The Sailboat

Youth, Beauty, a nicely sculpted body and a disarming smile are the necessary ingredients to ensure a comparatively easy and enjoyable life. Eighteen-year-old Joey Griffin had it all and then some. Although he knew how blessed he'd been, he remained a delightful, modest and fun-loving guy who'd do anything you'd ask of him. Secretly, I was hopelessly in love with him.

I had already shot many images of Joey lowering the sail, but I kept shooting, hoping for the ultimate masterpiece. I wished I had an oil painting of him at that fleeting moment. Beautifully tanned, he wore shear, silk, flowered shorts, through which his jewels were provocatively visible; I loved watching him in those shorts. As usual, the single tuft of gelled, dark hair, lay on his forehead. Big, brown, bedroom eyes sparkled and his teeth gleamed brilliantly, when the billowing, white sailcloth's reflected sunlight, softly, illuminated his near-perfect, facial features. In my viewfinder, I saw a handsome angel.

Joey wasn't aware that I adored ever bone and muscle in his body, and that I had always been madly in love with him. We grew up together and had always been as close as brothers. And It was because of our long, close friendship that we confidently put ourselves in hock to buy the thirty-two foot sailboat. We knew absolutely nothing about sailing and were so spoiled by the motor that we "set sail" on our first dozen outings without learning how to put up them up.

"You know, Don, we're a couple of loose bolts...ya know that, huh?" Joey asked. It, having been a hypothetical question, he didn't expect an answer. "Have you got any idea how much we been spendin' on gas?" Another hypothetical, as far as I was concerned. "Well, all I know is that it's dough we shouldn't be spendin'. The motor is only supposed to be used when yer leaving or entering the marina. Otherwise, with the sails up, ya don't have the necessary control. Like if there was a sudden gust of wind, we could wipe out the dock, not to mention our boat," he explained with newly found authority.

"Yer gonna make a very important suggestion, aren't ya, captain, or will it be an order?" I laughed because I didn't want him to think I was annoyed.

"I think we should get ourselves to some secluded spot where we won't embarrass the crap out of ourselves, and set our sails."

"I knew it'd eventually come to this," I remarked. "And just how much do we know about doing that?" He really didn't care for my skeptical smile.

"I brought a book that explains everything. It looks simple," he said, trying to convince me and himself that we could do it. "I wonder if we bought too much boat for us, Don, this pile of cloth, ropes and crap looks formidable."

"Let's hang up the main one first, Joey, if we can get that one up we'll be encouraged," I suggested.

"I think the correct terminology is hoist, not hang," he corrected. "Oh, shit!" He said, wide eyed as he looked toward the sky. "We've gotta climb the friggin' pole to put a rope over that pulley wheel." We messed with all that grief for more than six hours, nearly garroting ourselves in the tangle of ropes. Joey was knocked overboard twice, when a gust swung the jib, I think that's what he called it, and bashed him into the lake. I couldn't help laughing, of course, and that got him even more pissed off. I loved the image, though, and wished I'd had the camera in my hand. His shear, wet silk shorts had become all but transparent. The way they clung to his butt crack was fabulously delish; he might just as well have been naked. "Son of a bitch." He screamed at the runaway jib.

And so, we finally sailed off into the sunset with numerous electronic aids about which we knew frig all. We soon learned that the bell meant we we're going aground. It was difficult to enjoy the ride with concentrating on the damned bell. The art of sailing was going to elude us for some time, I feared. "Hey, Donnie, I think I'm gettin' the hang of it," he said, with a big, satisfied grin. Still, it was a relief when we'd dropped the sails to, again, hear the familiar, comforting sound of the engine.

"Congratulations, captain," I said, facetiously, "Now, do you have any idea how we wrap up the sails?"

"Wait'll we dock, we can check out some of the others. Don't worry, we'll learn soon enough." And thankfully we did become reasonably competent.

The thirty-two foot sailboat had cost us a bundle but we rationalized that we'd probably be able to get our money back if we decided to sell it. And we'd save a pile of dough on motel rooms. We'd be able to stay on the boat for as long as we wanted, assuming there was food. Although she could sleep six, we would likely never need more than two bunks.

I was very fortunate to be so close to Joey and bask in his reflected glory. He had girls falling all over him- and very often boys, as well. I always felt particularly good when guys cruised him and asked if he'd like a blow-job. If a girl wanted him, she'd have to agree to a threesome, or arrange for a friend to go with me.

The boat was a dream come true. Having dropped the anchor, there was only the glorious sound of the Lake Champlain waves licking at the boat, punctuated by the music of one or more of us in the throes of an orgasm. I enjoyed the many occasions when I was able to watch Joey at his hottest. One time, when we shared a girl, I was watching him from behind. He was on his knees and for the longest time I watched his cock, pumping her pussy; that scene was priceless. I had perfected the art of recognizing the sounds he made when he was getting close, and often I was able to time our orgasms to crest in unison.

He was becoming quite a sailor, buying books, searching the Internet and going to boat shows. We seemed to be getting along very well. Hardly anyone at the marina laughed at us anymore. We were becoming so proficient - Joey, anyway - that he decided we should sail to St. Albans. It was about thirty miles- I didn't know the equivalent in knots. I was very excited by the idea of actually sailing somewhere.

"Have Ya got the bunk warmers, yet." I asked.

"No, I thought we could go by ourselves and pick up a couple of bimbos in St. Albans, how about it?"

"Ah, don't ya think it would be a little far for us?" I questioned.

"I don't think so, what d'ya think could go wrong?"

"I don't know...I was just thinking we don't have all that much experience, especially for a trip so far. Besides, Joey, you'd get bored. Ya'd have a shit fit...ya know, like, just us together in that small space for that long." It was a very difficult think for me to say but I desperately wanted to kill the idea.

"What's wrong with you, all of a sudden? You think you'd get bored with me, is that what yer tryna say?" I couldn't ever remember Joey getting so annoyed, especially because of anything I'd done. I wanted to go, in the worst way. But I was afraid. I was terrified, in fact, wondering if I'd be able to control myself. We'd be at anchor much of the time and we'd surely be drinking. I could just imagine undressing for bed; just the two of us bombed out our mind and naked in that little cabin. No way, I thought, I wouldn't be able to endure the mental torture. I've got to think of some way to get out of it without hurting his feelings. Damn! Why does it have to be like this.

"Oh, Joey, you know goddam well I'd never get bored with ya. I was thinking you might get bored. That would be uncomfortable for both of us." I lied. But there are times when a tiny lie is the only way to go.

"Ok, then, it's all settled, good." What was I to do. I couldn't live without him. He was the most important person in my life. Well, I decided, I'd have to go and suffer the consequences of my weakness.

"When do you want to leave?" I asked apprehensively.

"Tonight." He quickly replied. "Right after dinner."

"Ok," I said, hoping I hadn't sounded unenthusiastic. I couldn't imagine why Joey was so horny to get to St. Albans. If I drank enough I'd pass out, I thought, and maybe I could get through the trip; that was all I could think of. I went down to the galley to build a couple of sandwiches to bring up on deck, when I met Joey on the stairs.

"The wind has picked up quite a bit, Donnie, and the waves are much higher than we're used to."

"What ya think we should do?" I asked anxiously.

"We're almost at South Hero Island...I checked the charts and there's a bay. We'd should be safe in there." His concern was obvious.

Ok, Joey, whatever you say." It was about thirty minutes later when we dropped the anchor. We had already lowered the sails. The waves were higher than we'd ever seen them- lake Champlain resembled the Atlantic Ocean. "Ya know what Joey, I'm goddam scared."

"Relax. Were safe, here. Why don't you pour a couple of stiff ones, buddy, might as well start the party now," he said, laughing. We drank and ate the sandwiches and drank some more.

"This is great, Don, ya know, like, being together like this...I'm feeling so good, like ya wouldn't believe."

"Me, too, I lied, I don't think I'm gonna last too long. What with the excitement and the drinks I can hardly keep my eyes open."

"Frig you, ol' buddy, we're havin' another drink." This was something I hadn't expected. He was almost bombed. If he got undressed and into his bunk, leaving me here, awake, my problem could be worse than I could've imagined.

"Hey, don't leave me here alone," Joey wailed, "let's both have another. If this fucker's gonna roll over, I think I'd prefer to be sloshed." We both laughed but I wasn't sure why.

I awakened shortly thereafter with my head spinning like crazy, but I fell asleep again. It was a strange but beautiful dream. I was being rocked as I'd been as a little child. It was very comforting. the picture blurred, momentarily, to refocus on a pleasant feeling I had of my stomach being lightly massaged. I remembered my sounds of pleasure that became loud enough that woke myself. I remained still, imagining I felt heat from a nearby body. When the drunken fog had finally dissipated, I realized Joey was in the bunk with me and it was his hand that was holding my cock. "Donnie, are you awake?" He asked, whispering softly, while he continuing to tug on my foreskin.

"Yes, Joey," I finally replied, trying to not show my excitement.

"I'm so sorry, Donnie, I, I couldn't stop myself...it's been drivin' me nuts... ya think ya could let me blow you, Donnie?...You can pound my head after, if ya want, but just let me suck ya, first. okay?"

"Sure, go ahead, Joey, don't worry about it, everything is gonna be fine, buddy." I placed my hand gently on the back of his head and urged him onto my cock. The feeling was sublime. Hungrily, he took me deeply into his throat; it felt heavenly. I was already on the edge when he pressed a finger against my hole, but it was when he licked the length of my shaft to swirl his tongue round my knob that I had to tell him, "Joey, I'm gonna cum." The thought that a part of me was inside of Joey Griffin just about blew my mind. It truly was a case of the utterly impossible dream, coming true.

"I'm sorry, Donnie...I feel like I fuckin' well wanna die -."

"Trust me Joey," I butted in, "I could very easily have done the same thing; I'm glad you wanted me. My arms encircled the incredibly beautiful body that, for such a long time, I'd craved. Frantically, we fought to get a tongue into each other's mouth. I felt so happy and proud when I detected the lingering odor of my cum. Contented, we rolled over on our side and, fitting together like a pair of spoons, waited to finally fall sleep.

Nibbling the back of Joey's neck, while holding onto his treasures, I couldn't stop wondering if it had all really happened. I thought the happiness I felt, at that moment, was the ultimate; but I knew that wasn't so, when he whispered, "Donnie, I've never felt as much happiness as I do, right now."