I reasoned that I could make canvas patches and glue them to the outside of the boat, allow one to harden and then add another to form Hardcore a watertight skin. A few days later and our boat floated amateur in the bay with no sign of a leak anywhere. I had some oars that were salvaged when the ship sank but I couldn’t figure out how to make any rowlocks for them. Instead, we searched out a long and straight branch and no time we had a mast stepped in the provided hole amidships, suitable ropes tied it off, we were ready for sails, now all we had to do was make them. We didn’t have any needles, nor any twine for stitching. What we did have though, was an abundance of sharp thorns, they kept snapping but there were always plenty more, For twine, we unravelled a rope, a long and tedious job but eventually, we had sufficient to make our sail. In fact, we made two. I had no idea of how to sail a boat, other than the little knowledge I had gained from the few weeks I had watched the sailors on the schooner. The sails of a ship though were somewhat different to those our longboat would need. First, we made a square one, with a pole arm at the top and bottom. Then a triangular one with just the one pole at the bottom. Although it was a bit large for the job, I fitted the pulley at the top of the mast, something to make it easier for pulling the sail up. At last, we sat in our boat, too nervous to take the next step. Then it occurred to me that the wind was blowing the wrong way, we would have been blown straight back onto the beach. I didn’t want to take the boat out to sea until I knew whether we could sail it or not, so teen I needed a day when the wind was blowing from our side of the bay to the other or perhaps a wind blowing directly into the bay which would bring us back to the original campsite at the furthest point from the open sea. I only had an idea of how to sail directly in front of the wind, with no inkling of how to steer. There was no rudder on the boat, that was still somewhere at the bottom of the sea. Steering could only be done with sails, something that I was going to have to learn. There was a reasonable wind blowing across the bay when we cast off the line mooring us to the beach, I warned Liz to keep her head below the level of the sail’s pole, then I hauled on the rope, the triangle of canvas rose swiftly to the top, it made loud indian cracking noises as it wildly flapped in the wind. Then it filled, ballooning out, I only just had the rope fastened in time. The boat keeled hard over as she shot forward, we were sailing, slicing through the water much faster than I would have imagined. Very soon, I found that I had almost no control, the boat went where the wind took it, at times we were leaning at such a dangerous angle I thought we might capsize. In no time at all, we had crossed the bay, I dropped the sail as we rapidly approached the beach, then quite smoothly, we touched sand. I partly solved the steering problem by removing the pulley at the masthead and moving it to the side of the boat. It would be harder to raise the sail but now I would find it easier to control the bottom pole of the sail, more able to let out rope and change the angle without burning my hands as I had on the first trip. Day after day, when the weather was suitable, we practised, I learned how to tack the boat, zigzagging against the wind, only once did Liz suffer a glancing blow from the swinging sail pole. I knew that there had to be a proper name for the pole but couldn’t imagine what it might be. We had now fitted another, much smaller sail in front of the mast, this increased our speed considerable but it also gave us a lot more work. My confidence grew until I felt it was time to venture beyond the bay. We chose a day when the wind was quite gentle and the sea was only running a small swell. If all went well, we intended to carry on around the island. Everything did go well, we turned left from our bay, sailing parallel to the coast until we tacked around the end of the island. So far there had only been mile after mile of sand and trees, then we reached the previously unseen area beyond the mountain. It was Liz who first saw the building, her excited shout breaking my concentration. Immediately, we tacked and sailed towards the shore. Soon we could see a rickety looking wooden jetty in front of a fairly large building. It needed to be cleaned up. After all, as first-generation settlers on Neo Hampshire, they each had thousand year lives to enjoy. The front of the leggings pulled down enough to even expose the top of her sex. The aftershocks where still making her shiver and moan when she finally stopped peeing, the bucket beneath her half full of yellow liquid. Sarah and her pristine hole stood in contrast to Ashley's leaky, creampied twat, which was also in the shot as Parker snapped photo after photo eagerly, loving the sight of them both before him. Margaret had heard about me and she wanted to arrange ‘something very special’ for her girlfriend while she watched. I hope to fall in love one day and experience that, but it hasn't happened yet." Then 3 more men came in. It was getting crowded in there. amateur “Ouch!” I indian gasped, moaned. Charles eventually stopped moving and submitted to the feeling of Bridget's warm thighs pinning him down. Once the makeup was finished; he applied a teen light coating of dark plum lipstick to the lips and then looked at his work. She broke our kiss. I do my best to copy her, ‘Ohh thats nice’ I say. Thank you, thank you, thank you for helping us!” She taught me quite a bit, but I didn't want to talk about it because I thought it might upset you. He Hardcore was clearly trying to hold back the now considerably built-up batch of cum churning in his testicles. “Oh!” I exhaled quickly. As I said before I am a natural blond as the hair above my vagina attests to. Subconsciously, our own bodies were yearning for human contact and as the show continued, we moved closer and closer together. Her Neo-Nazi of an administration boss Oksana made her life a nightmare.