Father Goose - Sex Stories

Father Goose

... to be claiming it then the law of the sea applied. At least between friends.

My island is a small affair of roughly ten acres. It's the top of an old volcano and sticks up out of the ocean maybe forty feet. The island is surrounded by reefs and it's tricky to navigate into the lagoon. And from there it's even trickier to reverse a small boat like mine into the pool at the center of the volcano. See, the bowl of the volcano is open to the sea on one side and the opening is narrow, shallow, and densely overgrown by trees and vines. Natural camouflage. Once you have your boat in there it's invisible from both the sea and air.

A nice feature of the pool is that in the rainy season it's mostly fresh water and you can wash in it and swim in it but I wouldn't drink it. There's a catchment system for the fresh water supply and it's always sweet water.

The island was perfect for a small supply depot and the Germans did a fair amount of construction inside the bowl of the volcano; storehouses, a kitchen, a comfortable barracks, an empty armory, and an inoperable powerhouse. And they were careful to top off all their works with native stone so it was invisible from the air.

The perfect hide-a-way for a guy who does a little smuggling on the side.

When we got there I showed Jacintha the passage into the lagoon and then she helped me get Galene reversed into the hidden pool.

Nightfall arrived just as soon as we did. The diesels were shut off for the first time in ...

... almost two weeks and the boat took on an eerie quiet. Tied up at the dock in the pool there were no waves and no rocking. It seemed unnatural to me but we were safe so I eventually got some sleep.

In the morning I got the ladies fed and then had the sad but necessary duty of painting the Galene. She was white with gleaming brass fixtures and rails and all of it had to be painted over. Gray was the traditional color for this kind of work but I chose brown to make her less visible from the air. The one bit of style I chose was to paint the funnel blood red.

At the end of the day my beautiful yacht now looked like every other local merchant boat that plied the waters. No one would notice her now and that's the way I liked it.

Over the next few days me and my new crew refueled the boat, moved provisions aboard, and made her ready for sea.

The day before I wanted to set sail was when we heard them. Airplanes. And lots of them. They were way up high so I ran forward on the boat and grabbed my binoculars and looked up. The red dots on the wings gave them away as Japanese.

A few minutes later we heard explosions off in the distance and realized that the war we had escaped had now caught up with us.

I got on the radio and managed to get hold of some fellow in Darwin who told me the Royal Navy was pulling back to Australia. I didn't announce my location and he understood but wished us well. He also said to stay off the radio unless it was absolutely necessary because the ...