When Roger takes a job crewing on a private sailboat he finds that dealing with the couple who own it is more of a challenge than the sailing. She's hot and looking for fun. He's getting absorbed in his work. Roger doesn't mind taking up the slack and giving her the hot and hard sex she's looking for at sea. And ashore, well the locals provide plenty of other smoking hot people for them to party with. The more tense things get on board, the wilder the action.
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I suppose there was more to their disagreements than sailing. After all, they were there to repair old problems and some of them must have re-emerged. Just one week into the trip, Bart was no longer focusing entirely on Janet. His head, if not his body, had already ended his vacation.
"I need to check in with the office," he told Janet one night. She didn't seemed thrilled but she got a drink and went to sit on the bow while he made a phone call, got agitated, and made more calls. By the time he went to bed, he wasn't having fun and from then on, he was fixated on that telephone. Now, as soon as we anchored, he was grabbing his cell phone instead of Janet, and making calls. He would grab a bottle of booze and a bucket of ice and settle into the cockpit talking on the phone about some kind of construction shit with people who were probably on conference calls at the other end. This would go on for an hour or two. Janet yelled at him that she didn't like to sit around listening to him talk business and went to the cabin. I figured that her choice of places to sulk wouldn't help her temper any. It was stinky hot below decks in some of those windless bays. I didn't want to listen either, so I dove over the side and took a swim.
One night I got a surprise. From the deck I could see that the anchor was dug into beautiful white sand in about twenty feet of water. I dove in from the bow, going deep down for a close look. It was gorgeous in the late afternoon sun and fish were already planning to develop the anchor as a reef.
As I came up from the bottom, I saw Janet coming down. Her soft yellow bikini blended with her skin in the shadows of the hull and I happily imagined her swimming naked next to me. When I surfaced, I started swimming around the boat, just for the exercise. She joined me, giving me a friendly, almost conspiratorial smile as she swam alongside. Neither of us said a word and I happily, if wistfully watched her graceful body glide through the water. We swam until the sounds of Bart's phone call stopped. Then we climbed onto the swim platform at the stern, rinsed off with fresh water, and went up the ladder to towel ourselves dry on the stern. Then we fixed dinner.