I woke to find Kitti giving me a hum job, and I mean that quite literally! She was humming something that could have been the Hungarian National Anthem for all I knew, while tongue-lashing my prick in her pretty mouth.

My voice was sincere when I asked her, “Lets turn aound here, Love, and I’ll return the favor!” When I latched hold of her clit I gave her a musical welcome to the Southland by humming “Dixie.”

If her writhing around were any indication she liked our music just fine! I mused perhaps she was a southern Hungarian and made a mental note to ask her later.

Her mouth felt so fine I wondered where the hell she had learned to bring a simple blow job to the level of an art? I decided I really didn’t want to know and laid back to enjoy the afterglow.

When our passion was spent I asked her if she’d enjoy riding to a local spot for breakfast and she was all for it. “What should I wear, Master?”

“Oh, something casual would be fine, Dear.” I informed her. “They do require some sort of footwear, though.”

Kitti pulled a pair of shorts over a sheer bikini that showed both her nipples and cameltoe, and grabbed a purse and some sandals. She headed for the garage, assuming we’d take one of the vehicles.

Instead I told her, “Let’s go out the back way, I think we’ll have more fun.”

As soon as we exited the house she caught sight of the large pool, then the neat little dory tied to the dock. “Those dorys are so much fun to sail in.” She said, “If you’re lucky enough to know someone who owns one.”

“Call me Mr. Lucky, then,” I responded, “I know you, and that one is yours. We’ll buy another so we can have fun racing them. We’ll take something a little faster this morning, though.”

I walked out onto the dock where the big boat was moored. “This boat was essentially built to the same specifications and by the same company as a Coast Guard 47-foot motor lifeboat, except I wasn’t limited by Congress as to what I could spend on her.”

“I paid a thirty year Coast Guard veteran of the boats to oversee every day of her construction. To say she is sea worthy is a serious understatement.”

Katalin’s pretty mouth was hanging wide open in shock! She stammered, “It’s a ship here in the lake!”

“No, not quite, Darling,” I confided, “Though she is one of the largest and most expensive motor yachts on the lake. Let’s warm the engines and generator, and I’ll pull up some videos on You Tube to show you what her Coast Guard sisters are doing in the ocean surf.”

I led the way to the enclosed pilothouse and both of the engines and the generator started immediately. I watched the gauges as Kitti enjoyed playing ship’s captain in the specially made chairs.

I pulled the United States Flag out and clipped her to a sturdy pole installed behind the exposed bridge. The sides of the vessel were painted attractively with the colors of the Lone Star State, but the stars and stripes flew proudly above them! We were now open and ready for business.

Contacting the internet on the computer, I pulled up the videos of other boats like ours charging into twenty foot plus surf and disappearing for seconds or shooting into mid air over a big wave.

Kitti was awe struck! “This boat could roll in the surf and bob up in ten seconds like those?”

“Yes, she would except she never will unless we take her down to the Gulf and chase a hurricane, or travel up to the north-east or north-west coasts.”

“I wanted a super safe, high performance fishing boat I could depend on, and I’ve enjoyed every day on her. I’ll cast off the lines and we’ll go eat.”

Kitti spoke up brightly, “Your First Mate will help with that, Captain!”

“Just take the loops off the dock cleats and coil them on the deck, Sweetheart. They’re not long enough to cause trouble.” Within half a minute our boat was drifting free. We went back to the pilothouse and I applied power to one screw, then the other to jockey her away from the dock.

We stayed at a minimum speed until we were well away from the shoreline. My eyes stayed glued to the water ahead of us and the screen of our radar unit. It is very sensitive and will spot a canoe or kayak easily, but the signature of a swimmer is difficult to recognize, unless you know what you’re looking for.

I asked, “Are you enjoying this, First Mate?” I glanced quickly at Kitti, and she was grinning from ear to ear like a child! “I’ll let you take the con, the controls, later when we’re further away from traffic. If you’d like you can go out on deck or up onto the exposed bridge? The two controls there are identical to these two stations.”

“Master.” Kitti gushed. “I haven’t seen our bed, kitchen, or bath on board, but I don’t know which I love the most, my Master or my Captain!”

Of course I had to laugh with her! I took the precaution of slowing my speed, which was a good thing, because one of the tiny blips on my radar screen became a jet ski and zinged across our bow like a rocket! I grabbed for my air horn switch and gave him a long loud blast to protest his rudeness.

I then got on the Coast Guard channel and reported a 20 ton, 47-foot vessel on a 5 knot steady course had almost been broad sided by a speeding jet ski.

The commander of the Coast Guard Auxiliary vessel asked, “Is that you in the Textron Motor Lifeboat?” At my affimative he told me, “Nice evasive tactics, Captain. We saw that and we’re in hot pursuit of him.”

Isn’t it grand when the good guys are actually watching the bad guys?

We moored at one of the marinas that offers “drive in docking.” I like the place because they have plenty of bumpers at their docks, and try to enforce a no wake zone, and they love it when I bring the big MLB in.

She attracts sightseers and more business. I noticed my Kitti was attracting her full share of sightseers, too!

A man in a yachting suit walked up to us and seemed to divide his time between staring at Kitti’s perfect breasts and our MLB. “My name is Bill Murphy.” He said, “I’ll offer you a million for her.”

I turned to Kitti and winked, then spoke to Mr. Murphy. “Well, she is only my slave, but I have grown very fond of her. Besides, she is carrying my child, so I suppose I’ll have to refuse your kind offer.”

Murphy was red in the face and choking on his expensive cigar! “Good God, man. I was refering to your boat, not your woman!”

Kitti’s pretty face assumed a pout, then she buried her face in my chest sobbing! I was impressed by her impromptu acting ability.

“Mr. Murphy,” I told him, “you’ve insulted my poor slave, and with her pregnant too. You’ve also insulted our boat. The Coast Guard pays a million two for them, and I have at least a million five invested in ours!” Kitti and I stomped off in a huff, then laughed through our breakfasts!

We wandered through the marina’s store. I knew she’d never spent a day on the water under the hot Texas sun and didn’t want her blistered.

I insisted my darling find a wide brimmed hat, sun screen, and a cotton T-shirt. She found some shirts she adored and had to have two bright colors of them with “I’m with stupid” printed on them. “Stupid” was printed on the other two. You can probably guess which she chose in my size.

What the hell, I was proud to be the public straight man for such a beauty, and knew no one would consider it demeaning.

We bought her a non-resident fishing license, she pouted when I told her we’d better do this part legally.

We eased our way out of the marina using the controls on our exposed bridge. I wanted the extra visibility to watch for the increasing traffic. Twenty minutes later I kicked those twin Detroit Diesels and their 870 combined horsepower in the butt!

Kitti clung to me and screamed in her exhilaration! She was having a blast!

I know the maximum speed of a regulation MLB is 25 knots which is 28.77 miles per hour. The cruising speed is 22 knots. We were several thousand pounds lighter than the regulation vessels after our revisions to our living quarters, the removal of most of the rescue gear, and with our minimal crew.

I considered having our Coast Guard friends shoot us with their radar gun, then decided my WAG (Wild Assed Guess) of 30 MPH was close enough. It was close enough for my Darling seated at a control station high in the exposed bridge with near twenty tons of one of the toughest little boats in existence spanking her sweet ass!

“Hold her steady on the course, First Mate.” I showed her the compass setting, then pulled the engine throttles back to cruising speed. Her shorts and bikini slowed me only a moment, then I was lubing both of us and sitting her in my lap.

Inserting a lubed finger into her anus loosened her and prepared her for another. She was jilling her clit, then her vagina. I added my second lubed finger and began slamming them into her.

She shouted she wanted me inside her and I quickly obliged her. Her tight ass felt so fine! Anal sex has a touch of the forbidden about it, so I’ve always enjoyed it.

My Kitti is gloriously orgasmic, especially when taken anally! She came once, twice, then three times, then I lost count. I pinched her nipples and began making motions of milking her.

I demanded of her, “Are you making milk for my baby and me, slave?” I came too and she nearly threw herself out of my lap as she came along with me! I idled our engines and hung onto her carefully until she revived in my arms.

Kitti asked me, “Do we ever have to leave this boat, Master? Could we stay on her forever? Oh, our baby is upset over something. Yes, I am gypsy and know when he is upset, though he is only a tiny embryo. You are concerned over something. A lift? A boat hoist system?”

I exclaimed, “Kitti, I have never heard of anything of the sort! How could you communicate with a tiny fetus, and how could he know about me?”

“I am gypsy, Master. We are not the same as others. Am I right about what I said our son was concerned about?”

I led her down to the pilothouse and opened the folder in our computer where I’d saved pictures of other MLBs in the surf. I then showed her pictures I’d saved of two of the same boats being either raised out of or set into the water with a lift.

“I was merely thinking if we had a system and pier like that for her there would be no need to have a crane to lift her out in case of a large hurricane. I have a cradle on the flat bed of another truck we could pull her up into the yard on.