Dierdra And The Magic Of Sex

53. Dierdra And The Magic Of Sex

Hung on a mooring ball in a large harbor that didn’t allow wet storage had its advantages. Every one of the 200 or so boats in the harbor had someone living on it. And every boat had a dinghy or kayak to get to and from shore.

I went ashore and took a taxi to the grocery store, stopping along the way at the liquor store. Back at the marina I used a dock cart to shuttle my bags to my dinghy. Once empty, I returned the cart to the dock head. As I settled down in my dink, I noticed a tight, young body bent over the outboard motor on her dinghy. She furtively yanked on the starter rope several times. It wouldn’t start.

“Need a hand?” I asked.

She turned to look my way. Bronze skin, high cheekbones, long neck. A fucking raving beauty. “Wouldn’t ya know? I just returned from dropping my boyfriend at the airport and now this. It won’t start. And he’s gone all week.”

“How about I tow you to your boat and I’ll take a look at it? Would that help?”

I towed her dinghy to her boat and she climbed aboard, securing it to the stern. I secured my dink and climbed into hers to diagnose. All small outboards and jet skis have an ignition clip. If the driver falls overboard, the clip, attached to their body, snaps off and shuts down the motor. Hers was disengaged. I clipped it in place, pulled the starter cord and – voilà! – started right up.

She looked thrilled. “Oh my God! You’re magical! How’d you do that?”

“It’s an old trick my dad taught me” I said with a wink.

“Let me repay your kindness. Please come aboard for a cold drink.”

When a bronze goddess whose boyfriend is gone for a week invites you aboard, my advice is to accept. I climbed aboard her boat extending my hand.