Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 4 - Sex Stories

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Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 4

Date: 12/22/2015, Categories: First Time, Author: blin18, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

kid,” he went on. “Got a head on him like Brian’s. Shoulda used a good-lookin’ kid like Hugh Jackman here,” he gestured at Kevin. “I know right?” I laughed, musically. “Except he can’t act.” I reached down and squeezed his thigh. “Can’t even do impressions! Do your Australian accent, Kevin!” “Aw, cripes Em’,” he said in his normal voice, trying not to laugh. “You’re embarrassing me.” “Acksh’ly mate, that’s not bad,” Brian said. “Keep at it. Hardly anyone’d guess you’re a bloody Pom.” And then, realising what he’d said. “No offence, y’know.” “None taken,” Kevin laughed. We watched the view out the window as Skip did most of the talking, telling us about the Freshwater – which is the ferry we were on – and regaling us with anecdotes from half a lifetime of work on Sydney Harbour. “This is Bradley’s Head coming up on our right,” Skip pointed to some lights marking the edge of the dark harbour. “You’ll be able to see the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the city in a tick.” Sure enough, the lights of the skyscrapers appeared first and then the familiar coat-hanger of the bridge came into view – tiny and unfamiliar to me from this distance. “Oh wow!” I breathed, almost forgetting my English accent. “What a view you get from up here!” “It’s got nothin’ on the view from up top,” Brian pointed above his head. “Three-sixty views in every direction.” “What’s up there?” I asked. “I thought this was the top deck.” “It is,” Skip agreed. “But there’s a ladder up to the roof. There’s a rail ... around the radio mast and more stairs up to the crow’s nest. Brian’s like a bloody dog hanging his head outta the car. He’d spend the whole trip up there if I let him.” “Is it romantic?” I asked, exchanging a glance with Kevin. “I dunno about romantic,” Skip said. “It’s not like that scene in Titanic, if that’s what you mean.” “Hey,” Brian interrupted, pointing at me again with a bright look in his eyes. “You were in that one too, right?” “Fuck, Brian – oh shit … I mean, pardon. Beg yours, Miss,” I tried not to smile at Skip’s serial profanity. “What are you smoking, Brian? She was a baby when that movie came out.” Actually, I was in Grade 5; I remember because my Mum wouldn’t let me watch it. But right now I was pretending to be a few years younger, so Skip had a point. “Can we go up there?” I asked him eagerly. The thought of panoramic views from the middle of Sydney Harbour was too good to pass up. Skip laughed at my excitement. “If y’can see y’way clear to an autograph and photo for my boy, then I reckon yes,” he negotiated. “But I need Brian to stay here …” “Awww, Ski-i-i-p!” “… and you can’t go up the crow’s nest without rigging, so you gotta stay inside the rail.” “Done and done!” I chirped. “Where do I sign?” We found a felt-tipped marker and I “autographed” a laminated evacuation map of the ferry: To Davey, son of the World’s Best Ferry Captain Love always, Emma Watson (Hermione) -xxx- I wore Brian’s Sydney Ferries cap and jacket and they took some photos of me behind the ...