Though the pathway to her very survival starts out what most would call highly questionable, the author finds himself involved in yet another incident where he has no choice but to come to the aid of an actual Damsel in distress. This story is not only true, but based on the actual events the exact way it unfolded and (of course) told through the eyes of his counterpart, the Great Peterswiftt.

Just before closing the office that particular Thursday afternoon I decided to give myself Friday off to have a long quiet weekend. Kay James and Dunbar who had recently been visiting, were back home in Boston doing God knows what and I just got my little intruder Amanda settled in on her new housekeeping position of caring for my home, my office and lease property ... and let’s face it, I needed time off to clear the cobwebs out of my head, it’s a luxury I seldom (if ever) afford myself.

It had been a profitable but hectic couple month for my business and trying to juggle all of that with what that quarter’s huge earnings had profited, finally took its toll: “Besides, ” I thought to myself: “It always comes down to feast or famine and you are not really a young man anymore!”

"I know what I need to do” my mind wandered as it tried to fill the gaps left by my addiction of feeling guilt for wanting to take any time away from my work: "I'll reserve a boarding skiff to run me out to The Heart of Joy perhaps after an early breakfast tomorrow morning, then I'll take her out to where we can't be bothered" and I got on the elevator.

Within minutes of entering the lobby I had them on my cell and I reserved the tender for five the following morning and then I stopped at the local grocery for a few food items, picked up a tidal chart and made my way for a dinner out that evening before returning home.

Just after heading out that following morning I learned from the radio that spot thunder storms had just concluded out over and off the gulf in the wee hours of that morning, leaving Sarasota Bay and the surrounding bay area uncommonly cool for that time of year and: “I might just be a tad underdressed” came to mind when I climbed out of my Escalade on the Parking lot at Marina Jack.

“Shit!” I thought when I realized I had chosen to wear my new boat shoes without socks, my linen dress shorts and a light silk shirt (hell! I was going boating) and from last evening’s local weather news and NOAA, it was reported that the sun would be high and bright in a couple of hours, so I guess I wasn’t overly concerned because I knew everything should be warming up soon and: “Besides, ” I thought to myself: “I have cold weather and rain gear on board” and let's face it, I'm a bit vain and I didn't want to look frumpy or overdressed like some kind of tourist at breakfast in their fine restaurant.

As I walked toward the main building I remember experiencing the bustling sounds of would be fisherman and water sport weekenders all scurrying around to ready their boats to go out and do some serious game fishing, It seems that after hearing a cold front of any kind was passing through, they believe that it stimulates a feeding frenzy in fish. .. though I’ve always noticed how it stimulated more of one among the weekend warrior fishing crowd.

Anyway, I walked in through the rear service door of the restaurant well before their posted "Open" time where I saw one of the chefs shucking fresh bay oysters and though I knew that they were intended for the lunch and dinner crowd, I also knew I would just love a tray with my breakfast and espresso, so I told Jenny (the Assistant Manager) to tell my server to bring me a dozen with two over easy eggs and my coffee.

The minute my breakfast tray was set in front of me I saw the skiff pilot walk on in, so I asked him to sit and join with me.

"Those look good but I’ve eaten hours ago, but take your time I can use a coffee, where are you off to this stormy morning Mr. Swiftt?" He asked: "Are you taking her out by yourself again sir?"

"Yes, I just want to head out and shake her down in some open water." I responded: "I only gave myself today through Sunday off.” And I thought for a moment: “I will probably just take her straight out and come right back, my intentions are to be moored back out here in the bay before dusk tomorrow, are you on Sunday if I decide keep her out a day longer?" I inquired.

When he told me that he was working through Sunday I mentioned: "If my plans change and I decide to spend a night or two on board, I will call ahead and let you know."

In a little under thirty minutes we were motoring through all of the fishing frenzy (I mentioned earlier) over their wakes through the cold crisp morning air and as we approached I hit the key fob and he pulled right over to Heart of Joy's descending boarding platform. The moment I jumped out, he tossed me my bags and after thanking me for his tip, he was on way.

Once fully on board I did my quick perimeter check of the deck, unlocked the hatch and stowed the meat and other perishables below and grabbed a cigar and my trusty long all-weather windbreaker. Back out on deck I noticed the morning sunlight was just starting to peek through the dark predawn rain clouds that lay thick out over the horizon and even before I had all the sails uncovered I was already out of that jacket and weighing anchor.

I remember how all the smaller boats way up ahead were huddled around some under water structure they found, always with each fisherman trying to land a trophy for the bragging right, so I was careful to glide on past them while trying my best to leave them in as little of our wake as possible: “Every departure, just like clockwork” I chuckle to myself, for it seems (these days) we experience them at least one way every trip.

Once out in more open water she was anxious to perform and as I gave into her insaciable need for me to add more sail and when she took off, together we set our course south east, directly into the wind and the spray as I clipped the end, shielded my butane from the gusts and toasted and lit my cigar.

As I’ve noted in previous writings, The Heart of Joy is a lot of boat, almost too much for one man or a novas crew, and if it were up to the Harbor Master, too much for any well seasoned three! But her and I have been together since before all of those rules and regulations and since we basically grew up together, the local authorities turn their heads when it comes to me, but I am sure that my fat annual donations to their various Sailor Foundations is what makes this all possible, rather than my mean look and gruff exterior.

As we ventured further out, the sun shined brighter, the sky turned a cloudless pale blue and she was cutting into the waves and kicking up her heals and I was having the time of my life and with a thorough look far up ahead: "All clear!" I announced out loud as I opened the tiny cabinet next to the wheel, grabbed my trusty bottle of Bookers and after pulling the cork with my teeth old Pirate style (it’s a childish habit, I know) I poured a healthy shot and enjoyed that early morning with my cigar, my boat, the wind, the salt spray and the sea.

“This shot is our little tradition” I thought as the bourbon pleasantly burned the back of my throat to warm my chest.

When what seemed only seconds became two hours plus, I knew that I wouldn't be heading back that night: "for who could ever be ready to leave all of this?” I thought: “Hell, I seldom get away and we owe justification to no one!” So I contacted Marina Jack and left word to cancel my return ship to shore skiff and when they asked when they should expect me back: "will advise" is all that came out as we adjusted our heading just a touch southeast.

About thirty minutes prior to nightfall, right at the onset of twilight that evening I noticed up ahead what I thought to be the beginning of the everglades and I started dropping her sails so we could coast on in. Within the hour she was firmly anchored on a secluded shoreline in the mouth of a partial deep water cove and I was already in the on deck captain’s chair listening to Sinatra while sipping on my second Bookers and contemplating what to grill for dinner.

As I looked around through the last light of day at all the primitive looking tropical foliage and thick undergrowth that thrives at the water’s edge, I couldn’t help but wonder (as I often do) if this is what it looked like long before man and his boat.

“Maybe it has looked exactly the same for hundreds of years, ” I thought and I couldn’t believe it was still unspoiled by man to that very day. .. when sudden I became annoyed.

I didn't know why at first, until I realized it was from something I had been hearing over Frank's smooth effortless singing, something odd for the area, out of place, something that didn’t fit and shouldn’t have been there. So I quickly turned the music off in an effort to listen more closely. .. and there it was again, a voice, an angry male voice off in the distance, then a woman's scream: "NO!" and out of reaction I shut down the deck lighting to allow myself a better view.

I was literally pissed by then, I’ll admit it, I mean I had taken my time off from work not only to plan, but to actually get away from the office and quite actually, I wanted far away from everything that bothered me, especially anything so annoying as that..

Then finely, way off in the distance I saw the silhouette of a long cigarette boat slowly gliding near the mouth of the cove: "Good they haven't seen me yet!"

Sound can really travel on the water, so I quietly opened the water tight hatch and decided on the twelve gage Wheatherby over the slimmer lines of my AR-15. I guess at that time I wanted it more for intimidation purposes rather than extended fire power and distance, but either way I wanted to be ready while at the same time hoping that I wouldn't be required to use it, but I knew if I was forced, I would.

For my left wing radical Liberal readers, let me explain; it took me well over thirty years to restore The Heart of Joy to her pristine condition and everything about her (with exception of her electric sail hoists, stabilizing gyroscopes and her electronic security, sonar, radar and communication systems) she is spot on original. That alone makes her a prime target for modern day pirates, so I keep her well armed both on deck and below.

When I finally made out a woman’s voice screaming a plea of: “PLEASE!” I lit myself in the strong glow of the on deck party lighting and Yelled in my meanest voice: "What is going on there!"

"Mind your own fucking business mother fucker!" One young male voice replied "yeah or you'll be next, ASS HOLE!" Rang out in an echo from the second offender all loud and clear between our two vessels. .. and I racked in a shell.

You know, there's just something about the crisp mechanical tubular steel sound of a pump shotgun when you chamber a round, and the music from that fine Italian steel seems to make all the would be bad-asses (such as these two punks) become quiet and tame from their first sight of that fine weapon in my hand.

The second it answered on my behalf as to what the two of them just bellowed, hundreds of the sleeping water fowl behind me suddenly take flight. .. and those two would-be tough guy bad asses cowered in succession.

I grabbed my twelve inch hand held spotlight and instantly a cylinder of lightning blue/white light shot from my deck blinding them while illuminating their entire cockpit and when I saw those two shirtless thugs standing well behind the windshield side glass with what looked to be a young woman cowering in between them, my temper shot off the charts.

"Look Mister, we didn't see you there. .. Hey we’re sorry!" The first one yelled back:

"Yeah, we don't want any trouble with you sir!" The second one hollered: "Don't shoot!. .. Please don’t shoot; we'll just be on our way."

"Well, take it slow Fuck-stick." I demanded: "If I feel one ripple of wake from that ridiculous looking thing, I will hunt the two of you down with my Coastguard buddies and we’ll stomp a mud-hole in each of your asses and then fill it in with a stack of written fines!"

Oh my adrenaline was stoked! (I’ll admit that) and I was feeling strong, refreshed and bad-assed-knarly myself, and as their two young six packed torsos took heed to the defined sound in my final warning, my focus changed: “Are you alright Miss?”

“Yes Mister everything is cool!” She attempted to convince me and then they hurriedly started the engines ... and without another word exchanged between the four of us, they slowly backed out and within five to six minutes I heard them (from a good distance away mind you) light it up and they were gone.

“Yeah that's right. .. go on you two fucking pussy mother fuckers; you don't want any of this." I childishly taunted out aloud knowing they couldn’t hear me, but I left the Wheatherby close just in case they later decided to grow beer muscles and come back to reckon with me: “but. .. fuck’um!” I thought as fired up the propane grill and turned Sinatra back on: “No reason to let them two patty crackers wreck my trip!”

I was below in the galley for a good fifteen to twenty minutes, maybe more, getting the corn on the cob ready to grill and seasoning my steak before I heading back up, and the second my foot hit the top step of the ladder, the CD changed from Sinatra to Darin and in that split second pause, I heard it port side center deck! It was a woman's voice: "Please. .. Please help me, " so faint that at first I thought that I might be imagining it. .. and when the soft music started again, it drowned her call for help out completely.

Immediately I shut the music off, grabbed the hand held spot again and started sweeping the cove looking for the source of that sound: "Setup!" came to mind. .. "Be careful Swift, stand your ground" and I reached and took my shotgun in my left hand holding it at ready.

About the third pass out, fifteen or so feet from my hull it illuminated a woman's head and neck barely above the surface with her extended arms and shoulders partially submerged. Her head was tilted back and I could tell she was struggling to keep her face above water. .. and in an instant I threw her the tethered life preserver ring as I continued sweeping the surrounding area looking for those thugs.

"Nothing now, all clear" I thought, and I knew from the quite solitude there was no way those two ruffians could have snuck back in without me hearing them. But I also knew there was no way those two young punks had the stones to throw a woman overboard leaving her to drown like that.

When she was finally able to grab the flotation ring with her left hand, her arms went through the center and I gently pulled her toward me while being extremely careful not to pull it away from her in her weakened state. I hit the button lowering the platform and boarding ladder and I untied the preserver rope from the cleat and carried my end down with me as I cautiously descended the ladder to the surface.

Once I had her up against the platform I could tell from her condition that there was no way she could be pretending or be any part of a plot to pirate my boat. But: "You better act quickly." I thought to myself: "They could be stupid enough to try to use her as bait and if I find that out, ” I thought “I’ll leave their shot riddled bodies for fish food."

As I lifted her small frame out of the cold water she seemed uncommonly heavy for her size and when I asked: "Can you stand?" She collapsed shivering in my arms. I bent down, put my right shoulder just below her belt line, put my arm around the top of her thighs just under her hips and after standing with her slumped over my shoulder, I started up the ladder.

Her upper thighs against my right forearm just under her small butt felt as cold as a frozen turkey and the second my waist was at deck level, I gently rolled her off of me while being careful not to bump the back of her head on the deck and I hurried up the rest of the way myself.

As I knelt next to her: "Miss. .. Miss, can you hear me?" I asked as I patted her cold clammy cheek and when I sat her up and she puked some saltwater: "Hypothermia?" I thought to myself.

When I grabbed my jacket from the wheel to throw it around her, I noticed the surface temp gauge on the auxiliary dash flashing fifty-seven, fifty-nine-fifty-seven and I lifted her into the captain’s chair, stripped off her wet top and wrapped my jacket around her and I reached under it, unfastened and unzipped her wet shorts and as I was pulling them off from her feet: "What are you doing to me?" She frantically groaned.

"Are you with me young lady?" I inquired as I again patted her right cheek. When she shook her head "yes" I noticed that her lips were blue and her teeth were chattering.

"Water" she frantically insisted and I flew below opened the bar fridge to grab a bottle, then I slammed it shut and decided to take one up of room temperature to keep from introducing anything else cold in her slender little frame, before literally running back up on deck using every other step.

"Here you go, little sips, take little sips." I instructed and after she took a big swig, it instantly came back up with some phlegm and bile: "Stay with me now! We need to get you below and out of the rest of these wet things so you can warm up." I told her as I shut off the grill: "Can you walk?" I asked, but as she slowly shook her head ‘yes, ’ and tried to stand she passed out and I had her back over my shoulder before she hit the deck.

I reached over near the wheel, turned on the perimeter security systems, blacked out all but the security lights and backed down the ladder carrying her on my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Once below (hell, I didn’t know what to do) so I laid her out on my bed and pulled my jacket out from under her and wearing only her wet bra and panties she put her hands between her legs and rolled to her left side to intentionally face away from me: “Oh God! Good sign! I thought: Please don’t let her die on me!”

My shirt from the top of my shoulder down past my belt and through my shorts were soaking wet from carrying her and I opened the side cabinet, grabbed a wool blanket off the shelf and I threw if over her. I stripped out of my wet clothes and I quickly showered the puke smell off of me before putting on a clean pair of silk boxers and a long sleeved “T”: “Hell, I was cold, so I knew she had to be freezing!”

The minute I stepped back into my stateroom I noticed she was sound asleep, Hell, I hoped that she was and I didn’t lose my fearful concern until I noticed she was still breathing, so I went back up on deck to double check and insure that I had set all security systems correctly before our hasty retreat. Then I stowed the shotgun, grabbed the tray of uncooked food to keep the morning gulls away and I headed back below.

"Hart of Joy has our back now, she'll keep us safe" I thought to myself and then I heard her mumbling gibberish, perhaps from shock: "Damn it Swiftt!" came from under my breath: "So much for your relaxing time alone with your boat."

When I quietly crept back into my cabin to check her condition more closely, she was breathing a rough little gargle of a snore and when I reached under the blanket to feel the outside of her upper thigh, she felt as cold as ice: "Heaven forbid!" I thought: "What am I going to do and how will I explain all of this if she dies."

But I had to quickly put those reactionary thoughts out of my mind for I was on a mission: "I'm not going to let that happen" telling myself: “If you do everything in your power to prevent that and it does happen, this will be much easier to explain.” I considered: “But not on my watch, not on my watch!”

As I raised the blanket to unclasp her soaking wet bra, I noticed for the first time how shapely she was: "Down Swift!. .. Down old boy!, " I thought: "We need to use the right head here, eye on the ball" and I pulled it down off of her right shoulder and after gently threading her arms out of it, I went to the other side of the bed and gently pulled it out from under her and I carefully placed the rest of the wool blanket up past her chin.

While standing there holding it in my hands, I noticed that it was ice cold as well and I Knew I made a wise choice by undressing her, but what actually concerned me then was, "what else could I do? I'm a Commercial Building Contractor damn it, not a doctor!" I reasoned, but I was still the one who pulled her clothes off and I didn't want that to come back to haunt me in any way: “I guess I’ll deal with that if and when the time comes.”

However, I instinctively knew that if I didn't get her body temperature up she would be dead by morning, so I knew I made the right choice, I had to chance it, what else could I do?

I reached over on the wall and turned on the heat and I went back to the other side of the bed, turned out the lights and crawled in under the covers right up against her nudity for the added body heat. I rolled on my left side, put my right arm around her smooth little belly and as I pulled the back of her even closer, I immediately experienced the chill from her cold clammy body, but thankfully she didn't stir.

On or about three a.m. I woke with a start and I lay wondering if it was something that I heard that woke me or the anxiety from the situation weighing on my nerves. But she was still pressed back up against me and I could feel the bottom of her bare breasts on my forearm and the bottom of her cold feet on my shins just below my knees and she seemed to feel as if she was finally starting to warm up. .. some, I was hoping.

Now being cautious from being startled awake like that, though I knew The Heart of Joy's systems would alert me if an intruder attempted to scale the hull in order to breach her deck, I still had to be confident that we were safe, then I noticed how in her sleep, her little bottom kind of unconsciously moved back to gently grind against my loins and then I realized that she was taking at least some comfort under the warmth of the blanket and the heat from my body and: “that had to be what woke me, " I realized.

I slowly rolled on my back to let the blood flow in my tingling left arm and after what I thought to be an hour or so later, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard her ask in a low and almost demanding tough-girl tone: "Where are my clothes?"

So, what the fuck, I waded right in: "Look, I fished you out of the ocean last night; if I hadn't heard your cries for help you would be dead now. How did you get yourself into this predicament? Did those two hooligans throw you in the gulf?"

"Where. .. Are. .. My. .. Clothes?" She demanded for a second time with the hint of a southern drawl and instantly I knew she was a hard little ‘White Trash’ Florida Cracker.

Still half asleep I had to think for a moment: "Your blouse and shorts are still up on deck and your bra is in the laundry on top of the washer." I answered.

Without turning to face me, she reached behind her and shoved and tucked our top sheet and wool blanket tight down in between us, pulled it tight under her chin and then she asked: "Who undressed me?"

I immediately took the blame, I mean what the fuck, what was she going to do?: "I did. I had to get your body's temperature up or you would have gone further into shock and died. .. Young lady!. .. I don't think you realize how serious the condition you were in actually was at that time. You are very lucky to be alive."

"Did you look at me all naked like this?" She defiantly asked while ignoring reason.

"No!" I answered: "You still had your panties on like you do now" and she huffed out a loud sigh of disgust and sat up pulling the blanket off of me in order to hold it down to totally cover her butt and the front of her.

Even in the dark I could see the smooth curve of her back, the gentle sweep of her spine and that slender waist and as she stood, I saw her firm smooth shapely ass cheeks barley separated by her white thong. But when she attempted to take her first step forward, she collapsed to her knees.

By the time I made it to the other side of the bed she was up on all fours trying to stand and I swooped down and while draping her with the bunched up blanket and sheet, I helped her up: "Look, if I was going to take advantage of you, don't you think I would have done that by now?" I reasoned as I assisted her the rest of the way up like she was a small child and then laid her back on the bed and rolled her up in the blanket. I tucked the bedspread in around and under her in order to keep her body heat intact ... and I sat in the corner chair and covered myself with my robe.

And only a few minutes later I heard her voice: "Cold. .. So cold. .. I'm Freezing inside."

And I heard myself respond: "That's the after effects of shock and the hypothermia you were suffering." (Hell, I didn't know, but I took a shot) "Your body temperature has well improved. If you need me to lay with you again, just for warmth now, it’s OK" and I waited for a response, but from her breathing I could tell that she was fast asleep again or had passed out, so I laid my head back and dosed my eyes until I finally dozed off in the semi comfort of my chair.

Before mornings first light she was starting to stir and come around and when I quickly got up to dress, all of a sudden: "Ahoy!. .. Ahoy! Heart of Joy!" came from what sounded to be a bullhorn right outside the starboard porthole ... and she sat strait up.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" She asked in a panic: "WHO IS OUT THERE!"

"Relax!" I told her: "I'll go up and see, but bad guys don't announce themselves. It's probably the Coastguard or Water Patrol. Don’t worry, I'll go up and check it out, you just stay put." I tried to console.

"Please don't tell them I'm here. .. Please don’t tell anyone that I'm here!" She begged.

"Hey don't worry, I'm sure they're the good guys, you're safe now." I tried to comfort as I walked toward the ladder.

"No PLEASE! You don't understand;" by then she was literally pleading: "Please promise me you won't tell them I am here!"

When I looked back and saw how truly frightened she was. I indulged: "I promise. .. you have my word. I won’t tell a soul. Ok?"

Once out on deck I saw a small fast looking Coastguard cutter motoring in next to my boat with one of the young men in uniform standing on the front deck platform, so I yelled down: "Good morning, how can we be of service Captain?"

Without addressing my question he came back curt and all business like: "It’s Lieutenant, Captain and where are you headed?"

Do to his arrogance and with some reserve so as not to bite his head off, I responded: "We just decided to take her out for a short cruse and a shakedown. No destination in particular, I never seem to find enough ‘away-time’ these days and I just don't get her out enough." I vaguely explained.

"I see your registered out of Sarasota Bay, Saint Armand, is that information current?" He inquired.

"It is." I responded: "Near Marina Jack, I was planning on heading back there sometime late today and a little more aggressive I added: “Is there a problem officer?"

After that, a little more solemn from my tone he responded: "When I noticed from the top of your tallest mast that you were tucked in back here, I ran your registration and I decided to stop and tell you that an unexpected squall is developing in the Gulf of Mexico off the Texas coast and it's headed toward the panhandle and reportedly gaining strength. A small craft advisory will be in effect for the Gulf Coast, from north of Saint Petersburg to just south of Englewood. You should be able to pick this up on NOAA, any time now."

"Wow, thanks I'm glad you spotted us, ” I responded in an attempt to make the peace.

And then he became a little more inquisitive: "Well Captain, are you out piloting this grand vessel alone?" The young ones always love to use nautical terms and I could tell in his voice that he was fishing and that "yes" would be the wrong answer, so I played along.

"Why no Lieutenant, my first mate is below. .. We may have had too much wine with our dinner last evening, but he'll be fine soon." Then he dropped it on me, the main reason what I assumed he was there for and the true cause for being out on patrol that early.

"You wouldn't have happened to encounter a long speedboat running up and down around here just after dark would you?" And before I could answer he added: "It was reported they had been speeding up and down around here reaping havoc on docked boats with their wake and multiple residences have actually reported damage to their vessels.”

And without hesitation I answered: "Yes. .. I did see a boat that fits that description pass here. They fired it up just northeast of us and from the sound I believe they headed due north" and he thanked me.

After they swiftly but carefully backed out, he waved his approval and when they got to mouth of the cove, they took off heading north and I turned on the weather radio: "Nothing yet" I thought: "I'll check NOAA below."

I grabbed her wet top and shorts and headed back down where I heard the head flush and she walked out into my stateroom still wrapped in that itchy woolen blanket: "Are they gone?" She frantically asked.

"Yes, I took care of it, they've left." I answered: "But I think you owe me an explanation. Are you in any trouble, are you a fugitive or wanted for anything? I mean the way you're acting makes me think that they may have been looking for you." I sternly inquired and after she sat on the foot of the bed, she unloaded everything.

"I got into trouble for writing bad checks and on some possession charges, and to be honest, I just got paroled. Look, I’m not supposed to be out of Bradenton County or I violate that parole and I will be send back. Look mister, I was in for over eighteen months and I'm clean. The two guys I was with last night know this, but they insisted I go for a short boat ride just along the Manatee. When I refused, they told me they would stay within county limits, but when they got me out on their boat and I wouldn’t party with them form fear I would test positive on my next drop. .. well, that seemed to piss them off and they took me out of the county and we kept getting further and further away because I wouldn't agree to have sex with both of them. Each time I would refuse, they would take me out even further."

Totally shocked, my immediate response was: "And they threw you overboard to drown like that! What kind of company do you keep? Fuck them guys!" I shouted in anger.

She tearfully blurted out: "They're two guys I knew from before I got busted, and the ones who I used to get my drugs from. Look, I'm clean now and I intend to stay that way. The final time they tried to force me to have oral sex on both of them I jumped out after telling them that I preferred to take my chances with you. I didn't know we were that far apart by then, and I didn't think the water would be that cold."

"And you didn't consider there could be sharks or jelly fish or sting rays or the fact that my deck is some ten feet out of the water?" I questioned.

"They were both drunk, demanding and getting handsey to the point of being abusive. I was frightened and stupid. .. and give me my cloths!" She demanded extending her right arm when I realized that I was still holding her wet wrinkled top and shorts.

"Look, you can't ware these" and I held them out all damp, still wet, very musty and smelling of puke.

"Well just what do you expect me to put on then?" She barked back at me.

Oh I wanted to bite her head off right then and there and ask her who in hell she thought she was talking too, but I realized that this little lady almost died last night and I composed myself and calmly requested: "Give me your panties."

"What!" She responded in obvious disbelief with rage and anger.

"Give me your panties and I'll throw all of your things in the washer while you go in and get a good hot shower." And I fumbled through my closet until I found my favorite Tommy Bahamas Gauze Lanai shirt, and then I added: "This is obviously too big for you to wear as a top, but it's long enough that it should cover your bottom like a beach dress. After you get cleaned up you can wear it until your things come out of the dryer."

She took it from me and laid it on the bed behind her and demanded: "Are you at least going to look away?"

And when I replied a casual: "No" she kind of took on a little conceited smirk, lifted both legs, raised her hips up from the mattress and pulled her panties off under the security of that blanket. Then to my surprise; she tossed them right at me.

"In the right drawer next to the sink you'll find some new toothbrushes still in the tubes. There are new bars of face soap in the cabinet behind the mirror, feel free to use the shower jell. There's plenty shampoo, I'm sorry, but I only have men's deodorant. You can use my razor if you want and there are a couple of new combs from a set that I've never used, so feel free." And I reached back in the closet and took out a fresh fluffy white beach towel and handed it to her.

She turned and walked to the master bath holding that blanket from the front all wrapped tight around her and when I heard the door latch her panties were under my nose. No real strong fragrance, but to my surprise kind of floral and nice in a womanly sort of way. Even after soaking in salt water for however long she was in, her scent was quite arousing from laying next to me most of the night, maybe it was more from the idea of what part of her they were up against rather than her actual essence, but I got a kick out of them all the same.

I opened the louvered doors and threw everything in the washer, added soap and started to fire it up, but not wanting to rob her of any hot water, I decided to let her complete her shower first.

"No way to snag these panties for your collection Swift." I thought to myself as I tossed them in with her other dirty clothes: "They're the only pair on board this trip and they’ll surly be missed." I reasoned with my evil grin to myself.

I made my way to the front inside wheelhouse and listened to the weather reported on NOAA and then I realized that the young Coastguard lieutenant was on point, for they were spelling out a totally unexpected good sized blow and the Sarasota bay area was right in the middle of it for our predicted return voyage.

Now The Heart of Joy is a sea worthy craft and I had no doubt that we would make it back safe, but at her age. .. (our age) why put the added stress on ether of us. She always takes good care of me and I decided to stay within the protection of that secluded area until the Oceanic Weather Division sounded the all clear.

I went into the galley and started to rustle us up some breakfast, I keep her stocked with plenty of dry goods and canned items, but I always bring my meat, eggs and a loaf of good Italian bread along each voyage; however, not expecting a guest this trip out, I only had the two steaks. So I rummaged around in the pantry and I pulled out one of the three cans of Spam I had stashed for emergencies some time ago (I hate the very thought of that crap, but it is a good sea ration in a pinch) and I sliced and put it in a preheated dry skillet, started the eggs in a little melted butter and before I had time to make toast, the heads Hatch open.

The second I heard her bare little feet walk into the galley I started the espresso machine: "Coffee?" I inquired and I turned to face her.

"Wow!" I thought: "She is a cutie!" Not beautiful mind you, or super pretty, but really, I mean extremely cute. To me she looked to be somewhere between forty-eight, maybe a hair past fifty, but well preserved. Her light brown hair looked even darker all combed strait back wet like that and the island style "V" neck of my double X gauze shirt hung off her shoulders like a fashion beach dress. It was cut so low on her short little frame that I could see the insides of both her firm breasts and she just stood there with a surprised look over the fact that I was actually admiring her.

Somehow, though I knew I had never seen her before, she looked vaguely familiar, but to me, I guess all attractive women do.

"Oh yes please. I would love some" She finally replied: "Listen. .. I'm sorry I went off on you like a Bit. .."

"Hey it's ok; you had been through a lot." I interrupted, cutting her off.

"Well, I didn't even think to thank you for saving my life. .. and you chose this shirt because it's almost see through. .. didn't you. .. am I right?" She snapped at me while trying not to smile.

"Actually. .. no I hadn't noticed." I answered with a smirk: "I hope you like your eggs over easy and I wasn’t expecting a guest for breakfast so will Spam do?"

"Any way on the eggs will be fine and I actually really like Spam, besides, I am starving." She responded: “Right now I would be willing to eat anything” and I let that one go without my standard raunchy comeback, though I held several in reserve.

Milking her ordeal and perhaps still playing the savior/doctor, I replied with my ego: "A good apatite is a sign that you are doing much better and it shows you're coming along fine. Have a seat, " and I set the tiny white china espresso cup and saucer in front of her and then mine along with our plates: "Dig in" I told her and we actually had quite a nice breakfast together with just a little small talk, as I made it my point not to pry into her personal business any further.

After we'd finished she stood up and said: "Let me do up these dishes, you cooked."

"No, " I told her: "That's ok; I'll knock them out while you see if the washer is done and if so, just throw your things in the dryer." And I pointed to the little hall where the louvered doors were.

When she came back saying: "It shows they still have ten more minutes, so we have some time.” She added: “Look, I told you some about me, would you mind telling me something about yourself? Do you live on this boat?"

"Only in my dreams" I responded: "But there's no way I can tell you about myself without knowing your name." I remarked: "After all, technically we did sleep together last night and I don't even know your first name and that makes me feel cheap" I teased as I offered my hand: "I'm Peter" I announced as we shook hands.

She looked at me with a cautious but inquisitive look to finally say: "Rhonda. .. my name is Rhonda."

"Well, I guess that's a start." I told her. "It looks kind of nice outside for now, would you like to go up on deck and get some warm sun before the storms set in?"

With a real look of concern she asked: "Don't you think we should start heading back? I'm a little troubled after losing my purse with my debit card, cell phone and ID in this cove and I hate to be over anxious or sound ungrateful, but I still need to figure out a way home from wherever you park this thing."

"Well Rhonda, I hate to the bearer of bad news, but the Coastguard and NOAA have indicated water craft advisories in effect for north of here. They're tracking a squall that will be centered right where we would be passing just prior to, or during our arrival home. .. that is if we were to leave now. I'm afraid we may have to spend the night here or at least wait until we get the all clear before heading north. We could head further south to a safer location, but that would only prolong our trip time home." I explained: "We'll start heading back as soon as we have safe passage" and she started to look a bit panicked.

"Don't worry." I tried to assure her: "I'll get you there! My vehicle is parked at Marina Jack and I'll personally drive you. .. and if you're uncomfortable with that, I'll see to it that you make it home safe in an Uber or a cab. Where about in Bradenton do you stay?"

"With friends for now, " Is all she offered as an answer and hoping it wasn’t those two assholes, I decided not to question her any further.

“Come on' let me give you a tour of my boat." and as we stood, I instinctively touched the small of her back and I showed her everything below deck while wondering how she would handle it when I offered her "ladies first" for the ladder climb to the main deck.

After we left the forward wheelhouse and headed back through my cabin, I knew that I wouldn't get that chance because she took my left wrist, turned to face me and asked: "Are you involved with anyone?"

Though having sex with her was pretty much on my mind since I pulled her from the water, her sudden boldness still caught me off guard and suspecting or maybe more hoping that that sex was what she intended, I answered: "No commitments if that's what you're asking" and she got up on her tiptoes, placed her hands around the back of my neck, pulled my head down, wet her lips and she kissed me on the mouth sweeping the inside of mine with her warm sweet tongue.

And Wow!

When she finally broke that long kiss, she looked me dead in the eyes and said: "You know you are a very attractive man." Well of course that statement made me skeptical; I mean here’s an attractive younger woman who just admitted to me that she not only had recently fallen on hard times, but had been convicted of several felonies and was still obviously in legal jeopardy over myriad of other issues.

The simple fact that I own a big luxury boat alone must have made me appear to her as ‘a rich old fool/easy mark’ and my inner-radar immediately went off telling: “Caution Peter, think this through, slow down and consider the pitfalls, ” but sadly enough, by then the man head took over.

Without further consideration of being played, my hands were on her narrow waist and as they filled with my shirt, she raised her arms and magically it came off over her head and in my hands. When my right one found its way down under her firm little butt, my left was around the small of her back ... and I slowly lifted and gently carried and laid her in the center of my unmade bed.

I stood for a moment to admire the sheer sexiness of her all MLF nudity, because everything up until that point (though necessary) had been just the tease of a little glimpse or a quick glance and without any further consideration of her suggesting any other type of sorted outcome, I began removing my cloths.

I lifted her legs and placed my forearms at the top of her thighs and as I pulled her toward me, the tops of her little feet went against my midsection and she instinctively parted her knees.

I kissed the insides of both her firm smooth legs while ever so slowly working my way down to her crotch where I nuzzled in short silky-soft light brown pubes with the tip of my nose. .. and I lingered there. Her scent was wonderful, intoxicating, all woman and she seemed to be more sexually empower with each and every stroke of my tongue.

As my mouth slowly worked over her smooth bare outer lips, the tip of my nose uncovered her clitoris and though it actually started to plump before my eyes, I intentionally avoided both it and her inner lips, creating a tease that magically made them ‘both’ become extremely wet and creamy.

I continued to tease her in that way until my chin noticed them secrete an even thicker and more fragrant, opaque nectar and as my hands moved upward, my eight fingers maintained soft contact with her sides until my thumbs encountered the underside of those firm plump middle-aged breasts. .. and I gently compressed, fondled and kneaded them in a rhythmic unison with the actions my face and tongue had assigned.

There could be no doubt that she was into it, for within seconds I could tell that her body was wanting, no demanding more from me and I knew from experience how and what to provide for such an obvious need.

When she arched her back to present more of her inner self to my wanton mouth, I gently took her swollen clitoris between my lips and ever so slowly sucked it into my mouth. As I lapped the underside of it with the top of my tongue, I gently teased it with lip covered teeth and she literally went wild.

When I felt her place the bottom of her feet flat on the tops my shoulders, I gently pushed forward to allow my tongue the access to everything in the sweet and fragrant valley between her soft inner lips and finally. .. that little brown eye. .. and as I started to softly rim it, she totally lost all control.

I worked that satiny wrinkled donut as she continued to squirm and as I tweaked her nipples and forced my tongue to explore the depths of all of her offerings, she started to cum.

I am here to tell you as I write this now, she was so hot at that point her little hard body was literally trembling for more and as I attempted to stand and remove my briefs, her fingers were in my hair, she pressed her little butt cheeks down against the mattress and after positioning my mouth against her wet inner lips, I ran my fat tongue between them as far as it would go.

Her inner scent was marvelous, her flavor paramount, fresh and crisp and clean and the consistency of her natural nectar was smooth and thick and silky and I loved the way that it felt and tasted it projected as it coated my tongue, danced over my lips, but most of all, the way that it tended to string between her beautiful inner flesh and the tip my nose ... and of course, the tip of my tongue.

After I gently pulled away to finally remove my underwear and socks, I rejoined her in bed, where not surprisingly finding myself aroused beyond my norm. It had been a few days and between the stress of work and the uncertainty associated a recent sexual encounter with a cute needy eighteen year old, I knew I had to slow myself down or face the horrors of an early release.

I took both her hands in mine and raised her arms strait up above her head and when I started kissing her face, she began licking my lips and cheeks to intentionally experience and seemingly savor the majesty of her own flavored secretion

Damn, there is just something about women who intentionally taste themselves from a man, I mean something in that very act that stirs and burns so hot inside of me, that I could never explain. The thrill of experiencing them lick suck and literally enjoy their own goodness has turned me on beyond any possible written description and I never seem to tire of that.

I started kissing the side of her neck, nibbling her ear lobes, licking the sides of and down and over her breasts, as if I hadn't had a woman in months. .. and as I started to lick and nibble at her nipples (like I was a teenage boy) her breathing became so labored and so hard that I could both feel and hear her little heart pounding deep beneath them as she fought to take in every labored breath while in the throes of pure enjoyment.

When she anxiously pushed me off to reach down to fondle my package, no written words will ever describe the expression on her face or her simultaneous audible gasp when her tiny hand experienced the weight and size of my angry raging offering.

But then confidently, I smiled and asked: "are you ok with this?" And she let me go, put her left palm in the center of my chest, and after pushing herself back a little, she looked down in between us.

The micro second her eyes witnessed what her hand had experienced, I rolled onto my back and cradled her with my left arm and without ever breaking her gaze, she continued to look upon it as it throbbed in all of its twitching glory. I mean she literally watched in total awe as the massive bulbous head turned from a deep rose into an angry forbidden shining deep purple blue. .. and I could literally feel her apprehension.

When she finally spoke: "I don't know what to say, I mean I never” and she paused.

"Well maybe it's time you had" I sarcastically teased, and I could tell by the curios look on her face that she not only would, but she actually thought that she somehow had to.

She got up on her right elbow and laid the side of her head in her hand and reached down in an attempted to cradle both of my gynormous balls in the palm of one little hand. When each of them kept spilling off, one side or the other, in the confines of their giant sack, she finally gave up.

"Is your name really Peter, or is that a nick name?" She mocked and when I didn't answer she added: "I knew from the lump that I felt on the small of my back last night and from the fit of your shorts this morning that you had to be big, but Peter. .. I had no idea you were this damn big!"

After I thought I had heard it all and not knowing quite how to react, I thought for a moment and then explained: "That's because it was resting then” and I smiled. “Listen Rhonda, you're not the first to express such concern." I reasoned: "But I am good at this and I guarantee you more pleasure than discomfort."

"Oh, I'm not leaving you without experiencing that!" She openly exclaimed: "I would spend the rest of my life kicking myself and wondering what it would have be like to be with you" she added as my prostate twitched to pump out one huge un-anticipated globule of crystal clear precum through the mammoth slit in its giant head.

As her hand came out from under my ball sack to spread it around the mushroomed shape down into the large cleft at the bottom of my circumcision scar, to my surprise she sat up and took that giant shining knob deep in her open mouth.

Now I know that this is redundant and you're getting tired of reading it in most everyone of my stories, but there is something that just has to be said about a woman who pleasures a man with her mouth, without any form of prompting. In fact, The Book of Bob states that “even more should be said for those who do that for their own pleasure, for they can truly be called woman.” Ah, enough about that for now, so back to what actually happened.

She was talented, there was little doubt she had done that before, but the enjoyment she seemed to derive from it almost drove me over the edge! As her every reaction indicated that she was enjoying as much as me as I was from her mouth, her swirling tongue let me know that she was attempting to give back as much as she was about to receive, but I didn’t want her to receive it quite yet.

When her left hand cradled and gently squeezed my right testicle, I had to back her off to keep from ejaculating. I wanted to pace myself, I wanted to last and I wanted to leave no stone unturned; I was focused on experiencing everything about her, whether she offered it up or not.

But most of all, first of all, I wanted her to know after that night that she had been with the Great Peterswiftt.

When I reached over with my left hand at the left side of her slender waist just above her hip, I directed her back and pulled up on her hands and knees and knowing then that she was way over anxious and wouldn’t pull away; I knelt behind her and with cock in hand ... and while carefully spreading her precious inner lips with my thumb and forefinger; I slowly pushed my angry tool in between her dripping folds.

When both hands reclaimed her slender waist to work myself on in, she took a deep breath through her mouth and seemed to hold it.

Oh she was tight, and I felt the fleshy band of her opening stretch to yield up and over the taper of the head and I felt it kind of snap as it retracted back tight in the deep groove directly behind ... as she loudly expelled that breath.

When I stopped to let her adjust, there was a sigh from my denial and that indicated that she was not only hot, but ready for more, so I continued my advance ... and then I started in.

When I felt her vaginal wall form around my shaft and her muscle control attempt to draw me further in, I bottomed out: "Oh!. .. Oh. Oh DEAR GOD" rang throughout my cabin and she started to cum for the second time.

As I held the massive head deep and firm against the bottom of her canal, the sweet flesh that was gripping me instantly became hot and even creamier, and I started to back out. .. and then back in ‘hard’ again.

With each extraction I was slow and methodical and I would watch her sweet pink inner lips cling in their feeble effort to hold me in place, just prior to each quick, hard and determined insertion!

Over and over I repeated my move, slowly increasing my motion in between assaults and when I peaked at my top comfort speed ... I owned every square inch of her body and soul.

Within seconds her deep grunting turned into one shrill scream and during her private announcement to her own God, informing Him that she was on her way, I instantly stopped ... and ever so slowly pulled all of the way out.

Instantly she was pleading: "Oh my God NO Peter!" And I had her on her back; I put the back of her heals on my shoulders and with her inner ankles against my cheeks (Peterswiftt style) my manhood found its mark, and I started back in.

By then I was holding my total body weight between the palms of my hands and the balls of my feet using every ounce of it to drop down hard with every inward thrust, followed by a super slow withdrawal. .. before hitting home all over again.

I continually railed her like that (with my signature pile driver move) and I knew when I was through ... I would be the one fuck she would NEVER forget.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" She'd expel at the completion of each and every hard bottoming thrust, only to be followed with: "Oh my dear God man – Oh my dear God!" during each controlled super slow extraction and after what seemed to be an eternity in the horniest of penis of all times, she finally started to orgasm all over again!

Right at the conclusion of each, a delayed warm fluid discharge literally pressurized around my fat shaft that queefed out between her inner lips in a loud warm babbling spray ... and by then I was so winded that I almost missed it.

As I looked deep into her eyes and let her feet down, she wrapped her legs around my waist to hold me deep inside as if forbidding me to leave her inner glory.

She was kind of pretty in a rough sort of way, cute and perky and she smiled and giggled and put her arms around my neck to pull herself up off the mattress and out of the wet spot to French kiss me again with her sweet tongue.

With my heart pounding like a drum, my chest burning as if on fire and totally out of breath, half wasted and totally exhausted, I had to break that kiss to roll off onto my back and fight for the air that so I desperately needed.

"Wow! You are really something!" I heard myself compliment her: "Damn Swiftt!" I thought to myself: "Slow it the fuck down boy! She may not be a keeper."

But I was already considering she might be.

She snuggled up under my arm and after laying her head against my shoulder, it was obvious she was starring at my angry unsatisfied package. After a silent moment between us she was finally the first to speak: "Peter, wow! It has been over a year and a half. .. I'm so sorry if I came off as such a slut. "

"You were great!" I cut her off: "Just great. That was great." I rambled while still fighting for every breath.

"Well, what about this?" she remarked as she pushed my stiff swollen shaft down toward my balls, and then she let it go just so she could watch it smap back in rebound.

"Just PLEASE give me a minute and let me catch my breath." I answered trying to contemplate how I was going to get what I really needed in that weakened state... and after a few minutes, I just came right out and asked: "Would you mind getting up on your hands and knees again for me" and as she pushed herself up off of my chest I was compelled to ask: "A little over a year and a half, are you sure you're not too tender after what just happened?"

She responded: "No Peter, you're the one being tender, I trust you" and her last three words cut into me from me knowing what I was intending to do.

Within the first three full bottoming thrusts I had collected an ample amount of nature's lube and without breaking my stride, I pulled out, rose up off my calves, zeroed in, and slowly pressed into the center of her warm tight little ass with the precision of a fine Taylor threading a needle.

Immediately she was up on her fingertips, she threw her head back and huffed out a breathy: "Oh my dear God YESSSS!" and with that being no form or fashion of denial, I continued my slow advance.

She was crazy freaky tight as her first three inches of lower bowel gripped down so firm it made my shaft ache as it collapsed my urethra and I knew by the way she was working those muscles that she was no stranger to anal, but I still took my time for the benefit of us both.

Instead of trying to bury it balls deep all in one long thrust, I decided to work a little in, back some out. .. and then give her a little more on each advance. I wanted to take that time. I wanted to savor every inch of what was in front of me: “after all” I thought: “She’s not about to run away. .. we’re on a boat!”

As I reached the point where my ball sack contacted her moist vaginal lips, I slowly and progressively picked up the pace until I was able to achieve “the stride” and she was on fire.

As soon as the front of my thighs were slapping the firm cheeks of that ass, my swinging balls were hammering her plump outer lips and just as my inner most need to ejaculate blossomed out of control, she started to convulse in one gynormous powerful earth shattering full anal orgasm.

I’m telling you her entire body was instantly drenched in sweat and she growled out one scary reaction as if a woman possessed: "FUUUU-UU- UUK MEEEE-EE-EEE!!!" in a deep sub-creature voice so bizarre, that it was hard to believe it came from such a tiny woman.

And I abruptly stopped balls deep and as I unloaded my man seed deep in her bowel, her vaginal discharge exploded with such a vengeance that her warm and viscous fluid literally blew from vaginal slit in a force so strong that it actually moved my hanging balls, only to run off of my loins before pooling to soak into sheets beneath us.

But with a little firmness still left, I continued on as she shivered and shook in wave after wave of pure orgasmic fortitude and I knew from her repeated nonsensical banter ... that she had gone multiple.

Just as I sensed the commencement of her last, I pulled out and watched my totally spent member droop back against my wet sticky sack to reclaim its favorite place down in between my balls.

By then I was seeing little white fleck of light while fighting to fill the void in my burning lungs and I don't remember changing positions and turning around, but as the back of my head hit my pillow, my left arm went up over my head and she was snuggled up tight under my right: “Dear Lord” I thought: “I am done! But damn. .. all of this snuggling and spooning has got to be a women thing.”

e must have laid there speechless for what seemed to be hours, just listening to the sounds of my boat gently groan her approval for what I had just accomplished and when our labored breathing eventually came back to normal, she was sound asleep.

I continued laying there I guess for over an hour, contently petting and stroking the silky smoothness of her petite nude body as she slept; but when she finally did stir, it seemed she had need to momentarily focus on her surroundings, but after what I can only guess was her approval, she went back to sleep.

It seemed to be a good while before she finally spoke: "That always makes me hungry, let me go and see what I can come up with for a late dinner" and she was the first to sit up and to my pleasant surprise, she playfully nuzzled my soiled manhood.

I just laid there in awe, I was feeling total pleasure from that gesture while rubbing her little ass, and then she was up pulling my gauze shirt on over her head with a youthful energy that I admired.

I started the downdraft grill to do our steaks and I brushed them with olive and added some kosher salt and cracked black pepper when she asked: “Hey wouldn’t you rather let me do that?”

"No Rhonda, I love this and other than this boat, and maybe great sex, cooking is my true passions. I just wish I had some of my fresh herbs with me this trip" and as I grinned I added: “but I wasn’t exactly expecting a dinner guest to impress.”

She took a brief pause and responded: "You really didn't answer me when I asked earlier if you live on this boat, Lord knows it's big enough."

Then I explained: "No, my primary home is in Oyster Bay and a short time ago I inherited a fine home in Colonial Gables that I kind of lease out short term at times, but only to one close friend."

Seemingly somewhat confused by that answer, she remained silent and surprisingly (for her) she didn't respond, so I turned to look at her.

Her expression was one of true bewilderment, then she grinned and after a moment of careful consideration (as if she were choosing the right way to ask) she finally spoke: "Peter!. .. Peter?. .. Oh my God man! You are Peterswiftt! Right?

Shocked over her sudden revelation, all I could answer with was: "Well. .. well yeah?. .. why so surprised and how is it that you would even know that?"

"My daughter Amanda works for you! She manages and keeps the one lease house clean for your Lady tenant, your town office and she actually cleans the very home that you live in. My god man, WHAT a small world we live in. Why she told me all about you when she came up for my parole hearing. .. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for you taking such good care of her and seeing to it that she had a job and a place to live!. .. You truly are a special, special man!"

THE INTRUSION ORDEAL

Robert Duriavig