I opened a BnB on the Chesapeake Bay.

 I normally see the lonely, red caisson light, as I drive towards the tunnel.

For years I saw the lonely old lighthouse in the bay, from the highway towards the tunnel.

Now, I see it as we sail across over the tunnel, toward our new BnB.



The Coast Guard is giving me a 10 year Lease to make a viable, go at it.

I'd always wanted to live in a light house, and this is my chance. The solar panels are installed, the cistern water treated, and now, I can start renovation/restorations. 

Me and my partner are headed out, with the keys.

We approached the dank old lighthouse on the drop ladder side, and tying the boat alongside, climbed up.

"Bonanza! We oughta have a monopoly on Sea Gull shit!" Billy exclaimed, feigning excitement. 

"Hope none is inside." I lamented,  not wanting to touch the handrails.

I stepped in to our new BnB. 

Billy stated, "What a dump!" Pantomiming Bette Davis with a cigarette.

Though in disarray, and a little disrepair, it was cosy, and the crew quarters looked practically liveable.

We started cleaning up and unpacking.

How deep is the galley port sill, This side's 6"."

"Bill? ...Bill?" I turned.

"Looks like I got seven," Snapping the tape shut, his dick protruding from his fly.

"Shut that pie hole, or this is ramming in!" I pulled out my own, protruding prong. Twice as thick, twice as long. 

I glided across the room effortlessly.  My hung-and-swung meat out, dangling like a carrot before a mule. Boinging, and galloping towards his mouth. 

He knelt in submission.

I lept, and rodeo landed with my thighs each side of his head. The intertia bent him backwards, onto one of the matresses we got to replace the old Coast Guard bunks, and I was soon skull-hunching like a rabbit in the Spring.



I saw the ladder to the bedding area and wondered how many sailor "coasties" jacked off out here, when it was a manned lighthouse. Whether they had enough privacy, in this tiny dog house, or if they even cared.

Sailors jacking off is the smutty pre-code secret of Popeye's big forearms' origins, y'know.

I imagined a good 6 man crew out here, each finding their alone time. One kid out on lookout, jacking over the rail, a fella hiding down by the cistern, the Sr. Petty Officer in his private room, the cook watching the guy outside from his galley window....I couldn't contain my fantasy epic circle jerk any more, I yanked my dick out, and shot a load across Billy's cheek and moustache.

He thanked me, ate the cream, and we got back to work....

The 5 deck, plus cupola, light is unusually small, and fitting entertainments and solar was the main challenge. 

For now, we took a break to enjoy the sunset, mug of soup in hand.

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