Moved here when the ex decided I had spent one too many weekends, maybe a lot too many, working on the boat or going fishing or just going out for the fun of sailing. Marilyn didn't get boats, the concept of having a good day on the boat making life worthwhile beyond her imagination. She wanted elegant parties to show off our money, not going out on a bouncing boat to fish for food. For her, it didn't make sense. It wasn't worth it to her. She's gone with the kids and the house, I'm living aboard the boat now. I think we're both happier.

Anyway, I like marina life. The people, aside from the socialites, are all out to have a good time. I get invited aboard for a beer, bring a bucket of crabs and we all have a great evening enjoying the beauty of a boat and a beer after a day at work.

Then there's the Wharf Rats. They're all over the place. Thirteen to eighteen year olds dressed in the most flattering style daddy can buy them, tits sticking out, bellies showing in halter tops, tanned and trim legs, nice butts, oh yeah really nice butts. But they all have that rich-kid attitude that just rankles the nerves. Always watching out for who will make them look good, which boats they get invited on (not mine, thank you), who has the most money coming from daddy, that sort of thing. Reminds me of my ex.

But more than anything it's the Dock Mice that I like. Yep, they're all over the pier on weekends too. Eight to twelve year olds that are just realizing what it means when a grown up looks at them in 'that way', smiling and giving a bit of a show just to feel, and give, the thrill. And I like that particular thrill.

Everyone knows me around here as I do a lot of favors for the folks that have the misfortune of having to live on the land in a house with doors instead of hatches, windows instead of portals, carpets instead of astroturf on the deck. And big stoves that run on electricity, furnaces and air conditioning and the mortgage to go along with it. Not for me anymore. Still, I help when I can. Look after boats when they're gone and their kids when a couple needs a nooner, or a morner for that matter.

No, I like the marina life and I like the Dock Mice. They like me too as whenever mommy and daddy are too busy partying with a client (read 'mark') or having a little 'special lunchtime', the kids find their way to my boat. I give them the attention they want, have the games they like to play and hot chocolate when it's chilly, crab pots or fishing poles to loan. I like them and they know it. They appreciate it.

The word has spread around a select few that when they want to go for a boat ride or go fishing, I'll take them. The younger ones just enjoying a few hours away from the parents, the older ones will have boyfriends and girlfriends that want to come along so I take them out, spend my time fishing while they spend an hour of quality time together in the forward cabin. The ones with that special someone say bouncing on the waves can be a particularly pleasurable thing. When they tell me this I just smile and pass it off like it's no big deal. But it is a big deal, really, especially when I have a mouse going for a ride, the wild kind of ride, we hit a wave and they get stuck deep and hard. They squeal real good too.

It can cause a few grimaces but I never heard any complaints. Sheila, a particularly rambunctious and pretty mouse, came right as we were rocked by a wake. The sound of her voice cracking in a body wracking orgasm when the waves rocked us hard was wonderful to hear

My favorite mouse is Elizabeth of the Rosy Cheeks (both sets). Too bad Bogart and Hepburn didin't make any more like that one. Anyway, I took her out a couple times last year and let her steer once when I had the motor running. The motor and prop sends vibrations right through the rudder and down the tiller, something she seemed to enjoy. She and her brother lived close to the marina, Steve working at whatever he can around the boats with Elizabeth along to babysit. When he had a bottom job to do one day he asked if I could take his sister out fishing for him as he wouldn't have the time and she was being a pain and all that. I think he wanted to watch the rats parade around and his little sister was interfering with his fun. It was fine with me and we headed out. I let her have the tiller, of course.

"Rosie, the easiest way to steer is like this," I told her, stood over the tiller and pulled the wood up between my legs, hanging onto the tip like it was a large dong. I loved looking at her happy face, the dark blond hair that hung around her shoulders, nice oval face with a rounded chin. The rest of her was cutely little girl, slim and flat except for the beginnings of breasts poking her tee shirt. Now she had a baggy shirt on but I could imagine them easily. And those soft looking lips of hers were so inviting! Nice and full and pink and ready to be kissed. Now she was having a little fun at my expense......(cont)