It was pre-evening sunset. The light was odd. I got out my pipes. Angie stripped down to dark skin alone. I grinned at her and said, "Nude. Dance!" I started on one of my 'introductory' slow jigs. Angie went into her stretching routine, but made it slow and sensuous, all the time casting me a 'evil' slutty grin. Lights came on the yachts surrounding us, and some camera flashed went off.
She began her 'Sun Salute' yoga routine, but very done very slow, almost Tai Chi speed, with emphasis on the play of the fading sunlight on her ebony skin. Hands up and over her head, arching back and displaying her bare, glass-smooth pussy opening and long, muscular legs. Down to a crouch, but emphasizing her magnificent ass, momentarily spread wide with questing hands.
This, I morphed my music into 'Lark in the Morning' and then into 'Boolavogue (Buaile Mhaodhog)'. The notes soared as her body reached peaks of stretching and pose. The flashes form the surrounding boats were near continuous.
My dancing woman ascended the cabin-top, there to writhe and pose for searchlights that sought out her every motion. She alternately hid and then revealed her perfect dark-skinned breasts, capped by quivering thick nipples nearly an inch long. I launched back into my compositions: 'Arc of the Sun'. 'The Inter Galaxic Laxative'. 'My Darksome Wench'. 'Dark Breasts in the Deep Night.' Plus other traditional compositions by others.
Angie played out the boom that usually lifted the dinghy on and off the cabin-top and played out some line. Then she slid down that line, to dangle herself off the side of the boat, but well off the now-bare patch of wet sand.
I played 'Port na bPúcaí,' a slow air on Uilleann Pipes. I played 'The Gael' and 'Braveheart' themes. I played 'I Am Asleep' and then played 'The Clumsy Lover.'
Again, how to describe music in words? An image formed, that of Vlad's new wife, receiving a forged letter from the enemy Turk, telling of her husbands death in battle. Her climb up to the highest tower of the castle. Her standing, arms out and face racked with tears, facing the setting sun, as she then flung herself from the battlements, whirling down to the rocks and the weedy water of the lake below. One last scene, of her now serene face above her broken body, floating in the water-grass below the castle of her home, with Vlad.
All this, while my acrobatic woman, now covered with a sheen of sweat and oiled skin, twisted and posed, working that length of rope like the body of a lover. Laying spread out, hanging in space and rotating, so the hidden audience could see all parts of her magnificent body, gleaming in the last red rays of the setting sun.
Then, suddenly, in abrupt full dark, my slutty woman grabbed up 4 marine distress flares and planted two on the stern of the boat, holding on to the other two in her hands. All 4 were lit, as she then posed further, legs up and body open to searchlights and flashes from the surrounding watercraft. Body shame had no place on my boat, as she lay upon the cabin-top in her now-classic Slut's Morning Greeting, legs spread, as illuminated by bright red flares held in hand by thumb alone, as she pulled and stretched her cuntal opening wide, reveling the sheen of light on her most private parts.
I finished with another rendition of 'Caoineadh Cu Chulainn' for the Uilleann Pipes. I evoked the same imagery as before, as I did 4 repetitions of the basic lament, but each different and of increasing difficulty. I doubt I will ever again play as well, my eyes rolled up in their sockets and myself entranced, the tears streaming down my face.
My Goddess of the Dance knelt on the cockpit floor in supplication and lament, legs spread open, holding her breasts out for my touch, her eyes also rolled up in her sockets as her tears fell off her cheeks, down onto her breasts and then to fall on the cabin deck, to mix with mine.
The flares guttered out, one by one.
Then my sex-goddess woman grasped me by my cock, suddenly out and exposed, and dragged me into the cabin, which had all its windows propped open. There, I was stripped and there assaulted by Goddess woman-flesh, who demanded to be penetrated and used. To be pounded. To be taken. To be owned, body and soul. To be made into a screaming, shrieking mass of pulsating female desire and lust.
My ears were partly deafened by the volume of Angie's sex cries and vocal talents. I heard the term SLUT used in many variations, some of which I'd never heard of and a few physically impossible for a man and woman to perform without incurring permanent mutilation and even death. She demanded I penetrate her body with my cock so deeply that I would have injured her for life. I was grasped by arms and legs and then bounced all over the couch, by body contractions alone.
Angie orgasmed continuously, going into Status Orgasmicus (where the end of one orgasm triggered the onset of the next). She forgot to breathe sometimes. I shouted, moaned and thrust, somehow lasting minutes beyond my usual limits, but finally unloading what felt like a half-pint of cunt-yogurt into her oh-so-willing body.
I don't remember passing out. I don't remember the other boats and yachts leaving, one by one. I didn't remember the sunrise or the tide coming back in and re-floating my boat's home. Nor do I remember Angie milking the piss out of my 95% comatose body in the morning. I only woke in around mid-afternoon, feeling that my testicular sack had been emptied. My balls had been near pulled out, everted and my cock retreated to within 1" of my body wall.
"Oh, Gawd, I'll never fuck again," I gasped out.
END of PART 5
