should burn it down, right?"

"Would save him a lot of money, I think," Steve answered.

Deborah giggled and advanced toward the door. She turned the knob and pushed on the door. Nothing happened. She pushed again. Still to no avail.

"So, how do you get it open?" She queried.

I stepped up and put my shoulder to the door and leaned into it. As per custom, it grated on the sill and swung in. I gestured in a wide sweep of my arm, bowing just slightly at the waist.

"Welcome to Utopia." I said.

"Somebody wake me up, quick!" Deborah murmured, stepping cautiously into the dank house. "I'm having a nightmare."

Dave and Steve were having a great time. It was quite obvious Deborah was not going to lighten up on me about the state of my digs any time soon and they were both standing there holding their sides as she expounded her dismay. All I could do was take the ribbing because she was absolutely right. The house had been totally neglected, since long before Maureen died, and was just about to collapse under its own weight.

"I think I can save her," Steve managed, hanging on to Dave's shoulder for support. "But it'll be a test."

"Fuck you guys," I said, following Deborah into the house.

Deborah stood with her hands on her hips just inside the front door. She scanned the inside of the main floor of the house and shook her head. She slowly made her way into the living room to the left and then back through the so called foyer into the dining area and back into the kitchen. Returning, she looked up the stairway where the bedrooms were and took a cautious journey up the stairs. I could hear her walking from room to room by the squeaking of the old floorboards. Then she returned to stand in front of me.

"This won't be easy," She said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm gonna make you a deal."

"Whazzat?" I asked.

"I'll help you clean up this pig sty, then we go for a cruise on the boat." Her resolve was granite solid.

"I got a gig next weekend with Dave." I said.

"The boat won't be done before that, so you can't weasel out of it that way," She quipped. "But when she comes down off the rails, we sail. Deal?"

How could I refuse. The house was a disaster, after all. "Deal." I said.

Dave and Steve were standing behind us now. "It's gonna be a major undertaking," Steve entered the conversation.

"How long will it take?" I asked.

"All summer, depending," He said.

"On?" I asked.

"How much the termites have eaten over the years, and how much you want to fix it up." Steve said.

The decision came to me in a split second, like the revelation you get when you're playing kick-ass rock and roll and you throw a new chop into a lead you've been trying to get right and suddenly it happens. "Get it ready to sell. I'm going to move onto the boat with Skinny here after she hits the water." I said, just like that.

Deborah's face lit up like a Chinese lantern. "Really?" She gasped. "Oh how cool is that?"

"What about playing music?" Dave asked, dejectedly.

"I'm with ya on this gig, Old Buddy. Then I'm takin' some time off and see what's out there." I answered, waving my hand in the air. "And I think I got the right captain for this cruise."

Deborah was jumping up and down like a school girl and clapping her hands, gleefully. Her big boobs bouncing wildly under her tank-top. Steve and Dave were taking careful note of the action.

"Fuckin' guy has all the luck," Dave complained.

"No lie," Steve agreed.

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The next four days were a living hell around the house. Deborah was a whirlwind when it came to cleaning. I stayed pretty much out of her way for fear of bodily damage. Steve was taking careful aim at the outside of the place but promised he'd hold off on starting construction inside until after Deborah and I had moved onto the boat. I was scheduled to play with Dave and his new group on Friday and Saturday nights and Sunday afternoon in Saint Augustine.

It was Wednesday afternoon and it had been several days since I'd visited Caroline. I wasn't exactly horny, but Debbie was flouncing around the house in a bright yellow string bikini, busily working her way from room to room on her quest to remove the years of grime from everything in sight. Her hair was all askew, and she had smudges of dirt on her arms and face. I was in the kitchen when she appeared searching for a fresh sponge and some kind of cleaner for the shower stall. When she bent over and stuck her head under the sink, her beautiful tight butt jumped out right in front of me.

The thin strip of her yellow thong disappeared between her cheeks and divided the lips of her sweet pussy so they bulged invitingly on either side, making a perfect camel toe. I eased close behind her and placed a hand on each soft orb. I heard her squeak once but she didn't attempt to move away. She folded her arms on the edge of the sink top, laid her head on her arms and stepped back toward me.

Gently, and very slowly, I let my hand move down over her warm butt and slide underneath until I felt the soft folds of her outer petals. She shuffled her feet to the side, spreading her legs farther apart. Easing a finger under the thin patch of fabric covering her sex, I felt her wetness. My finger slipped inside with no resistance. I had to bend my knees a bit so I could push deeper into her.

I could hear her mumble something incoherent as I pushed a second finger into her. My knuckle must have raked across her clit, because she pushed way up on her tiptoes as a low moan escaped her lips. Then her thighs squeezed my hand for many seconds while she trembled on my hand.

"You got somthin' special on your mind, Sailor?" She gasped as her orgasm subsided.

"Don't move," I said.

I quickly dropped my shorts and stepped out of them. I found the bows on her hips, pulled gently and dropped the ends of the strings sending her tiny bikini bottom to the floor with my shorts. I grabbed my doo-dad with one hand, put my other hand in the small of her back, hunkered down and stepped forward, positioning myself carefully and invaded her drenched pussy.

She sucked in a huge lung full of air and hissed as we came together. She rocked forward. I held her firmly by the hips, picking her feet up a few inches off the floor. Then I started rocking into her slowly with long even strokes. Within moments, I erupted deep inside of her. Deborah flailed her legs as her second orgasm hit her just seconds after I started to fill her with hot cum. We stayed up there together for a long time, languishing in the aftermath of our quick fuck, before I lowered her feet back to the floor.

My deflating cock slipped out of her greasy cunt, followed by a thick glob of sticky white cum that plopped down on the floor between our feet.

Deborah, her head still resting on her folded arms, looked down and said, "I'm never going to get this place cleaned up if you insist on messing the floor up all the time!"

The laughter was priceless.

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The Luscious Lucy was due to come off the rails on Monday. I was scheduled to play with Dave and his merry crew over the weekend, so Deborah and I spent the next couple of days packing my possessions up for storage and organizing my personal belongings to be moved aboard when she was back in the water. Deborah made a grand gesture of throwing nearly all of my old ragged clothing in the trash and we spent Friday shopping for some new duds. She, being less than half my age, had a drastically different idea on what was fashionable than I did. So I just let her do her thing, adding a gaudy flowered shirt here and there purely to have some say in the matter and soon we were back at the house with a whole new wardrobe. Most of it was casual, but she forced me to buy a new suit and even a couple of ties. (Groan!)

I loaded my amp and guitar in the back of the Chevy and we headed for The Ancient City. Deb had never heard me play before so she cajoled until I agreed to let her tag along for the Friday session. I was growing attached to the exuberant girl despite the gnawing feeling in my gut which told me I should keep my distance. But like I said before, I got no sense when it comes to women, whatsoever.

Monson's Motor Lodge is your typical aging Florida tourist stop, complete with a hundred plus rooms, pool, dining room and a fairly large lounge. Dave had us checked in for the weekend so we wouldn't have to drive the 35 miles home in the middle of the night. I met the rest of the band which included a drummer named Geno whom I'd met before, Armand the keyboard player that carried a Hammond B-3 made in 1941 around, Mike another guitar player, and the singer Donna.

Donna is a charmer, tall, dark haired, always smiling and stacked. She also has a song list that goes on forever. Dave told me she was good, really good! I'd heard Dave's praises before, and if he said she was really good, it was fact and I looked forward to the evening's play.

Deborah and I walked with Dave and the singer across the street to The Santa Maria Restaurant, which was built out on the end of a long pier over the water at the public anchorage in St. Augustine Harbor. The food was great and so was the company. I liked Donna instantly, but decided that Dave had already set his sails in her direction and besides, I had the captain of my vessel with me to keep me company. Dave was giving Deb the eye too. Donna and Deb were soon immersed in deep conversation so Dave and I got caught up on all the dirt on our old buddies in the music business.

We got back to the lounge and set up our gear. Debbie, as she kept urging me to call her, proved to be an excellent roadie, quickly learning how to plug in the amp and speaker, tuner and effects pedals and watched intently as I tuned the old Fender guitar. Dave and Geno spent considerable time erecting the PA system while Armand lugged his monster Hammond organ and Leslie cabinet up on stage and made all the necessary hook-ups. Donna reappeared a few minutes before nine wearing a skin tight, strapless, blue sequined dress.

"I'd like to eat her pussy," Debbie whispered in my ear as I rose to go up on stage for the first set.

I looked at Debbie and winked, shaking my finger at her and tsk tsking. The girl is incorrigible.

We opened with Donna's personal arrangement of I'm Hurt, an old cross over standard. Then we played a couple of blues tunes and some old rock numbers. Dave called it right on the button; the dark haired beauty was dynamite. Each song she sang was like a concert all by itself. We ended the set with an old Peggy Lee tune called Fever. The small but enthusiastic crowd loved her, and us.

Debbie pulled me down into an empty chair next to her and hugged me close.

"You guys are fantastic," Debbie gushed. "Donna sings so fine!"

"Thanks," I said, as Donna walked up to our table and pulled out a chair.

"Nice job, Guitar Man," Donna said, hiking her skirt up so she could bend and sit without splitting a seam.

"Thanks," I replied to the compliment. "You ain't so bad yourself. Why aren't you working with a headliner?"

"I had problems with a loved one, recently," Donna answered. "Now I don't have the loved one to shove me around any more. So I'm hiding out at Dave's."

"Makes sense to me," I quipped.

"Nice dress," Debbie interjected. "Nice ass too."

Debbie's fingers slid across the table to touch Donna on the back of her hand. The dark haired singer inched her hand forward to intercept the caress. I swear I saw a spark as their hands made contact.

"Hi Kiddies!" Dave said, setting four beers on the table and dousing the fire that had erupted between the two sexy women. "Great tunes, Donna."

Dave pulled a chair out and parked himself across from me, between the girls. If looks could kill, Debbie was on her way to jail for murder. Donna had much the same look in her eye. Then they both broke out laughing.

"I miss something?" Asked the puzzled bass player.

"I'll explain it to you some day," I said, joining in the laughter.

Debbie excused herself to the ladies room with Donna in hot pursuit. Break quickly passed and we went back to the stage and had run through four or five songs with male vocals before Donna and Debbie returned. Donna joined us on the stage and it was clear to me, that she and Debbie had gotten much better acquainted in the bathroom, judging from the flush on Donna's cheeks and the smile on her face. Debbie looked rather proud of herself as well.

We finished the set and took another break at 11:30. Debbie had a cold beer ready for me when I got to the table. Donna and Dave headed for the front door to go out and burn one. Geno, Mike and Armand zeroed in on a couple of groupies at the bar, leaving us alone at our table in the corner by the stage.

"Man, is that some sweet pussy," Debbie whispered as I sat down. "And can she lick clitty!"

I groaned and she giggled. "Dave's a lucky fella. She tells me they're spending quite a bit of time together these days. I think she's staying in the apartment out back of his place in Mayport."

"What about Dave's old lady?" I asked.

"I think she's doing her too," The excited girl said.

That sounded like something Dave would be in to, I thought to myself, which is great if you can pull it off. Dave had a knack for creating interesting situations for him self. We played the last set and headed upstairs to the room which had been reserved for us in the motel.

They rooms were cozy and clean. Dave and the singer had the room right next to ours and it was only a matter of a few minutes before we heard a soft knocking on the interconnecting door between the rooms. I fiddled with the lock and opened the door to see Donna standing there, wearing only a black thong and a smile, holding a Margarita in her hand.

"Join us for a nightcap?" The dark haired singer asked with a big flash of her pearly white teeth.

Debbie giggled, pulling her shirt off over her head and tugging her skirt down over her tight ass. "Sure, why not?"

I followed the girls into the next room and found Dave sitting on the bed flipping the remote control for the TV through the channels looking for a porn movie to watch.

"What's up, Sailor?" Dave asked, obviously enjoying the sight of the two naked women who were now on the bed grappling with each other.

"You need to ask?" I asked in return.

The big bass player cocked his head toward the women on the other bed and smiled. He was truly in his element.

"I remember the first night you met Maureen," He said. "Been a lot of water flowed under the bridge since then, My Friend."

"That there has, Amigo," I agreed. "That there has. I remember what you told me that night too."

"Jesus, Mac. Who can remember twenty five years ago? I can't remember what I said this afternoon." Dave declared.

"You said it would end in tragedy, me and Maureen. You remember that?" I asked.

"And I was right." He said. "You gonna do it again?"

"I'm getting' too fuckin' old to get married again, Dave." I told him. "But I think I'm gonna take the kid here and have her drive my boat for me and see what the rest of Florida looks like before I get too old to enjoy it. Mo left me enough money for a few years if I pay attention and don't get stupid with it."

Go for it, Mac," Dave said. "Have your self a blast. Now let's fuck the eyeballs out of these two Bimbos!"

Dave stood up, dropped his towel on the floor, crawled up on the other bed and dove between Debbie's legs with his face. I watched the singer ease across the bed toward me and reach for the zipper on my pants. Within seconds, I was balls deep in her throat. This chick was a true talent with her mouth. I stared down at the top of her head as she screwed her face completely into my hairy belly.

Dave flipped Debbie over and entered her from behind, bringing a squeal from her as he slid his thick cock deep into her pussy. I watched as the big hairy bass player pounded his big meaty prick in the young girl's pussy. Debbie seemed to be enjoying herself, as was I.

"C'mon, Sailor," Donna said, disconnecting her mouth from my throbbing dick. "Let's get down to business here."

She pushed me down on the bed and crawled up over me. Hoisting herself up on her feet and hands, she reached down and held my hard cock up as she lowered her dark-thatched pussy onto me, guiding me straight into her steaming center.

"Ooooooooooh yeaaaaaaaah, Baby," Donna breathed, sitting flat down on me.

All I could feel was the slick heat of her inner walls as she sat there motionless. Then she flexed and it felt like she had stroked me with her hand. Over and over again she contracted the inner muscles of her milking cunt, never rising up. This girl has muscle tone!

I began flexing back into her in return and before long, we had an easy rhythm going, neither of us using any other movement other than that of our coupled sex members. The feeling was totally consuming. Almost without warning, I felt her stiffen on top of me, sending me over the edge. I pumped a huge river of love milk deep in her clutching hole as she trembled on top of me. Her orgasm was equally as strong as mine. She ground her cunt down onto me while I filled her to overflowing.

In slow motion, she leaned forward and lay flat on top of me. Her breathing ragged and her body quaking with the quick aftershocks of her huge climax.

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I saw the gray of morning creeping in under the drapery covering the motel window. I didn't remember falling asleep, or Donna leaving and Debbie returning to my bed as I slipped out from the heavy cover of slumber. Debbie was curled up in a tight ball next to me, very naked, with her cute little butt tucked into my side. She snored softly. My pecker was enormous, and hard as steel. But then it usually is in the morning when I have to pee so badly.

I moved slowly and tried not to disturb the girl as I eased out of bed and headed for the john. I stood there over the bowl with Mr. Johnson in my hand and panicked when I saw a dark red discoloration along the length of my doo-dad. I turned around so I could get more light on the subject, and discovered I had been branded with a vivid smear of Donna's red lipstick the night before. I must have been quite a sight, standing there with my dick in my hand, frantically rubbing my thumb along its length trying to figure out what had happened to me.