Alan Longfellow's 3-person sailboat at Peconic Bay Marina on the south shore of Long Island sits tied to the pier. It's flanked by other sail boats, big and small. Motor-powered boats also have their berths.
We have walked a short distance from the black Lexus under the warm sun of late morning. A mild breeze is blowing making the weather comfortable.
"I had this boat long before I met you."
That's at least two summers.
I asked, "did you buy it new."
"Yah I did, and still paying the loan," he replied.
A tax lawyer by profession, the 43 year old dude can easily afford the payments on the boat and his Breton Hills condominium at Glen Clove.
My boyfriend of 15 months since that night at Rosemont, we had started a chat over drinks that night then wound up in a nearby hotel room. He's a 6 foot hunk who can mount me any time. Light-brown hair frames an oval face. He has full lips, a perfectly straight nose and trimmed beard.
A mild breeze propel the boat through small swells. Distant whitecaps dot the blue sea. Alan has control of a triangular sail and a much smaller triangular sail near the bow.
We hadn't talked much since putting to sea, other than making observations about other boats. I gazed eastward.
A mile out on the water my boyfriend struck up a rambling conversation. He had been "bitten by the sailing bug" when he was 15.
I listened intently, unable to take my eyes off him. My eyes soon wandered from his face down to his white/rainbow trunks. He was not unaware of my lust for him.
I'm face down on the bed propped up on my shins and forearms. You're behind my thighs thrusting your dick into my hole. Make me ejaculate onto the blanket. Ejaculate inside me.
He asked jokingly, "getting any."
I grinned but kept silent.
Late afternoon saw us at Bostwick's Chowder House eating lobster rolls and sipping coffee.
During the long ride back to Glen Cove I was once again lost in my daydream. In my side vision I could see the object of my fantasy at the wheel of his black Lexus.
I had left Bostwick's wearing my hands free masturbator from Amazon inside my swim trunks which by now are inside my pants. I discretely activated the toy and left my hands draped over the seat.
We had traveled several miles before my first ejaculation. I would have another one long before the end of the trip. Wearing wet briefs is not too uncomfortable.
"Hon, I just cummed in my underpants. They're very wet."
"Really," he replied.
"I got a toy in the mail yesterday. It works nicely."
"I saw your package but decided not to ask about it."
The sun sat low on the horizon when we arrived at Breton Hills, an off-white two-story condominium complex behind a black metallic fence. One step outside the car Alan draped his arm around my waist and left it there until we reached the door.
The airconditioner chilled the rooms making our environment comfortable. We plopped into the sofa, a tan fabric piece. Alan aimed the remote at the 55-inch Samsung mounted above the hearth. At my suggestion he selected "Rome" on Netflix.
The TV played an episode about the reign of Nero. Meanwhile I leaned against my lover who draped his right arm around my shoulder. I planted a quick kiss on his lips. He responded in kind.
Sometime later I stripped off my jeans and shorts revealing the long inactive masturbator. Meanwhile the graph on screen counted down the seconds to the next episode.
My boyfriend grinned at the sight of it.
"I like that."
