A Meeting at Sea

It was a beautiful sunset, the kind that folks on the west coast get to see all time. The passengers stood at the rail of the 86-foot long Avenger to see the early summer sun sink and fade from the horizon, the deep orange blaze splashing on a few wispy clouds. The majestic wooden tall ship had made its way from New Bedford and through the canal, taking two dozen sightseers on a weekend excursion to Boston. Now, in the open waters of Cape Cod Bay, all Tara could see were the dim lights of a distant shore.

"Hi. Nice night, huh?" said the man next to her. She remembered him from dinner at the captain's table.

"Yeah, breathtaking. You're Ari, right?"

"That's right, and you are ... Tara. You had the whole dinner table spellbound with your story about self-defense with common objects. How do you know so much about that sort of thing? You're not with the British Secret Service, are you?"

"Maybe," she smiled. "And you? Decide to leave Plato and Socrates behind and come mingle with the common folk?"

"Hardly," he paused. "And you are far from common."

She smiled again. "Maybe," she replied coyly.

They made their way quietly to the bow of the great ship and stood listening to the water rush by beneath them. They chatted about small things, moving closer ostensibly to hear better above the din of the waves. She brushed her hand across his. He touched her arm. She put a hand on his chest. He drew her to him, and surrounded by the darkness and the stars, they kissed.

Softly at first, then the tips of their tongues met and danced together like partners on the dance floor. The rush of passion, along with the rhythmic heaving of the ocean swells, made them both a little lightheaded.

"Whoa. I think I need to sit down," she whispered. Well, she did feel a little wobbly, but it didn't have anything to do with the waves. They stood, embracing like Kate and Leo in Titanic until the coincidence hit them both and they laughed, and strolled back to the ship's main salon.

It was late, and the place had cleared out by now. It had an eerie feeling, like a ghost ship plowing into the night.

"This is weird, eh?" she said, half joking.

"Very. Let me walk you to your cabin?"

Instead, she kissed him again. Now, in the calm indoors, they could feel the warmth of each other's skin, hear the rough breathing and soft gasps. His arm around her waist. Her fingers around the back of his neck. "Yes," she said. "My cabin."

The staterooms were small, but elegantly appointed. He closed and latched the door while she turned on a soft lamp. Alone, unhurried now, they both took a breath.

"You're sure you're not British Intelligence, are you?" he joked. "I'm ready to confess everything."

She slowed began to unbutton his shirt, the tips of her fingers exploring the contours of his chest.

"Maybe I am," flicking an errant fingernail crisply across one of his nipples. He drew a quick breath and she could feel him eyeing her hotly.

The two took their time undressing one another, catching glimpses of their warmly lit bodies in the various mirrors that designers install to make tiny cabins feel more spacious. They tasted the salty sea air left on their lips.

She loosened his belt, undid the button fly and he stepped out of his jeans. Her hand reached down and firmly cupped his crotch. He was hot and hard against her wrist.

"Hmmm. Yes, but don't get ahead of me," he teased. He took her wrist and drew her hand to his lips, kissing and sucking on the tips of her fingers. While she was distracted, he lay his other hand against her now bare panties.

She moaned sharply, then laughed. They peeled off their remaining bit of clothing and embraced, feeling, seeing, and smelling each other's warm bodies.

"Come to bed," she bid him. "I want to get to know you, Ari. Show me how you touch yourself."

A little abashed, he replied "You really are a British spy, aren't you? Well, you're going to kill me afterwards anyway, so why not."

He laid back on the bed and she sidled up next to him, her head propped on one arm and the other hand caressing his thigh. His cock stood hard, now aching with anticipation. He looked at her, then wrapped his left hand around the shaft. Then slowly traced tip of the fingers on his right hand along the ridge of the deep red crown. His left hand slid down to grab the base, pulling the skin a little tauter. Tara's mouth watered.

He turned to look at her and silently put his finger tips to her mouth. She instinctively parted her lips and wet the long digit with her tongue. She could see that he was imagining his cock in her mouth, saw out of the corner of her eye that each time she licked his finger his cock hardened -- the head swelling and straining.

He took the wet finger and placed it on the smooth skin of the shaft. Then slowly moved from tip to base, his left hand holding the rod firm and steady. She watched, transfixed. And he watched her watching.

"See, right up here near the head is wildly sensitive," he told her through his increasingly heavy breathing. "I imagine that this is what your clit feels like to you." His finger lingered there, now making small circles. She could feel sympathetic tingles between her own legs and her fingers involuntarily dug deeper into his thigh.

"More," he whispered as he put his fingers to her mouth. She eagerly took him in again, teasingly taking the full length of his finger and swirling her tongue around it as she withdrew. He returned his fingers to his cock, massaging the long shaft and making increasingly urgent circles and strokes at the top. She placed her hand on his, and like figure skaters, slid together up and down his hard cock.

Then he stopped.

Breathlessly, he said, "Well, Ms. Spy Person. You've extracted your secrets. Now it's my turn."

"No. No. You're not going to tease and run like that, Mr. Aristotle," and she wrapped her fingers hungrily around his cock.

"Patience, I have an idea." Tara rolled on her back and Ari turned to her. She could feel him stiffen as he saw how wet she had become. "Roll over on your side, Tara, and let me lay behind you." She warily complied. He spooned her, his body pressed against her back and his cock laying in the crack of her ass. It was nice, and they both took a moment. The quiet. The gentle motion of the boat. The warmth of their bodies. Like hearing in the early dawn, the silence sharpened their senses and small touches rang like thunder. Their fingers intertwined in a symphony.

Then, Ari shifted his weight and slid his hard cock between her thighs. She opened her knees a bit to accommodate him.

"Look, now I've got one!" she joked, wrapping her hand around the member appearing between her legs. He moaned hotly in her ear as she ran the tips of her fingers against his shaft. Then he reached around and joined her.

"How about like this?" He guided her hand and they pressed the head of his cock against her clit, the shaft resting against her engorged lips. He felt her shudder with pleasure. Then he led her fingertip to the spot at the top of his shaft, and pressed. They both shuddered -- her fingers on him, grinding his thick head into her aching clit.

He let his hand go. "Now, you show me."

She let herself get lost in it, massaging herself with his stiff cock. She imagined every electric spark she was feeling was echoing along his shaft. Then he started to move his hips, slowly drawing the head up and down along her sex just an inch or so. His hand firmly on her hip, pulling himself deep between the flesh of her thighs. Then withdrawing a little more, exposed her erect red bud.

Her hand followed the head of his cock, but he whispered, "Your turn now" and moved her hand back to her own wet body. She complied, stroking and rubbing her pussy while his cock slid further down her lips. One inch up, two down, until the head rested at the opening of her sex and he paused.

She paused too, then slowly, she eased down onto him. Enough to feel his head fill her. The wet warmth drove him crazy, but they lay there in the calm silence -- on fire. Then he withdrew and pushed himself back along her lips to graze her clit with his crown. She seized his cock, now wet with her own juices, and rubbed it against herself with abandon. Ari reach around again, their hands together in a frantic blur.

"I'm coming Ari. Ari. Ari, I'm coming."

He came first, his hot spunk flooding their hands and her clit. It put her over the top and she cried out, the two of them writhing, holding each other's orgasming cores.

Then, the quiet again. They laughed a little, out of joy and contentment, as the gentle waves sent them off into the sleep of night.