Goldenrod Ch. 06

After my defeat by Karen, I wanted to disappear, and I didn't care where I wound up. While reading the paper I found a classified ad for an assistant mechanic on a fishing boat docked in the harbor. They sounded desperate, and no experience was necessary, so I informed my advisor I was taking a semester off, and walked to the bay. When I got to the gangplank I told a sailor why I'd come and he ushered me on board to the bridge, where I met the first mate. He gave me the wage and how long I would probably be doing it, and led me to the engine room. The job wasn't centered on fixing anything, but required me to stand at a display console and watch a bunch of gauges, all of which were in German. If anything went haywire I was to sound a whistle, and the real technician somewhere in the ship's bowels would stop tinkering. After things went back to normal, I blew the horn twice more, and he resumed his service. This involved standing in a loud, steamy dungeon completely alone every day as the slave of an enormous machine. It was ideal.

As days passed I grew used to the situation. The mechanic never showed himself, but without fail the works would slumber whenever I gave the alarm, and they would start up when I gave the all-clear. The outside world didn't seem to exist in that cramped sauna, and I lost a little excess weight to the heat. I was hidden for a while at least, and when the engagement ended I knew I could find another one like it. No one could get to me.

Three weeks into this routine, the engines stopped completely. The longest pause in their running until then had lasted six or seven minutes, but this episode had gone on an hour when I decided to do something. I didn't want to go on deck in case everything began with nobody at my post to give warnings, but I couldn't stand there any longer while nothing happened, so I crawled into the depths of the beast to find the mysterious repairman.

It was when rounding a corner that I had my first glimpse of her, while she was hunched at a wrench that had been fixed to a giant bracket bolt. She was twisting it in a form-fitting black tank top tucked into gray boxer briefs, and nothing else except some oily war paint. Her hair was done up in a dirty bandanna, but a few tendrils of filthy, tangled brown sprang from it. I stood in a trance, captivated by her physique. The level shoulders beneath the straps were immense, and the restrictive fabric subsumed her breasts in the curves of her pectorals. Both of her arms and her trunk were wide, solid, and springy, though her pale, freckly skin lacked any muscular definition. Large, strong thighs flexed over thick, taut ankles, and her bare feet gripped the ground like puma paws. Not so much straining as firmly coaxing the stuck bar in repeated pulls, her focus was too narrow to include me while I watched her back tighten and loosen in the cycle of her movements. Suddenly she stepped out of profile to address the problem from a different perspective, and I caught sight of a bulge in her shorts that was the shape of a strapped-on dildo, which projected to a point near her left hip two inches above the waistband. My jaw dropped, and when I looked up at her she was mirroring my stare. Unfurling her fingers and replacing them on the handle but still looking at me, she drew up on the stubborn device, letting her big, capable chest puff out in my direction. This jolted me to my senses, and I retreated to my panel of dials.

Crouching there for several minutes I almost hyperventilated, not sure if that dick bound in cotton was an hallucination, a message from the sorority house, or just random chance. With my mind whirling, I tried to find the right course of action. At once I heard a terrible clang from the direction of her station, and then some dull whirring. Around me the dingy room came to life, as the engine started functioning. I reflexively checked the meters, and found nothing in the red. All the levels were still elevated, but they appeared to be declining very slowly. She had mended it.

"Ha ha! Alright," I cheered, even though I knew my stay aboard that vessel had most likely come to an end. "Yes!" Then I turned, and found her standing patiently at the door. "Well done,"

I said quietly.

In her right hand she carried the hefty wrench I'd seen her wield, and in her left an old coffee can that contained stiff globs of grimy red gel. Slung at her shoulder was a long, rotten shirt sleeve. Protruding from the unbuttoned hole of her underwear was a translucent rubber cock of disturbing length. Her eyebrows went up, expectantly.

"Look, I can't," I stammered. Without hesitating she cast the wrench at the wall, and flung the rag beside it. Then she tossed the cylinder to my feet. A chunk of the lubricant rolled from it to the floor by me. She put her hands on her hips. "Please," I whined, but it was no use. The dick nodded lightly at me. I inhaled deeply, and got on my knees.

I scooped up a generous wad of the substance and applied it carefully to the top of her dildo, scraping my hand clean as I ran it down the side of the shaft. Then I formed a circle with my fore and middle fingers and thumb, and slowly smoothed the lube over her in a rotating jack motion. Fro and to, base and head, I glorified her manhood as it bobbed an inch from my mouth, with my eyes on hers and she observing me. Adding two more dabs got it coated, and when I couldn't see an exposed spot on the jelly surface, I sat on my feet and folded my hands in my lap obediently. My gaze again found hers.

As she walked past me she grabbed my shirt at the collar and dragged me with her. I stumbled into a lope and trailed her to the desk, where she took my left arm in her left hand and spun me with enough zip that I doubled over it, so my back was to her. My arms scrambled for purchase among the papers and tools. She leaned her legs on mine to keep me in check. Her arms slunk around me and undid my belt.

"Oh," I moaned as the slithering dick smeared the seat of my pants.

When she had unzipped me she stepped away and bent low, keeping her knees locked, to drag the garment to the floor. Then she straightened and reached out for my hips to pull me to her with a magnitude of strength I had never experienced. I nearly bumped my skull on the blotter before planting my hands on it, and even then I was unsteady. Her foot pinned the bunched clothing that was binding my feet, and she lifted me deftly at the waist, leaving me in a t-shirt, socks, and sneakers. She kicked the mess away and returned me to the ground. That time I blanched at her ability, and a laugh escaped me.

"Wow." By then I was alert and had recovered my balance and dexterity.

Her hand guided the phallus to my hole. She seized on me at the thighs and merged us easily with one forward glide. My head shot up involuntarily.

"Breathe," she said, in a surprisingly feminine voice, and I complied. Rather than hump me, she let us sway together for minutes, to dissolve the differences of our identities. This was extremely relaxing, and I let my thoughts drift while she stirred us. I realized as I calmed how tense and wary I had been since Karen used me.

Despite her soothing and attentive intro, the woman's style of penetration wasn't tender or loving. Once she felt I was comfortable, her interest landed solely on my hips, which she maneuvered on and off her cock with no more effort than she'd make in handling a basketball. As though weighted, my upper half, head and limbs flailed pathetically in each shock wave generated by the concealment with my ass of her rod. Like a heartbeat the action consisted of a pair of contractions, one pulling me all the way to her before replacing me at the end of the dick, and the other an aftershock caused by her grip halting my slide off the skewer. One-two, one-two, the swinging persisted that way for ten minutes.

She gave me three vigorous prods and made a quick about-face with me as if it were I that was strapped to her, and I squealed at her athleticism. Her left palm fell on my back and jackknifed me so that my knuckles smacked the ground. The proud straightness of her spine reasserted itself and I was rattled by the collisions of my manipulated rear and her sharply darting pelvis, with the hunting cock galloping inside me and her face fixed intently atop her corded neck muscles. Those thrusts came also in twos. When she was satisfied with that, she put her left knee on the ground and met it with the right one, collapsing and depressing me in the process absentmindedly, as though she had forgotten I was there. While I feebly attempted to align my calves, she planted the balls of her left foot on the floor beside me, and her right one in the opposite position. Stained and cold, the hard ground didn't faze her, but the warm snugness of her crotch clamped to my ass by her energetic thighs made my heart race and my toes curl. Next, she draped her heavy arms over my ribs so that her fingers could creep down onto my shoulders to hold me securely. Then, she took me for an hour.

Popping up from her wrestler's pose, she set the dick flopping freely, and I fell on my right forearm. Surveying my crumpled form, she smirked.

"No loafing on the company dime." She stooped and hoisted me to my feet by my elbow. "Come on," she urged. When she stood me up to face her I squinted through fatigue, and the terror of realization chilled me.

"You're kidding," I sobbed.

"Yes, I am."

I was picked up by the armpits and my rear end was placed on the desk.

"No more."

"There, there." The cock stoked my anus, and entered. I groaned. She lifted me to her, impaling me. "Wrap your legs around me. Tighter." My ankles crossed on her ass.

"Who are you?" I asked sourly. At that, she smiled. Her hands clasped my waist and brought me briskly onto the stationary dildo with mechanical regularity, making me gasp. One of my shoes was knocked loose by the shaking, but she never vacillated, slacked her erect posture, or narrowed her broad stance. Five more minutes of being used to hide her cock was enough to send thin tears lining my cheeks. All of my endurance had gone. The fucking stopped, and she wiped the salty water away with her thumb. The woman looked at me silently, and I hugged her neck. Finally, she continued bouncing me.

"It's so good," I whispered.

Half an hour later, I was on the desk, examining the ceiling. She stood, stroking her glorious cock out of me for one second and into me for two, rocking me on my ass and shoulders, with her mighty forearms clutching my thighs to her belly. Her insistent lurching compelled me to tilt my face away from her, as if she were nudging me to look at something. I saw the wall of dials with labels I couldn't read but could understand by their color-coding, all needles sinking to the green zones with jerky reluctance. Among them one was most active, dipping to OK for intervals twice as long as those for which it rose to CAUTION, but none of them said DANGER anymore. In sync with the positive forecast, the dark, bulky member tunneled in, and with the wavering to yellow its slippery girth left me. My breath ran out when I made the connection between events. A slow, graceful dive into safety and a pause were followed by a fluttering removal to neutrality. Gradually the pressure dropped, and the pointer settled gently at zero. The shirt she wore stretched audibly as she swelled, and I heard her grunt softly through her pursed lips. My ass was filled. Raising my head I saw her jaw jut out as she pressed at the already buried phallus. When she caught me looking, her determination gave way to a self-conscious grin.

"That should do it," she judged. The great breadth of her frame obsessed my vision. "How do you feel?"

"Better."

"Up for a more strenuous activity?"

"I'll do whatever you say."

Standing half bowed with my wrists held fast behind me, I received a succession of pumps that were as spirited as her manhandling of me during the first insertions, but I was numbed to pain and exhaustion at that point. She remained stable as an oak, cushioning my backward reverberations, and reining me without visible exertion of her upper arms or chest. Our proximity didn't hinder utilization of the entire the dildo, though its size necessitated that I fall a full foot away from her before she tugged me back onto the shaft. Each landing was perfectly precise, and I felt no more strain on one part of my rim than I did on any other. That ended when she moved her hands to my hips and gave about fifty long lunges, those booming in at roughly one per second. I cried "Oh," in ecstasy with every thud.

To finish, she once more picked me up with the two of us joined, and lowered my front onto the desk. She stood up on her toes and let her belly cover me, resting her hands flat on the table at my midsection, so that she was mounted like a wild animal. There were jabs from the dick, but they immediately tapered into a constricted rutting which tenaciously gathered steam. That time she spared her cool, and showed off what her body could do. Her awareness traveled to her lower half, leaving her arms to automatically suspend that fleshy torso in a strongman's top, and concentrated like a star of creative force in her nether region. Literally thinking with the other head, her total range of options became "push in and pull out," and all of her vast physical powers were slaved to those goals.

Pummeled barbarically, I went into convulsions. My ejaculation was lost in cascading spasms, and if it weren't for stains on the engineer's documents I might never have known that I came. When I found my wits I put both hands on the wall to brace my pelvis from cracking against the wooden structure under me. Her rigorous upward strokes culminated in three, drawn out, closing thrusts accompanied by primal screams. Instantly she withdrew from me and steadied herself with a hand on the far wall, as she regained her composure. Then she collected her wrench and can of lubricant, and left me.

As I fastened my belt she walked into the room, this time without the dildo sprouting from her sporty undies but wearing a tattered pair of gray cargo shorts.

"Here," she said, and put a cord around my neck. Attached to it was a small navigational compass. "In case you get lost again."

She saw me to the ladder well, and closed the engine room's door behind me. I ascended eight steps to the light.