Assisting Mrs Davenport

The story below is one of fiction, from a fantasy which has rattled around my mind for several years. If she reads this, she will know.

If you are under the age of eighteen, or if you are offended by an account of sexual activity you should read no more on this page. If, however, you believe the mind is the greatest sex organ, and you believe in the First Amendment to our constitution, then please read on.

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I have lived in the area of Atlanta for the past ten years, ever since I graduated from high school and left Daytona Beach to attend the University of Georgia. I get home only occasionally, and when I do I always try to spend some time fishing on the Halifax River where it empties into the Atlantic at Ponce de Leon Inlet. A close friend who lives there on the river keeps a 16 foot boat and forty horsepower outboard, and I am welcome to use it when I'm in town.

On the occasion of my tenth high school reunion, I had arrived in Daytona a few days early, and had immediately gone down to the dock and put my fishing gear into the boat. My friend, a local motel owner, was not home and I left a note telling him I had the water craft, and would return about dark.

As usual, I found the tank full of gas, and as I cruised south toward the inlet, my mind filled with memories of my youth and school days. The day was bright, and the morning sun was half way to its zenith when I neared the area north of the inlet where I intended to try for saltwater trout in the deep holes along the shallows and oyster bars on the west side. As I eased the boat along near the shore and watched closely for shell beds, I noticed a larger boat that appeared to be grounded on a bar about two-hundred yards from me. It looked like a twenty-four foot fiberglass hull with a large cuddy cabin and inboard-outboard drive. The vessel was out of the channel and closer to shore than an experienced boater would run it.

I decided to see if I could help, and as the sound of my idled down motor reached the other craft, I saw a woman in a bright blue shirt wave at me. She was standing in the stern, and had been looking down at the outdrive which appeared to be hung up on a sand bar.

I raised my motor into shallow drive as I approached the boat, which turned out to be a Simpson 25 with a modified bridge structure over the cuddy cabin. There were no signs of fishing tackle or outriggers, and although an expensive vessel, it appeared to be poorly maintained.

I backed my motor down as I came alongside and looked at the woman standing in the stern. She somehow appeared familiar, although I could not see her face well under the wide brimmed hat and sun glasses she wore. The shirt was tied around her waist with the buttons open, and below it I could see a pair of shapely legs and a fine ass under a skimpy white bikini bottom. She looked to be about thirty-five and as she spoke to me I tried vainly to remember where I had heard her voice. "Can you help me get off this damned sand bar?" she shouted, above the sound of the light breeze and my engine.

I called to tell her I would take a look, and shut off the motor and threw her a rope as I put out the fenders to keep the two craft from hitting together. As she bent to tie the rope off to a cleat, I could see her bikini top draped on the back of the Captain's chair, and noticed her hair was wet. She had apparently gone over the side from the swim platform to try to extricate the boat from the sand.

She turned to me as I clambered aboard from the smaller boat, and I was stunned to see that the statuesque brunette was my senior English teacher, Mrs. Davenport. I had not seen her since graduation, and the last time I had heard she had left the high school and was teaching literature at a community college in the next county south.

Mrs. Davenport had been in her second year of teaching school when I had her for English, and she had been the subject of many idle fantasies during classes that year. She had been a twenty-four year old beauty at the time, married to an older man who owned several beach side shops, and she had been the one teacher who had aroused my interest in reading, when no other ever had. I remembered her as deeply intellectual and very proper, and was surprised to see her now, in the bottom half of a string bikini, beached on a sand bar in a remote part of the river.

"Well, Steven, I never dreamed I'd see you here," she said. "But" she added, "You are a pleasant interruption to what has been a shitty morning."

With that, she walked over to the center console and took a long pull on a bottle of Coors Light and sat on the Captain's chair. As she bent over to put the beer back into the holder, the shirt gapped open and I could see the whiteness of her naked breast. Her legs were red from the sun as she flipped open the cooler on the deck with her foot.

"Might as well have a beer," she said, gesturing toward the iced down bottles. "Looks like I'm going to be here for a while if you can't help me."

I took one of the bottles and opened it, taking a long drink before I said anything, Finally, it occurred to me she was by herself, and I asked where her husband was.

"Him?" she said with no small amount of disgust in her voice. "To tell you the truth, he ran off two weeks ago with his lover, and left a note saying they were going to live together in Cancun, until the divorce was final and they could be married."

I didn't know what to say, and immediately thought that the lover must be something for him to run off and leave a woman like her. Not wanting to intrude in her private affairs, I nodded and took another swig from the bottle. I could see that she had a few beers before I arrived.

She told me she had become irate that morning for no other reason than being mad and hurt, and had taken her husband's boat out to see how it ran, with the thought of selling it a good way to get even. Although she had a little experience running the boat, she could not get it off the sand bar when she ran into difficulty.

I told her I'd do the best I could to assist her, but first I needed to see how badly aground the vessel was, and if it was sand or oyster bar.

We both got into the water from the swim platform, and I felt the sand under my canvas shoes as I bent over and probed under the outdrive with my hands. The boat was not grounded badly, and the tide was coming in and would float it off in a few hours. As we stood there in water up to my knees, I told her as much. She still had her beer in her hand, and took another swig as she nodded at me.

"Are you going to go then?" she asked, as we stood there in the water.

"No" I replied, "I'll wait here and make sure you get off okay."

"If you're going to be here until I get off the sand bar, I need to do something before we go back aboard."

She put her beer on the swim platform and moved away from the boat and around the side where I could not see her. I heard a splash, and saw a flash of white go over my head as I heard her call, "Catch this, I've got to tinkle."

She had thrown the bottom of her bikini over the edge of the boat, and I saw it sink from sight where it had landed about ten feet from me. As I moved to retrieve it, I stepped into a hole and sank in the water over my head, forgetting the bikini bottom as I struggled to get back to the surface.

When I came to the surface and found the edge of the sandbar with my feet, she was edging around the side of the boat, laughing at me as I frantically looked about for the white cloth.

"What happened?" she asked, as my face turned red with embarrassment.

"I can't find it," was my reply, as I sheepishly looked at her.

She was kneeling down in the water, unable to stand erect without exposing herself, and she asked me to hand her the beer. When I did, she took a drink and held the bottle out of the water, looking at me with an exasperated expression.

"What am I going to do?" she asked. "That's all I have with me except a towel in the cabin."

I was wearing only a pair of cutoffs and my shoes, having left my shirt on board. I told her I would hand her my shorts, and would try to dive and find the bottom to her suit.

I squatted down in the water and took off the jeans, handing them to her as I adjusted my jockey shorts which had slid off with them. She watched me with a growing smile, and we both laughed at our predicament. We were both low in the water to preserve our modesty, drinking beer and giggling like school kids.

As she pulled on my shorts, I swam out to the area where I thought her bikini bottom might be found, and dove under the water which was considerably deeper away from the boat. I searched for several minutes with no luck, and swam back to the swim platform just as she was climbing back aboard.

I watched as Mrs. Davenport swung one leg over the side, and then the other. Her wet shirt had come undone and was hanging open as she turned to look at me, waiting to climb aboard. I could see the middle of her chest and her navel, and the outline of her breasts where the wet cotton clung to them. I noticed she had not been able to close the zipper on my shorts, and a few hairs were visible where the fly gaped open. My penis began to grow as I thought of her almost perfect body behind the scanty clothes.

"Come on up," she said. as she held her hand out to help me aboard.

Closing my eyes to regain my composure, I climbed up to the platform and touched her hand. As I opened my eyes again, she pulled me to my feet, allowing me a glimpse of her right breast as she helped me onto the deck.

Her shirt was soaked, and I handed her my dry one from where it was carelessly thrown over the wheel. I turned around so she could change and looked out toward the expanse of Atlantic Ocean, obscured only by the sand spits of the inlet.

When I turned back to her she had my top on, and I watched as she buttoned only the very bottom button of the blue denim shirt and reached in the cooler for more beer. She uncapped two, and handed one to me, eyeing me as I stood before her in my wet briefs and tennis shoes. My prick was about half hard, and I was embarrassed. She was a beautiful woman, and although she was less than a decade older than me, I was uncomfortable because she was my former teacher.

She told me to go into the cabin and take off my underwear and wrap the towel around me so she could dry my briefs on the railing with her shirt. I walked down into the cabin and did as she instructed. After all, she had been my teacher. I passed the shorts out to her, and sat down on the cushions in the front of the cabin.

Mrs. Davenport followed me down the steps into the cabin, a beer in one hand and a bottle of lotion in the other. Gesturing for me to lay down, she told me my back was red and I needed some aloe rubbed on it to keep it from becoming painful.

I laid down on the soft cushions, and she began to rub the soothing oil on my shoulders and back. As she reached my waist, she slid her fingers under the towel and rubbed the oil onto the sides of my buttocks and along my hips. The light touch of her fingers on my body caused my prick to stir again, and I shuddered as she ran her finger along my spine.

"Does that feel good?" she asked.

I nodded my head as she continued to rub dabs of oil into my flesh. It smelled of jasmine, and the oil was quickly absorbed by my skin as her gentle palms massaged me.

"Maybe you can put some of the oil on me?" she suggested, as she lay down next to me on the mattress.

I pulled the towel around me and sat up, marveling at her backside under the tight, unzipped cutoffs. As I picked up the oil, she loosened the button on the shirt and wiggled out of it, her breasts pressed into the cushion to preserve her modesty. She dropped the shirt on the bed, and laid her head on it and sighed as I poured some of the liquid onto her naked back and slowly began to rub the smooth skin of her shoulders.

It was warm in the cabin, but a cool ocean breeze came in from the open overhead. I slowly worked my way down her back to the top of the shorts, and as my hands traced along her waist, she put her thumbs into the belt loops and slightly raised herself up to lower them a few inches so I could put the lotion along her tan line. I could see the crack of her ass, and I massaged along her lower back, pushing the shorts a little lower as I poured on more oil.

While I rubbed the cheeks of her ass below the bikini line, she reached for the beer and took another drink. When she raised up to put the bottle to her mouth I was treated to the sight of her left breast as it lifted off the bed. She put the beer down as I pushed the shorts below her hips and rubbed the backs of her legs with the scented oil. She squirmed on the bed, but did not stop me when my hand went between her thighs and I kneaded the inside of her leg.

She told me to close my eyes and lay on my back so she could rub the lotion on my chest. I did as she asked and squeezed my eyes shut as I felt her begin to massage the oil into my upper chest and throat. I could feel my prick growing steadily under the towel as her hands gently traced fluid circles on my ribs and sternum.

I opened my eyes and looked at her, kneeling above me, her naked breasts swaying as she applied the lotion. Her large nipples were pink and erect, sticking out from the perfect globes. The shorts were pulled around her knees, and I could see the patch of hair where her thighs came together. She said nothing and a trace of a smile came to her lips as she stared back at me.

She lay down on her side next to me, and I watched in fascination as the fingers on her right hand slid under the towel which was draped over my stiff, seven inch cock. She loosened the towel and pulled on it, allowing my prick to stand erect as she moved the cloth away. As she did, her forearm touched the tip of my prick, sending shivers up my spine.

The cushions were arranged in a wide arc across the inside of the cabin and she laid down on her side on the wide bed with her face by my hip. As she stroked my navel with her light touch, I turned my body to her, my prick only inches from her lovely face. She reached down with her hands and wiggled out of the shorts, her face grazing the tip of my cock as she pulled off the wet cutoffs and dropped them to the deck.

Lightly, she began to blow soft puffs of breath on the knob of my dick, as she took the base in her hand and began to stroke it. Her luscious breasts were squeezed together, and I touched her left nipple with my right hand. It was hot to the touch, and as hard as my prick as I rolled it between my fingers.

Very slowly, she moved her clenched hand up and down my dick until a drop of clear fluid appeared at the end. I pushed my body toward her and as my prick neared her lips, her pink tongue came out and touched the drop, drawing it back into her mouth. I pushed more until the very end of my hard penis came in contact with her moist lips, which parted slightly to allow me access. Gently, I pushed my dick into her mouth and felt her lips wrap around the knob as she began to suckle it. I could feel her tongue exploring the eye, searching for more sweet fluid which was now leaking into her mouth. She swallowed as I pushed it further into her, until only a few inches of the shaft were visible between her lips.

I pushed harder, and she turned her head up so my cock would slide past her mouth into her throat. When it was buried almost to the hair, I slid it out again until only the knob remained in her mouth. I could feel the juices leaking from it as she sucked, her lips tightening around the head each time she moved her cheeks.

Slowly, and then more quickly, I began to slide it in and out, each stroke reaching deep into her throat. I fucked her face furiously as her hands grabbed the cheeks of my ass, pulling me into her harder. As my come began to shoot into her, I grabbed her hair and jammed my cock in as hard as I could, the load spurting into her throat.

She moved her head back until only the knob was between her lips, and sucked hard as the sperm filled her mouth. She swallowed several times until I was drained of juices.

When my cock had softened in her mouth, she pulled it out and licked the white jism around the base until it was clean. Then, she took a swing from the beer bottle, and stood up, her head touching the top of the cabin ceiling. I looked at her body and marveled as I saw how perfectly she was put together. Her legs were long, tanned, and well muscled, and her belly flat and without any sign of fat. Her breasts were large and and stuck straight out, with pink nipples that invited lips to kiss them. She wore a slight smile as she looked down at me.

"That wasn't in gratitude for helping me," she said, "I wanted to suck your cock and feel you shoot off in my mouth. Did you like it?"

I could only nod my head and finally whisper "Yes."

Then, as I lay there looking up a her, she said, "That's the first time I ever sucked a cock. I never did it for my husband, but now he's gone it just seemed like the first good act of my new life. It tastes good, and as soon as you're able, I'm going to suck it again."

She stood there, naked, and added, "There's going to be some more firsts, too."

As she stood watching me, her hands moved to her breasts and she closed her eyes as she began to squeeze them and knead the nipples between her thumbs and fingers. She moved her right hand from her breast and slid it down her belly to the patch of hair where her finger found the moist hole and began to work in and out in a slow rhythm.

Her other hand moved to the same spot, and she pushed two fingers inside her cunt as the boat gently rocked and her breasts swayed. I could hear her breathing quicken as her hips undulated with the motion of her fingers as she began to alternately remove each one and place it in her mouth. She buried each finger into her dripping cunt, then pulled it into her mouth, licking off the juices as she did.

I watched as she moved herself toward orgasm, her eyes opening as she again looked down at me. With one hand, she took an empty beer bottle from the galley counter and placed it in my hand. Then she lay down on her back and draped her legs across mine and raised her knees, spreading them apart so her pussy was exposed to me. I felt her guide my hand with the long necked glass bottle to where the end touched the lips of her vagina, and she grasped my wrist, pushing the glass into her.

It was obvious what she wanted, and I gently pushed the bottle until the mouth was between the lips of the wet opening. With one hand I pushed her knees farther apart, and with the other I slid the bottle up into her cunt.

She let out a gasp as I began to fuck her with the long necked bottle, and as I drove it in and out, she screamed with pleasure each time the shoulder mashed her clit. Just as she began to shudder, I pulled the bottle out and moved around on the cushions and draped her legs over my shoulders as I plunged my tongue inside her pussy. I sucked her clit until she screamed aloud with pleasure, the orgasm causing her to writhe about on the bed.

My prick had stiffened again and I moved on top of her and guided it into her slick pussy, driving it in with as much force as I could. As I pumped her she began to moan aloud and soon reached another orgasm more dramatic than the others.

I removed my still hard prick and scooted up on the cushions and laid it across her lips. She reached for it, and turned on her side, holding my wet cock in her hand as she began to massage it as she licked our juices from it.

I placed my hand on the back of her head and pushed until the end of my cock barely touched her lips. Again, she parted her lips and took the knob into her mouth, sucking gently as she had before.