If the boats rockin’ don’t come knockin’

There are two things I’m superb at. Ruining romantic advances and corrupting the innocent men who approach me with them.

The Captain was one of those sweet, innocent dudes who just wanted to find Mrs. Right…and I’m not her…for him at least. The Captain is a well rounded man…he’s easy on the eyes, tall, lean and tan. Early 30’s, well educated, military reservist and rich.

Rich enough to own a 50ft yacht (that he lives on) a beautiful truck and some fancy ass motorcycle that he keeps in town along with his boat part time while also paying to moor it about 30 miles NE of me (where he keeps his truck).

In addition to this he’s just a genuinely sweet guy. Good natured and apparently a hopeless romantic…according to him his ex wife cheated on him because, “he’s too nice”…go figure.

So long story short, I end up at The Captains yacht and it is fucking gorgeous. It was like being in a hotel suite on water. Everything was dark wood and black. He offers me some scotch (neat) and I have to say, it wasn’t that bad…at least after the third one. By then I was feeling like “either fuck me or I’m calling a cab.” But he’s just being sweet. Making sure I was comfortable. Making sure I had enough to drink. Making sure I wasn’t getting sea sick…it was cute, but I’d had enough. I just came out and asked if we were gonna hookup or not. And he was shocked. Speechless. And stuttering.

He finally got out a meek, “yeah I’d like to but only if you want to.” And in that moment something came over me. I don’t know if it was the scotch, the wine from earlier or the floating hotel room I was in but I became this really aggressive person….I told him everything I wanted him to do. “Strip, turn around, put your hands on your hips, go get in bed and lay on your back.” I’m glad I took the time to appreciate his body…you could probably cut a diamond on the edges of his muscles.

When I got in bed with him I made him put his hands behind his head and told him touching was off limits and that the only way he could cum was if it was in my mouth or on my tits. When I said that he looked like a kid in a fucking candy store…so stupid and giddy.

I had to really take my time on him. For such a small body frame his dick was pretty big. Big enough that I had to stop about 15 minutes in and give my jaw a break…in that time I told him to stroke himself, but he wasn’t allowed to cum. Watching him watch me as he jerked himself off was a huge turn on. He had this intense look on his face and he refused to break my glance. When I finally felt comfortable enough to put him in my mouth again I took him all in. Down to the bone…I don’t think he’s ever been deep throated because he went nuts. He wrapped his legs around my lower back and squeezed. He didn’t say stop so I milked him with the back of my throat and that sent him over the edge. Next thing I know he’s grunting and thrusting into my mouth as his cum is sliding down my throat. That stupid giddy look returned when he opened his eyes and looked down the bed at me. It’s still sweet but kind of weird.

After he caught his breath, he said he felt bad that I didn’t cum but that it was exciting being with such a domineering woman. He told me he’s only ever gotten head a few times in his life because he always thought it was disrespectful to women. Also that he’s never hooked up without dating a woman for a few weeks…He said it felt strange just using me for my mouth.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him 99% of the time I’m usually the one being told what to do and swallowing enough cum to go swimming in….

I told him to make it up to me. To envision his ex wife and to hate-fuck me. He couldn’t do it and it’s probably a good thing too. With a cock like his he could have broke something. The sex was average, my blowjob was better. I’ll give him props for calling me a “dirty fucking cunt” over and over.

…That was a nice touch.

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