"It's going to be one of those days again," thought Neil to himself as he watched the steam rise from the Landy's bonnet. It seemed like one of the tailbacks from a metropolis, but a herd of scrawny cattle in the back-roads of northern Mocambique could stop traffic just as well, and he was stuck in it with a crew-member at the airport, and a charter-yacht in pieces. And a serious deluge of rain just made things worse. And muddy.
He cursed and lit a cigarette.
Looking over at his briefcase on the seat next to him, he turned over his diary and hunted out the page which had been faxed to him. His prospective crewmember sounded like an average twenty-something traveler, but the faxed copy of her passport showed nothing but a black smudge for a photograph. Neil's thoughts turned to the truculent nogoodsonofabitch pile of spares the owner called an engine, and he wondered if his new crew- Ros, wasn't it- had brought the replacement part from down south.
He drove into the airport. It was really just a corrugated-iron shed with political posters peeling from it which dated back to the bush war. The rain was still bucketing down and the airfield looked dismal, and as he strode into the office with the hand-written sign saying "Transit Longue" on it, he scanned the passengers who were waiting there. A few locals looked at him, and the Immigration official pointed a bony hand at the young woman in the corner. Ros looked up at Neil, and she stood up, nodding to the official as she bent over for her bag.
"So you're the skipper? Hi, I'm Ros. This is what you've been waiting for, I think." She said, offering a hand with a box in it.
"Shit- sorry! Let me get your bag. I'm Neil. Nice to meet you!" he said, taking her duffel and the box of spares from her. "You don't look anything like the splodge they faxed me- look!"
Ros was wearing a Mount Gay baseball cap with a pair of sunglasses over the bill, and a pair of khaki combat trousers under a heavy ocean racing jacket with a boat's name and logos all over it. Neil showed her the fax that he'd received.
"Gee, that's a nice picture! Do I really look like a splodge? Well this is me," she said and took off her cap and shook her hair loose. Her dark chestnut hair was long, cut just below her shoulders, and it was wildly curly with sun-kissed highlights. She smiled.
They walked out of the shed and over to the Land Rover. Neil put her bag over his shoulder and hurried round to the passenger door and opened it with a flourish for Ros.
She giggled.
"Welcome aboard our luxury airport shuttle," said Neil.
Ros made a mock curtsey and swung herself up into the cab.
"Scuse me- I gotta get this thing off," she said as she removed her heavy jacket. "I got this thing on a delivery a few months ago, but it's bloody hot."
Neil smiled and looked over at her as he climbed in. "She really is quite pretty," he thought as he started the old Landy.
He glanced at Ros again as they turned onto the rutted road back down to the beach. She was tall- about 5'10", he guessed, and very slim. Her white t-shirt was snug-fitting, and he couldn't help but notice how nice Ros's small breasts, unfettered by any underwear, looked. They bumped and lurched their way down a sand road and soon arrived at the clearing next to the owner's beach-house.
"Well, there's home." said Neil, as they looked out over the mud-flats at the 58' catamaran idly roosting, perched on the sand. "She's a tip at the moment- I've got the starboard engine in pieces, but I'll put your present in and close her up. We'll be good to go by this afternoon."
Ros gaped at the boat. "Let's get going," she said, and started unzipping the bottoms of her trousers. Neil watched her long bronzed legs emerge from the functional trousers.
"You must have seen these before," said Ros as she caught his stare.
"What? Long legs like those? No!" Neil laughed.
"No, man, my trousers! Let's go! Am I going to be safe on this boat alone with you?" she asked with a giggle.
Neil felt his fat cock stirring in his jeans, and took the opportunity to get out of the Landy. He grabbed Ros's bag and the box and slammed the door. As she stepped out of her door and bumped it shut she was donning her jacket. She lifted her arms and Neil caught a glimpse of her flat golden tummy as her shirt rode up. His dick stiffened noticeably. It was going to be difficult working with a woman like this.
Neil and Ros walked out over the weed-covered mud-flat, with the rain hissing down around them.
The big catamaran looked like a condominium sitting on the mud, and Neil lifted the luggage aboard. He hiked himself up and reached down for Ros's hand.
"Put your foot there," he said.
"Okay- hup!" he called as he pulled Ros onto the swim-deck.
"She's huge!" gasped Ros, looking round.
She took off her jacket and dumped it over her bag on a seat. Her t-shirt front was soaked through, and her little pink nipples showed clearly through the rain-soaked material. They had hardened into tight little points, and her skin was full of goose-bumps. "Shees, I'm cold from this rain," she said.
Neil opened the big sliding door into the saloon, and stepped inside.
"Come inside and get warm. Cuppa coffee?" he asked, trying to hide his sizeable erection behind the box of spares. "I need to get some dry kit on. Kettle's over there," he pointed.
Neil sat down on his bunk and pulled his jeans and rugby-jersey off. He thought for a moment. In actual fact, they were supposed to share a cabin- after all, the owner had requested a couple as crew, but Neil had just been abandoned by his long-time girlfriend- so he called back to her: "You can sleep anywhere you like, but you have to share my pit when we have guests. You okay with that? It's a twin cabin, so if you don't snore, you're safe. I drown snorers!"
The very suggestion of being close to Ros excited his cock, as though it had a mind of its own. Neil tried to ignore it as it stiffened and grew.
