I probably could have wrote more but I ran out of time and figured that I’d just post like this. Plus it could lend itself to another story.My regul...r caveat. I’m not an author, I just play one on the internet. I like this creative outlet for my fantasies and hopefully some of y’all like it too. It really helps me to visualize when I write.Tuesdays were my wife’s busy day at work. She was always right on time, leaving the house at 8am and rarely returning before 5pm, her days filled with. I was thrown into the warmwater as a result of her sudden grinding halt on the jagged rocks of thecoral head.I can only imagine the shock and dismay of those scurrilous men, as thePrincess worked her way onto the jagged coral, grinding her hull at thewaves crashed into her high stern castle, driving her harder andsmashing her bow to shreds.I tread water in the shallows of the warm bay watching and listening tothe shouts and frantic activity on the Princess's high decks. They weretrying. The bitch might’ve drowned me. Daphne snickered.“FUCK!” Carmen snapped. She slammed the laptop’s lid shut and folded her arms.“Something wrong?” Daphne asked. The commotion snapped through her trance.“Brad went to work early.” She sighed, wearing a painful grimace that carried as much disappointment as desperation.“You guys are so cute.” Daphne couldn’t help but roll her eyes while she said it. Carmen’s relationship with Brad fascinated her in several ways. Of all the futanari she knew, Carmen. “Because I’ve got to get you out of this sun, and back to the house as soon as possible. Think you can ride thirty miles in one shot?”“Not a hope in hell,” Ben mumbled, “even if I didn’t do something so fucking stupid, like getting fried! In this terrain, that thirty miles is an all-day proposition, with an early start, too. But we can try for the south edge of the range tonight, and finish off tomorrow. That’s assuming I can stay on that old nag that long” he volunteered.They covered almost.