This is a love story - perhaps a bit long-winded but bear with me - the story wrote itself! Memories fill the pages and although I've done my best to make it exciting there are moments of peace - as there should be. But don't expect rampant sex from the word go!
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
As far back into my life as I can remember I've loved fishing. I think my granddad started my interest because he had his own boat – only about 18 feet long with a small cabin on – but to me it was as good as a pirate ship! And so, whenever we stayed with my grandparents, namely every Easter for a couple of weeks and each summer for six weeks I'd hanker after going out fishing. If granddad wouldn't give in to my entreaties, I'd go and just sit in the boat, whether it was in the water or out of it and make-believe. Because in the boat on my own I could be anyone and do anything. Heck – the boat could even be my own spaceship!
But when granddad did take me fishing I was in heaven – the feeling of being out there among the waves and other craft made me feel strangely grown-up even though I wasn't. And when I caught a fish I definitely was grown-up! But times passed and granddad passed on too but the memories lingered......
Therefore, many years later I inevitably bought my own boat.
I was now in my mid 20's and I'd settled into work well – I was already climbing the corporate ladder. My job was secure; I'd bought myself a house; I'd got a decent car – and now I'd got a boat too. And I didn't even have a wife or kids to muck up my weekends either. Having a boat didn't mean I was rich, but I'd been in the same job since I left college and I'd had an inheritance from my granddad, so it was a 'luxury' that I could reasonably afford.....
Needless to say, my boat was somewhat more sophisticated than granddad's. This one had a proper cabin; it was 30 feet long and had a built-in diesel engine and I used to keep it in a marina on the south coast of England. When I wasn't pottering around in it, that is! Mind you, it was large enough to amble down the coast to some of the other resorts, so it did its bit of travelling apart from just fishing. Naturally I had it all rigged up to sleep and eat in, even if it was a bit primitive really.
To be honest, just why I fished, I don't know – presumably just for the pleasure of it; just for the enjoyment of pitting myself against nature; of braving the elements on occasions and of enjoying the peace. There wasn't a whole lot of sense in bringing piles of fish home – there was only me to feed, so I used to throw back my catch except for the occasional decent cod which I'd bring home, fillet and then freeze.
I'd never got round to settling down. Every woman I'd met seemed to be lacking something; somehow we never clicked; somehow we always parted with one or other of us saying "I'll give you a call" – which never happened..... But quite honestly I'd become quite happy as a sort of loner, although I did have quite a few friends; but they weren't 'in' my life – they were more like passing acquaintances on the whole. I could always round up someone if I wanted a dinner companion – male or female – I was happy enough. And I suppose I had more male friends than female, but so what, they made better 'mates'.
I often wondered if I was gay but although I could see a degree of attractiveness in a bloke occasionally, the women definitely looked better to me, but my love-life.....well, my love-life was my boat, I guess.
Until that day......
It was in early May, if I remember correctly and we were having one of those spells of mid-spring warm dry sunny weather. I'd had the boat hauled out so I could clean the hull and give it some coats of paint and varnish when I realised I was being watched. That actually wasn't all that uncommon – it's amazing how many people just come and watch a man tinkering with his boat, but this was different, I could tell.
Eventually I stood upright, stretching my back after having been bent over for too long and pulled my shoulders back. I took a deep breath – and relaxed.
'Must be time for a break' I thought as I worked to relax my muscles.
"You're getting on well," this male voice said and I looked to see who it was.
The owner of the voice was a young man; I'd have guessed he was a bit younger than me although quite honestly he looked more like an overgrown boy. He was sitting on the upturned hull of a small dinghy just nearby but now he levered himself up and sauntered over to stand nearer to me.
"Been watching you working – it's good to see someone working so diligently," he said, "Sorry – should have introduced myself, shouldn't I – I'm Andy."
"Oh hi," I said, not sticking out my hand, because it was covered in muck, "Nice to meet you. I'm Brian."
"Nice to meet you too then, Brian," he replied, "I hope you didn't mind me watching.....my dad's got his boat over there" – he waved his hand across the marina – "But he's a grumpy old fart, so I've left him to it!"
I laughed at his predicament and let my eyes scan him. He too was in shorts and a t-shirt but they looked a lot nicer than my own clothes.
'They were probably cleaner too' I thought. He may have looked boyish but his muscular legs gave his age away a bit, I reckoned. And he'd got a nice happy smiling face, so I mentally accepted the idea of chatting with him.
"Don't blame you, errrrmm, Andy," I said, eventually remembering his name, "And no, I don't mind you watching but don't let this anti-fouling stuff get on you though."
He stepped back and looked down.
"Horrible stuff – still so long as it does what it's supposed to," he said, "But I prefer to paint the nice bits of the boat – above deck."
I laughed at him and then, as I'd started to sweat somewhat, I stripped off my t-shirt.
"Phew!" said Andy suddenly, "Where'd you get those muscles? Don't you look good! Looks like you've been working out!"
"Huh – muscles – nah, only a few! Just a habit I got into," I replied, doing some mild stretching exercises, "Twice a week at the gym for a quick work-out – well, more of a keep fit thing really, I'm not dedicated to it."
"It works for you then," said Andy and it was then that something caught my eye.
He'd developed a bulge in his shorts that wasn't there before and suddenly I found that I had to turn around because I too had almost immediately been struck with the same affliction.
I busied myself with pouring some more paint into my pot while I pondered the situation.
Here was me showing off some muscles and Andy was getting turned on by them! Was he gay? I guessed so.....but since I'd stiffened too, what did that make me?
My cock subsided enough for me to turn round again and immediately my eyes clamped onto his groin once more.....and sure enough, there was his bulge, only possibly even bigger than before!
I was about to make some excuse as to why I couldn't keep on chatting when Andy spoke.
"Brian – I know I've only just met you, but I was planning to get some lunch soon so would you care to have a beer with me and perhaps a bite to eat? The clubhouse bar isn't too bad," he said, "Once you've cleared up, that is?"
Since there were two things on my mind – a cool drink and something to eat, I could hardly say no – anyway, he'd be company for me.
"Yeah, sure, be glad to," I replied, "Let me get cleaned up."
"Oh that's brilliant – thanks everso," said Andy, "There's usually such a load of old stuffed shirts here – it's nice to meet someone who isn't! I'll wait for you."
"Ok – won't be long," I said as I worked hand cleaner into my skin, "Clean t-shirt and I'll do, I guess."
I was still a little worried that I'd be having lunch with a "gay" person – but then I realised that he was right – we were some of the few younger people here so lunching with him, whatever his sexual orientation, was better than getting lumbered with some old crust.
Five minutes later I was relatively clean and presentable and we sauntered over to the marina clubhouse – and as we walked, I realised that we made a quite reasonable looking pair. Andy was of very similar build to me if not quite so muscular. We both had fair curly hair and narrowish faces; smiling eyes and mouths and we were about the same in height – a little over six feet. I was feeling quite contented as we idly chatted as we walked to the bar.
"You old enough to be in here?" I asked as we approached the bar.
