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I grabbed her swaying breasts, alternating between palming the firm flesh and tweaking the hardened nipples as she rode me, furiously pounding her pussy to three orgasms before I came, splashing her insides with what felt like quarts of jiz. Regaining the power of speech first, I looked over at Alice and said, “Wow!” “Wow, indeed!” she replied. “After all the ‘dry humping’ we did when we dated, it was great to finally ‘do the deed’.” “Yes,” I agreed, “although I wouldn’t exactly call what we used to do ‘dry humping’. More like ‘wet humping’, if you ask me.” ********************************** Alice and I first started dating in the tenth grade, when we were both sixteen. It was the late early seventies, and while the “sexual revolution” was allegedly in full swing, the reality was that most girls in high school were still saving themselves for marriage, especially in small towns like ours. While there was plenty of “petting” going on, very little of it involved actual touching of. Of course, being as big as I am in a world of men a foot shorter, it shouldn't have surprised me. The man came and greeted me as I came aboard his ship."Greetings," the man said warmly in a southern drawl, clasping my hand in a traditional outworlder handshake, "and welcome aboard."The man was Glenn Dupree, formerly a Lieutenant in the navy of the Confederate States of America. He was a little over six feet tall and just under two hundred pounds. He was dressed in linen tunic and pants, knee high boots and over his tunic he was wearing a padded jerkin. He was armed with a cutlass and a dirk."All goes well here?" I asked him glancing about at the construction going on aboard the vessel. I noted quickly that a forecastle of sorts had been built in the bow of the craft and that a mounting stood there for a ballista. I also noted that the vessel's poop deck had been raised and that there was a mounting on either side of the deck, secure to the railing for a smaller launcher than what was.
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