I was fortunate, my goodness was I? A whole two weeks without Ripper...in the care of Able Seaman Dusty Miller. The day Ripper left for Malta, Dusty had provided an excellent service to me on the moors and now, each waking moment was spent considering how best to use the Watch Keeper. My vulva was barely dry, always lubricated in anticipation.
The morning was particularly gorgeous when my next adventure, well the one I am going to tell you about anyway, occurred. I was at breakfast, Jenkins the Steward was serving me, I eat sparsely most of the time because when dining with Ripper, officially, the meals were what could be termed substantial.
"Jenkins?"
"Yes Madam."
"Would you be so kind, send for the Watch Keeper please?"
"Certainly Madam, do you require the car?"
"No Jenkins, not for the moment."
"Very good Madam."
Jenkins departed and shortly Able Seaman Miller arrived dressed in his eights, (working dress) with a large sponge in his hand.
"What are you doing Miller?"
"Cleaning the car Madam."
"Do you sail Miller?"
"Occasionally Madam."
"Can you handle a dinghy?"
"Certainly Madam, do you wish to sail today?"
"Well, it is a lovely day, and I think its ideal."
"Quite right Madam, would you like me to book a dinghy?"
"Not necessary, I will contact the jetty and get them to prepare Ripper's boat."
"What time do you require me madam and what dress of the day?"
"Ten o'clock, and boating rig. Make that casual if you like."
"Very well Madam."
"Dismiss." He turned and left.
"Jenkins."
"Madam?"
"Can you provide me with a bag meal for two, bottle of white and a coffee flask please, for ten o'clock."
"Very well Madam."
Ten o'clock and Dusty was at the door with the car, and typical 'Jack Tar' off duty, very smart, very tiddly. Jenkins was in the hall with the bag meals etc in a small hamper which he handed to Dusty to stow in the car.
It was a short drive to the jetty, a few formalities, and Dusty stowed our clothing and meals in the dinghy as I was gaining clearance. There were certain benefits to being Ripper's wife today I was cashing in. I was given the movement orders for vessels in the area.
Dusty set the sail, I cast off the bow line, and very nearly came to grief as the boat moved away from the jetty, I almost split my difference and just managed to get my right leg into the boat as we started moving away from civilisation.
The boat was rocking a bit as well as surging forward, so in Dusty's words, I have been learning a few of his more coarse terms, aren't they erotic, I landed on my arse in the bottom of the boat.
My legs of course were everywhere, the only reason he was not looking at my vul sorry, pussy was the thin strip of fabric which formed the gusset of my cotton shorts. Recovering my balance, I managed to perch myself on a seat in the bow.
It was a lovely feeling of freedom, the breeze blowing through my hair cooling my face, and my midriff, I unbuttoned my blouse then tugged the tie at the waist, allowing the garment to blow in the wind.
Dusty, on the helm, was smiling broadly...
"More! More!" he shouted.
What the hell, I thought, we are alone, there was no other vessel anywhere near us, so reaching behind I undid the clasp of my brassier and divested myself of the encumbrance. Now with my breas sorry tits exposed to the air the tingle started, my nipples stiff, I was feeling quite needy, it had been about a week since my visit to the moors with Dusty when I had a very fulfilling day's exercise.
"Come Fanny, sit here." Dusty indicated a seat by his side.
I moved down the boat, my tits, as I was not in the first flush of youth were swaying gently as I moved. I sat where Dusty had intended.
"Where are we to go, or are we just to sail around?"
"Ginger Mount Isle."
"That's not on the tourist trail, no one ever goes there."
"Exactly."
We laughed together.
We were close enough for Dusty to snake out his tongue and lick if not suck my nipples. That only served to increase my needs, I shuddered, the frisson of stimulation. I couldn't resist the urge to reach out and fondle the treasure enclosed within his shorts, a hand up the leg made the task less of a task than a pleasure. A naughty enjoyable pleasure.
I suppose that we had been on the water about half an hour when we beached the dinghy on Ginger Mount the sudden stop as we hit the beach was sufficient to throw the two of us in a heap in the bottom of the boat, rattling the wine bottles.
I was in no great rush to get out of the boat, I was quite happy with him nestled between my thighs, I engaged his lips, and made suggestive movements of my hips. We only stayed like that for a few minutes before he removed himself and assisted me from the boat.
Two duffle bags and the hamper were disembarked, and between us we moved them off the beach, I lead the way, because I had been on Ginger Mount before, and I had a fair idea where to find the secret hollow.
Dusty left me in the hollow and returned to the beach, it was essential that he secure the dinghy, we wouldn't be watching it and didn't want it to drift away. While he was gone, I rummaged in the bags and found the rug, which I spread on the ground in the secret hollow.
The hollow was a decent size, the surround was somewhat higher than the middle part and between the middle and the sides there were numerous rock formations of varying sizes and arrangements. By the time Dusty returned I had cast off my upper garments and greeted him with bouncing tits, the freedom was delicious.
Approaching me, I turned my back to him, he snuggled up to me his hands came round and cradled my tits, his thumbs teasing my erect nipples. I shivered, I could feel his hardness against my shorts, attempting to snuggle between my buttocks. I leaned my head back alongside of Dusty's, turning slightly to kiss him.
I could but sigh as I savoured the sensations his hands engendered in me, positioned as we were it was not possible to kiss fully and was therefore far from satisfactory.
I turned in his arms, my tits pressed to his still covered chest, and now, to my great pleasure his cock was pressed against my mons and belly. We kissed deeply, deeply, tongues engaged in tonsil tickling fencing each trying to spear the other.
Slowly we sank to our knees, the mouth contact not breaking, I, wrestling his shirt from his body to cast it aside on the soft sand. My tits enjoying the coarse rasping of his chest hair to tease them to even further stiffness.
We rolled onto our side, fondling, groping, kissing tongue fencing, Dusty's hands were more than active. I too had needs, firstly to touch him, to demonstrate in that touch the affection I had developed for this sturdy Able Seaman and then to sate my lust for him.
Freeing my arms from their entrapment between us, I worked them down his muscular form till I reached the top of his shorts. We did not cease our osculations as I rolled him onto his back, well not until that is, that I climbed onto the tops of his thighs. I leaned down to dangle my tits near his mouth in the hope that the hint, the offer to suckle would not be missed, while I busied my fingers to unbutton Dusty's shorts.
I wasn't too disappointed, to the extent that the suckling distracted me from my intended task and it was a real effort to concentrate on revealing the weapon of choice for the up coming battle of the genitals.
Dusty's fingers intruded up the leg of my shorts, striving no doubt to engage the furrow he had ploughed a few times in the past. Whilst he did get to the target area, the invasion was thwarted by the tight pair of briefs I was wearing, having considered that French knickers were unsuitable to wear under shorts.
Climbing from him, I lay beside him, and took his weapon in my hand, he undid my shorts waist and delved within still the briefs defeated him and he failed to reach his, and my, objective. I stood, my shorts fell to my ankles and I stepped from them. I was clad now in a pair of transparent nylon briefs which certainly displayed my auburn curls yet protected the vital furrow.
His hand grasped the waistband of the briefs and made a little space, suddenly the briefs were invaded, the curls parted and the furrow teased open. On an instant, I orgasmed one almighty shudder coursed through me, a simple touch to that vital part had formed the overture to the early matinee performance.