Tunnel Trauma Part 2

When May told you that I was in a bad mood after the stoppage in the tunnel she forgot to mention that I was so upset that I checked and tested everything on the boat. I left the tools on the bank. Now arriving at Weedon with the prospect of better things you’ll appreciate that discovering that the tools still lay neatly beside the towpath where I had put them was a blow to my system.
May is right, I am very proud of my fine engine but its no good without the tools to maintain it. Some people are worse in a crisis than in the steady run of life. That’s how it is with me.
“Now. That’s when we’ve got to go back.”
“They’ll still be there in a month, nobody walks along a dead end path to a tunnel.”
“I’ve lived with those tools for 15 years and I won’t be parted from them.”
Can you fill in the rest of the conversation between the distraught bachelor and the lady he wants to care for?
For once I got my own way. Nathan and AnnaMarie would wait for the rest of the day and next morning. We returned the way we had come.
Just how the day turned from bad to good I can’t really explain. One moment we were making serious progress with me anxiously pondering the possible fate of my tools and ten minutes later we were as silly as we ever get. On my own I would have sulked till the tools were found but May is a mistress of what she calls “Robert Engineering.”
You already know about her big brown eyes and her fits of giggles but she’s not all bodily delights, she’s got a talent for acting despite being somewhat shy about her shape.
She started to ramble on about the things that happened during the morning topless and bottomless cruise. Each time she recounted the reactions of the spectators she mimicked them and I was soon bound up in her tale. May pretending to be a goggle–eyed little boy whilst wearing nothing but a bath towel or May pretending to be a passer–by trying to avert his gaze from a pair of naked young women soon had me in stitches.
She had been so intent on her “Robert Engineering” for the last hour or two that she had completely forgotten that she held a great deal of liquid. She sat with her legs dangling over the back of the cabin watching my reactions while I watched her playing various parts and unconsciously squeezing her legs together or putting a hand down to press the towel.
We went by the pub garden and some of the revelers were still at their pots. She got a big cheer and several offers of a drink and a cuddle. This encouraged her to be yet more outrageous in her antics.
Unaware of her continuing need to leak she got up and strutted round the deck to show how the game had been played. AnnaMarie would have been flattered to know how cleverly May acted the part of a pretty little thin woman. By the time the end of our return journey drew into sight she had fully repaired my feelings and became suddenly aware of her own requirements. Coasting in to the cutting we could see some more boats tied up just where the tools should be. As we stopped she leaped ashore with the rope and lost control of the bath towel.
Such a noble crew! She held on to the rope instead of the towel.
Before she had a chance to retrieve it the company had seen her and as she was prettily trying to help me with the boat while turning away from the watchers they hailed her heroics. One of them stepped forward to take the rope giving her a moment to cover up.
Seconds later the tools were brought to us and we had made eight new friends. Five lads were on a serious drinking holiday so it’s hardly a strain on the imagination to see why they gathered round my crew. The three from the second boat were a party of middle–aged women having a week’s rest from their husbands and enjoying themselves riotously. They had seen the lads and were intent on capturing them.
We stood there in the sun swapping accounts of ourselves. May hung on my arm to demonstrate possession of me in the face of the happy ladies.
She told me after that she knew predatory women when she saw them and resolved not to let me out of her sight. If she had not wanted to pee so badly she might have enjoyed the situation more. As it was she kept trying to draw my attention to her plight, whispering that we should go into the cabin. Its not polite to turn your back on people who are telling you the details of their happiness so the opportunity to get away was a long time in coming. May couldn’t let go of me for fear I would be accosted (I was the right age for the middle aged predators) nor could she hold on to herself in present company. She leaned hard against me and I felt myself clasped by her thighs using my leg to press the opening shut.
That’s quite an erotic experience both for the recipient and for the lads who watched. They gathered about like dingos around a carcass.
May wouldn’t let go of her bladder or me. The boys kept on chatting, the ladies kept interrupting and all the time I kept hearing little gasps from May. She began to breathe deeply which is her sign of reaching a critical moment. She started to say “I’ve got to go…” but before she could finish one of the lads insisted that we come aboard and have a taste of some coffee–flavored liqueur. I think they just wanted to look up the bath towel.
I was in a predicament, although nowhere near as difficult as May’s; should I promise to return in a minute or two when she had taken the chance to relieve herself or should I try to go on my own and let her follow when ready. That was what I had decided to do and was already moving to put it into action when another of the lads, more drunk than the rest, put his arm round May and then undertook to see her to her boat. She clung to me and said “Just a quick drink then.”
All ten of us wedged ourselves into the boys’ boat and were very hospitably treated to an eggcup full of Tia Maria. The ladies warmed to the occasion and started to tell of their intentions to go through the tunnel straight away so they could reach the pub before the end of the afternoon. This was very much to the boys’ liking. I noticed a couple of glances among the assembled group and wondered how the evening might pan out. May, by now, had started to hum a little tune. “Flow gently Sweet Afton among thy green braes.” I looked down to see that the towel was pressed very firmly between her legs and it looked damp already.
“OK we’ll leave you people to it. Happy drinking!”
I ushered May through the crush of bodies. There was much pretence of falling about so that the middle–aged ladies and the drunken young men came into close proximity but we escaped on deck.
Did she make it? She made it to the deck of our boat but a quarter of a pint did not. It plopped onto the towpath as she shuffled quickly along. There were also a couple of wet footprints across the boys’ back deck. May must tell the last part.
— ––
I did reach our boat before letting go completely but it was a losing battle. When I was fully emptied I could hear the sounds of our hosts preparing to leave. One of the ladies walked along the path because she said she was too frightened to go through the tunnel and would walk over the top. We talked for some time and Sandra told me how she had been a good wife for 18 years and now had decided it was time to have some fun but she felt out of practice. The reason she had come to talk to me on my own was because she noticed how the boys paid such close attention to me and wanted to find out what the secret was.
I’ve never had a boyfriend before Robert so I could hardly give her any advice. What she did manage to drag out of me was that we played wet games sometimes and that Robert said it made me smell nice. All she said was “Mmmm, well maybe”. She seemed to be deep in thought as she prepared to leave. I made a guess at what was going through her mind. To see if I was right I gave a little smile and said “Would you like a nice long drink before you set off?”
She gave a bigger smile, “Go on then, you only live once.” I do hope I didn’t cause adultery.
I cannot say in detail what actually happened because we weren’t there. What I can say is that I received an e–mail from Sandra about a month later telling me that all eight of them were thrown out of the pub at 9 that night. Four of the lads were expelled for “loud behavior”, one lad and three middle–aged ladies for having pissed themselves and made a mess on the barroom floor. It seems that they had all become involved in a game of hold it. Sandra said that she and her friends were well satisfied with the results so I leave you to make what you will of that.
That’s an end to the trauma at the tunnel.
XXX Lots of wet ones.
Robert and May