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.
"And this is Petra." Kirsty added, and I turned to the other girl.
Even sitting down, you could tell she was the tallest of the three. Her long, straight blonde hair hung down her back. She'd have been gorgeous if not for the tight expression around her mouth. Suddenly, I had a flashback to my earliest encounters with the women's studies groups at university.
The sort of women that blame all men for the ills of the world just because you're born with a penis. Not letting you show them your support for feminism and equal rights and equal pay. I'm all for that and have a pair of lesbians as very close friends. They even asked me to be a sperm donor for them [True story]. I turned them down as I felt I'd not be able to be entirely detached, knowing I had a kid. Plus, their relationship was very turbulent, and I was correct as a few years later, they split and moved away.
I could sense that Petra had already judged me as some perverted older man seducing naïve teenage girls. Certainly not the case, but I'd have my work cut out to disprove it. Hopefully, now I was here, that the other two would leave Kirsty and me alone. No such luck.
She gave me the feeblest of handshakes as if she didn't want to even touch me and said hello. Her accent was somewhere south, possibly Essex.
"I'm surprised you two..." I pointed to Petra and Lexi. "Can even understand each other."
"Sometimes we don't." Lexi replied with her pint glass in front of her face. "That's why we need Kirsty to translate." She laughed loudly and slopped some lager on her chest. "Oh, shit," she declared.
Suddenly I was staring at the wet cleavage and blinked as I caught myself. That will not dispel Petra's attitude towards me, and I doubt Kirsty would be happy. She'd been sensitive about her small breasts. Quickly, I swivelled in my seat and grabbed some napkins from the empty table next to us and handed them over.
"Thanks. I'm such a fuckin klutz." She declared, dabbing at the wet flesh and blouse. She looked up at me. While I carefully kept my eyes at face level. "Tell you what, why don't you do this?" She held out the damp paper towel to me.
I held both hands up in surrender. "I don't think that's a good idea. What would Kirsty say?" Unfortunately, Kirsty didn't back me up. Instead, when Lexi looked at her, she smiled.
"It's OK. Kirsty and I share everything." She elongated the last work to emphasise the innuendo.
"Oh crap, I'm out." I stood and made it look like I was about to leave.
Which set all three girls laughing and broke the ice.
I finally earned some softening in Petra's stance towards me when she said she was studying mathematics and I asked what branch. Most people's eyes glaze over at mathematics. She was studying statistics, and I guessed she wanted to be an actuary. She looked surprised until I explained I'd spent 12 years in an insurance company in a suit and tie, working alongside actuaries.
We talked about it briefly, and I saw Lexi looked bored, not understanding. However, Kirsty had a knowing look, understanding I was trying to win over her friends. Not that I had any problems with Lexi, as she was flirting with me from the start. And as the evening wore on, with me buying the beer, Petra joined in and contributed to Lexi and Kirsty teasing me.
