Journal 112
Astra 39
Commercial diver off duty
- Life
- A harbor apartment with tanks in the closet and salt in the rug.
- Temper
- Steady and suddenly greedy
Kinks
- Docks at night, not a working dive
- A hard fuck after a soft day underwater
- Harbor bars and men who do not dive her jobs
I am Astra, thirty-nine. Underwater I am steady. On the dock, after the boat is someone else's problem, I get greedy. I do not fuck the crew I dive with. Bram is forty-one and he cooks. He is not a diver on my jobs, and he is not the only man I fuck. Strangers from harbor bars get the same yes if I want them. When I want it rough I say so, and the word that ends it is surface. I like coming up. I like choosing the next body on a different night.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
The bunk
The bunk room was a rental above a chandlery, not a working boat, and nobody I dive with had a key. I had paid for the night because I wanted a narrow bed and a porthole and a man who did not know my compressor. Eamon was thirty-six, from the harbor bar, a scar through one eyebrow and the sense to ask what I wanted before he touched the door.…
Read full postThe dock night
The dive was done at noon and the boat was not mine after that. I showered the harbor off at home, dried my short hair, and went back down because I wanted Bram and the dark water, not a job. He is forty-one, a cook, flour still in a crease of his knuckle sometimes. He does not dive my contracts. I do not pretend he is the only cock I…
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