Jimmy’s Intriguing Last Passenger

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Every weekday morning just after 7:00, Jimmy Rogers would pick up Mr and Mrs Smith as his first passengers. During the 12-mile journey to the Ferry Terminal linking the city he’d pick up other passengers on his feeder service, ending up with as many as thirty people.

At the end of day after working six hours washing dishes in a restuarant, Jimmy would arrive from the city on the 5:20 ferry. He’d start up his feeder ferry and five minutes later would commence the boarding and be ready to leave when the 5:50 ferry arrived with his final passengers.

The journey would commence up the muddy waters of McCracken River, with passengers returned back to their jetties.

Jimmy’s last passengers were Rolf Smith and his much younger wife, Gwen.

During that last fifteen minute leg to the Smiths jetty Gwen would join him in the wheelhouse, make three cups of coffee and take a mug back to Rolf who’d be reading a book. Gwen would rejoin Jimmy in the wheelhouse for coffee and a chat for the last few minutes of her journey.

This was the routine, day in day out, every week day of the year apart from public holidays.

On this particular Wednesday evening Gwen had some news.

“A helicopter is coming on Sunday evening to take Rolf out to Lander’s Island for a law conference, returning late on Monday evening.”

“That’s exciting,” said Jimmy. “You’re a lawyer, are you going?”

“No, too boring for me. But look, Monday is a public holiday. I’d like to charter you and your small boat to take me up the river to somewhere refreshing.”

“Jackson’s bend.”

“Been there, somewhere more exotic. I am told that you know of secret places.”

Jimmy looked at her and she looked right through to his soul. He was hers to obey.

“If we started at 5:00 in the morning we could get to Musters’Landing and get back out again on the falling tide before the water level drops too low to be home by nightfall.”

“Oh Jimmy, really!”

She darted forward and kissed him on the cheek. He could feel the stifness of her trussed up breast against his arm.

“I don’t want any other passengers, bring your wife by all means, but no one else.”

That request pleased Jimmy – no other passengers would mean they could cut the departure finer and they would draw less draught.

He wouldn’t take his wife Jennie, either. In fact he wouldn’t tell her where he was going to save bothersome questions. He’d say he was going out into the gulf for a day’s fishing. She hated being out in blue water and he could by-pass his jetty on the way up the river by taking Jessop’s fork.

Jimmy, watching the lovely butt of Gwen disappearing from the wheelhouse, was surprised at his thinking, believing Jennie would call it devious and she’d wonder if he had a thing going with the attractive young lawyer.

Well, dream on Jimmy Rogers. She was married to a millionaire and was well-heeled herself. There was no room in the pants of Gwen Smith for the likes of Jimmy Rogers. All she wanted was to be taken on the unique journey to Musters’Landing. Only five boaties in the entire region besides himself knew the unmapped route up the multitude of channels to the landing.

That night Jimmy went to sleep with a monster hard on, which really meant it was slightly stiffer than usual when Jennie had it in her hand. Gwen dressed in a bikini was in his mind; he was sure she’d wear one. She was paying him a flat fee of $100 to cover the cost of fuel and would do the catering. He’d reckoned that was too generous, but she he was worth it.

Worth what he didn’t know but next morning when he picked up the Smiths everything was exactly the same. Normal greetings, normal backchat. That evening it was the same, except when Gwen left the wheelhouse to disembark she winked at him; she’d never done that before.

On Thursday there was no mention of the trip up river and no wink. But on Friday when Gwen was finishing her coffee she said casually she’d be on her jetty at 5:00 on Monday wet or fine.

Jimmy said yes, and that was it. Except she blew him a kiss as she left the wheelhouse. That puzzled Jimmy who thought perhaps she’d been drinking either at lunch or on the main ferry.


At 5:00 next morning the pretty woman who always was the last passenger off Jimmy’s ferry on weekday evenings was waiting on the jetty. Being a woman she’d forgotten something, but as it was the liquids Jimmy didn’t even bother to reprimand her. He loaded all of her bits and pieces, almost enough for a week’s cruise, and was ready to move off as soon as she stepped on board.

They departed, the twin outboards throttled back to the 5-knot maximum speed through the National Park which began at the entrace to Jessop’s fork.

Lauding the beauty of the day and after tidying up her provisions, Gwen came over, kissed him on the cheek and popped a boiled sweet into his mouth.

Jimmy thought this was a little sexy.

With Sivas Escort the motors only ticking over it was possible to talk at normal conversational volume.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Jimmy was wearing a pair of clean but very worn white shorts and a black bush singlet, his normal weekend boating gear.

“No, but I was hoping you’d be wearing a bikini.”

She smiled.

“Why would that be?”

“I like nice scenery.”

“Really, that’s almost an evasive answer. How old are you, Jimmy.”


She grunted, turned her swivel chair to face him and pulled the zip of her tracksuit top three-quarters way down, pausing so he could see she was wearing a bikini top, then pulled up the zip again.

“A rum spiced coffee?”

Jimmy nodded and thought his pecker was telling him there was an outside chance that it might get lucky this day.

Frowning, Jimmy wondered what his client would think of that idea.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

She was handing him his spiked coffee and he almost dropped it. Well, he was entitled to his thoughts so there’s no need to be defensive.

“You wouldn’t like to know, trust me.”

“Ah, so even Jimmy Smith has a filthy mind, what a disappointment that is,” she giggled.”

Jimmy flushed and asked he should he turn on music.

“No thanks.”

Seven miles up river they were out of the national park so Jimmy was able to gun the motor and they traveled at 15 knots, which was fast enough as it were possible to run into shoals in a dry period like this.

At 8:30 he ran the boat ashore and they ate breakfast on the shingle bank. Before reboarding Gwen took off her tracksuit bottoms, and left them off. She was wearing the other half of the bikini.

She had wonderful long legs, slightly on the thin side but very lovely to look at.

Suddenly Jimmy realised she was watching him staring at her legs but she had the grace to say nothing. He felt like a slob who ought not to be in the company of such a nice woman.

Once they were underway they were chatting like good friends.

Just before 10:00 they came to five tributaries all within a two hundred yard span.

“Are you willing to take a risk,” he asked.

“With you, I guess so.”

“If we take that third tributary we could cut more than two hours boating. We may have to get out to lighten the boat, but I reckon there’s just enough water coming through. It’s a judgmental thing.”

“I’m in your hands, Jimmy. I’ll do anything you say – yes, anything.”

Jimmy tried to keep the leer off his face and turned, but perhaps not quite fast enough.

They proceeded at five knots, Jimmy standing up for better views to select the channel ahead, where there were options.

It became very shallow so he steered into a sandbank midstream and got the big outboards clear of the water with the power lift. Heading into the forward cabin, Jimmy returned with a small outboard normally used for trolling. With that screwed to its bracket, they were underway again, throttled back to three knots.

Five minutes later they scraped the bottom.

“Want my ass overboard.”

Her skipper nodded and that was just enough to get through the low patch, and after that it was slow but uneventful progress, with them both admiring the abundant of birdlife.

“There’s more to see on this route – these birds rarely see people. You may see deer and even pigs.”

“How far will we be from Smiths’ Jetty when we get to our destination?”

“Seventeen miles on the main channel and the deviation with high tide at present going three to four miles beyond that.

“It’s a 4:00 tide so we’ll be able to speed home on a turning tide.”

Returning to the main channel they continued for about a mile then Jimmy turned into a narrow but deep looking channel almost obscured by undergrowth.

Five minutes later the channel became not nearly so deep but widened considerably and they chugged up a canyon for ten minutes before it opened out to a beautiful sandy beach and what appeared to be grassland plains fringed on one side by trees right from the water’s edge.

“Musters’ Landing,”said Jimmy proudly. Few people come here, no more than half a dozen each year. It’s a very special place.

“It’s beautiful, truly beautiful.”

“Paradise with a bite,” said Jimmy. “If you hear a wild pig charging at you climb a tree or take to the water without delay. It’s clean water, almost twenty feet deep in the main pool and fortunately pigs are not that tall.”

“Wild pigs, with tusks?”

“Yeah, but don’t be nervous. Only some of them have tasks.”

“Thanks very much,” Gwen said nervously.

But five minutes later when they’d unpacked their gear on to the beach the pigs were forgotten.

“What would you like to do now?” Gwen asked.

Jimmy asked with his eyes. Gwen flushed and said, “Are you serious?”

He Sivas Escort Bayan nodded and she held out her arms.

“Just a moment, I’ll get a rug,” Jimmy said, clearing his throat.

Gwen came over and said he was already standing on a rug. They hugged and began kissing almost shyly, feeling their way. Jimmy liked what he felt, and so did Gwen.

Jimmy pulled off the track suit top and bikini stop and sunk his mouth into her breast in a continuous series of moments.

“My, aren’t you in a hurry.”

“Only in getting this far,” Jimmy said, taking his mouth off the taut, well-shaped breast to speak. From here on it’s pure journey.”

“What?” queried Gwen, but Jimmy’s head had dipped between her breasts.

Gwen was surprised that Jimmy didn’t opt for a conventional hump on the blanket. Instead he pulled her to her feet and clasped her firmly by her left hip, tjem swung round behind her.

She turned away from his grip to kiss him, which is exactly what he wanted. He wanted the kiss and tonguing, of course, and coming up for air Jimmy crooked his right arm under her other leg and lifted it high, Gwen caught by surprise again and falling backwards to counter-balance, thrust her right arm behind Jimmy’s neck, which thrilled him.

Here they were, ready to go without him having to issue an instruction as Gwen apparently hadn’t a clue what was going on.

There was a problem, however. Jimmy didn’t have a third hand – but Gwen to the rescue. Realising that a very ready erection was brushing against her butt, just inches away from her very wet pussy on the other side, she reached between her legs and gently drew the penis home.

They were fortunately his rod had a natural upward hook – which is why Jimmy favoured this usually difficult position except for the very athletic.

Gwen virtually only had to aim it at the entrance to her vagina and a steady push forward by Jimmy, his balls dangling down like an old Billy Goat, pushed in deeply and with a sighed that gladdened Gwen’s heart. Someone at home in the last couple of years had been taking sex for granted and not going enough to keep it alive as a bedroom sport.

Gwen had been different in going after a temporary sexual liaison. Like many things, it began way back, by sheer chance. She and Rolf were going home on Jimmy’s ferry one winter’s night late, because the city to river terminal ferry had broken down and it was almost an hour before the next ferry had arrived, transferred passengers and then waited, tied to the disabled ferry until the rescue tug arrived.

Beginning the final run to Smiths’ Jetty Jimmy had called over the intercom, asking if his last two passengers would like to come up for coffee. Gwen and he husband went to the wheelhouse, Gwen made three mugs of coffee and Rolf went back to his favourite position, telling her to stay and talk to their neighbour. And thus began a tradition.

Gradually Gwen came to like Jimmy, finding him quite a character – bright in disposition, humerous and exhibiting a great love for the river and its hinterland.

He also was a liar, as she later was to find. She asked him about the legendary landing many miles upriver, discovered by early settlers taking sheep up on barges and looking to find a way through the wilderness to the inland pasturelands. They needed a route with abundant watering holes – preferably springs – through the badlands.

Jimmy had looked her straight in the eye and said no such place existed – the original settlers had battled through suffering immense hardship and eventually a railway and very much later a roadway came through to the inland pasturelands from the south.

“People have wrecked their boats trying to find the mythical old settler’s landing,” he said, casting his eyes downwards in a very authentic version of giving respect for the dead, although perhaps people had really tried to solve the legend and died.

In time she came to wonder what Jimmy would be like in bed. He was younger than her husband and very much fitter. At times she dreamed about him and occasionally when Rolf was ponding her she imagined it was Jimmy, surprising Rolf by her unusually copious orgasm. Orgasm, singular. She was sure that Jimmy would help her to multiple orgasms.

Wooosh, and standing on the rug on the sands at the landing, Gwen was very aware that she’d just orgasmed and at least one more was immiment. Her body felt alive, her nerve ends tingling. Jimmy pushed the hand on her left hip around and stretched until he got a finger on to her clit.

He made two lunges and missed, she waited expectedly, hoping he’d land the third attempt and as the finger slid over the highly sensitive nub she went Ooooooow! into her second orgasm and was puffing and shaking her head about in near abandonment.

She felt a third one buiding up but astonishly, Jimmy simply disconnected. This was outrageous, he hadn’t even cum.

Before Escort Sivas she could protest Jimmy had whipped her other leg off the ground and dropped her on the blanket, falling on to her in a sixty-nine position. He had a strong looking cock and she took it into her mouth hungrily. She screamed as her tongue slid over her nub, sank into her vagina for a second and then came back over her clit absolutely crawingly slow. Oooooooow! she went and convulsed twice in succession.

Her mouth seemed to really fill with cock and she was spluttering on cum. He hauled out his meat and sprayed come over her face and eyes; she went crazy, trying to catching the flying dollops in her mouth.

Gwen couldn’t believe it. She felt dirty, a complete slut and she wiggled herself deliciously, enjoying the moment unlike any other sexual experience in her entire life, and that included a robust gang bang when at university.

As for Jimmy, he was exhausted. Pushing uphill is never easy and Gwen had torn a more come out of him that he’d attempted to allocate for that session. He was wanted to make a full day of it!

Arms around each other they virtually fell into the water but immediately enjoyed the first zaps of revival.

After a few minutes they were swimming leisurely and talking sweet nothings to each other, two great mates in the water in the middle of nowhere. It was just great.

Jimmy reset camp under the trees, as the heat was building up. If he hadn’t been so cunt-struck on arriving he would have thought of setting camp in the shade.

Gwen emerged from the chiller box with a bottle of expensive looking French champagne.

“Good gracious, we’re on a treat,” said Jimmy.

“My husband he’s so mean he won’t drink it, we’ve got it stashed all over the house, most of it given to us.”

“Is that so? Well, lay down on your back and hold you butt up a bit – I’ll give you something to remember me by whenever you drink champagne,” said Jimmy lewdly.

He poured of generous slosh of the $170 drink over Gwen’s vulva, placed the bottle back carefully, and then set about slurping champagne with the taste of blended cunt juice.

“What does it taste like?”

Jimmy slurped some liquid into his mouth, hauled himself up over Gwen, and dribbled it into her mouth.”

“Lovely,” she lied and then fell into a fit of giggles.

They finished the bottle of champagne, conventionally and slowly and then had chicken and advocado salad and a fillet of freshwater salmon each.

“Another rumble then desert?” asked Gwen.

“Let’s go for a walk through the grasslands,” was the sensible suggestion from Jimmy so soon after lunch. “I keep a rifle in the boat, I’ll get it. If we see a pig and it charges, don’t panic, just get behind me – behind me! Okay?”


They didn’t walk far as they were naked so needed to shelter from the sun. Gwen behaved like an excited little girl when she spotted some wildflowers and picked a bunch, looking every so happy.

“I shall always remember this day,” she said simply, as they were walking back.

“Do you enjoy fishing?”

“Yes, love it. But Rolf doesn’t, so we don’t go.”

“Look, I wouldn’t mind keeping a little thing going with you, Gwen. To tell you the truth, I really want that to happen as you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had the chance to fire my rocks at.

“I want to suggest we go out fishing once a month – we’ll invite our spouses to come with us, but they won’t and they’ll get used to us going out together and if we bring back fish they’ll assume we were not going anything else. But we’ll put out set lines so will have four or five hours to fuck and get pissed or just sit and talk, whatever takes our fancy.”

Gwen looked sad, and said she was sorry but she’d only wanted to break out the once. That was happening and they were having a memorable time.

They arrived back at the trees, without sighting any pigs.

After getting comfortable, Gwen began working on Jimmy with her hands to get him erect. She said she would prefer conventional style, with him giving her a full pasting of cum and then just resting for a while.


While it was understandable that Jimmy would be sad, believing this would be his first and last day in the sun with the charming Gwen Smith, in all probability she would not get pregnant this day.

Indeed, already Gwen was thinking, as she worked to get Jimmy erect, that she would need to buy suitable clothes to go on fishing trips with him. She would maintain her connection with Jimmy until he succeeds in assisting her to conceive the baby she wants, the baby that Rolf has been unable to father.

Rolf, of course, did not go by helicopter to an offshore conference. In fact, he’s at home working in his study as he always does on a Saturday. He’s really looking forward to Gwen getting pregnant as she has been so restless since deciding it was time to be with child.

That ferryman seems to be a good type of man to father the child of Rolf and Gwen Smith, thought Rolf. Perhaps they should consider naming the child James if it is a son. He definitely would gift the virile father a new ferryboat.


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