sylvia 117

Sylvia 117

Tuesday morning bright and early, I immediately dressed for my morning run.  I  had room in the fleece pants for only the box opener for self protection.  I probably should have carried the stun gun as well, but it was bulky. It Was also uncomfortable, as it bumped against me in the loose jogging suit.

The hour passed slowly because my hand hurt.  I had taken my pills first thing and they should have kicked in, but my hand still hurt.  Probably the running raised the pressure of the blood throbbing through it.  Regardless I was thrilled when the run was finished and I could return to the motel.  I took a shower with the bandage off.  I was glad to find the swelling appeared to be going down, but I wished I hadn’t been so stupid.  I should have just let them go and gotten a description of the robber’s car.

I might give it more thought next time.  Then again maybe not, I hadn’t thought at all the last time.  I tended to just acted without thought.  And that hadn’t worked out to well, it had gotten me shot twice and last time it set back my healing  On the plus side it also got me some great sex.  Too much thought could be a downer, I decided.  Not enough thought could get also get me killed, I conceded.  There had to be a compromise somewhere.  Maybe next time I would find it.

I went to the cafe by the river for breakfast.  It was good but not nearly as good as the breakfast restaurant out on the highway.  So I supposed I would be driving to the highway service road the next couple of days.  At least for breakfast.

There was also a nice steakhouse in the parking lot of the Embassy.  After my last experience with steak, I decided to pass on the steak.  The mother of the college boy hadn’t come to work.  It was obvious she worked the lunch and dinner shifts.

After breakfast I drove the block to the docks and found a fisherman who hadn’t left.  The men were storing ice in the hold of a tug boat looking craft.  The ice from a covered pick up truck with an air conditioner compressor on top.  “You the captain?” I asked the man who was supervising the ice loading.

“Over there,” he point to a stooped man checking the lines holding the vessel to the dock.

“Captain, I would love to be a part of your crew today.  I work for free, but I only have one good hand at the moment. I won’t be much help with the nets, but I promise I will stay out of the way.”

“You might be of some help, and if it’s free, I will take it.  Tell you what you heat the coffee and make sandwiches with what we have on board, and we will call it even for your fishing boat experience.  Sometimes we don’t get time to eat.” he explained.

“I can do that and keep the coffee going as well,” I said.

“Fair enough, there is a life preserver on a hook in the wall of the wheel house use it,” he demanded.

“Aye aye Captain,” I said stepping on to the boat and entering the wheel house.  I pulled the oily, old preserver on over my light weight parka.

We sailed out and I spent the first hour puking over the side.  Then I got all the food out of my stomach and drank some coffee.  I even managed to carry the captain a cup.  The two deck hands as well.  I watched as they put out the net and trolled for an hour then pulled it in.  There were a lot of fish that were thrown in the hold ,nothing went back into the ocean.  I had no idea why but it didn’t matter.  I began to enjoy the experience.  It was noon when I went back to the galley.  I made and heated some cold cut sandwiches in the oven.  I intentionally did not make one for me.

I walked to the wheel house. “Captain how do you want me to serve the sandwiches I made?”

“The crew will come to the galley, one at a time to eat.  You can bring mine up here.”  So thats what I did.  It was after two when I got things cleaned up.  It would have gone faster, if I could have used two hands.  For the rest of the after noon I watched the crew pull in the net.  They didn’t have much time to talk. While the boat trolled there were a few minutes when they rester.

“So why the hell are you here,” one of the older men asked.

“I just wanted to see what it was really like on a fishing boat.” I replied.

“So what you think,” he asked.

“It smells worse than I thought.  Actually I never even considered that,” I said.

“After a while you don’t even notice the smell.  It’s like, do you notice how you smell when you are ripe?” the younger one asked.

“I always notice, and no I’m not turned on now,” I said with a laugh.  “Just so you know.”

“Well you are a damn good sport.  You want to go for a drink when we dock,” the young one asked.

“No thanks, I’m going for a hot shower and a good dinner seated at a table that doesn’t go up and down.” I replied.

“Well, we had a good day,” the captain said a couple of hours later.  “The hold is full, so we are going on in.”  It was only about 4PM.

“So how late would you stay out, if you didn’t have the hold full?” I asked.

“We go in by six, if we don’t, the ice in the hold melts.  We have a small pump to pump the hold dry but the fish spoil soon after it is all gone.  Today we are lucky but we will still have to pump out the hold once we unload the fish.”  The Captain explained.

“So why don’t you fish for lobster, I thought everyone in Maine with a boat tried lobster fishing,” I said.

“I started on a lobster boat, but I didn’t like it much.  It’s one of those either you make it or you starve.  Fishing for the cat food plant is much better.  We throw nothing back.  It all pays the same.  We don’t have to sort or grade the fish.  We just dump them in the small truck with the reefer and run them to the plant a few miles up the road.” he explained.

“Sounds like good steady money,” I said.

“Yeah the big plants use giant trawlers, but the plant here is too small.  They make a real gourmet cat food, according to them.  I don’t know how a cat food can be gourmet,” he said.

“Well maybe when I retire, I will came back and buy one of these boats,” I said laughing.

“You do that.  I might be ready to retire by then myself,” he informed me.  “We aren’t through though how about a hand moving the fish to the truck.  The older man used what looking like a snow shovel to dump the fish into a plastic box.  It weight about thirty pounds but I managed a few of them.

“So, am I finished now skipper?” I asked.

“Yeah Gilligan you can go, and thanks,” he said and he looked like he meant it.  “Come back any time.”

“I just might do that,” I said

I got back to the motel in time to choke down the twelve hour OTC pain meds,  If I had been home I would have taken them at eight hours.”  My hand was throbbing from carrying the plastic boxes of fish.

After my shower it was almost 6PM.  I wanted to see the young boy’s waitress mama.  I wanted to see, if she knew anything.  It didn’t really make any difference, but it would be nice to leave the area without leaving hard feeling behind.

I found my self back in the waterfront cafe.  My stomach had calmed to the point that I was actually hungry.  Jamie’s mother was indeed working.  I sat in her section, so I could evaluate her level of concern.

“You left early last night.  The boy’s left a couple of hours later.  Did you see them again?” she asked me.

I expected her to ask me.  So I did what any older woman with a very young man would do, I lied.

“No, were they looking for me?” asked to answer her.

“No, I was just wondering that Bruce is a dog.  He even hits on me,” she said.

“Well I can understand that, you are an attractive woman,” I said smiling.

“He says I’m sexy,” she laughed.  “I’m not doing anything but it is flattering.

“I can imagine it is.  Hell I would be flattered, if my son said I was sexy,” I said.  “Not that I have a son.”

“Well I guess that is true as well,” she admitted seeming to take it in stride.  “So what will you have.”

“How about the half pound hamburger but don’t bother with the roll just put it on the plate.” I said.

“How about garlic bread instead of the roll?” she asked.

“Sure why not,” I replied.  The food came in a reasonable amount of time and it was good.  I left the waitress, who happened to be the mother of the kid I screwed, a nice tip.  I was secretly glad he didn’t kiss and tell.

I went back to the motel and found Jamie waiting for me.  “I came earlier but you were gone,” he said.

“I spent the day on a cat food fishing boat.” I explained.  He didn’t even change expressions so I guess it was an accepted way to make a living.

“Could I come inside.  I just want to talk honest,” he pleaded.

“Okay sure, but you are going to keep it in your pants,” I said.

“Sure no problem,” he said.  I didn’t figure either of us meant it.

When we were inside I gave him the ice bucket and told him where the ice machine was.  When he came back I fill two plastic cups and split a canned coke between them.  “Now what do you want to talk about?” I asked.

“It’s my mom,” he said.  I wanted to say I don’t care but I remained quiet.  “Did you hear Bruce ask, if I was fucking her?”

I nodded my head but remained silent.  “I’m not really doing that.  She bad a guy at the house last year.  I got up to go to the bathroom and saw her.  She was naked and on her knees in front of this guy.  He was holding her head and moving his dick in and out of her mouth.  I watched till he came in her mouth.”

“Oh how did you feel about that?” I asked.  I didn’t want to risk saying, oh how awful it must have been, if turned him on.  Not did I want to say hot, if he had been revolted by it.  So I just nodded and kept quiet.  She didn’t see me, but the man who was with her did.  I knew him of course it’s really a small town.”

“So how did  you feel about it?” I asked.

“It was like a porno flick, except it was my mother instead of some hot teenager,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“I went back to my room and jacked off.  I have never looked at my mother in the same since.  I don’t think of her as mom but as some sexy older woman living with me. I swear sometimes she looks at me funny.  I think she knows and wants to talk about it, but what if I’m wrong?” he asked.

“Well I can’t advise you.  But you can’t always tell what a look means, especially family.


About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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2 Responses to sylvia 117

  1. jack says:

    All fishing boats flat out stink, but i guess they do get used to it. ,, I think at some time all boys thing mom is hot.

  2. cindypress says:

    fishing boats in Florida really stink.

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