A Salty Dog

A Salty Dog

Author's Note: This one's title comes from the song and album of the same name by one of the first progressive rock bands, Procol Harum. As always, please take time to vote and leave me a comment. I do read all comments and use your comments to try and make myself a better writer.

P.S. To my readers in the UK, I've attempted to accurately portray what it is like on the canal system, however I'm a yank who lives in Pennsylvania and have never visited England nor lived on a narrowboat. Also, my portrayal of Gwen's medical issues are based on limited research and I have attempted to show one possible choice for dealing with the topic. My sincere apologies if I've gotten things wrong.

P.P.S. I would be remiss without thanking Louiseawakes for her assistance in spell checking and reviewing this story. Go read some of her work, it's really quite good.

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I'm an American ex-pat living on the canals of the UK. I've been living this way for about two years, ever since I decided to sell everything I owned (the house, the car, the whole kit and kaboodle) and emigrated to England in search of a narrowboat to call home. The only things I didn't sell were the clothes I thought I might need and my English bulldog, Cooper. I found a fifty two foot narrowboat that I could afford and spent the following winter and spring renovating it into our home. The renovations complete, at least those that required me being moored in a marina, I set out on a couple of short cruises to learn how to handle the boat on the canals. I learned how to operate the locks, lift bridges and swing bridges. Confident in my new found skills, I eschewed the life of being permanently moored in a marina and instead opted to live as a continuous cruiser. Being a continuous cruiser means that I can moor at the sites owned by the Canal and River Trust for up to fourteen days before having to move to a new mooring. My license from the CRT entitles me to use their water points for fresh water, the dumpsters (called bins in the UK) for trash and the sanitary facilities to empty toilet waste. For the past month I had been cruising the Trent and Mersey canal and had moored outside of Great Haywood since I heard there was going to be a canal celebration and floating market there over the weekend.

"Excuse me, is that Cooper?"

Standing down in the engine hatch, I looked over the back deck towards the towpath and noticed that it was an attractive woman who had posed the query.

"That would be him, fifty four pounds of stubborn and ornery, but thoroughly lovable, bulldog." I replied.

"Well, I think he's adorable and I very much enjoy your vlog."

"Wow, you're the first person I've ever met who admits to having seen it. Give me a quick second to finish checking the engine and I'll be happy to chat."

I finished filling the oil and replaced the cap, checked the dipstick and turned the grease fitting to lubricate and seal the prop shaft before climbing back out and closing the hatch. I turned and stepped off onto the towpath, earning a look from Cooper that said 'why do you have to make so much noise when I'm trying to sleep here'.

The woman in front to me is what I've heard called a 'woman of indeterminate age'. She could have been 55 or she could have been 80. Her face was quite pretty and her skin, although smooth, had just enough line and creases to show a life lived. She was slender, but not emaciated, dressed in a sleeveless top and what I know as capri pants, although I'm not sure if that's what they still call them. A sweater draped over her shoulders with the arms loosely knotted completed the look.

"My name is Bryce, and you are...?", I asked while extending my hand.

"I'm Gwendolyn, but everyone calls me Gwen, and I like your vlog a lot. It's especially funny when Cooper walks in front of you on the towpath. His rear end sways like a trollop in Piccadilly Circus."

"His attitude is, if you got it, flaunt it, and he gives lessons to a few of those ladies." I said laughing. "Although I do hope the old adage of dogs looking like their owners in not true"

"Well, I think he's cute, so maybe you want to reconsider that thought." She replied smiling mischievously.

"Would you join me for a cup of coffee while I reevaluate my position? I'm headed down to the floating market to see who is here this weekend"

Gwen agreed to join me and, after locking up the boat and hooking Cooper to his leash, we headed off down the towpath. There was a good turnout of vendors, probably a dozen boats, featuring all sorts of merchandise and services. There was a couple who sold tie-dye and other 'hippie' style clothing, a woman who was selling all sorts of hand knitted items, a booze boat, a couple of artists, a cafe boat, a couple with two scottie dogs who baked homemade pet treats, a hairstylist who cut hair on her boat and various other itinerant merchants.

After stopping to get treats for Cooper, I bought us a couple of lattes and pieces of homemade cake and we found a nearby bench to sit and enjoy our treats. Gwen told me she was in town visiting friends but that she had gotten up early to walk to towpath since the weather forecast was good for the morning, but rain in the afternoon. She lived about an hour and a half away in a small village in the eastern midlands which lacked canals nearby but she became obsessed with them ever since she watched a series on the BBC about a journalist who quit his job to adopt a liveaboard lifestyle. "So tell me about your boat." she said.

"She's called A Salty Dog, which a tip of the hat to an old Procol Harum album, and I had one of the boat artists modify the picture of the sailor in the life ring on the album cover to have a picture of Cooper in his place."

"I knew that looked familiar, I had an old boyfriend who played that album a lot." Gwen chuckled.

"She's a fifty two foot long, reverse layout boat that I spent about 6 months fixing, painting and fitting out the way I wanted. The six solar panels on the roof provide my electricity and the multi-fuel stove provides most of my heat, although there is a diesel heater for the hot water and additional heat when needed. Similar to you, I discovered narrowboats through the various vlogs I found on YouTube, and fell in love with the whole concept."

"Is that why you started your vlog?"

"Yes, and to give my friends and family in the States a way to keep up with my comings and goings and to assure them that the old man was still alive and well. Posting videos seemed like the easiest way to share the beauty of the scenery as well as let them know what I was up to."

"That's where I found your vlogs and I was struck that a Yank would choose to live here as opposed to the States. It seems to me it would be a bit of a culture shock."

"Well, I find the differences refreshing. America is so homogenized with all the commercial sameness that it's mind numbing. Here, the quaint little shops, the pubs and the truly historic buildings and ruins are a refreshing change. I will admit that buying fuel in liters (or is it litres?), the metric system and figuring out the temperature in Celsius took some getting used to, but I don't have a car, so the whole driving on the wrong side of the road thing isn't a factor. Although I'm not sure who suffers more of a culture shock, me or the locals when I open my mouth and they discover I'm not from around here." I replied laughing.

"Are people welcoming?"

"For the most part they are, and certainly amongst the boating community I'm welcomed. Some of the natives may be a bit resentful, but I'm sure most just think I'm daft. I've never experienced any outright hostility."

After we finished our cake and drinks, I woke Cooper up and we started back up the towpath toward my boat, chatting about our lives, families and short term goals. At our ages, long term goals are not something to waste time on. I told her about losing my wife to cancer, my two children who are grown and doing well in their lives and my four grandchildren. Gwen told me that she was just about to turn seventy, retired from being the executive assistant to the owner of a small manufacturing company, and had two children, both girls, but no grandchildren yet. She also told me she had been divorced for many years, lived alone and was a ten year breast cancer survivor.

We returned to my boat just as the sky darkened and the rain started, chucking it down as the locals would say. We hustled the final few steps to the boat and hurried inside before we got drenched. I dried Cooper off with a towel and he trundled off to find a spot to engage in his favorite activity, sleeping.

I showed Gwen around the boat and she was amazed with how comfortable it seemed, how spacious the shower was and all the secret nooks and crannies where everything from clothes to tools were stored. She commented that even though she thought they seemed a bit tight on the videos, being in one gave her a feeling that it was not claustrophobic at all.

When we returned to the lounge, I turned to Gwen and said "I have an umbrella and will be happy to walk you back to your friends place, but I suggest we wait for a bit and see if the rain will slow down or stop. Even with the umbrella, we'd get soaked if we went now."

"I think you're probably right. I'll call my friends and let them know a chivalrous gentleman offered me shelter from the storm." she said with a sly grin.

"In that case, can I offer you a glass of wine while we wait out the rain?"

"Well, I don't usually drink so early in the afternoon, but it would be rude to decline such a gracious offer." Gwen said with a wink.

That wink took me aback a bit and as I opened the wine I felt stirrings I hadn't felt in quite a while. After handing Gwen her wine, I turned on my stereo and chose Steely Dan's Gaucho album. We settled on the sofa and Gwen asked me what it was like living on a boat full time.

"Well, it's certainly not a life of leisure. Maintenance on the boat, keeping the interior clean, cooking and being a solo cruiser, which means often working the locks and bridges by yourself, can all be a bit challenging, but I don't regret my choices one bit. This winter may be a bit of a challenge since outside work and contact with people will be at a minimum, although gathering wood for the stove and grocery shopping are always necessary. I'm thinking about learning to do stained glass so I can make a round window for the porthole in the bathroom. I may also try and learn how to do canal art and so I can decorate the rear hatch. Editing my videos helps, but the short days and long nights can get lonely without something to keep you occupied."

"You'll need to moor closer to a big town, I'm sure the women in the pubs will get their knickers in a twist when they hear your accent. That may make your nights less lonely." Gwen said with a smile.

"Oh, and what pub can I find you in?" I replied, wiggling my eyebrows lecherously.

Gwen chuckled and our eyes locked in a probing gaze, each of us trying to assess the potential and intentions of the other. After a moment I noticed that the rain had stopped and, as is typical of the weather in the UK, the sun was peeking out. Cooper and I walked Gwen back to her friends house and, as we parted, I asked if she would like to have dinner with me on the boat the next evening. She smiled and agreed. We parted with a hug that lingered a few seconds longer than some may have deemed appropriate. Our fingers brushed as we parted. "I'll see you tomorrow around two then" I said smiling before turning and heading back down to the canal.

The next morning, I headed to town with my little wagon and shopped at the local Aldi's for our dinner which was going to be chicken leg quarters, marinated in teriyaki sauce and mirin and done on my portable BBQ grill, a large tomato, a ball of mozzarella and a couple of slices of frozen cheesecake that would easily thaw before time for dessert. Back at the boat, I prepared the marinade, checked my supply of charcoal and put a bottle of wine in the fridge to chill.

Gwen arrived a few minutes before two and after a hug tighter than yesterday's and a kiss on the cheek by each of us, we decided to take Cooper for his afternoon walk along the towpath. I got out his 25 foot leash and hooked him up so he would have more freedom than with his usual six foot one. Gwen walked close by my side and our fingers brushed often. Finally I laced my fingers with hers and we strolled hand in hand. A few minutes later, we stopped to admire a beautiful brick bridge with a lovely arched bottom. The sunshine, the light green of the pasture with sheep roaming freely, the darker green of the woodlands and the pale red of the bridge made a spectacular sight. While we admired the view, I placed my arm around Gwen's shoulder and held her close.

She looked up at me and sighed "I see why you like this lifestyle, I would love to see things like this every day." I studied the look on her face, bent down toward her and pressed my lips lightly to hers. We kissed tentatively, neither sure if what we were doing was a smart idea. We broke the kiss and called Cooper for our walk back to the boat.

"I liked that.", Gwen said softly as we walked.

I squeezed her hand and then brought it to my lips and kissed her fingers, "So did I. I didn't realize how much I missed the connection with another person. I haven't felt that way since my wife died."

Back at the boat, I set up the grill and got out a couple of chairs. When the coals were ready, I put the chicken on the grill and we sat watching the boat traffic on the canal, chatting with the walkers on the towpath and smelling the delicious scent of our dinner cooking. Many of the people we chatted with thought we were a couple and I noticed that Gwen made no attempt to clarify our situation. Just before the chicken was done, I sliced the tomato and topped it with slices of mozzarella, a drizzle of balsamic and some basil from my herb box on the roof. I think that Gwen enjoyed her dinner since she said nary a word and finished everything on her plate. When she was finished, she looked at me and with a grin said, "If this is how you eat all the time, I want to hire you as my cook."

"I'm glad you liked it, I do try and eat reasonably healthy, although my meals are usually more one pot meals that I throw together with whatever I have. Not having a full size refrigerator it's more about beans, rice, pasta and vegetables with a little meat thrown in to satisfy the carnivore in me."

The night cooled quickly after the sun disappeared behind the hill and I suggested that we move inside for our dessert. "And what's for dessert? Something sticky and gooey?" Gwen asked with a wink.

Hmmm, another wink which only emboldened me to reply "Well, I'll give you a choice...we can eat a slice of cheesecake and have to exercise more tomorrow...or we can eat each other...less calories and even more satisfaction."

"Can I have both?", Gwen asked quietly and adding with a giggle, "and maybe we can find a way to get that exercise tonight."

I doused the ashes in the grill and we folded up the chairs. After stashing the chairs on the roof, we went inside. I locked the hatch for the evening and turned to see Gwen stepping close to me. Her arms slipped around my waist as I wrapped her in my arms and our lips met with none of the tentativeness of earlier. The tip of my tongue traced along her lip and quickly her mouth opened. As we explored each others' mouths, my fingertip traced down along her spine, from the base of her neck, down over her bra strap and down to her tailbone. Slipping my hands lower to cup her bottom and press her groin tight to mine. Gwen had similar ideas and she gripped my ass to grind against my cock which was trying to emerge from it's years' long slumber. She sucked on my tongue as I moved it in and out of her mouth, her tongue swirling and licking mine. Suddenly Gwen broke the kiss and took a half a step back. She took my hands in hers and looked me in the eye. "Let's sit for a minute, there's something I need to explain."

We moved over to the sofa and sat, Gwen facing me and holding my hands in hers. I waited in trepidation, afraid she was going to tell me she was gay, had a steady boyfriend or was an alien from the planet Zeta 5 or...oh, hell, I don't know, but this didn't sound like good news.

"Remember when I told your yesterday that I'm a breast cancer survivor?" Gwen's voice barely above a whisper. When I nodded that I did remember, she continued "The cancer was confined to my left breast, but I did need to have a mastectomy and as a result...I'm lopsided. I thought about getting an implant but the friends I have who had gotten them for either medical or cosmetic reasons told me that their nipples lost sensitivity and I used to be able to cum from just having them sucked and bitten. I decided to have nipple nerve reconstruction and forego the implant. At that age, I had just turned sixty, I opted to maintain as much sensitivity as possible rather than to have two lumps on my chest but only have feeling in one.. My bras have stuffing in one cup so I look 'normal' and even my bathing suits have an implant on one side. If men are going to stare at me, I'd rather it be because they think I look hot and not because they think I look like a freak" she said with a chuckle.

Since I didn't move away from her or look at her with disgust, she continued, "My ex-husband lost interest in having sex, at least with me, after my surgery. Although he said all the right things, his desire for me obviously flagged. He obviously didn't lose interest in sex completely since he started an affair which led to our divorce. It appears he just lost interest in sex with me since I was now less of a woman in his eyes. You're the first man I've wanted to be with since my surgery and divorce and I needed you to understand and decide for yourself how you want to proceed."

I leaned to her and wrapped my arms around her, held her tight and pressed my lips to hers to share a tender and compassionate kiss. She shook gently as I could tell she was overcome with emotion. When we broke the kiss, I reached for a tissue and dabbed the tear running down her cheek. "If you're sure you want this with a crusty old codger like me, I'm sure I can get by with only one tit to suck."

Gwen burst out laughing "You cheeky devil."

"It's only fair to tell you that shagging is probably off the table this evening since I will need to have a doctor send a prescription for ED medicine to the local chemist (that's a pharmacy for my American friends). I hadn't thought about that since I've been here," I confessed. "I'll have to rack my brain to see if I can think of some way to make it up to you," I added wiggling my eyebrows.

Gwen moved closer and pressed her lips lightly to mine. After breaking the kiss, she whispered "If you can't seem to think of anything, I have a few ideas."

I smiled and pressed my lips hard to hers. The tip of my tongue glided across her upper lip and her mouth opened to allow my tongue access. Our tongues danced, swirled and probed as my hand moved under her shirt, up across her ribs, beneath the padding of her bra and found the nipple flat against her chest. Gwen gasped and broke the kiss "Oh, God, it feels so exciting to have someone touch me there and the sparks still shoot directly to my vagina." She grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard while I pinched her nipple between my thumb and finger, rolling it back and forth. Gwen broke the kiss and reached down to raise her shirt up and pulled it over her head. I reached behind her and unclasped her bra and watched as it slipped down her chest. The intact breast looked like it was probably a 34B with a small pink aerolae and a hard half inch nipple. For her age, her breast had very little sag. Her left nipple was somewhat distorted from the surgery yet still erect. I will admit that while the lopsided look was different from anything I had seen before, it was oddly erotic.