“Well, actually, not really.”

I said sincerely apologetically, as I looked up. I allowed a few seconds for the shock to register on his sweet, surprised face.

“What I would prefer to see”, I said slowly and emphatically, “is someone else’s hands on that.”

OK, OK, so I’m a cruel bitch. Sometimes, (actually most times), I say first and think later. But his sudden smile and sigh of relief told me I was dealing with someone with a sense of humour, and just in case I needed to make up for my evil little joke, I slid my right hand under the water and slipped it under his. Oh yeah. This boat had a rudder alright. This was no partial erection, it was gorgeously hard and bulging and pointing right at me. Not quite realising what I was doing I started gently running my hand up and down, feeling the flow of the water between his skin and mine. It was just instinct with this cock, I tell you. It was so smooth and confident, I knew instantly I wanted to play with it. Especially when my hand found the base of his shaft, and there wasn’t a single hair to get caught up in.

Awesome. I knew there’d been a reason why I’d shaved that morning. I thought it was just because it made me feel like more of a power-pussy in meetings, (which had worked, incidentally), but here it was about to prove even more fruitful. I couldn’t wait for the feel of the cool water on our hot bare skin…

I started to get a little carried away imagining how the night would progress, when I remembered that I had just grabbed a naked stranger’s cock after having exchanged about two sentences with him, and was suddenly considering the evening a fait accompli. Oops. I hope he didn’t mind. I ran my hand back up his shaft, and put a stop to my intrusive behaviour.

“Sorry about that.” I said with fake guilt and a grin. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

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Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope and that enables you to laugh at life’s realities. - Dr Suess