Another Tow Path Story

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

All email comments good or critical welcomed. Please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read, so please take care when entering your email. Rude or abusive comments may result in blocking. Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat and the ass is a bum or arse.

The extreme cold had eased. The canal was no longer frozen and my neighbours of the previous icy few days had all moved on, I don't know where, it wasn't discussed, after all, why should it be? We are often boats that pass in the night. It was rare that we encounter people time and again. The canal network is vast and unless you live in a Marina, you have to keep moving, at least every two weeks.

I set off along the canal, Standedge was my next destination, I was supposed to be there by Friday for my scheduled run through the tunnel. It is, so I have read, the longest and deepest canal tunnel in Britain and you have to book your passage through it, and they send a pilot with you. Although I expect if you just turned up, they would find somewhere to slot you in. You could always plead ignorance of the rules.

Elsewhere there had been a terrible breach on the Bridgewater canal, a whole section of embankment had collapsed at the New Year, and the canal was now unusable, much of it gone and laying in the valley below. I had planned to go along that on my journey to the Llangollen canal to cross the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct but would now have to go south and then north. No worries, just a route change is all.

As I pulled up to the lock landing to do yet another lock on my journey, I reached across for my windlass to go and prepare the lock. Oh bugger. It wasn't there; I must have left it on the last lock. Oh, that was a nuisance. I had a spare, but that meant I would have to go and buy another one at the next chandlers or marina I passed. Oh what an annoyance. It was imperative to have at least one spare for this very reason.

I moored at the landing and as I looked back along the canal, I could see another boat coming. He wouldn't be far behind me. I went up to prepare the lock and started winding the screw to raise the paddles and empty the lock so that I could enter. As I finished and started opening the lock gates the other boat was just mooring behind mine. Sadly the lock was only big enough for one boat, so he would have to wait. It was the way it was.

Once I had finished opening the gates I grabbed my windlass and headed back to DunModdelin to cast off and enter the lock.

"Hello," a voice called from the other boat. "I think you forgot something," and he was waving a windlass at me. I walked down to him and smiled.

"Oh yes, my windlass. I only realised when I got here and went to grab it and go and prepare the lock. Luckily I have a spare, but such a nuisance, thank you."

"You are most welcome," he said as he handed me my windlass.

"When you get in, I'll do the lock for you, and then when you moor the other side, you can do it for me if you like," he said.

That would make both our lives much easier, pairing through locks just seemed to halve the work and speed up passage. It also reduced the risk, although small, of an accident at the locks if you weren't solo locking.

"Oh yes, that would be great, yes we can do that. How far are you going?"

"Standedge, I am booked in on Friday. My name is Pete by the way."

"Standedge, me too on Friday, I am Amelia. Nice to meet you, we could pair all the way to Marsden if you like."

"Yes Amelia, yes, we could, that would make life easier for us both."

I took my windlass and went back to my boat and set off for the lock, quite narrow this one, and not a lot of spare length, I hoped that Pete was a careful lock filler, I didn't want water cascading over my gunnels. I entered the lock with just inches to spare each side, and now that I had someone watching me, I was pleased that I hadn't scraped the boat on entering, go me!

Pete closed the gates behind me and then checked the paddles were closed before going to the upper gates. He gave me a thumbs up and I reciprocated, and he started opening the lower paddles and water began flooding the lock. As the water in the lock deepened and we rose up the lock walls, Pete increased the flow, and it wasn't long before I was up at the full level. Pete opened the upper gates and I motored out and moored at the upper lock landing.

I went back and closed the paddles and then opened the lower paddles. The lock soon emptied and then I opened the lower lock gates for Pete and he was soon in the lock and with the gates shut I was able to close the paddles and go up to the upper gates and slowly open the upper paddles to fill the lock.

When Pete was out, I closed the lock and the paddles and left it ready for whoever wanted it next.

"Shall we go to the next lock and repeat?" Pete called.

"Yes, I'll see you there," I called back as I prepared to cast off and follow in his wake.

The day was spent from lock to lock and soon we were at our final mooring just outside Marsden. I didn't need to use the service point, I was still okay for fuel and water, although I did go and drop off some of my rubbish in their bins. Pete was at the fuel point; I left him to it and went and put my oven on to heat a Pizza. A pizza was a good food for me as, being flat, it didn't take up a lot of space in my small freezer, so I always had one or two in. I would probably go and do a shop tomorrow as I knew there was a Lidl supermarket not far from the mooring.

After finishing my Pizza I cleared away, wiped the oven door, and washed my plate, no cutlery, I mean, who eats a pizza with cutlery? Not me. I planned to turn in early, it can be quite tiring doing locks, they are after all, a way to take a canal up or down a hill, and so you are always jumping off the boat, climbing up or going down, and it takes its toll on your legs, especially your knees. If I had a bath I would have taken a soak, but I didn't, so a hot shower and then wrapping in the duvet and watching some Netflix was the order of the evening.

In the morning, I had some cereal, finishing off my milk, and dressed in jeans and a jumper, put my thick coat on, grabbed some bags and headed off to Lidl. It was about a ten minute walk, definitely a two bag limit shop. I wandered around Lidl with a trolley, twice, the second time to put back the stuff that, on reconsideration, I didn't want or need. It was still two bags of shopping I had to carry.

I had learned over the years on the canal to try and buy stuff in bags when I went shopping rather than boxes, or in boxes rather than tins, and tins rather than glass bottles. Everything to reduce the weight I had to carry back to the boat. That was one of the reasons I went twice around the aisles, the second time was to put back a heavier item when I had found a lighter alternative further on. Aldi and Lidl had a habit of putting special offers nowhere near items of the same category, it was a bit of a chore, and the one thing that I found annoying.

After a trudge back to the boat I put the kettle on and started putting stuff away, leaving some cheese, tomatoes and a baguette out for my dinner. Lunch would be a smoked salmon wrap that I got at Lidl, it was cheap enough and saved me making something. My reward to me. Kettle whistled and I turned off the gas and prepared to make my mug of tea.

"Yoohoo," came from outside. I poked my head through the side hatch, it was Pete, my lock buddy.

"Fancy a cuppa?" he asked.

"Yes, I'll be a long in a minute," I said.

I poured my just boiled water into my thermos for later use, and checked everything was off that needed to be off, grabbed my shoes and headed to Pete's boat, locking up behind me.

Pete's boat was similar to mine, he had a bigger stern with a cover, I guess so he could cruise in the rain. If it rained I just wore a hat and my wax jacket and waterproof leggings. Inside the layout was pretty similar too, but he had no TV I noticed. Perhaps he watched on his laptop, he could just lay in bed on the cold days then. His boat was cooler than mine, perhaps he didn't have his heating on as much, or perhaps he left his hatch open. It made no mind.

"Come in, come in," he called through his open hatch, "and shut it behind you".

I went down his transom steps and pulled the hatch to behind me. His floor was solid wood in the galley but carpet in the saloon, so I left my shoes by the transom steps.

"Right then," he said, "I have Earl Gray, Breakfast or Chai tea, what do you fancy?"

"I'll have a chai please Pete."

I did quite like a chai tea, as long as it wasn't sweetened. So difficult to order when I was out because chai nearly always came sweetened.

"Milk, sugar?" He asked.

"Just milk," I answered.

"Well," he said as he handed my mug of chai, "that was a good stretch we did today. I was thinking it would take me until today lunch to get this far."

"Yes, double handling the locks, makes a huge difference. I was able to go to Lidl first thing this morning and stock up. I am not sure about the shops the other side of the tunnel, so I am okay now, especially as I don't have to find a marina and buy another windlass, thank you for that."

"My pleasure, although, I am sure that some would just think it was their lucky day and keep it, but I knew it had to be yours, so, yes, right thing to do."

"You are right, some would have kept it indeed. You know, I had some one steal my barge pole off my roof a couple of years ago, I mean, why would anyone do that? When I bought a new one to replace it, I painted my boat name on it in several places. Well, why not. I also keep it padlocked to my side rail."

"There is no accounting for folk," he said. "What about you, do you work aboard?"

"Yes, I do a little freelance work, management, but I can do it all by zoom and email, so as long as I can get a signal, I am fine. You?"

"Oh no, I sold my company a few years ago, bought my boat, spent six months tarting her up and now just live the life of a lazy leisurely man afloat. My plan is to cover all the navigable canals."

"Isn't there a gong or something for reaching the more inaccessible places?"

"There is, the Silver Propeller. There are 2 places in the broads I cannot go to as my boat is too tall for their bridges, and there is one in the Black Country where I am too tall to go through the tunnel, but apart from those three, I should be able to reach enough to get the award."

"How are you doing so far?"

"Not too bad, ten down, eleven to go, but there is no hurry. I just want to do them as I go along, I don't want to make it a chore."

"Wise. I am not doing that, I am just going where my whims take me. After Standedge I had planned to go onto the Bridgewater and go along the Llangollen to Pontcysyllte aqueduct. But, well, now I will have to go south."

"Yes, terrible business. Luckily no one was hurt and no boats lost, just some stranded. I have some salad and some salmon, would you like a light lunch?"

"Well, yes, that would be nice." I could leave my wrap in my fridge until tomorrow.

I handed him my empty mug and he went to the galley. I got up and leant across the work surface so that I could continue chatting to him. He pulled a bowl of salad that it looked like he had prepared earlier from the fridge. Either he had planned this or he had made enough for two days, I wasn't going to ask.

"Do you enjoy cooking?" I asked.

"God, no, I do it as I have to eat and I like food, so, rather than eat out all the time, I learn how to prepare decent food. I can't say that I enjoy it."

"So, means unto an end then?"

"Quite, you?"

"Well, yes I do, but not baking, that seems to require alchemy so I avoid it like the plague, but I do quite enjoy cooking for myself. If I am at a mooring for a few days, on at least one of the days I will prepare myself something special. Last week, before the big freeze, I did myself a trout en papillote with almonds, it was really quite nice. I had it with some crushed new potatoes in a parsley sauce."

"Now that sounds wonderful. Where did you get the trout?"

"There was a Waitrose nearby and they had some, so I bought myself one whole trout and a roll of cooking parchment."

"I prefer trout to salmon, I find it has a better taste and texture."

"Agreed, same here."

"But today we have salmon, so there it is."

"And I am sure it will be fine, the two cannot, nor on this occasion, should not, be compared."

"If you would like to sit at the fine dining table, I shall serve you. Sadly I have no Chablis to accompany."

"And I am sure that it shall not be missed."

I sat at the dinette table and Pete put a plate before me with salad on one side and some slices of salmon on the other. He opened a drawer and passed me a knife and fork and then tore a piece of kitchen towel. "Your napkin madam," he laughed.

He placed his own salad next to me on the dinette and sat down to join me. "Enjoy," he said and picked up his fork.

The salad had a dressing on it, a light French dressing I think, and there was a grind of pepper over the salmon, and it all worked together really well, I was impressed. The man knows how to assemble food, and there is nothing wrong with that. The salad was a cos lettuce, some sliced spring onions, a thinly sliced red onion, tomato, radish and a sliced green bell pepper. It was harmonious and went very well with the thinly sliced salmon.

After we had eaten he put the plates and cutlery in the sink in the galley.

"Let me wash, you dry because you know where stuff goes." I said, and when he began to protest I simply started running hot water into his sink. He grabbed a tea towel. When I had washed the last item, I looked around to check that there was nothing else to wash, there wasn't. Pete put the tea towel down and we both turned to face each other, it was one of those cliché moments so beloved of drama makers. We were close and our eyes met. He lent forward, so did I and we kissed.

It wasn't anything that had crossed my mind as a possibility. I certainly didn't plan it, perhaps Pete had, but I had no inkling of it.

"Gosh," he said.

"Er yes," I answered, and as the kiss had been exceedingly pleasant, I leant in for another. We moved closer together. I was conscious of my boobs squashed against his chest, and then I was more conscious of his rapidly hardening dick as it pressed against me.

I moved my hand from my side and gripped his dick through his trousers, it was a good size and felt very hard. I released his dick and worked at his belt and then his trousers button, pulling them apart. Of course they fell partially down, but apart from the comedic element it gave me unhindered access. I reached inside his underpants and pulled at his dick.

Not too big, but certainly it commanded a presence. I pushed his foreskin back and let my thumb roll over his glans, he gulped and seemed to dip momentarily, perhaps his knees briefly surrendered.

"Would you like to go to the bedroom?" He asked, "only I know I would."

"Of course." I stepped back and Pete grabbed his flagging trousers and walked through the galley to his bedroom. In his bedroom, which on a canal boat is little larger than a double bed, he turned and let his trousers fall to the floor. I undid my trousers and pulled them and my knickers down and sat on the edge of his bed to pull them completely off, letting them drop to the floor. I pulled my jumper off and undid my bra, both joining the growing pile of clothes.

I scrabbled back onto the bed and looked at Pete. Good shape, a small bulge around his tummy, a good dick and proportioned balls. His arse, as I saw when he turned to get on the bed, was nicely rounded without any flab. As I lay back Pete lay next to me and started cupping and playing with my left boob, circling my nipple with his finger before leaning forward and sucking it into mis mouth.

I closed my eyes, he could lead I decided, and as I relaxed into the bed, I felt his fingers stroking along my crease and then ease their way between my lips into my inner sanctum. I shivered, I didn't know why, just an auto response I guessed and then I gasped as his finger brushed my clitoris. He found it.

He began to execute a slow circular rub of my clitoris with the end of his fingernail as he licked my nipple inside the heat of his mouth. I was getting an intense sensation in my crotch and a warmth on my chest, the two sensations combining to ramp my pleasures up. I gasped.

I reached across and found his dick, once more rolling his foreskin down and behind the rim of his glans. I brought my hand up to my mouth and licked it, and then went back down and rubbed my wet finger over his glans, he groaned around my nipple, the vibrations of his groan adding to the tickle.

His finger left my clitoris and he slid down my valley between my labia and found my entrance, circling, dipping and then pressing, through my opening and deep inside me. I gasped and my back stiffened. I squeezed his glans and he gulped and groaned again.

His mouth left my boob, my nipple suddenly feeling cold, and he left a trail of kisses down my abdomen to my crotch. He blew on my clitoris as his finger wiggled inside me, my pressures were ramping up, and I was gasping, short breaths in, nothing out, my fingers were clutching at his bed.

He turned in the bed, his head at my crotch, his crotch at my head. I had a good close up of his dick. As dicks go it was nice, not too big, longer than my palm, and my fingers didn't quite meet when I held it. The rim of his glans was quite pronounced and helped trap his foreskin behind, his dick was veiny, and his balls very wrinkled and seemingly hung quite a way below his dick, hanging down more than my limited experience had seen.

His glans was a purple stroke aubergine colour, his dick skin slightly darker than the rest of his skin, a trait I had seen a few times, I didn't know why that should be. I guessed it made no difference to performance, only to aesthetics for those who cared about such things. I didn't care.

I licked around the edge of his glans, his dick shaking as my tongue moved, his mouth further down was gasping, I smiled and sucked his dick into my mouth. I slid along his dick, his glans just passing my tonsils and into my throat stopping my breath. I eased my mouth back and then began a gentle shag with my mouth, his dick sliding along my tongue and into my throat, all the time being assailed by the pleasures he was administering in my crotch.

I was gasping as the pleasures in my groin were washing through me in waves, each causing me to gasp, each gasp causing me to rub my tongue on his dick, each rub of my tongue causing him to gasp. We were in a repeating cycle of pleasures. His finger left me, my fanny feeling empty, only to re-enter with a sibling, two fingers now played inside me, sometimes moving together, sometimes apart, the pleasures were so much that I could not always tell which, I just gasped.

His tongue was playing on my nubbin, pressing, licking, pushing, teasing, all the time his two fingers stretched and cajoled inside me. My pressures were growing, my gasps increasing and my tensions near breaking. Pete was feeling it too, he began to hump my mouth, shagging me as I was shagging him, his fingers began to work together, sliding in and sliding out, shagging me as if they were his dick.

I pulled back, easing his dick out of my mouth, and pulling his head from my fanny. I pulled him up to me and as he rolled and lay on his back I kissed him, my tongue pressing past his lips as I straddled him and reached down for his dick. I held his dick and wiped it along my fanny valley, his foreskin rolled forward to once again hide his glans.