Alan Impregnates at Sea

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Alan was enjoying his life as a sea-going engineer in the Merchant Navy. He was good at his job, and had received regular promotions, and he still enjoyed the challenge of being in charge of huge diesel engines and all the ancillary equipment that goes to make up the motive power for a large ship. His current ship was getting long in the tooth, having been built in the mid nineteen thirties, and re-engined in the late forties, and now in the late fifties was getting towards the end of it’s life. The era of the ships combining passengers and cargo was coming to an end, as the growth of air travel reduced the numbers of passengers for long sea voyages, and before too long specialist cruise ships and huge containerised cargo ships would change the whole pattern of shipping. However, there were still enough passengers making the voyages and treating them as holidays to keep the old ships going for a bit, and even some new ships of this type were being built.

Life as an engineer at sea had a fair number of pluses and minuses, as do most jobs. While the work was interesting, it was by no means easy. The engine room temperature was controlled by the sea temperature, and when that rises above 30° Centigrade the engine room can be well above 50°. That makes just doing the minimum of work involved in watch keeping hard, and, in the event of a repair being needed involving considerable physical effort, it wasn’t a fun job. However, in more temperate climes it was a reasonable working environment and the watches passed quickly, especially if the senior engineer was of a reasonable disposition, just one of the lads, rather than like some of the older autocrats.

This trip had started well for Alan. He had been promoted again and, as well as giving him more responsibility and job satisfaction, he had graduated to a better cabin, still small but giving him a bit more room which made for better parties, if any willing passengers could be persuaded to join in the festivities. The bunk was also a bit wider than that in the junior cabins, and I don’t need to explain what an advantage that could offer.

The benefits of the enhanced bed space was shown rather more quickly than would normally have been expected. At the beginning of a trip it usually took some time to get to know the passengers, and scope out the possibilities of amorous activities, but this time Alan had advance knowledge of one potentially willing partner. On an earlier trip he had enjoyed the company of a middle aged lady who had been more than happy to share his bed. A few days before this trip she had written to him to say that her friend was planning to make a journey on the ship, and would he like to look after her. When he read this he was a bit taken aback, as he assumed that this would mean that she would be an innocent who he couldn’t very well try to bed. However, he replied politely that he would do as requested and soon got another letter thanking him, but with a PS saying “By the way, I’ve told her what a stud you are in bed, and she can’t wait to check for herself”.

When the passengers began to board the ship Alan, who was off watch at the time, scanned them till he picked out the appropriate woman from the photo he had been sent. He introduced himself, saying that perhaps when she was settled in her cabin they might meet for a drink. He was a bit startled when she said she thought he did his entertaining at midnight, but he grinned and said there were other times as well. They met at the bar, but Alan could not stay long as he had to go onto Stand By.

When a ship is entering or leaving port, and needs to manoeuvre, several engine start/stop and reversing activities may be required and it was normal that an extra watch of engineers should be on duty, this time being known as Stand By. At the start of a voyage both the off duty watches would be called so that all the engineers would be in the engine room at a time when the engines were being run in anger for the first time after shore gangs had worked on them, and when errors of omission or commission were at their likeliest. For this reason Alan had to go to the engine room, where he would stay till the ship was clear of port and he could come up for a brief period to eat his dinner before going back on watch from eight until midnight. Happily all had gone smoothly and after a brief time it felt as though this was just a continuation of the last trip. At the end of a trouble free watch, he spent a happy half hour on the boat deck with the rest of the watch, drinking a beer or two and watching the lights of the English Channel coast recede into the darkness.

The lady he had met was called Kathleen, and, despite her having joked about him entertaining at midnight, he didn’t make contact with her until the next afternoon, when he met her on deck leaning on the rail watching the sea go by – well, it doesn’t actually go anywhere, but you get the idea. After some idle chatter, he invited her to come to his cabin for a cup of tea, to which she almanbahis adres agreed, though the look on her face might have made him think that she suspected that he might have planned something more than tea. He ordered tea from the officers’ steward, and after it arrived they sat and had some more idle chatter while they were feeling their way with each other, till she took the opportunity to shift the subject to a more interesting basis.

“This woman with whom I am sharing a cabin tells me she reads palms and has promised to tell me my future”.

“That must be useful, reading palms – if you believe in that sort of thing”.

“It would be more useful to be able to read minds – I’d like to be able to do that. Mind you, I think I can a bit anyway.”

“I’m not sure I’m that keen on having my mind read”.

Kathleen thought for a few moments, before expounding her ideas. “I think it goes something like this – This middle aged woman that Louise has landed me with looks reasonably wholesome and could provide horizontal entertainment for a few days, so what’s the best approach? She’s heard about what Louise and I did together so she must be prepared for trying out my bunk, but how will she react to a direct approach? Will she expect me to spend a few hours in pretend seduction and get all uptight if I rush it – what sort of woman do you think I am and so on? Or would she respond favourably do the ‘Do you want to fuck?’ tactic?”

Alan burst out laughing.

“So let me read your mind like this – Louise says this man is good in bed and he looks quite a pleasant chunk of masculinity, so do I play hard to get – not very hard, obviously – or do I let him know I’m ready and willing and risk him thinking I’m just a slut?”

She giggled at this fairly accurate reading.

“I shouldn’t admit it, but that’s a pretty accurate understanding. There’s a bit more that you couldn’t have guessed at. When I tell you that you needn’t use a condom, do I tell you that it’s because I’ve got an IUD fitted or admit that I hope to get pregnant?”

“Bloody hell, that poses two questions – first, what the hell is an IUD?”

“Inter Uterine Device – a gizmo that’s fitted in the entrance to the womb and stops a woman getting pregnant – which I haven’t got. Next?”

” You don’t seriously want me to get you pregnant, do you? That raises all sorts of potential problems. I mean, what’s your husband going to say? You did say you were married, having a little dalliance with a sailor is one thing, brining home his child is another altogether”.

“Jim and I have been trying to start a family for years, with no luck, and I’m getting desperate the nearer I get to forty. We’ve talked about options, because the doctors say there is nothing wrong with us, just his sperm and my eggs don’t want to hold hands. He has said that, if I get pregnant, he won’t ask questions about how it happened, so I’m willing to try if you’re willing. And, being honest, I quite fancy the idea of having it off with another man. I’ve always been faithful, but only in body, not entirely in spirit – I’ve certainly had interesting fantasies about other men, now I’d love to try the reality. Has that put you off?”

“As long as my involvement is only in the procreation bit that’s fine, I certainly don’t want to know after that.”

“Well, now we know where we are – I’m willing and I hope you are able, now can we test your bunk?”

“Sounds like a good way to spend an hour or so. Seeing that we are being practical about this and so we can get the maximum enjoyment, can I just establish the ground rules?”

“Ground rules?”

“Yes, tell me what you like and, more important, what you don’t like in the way of love making”

“Love making! That sounds much nicer than fucking, or any of the other words used to describe sexual intercourse. I’m willing to try anything, though I don’t fancy any of the sadomasochistic stuff I’ve read about. You don’t plan anything like that, I hope.”

“Doesn’t appeal to me, though I did spend time with one lady who only got going if she had her bottom smacked.”

“Did you do it?”

“Half heartedly, I think I was a bit of a let-down for her, but I’m a bit paranoid about men hitting women. When I was little my dad saw me hitting a girl and he gave me the biggest hiding you can imagine. I’d pointed out that she was bigger than me, and that she hit me first, but it didn’t help. He just said – boys don’t ever hit girls, and I guess that was a life lesson for me.”

“Good for him, I don’t wish to be hit. Mind you, I’m not delicate, you don’t have to be too gentle with me. Now, how about stopping the talking and starting the action.”

As she spoke, she stood and peeled off her tee shirt, then undid her skirt and let it drop to the ground. This revealed a set of black undies, the bra a lacy concoction supporting a substantial bust, the upper slopes of which were pleasantly exposed, while the knickers were of a silky material with almanbahis adresi wide legs, through which her suspenders hung, holding up black nylons covering very shapely legs.

“You look absolutely gorgeous in those undies – it seems a shame to take them off. Not that I’m saying you won’t look pretty good without them, if you follow me.”

“That was a smart bit of recovery to get yourself out of the hole you’d just dug. Glad you like the lingerie – I bought it specially on the off-chance it might get shown off. Makes a change from my normal slightly grey knickers and bra. I’ll keep them on for a bit if it amuses you.”

She climbed up onto the bunk and watched as Alan slipped off his shirt and shorts, showing off his well muscled torso and legs. He left on his boxers, which bulged in a very pleasant way indicating substantial contents within. He mounted the bunk and lay beside her, resting on one elbow, smiling at her.

“I normally do a bit of kissing and cuddling before getting to the undressing stage, and I must say you have very kissable lips, so shall we make up for lost time?”

“Yes, kissing sounds attractive, but not my lips just now. There are lots of other places I like being kissed, we’ll both know when it’s the moment to lock lips.”

Alan was intrigued by this woman’s total lack of reserve. He wondered just how much experience she had had of different men, whether she had put herself about somewhat promiscuously, but guessed correctly that it was just that she was self confident and knew just what she wanted. After all, considering how many different women he had bedded, he wasn’t in a position to make judgements.

He gently placed his hand on her breast, cupping the warm flesh still enclosed in the lacy fabric. As he gently squeezed her his fingers roamed across till he felt the slight bump of her nipple. Rather than caress her, his fingers pinched and pulled the sensitive flesh, then he quickly dropped his head and bit down gently on the other nipple. She squealed at the sudden attack, but did nothing to stop him, and as he drew the nipple into his mouth his tongue raked across it, and when he looked down he saw the nipple firmly aroused and clearly visible through the wet fabric. He dropped his hand and cupped her sex, covered in the silky cloth, then his probing fingers quickly slid between her legs, and he could feel the groove of her vaginal lips, and felt that the cloth was already damp from her secretions. He pushed his fingers firmly against her, pushing the knicker gusset deeply between her lips while his thumb sought out the just discernible bump of the clitoris.

As soon as he started to invade her sex, he felt her hand enclose the bulge of his already aroused penis, and her fingers groped through the fly of his boxers and held the length of his shaft, then drew it out through the fly. She continue to pull at him, and, without any discussion, he realised that she was ready for him. He moved his fingers on her crotch and drew the knicker leg open, then as he moved on top of her she guided him into her waiting lips. As soon as he felt the warm wetness beginning to enclose him, he thrust forward hard and his cock dived deep into her canal. He recalled her saying that he needn’t be too gentle with her and immediately began to fuck her hard and fast. She was more than ready for him and he felt her body pushing back against him, then felt her hand slide behind his neck and pull his head down to lock his lips with hers. With his tongue deep in her mouth and his cock deep in her pussy, this was not going to last long, and, as his sperm was ejected deep inside her, her body rose up against his as she reached her orgasm.

They slowly subsided, and finally he lifted his torso and his cock slid out of her hot wetness, followed by a dribble of semen loaded fluid. She smiled happily up at him.

“Well, that was a good start. I haven’t had a cock up my knicker leg since Cyril Wilson took my virginity on the back seat of his Ford Escort. Do you mind if I finish undressing now?”

“Please do.”

Which she duly did, disclosing a very pleasant body, which was to give him considerable pleasure until she left the ship at the first major port of call. And that was the start of a very pleasant voyage. The icing on the cake, perhaps, was a letter he received nearly a year later. Inside was a photograph of Kathleen with her husband and holding a very young baby. On the back of the photo it just said “Alan – thanks a million. Kathleen”

But Kathleen turned out to be just the entrée in a most enjoyable sexual meal, which also had very unexpected afters, as one might say.

As usual, as far as after work activity was concerned, it was off with the old and on with the new, and as soon as the ship was at sea again Alan took the first opportunity to go on the passenger deck trawling for new talent. He soon caught sight of a very attractive young woman, who was sitting with an older and far less attractive girl. She almanbahis adres had already attracted the attention of two of his mates, who were obviously trying out their smoothest chat lines on her while paying little attention to her companion. Alan knew better than to attempt to intrude – the first come, first served rule was strictly observed, which avoided any unpleasantness among one’s fellows. He was leaning on the rail with a beer on his hand and not far from a middle aged woman, who noticed him looking at the pretty girl.

“Pretty little thing, isn’t she.” she said

Alan looked at her and back at the girl and guessed that they were mother and daughter.

“Your daughter?”

“How did you guess?”

“She takes after her mother.”

“You’re a smoothie, aren’t you. Aren’t you going to join in the hunt?”

“Pretty young girls are usually a waste of time. I’d be more likely to go after her friend.”

“On the basis that there’d be not much competition and she’d probably be grateful.”

“Oh my, that’s a bit brutal, but true, of course. On the other hand, more grown up ladies have lots of potential.”

He wisely refrained from adding that older ladies also tended to be grateful.

“You’re not trying to chat me up, young man, are you?”

“And if I was?”

“You’re a cheeky young sod, and you’d be wasting your time. But there is something that you can do for me, as penance for your cheek. My husband has told me that I should ask to make a visit to the engine room or the bridge, can you arrange it for me, please?”

“Well, not the bridge. If you notice the rank bars on my epaulettes you’ll see a purple line, which means I’m an engineer, not one of the riff raff who never get their hands dirty, and I can take you below and show you what keeps the ship moving.”

“Oh, that’s so good of you.”

“Mind you, it’ll cost you.”

“I knew there would be a snag. How much?”

“A pint of beer and a big kiss.”

“It had better be worth it, or I’ll complain to the captain.”

“He’d be impressed, I’m sure. By the way, I’m Alan.”

She laughed, and told him that she was Helen, and they carried on chatting until it was time for him to go and eat an early dinner before going on watch. He found her company entertaining, and thought that, even if he didn’t get her into bed, she would be nice to talk to, in the event that no more likely bed company was available, which, to his experienced eye looked unlikely. Not only that, she bought him a couple of beers – a down payment, she said – which was always a good thing in its own right.

Next day he met Helen outside the officers’ accommodation. He was wearing a clean white boiler suit which was kept for non working visits into the engine room, as against the oil stained grey – originally white – garments worn for working. She arrived wearing sensible flat shoes below a knee length cotton skirt and blouse. He was very aware of the environment which she would soon be visiting, and that she would be walking along open platforms above whoever happened to be working below, with the probability of displaying rather more of her charms than she intended,

“I rather think you’d be better off wearing trousers or shorts – you might feel a bit exposed dressed like that.”

“Strangely, I don’t have any shorts and I only wear trousers in mid winter if it’s really cold, so I’ll just risk giving your colleagues a flash or two”

“So be it – don’t say you weren’t warned.”

He led her into the officers’ accommodation and opened the door leading to the engine room. That was the first shock for her, as she met the blast of noise as the door opened. They stepped through and into the lift, which descended through a growing roar of the engines accompanied by the smell of fuel oil and hot machinery, all in a temperature in the high forties (that’s centigrade, of course). As the lift dropped between the two main engines, she could see through the lift door grill the mass of machinery on either side.

Now for a few geeky paragraphs which may be easily ignored.

They stepped out at the bottom onto the control platform, situated between the two engines at crankshaft level. Someone with experience only of modern ships, where all the controls are centralised into a control room and the all the machinery is monitored remotely, and the engineers wear hard hats and ear defenders, would be amazed at the simplicity of the controls of these old ships. Basically, each engine had two control levers, one of which determined whether the engine was going forwards or backwards. the other , when pushed forwards let high pressure air into the cylinders to start the engine turning, after which it was pushed further forward to open the fuel valves to start the engine. The position of this lever also controlled the engine speed which was indicated on a big tachometer. The other major feature was the telegraph, a big brass quadrant with a needle controlled from the bridge, indicating what speed to run the engines and in which direction. When a speed change was required the needle would move and a bell ring, at which the lever would be moved to coincide with the needle, all this being seen in reverse on the bridge.

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