A special thanks to RF-Fast for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in good shape.
The Seabreacher Effect Ch. 02
Welcome back to the 2nd part of this story. If you'd not read the first part (which I highly suggest), the synopsis is:
Simon, a 32-year-old man, quit his well-paid job and bought a Seabreacher, which is a jet ski like watercraft. It is fast and manoeuvrable, except it is fully enclosed and capable of travelling up to 5 feet under water and capable of leaping from the water. Hence its name.
This £60,000+ purchase wasn't some extravagant whim, but a plan to create a business giving tourists an experience of a lifetime. Operating on a lake where he could give brief high-speed runs at up to 50 miles per hour on the surface and almost half that underwater.
During his first summer of operation, he befriended Kirsty, a 19-year-old woman, working in her uncle's ice-cream van prior to her going to university. Towards the end of the summer, she persuades him to give her a trip for a discount.
During the ride, he discovers her fantasies about being trapped and entirely under someone else's control. To match fact to fantasy, she pulls his hands to her breasts, and shortly afterwards she strips and gets him to finger her to climax while on the ride.
Afterwards, they go back to his caravan in a field on a farm and fuck many times for the rest of the day. For the best part of a week, they spent their nights together, before she had to go home and then off to university.
Part 2
As expected, I only had a couple of messages from a very busy Kirsty dealing with her new life at university. However, I had my own decisions to make. After expenses, I'd ended up earning over 80% of what I'd invested in my new business, so I was cash rich for the moment.
Rather than rush out and find a job for the winter, I took my time thinking about the future. Kirsty had shown me I couldn't be happy being as isolated as I'd been that summer.
In the meantime, I had more urgent things to deal with. A summer with little exercise and too much fast food had taken its toll on my fitness and stamina. The frequency of sex with Kirsty pointed that out in stark relief. I'd also let my personal grooming fall by the wayside. I'd grown a scraggly beard and let my hair get longer than ever before.
So I joined a gym and hired both a personal trainer and a nutritionist. Every morning I'd spend 3 or 4 hours in the gym working out or swimming lengths in the pool.
After a month, I was feeling a lot better. I'd not gotten fat exactly, but I'd felt rather doughy before the gym. Now I could see the difference after all the hours of exercise and healthy eating. I took a couple of weeks' holiday on the Canary Islands, whilst keeping up most of my exercise routine.
By the time I got home, I went right back to the gym, having enough of a tan to lose the pale and wan look of the summer. Which explained why a few of the women at the gym had given me lingering looks. It made me think, and my mind turned to Kirsty and wondered how she was doing.
When I got home, I found an email from Kirsty from a few days before. It was coming up to half term, and she wondered if I wanted to come to see her for a bit. The 'bit' was fairly clear, given our short time together. Basically, it was 'fancy a fuck?' and the answer was obvious. Not wanting to seem too keen, I replied, apologising for the delay and offering to visit from Friday night until Sunday evening.
Kirsty was enthusiastic, and as her roommate was going home, I'd have somewhere to stay. She also added I'd not need to pack a lot of clothing. I had to laugh. Last time we'd been naked almost all the time we'd been in my caravan. It certainly clarified any doubts about her plans for my visit.
When I got home on Thursday evening, I found a message from Kirsty, and I had a moment of panic that she'd changed her mind. It was bad news, but not the worst. It turned out her roommate wasn't going home until Sunday. So it just meant I had to book a hotel.
Despite leaving at noon on Friday, I misjudged the delays from road works on the motorway and got stuck in the rush hour traffic in Kirsty's town. After 5 hours driving I just wanted to check into the hotel, have a shower and a nap. When the receptionist offered an upgrade to a premium room for half the usual additional cost, I decided it was worth it. A shower large enough for two appealed, as the caravan had negated any fun like that last time.
As the receptionist altered my booking, I asked how busy the hotel was, and she jumped to the wrong conclusion. She affirmed all rooms had a superior level of soundproofing. But she'd put me at the end of a corridor away from other guests to ensure I got a good night's sleep.
The childish part of me wanted to say I was certain I'd be having very little sleep. I was more worried about the other guests. Kirsty could be quite vocal when she let loose.
Just before 7 pm, I was checking myself out in the bathroom. Kirsty had texted me directions to a pub to meet her, and I wanted to make a good impression. I was freshly shaved and wearing a nice open-neck shirt, new black jeans, and black boots. As I reached for the aftershave, I hesitated.
Last time I'd seen her, I'd had a scraggly beard and shaggy hair, wore scruffy t-shirts and jeans. So turning up perfectly groomed might be a mistake. Skipping the aftershave, I headed out. About a hundred yards from the hotel. I wonder if I should have brought a rain-proof coat instead of a light jacket, as it feels like rain is in the air.
The pub was fairly busy and mostly full of younger people, students at a guess, and I looked around for Kirsty. I spotted her sitting with two other women around her age and casually looking around the room as the others were talking. Her eyes passed over me without recognition, then darted back and she burst into a giant smile and leapt up. Rushing over to me and throwing her arms around me.
"Oh, my god! You look amazing." She held me at arm's length.
"So do you." I replied, and I meant it.
The last time I'd seen her, she'd kept her hair in a ponytail and now it was hanging down to her shoulders. She was wearing a little makeup and wore a short skirt, high-heeled ankle boots, and a black satin blouse. From previous experience, I very much doubted if she was wearing a bra.
"Come on, you've got to meet my friends." She pulled me over and introduced me. "This is Lexi, my roommate and new best friend."
She had short, black hair and a cute face. More curvy than Kirsty without being fat.
"I thought Kirsty was exaggerating when she said you were good looking. She never said you were this fit." I took her hand and shook it, a little embarrassed by the compliment.
Her accent was broad Liverpudlian, and I grinned. I'd always liked scousers and their sense of humour.
