Row, Row, Row Your Boat (M/F Rom)

Pleasantly exhausted, we lay back to relax in the shade underneath the 
three palm trees.  The boom of the surf crashing against the reef was a 
percussive backdrop to the crackling sound of the wavelets as they ran 
up the sandy beach.

This cruise had turned into a real life adventure.  Instead of gliding 
across a sun lit sea, stabilized to a fare-thee-well, we had the once in 
a lifetime experience of abandoning the ship.  Why did Titanic have to 
be nominated for all those Oscars? 

The sea breeze lifted the hairs on my forearms.  The resulting goose 
bumps allowed more of my internal heat to bleed off, giving the 
impression of coolness if not the fact.  


The sun had been very hot in the life boat.  The initial exhilaration of 
getting the clumsy oars out, wrestling them into the oarlocks and 
settling onto the thwarts had quickly been overtaken by the reality of 
rowing a boat in mid-ocean.  With this group, it quickly lent new 
meaning to the term, "catching a crab."

The first time it happened, the spray of water doused those in the back.  
Which was fair enough as they weren't doing much anyway.  The hapless 
rower wound up sprawled on her backside in the bottom of the boat.  
Giggling in partial embarrassment, she tried to lever herself up.  Hands 
quickly reached out but not all were helpful in pulling her up.  The 
giggling turned into laughter as more of our lusty crew pitched in.

"No fair resting yet!"

"No lying down on the job."

"Hey.  That looks like fun."

Within minutes, no one could be seen above the sides of the boat.  
Everyone assumed a similar position, legs canted over the seats, bottoms 
and backs firmly planted in the bilge.  We quickly started a contest to 
identify the most improbable shapes in the cloud formations above us.

"If you squint this way, you can see part of a collie.  Pointed nose.  
Panting tongue.  Can I call it Lassie?"

"Nope, Sara.  I see that as Ayers Rock in Australia.  Oh.  You mean that 
cloud."

"Look at that one.  Just over the back of the boat.  Isn't that a 
remarkable likeness to . . . ?"

A muffled squeak was heard from the front of the boat.  Two of our crew 
had decided that formations closer at hand were more worthy of 
attention.  Heads swivelled around to take in the sight of Hank and 
Jennifer quickly shedding their cruise boat casual clothes.

"Ahem."

"AHEM!"

"Excuse me, people.  We've got a job ahead of us."

There's always one in every crowd.  The self-appointed captain was 
trying to get our minds back on the task of getting the life boat to the 
island just visible on the horizon.  

Fortunately, we had none of the writers from the news group on board.  
Otherwise, he might have been someone important who thought we would pay 
attention to him.

Left to our own devices, we took a quick vote.  The splash of him going 
overboard announced the unanimous result.  High fives clapped and 
rah-rahs resounded, cheering us up immensely.

"Don't tell us what we have to do."

"Get your own oar and row yourself."

Taking pity on him, I threw him a life ring, uncoiling the line as I 
did.  Making sure the end of the line was securely tied to a cleat, I 
knew he would survive in the heated surface water of the Pacific.

But the spell of the cloud game was over.  Rearranging ourselves on the 
seats, we began a rapid round of re-introductions.  We were all everyday 
people.  Enticed only by the discounted cruise prices, everyone had all 
been quite content to leave the writers and their groupies to their own 
play.

Hank and Jennifer returned to their amorous pursuits, egged on by subtle 
whispers of encouragement.  Wedged into the prow of the boat as they 
were, they soon realized that that they'd need some change in position.

Hank struggled to his feet, pulling Jennifer up with him.  Blind to the 
gape-mouthed gazes of the rest of us, the pair succeeded in sloughing 
off each other's shorts, their only remaining clothes.  There still 
wasn't enough room.

Looking at them from behind Jennifer, we couldn't see what their hands 
were doing.  Presumably, Hank was caressing and squeezing Jennifer's 
breasts while she tweaked his nipples and pulled at his chest hair.  We 
had read this chapter many times in the postings.  Every now and then, 
one of Hank's hands would emerge from between their bodies to graze down 
over Jennifer's buttocks.

"Nice buns."

"Oh, you."

"Well . . . they are."

Jennifer's mounting urgency was obvious as she surged forward into Hank, 
pushing him right into the very "pointy end" of the boat.  Try as he 
might, Hank was soon going to lose anything against which he could brace 
himself.

Looking frantically around, Hank began to despair.  Both on the right 
and left, all he could see was water.  There was no boat left except for 
the wooden rails compressing his thighs.  As he started to sit down 
under the force of Jennifer's insistent assault, the sun-heated metal of 
the bow cleat touched against his scrotum.

"Yiiii!  That's hot."

Jerking away from that unexpected sensation, Hank bumped Jennifer back 
half a step. 

One of our watchful spectators realized what had caused this sudden 
interruption.  Thinking quickly, he swept up a life jacket from the 
bottom of the boat and tapped Hank's free arm.

"Here.  Use this."

Hank stuffed the padded jacket under himself and lowered his butt onto 
it.  As he did so, the rest of us noticed that the prow of the boat 
dipped lower into the water, raising the stern in turn.

Grasping onto his shoulders, Jennifer swung first one leg, then the 
other around Hank's hips.  As she made each movement, the bow of the 
boat dipped again, lifting the stern in response.  Now, her legs hung 
out, over the sides of the boat.

"You know, this reminds me of when I was a kid."

"What does?"

Sotto voce suggestions quickly passed through the attentive crew.  This 
caused a blush to appear on the face of the first speaker.

"No.  When I was a kid, we used to propel canoes by standing on the 
gunwales and bouncing up and down.  Sounds weird but it worked."

"Do you think it would work with this boat?"

"Sure.  But we all have to do it together."

The exchange of long-forgotten memories continued.   We could talk and 
watch at the same time, although the comments from the men were strained 
and perfunctory.

Our lovers were oblivious to the review of man- and woman- powered water 
craft.  The musculature of her back rippled as Jennifer thrust herself 
closer to Hank.

Lifting herself up, Jennifer clearly reached for Hank's cock.  The 
motion of raising herself was rewarded by the now expected dip of the 
bow and lift in the stern.  A moan signaled her success in planting the 
end of his cock in her pussy.  As she settled down on him, it was Hank's 
turn to moan.

At first, there was no motion from the pair in the front of the boat.  
We took this opportunity to look at each other.  As heads nodded, a 
small up-and-down motion could be seen in the bodies of some of the 
crew.  Catching on, the rest of us synchronized our movements.

The effect was to lift Hank and Jennifer up and down.  Bonded by their 
position and the interlocking of their genitals, they were captive to 
our fore-and-aft rocking.  Jennifer was cheating, though.  At the upper 
end of the lift, she tightened her buttocks to delay her body's descent 
for a second.

Hank began to respond in kind.  At the bottom of each cycle, he 
deliberately arched upwards, meeting Jennifer's descending body and 
increasing the impact between the two of them.

"Time to speed it up a little?"

"Just a bit."

We were now in as much unison as the love-making pair.  Slowly, we built 
up the speed of the rhythm.  As the sounds of their panting breath grew 
louder, so did ours.

Hank spread his fingers out on Jennifer's back, holding her torso to 
him.  Jennifer's hands rested on her thighs as she surrendered to the 
efforts of the boat's crew.

We picked up the speed again.  As we did, Jennifer's hands came up to 
entwine her fingers in Hank's hair, holding his head to her breasts. 
Hank's head moved back and forth while Jennifer rubbed herself against 
him, in counterpoint to the sensations caused by his face.

There was a noticeable swell in the water as the boat rocked up and 
down.

"Let's finish for them."

"Are they ready?"

"We'll find out."

"Not yet.  They're still enjoying it."

Some of the crew were now partially standing up as they lent additional 
push in their efforts to drive the hull of the boat deeper into the 
water.  To the slick of sweat dotting the foreheads and shoulders of the 
crew, other fluids were beginning to make themselves known.  The salty 
tang of the ocean water was being overtaken by the scent of aroused men 
and women.

I happened to be sitting beside a woman whose eyes were closed as she 
rose and fell.  The muscles of her tanned thighs clenched and unclenched 
while her pink-tipped toes curled up and down.  While lending her 
contribution to the pair in the front of the boat, she was going to get 
some, as they say, for herself.  I saw her hand between us, fingers 
wrapped around the edge of our seat.

The sight of her breasts rising and falling, nipples poking through her 
thin top, triggered a sympathetic response in my cock.  I placed my hand 
over hers.  Her fingers spread out and I interlaced mine with hers.

That morning, before all the exciting events that led to the sinking of 
the cruise ship, I had dressed for a tropical day afloat.  Wearing just 
a T-shirt from Jimmy Buffet's, loose cotton shorts and boat shoes, I 
felt ready for whatever might transpire.

Once in the boat, though, I had been warned about the effects of the hot 
tropical sun on my bald head.  I now remembered that it had been this 
same woman.  Improvising, I had twisted my T-shirt into a makeshift sun 
hat.  She was my age but far wiser about taking precautions outdoors in 
the sun.  A toasty, golden glow on her limbs attested to her success in 
converting the rays into beauty.

The boat continued to rise and fall.  The shushing sounds of the curved 
hull hitting the water were like the exhalations of some large sea-borne 
animal.  My seat mate and I gradually leaned our upper bodies together.  
I was close enough now to hear her soft oohs and umms.  Her breath blew 
in and out of her mouth, moving the soft beige-blonde fringes of her 
hair.  There was no mistaking her effect on me.  Her enjoyment of what 
had started out as a solitary pleasuring turned me on.

I tightened my fingers around hers and slowly released her hold on the 
seat edge.  Drawing her toward me, I shifted my body so that I could 
place her hand in my lap.  Leaving it there, I ran my hand up around her 
back.  That left me with a free hand that I moved to the front of her 
body.

She spread her fingers to wrap them around the bulge in my shorts.  I 
felt her thighs open so that I could run my own fingers down between her 
legs.  Both of us began to rub each other in counter time to the 
movement of the life boat.

>From around us came a supporting chorus of murmurs and gasps, accented 
by the exclamations from our pair in the front of the boat.  The boat 
was now moving, up and down, through an arc of about a foot.  What had 
started as a genuine attempt to help our lovers had now become a 
concerted effort for everyone.

My new lady friend had started ahead of me but showed no hesitation in 
trying to catch me up.  Her stroking of my cock became longer and more 
persistent.  She turned her head to look at me.  Her hazel eyes were 
only part way open as we gazed at each other.

"That tingles"

"That tickles?"

"No.  Your hand is making me tingle."

I understood what she meant.

"Your hand is going to make my shorts very wet."

"Oh goody."

With that, she ran her hand down, inside the front of my shorts.

"Don't stop touching me."

The shaft of my cock ran up through her hand, brushing against the 
inside of her forearm.  Up and down.  Up and down.  Now I was helping 
increase the arousing feeling of her skin against mine.

I undid the button at her waist and lowered the zipper of her shorts.  
My hand plunged down, under her panties, into the moist, hot cavity to 
cup her groin.  My middle finger groped further downwards to slide 
against her erect clit.

Rising tones from Jennifer cut through the background noise of panting 
and groaning as a signal of her orgasm, her voice punctuated by the 
guttural grunts issuing from Hank's throat as he joined her.

A soft keen came from that sweet mouth close to my ear and her hand 
clutched my cock as I began to spurt in my own release.



As we congratulated ourselves and both sweat-drenched lovers afterwards, 
I noticed that the combination of the ocean current and our own 
movements had taken us to the edge of the reef of the island anyway.  
Our former captain floated on his back, the life ring under his arms, 
the stern line firmly wrapped around his fists, blissfully unaware of 
where he was.

"Let's go gang.  We have to get this crate through that opening in the 
reef."

Now, every rowing position was paired between newly found lovers.  
Together, we made short work of the distance into the lagoon, our 
nominal captain bobbing in our wake.  As the boat grounded into the sand 
of the beach, I looked to my new partner.

"Like?"

"Like."

"Oh.  Definitely like."

"Who needs writers?"

"Some of them are pretty nice."

"You're right.  We'll keep them."

"They're good to have around."