Aaron Smith's Life Adventures

Forever glad I didn’t decide to go into the Coast Guard or the Navy, I spent as much time as possible in a lawn chair under the shade on deck.  Even then, the excessive movement of the ship rattled my senses.  Everyone else enjoyed the first few days we traveled away from Florida.  Getting through the day without vomiting was a feather in my cap.  The pounding in my head was ceaseless.  Mitch talked about flying home when we reached a destination port, but I didn’t want to spoil things for him.  I told him, “I just need time to adjust to the motion.  I’ve never been on the water before.  Give it some time.”

He scoffed, and I reminded him that our brief marriage had already seen worse than some sea sickness.  He smiled at me and held me.  With my eyes closed, things didn’t seem so bad.

On the third day out, it began to rain.  No storm, just a mild breeze, but what really surprised me was how calm the water was.  My stomach calmed down, and I was able to keep down my food.

After lunch, Mitch pulled me over to the windows overlooking the front deck.  “The captain wants to stop near a small island that’s about thirty minutes ahead to adjust a hose or something like that.  I’m glad you’re feeling better, and if you’re up to it, we can take the dingy to shore.”

“Sounds good.  You know, if things were this calm all the time, I wouldn’t mind traveling by sea.  We don’t seem to have the best of luck in the air.”

Mitch looked at me.  “You know, just because two trips by plane out of the three we’ve taken so far were a little scary…”

“Mildly put,” I interjected.

“Well,” he smiled, “maybe that was a little un-hyperbolic.”

“From the New and Improved Epstein Collegiate Dictionary,” I added.

“I’m a classy guy, what can I say?”  He smiled and then leaned toward my ear.  “Let’s go to our cabin and fuck.”

“In our suits and ties?”

“How else would classy guys do it?”  He chuckled.

“I didn’t bring a suit or a tie,” I reminded him.

“I’ll pretend.”

We headed to our room.

Mitch pulled me inside the room and snapped the lock on the door.

“I feel like a shower first,” I told him.

His smile broadened.  “Hell, yeah.  That means you want to rim me, doesn’t it.”

I shrugged my shoulders.  “I guess I just like to hear you squeal like a little kid with a new toy.”

His face became serious.  “I love you.  I wish I could write songs and sing them because I want to write one about you and sing it to the world.”

“We can do karaoke tonight, and you can sing any love song you want.  And no matter how out of tune you sing it, I’ll just love you all the more for it.”

Mitch kissed me deeply.  His tongue explored every area of my mouth before he released me.  “It wouldn’t be that out of tune, you know.”

“I know.  My ears have auto-tune where you’re concerned.”

“That’s a lie, and I know it, but it’s another reason I love you.”  He pulled his shirt off before tugging on mine, and soon we were in the shower.  Hot water poured over us as we lathered every square inch of our bodies.  

We were rinsed and not completely dry when I pushed him forward on the bed and spread his cheeks.  His hole was so small, and the edges were slightly wrinkled.  Short, dark hair surrounded the hole, and his sphincter quivered as I licked it.  I could tell he was trying to remain quiet, but quick little gasp-like squeals escaped from time to time.  The area was a sloppy, wet mess when I pushed my tongue into his hole and then pulled it out to travel up his ass crack to his lower back.

The second time I pushed my tongue in, he whimpered.  “Fuck me with your dick.  Push it into me.”

I moved up over him and aligned the head of my penis with his hole.  I leaned my head down and touched my lips to his shoulder.  I applied pressure.  He resisted slightly and then gave in.  About half of me slid inside him.  I grunted in response and he squeaked a yes.

My thrusts, though gentle and short at first became longer and more forceful.  Mitch arched his back and met my thrusts.  This excited me more, and I banged into him with even more vigor.  I wanted to shove my entire body into his.  I wanted to be completely one with him.

As I came, I felt the increased pressure around my shaft.  Was it possible that each time we made love the pleasure would increase?

Mitch pulled away from me and rolled over.  He began to furiously pump his dick.

“No,” I shook my head.   “Come inside me.”  I rolled onto my back and spread my cheeks for him.  He bent forward over me.  His eyes were filled with lust.  I spat into my hand and rubbed my hole.  He shoved himself into me.  The pain of the sudden stretch was dulled by my intense desire to be fucked and fucked hard.  Mitch pounded me for fewer than thirty seconds before he filled me with his seed.  He collapsed onto me and I held him to me.

We were both gasping for air.  Our heart rates were too rapid to count, and I felt his tears as they fell onto my chest.  We said nothing, but at that moment, I knew that I wanted children with him.  I wanted to grow old with him.  I wanted our children to have children.  I wanted us to be Grandpa Mitch and Grandpa Aaron.  I could see our whole lives as a succession of happy adventures.

The two of us fell asleep, and when we awoke, we both noticed that the ship was still calmly moving.  We showered again and dressed.  I asked for, and received, a promise of a repeat of the afternoon session.  

“Are we allowed to look at the engine room?” I asked as we walked into the corridor.

“I suppose,” Mitch replied.  “I’ve never asked, but I don’t see why not.  I’m sure it’s back this way and down a level.”

I followed him, and after taking some steps down to an area with a low ceiling, I heard some quiet moaning from an area behind us.  Mitch grinned and put his finger to his mouth.  I made the universal sign for jerking off, and I could tell that he was stifling a giggle.  We crept toward the sound, and I peeked around a corner.  I immediately turned beet red and backed away.  Mitch pushed me away to have a look.  He pulled back and turned to go back up the stairs.  I followed him, and when we reached the top, I grabbed his arm.

“Don’t say anything to him,” I said in a soft voice.

Mitch bit his bottom lip.

I pulled him to me.  “He’s trying to figure things out.”

“But…”  I saw him drop his eyes to the floor.

“But what?” I asked.  “So Stuart’s fucking the captain.  And the captain was obviously enjoying it.”  Mitch looked back into my eyes.  I smiled.  “Hey, at least it’s not your sister.”

He brought his eyebrows together in that way I found so sexy.  “Or your mom.”  He grinned.

“Or yours.”  I did a fake shudder.

“Or your grandmother,” he punched my shoulder as he said it.

“My grandmother is dead.  That’d be disgusting.”

He laughed.  “You’re right.  Stu will tell me when he’s ready.  But the captain is so old.”

“Is that what you’ll say about me someday?” I asked.

“You won’t be getting fucked by an eighteen-year-old when you’re a hundred.”

“The captain’s not a hundred.  He’s probably about fifty.”

Mitch locked eyes with me.  We stared at one another.  I pulled him to me and kissed him.  He slid his chin over my shoulder and hugged me.  “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I replied.

“Oh, it will be.  Just wait.”

I began to tickle his abs.  They were so muscular that I felt a twinge in my crotch.

“Gentlemen.”

We turned to see the captain coming up the stairs.

“Sir,” I replied with a nod.  I watched him as he passed.  He was walking normally.  Stuart had not pounded him hard enough, I thought.  I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing.

“I saw you looking at his ass,” said Mitch.

“Just to see if it was leaking,” I replied.  “No other reason.”

“What are you two doing?” asked Stuart as he came up the stairs.  His face began to blush.

“We thought we’d have a little privacy for a quick make-out session,” said Mitch.  “What are you up to?”

Stuart adjusted himself and said, “A little over seven inches.”  He stared at Mitch.

Mitch stared back.

I waited, but neither one said anything.  “Boy,” I finally said.  “Call a truce.”

“I know you were following me,” Stuart finally said.

“We weren’t,” I told him.  “I just wanted to see the engine room.”

“Did you see it?” he asked with an acerbic tone.

“Not yet,” I replied.

Stuart glanced from me to Mitch.  “Are you going to tell?”

I had a flashback to a time my brother had caught me taking a pencil from my mother’s desk.  I had asked him whether he was going to tell on me.  He hugged me and kissed my head and said nothing.  I’d never felt closer to him than at that moment.  I stepped over to Stuart and hugged him.  I kissed his temple gently, and I said nothing.  Mitch joined us in a group hug.  I heard Mitch whisper, “I love you, Stewie.”

Before anyone said anything else, I heard Mrs. Epstein’s voice.  “What the fuck is this?  Preparing for an orgy?”

I gave Stuart a little squeeze and released him.  “Just a brother moment,” I said.  “I’m going to get my camera and meet you on deck.  I want to get some pictures of you.”

I left the three of them and went back to the cabin.  I retrieved the small camera I’d purchased for the trip and locked the strap around my wrist.  I didn’t want to risk dropping it into the ocean.  With my luck, a shark would bite my arm off while I reached for it.  There would be no Beluga whales rescuing it for me.

I stood near the canopy and snapped a few photos of the ship.  Off to my right, I could see an island.  It did not appear that large, but I could see a sandy beach and a few trees.  Occasionally, a water droplet from a nearby cloud would fall on me, but there was no rain.  To the left, the sky looked rather dark.  At first, I figured it was just later in the day than I had previously thought.  Mitch came out, and I took some pictures of him fooling around with the deck furniture.

The clouds began to billow up and formed a beautiful background behind the front of the ship.  Mitch wanted to stand at the bow and make silly poses for me.  He’d wrapped a rope around his arm and leaned back as he sat on the railing.  He alternated between smiling and making faces.  As I continued to click away on the shutter, the wind picked up and the air got cold.  I looked toward the east but did not comprehend what I was seeing.  A band of grey rushed at the ship.

“What’s that?” I called over to Mitch.  I saw him look in that direction and shrug.  He looked back at me.  I turned to watch the greyness loom larger.  In an instant, everything became wet.  The deck of the ship rose up.  I lost my footing and fell sideways, my head striking the floor.  Water covered me, and I couldn’t see.  I couldn’t breathe.  I tried to stand, but the deck of the boat was no longer there.  I looked around.  I was in the ocean; straight ahead was darkness, and behind me, the water seemed clearer.  I kicked my feet to swim toward the light.

When my head broke water, I gulped air.  The surface of the water moved in swells, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be a rubber raft.  I fought to make my way to it and to pull myself into it.  I could hear voices screaming and crying.  I hollered, “This way!”

Mrs. Epstein appeared first, and I pulled her as she scrambled to get in.  She was breathing heavily and appeared dazed.  Stuart swam up next; he was holding a lifebuoy.

“Where’s Amelia,” he cried.

I raised up as far as I could and saw no one else.  I heard a scream from behind me, and looking, I saw Amelia standing on some sand.  “She’s on the beach.”  I searched the water again.  “Where was Mitch?”