Time, as in the concept of days, weeks, months -- had little meaning for them as they were now wealthy, retired and sailing around the world on a beautiful large 130 foot luxury yacht, stopping wherever pleased them. They were both just over their mid-thirties, smart with money not out of greed but because they rejected the constraints of modern society and the rules and the brutality of the capitalist machinery. They wanted freedom and the lack of routine. So, they studied the machine, how it worked, what made it tick and hacked it's clockwork to run for them. As they cruised Europe, their assets made passive income. Technology allowed them to live on this boat and day trade and do other business as they pleased.
At this moment, early afternoon, in the brilliant sun at sea, Annika lay on her back at the front of the beautiful yacht. She was topless, in her white bikini bottoms, lying on her back on a sunbed, the warmth of the sun gentle on her skin and her long hair resting on her bare breasts. They were somewhere south of Greece, he knew exactly; but her ignorance was part of the romanticism of it for her. She was getting tanned, which made her blue eyes even brighter and her platinum blonde hair seem more alarmingly white. She felt like a new person, the shackles of her old life of responsibility left back in civilisation and her new life, on this yacht with her husband, the love of her life, was who she was now. Chris was tall, broad shouldered and barrel-chested, muscular and handsome. He was brilliant; so intelligent, it was his genius with numbers and computers that had them living in luxury in many ways -- and he made her laugh with his sarcastic wit. They clicked on every level, especially with the sex thing, which was very important to Annika, who loved to fuck about five times a day.
A gull flew overhead and Annika opened her eyes, gazing at her large perky breasts in front of her, the small pink rosebud nipples popping to attention as she thought about Chris' mouth, his hands and his cock. Yes, after he had finished messing around with the computer controlled sails, she would keep him busy in another way. She had bought new lingerie in Paris and some toys to have fun with that he hadn't seen yet. She smiled, thinking about surprising him later. Their sex life had always been creative and adventurous. The dark azure sky was like a dome overhead and all she could hear was water thrashing and lapping. The silence sometimes got to her and she wanted excitement but there were the towns for that. As if on cue, Chris called out that they are about to dock in thirty minutes and Annika rolled onto her stomach, her large breasts jiggling as she got up, deciding to go and dress for fun. The balmy sea breeze caught her hair as she walked across deck. Chris watched her, his lust apparent as he admired her bobbing breasts and swaying hips and she wagged her finger at him. Naughty, naughty. She smiled. He was going to like what she got changed into. The problem with this lifestyle was that she missed the sexiness of dressing up. Bikinis, denim cut-offs and flannel shirts got tired after a while...
She padded barefoot down the glossy maple stairs, going below deck to the expansive cabin, with the huge television and all the mods and cons in the salon and the galley -- and everything being perhaps even better fitted out than the average five-star hotel -- they really weren't 'roughing it'. At night, they usually sat in the Chesterfield lounges, eating cheese platters or fresh salmon, whatever the ports brought and watching movies or whatever else. It was like all the good bits of home, with all the stuff like work erased. She walked through the stainless steel galley, into the maple panelled passage, past several closed bedroom doors and into the master. She slipped out of the bikini bottoms, entering the en-suite bathroom. She showered, using Chanel No 5 body wash and moisturiser because he liked it and curled her long platinum hair so it framed her face, cascading down her back.
Annika opened her wardrobe and looking through her large collection of lingerie, she carefully chose an ivory lace underwear set with a push-up bra that thrust her breasts upwards. She dressed in a low-cut white halter sundress with a red cherry print and put on some makeup, pleased with the result. She missed looking so pretty and smelling lovely -- she dabbed perfume behind her wrists and ears, touching some lipgloss on her pillowy lips. Chris said she was beautiful even when they were days into a hike and unwashed; but she knew he secretly adored her dressed up like this. Strutting, she returned to the sunbed. They were meters away from the dock and the yacht swayed hard. Docking the yacht was challenging and Chris' temper flared, so she took a book back to the deck and allowed the locals to help him, staying clear as the men tossed ropes and argued.
Perched on the sunbed, her bare long legs out in front of her, Annika put her book down and looked the cramped hillside town over, a little bored. It resembled every other town they had visited this month and she considered wiping off some eyeliner and covering her ample breasts and naked arms with a cardigan to ward off the religious glares of the older townfolk. These towns were old, cobble-stoned and charmingly Gothic-looking, but underneath the cute antiquity, the cultures were small-minded, weird and superstitious. This town was smaller than the others and she thought that they would walk around it a bit, giggle about its arcane creepiness as they usually did, take pictures of stuff like old ruined tombstones and crumbling steeples and hot-tail it back to the luxurious inside of the yacht. Then go back to sea and perhaps head further north, back to Northern Europe where their friends were staying.
