We got under way and I looked over my new wetsuit. Lindsay had done an amazing job, but I guessed with all the suits she made, she could do it in her sleep. Still, I couldn’t wait to try it out. I stripped down to my Speedo-like swimsuit, and came on deck to powder my wetsuit. I saw Gerard looking at me from the wheelhouse. He grinned, gave me a thumbs-up, and stuck his head out the door.

“Bob tell you, the guys don’t wear swimsuits underneath?” He winked. What the fuck?

“Yep, commando it is. I just didn’t want the sun shining off my lily white ass, blinding anyone, while I get the suit ready.”

Gerard laughed. “Don’t think that would be what blinds them,” I’m sure I heard as I was headed below. I ditched the swimwear, and got myself into the suit. Sweet, this was a perfect fit. We’d just approached the ship when I came on deck. Gerard spoke on the VHF radio to the captain, who relayed all the information. He came out from the wheelhouse, and met up with me.

“This should be a piece of cake, easy in and out. They have a wire through the hole, so you need to look for that on the aft, starboard side; put in your plug, and we’re as good as done. If it goes that well, you are my new good luck charm.”

The slight Newfoundland accent in his voice added to his rugged good looks, and I really liked his smile. His lips quirked up higher on one side and he had a dimple in the cheek on that same side. He maneuvered us into position, as I put my tanks and mask on. True to the information from the other captain, I was able to find and plug the hole in record time, which brought to mind my upcoming date with Danny the next evening.

Since we’ve been together and monogamous for six months, he asked that I skip using condoms. He liked the feel of skin on skin, and I trusted him, so it was no hardship on my part. Just the thought about that added to a bit of arousal going on in my wetsuit. I’d started thinking of other things to get my mind off sex. I got back on deck, managed to get my tanks and gear off, and peeled off my top and boots. I figured it best to go below for the rest, so I didn’t embarrass myself, since the ship’s crew watched from the rail, and Gerard worked nearby.

Just as I headed to the steps, Gerard strolled around the wheelhouse, shirtless. Oh hell, lean muscle was an understatement. The man was gorgeous, and did nothing to ease the rigid traitor between my legs. I waved and blushed.

Once below, I guessed the best way to deal with this was to slide out of my neoprene pants, then throw on my boxers and jeans. Best laid plans ... what with me being wet, and covered with cornstarch. I’d just started to towel off, when Gerard slid down the rails, and came to a sudden stop. I nearly tripped, trying to get the towel around my waist, but the obvious tent pole was a giveaway.

He whistled. “Good thing I stopped when I did, coulda hurt myself on that thing. Put an eye out, or something. I figured you like diving, but with a boner like that; I’d say it seems like more of a fetish. Wonder if workers' comp covers injury caused by aroused diver?”

I felt the heat rising in my cheeks ... face ... ass cheeks were still pasty white, and coated with cornstarch.

“I ... ah ... it was just ... I ... umm.” Fuck. I was stammering like a schoolboy caught beating off in the washroom.

He laughed. “It happens to us all, me, usually at night, in some dream or other. I’ll head back up and leave you to your, um, chores. Be kind, I gotta wash those towels.” He smirked and winked.