Abandon
Ship!: Part 2

Jemima
provides Davy with kinky new insights into female sexuality.

By Big galute. Listen to the Podcast Steamy Stories.

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"Davy if I could, I would marry you at this very
moment."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm serious."

I didn't answer, finally realizing that I was stuck on a
boat in the middle of the ocean with an insane woman.

"I don't know about God but I do know about the church
and the clergy that tell us about sins of the flesh, many of the clergy are the
biggest sinners amongst us." I stayed silent but knew that I'd heard many
men on the river saying the same thing.

"Why can our bodies do such things? Why does it feel so
wonderful when we do? Surely humans are designed to enjoy sex in whichever way
they want?"

I couldn't think of any answers to Jemi's words
but still thought she was insane.

"I know that I have a high spirit and enjoy doing the
things society tells me I mustn't, but that's not because I am bad but rather
because I am free and should be allowed to make up my own mind. All the men I
have ever been introduced to, have been vain, shallow, or stupid; sometimes all
three."

I listened to her profound words, but she wasn’t yet
done; "In a different situation we may never have met, or if we did we
would not have spoken. But you are different from them, we are stuck on this
little boat but you are sweetest, most sincere man I have ever met. I also
sense a wild free-spirit inside you, longing to get out."

Any doubts I had about Jemi's sincerity
disappeared as she kissed me, a soft, gentle, loving kiss. We molded together
as Jemi nuzzled her head into my chest and placed her leg across me,
causing me to harden and grow and causing Jemi to giggle.

"I love you, and I love your tallywacker."
She said before falling asleep.

I awoke to the early morning sun and to Jemi sitting
upright and smiling down at me, "Is it always that engorged in the
mornings?" She asked, her eyes roving down my body and her smile widening,
the mischievous glint back in her eye.

"Sometimes."

"I've been staring at it for ages, it twitches and
moves and you sometimes touch it in your sleep."

She placed her hand to my forehead and laughed, "Good,
no fever. Your face is so red I wondered."

I went to sit up but Jemi gently pushed me back
down, "Lay still, I want to study it awhile."

I could have refused and insisted that we got busy with the
sail but I was getting use to Jemi and knew there was no point.

"My friend Imogen says her husband's is short and fat,
with a rather musty, unpleasant smell." "Yours appears to be long and
fat and I could detect no unpleasant smells." Seeing my puzzled
look, Jemi said, "I smelt it whilst you were asleep. Actually it
was quite fascinating, I blew on it and it twitched. The bulbous gland at the
top appears to be the most sensitive, the thick shaft less so."

Laying there listening to my beautiful angel ruminate about
my appendage was exhilarating and highly arousing and I knew that I wished it
always to be so, I also knew that we needed to get sailing if we were to have
any chance of survival.

"I think we should hoist our sail." I suggested,
changing the subject.

"You're probably right." Jemi went quiet
and I think I detected a new glow to her cheeks. "Imogen says that when
her husband emits semen in the morning he is far more productive and it
assuages any foul humor he may have." "Would you like to emit some
semen?"

I nodded, unable to refuse. "Teach me how, so I would
know how best to do it." Jemi said.

I wanted to ask what else Imogen had said but dared not,
instead telling Jemi; “I just wrap my fingers around it and pull
back & forth, Like you did last night." She thought about
this for a while before asking, "Do you think of things when you do
it?"

"Sometimes, last night was the first time anyone else
has ever done it for me and I didn't need to think of anything."

"I like the name tallywacker but for the
purposes of my studies I will think of it as a penis, when you make love to me
it can be your tallywacker."

Before I could respond to this Jemi took my penis
in her hand, "It is heavier than I imagined, maybe more than a pound,
there is already fluid leaking out the top." Jemi ran a finger
of the other hand across the fluid, the sensation causing my penis to twitch
violently and me to take a sharp breath in. "Was that painful?" Jemi asked.

 "No, just sensitive. Almost ticklish, in a
way”

Jemi nodded as if storing this information away, she
then brought her fingers to her face "A slight smell of ammonia and mildly
salty flavor."

I was enjoying Jemi's hand on my penis but I
wasn't sure if I enjoyed being part of an experiment. She suddenly started
shaking it violently, "The muscle tries to resist and the penis becomes
harder, tell me, does that feel nice?"

"Slightly uncomfortable but not unpleasant."

 Jemi nodded and then started slapping my penis
hard against her open palm, until it became too rigid to maneuver. I told her
it was remarkably enjoyable.

"Do you think you could ejaculate from it?"

"I don't think so." She again nodded and placed
her palm on top and pushed down hard, causing me to yelp.

She looked at me, a wry smile and a shake of my head gave
her the answer. "Can we get to the emitting of semen before I fall into
foul humor?."

Jemi smiled at my light mockery and started to gently
stroke my penis.

"You're no good, Davy Arthur. When we get to dry land I
shall have to find other penis's to experiment on." She let me stew on
this for a moment, a serious expression on her face. As hurt and confusion
invaded my heart she finally smiled "But this is the only tallywacker I
ever want."

I closed my eyes and smiled as the feeling of Jemi's firm,
even strokes pulsed through me. The sensation became different, much warmer,
softer and smoother. This rhythm became affectionate.

A small gasp of pleasure escaped my lips and I opened my
eyes to the shocking sight of Jemi's mouth engulfing my penis, her
eyes alight with fire as she stared at me. She removed her mouth and sat
upright, her hard nipples clearly visible through her chemise.

"Let me guess, Imogen?" I asked.

"Indeed, she said the skin becomes too dry and
irritates, duck fat is too messy so one has to come up with other
solutions." The whole time Jemi was talking, her fingers were
making little circles on my glands, massaging her saliva in and causing my breath
to shorten and my sack to tighten.

"She must write you a lot of letters."

"Every night; once she has worn her rotter of a husband
out. Imogen and I attended Miss Rogers finishing school for
young ladies together, finishing school for the well-to-do young wenches more
like. There were no men enrolled, of course; but everyone was very daring,
Imogen being the most daring of all.

She married Viscount Fornsby one year ago, he's
fifteen years older than her and a complete deviant, not that Imogen is
complaining, I think she finally met her match."

"What other things has she written about?" Jemi smirked
before tapping the side of her nose, understanding what I really wanted to
know. Before answering she put more spittle onto her hand and resumed her
gentle stroking.

With a playful little upturn on her lips Jemi continued
"I can't tell you more of her letters, you would be too shocked and your
heart may well stop."

I couldn't hide my disappointment, causing Jemi to
laugh, "Are all men so obvious?"

Jemi's hand was moving slowly, eliciting a pleasant,
almost comforting feeling.

 Her thoughts seemed far away, eventually she said;
"My mother died when I was quite young and my father employed a wonderful,
elderly governess called Miss Gwendolyn Sharp, or ‘Gweny’, as I
affectionately called her. Gweny had been a governess her whole life
and had some rather unconventional views on education. She believed that the
female brain was equal too, and most probably superior too, that of the male.
'In my experience, young ladies brains are like sponges whilst young
gentlemen's brains are like rocks' was one of her favourite sayings."

"Gweny railed against the position of women in our
society, installing in me a feisty, questioning, free-spirit. As she got older
and became frailer she implored me to live my life to the full and to welcome
and relish new experiences. She died shortly after my eighteenth birthday and I
felt her passing greatly."

Jemi had never stopped frigging my shaft throughout her
story and the painful look of sorrow on her face changed to one of mirth as she
said "More spittle needed I fear."

"I thought Gweny had taught me everything but
Imogen has certainly widened my horizons."

"Gweny taught you how to have an open mind. Who
taught you how to use your hand so well?"

"I'm learning as I go and by the twitching of
your tallywacker I think I'm doing a good job."

She was right. She was doing a good job and I could feel my
explosion building, but I wanted to hear more of Imogen.

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