Standing by the deck rail in the pre-dawn hour, I gazed at a billion stars, uncontested by the new moon, like a blizzard that would never descend. I thought back to the dream which had awakened me; not so much a dream as a memory, brought to life by sweet slumber. I was back in the arms of my dear Mariah, tasting her wanton kisses on my lips, caressing the swell of her breast. The knowledge that this would be our last night together for many months, perhaps even years had driven us to an almost insatiable pitch of desire. I covered her face and neck with urgent kisses. I sought to devour her, take her whole being inside me, carry her with me across the sea.
I kissed her eyes, her warm, flush cheek, the hollow of her throat. I gathered her breasts in my hands and nestled my face between them, cherishing their softness, their life-giving warmth. I alternately kissed and licked and suckled one insistent nipple, then the other. Mariah gasped with pleasure, her taut stomach quivering, beckoning. I heeded her call, trailing hot kisses down her body, savoring every morsel of her flesh as I made my way to the seat of her desire. Her musky scent welcomed me as I grazed her downy fur with my nose and lips. I blew softly, watching the fine, dark hairs dance and wave and part, offering teasing glimpses of the treasure they barely concealed. I reached out my tongue and nudged the very top of her cleft, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from my lover. Emboldened, I gently probed her tender outer lips, parting them, teasing them, tasting them, coaxing the sensitive nubbin from its hooded sheath. Slowly, almost shyly, her clitoris swelled, venturing timidly from hiding place like a kitten begging to be petted. Lifting it with my tongue, I drew that sensitive button between my lips, sucking it like a teat, painting the tip in broad strokes with my tongue. Mariah shook and moaned, thrashing her head back and forth, the wetness growing between her legs giving further testament to the height of her passion.
With one long final lick up the length of her love, I released her vulva from my oral assault and moved upward, leaving a trail of licks and kisses up her body, between her breasts. At the moment our lips touched, my throbbing cock head came to rest at her opening. Her wetness seemed to draw me in, deeper and deeper, until her dark down nuzzled my coarse, red curls. For long moments we stayed, two bodies joined, two hearts intertwined, two souls existing as one life. We devoured one another's mouths, lips, tongues with kisses of fire and desperate longing. Without a word we began to move our hips in unison. No pumping or thrusting, we simply ground against one another, unwilling to yield an inch of our union. The muscles of her vagina caressed and claimed my cock, making it as much a part of her body as of mine, drawing it to her irresistible will. I had neither the ability nor the desire to resist.
With a shuddering groan, I poured my love deep into Mariah's womb, as she received it with a cry of woeful ecstasy. This intense physical, spiritual joy in the face of impending separation overwhelmed me. Hot tears rolled down my face, splashing onto Mariah's cheek, mingling with her own.
And now, standing on deck beneath the canopy of stars, the tears returned, welling forth from reluctant eyes. Though we had parted many months ago, I could still feel the heart-pounding waves of passion, smell the scent of our lovemaking, mingled with the salt air and...smoke! I smelled smoke! Looking around, I saw a faint orange glow emanating from the window above the galley. Racing aft, I looked through the window, down onto a scene from Dante. The galley was consumed in flames. The fire had eaten through the wooden floor, and was dripping burning embers into the hold below.
At Madagascar, we had taken on a special cargo: seventy barrels of black powder! I ran to the warning bell amidships to sound the alarm, but the first toll from the bell was answered with a deafening explosion. The deck erupted in a riot of smoke and flame, catapulting me thirty feet into the air. Plummeting toward the water, I saw the ship, eviscerated by the blast. I plunged into the warm tropical water head first, sinking several feet before regaining my senses and struggling for the surface. When I broke through, I was greeted with a scene of utter desolation. With its midsection gone, the ship had folded upon itself, bow and stern alike reaching towards the heavens in a pleading gesture which the stars refused to answer. Swirling slowly, the doomed ship disappeared beneath the still waters. The only remnants of this once proud vessel were a rapidly dispersing waft of smoke, a few smoldering splinters of wood, and me. And floating in this desolate stretch of ocean, I had no doubt that I would soon share my ship's fate.
Suddenly, out of the blackness, I heard a plaintive cry. At first I hoped for a fellow survivor. But the sound came again, from above. Looking up, I saw the first ray of dawn catch on a flutter of alabaster wings. A gull! But how? Our charts showed no landfall for three days! Turning away from the site of the wreck, I say a faint gray shape emerge. An island, and a large one, not a half a league away! Praying that it was not an illusion, I began to swim. In the time it took to cover the distance, the sun had risen, revealing a lush green landscape surrounding the islands volcanic center. As I approached the shore, the swells turned to waves. Exhausted from my ordeal, I was tossed like a rag doll in the crashing surf, until I was eventually deposited, retching and sputtering upon the sandy beach. I crawled beyond the reach of the surf, and collapsed.
After a few minutes rest, I looked around at this land which would likely be my final home. The beach extended for twenty or thirty yards, before giving way to lush, tropical vegetation. The trees were alive with birds of a thousand colors. Peering deep into the thick foliage, I thought I saw something move. Then a sparkle of sunlight glinting off of metal. Then another. I stood and began walking toward the forest. I hadn't gone a dozen steps when I was stopped cold by the sight of a score of native warriors emerging as one from the trees! Each held a formidable spear, topped with a vicious metal point. Their loins were girded with animal skins, and their olive flesh was decorated with bright war paint that covered their faces and encircled their.... Breasts?!?!?
They were women! Each and every one of them a perfect specimen of female strength and grace. Their lithe, athletic bodies were an alluring contrast to the menace of their approach, not to mention their weapons. Weapons! I reached behind me, and pulled out my pistol. It was loaded, but even if it had survived the swim to shore, there was only one shot in it, and twenty of them. My only hope was intimidation. I raised the gun n both hands above my head and pulled the trigger. Thunder roared as my trusty pistol spewed fire and smoke into the air. The warriors froze. The sight of this six foot man, with pale skin and flaming red hair, who had emerged from the fire on the ocean, and summoned thunder to his will was just too much for them. They dropped their spears as one and fell prostrate before me. I could not understand their native babbling, but it rang of a plea for mercy.
