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Guinness, Part 4
by Sparky
Well, back to reality. So much for basking in the post-ejaculatory splendor! I guess you could say the memorable moment sort of “came and went”. Alexssandor grabbed the pole (my pole—fishing pole that is) locked the spinning line, and then began reeling in whatever was on the other end of the line.
I just stood and watched him in action. Good form! I was lost in contemplation…not what was on the other end of the line…what had just happened. Watching him standing there, leaning over and seeing for all intensive purposes—a perfect ass moving provocatively before me, the last thing on my mind was that damn wriggling fish. In my mind, it was already a done deal—how delightfully impossible—but a thrilling self-indulgence anyway.
A few moments passed…don’t’ even have a clue how many…and Alexssandor was pulling up an amazingly big wriggling fish…yeah, I thought secretly, “I’d like to see something else wriggling!” I had no idea what we’d caught, but he sure was excited.
“Dinner for four!” he shouted. He unhooked the poor devil and threw it on ice in a cooler I’d not seen him bring on board. I didn’t want to expose my ignorance, so I didn’t ask what kind of fish it was. I’d only seen Pompano, Dolphin (not related to Flipper) and Yellowtail, and I knew it wasn’t one of those. Besides, if Alexssandor didn’t know, who was I to embarrass him?
All this activity…not just reeling in the fish…made us both thirsty. Alexssandor asked if I was ready for a cold one. I assumed the “go and fetch” position and was turning to head for the galley. Alexssandor stopped me, “I’ve got just the thing for the occasion.” And he disappeared. I just sat back down on the fishing chair. It was then I noticed that my ass sort of slid on the vinyl. I thought to myself, “close only counts in horseshoes, no cigar.” I was confused; I fantasized about that “cigar”, but was relieved it didn’t happen—just then.
Alexssandor returned with an ice bucket, filled and covered with a white towel. My taste buds were thinking…champagne. He whisked off the towel and there stood four bottles of Guinness! Well, no matter, it was cold, wet and I was sure as hell thirsty. He took of the caps and handed me the first one…these babies were ice cold! He saw my surprised reaction and proudly said, “Yeah, little secret…rock salt in the ice!” Now I know it’s probably sacrilege to drink Guinness that cold—I mean there’s even a school people go to learn how to properly pour the stuff…it takes years! Personally, I’m not that patient—and we were both thirsty. We indulged ourselves—straight out of the bottle! Two—three-four healthy swallows…suddenly I got a headache and my throat felt like it iced up…sort of like when you eat ice cream too fast. I just stood their breathing through my mouth—taking in as much warm air as possible to remedy the pain.
“Told you it works!” he taunted. I was instantly irritated, I don’t really know just what possessed me at the moment, but I put my finger over the top of the bottle, gave it a couple quick shakes, and sprayed him with the stuff.
It still had to be pretty cold…Alexssandor jumped backward. “That’s pretty much how my throat feels—get the picture?”
Alexssandor’s response was immediate. He hadn’t drunk as much of the stuff…and I got more than my just due. Now we were both covered in the amber sticky stuff (granted we were sticky already). We were both instantly cold…don’t ya’ know the remedy. Alexssandor laughed and lunged for me, pulling us together…sticky, wet, smelling of sweat, cum, and Guinness. Now I’ve known that Guinness generates quite a head…but you should have felt Alexssandor’s! He was rock hard instantly…and he had the same effect on me.
He was licking off some of the Guinness from my neck, I followed suit. Then he went lower…lower…lower. He was apparently enjoying the mixture. I thought about it, but before I could try a taste, he dove overboard. I followed. We horsed around in the cool water for a short while, and then came back aboard. We rewarded ourselves with another iced Guinness…but this time we just drank it, laughed and contemplated the preparation of our lucky catch. (He still didn’t tell me what kind of fish it was).
We just lazed around for another few more minutes in the sun, and were starting to notice the afternoon heat again. Alexssandor got up and quietly disappeared while I had my eyes closed in a blissful trance. The trance abruptly ended…the wet spray felt cool…refreshing…but too much like warm Guinness! I was covered with the stuff. Alexssandor handed be the other bottle…I responded in kind. Deja vue, we were entangled again…this time just sweet sweat and Guinness. He tongue started the exploring. Next thing I knew, we were both prone on the deck. He flipped me around and we continued our Guinness appreciation.
Did I mention Guinness gives a good head?
Alexssandor was certainly a seasoned expert at Guinness appreciation. Heady self-indulgence…and an accomplished cock sucker! Me thinks he’s done this before. Ever added salt to a beer…and watch it foam up? It tastes pretty good too. The Guinness hadn’t completely worn off when we both were adding something salty to the mixture. Sweet nectar!
We took another refreshing dip in the water, then pulled anchor and headed “home”. Besides, we were out of Guinness, anyway. The entire day we’d not seen another boat even remotely close to us. It’d been wonderful… On the return trip, we cruised almost the entire journey back before encountering another craft. The house was perhaps a quarter mile away when this other fishing boat drew close on the port side, apparently headed out to sea. I looked at Alexssandor and started to head for the galley to fetch our shorts, but his hand stopped me.
“Relax, it’s only Rickie. He’s got that old bucket running again. Probably getting away from his old lady and goin’ fishin’”
I was amazed at Alexssandor’s complete lack of modesty. Rickie’s craft drew closer and ever closer. I was keenly aware of my nakedness and was feeling sort of self-conscious about it, but either it was Alexssandor’s cavalier attitude, or maybe the alcohol…I just went with the flow. He cut the motor to idle. Rickie pulled up along side.
“Look’s like you guys been havin’ some real fun.” He shouted. “What da ya think, mate? She sounds pretty good now?”
Alexssandor threw Rickie a line and we tied up. “Come ‘board and check her out. I’m not goin’ ta cut ‘er down. My luck she’d clam up.” Rickie was apparently proud of his mechanical resurrection. I couldn’t help but notice he was grit and grime free. He had on a pair of old shorts that weren’t very flattering, but they didn’t have to be. He was far more muscular and well built than I had recalled. He also looked much younger when he was relatively cleaned up.
Alexssandor just clambered aboard—still naked as a jaybird. Apparently this had no affect on Rickie, so I just followed suit. I guessed it was just a “man thing”. We got the two-cent tour, and Alexssandor returned to fetch the proper libation. He returned with the same ice bucket, covered with the same white towel. This time it contained a magnum of champagne and three glasses—okay, they were just regular glasses. We killed the bottle in less than a half-hour.
We got up to leave and head back. Alexssandor rose first. As he did so, Rickie reached out and grabbed him by his dick…weird way to help him up! “Cast of mate, back at ya’ later.” I got up too (without assistance) and we boarded our boat, then Rickie cast off our line to us, giving a “thumbs up”.
Alexssandor started her up, threw her in gear and Rickie’s boat disappeared. I didn’t even think about throwing on my shorts. We docked the boat, tied her up and took the fish, empty bottles and the rest of the trash into the house. Alexssandor stowed the miscellaneous gear and then grabbed the cooler. “I’ll clean this sucker. You’re makin’ dinner…cookbooks are over there if you need ‘em.” With that he was out the door headed dockside.
I watched him through the kitchen window…admiring his bronzed body…his bronzed naked body. This guy just didn’t care! I just had to admire him…a free spirit…unconcerned…oblivious…yet completely caring. He was infectious…captivating…mesmerizing! I set about checking out where things were in the kitchen—getting the lay of the land. I’d completely forgotten I was still naked too—until I shut the lower cupboard door. I let out a yelp…I saw stars…then I saw Alexssandor.
The worried look on his face evaporated when I reenacted my foolishness, while he placed the gutted fish on the counter. He broke out laughing—at my irritated expense—but I had to laugh too. He just bent down, kissed it and made it well.
I set about marinating the fish, covered it in foil and set it in the refrigerator. “Give it 30 minutes or so… We’d better clean up before dinner anyway.” Alexssandor didn’t say anything; he just extended his hand to mine and lead me away from the kitchen.
“Better shower with me, I’ll get your back.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“It is.”
“Lead on, my man.”
He did.
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