Abandon Ship! Man The Lifeboats

This started off as a simple idea and just grew. I’ve had fun writing it and even did a little research; although anyone with knowledge of navigation and Victorian sailing will probably say I should have done more. Enjoy x

“Man the lifeboats! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!”

We had been at sea for ten days when the storm hit, our splendid vessel battered and broken into no more than firewood, all the passengers and crew seemingly lost.

I came to, my legs dangling in the water and my arms and upper body atop some flotsam. The sea around me was calm, with small pieces of wreckage everywhere. I tried to look around, the throbbing pain in my head and the low morning sun making it hard to focus; no one to be seen, just me.

I pulled myself up onto the driftwood, too tired to think, my mind too blurred to do anything other than curl up and sleep.

Davy, Davy Arthur that’s me, eighteen years old and on my first ship. I’d grown up by the Thames, my father worked on the tugs but died when I was young. It was in my blood and I’d always dreamt of being at sea, then my mother died and I got a job as a stoker on the SS Cadwallader, sailing to the new world.

“Hello, Hello. Are you ok there, are you alive?”

I tried to follow the voice, a ladies voice, young and a bit screechy as she shouted out to me, “Hello, I’m over here, can you see me?” I slowly turned my head and body to the left, maybe thirty, maybe fifty yards from me was a small wooden life boat, a lady frantically waving her arms at me. I managed to raise one arm to let her know I was alive and she started to paddle with one oar, the boat turning sideways rather than towards me, I think I passed out again.

“Hello, are you alright, can you move?” The voice was much closer now, kind and posh, like the ladies I had sometimes heard in London. The boat was only a few feet from me but I felt hardly able to move, all my strength needed to perch up on one elbow.

“I’ll hold out the oar, see if you can grab it.”

I held on for dear life and found myself getting closer, till a soft hand grasped my wrist. “You’ll have to help me, I can’t pull you in by myself. Can you get onto your knees?”

I did as she said and plonked myself onto the small lifeboat, almost tipping us as I did so. “Oh you poor thing, you’re all cuts and bruises.” As she said this she supported my head and offered water to my lips, “Drink slowly in case you get sick.”

I looked up at her pale lips and beautiful green eyes and wondered if she were an angel and I were dead; my thoughts slipping as my eyes closed; the ripping of material and my angel saying “We must cover you from the sun.” being the last sounds I heard.

I felt a wet cloth on my forehead and heard soothing words being spoken, the smiling face of my angle looking down at me as I opened my eyes. “Hello again.” I think I smiled back and then tried to sit up “Take it easy, let me help you.” I felt the wonderful softness of her body against mine as she set me upright.

The spinning in my head slowed as I tried to focus and clear the fog in my brain; shipwreck, lifeboat, angel. “Do you remember going overboard and the ship sinking?” My angel asked.

I shook my head, “I think you must have banged your head pretty badly, you have a nasty bruise on the side of it.” I put my hand up and felt the tender area above my ear. “I think you have what Professor Gower refers to as a concussion, are you familiar with Professor Gower’s work.” I again shook my head.

“He’s the eminent neurologist of our time. I think you should be ok in a day or two.”

I nodded. “What’s your name, are you an angel?”

She looked taken aback and then burst out laughing. “Oh my dear thing, no I’m not an angel and you are very much alive. My names Jemima Fairweather but you may call me Jemi, all my friends do. What’s your name?”

“Davy Arthur.”

“Nice to meet you Davy Arthur, may I call you Davy?” I nodded, “now, how do we get out of this pickle.”

I followed her gaze as she looked around, nothing but water and us in a small wooden boat, no more than fifteen feet long. I looked around our boat; there were three small wooden boxes, only one rowing oar and Jemi, her fine morning dress torn in several places and what looked like some of the dress material tied around her head. Seeing me stare Jemi blushed slightly before explaining, “I lost my hat as I got into the boat and needed to cover my head from the sun, I used the rest of it to cover you.”

I became aware that I was wearing a sort of cloak over my shoulders, my vest nowhere to be seen and my already threadbare britches now even more tattered as they clung to my legs. Another small square of the dress was by my side and I guessed that that had covered my head.

“Thank you for rescuing me.”

“No need to thank me. Now tell me Davy, what did you do on board, do you know how to navigate?”

“I was a junior stoker, I don’t know how to read charts and such but I know the tides on the Thames like the back of my hand.”

Jemi smiled sweetly. If she wasn’t an angel then she was the most beautiful lady I had ever seen, her cheeks reddening as she caught my stare. “Well I’ve read a few books on navigation and if we can work out which way we need to go then maybe we can make a sail. Do you want something to eat?”

I didn’t know there was any food and must have looked confused, “I was put into the lifeboat first and then they handed down some boxes of provisions. As the other ladies went to get into the boat the ship listed badly and I broke away, soon after it sank.” She looked as if she would cry.

“I’m very sorry for you if your husband or family were on board.”

She smiled, “No husband and my family are all in England. Actually if you promise not to tell anyone.” She smiled wider as she looked around at the vast, empty sea, “that’s why I’m here. My father wanted me to marry the horrid Marcus but I wanted to continue my education and become a scientist. My grandfather had left me an endowment for when I was twenty one, so I bought a ticket and ran away. I plan to attend university when I reach America.” The sad look returned as she said this.

Not wanting her to be sad I started telling her about myself, how I’d never been to school but enjoyed working on the tug and now wanted to see the world. How I’d courted Mary Deacy but when it had gotten serious I decided on the sea rather than marriage.

She smiled, “So we’re both running away.” I nodded and smiled back

“I think we have another few hours of sun before it gets dark. Cover your head and we’ll eat something, then we’ll see if we can make a sail.” I hadn’t a clue about how she planned on making a sail and was still a bit shook from the bang on the head. I knotted the dress material around my head and waited to see what food we had.

“If we ration ourselves I think we have enough food and water for three or four days, maybe more. It’s mainly bread and some cured meat, also a little cheese which we should eat first.” She opened one of the boxes and passed me some bread and cheese, trying to remember my manners I waited for her to start.

“Bon appétit.”

Gently smiling at my puzzled look, Jemi said, “It means enjoy your meal in French.”

“Bon appétit.” I tried back.

Jemi spoke rapidly as she ate “Where do you think our closest land is? I think we might be closer to the West Indies than we are to America. We should head north westerly; also I think they’ll be more trading vessels in that direction, more chance of being rescued.”

I smiled at her enthusiasm and at her knowledge, “How are we going to make a sail?” I asked.

She pointed at one of the benches in the boat, “That one has a hole in it, we can stand the oar up in it and use you belt to lash it tightly, if that works we’ll use some of my dress to make a sail. As the sun goes down we’ll know which way is west.”

She must have seen the worried look on my face, “Don’t you think it’ll work?”

“It’s not that.”

“What then?”

I went bright red, “My britches will fall down without my belt.”

Jemi tried but couldn’t stop herself from laughing, “Oh Davy that’s so funny, you’ll still have your underpants on.”

I went even redder and Jemi realized, her own cheeks flushing. “You haven’t got any underpants on, have you?”

I shook my head, struggling to look at Jemi’s smiling face, “Well we really need that belt, and I’ll be down to my undergarments also.”

We finished the food in silence, Jemi smiling the whole time and I beginning to see the funny side of it and realizing that in the grand scheme of being stranded at sea, me losing my britches didn’t matter. Worryingly, I found my penis beginning to twitch at the thought of it.

“How shall we do this, do you think we should fix the mast first or try and fashion a sail first?” As Jemi asked this she stood up and moved forward, the small boat instantly becoming unstable and beginning to rock “Well these ruddy boots will have to go for a start, I struggle to walk in them at the best of times, not alone balance on a small boat.” She sat down and hiked her garments to her knees, giving me a delectable view of her stocking covered calf as she went about unfastening her boots. I quickly looked away as she caught me staring “Oh Davy you are funny, I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other before we get off this boat.” There was a slight mocking tone in her voice that I didn’t like.

Sensing my unease and embarrassment, Jemi continued in a softer tone “Davy, I want you to look at me.” lifting my head I saw that her dress was still at her knees and Jemi was smiling at me, her beautiful face and eyes alive with merriment and mischief. She lifted her hem higher, parting her legs slightly as her fingers searched inside her chemise for the top of her stocking. I knew I should look away but couldn’t, Jemi’s fingers slowly rolling down her stocking and that first view of her gloriously soft, pale thighs. I think I may have stopped breathing, only Jemi’s sigh bringing me back to life. Her cheeks had a high flush to them and her eyes appeared glazed as another deep breath escaped her soft lips, her legs parting once more as she felt for the other stocking.

As she removed her stocking and lowered her dress Jemi looked straight at me, “Did you enjoy that?”

I was in awe of her confidence and brazenness but found myself shocked, confused and upset at her forthrightness. “Miss, I may only be a stoker but please don’t treat me as a fool.”

She moved closer and sat down in front of me, taking both my hands Jemi said, “Oh Davy I’m not treating you as a fool. I’m sorry if I shocked you but I’ve always wanted to feel a man’s eyes on me the way yours were, their desire almost burning my skin. We may die on this boat and there’s so many things I want to experience before I die.” She paused as if thinking, “Have you ever kissed a girl?” before I could answer or even shake my head she leant in closer and kissed me, the sea saltiness of her lips soon replaced by the warmth and softness of her probing tongue.

I kissed her back and went to hold her tighter but Jemi broke the embrace, smiling and then blushing as she looked down at the bulge in my britches “Later, we haven’t got much time before nightfall, sail or mast first?” I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head.

“I think it would be difficult to attach any sort of sail standing up, we’d probably fall overboard. We should attach it first, then pull it out when the mast is secured.” Jemi agreed with my suggestion and retrieved a knife from the provisions box. She turned around and sat down between my legs, “Help me undo this dress.”

Sensing my hesitancy Jemi spoke again, “Come on Davy, we need this dress if we’re going to make a sail and beside I’ll still have my chemise on.” Her voice faltered as she said this, as if suddenly remembering something, “What?” I asked.

“Nothing really, we’ll address it later.” I didn’t know what it was but I could tell she was blushing, the back of her neck reddening also.

I was all fingers and thumbs as I undid her buttons, the situation not helped by Jemi animatedly deploring the gowns women were expected to wear and wondering why they shouldn’t be allowed to wear britches and shirts also.

“I don’t know, that’s just the way it is.” Was the best I could offer.

“Poppycock, that’s no reason for anything.” I smiled at her temper and spirit.

When all the buttons were undone Jemi still struggled to get her arms out of the tight sleeves “Don’t just sit there, help me.” This involved me leaning forward, putting my arms around her and pulling the sleeves as she pushed back, our bodies pressed tight together and my head wedged beside hers. I thought to kiss her cheek but daren’t.

With the top of her dress now off Jemi sat upright and began to remove her petticoats, I took the liberty of staying where I was, with Jemi’s dress covered bottom wedged firmly between my spread legs. As the last petticoat came off I saw the back of her corset, the gaps between the tight ties revealing her sleeveless chemise and the beautiful soft skin of her upper back. I had seen washer women stripped down to similar garments as they pummeled wet clothing in the street, but none seemed as alluring or forbidden as this.

Jemi sat there waiting for me to move, “Come on Davy, undo this blasted corset.”

“Yes ma’am.” I said this cheekily and was delighted to hear Jemi giggle.

“Finally, I can now breath.” I knew what Jemi meant but if I was to be honest I didn’t see much difference, her slim waist and shapely back looking the same to me. “We’ll need some of those bones to keep the sail stiff.” Jemi said as she laid the corset down.

I had no real idea of the time or how much daylight we had left, maybe 11/2 hours. I was in no hurry, happy to admire Jemi’s back, but I could tell she was restless and a little uncertain; eventually she turned and looked at me.

“How much do you know about ladies undergarments?” She could tell by my face that the answer was nothing.

“This is the latest chemise design, all in one piece, the bloomers connected to the top, far less bulky than wearing multiple layers.” I nodded, having no idea where this was going, watching Jemi’s face as it went beetroot red, “As such it is open in the middle, when I take my dress off you’ll be able to see everything,”

It was my turn to blush as the meaning of this dawned on me, Jemi’s hand touched my reddened face gently, “Oh Davy, you’re such a sweetie. Now you must promise not to laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Well the garments look ridiculous and you’ll see everything.”

“I promise.”

“Good, now lie back.”

“Yes ma’am.” Was my answer to Jemi’s latest order, she pursed her lips and gave me an evil stare before smiling.

I lay down and Jemi turned again, lying down between my legs, her whole weight against my crotch as she set her feet and lifted her hips, using her hands to wiggle the dress down. I knew I shouldn’t be looking but couldn’t help myself, my eyes first drawn to her high bust and the hard little nubs that poked through her chemise, then to the little wisps of golden hair, clearly visible as she arched her pelvis upwards to get the dress off.

I was suddenly mortified, Jemi must undoubtedly be aware of my own hardness, rammed as it was between her shoulder blades. I was struck by a funny memory of some of the rather lewd terms I’d heard other sailors use for a penis; rudder, maypole, tallywacker to name but a few. My memories were interrupted by movement, rather than sitting upright and slapping my face as I’d expected, Jemi was pushing backwards, her body grinding against mine till our heads were level and never before felt sensations were pulsing through my rudder.

When she stopped she turned her head and kissed my cheek, “Thank you for the help with my dress.” She sat upright, seemingly happy that she had left me with my mouth open and mute, “Now for the sail.” She said as she grabbed the knife.

At best it would be a rather simple sail, with one of us holding one side to help direct the boat. We saved half the dress to cover ourselves and used the other half to mimic a sail, small enough to handle, but hopefully big enough to be effective. Jemi was surprisingly proficient with the knife and had soon cut the materials and threaded the whale bone so that the sail was ready.

Being busy and working as a team temporarily took my mind off Jemi’s state of undress, the situation only coming back to me as I secured the sail to the oar and Jemi told me to lash it upright using my belt. I did this from a sitting position and then Jemi sat smiling at me, her knees bent up and slightly apart, as she told me to stand and hold the sail stiff.

The little glimpse between her parted legs, the thought of soon being exposed to this woman and her whole confident, sexy demeanor had my eighteen year old maypole devilishly stiff as I stood up, my britches falling as I knew they would and Jemi staring wide eyed.

“Is that a normal size?”Jemi asked as she moved closer to study it as if it were an exhibit, I shrugged my shoulders not really knowing the answer, “It looks very big to go inside one’s body.” I again shrugged my shoulders, my maypole twitching involuntarily as I wondered if that was what she had in mind. Much to my surprise Jemi then started giggling, “What a funny thing, it seems to have a mind of its own. Do you think it could get that hard and large every hour, we could use it as a sun dial.” She obviously thought this very amusing as her laughter increased, and I found myself laughing also and beginning to enjoy the close attention she was paying.

From out of nowhere I shocked myself by saying “Do you want to touch it?” “No not yet, maybe later.” Jemi replied as if it was a normal conversation. “Do you have a name for it?” I didn’t really but thought about it and decided on tallywacker, “Good description, from the Latin Talia, meaning large club or rod.” For some reason I felt quite proud, even though I’d stolen the word.

“Do you have a name for your, umm, lady bits?”

“Oh yes, of course. I’ve always called mine my fuzzy wuzzy, although as you’ve already seen it’s really more light and wispy.” I was beginning to redden even more but Jemi just smiled and continued, “some of the girls I know have virtual forests that you could get lost in for hours.” I shook my head and tried to concentrate on the sail.

I think we were both surprised by how effective the sail was, the boat jolting forward as I held it out tight, Jemi’s comment that I was now at half mast taking a while to sink in and her finding it very amusing that just talking about it made it grow hard again. “What an amazing appendage, if we get out of here I think I’ll make studying them my life’s work.” By the silly grin on her face I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

It would soon be dark and we decided to let the sail down, drinking a little water before lying side by side and staring skywards, a large, bright moon rising from the east.

I couldn’t hold it any longer, “I need to pee.” I told Jemi. “So do I, it’s a lot easier for you, you can just do it over the side, I don’t want to pee in the boat.” I thought about this for a moment and came up with an idea. “I’ll go first and then support you so you can go over the side too.” Jemi looked skeptical but I said I’d show her.

I knelt up and got ready to pee, surprised to see Jemi lean up on her elbow to watch me, her face less than two feet away from my ready to burst tallywacker, “What are you doing?”

“Well if I’m going to study it I have to see everything it does.” I was so desperate that I didn’t care, a stream bursting forth into the ocean. I was aware of Jemi saying “wow that’s a lot.” But wasn’t expecting her to put her hand out in the stream, the shock of her doing so causing me to pull my tallywacker up sharply, my pee spraying wildly, some of it, I’m sure, hitting Jemi.

“What are you doing?” I asked in shock

“Have you never put your hand into your stream of pee?”

“No.”

“Oh, well I just wanted to see if it felt the same as mine.”

“I think you got more than you were expecting.”

“I know, it tasted bitterer than mine.”

As I looked at her smiling face in the moonlight I really didn’t know what to make of this shocking woman. “Now how are you going to help me?” she asked.

I explained that I would brace my legs against the side and then hold both her arms firmly so that she could hang her bottom over the side and do her business. We did this quite successfully, Jemi’s only complaint being that it was quite painful on her arms, “Well you could hold onto my tallywacker instead.” I suggested.

Jemi laughed at this “I think I’m a bad influence on you.”

We laid back down, both of us lost in our own thoughts as we stared at the millions of stars above us, finally Jemi asking me, “Do you know anything about the stars?”

“No, do you?”

“No.”

“Haven’t you read a book about them?” This got me a playful dig in the ribs and I could see Jemi’s beautiful smile in the moonlight, after a moment she said, “Davy, if we don’t survive this I’m ever so happy that I met you.”

“And me that I met you ma’am.”

She turned her body to face me, her breasts rubbing my arm and her smile widening, “You like calling me ma’am, don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am.” I answered, struggling to keep a straight face

“Will you do whatever I tell you to do?”

“Yes ma’am, immediately.” Neither of us could keep it going, our laughter only halted by Jemi kissing me, my brain and body electrified by the feel of her lips.

Jemi broke the kiss, “None of my books ever told me how good that feels.”

“No ma’am.”

“Will you stop with that blasted ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Jemi’s exasperation made me smile but the truth was that I had been told what to do my whole life, nobody, and certainly not a lady, had ever asked my opinion.

“Davy, I’m beginning to feel cold, I want you to cuddle me.” Jemi put her finger to my lip before I could say anything.

She turned her back and bent her legs up, signally for me to cover us with the remaining dress material and to snuggle into her. I couldn’t resist one last jape, “Ma’am, what shall I do with the tallywacker?”

I heard Jemi snigger before she replied, “Remember that I still have the knife.”

I lay stiffly at first, not knowing what to do with my body or arms “Well I won’t get very warm like that.” Jemi said, “Put your right arm around me.” As I did this, Jemi took my hand and placed it on her bosom, her bottom shifting back at the same time and her soft, naked skin making contact with my own naked nether regions, my stiff tallywacker pointing northwards and becoming wedged between her generous buttocks as she wiggled her tail delightfully.

As Jemi pushed back, I pushed forward, the friction between us making my heart race and my breath shorten. As if sensing this, Jemi stopped pushing back and moved slightly to break our contact, instead taking my hand and guiding it around her body, squeezing it closed upon her breast and then gently rubbing it against her hardened nubs, an action that caused her own breath to falter.

“Let your hand roam wherever it may.” Jemi whispered as she removed her hand from mine.

I closed my eyes and nervously moved my hand to her face, my fingers gently tracing it contours, Jemi’s soft whimpers encouraging me further. I had a fond memory of my mother washing my hair, her strong fingers kneading my scalp as she did so and I found my hand in Jemi’s hair, gently at first and then more vigorously massaging her scalp.

“Oh that feels wonderful, don’t stop.” I didn’t and found Jemi’s body again pushing back into me as she oohed and aahed. I kept my own body still and continued to explore hers.

My hand moved down her arm, my finger tips gently caressing the soft bare skin, causing Jemi to giggle. “You may look like a brute but you’re very gentle really.” She said lightheartedly. I took this in good humour and continued my wanderings, letting my calloused hand slip onto her bare bottom, eliciting moans from Jemi, moans that were amplified when I finally gave into temptation and kissed her neck.

“Keep kissing my neck and slap my bottom.”

My mother had brought me up to respect women and had me swear that I would never hit one, unlike many of the brutes in my neighbourhood. Sensing my confusion and hesitancy Jemi turned her head and smiled at me.

“My friend, Imogen Farquar, recently got married, she says any time her husband thinks she’s been naughty he puts her over his knee and gives her a good spanking. Now she tries to be naughty at least twice a day.” She said this with such an impish look on her face that I couldn’t help but smile and gave her delectable bottom a little tap of my hand.

“Oh come on mister stoker, you can do better than that.”

“Yes ma’am, whatever you say ma’am.” Jemi started to say something but was interrupted as my palm landed with more force, “Ooh that’s better, keep going.” She said as she turned her face away and bent her knees higher.

I larruped Jemi’s arse five or six times, she encouraging me to go harder with each one, the small boat starting to rock as I delivered the last one. Jemi’s hand came over and I was pleased she was going to stop me, instead she felt around for my tallywacker, her small hand struggling to encircle it as she started to pull and squeeze it.

“Keep spanking.” She told me.

Each thwack of my hand was met with a harder pull and squeeze; the sensation of this and Jemi’s increasingly vulgar encouragements making me lose my mind, my kisses on her neck becoming more vigorous and almost violent as my smacks got harder. I was in a delirious state as my loins exploded, I could no longer spank Jemi, I wasn’t even sure I could breath.

Jemi’s hand moved gently up my shaft, coating her fingers with the last vestiges of my seed. She let go and turned around, her smiling face only inches from mine in the bright moonlight. I went to speak but was stunned and not a little horrified when Jemi held a sticky, salty finger to my lip. Her smile widened at my shock, a shock amplified many fold when Jemi started to suck and lick her fingers.

“It tastes saltier than mine.” My face must have been a picture because Jemi burst out laughing “Oh Davy you really are so sweet, I could love you.” Before I could even think what this meant Jemi gently kissed me, thoughts of sticky fingers temporarily leaving my head until she broke the kiss and took my hand and moved it towards her lady bits, “Feel my cunny, I was diddling myself as you thrashed me and gushed twice.” I pulled my hand away.

“Do you enjoy shocking and embarrassing me?” I asked.

“Yes and no.” Jemi said smiling but then continued “we could die tomorrow or the next day or starve to death the day after that, why shouldn’t we enjoy each other’s bodies before we do?”

“Because the things we’ve been doing should only be done between a man and wife and some of the things you’ve been doing would not be done by anyone respectable.”

I was shocked at my own words, but was glad I’d said them.

“Davy if I could I would marry you at this very moment.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not, I’m serious.”

I didn’t answer, finally realizing that I was stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean with an insane woman.

“I don’t know about god but I do know about the church and the clergy that tell us about sins of the flesh, many of the clergy are the biggest sinners amongst us.” I stayed silent but knew that I’d heard many men on the river saying the same thing.

“Why can our bodies do such things? Why does it feel so wonderful when we do? Surely humans are designed to enjoy sex in whichever way they want?”

I couldn’t think of any answers to Jemi’s words but still thought she was insane.

“I know that I have a high spirit and enjoy doing the things society tells me I mustn’t, but that’s not because I am bad but rather because I am free and should be allowed to make up my own mind. All the men I have ever been introduced to have been vain, shallow or stupid, sometimes all three.”

“In a different situation we may never have met or if we did we would not have spoken but you are different from them, we are stuck on this little boat but you are sweetest, most sincere man I have ever met. I also sense a wild free spirit inside you longing to get out.”

Any doubts I had about Jemi’s sincerity disappeared as she kissed me, a soft, gentle, loving kiss. We moulded together as Jemi nuzzled her head into my chest and placed her leg across me, causing me to harden and grow and causing Jemi to giggle.

“I love you and I love your tallywacker.” She said before falling asleep.

I awoke to the early morning sun and to Jemi sitting upright and smiling down at me, “Is it always that engorged in the mornings?” She asked, her eyes roving down my body and her smile widening, the mischievous glint back in her eye.

“Sometimes.”

“I’ve been staring at it for ages, it twitches and moves and you sometimes touch it in your sleep.”

She placed her hand to my forehead and laughed, “Good, no fever. Your face is so red I wondered.”

I went to sit up but Jemi gently pushed me back down, “Lay still, I want to study it awhile.”

I could have refused and insisted that we got busy with the sail but I was getting use to Jemi and knew there was no point. “My friend Imogen says her husband’s is short and fat, with a rather musty, unpleasant smell.” “Yours appears to be long and fat and I could detect no unpleasant smells.” Seeing my puzzled look, Jemi said, “I smelt it whilst you were asleep. Actually it was quite fascinating, I blew on it and it twitched. The bulbous gland at the top appears to be the most sensitive, the thick shaft less so.”

Laying there listening to my beautiful angel ruminate about my appendage was exhilarating and highly arousing and I knew that I wished it always to be so, I also knew that we needed to get sailing if we were to have any chance of survival.

“I think we should hoist our sail.”

“You’re probably right.” Jemi went quiet and I think I detected a new glow to her cheeks. “Imogen says that when her husband emits semen in the morning he is far more productive and it assuages any foul humour he may have.” “Would you like to emit some semen?”

I nodded, unable to refuse. “Teach me how, so I would know how best to do it.” Jemi said.

I wanted to ask what else Imogen had said but daren’t, instead telling Jemi that I just wrapped my fingers around it and pulled, “Like you did last night.” She thought about this for a while before asking, “Do you think of things when you do it?”

“Sometimes, last night was the first time anyone else has ever done it for me and I didn’t need to think of anything.”

“I like the name tallywacker but for the purposes of my studies I will think of it as a penis, when you make love to me it can be your tallywacker.”

Before I could respond to this Jemi took my penis in her hand, “It is heavier than I imagined, maybe more than a pound, there is already fluid leaking out the top.” Jemi ran a finger of the other hand across the fluid, the sensation causing my penis to twitch violently and me to take a sharp breath in. “Was that painful?” Jemi asked. “No, just sensitive.” Jemi nodded as if storing this information away, she then brought her fingers to her face “A slight smell of ammonia and mildly salty flavor.”

I was enjoying Jemi’s hand on my penis but I wasn’t sure if I enjoyed being part of an experiment. She suddenly started shaking it violently, “The muscle tries to resist and the penis becomes harder, tell me, does that feel nice?”

“Slightly uncomfortable but not unpleasant.” Jemi nodded and then started slapping my penis hard against her open palm, until it became too rigid to maneuver. I told her it was remarkably enjoyable.

“Do you think you could ejaculate from it?”

“I don’t think so.” She again nodded and placed her palm on top and pushed down hard, causing me to yelp.

She looked at me, a wry smile and a shake of my head gave her the answer. “Can we get to the emitting of semen before I fall into foul humour.” Jemi smiled at my light mockery and started to gently stroke my penis.

“You’re no good Davy Arthur. When we get to dry land I shall have to find other penis’s to experiment on.” She let me stew on this for a moment, a serious expression on her face. As hurt and confusion invaded my heart she finally smiled “But this is the only tallywacker I ever want.”

I closed my eyes and smiled as the feeling of Jemi’s firm, even strokes pulsed through me. The sensation became different, much warmer, softer and smoother. A small gasp of pleasure escaped my lips and I opened my eyes to the shocking sight of Jemi’s mouth engulfing my penis, her eyes alight with fire as she stared at me. She removed her mouth and sat upright, her hard nubs clearly visible through her chemise.

“Let me guess, Imogen.”

“Indeed, she said the skin becomes too dry and irritates, duck fat is too messy so one has to come up with other solutions.” The whole time Jemi was talking her fingers were making little circles on my glands, massaging her saliva in and causing my breath to shorten and my sack to tighten.

“She must write you a lot of letters.”

“Every night; once she has worn her rotter of a husband out. Imogen and I attended Miss Rogers finishing school for young ladies together, finishing school for well to do young wenches more like. There were no men of course but everyone was very daring, Imogen being the most daring of all.

She married Viscount Fornsby one year ago, he’s fifteen years older than her and a complete deviant, not that Imogen is complaining, I think she finally met her match.”

“What other things has she written about?” Jemi smirked before tapping the side of her nose, understanding what I really wanted to know. Before answering she put more spittle onto her hand and resumed her gentle stroking.

With a playful little upturn on her lips Jemi continued “I can’t tell you more of her letters, you would be too shocked and your heart may well stop.”

I couldn’t hide my disappointment, causing Jemi to laugh, “Are all men so obvious?”

Jemi’s hand was moving slowly, eliciting a pleasant, almost comforting feeling. Her thoughts seemed far away, eventually she said.

“My mother died when I was quite young and my father employed a wonderful, elderly governess called Miss Gwendolyn Sharp, or Gweny as I affectionately called her. Gweny had been a governess her whole life and had some rather unconventional views on education. She believed that the female brain was equal too, and most probably superior too, that of the male. ‘In my experience young ladies brains are like sponges whilst young gentlemen’s brains are like rocks’ was one of her favourite sayings.”

“Gweny railed against the position of women in our society, installing in me a feisty, questioning, free spirit. As she got older and became frailer she implored me to live my life to the full and to welcome and relish new experiences. She died shortly after my eighteenth birthday and I felt her passing greatly.”

Jemi had never stopped frigging my shaft throughout her story and the painful look of sorrow on her face changed to one of mirth as she said “More spittle needed I fear.”

“I thought Gweny had taught me everything but Imogen has certainly widened my horizons.”

“Gweny taught you how to have an open mind. Who taught you how to use your hand so well?”

“I’m learning as I go and by the twitching of your tallywacker I think I’m doing a good job.”

She was right she was doing a good job and I could feel my explosion building, but I wanted to hear more of Imogen.

“What’s the most shocking thing Imogen has ever told you?”

Jemi pretended to be coy but was obviously bursting to tell me “Two days before we sailed I received a letter that even by Imogen’s standards was shocking. Her husband had taken her to one of the barns and waiting for them there were a four of his gambling associates and two of the servants, both around Imogen’s age. He had made them strip and begin to procreate as they all watched.

Imogen said it was actually quite boring, the only interesting thing being that the male servant was a horse of a man and Imogen was quite fascinated that the female accommodated him so easily. She said the female looked quite bored but the male soon built up a head of steam, fully encouraged by the lewd remarks of the assembled gentleman. Her husband stopped him before he shot his seed, telling him to pull out and asking Imogen if she would like to partake of his horse appendage.

Imogen pretended to be shocked, and as excited as she was by all the eyes on her, she also found the salivating men gross and had no wish for them to view her lady bits. She stood up, but rather than go to the horse man she knelt between the females legs and much to the shock of the assembled men she performed cunnilingus on her, soon making her tremble and gasp.”

I felt Jemi squeeze the base of my penis as hard as she could “I have no wish for you to ejaculate until I’m ready for you to do so, Imogen said applying pressure here stems the flow and reduces the urge. Does it work?”

I had to admit that it did indeed work. Jemi was pleased by this and repositioned herself in the boat, lying top to toe beside me, spreading her legs and inviting me to watch as she began to diddle her cunny.

“Oh it’s very wet, here Davey feel.” Unlike the evening before I had no hesitation, allowing Jemi to guide my hand as I put one and then two fingers inside her, the warmth and silky softness feeling amazing.

“I’ll never finish my story if you keep that up.” Jemi said with a small giggle as she removed my hand and placed it on my own rod, encouraging me to stroke slowly so as not to finish until she said so.

“Now where was I with my story?” Jemi said, her own breath shortening as she continued to tease herself. “I know. When Imogen had finished her oral ministrations she knelt up and kissed the female, much to the grunts and groans of the assembled men who to a man had their todgers out and in their hands. She said the female whispered into her ear that she had a very educated tongue, Imogen was delighted with this and said she had her best friend Jemima Fairweather to thank for that.”

I looked up, shocked at this. Jemi had a glow about her and said that was a whole, very different story that she might tell me about one day. With a coy smile she continued with her story of the servants. “When her husband and his pals left for their club that evening Imogen met up with the servants again, their names were Thomas and Sarah and they were a married couple. Her husband had employed them only a few days previously and they themselves said they came very highly recommended, not so much for their silver service skills as their willingness to entertain both the men and women of the house. ‘Tom has serviced many a lady but that’s the first time the lady of the house has ever serviced me’ Sarah told her ‘in fact as well as feeling amazing you saved me a lot of hard work, if those dirty buggers hadn’t spilt their seed watching you then I would have had to drain it out of them.’

Sarah then kissed Imogen which Imogen said made her knees weak, Imogen then went and fetched her husband’s best port and the three of them got jolly drunk before Thomas and Sarah invited her into their bed, Imogen insisting they went to her bed as it was bigger and more comfortable.

Imogen found them an absolute hoot and after they finished the port they got down to business, as it were. She said they were initially very gentle, both of them undressing her until she was fully naked, the two of them standing back and admiring her. She said she had never felt so exposed or so excited. Sarah then moved closer and asked her what she wanted to do ‘Everything, I want to do everything’ Imogen told them.”