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Authors: Alexandra Brenton
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now.”
And everyone on the boat, mimicking the boat’s own motion, turned their backs to the wreckage, much as Hollywood did to Britney Spears in 2007.
All save one. For Marianna would not look away while so many lives were at risk.
The tip of the Mayor’s boat was now flat with the sea, like a man’s penis when he lies down on his back before you give him a blowjob. But one figure wearing a captain’s hat had climbed onto the fallen mast of the Mayor’s boat. Could it be Larry? Waves lapped at the figure, half-submerged in the ocean’s gaping maw, shimmying along the mast like it was a stripper’s pole and many dollar bills depended on it.
A larger wave rolled in, for a while pushing the mast back into the air. Marianna could see Larry clearly now—his clothes soaked to his back, muscles rippling from the effort. Marianna noted, too, his pleasant bottom, cheeks clenching and unclenching with each shimmy up the mast. For a moment, she visualized those same cheeks clenching and unclenching with a thrust, a thrust deep into her feminine core, and Marianna felt the earth move in ways that had nothing to do with the rocky seas.
Larry was somehow now at the tip of the fallen ship’s mast. What is he doing? Marianna thought for a moment, before once again slipping into a dreamlike state in which she fantasized about other games played with just the tip. Larry, unaware of the storm in Marianna’s mind, continued his manly, but mysterious, work. Larry still had the ropes draped over his shoulders—he tied one end to the top of the mast and then began inching backwards down the mast, waves crashing over him.
Oh, you could tie me down with those ropes, big boy…
Chas’s head bobbed above the water still. As Larry reached the bottom of the mast, he patted the boy on the head. But Larry then stood up, carrying the other end of the rope, and jumped back to the other boat, like a pear-shaped lion.
Why is Larry leaving the boy? What is he doing?
Larry then tied the other end of the rope to his own yacht’s mast. The boats’ fates were now connected. When his men saw this, they began shouting, faces contorted with fear and anger. “Captain, you’ll kill us all!”
Again, Larry’s voice carried over the wind: “Men, on my command— RAISE THE SAILS !”
Marianna was aghast. In storms like this, boats needed to take their sails down, or risk being flipped by the wind and the waves. Larry’s men seemed similarly shocked—each with the look of having drawn the final spot at a gang bang. Would they mutiny?
“Men, am I not your captain?”
The men nodded solemnly.
“Men, have I ever led you astray?”
The men shook their heads, this time with more passion, although one man appeared to say something about a bar in Bangkok.
“Then men, you have my orders!”
“ AYE AYE CAPTAIN! ” The men both feared and respected their Captain. Marianna saw this and was aroused. She began rubbing her thighs together discreetly.
The men rushed to their stations, as Larry took the helm. Larry’s boat started to pull away from the Mayor’s sideways yacht, with the boy still on board. Larry began to rotate his boat so that its rear now formed a “T” with the fallen yacht. His men, hands twitching with nerves, tensed up.
“Wait for my command!” Larry’s voice was loud, clear and somehow calm.
Suddenly, a wave crashed against the vessels, pushing the two boats away from each other—the rope between the boats suddenly grew tauter. Larry’s boat started to tip. Would both boats be lost?
“NOW! Men! NOW! Raise the sails!”
The men, in a fluid motion akin to a circle jerk, moved in unison—the sails snapped up, and instantly, the gale-force winds cracked into them. Larry’s boat surged forward powerfully with a fury so great that the rope between the boats now stood as tight as a tightrope. The mast of the Mayor’s
And everyone on the boat, mimicking the boat’s own motion, turned their backs to the wreckage, much as Hollywood did to Britney Spears in 2007.
All save one. For Marianna would not look away while so many lives were at risk.
The tip of the Mayor’s boat was now flat with the sea, like a man’s penis when he lies down on his back before you give him a blowjob. But one figure wearing a captain’s hat had climbed onto the fallen mast of the Mayor’s boat. Could it be Larry? Waves lapped at the figure, half-submerged in the ocean’s gaping maw, shimmying along the mast like it was a stripper’s pole and many dollar bills depended on it.
A larger wave rolled in, for a while pushing the mast back into the air. Marianna could see Larry clearly now—his clothes soaked to his back, muscles rippling from the effort. Marianna noted, too, his pleasant bottom, cheeks clenching and unclenching with each shimmy up the mast. For a moment, she visualized those same cheeks clenching and unclenching with a thrust, a thrust deep into her feminine core, and Marianna felt the earth move in ways that had nothing to do with the rocky seas.
Larry was somehow now at the tip of the fallen ship’s mast. What is he doing? Marianna thought for a moment, before once again slipping into a dreamlike state in which she fantasized about other games played with just the tip. Larry, unaware of the storm in Marianna’s mind, continued his manly, but mysterious, work. Larry still had the ropes draped over his shoulders—he tied one end to the top of the mast and then began inching backwards down the mast, waves crashing over him.
Oh, you could tie me down with those ropes, big boy…
Chas’s head bobbed above the water still. As Larry reached the bottom of the mast, he patted the boy on the head. But Larry then stood up, carrying the other end of the rope, and jumped back to the other boat, like a pear-shaped lion.
Why is Larry leaving the boy? What is he doing?
Larry then tied the other end of the rope to his own yacht’s mast. The boats’ fates were now connected. When his men saw this, they began shouting, faces contorted with fear and anger. “Captain, you’ll kill us all!”
Again, Larry’s voice carried over the wind: “Men, on my command— RAISE THE SAILS !”
Marianna was aghast. In storms like this, boats needed to take their sails down, or risk being flipped by the wind and the waves. Larry’s men seemed similarly shocked—each with the look of having drawn the final spot at a gang bang. Would they mutiny?
“Men, am I not your captain?”
The men nodded solemnly.
“Men, have I ever led you astray?”
The men shook their heads, this time with more passion, although one man appeared to say something about a bar in Bangkok.
“Then men, you have my orders!”
“ AYE AYE CAPTAIN! ” The men both feared and respected their Captain. Marianna saw this and was aroused. She began rubbing her thighs together discreetly.
The men rushed to their stations, as Larry took the helm. Larry’s boat started to pull away from the Mayor’s sideways yacht, with the boy still on board. Larry began to rotate his boat so that its rear now formed a “T” with the fallen yacht. His men, hands twitching with nerves, tensed up.
“Wait for my command!” Larry’s voice was loud, clear and somehow calm.
Suddenly, a wave crashed against the vessels, pushing the two boats away from each other—the rope between the boats suddenly grew tauter. Larry’s boat started to tip. Would both boats be lost?
“NOW! Men! NOW! Raise the sails!”
The men, in a fluid motion akin to a circle jerk, moved in unison—the sails snapped up, and instantly, the gale-force winds cracked into them. Larry’s boat surged forward powerfully with a fury so great that the rope between the boats now stood as tight as a tightrope. The mast of the Mayor’s
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