The Crew

Mkhonto

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I was told by a friend who is an author: "Don't write the story- it will write itself." I also have an earn-a-crust-to-pay-the-rent job, so I write stories as and when. This is a story about a bloke in a beautiful place with a beautiful girl. I may have a few sequels to it, as Neil became a character to me as I wrote him. Ros- well, we'll see about her. If anyone has any comments or suggestions, post 'em here, 'cos one day I want to write like Jallen944 or Den.

Part 1
“It’s going to be one of those days again,” thought Neil to himself as he watched the steam rise from the Landy’s bonnet. It seemed like one of the tailbacks from a metropolis, but a herd of scrawny cattle in the back-roads of Pemba could stop traffic just as well, and he was stuck in it with a crew-member at the airport, and a charter-yacht in pieces. And a serious deluge of rain just made things worse. And muddy. He cursed and lit a cigarette.
Looking over at his briefcase on the seat next to him, he turned over his diary and hunted out the page which had been faxed to him. His prospective crewmember sounded like an average twenty-something traveler, but the faxed copy of her passport showed nothing but a black smudge for a photograph. Neil’s thoughts turned to the truculent nogoodsonofabitch pile of spares the owner called an engine, and he wondered if his new crew- Ros, wasn’t it?- had brought the replacement part form down south.
He drove into the airport. It was really just a corrugated-iron shed with political posters peeling from it which dated back to the bush war. The rain was still bucketing down and the airfield looked dismal, and as he strode into the office with the hand-written sign saying “Transit Longue” on it, he scanned the passengers who were waiting there. A few locals looked at him, and the Immigration official pointed a bony hand at the young woman in the corner. Ros looked up at Neil, and she stood up, nodding to the official as she bent over for her bag.
“So you’re the skipper? Hi, I’m Ros. This is what you’ve been waiting for, I think.” She said, offering a hand with a box in it.
“Shit- sorry! Let me get your bag. I’m Neil. Nice to meet you!” he said, taking her duffel and the box of spares from her. “You don’t look anything like the splodge they faxed me- look!”
Ros was wearing a Mount Gay baseball cap with a pair of sunglasses over the bill, and a pair of khaki combat trousers under a heavy ocean racing jacket with a boat’s name and logo’s all over it. Neil showed her the fax that he’d received.
“Gee, that’s a nice picture! Do I really look like a splodge? Well this is me,” she said and took off her cap. Her dark chestnut hair was long, cut just below her shoulders, and it was wildly curly with sun-kissed highlights. She smiled.
They walked out of the shed and over to the Land Rover. Neil put her bag over his shoulder and hurried round to the passenger door and opened it with a flourish for Ros.
She giggled.
“Welcome aboard our luxury airport shuttle,” said Neil.
Ros made a mock curtsey and swung herself up into the cab.
“Scuse me- I gotta get this thing off,” she said as she removed her heavy jacket. “I got this thing on a delivery a few months ago, but it’s bloody hot.”
Neil smiled and looked over at her as he climbed in. “She really is quite pretty,” he thought as he started the old Landy.
He glanced at Ros again as they turned onto the rutted road back down to the beach. She was tall- about 5’10”, he guessed, and very slim. Her t-shirt was snug-fitting, and he couldn’t help but notice how nice Ros’s small breasts, unfettered by underwear, looked. They bumped and lurched their way down a sand road and soon arrived at the clearing next to the owner’s beach-house.
“Well, there’s home.” said Neil, as they looked out over the mud-flats at the 58’ catamaran idly swinging to her anchor. “She’s a tip at the moment- I’ve got the starboard engine in pieces, but I’ll put your present in and close her up. We’ll be good to go by this afternoon.”
Ros gaped at the boat. “Let’s get going,” she said, and started unzipping the bottoms of her trousers. Neil watched her long bronzed legs emerge from the functional trousers.
“You must have seen these before,” said Ros as she caught his stare.
“What? Long legs like those? No!” Neil laughed.
“No, man, my trousers! Let’s go! Am I going to be safe on this boat alone with you?” she asked with a giggle.
Neil felt his cock stirring in his jeans, and took the opportunity to get out of the Landy. He grabbed Ros’s bag and the box and slammed the door. As she stepped out of her door and bumped it shut she was donning her jacket. She lifted her arms and Neil caught a glimpse of her flat golden tummy as her shirt rode up. His dick stiffened noticeably. It was going to be difficult working with a woman like this.
Neil and Ros walked out over the weed-covered mud-flat, with the rain hissing down around them.
The big catamaran looked like a condominium sitting on the mud, and Neil lifted the luggage aboard. He hiked himself up and reached down for Ros’s hand.
“Put your foot there,” he said.
“Okay- hup!” he called as he pulled Ros onto the swim-deck.
“She’s huge!” gasped Ros, looking round.
She took off her jacket and dumped it over her bag on a seat. Her t-shirt front was soaked through, and her little pink nipples showed clearly through the rain-soaked material. They had hardened into tight little points, and her skin was full of goose-bumps. “Shees, I’m cold from this rain,” she said.
Neil opened the big sliding door into the saloon, and stepped inside.
“Come inside and get warm. Cuppa coffee?” he asked, trying to hide his sizeable erection behind the box of spares. “I need to get some dry kit on. Kettle’s over there,” he pointed.

Neil sat down on his bunk and pulled his jeans and rugby-jersey off. He thought for a moment. In actual fact, they were supposed to share a cabin- after all, the owner had requested a couple as crew, but Neil had just been abandoned by his long-time girlfriend- so he called back to her: “You can sleep anywhere you like, but you have to share my pit when we have guests. You okay with that? It’s a twin cabin, so if you don’t snore, you’re safe. I drown snorers!”
He grabbed a towel and dried his dark wavy hair. His thick penis stuck awkwardly down the front of his briefs, and he tucked it below the waistband. He was just about to grab some trousers from the locker when Ros put her head round the door. She had a towel round her breasts that just covered her butt, and Neil could smell her perfume.
“Hi. Where’s my bunk?” Ros asked him. “Shit- I’m sorry- I thought you were, um, uh…”
Her voice trailed off and she blushed furiously. Her nose wasn’t quite snub, but it had a sprinkle of freckles, and the skin on her breasts and shoulders was honey-gold, which contrasted with her blue-green eyes. She had seen his erection, and was furiously embarrassed.
“Don’t worry- you can take the bottom bunk,” Neil gestured at the three-quarter bunk. “I’m coming up now.”
Ros eased her way into the small cabin and put her bag next to Neil. She rooted through her duffel and fished out some shorts and a tank top.
“Don’t worry- you’ve got a much bigger chest than me!” she joked as she turned her back. She pulled the shorts up under the towel, and then, with her back turned, shrugged her way into her very tight tank-top. She whipped the towel aside and turned round. Neil just stared. Her hard little nipples were still showing through the tank-top, and she smiled.
“It’s okay- I’ve grown up with three brothers- I’ve seen it all,” she said, making Neil aware of his throbbing erection. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but I think you’re really cute. The agent in Johannesburg told me all about you, but she didn’t tell me you were so good looking.”
Neil had spent two years racing professionally, but having rowed and sailed for his University for five years, he had built on an already impressive physique. Now he had shoulders like a T-bone steak and the torso of a fitness-magazine cover model. It was Ros’s turn to stare as he stood up. He pulled on a pair of chino shorts and a black polo shirt, and picked up his wet towel. As he bent over he could feel Ros looking at him. “Screw professionalism,” he thought to himself “this girl’s gonna mess with my mind.”
“Listen, Ros- about that coffee- could you bring it into the starboard engine-room. I’d really like some help, and you can keep me company. It’s not that bad- I’ll be about an hour, then we can chat. I’ll make dinner tonight.” he said as he ducked out of the cabin.
 

Mkhonto

Experimental Member
Joined
Nov 15, 2005
Posts
47
Media
0
Likes
9
Points
228
Location
Far from here
Sexuality
100% Straight, 0% Gay
Gender
Male
OMG! Loks like I'll have to dig out my trusty Remington Rand typewriter and fire up the cheap whiskey... I must confess that I've had a whole lot of shit in my life that gets in the way of creative writing...
In the intervening few years, I've had kids, moved cities, changed jobs and acquired a few muses who have ALL been telling me to get back and write!
If you bear with me and let me re-visit my stories, I think I may be able to oblige you with more of the same...
Thanks for the support, people!