Comfortably Numb Adventures: The Windsurfer – Part 1 - Sex Stories

Comfortably Numb Adventures: The Windsurfer – Part 1

... chocolates on the stove and prepared the cups. Five minutes later Anya sat up and cradled the hot cup. She took a sip and smiled for the first time. “Thank you very, very much, you are nice.” She had large white teeth and a wonderful smile as the cloud of blond hair flowed around her pretty face. I doubted that she was much more than eighteen and, as a rule, I try to behave with any woman under thirty – unless, as once happened, I get stalked, then the minimum age drops to whatever the legal age is; I’m willing to round up. I have no shame. “What happened?” I asked. “I’m not very good at this and I fell off my board. Could not get back on in the waves and pushed off by the wind. Very scared, I thought I’m dead. Can I use your phone? I want to call my mother, she is probably worried.” I got my phone and handed it to her. “It’s an expensive call. I make short. Okay?” “Okay,” I said. She dialed a number and after a few seconds I could hear the female voice on the other line was agitated. After less than a minute, she disconnected. “My mother just found out I am not home and she very worried.” “I can understand that. What did you tell her?” “That I would call her when you take me ashore so she can pick me up with car.” “You live here?” I asked. “No, we’re on vacation, but we stay at friends with car.” “Where are you from?” I asked. “Odessa,” she said. “Lovely city.” “You know?” she said. “I was there five years ago for a few weeks, in the marina, near the Potemkin Steps.” There ...

... I decided that in my next life I would go to the Ukraine to find my partner. The percentage of beautiful young women was completely disproportionate. I still don’t know why. Anya was no exception. “Are you here with your parents?” “Just my friend and my mother, my father, he gone.” “Gone? He died?” I asked indiscreetly. “No, gone. Woman.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” “Why are you on a boat?” she asked, “where is your woman?” I told her my tale. She was surprised that I had no ‘woman’. She thought it would be lonely without company and expressed sympathy that I was living a celibate life. I assured her that occasionally I met ladies that provided temporary celibacy relief. At this point she was clearly recovered and I felt free to return to my lecherous thoughts. I should have given her one of my semi-Emanuelle t-shirts, with the big armpits suitable for boob-watching, that I keep just for these situations. She hadn’t seemed inhibited in the cockpit, but those were extenuating circumstances. I couldn’t resist: “How old are you, Anya?” I asked matter-of-factly. “Nineteen,” she replied. “Are you in school?” “I’m studying to be an architect, like my mother,” she replied. “Who’s your friend?” I asked. “Her name is Tatiana, she was a student with me, just finished, her parents own the house,” she replied. We finished our hot chocolates and I wanted to get her ashore and resettled before it got dark. She asked to see the boat. I gave her the full tour. I love my boat and am a sucker for anyone ...