A Handyman's Memoir

Lindsey and I walked into the Cuban restaurant the next day for lunch, and picked a quiet table in the corner. Marta, our waitress from two days ago, smiled when she saw us and told the other waitress heading our way that she would take care of us. She was five feet of dark, mysterious Cuban sexiness, and she greeted us like long lost friends.

"Hey you two! Whataya been up to?" she said.

"Wild sex on a beautiful wooden boat," Lindsey said with a smile.

"Ooo!" Marta said, eyeing me and smiling. "How come you tourists always have all the fun?"

"Join us later? There's plenty of fun to go around," I said.

"I bet there is," she said, and she winked at Lindsey as she walked away, leaving us with our menus.

We pigged out on some fantastic spicy fish and cold beer, and enjoyed watching the constant parade of interesting characters coming and going from the restaurant. When we finished Marta brought us our bill and we gave her an extra nice tip along with a note with my phone number and the boat's name and location. She had cooled on the sexy talk as our meal wore on, so Lindsey and I doubted we would see her outside the restaurant, but you never know. She took the note and put it in her pocket.

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We hadn't seen Marta for a few days, so I was surprised when I got a call from her. It was a bit disappointing though. She called to see if I was interested in buying any guitars, of all things. She said she didn't know many people with money, and if I had a big boat I must have some. We both laughed about it, and she was so sweet I agreed to have a look. She was calling to help out a friend who needed money to get home to see a very sick parent, so I thought maybe I'd buy a cheap acoustic if he had one, and teach myself to play.

Marta picked us up at the marina in her worn out old Chevy and drove us off the island and up the highway for about half an hour, and we pulled in the driveway of a shabby looking apartment house. As soon as her musician friend walked out Lindsey and I recognized him immediately — it was Johnny's friend Phil, who we had met at Penny's camp the day Connie died. We only had half a day together up there, but he and Lindsey had spent some 'quality time' together in the middle of the sexual frenzy that broke out in the pond that afternoon, and she gave him a big hug and a kiss next to Marta's car.

"You guys know each other?" Marta asked, looking surprised.

"Yes, we're old friends," Lindsey said.

"What's up Phil!" I said, giving him a bro-hug.

"Hard times man," Phil said, shaking his head and looking tired. "My mom's dying. Had a bad stroke. I'm tryin' to get home. Marta said she'd drive me to Miami to catch a plane, but I gotta sell a guitar or somethin' to make it happen.

"Marta, you got time right now?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's my day off," she said.

"Let's go. Pack a bag Phil, we'll wait for you." I said.

Phil hugged me and thanked me with tears in his eyes and went inside to pack. He came out with a military style duffel bag and an old guitar case that he handed to me.

"I want you to have this man," he said. "I hardly ever use it. It's just an old Harmony, not worth much and nothin' special, but it's got a straight neck and a good set-up and it plays nice. Every boat needs a guitar."

"You know, I've always wanted to learn how to play," I said. "I'll treasure it Phil."

Marta drove us like a bat outta hell to Miami, I bought Phil a round-trip ticket to Oregon, took $500 out of an ATM machine and gave it to him, and he was wiping away tears as we left him.

"I wish the whole world was full of people like you," Marta said as we walked to her car.

"And you," I said. "Not everybody gives up their day off from work to help somebody. So, are you ever gonna take us up on that offer for a drink on the old boat?"

"Just a drink?" Marta asked, her eyes twinkling. "I thought wild sex was involved."

"When someone that looks like you gets on the boat with us that sort of goes without saying," I smiled.

Marta, it turned out, wasn't driving fast just to get Phil to the airport quicker. She was just a crazy son-of-a-bitch of a driver, and Lindsey and I felt lucky to arrive back in Key West in one piece. How she avoided the police I'll never know. She parked on the street near the marina and we all walked to the boat to give her a tour, me with the old guitar case in my hand.

"Oh, this is my kinda boat!" Marta said as we stepped aboard. "I hate all the plastic boats these days. My father had an old wooden cruiser when I was a kid in Miami — a Richardson. You remember those? I think he held it together with chewing gum and baling wire, but God I loved that thing. Most of the good memories of my childhood were on that boat."

"I came part of the way down the Intracoastal with a nice older couple on a Richardson," I said. "Beautiful boat."

Marta was in her glory looking around Connie. "I could get used to this in a hurry," she said as she sat on the edge of the soft bed in the forward cabin and let her petite body fall back. Her long black hair bounced on the bed like black feathers and settled all around her, framing her smiling face and dark brown eyes.

"Why do you call her Connie?" Marta asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"She was one of the great loves of my life. She passed away last year and left me the money to buy boat, so I named it after her," I said.

"I'm sorry you lost her Steve," Marta said. "But now you have Lindsey, so you're happy again."

"I met Lindsey before I met Connie actually," I said. "Let's have a drink and I'll tell you all about it."

We sat in the shade on the back deck and I told Marta the whole crazy story of the last two years, and she was fascinated.

"You are one of the world's greatest lovers, I think," she said in her adorable Miami Latino accent.

"Hardly," I said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I just have lot's of wonderful women friends."

"Steve would never admit to being wonderful at anything," Lindsey said. "You're right Marta, he's one of the great lovers, absolutely."

"You must be too if he's with you. Show me," Marta said, standing up from her deck chair and reaching for our hands.

We went back down the front cabin's steep steps and I wrapped my arms around Marta's diminutive frame and kissed her. She was certainly no more than five feet tall, but somehow voluptuous at the same time. With a curvy hourglass figure and a tiny little waist, she could play the perfect teenaged cheerleader in a porn movie even though she was probably in her late twenties. Her tits looked so amazing under her clothes I assumed they couldn't possibly be real, but I was wrong, and they were the most beautiful tits I had ever laid eyes on, with richly colored dark brown nipples setting off her deeply tanned Mocha colored skin. As she stripped fully naked the only tan lines on her perfect little body were from bikini bottoms, and her sweet ass was shade lighter than the rest of her.

"You two look incredible together," I said, admiring the tall, blonde, blue-eyed Lindsey next to our petite new friend.

"We'll look even better when you make us cum," Lindsey said seductively.

The two of them undressed me, and Marta dropped to her knees and stoked my hardening cock with both of her small hands.

"You are a big man," she said as she took me into her mouth. Everything about her was scaled down in size from Lindsey, and her small mouth stretched to accommodate half of my length.

Lindsey squatted behind her and kissed her neck and shoulders while she ran her hands all over Marta's perfect little body. Marta moaned onto my cock and an unstoppable orgasm rushed through me like never before, quick and powerful. I came in gushes into Marta's moaning mouth, and she swallowed my warm offering as best she could.

"Wow!" Lindsey said quietly. "I've never seen anyone trigger him like that before! You've got the touch sweetheart."

Marta looked up at me with those beautiful dark brown eyes and I swept her up into my arms and kissed her. I laid her down gently on the bed, kissed my way up her legs to her pink prize, and her legs spread wide.

"Oh Steve!" she gasped as I nuzzled the opening to her hot core, and slipped my tongue inside.

Lindsey had joined us on the bed, and after a passionate kiss her lips found Marta's super-sensitive nipples. I worked her clit with my tongue, Lindsey worked her tits and caressed her body, and the passion swept Marta away. Her tiny body wiggled and squirmed as she came, and she mumbled a stream of Spanish words with her back arched high.

"Ay, caramba!" Marta said breathlessly as she came down. "You two know what you're doing! Wow!"

We made love deep into the night, stopping halfway through to heat up some leftover restaurant food that we wolfed down like animals. Marta's sexual appetite was just as voracious, and she had too many orgasms to count. She loved having my big cock in her, and the feeling was mutual — the intensity of the sensations I felt inside her small pussy was indescribable, and the enthusiasm and joy she was showing took it all to another level. Lindsey loved making her cum, and the two of them had a synergy with each other that probably set a new record for number of orgasms in one night. The highlight for me was the two of them in a sixty-nine, with Marta on top. After Lindsey came I slipped into Marta from behind with Lindsey licking my balls and Marta's clit, sending her into a squealing frenzy as I came hard inside her. Lindsey sucked my balls into her mouth and a secondary wave of orgasm washed over me again and I collapsed, unable to hold myself upright.

When the three of us finally pulled the sheet over us to get some much needed sleep Marta said, "I guess the tourist's don't have all the fun after all."