Supernatural

Chapter 9: SPRITES

Steve had been through a painful and rather messy divorce which had, over the months drained him physically and emotionally, and left a large hole in his finances. Just before meeting the girl who was to become his wife he had started taking sailing lessons and found he had both an aptitude and an increasing passion for it. But the girl hated both the sea and anything that floated on it, and also made quite clear that she didn't really take to any of his new boating friends. So he had regretfully dropped the idea and got on with their new life together.

But now, with that all behind him the thought of sailing returned, it would give him new things to do, a way of meeting new people, and if the promise he had previously shown bore fruit, well, who knows where it might take him.

So he returned to the club he had previously joined, and over a few beers gave the people he had previously started to get to know a potted history of the disastrous, intervening years. They were understanding, so understanding in fact that the few beers turned to quite a few, and much later that night he fell into his cold and empty bed quite happily.

His lessons went well and the skills he had started to learn quickly came back, then rapidly improved, and although at first they were quite supernumerary positions, he did begin to be offered places on some of the club members' boats.

Of course as well as the sheer joy of sailing sometime most week-ends, there was the accompanying social life of the club. Both male and female companionship was there for him, although he wisely kept the various tentative approaches he received from one or two women, at arm's length. It was too soon after his painful and expensive experience with his ex-wife to start down that route again, at least for a while.

Not that he wouldn't have enjoyed the occasional romp. His sex-life had always been active, and even during the last few weeks before their eventual and acrimonious parting he and his wife had still been able to both excite and satisfy each other. So although his work and his new week-end activities filled his life quite satisfactorily, he was all too well aware that there was still some essential aspect of it that was not being taken care of.

But he did his best to push those needs to one side, taking what solace he could find in masturbating himself when the urgency grew just too strong.

When he heard that the club was organising a special event for the next holiday long week-end he immediately added his name to the list of those wishing to be included. The plan, weather permitting of course, was for them to spend the week-end at a marina resort a few hours sailing up the coast. As well as the trips there and back would be a series of races being organised for the other day, and in the evenings, dinner dances with members of the resort's club.

The prospect was really exciting, lots of sailing, including his first taste of going out on the ocean, albeit just in the fairly predictable coastal waters, plus the chance to meet still more new people. Then when he had no trouble finding a place on one of the more senior members larger boats for the outward and return trips, and the promise of one on one or other of the smaller boats for the actual races, he began to really forward to the three days.

The week-end started out really well, the first day dawning bright and clear, with a light breeze from the south-west that gave them a fast and sometimes exciting trip up the coast. Then, having settled his stuff in the motel arranged for them, they had a late lunch at the club-house before readying the boats for the following day's racing during the rest of that afternoon.

Drinks at the bar gave them more time to mix with the other club's members and their wives or girl-friends and by the time they sat down to eat everyone had already started to have a really good time. The atmosphere got even livelier as the evening progressed and a rapidly increasing number of bottles of wine were consumed, the jokes getting raunchier and couples freely swapping around, at least on the dance floor.

One woman in particular had caught his eye the moment she arrived, a tall, sultry brunette, with a figure she was obviously proud to show off, and which immediately stirred Steve's much neglected sex-drive. As she had arrived with a quite large group of the resort club's members he had no way of knowing who she was partnering and really didn't like to risk showing his interest by asking questions. But although she was sitting nowhere near him he could see her quite clearly and several times during dinner he caught her looking in his direction, their eyes meeting and then hers holding his gaze quite unselfconsciously.

So when the dancing had been going for some time and he saw her temporarily left on her own, he made a bee-line for her, and was delighted when she accepted his invitation with a steamy look that seemed to ask him why he had waited so long.

She moved beautifully, and sensually, pressing herself so close that every step resulted in some part of her brushing against him. And as the dark red dress she was wearing seemed to have been cut with the intention of displaying as much of her magnificent breasts as possible, each time he glanced down he was treated to a disturbingly exciting view.

The combination of that view and the way she was moving soon had the predictable effect and he felt his cock lengthening, thickening and then quickly stiffening. But, when her brushing thigh encountered the unmistakable bulge, rather than being embarrassed by his reaction she looked up and smiled, at the same time pressing her leg more firmly against him, then spent the rest of the dance apparently trying to arouse him even more.

After that promising experience he simply had to know more about her, and although in one way not really surprised, was none the less annoyed to learn she was the wife of the host club's skipper, and that she had a reputation as being a classic 'cock-teaser'. So, even though he was disappointed that his hopes of what he felt sure would have been a fantastic bout of love-making had been shattered, he was pleased that he had been saved from making a complete fool of himself.

But when he got back to his motel room much later that evening he found he couldn't get rid of either the image of her, or the thoughts of what it might have been like to hold her superb body in his arms. And those images and thoughts followed him in his sleep, but in his dreams they were images that had been stripped of their thin veneer of decency and constraint.

She was a tiger, screaming with delight as his inexhaustible cock pistoned into either her arse or her cunt. Biting his shoulder and raking his back with her long, blood-red finger-nails as he took her to yet another jolting, shuddering climax. Then even when he thought he was done, squeezing and rolling his depleted cock between those incredible breasts until it was reinvigorated enough for her to suck on, then gurgling with satisfaction as she gulped down the ensuing gouts of semen.

The dream had been so strong that much of it remained with him when he woke the next morning, and he even found that just recalling some of the detail while taking his shower was more than enough to give him a very demandingly uncomfortable erection. Having got rid of it in the quickest way he knew, and after making sure he hadn't left any of the sticky residue on the tiles, he dressed and headed off for a much needed break-fast.

When he went into the dining room he found half a dozen of the two club's officials in urgent conversation, and learned that during the night many people had gone down with what looked like an attack of mild food poisoning. Although none were really seriously ill, many would be unable to take an active part in the day's events, and having decided that completely cancelling things was not warranted, the reduced numbers meant that only a reduced number of races could be held.

Much to Steve's disappointment he found that both the boats he'd been offered possible places on had been scratched, but when the club secretary saw the look on his face he suggested Steve might like to do a bit of solo sailing instead.

Although it just wasn't the same as being part of a crew, it would be a lot better than mooching around the clubhouse all day, so he gratefully accepted. He told them that he hadn't done very much single-handed sailing but was assured that the boat was foolproof, and although the weather conditions had changed over-night, they would cause him no problems.

So having got the details of where the boat was moored, and thanked the secretary for his kindness, he left them to finish their more important task and went off to get himself something to eat.

Having located the small skiff and familiarised himself with its rig he then only had to decide where to take it, up the estuary and into the river that fed it, or down, and out to sea. He had enjoyed the sail up the coast the previous day so much that the prospect of being out, if only a little way, was really very tempting. If the south-westerly they'd had had still been blowing he certainly wouldn't have risked it, but the wind had swung round during the night and was no more than a gentle breeze from the north-east, so he made up his mind and headed down river.

The boat was just as easy to sail as he had been told it would be and Steve quickly found his confidence in both it and his abilities growing stronger and by the time he crossed the imaginary line where river turned to sea, he was really enjoying himself.

He continued sailing North for another couple of hours, being sensible and careful not to get too far off the coast, and keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of danger or change in either the sea or the sky. Having picked-up a small packed lunch that had been thoughtfully provided by club before he left he had no need to hurry back, and as the lightness of the breeze enabled him to tack leisurely upwind he was enjoying a sense of real freedom. There were so many small things that gave him pleasure, as well as the regular motion of the boat itself there were the occasionally wheeling gulls, and once, even a small pod of apparently curious dolphins. So most of the time he was quite content to enjoy what the surrounding elements had to offer.

But, at least from time to time, he found the thoughts and images the sultry brunette had inspired returning, and he at some stage even found himself wondering if it would be possible to actually fuck in a boat as small as the one he was sailing. The contortions that would be necessary made him smile, and he decided that the effort probably wouldn't be worth it with most women. But there had been something about the skipper's wife, 'cock-tease' or not, she was definitely something special, and with her, well perhaps the effort would be worthwhile.

His plan had been to sail up as far as a prominent headland before heading a little further out to sea and then eat his lunch once he had started on the down wind run back to the estuary. And everything went smoothly until just after he had finished eating.

Of course by then the day had grown quite hot and although the breeze off the ocean was cooling when he looked towards the shoreline he could see the heat haze thickening. Then, still a little way ahead of him, he saw a small patch that seemed to be defying the wind and current's direction and drifting across his course. But as he could still see the vague outline of the shore-line through it he was unconcerned, just as the dolphins had been curious about his boat, he was equally so about the drifting patch of mist.

But then, as he headed into its outer fringes it seemed to suddenly thicken and within a matter of seconds he could see no more than a few metres in any direction. And then to make matters worse, the wind died completely away. He was still trying to decide whether or not to trim his sails a bit when another boat loomed through the mist and as it appeared to be totally becalmed his forward motion took him alongside.

It was obviously a big ocean going yacht, not quite a full maxi, but not far off it and as he called out to get the attention of the crew he noticed it was stripped down to just a single storm sail, which, given the surrounding conditions, immediately struck him as rather odd. Even more odd was the fact that several more loud calls went unanswered, so he used the overhanging lines to pull himself aft, where he tied-up, then scrambled up the short stainless steel ladder to the deck.

The deck and all the gear were beautifully maintained and he saw that all the lines had been neatly stowed, there was no sign of any work being unfinished, but still no sign of any crew, not even anyone on watch.

But then as he began to make his way along the deck a figure came up out of the forward hatch, a girl, perhaps in her late teens. At first he supposed she had just come from taking a shower, at least that was his only explanation for what she was wearing. It was just a short, very short, wrap-around thing, made of some sort of white linen, but held in place by a very ornate belt made of intricate links of a gold coloured metal. But although, because it was just so incongruous it what she was wearing that first caught his attention, when he took a second look he forgot all about her strange dress.

She was stunning, almost as tall as himself, the long length of her shapely legs and the curve of her nicely rounded hips and slender waist accentuated by the shortness of the wrap-around and tightness of its belt. Although the actual shape of her obviously full breasts were disguised by the looseness of its folds, her face, framed with long wavy black hair, was one that would tempt a saint. Heart shaped, with wide set dark brown eyes, eyes that reflected both the surprise and pleasure he somehow felt sure she was feeling at seeing him there.

She beckoned to him to go forward and as he did so, without saying a single word she turned and went back down below. Naturally he followed her, and had a second, even bigger shock when he saw the cabin.

At first he thought it was some architectural trick, that something had been done to create an optical illusion of space that wasn't, simply couldn't be there, because the apparent space below deck was enormous.

Aft, obviously painted on the curving cabin wall was a mural, but done in such life-like detail that he could have sworn he was standing there looking at an actual view. It looked very Mediterranean, he recognised cypress trees, and what might have been an olive grove, then a small, Greek looking temple made from some brilliantly white stone. The effect had been enhanced by continuing the mural down the sides of the cabin, the detail and perspective were so exact that the sense of three dimensional reality that had been created was unnerving.

In the middle ground, so to speak, the theme was continued, there was actually something that looked like a white stone balustrade running across the cabin, flanked at either end by a couple of marble looking statues, and overhung by some remarkably well nourished, but presumably potted trees.

The impact of the effect was so strong it completely disoriented him, made his head spin, and for a few moments he completely forgot the stunning girl who had brought him down there. But only for a few moments, he shook his head to clear it, then turned, and what he saw there made him positively dizzy with disbelief.

The ladder he had just come down seemed to have vanished, just disappeared, as had the physical limitations of the cabin walls. He was no longer standing on a timber deck, but a marble tiled floor, in what appeared to be someone's idea of the inside of a temple similar to the one pictured in the mural. There were more statues placed around the area, and at the far end, raised up on some sort of plinth and several times larger than life size, was another, of a totally naked woman.

But although he subconsciously took in some of that detail what really caught and held his attention were the two pillow strewn couches just a few metres away, on one, the girl he had seen on deck, and on the other, another, in some ways even more stunningly attractive girl.

And, like the statue behind them, both were absolutely stark naked.

Steve knew he must have looked like some village idiot, standing there just gawping at them in sheer disbelief. But, as though they understood how he was feeling, they were both smiling up at him. Then the first girl spoke.

Her voice was soft, yet in a strange way also commanding. 'Undress now! You are here to both enjoy, and give us enjoyment. You may, if you wish to, call us by name, address myself as Parissa and my sister as Aspea.'

Steve said that although there was something odd about the way she spoke the effect of her voice was as powerful as the illusion of the painted walls had been. Until that moment he had been too astonished by what he'd seen to even consider the reason for the women's nakedness, but he suddenly felt all the long pent up sexual frustrations boiling up inside himself. And as he began to do what the girl had told him to do he took his first really good look at what was being offered.

His first, all too brief impressions of Parissa's beauty were confirmed. Her breasts were as full and as firm as he had anticipated they would be, and without the wrap-around he got the chance to appreciate the true sensual perfection of all her other slender, but still well rounded curves.

Aspea was in some way even more sexually arousing. Her body was even more voluptuous, her breasts, although equally firm, were larger, her aureoles and nipples slightly darker, her hips just a little more pronounced. But as well as all the obvious differences it was the way she lay that gave Steve an indication of her even greater sensuality, the inviting, almost wanton way she had left her legs splayed carelessly apart.

Although from where he was standing he couldn't actually see down between her thighs, he could see the neatly trimmed triangle of jet-black hair that covered her mound, and he felt himself licking his suddenly dry lips as he thought of what lay just below it.

He looked up, at her face, and found a pair of equally dark eyes watching him, a half smile curled the corner of her blood-red mouth and having held his gaze for a few moments she looked down, watching as he finally tugged off the last of his clothes, his briefs.

Although it had been rapidly filling, his cock was at that moment not fully erect, but freeing it gave it more room to move and as he continued staring at Aspea he felt it starting to jerk upwards. Her smile broadened a little when she saw the movement, then she slipped one hand down between her thighs as she watched its continuing progress even more intently.

When she was sure it had reached maximum size and hardness she moved, pushing a large pillow beneath herself to lift her hips higher, then spreading her legs wide as she beckoned him forward. Even before he moved he felt the same briefly swirling dizziness he'd experienced before, and when it cleared he realised that there was absolutely nothing else in his life that was more important than doing what Aspea wanted him to.

He saw the furls of soft, pink flesh glistening wetly, felt his cock twitching, as though in anticipation of feeling them clinging to it, and moved forward. She lifted her legs as he approached, then he felt her fingers closing around his cock and it was already so hot that her fingers felt almost ice cold by comparison. He heard himself give a low gasp of both surprise and pleasure, then another that was deeper and louder when she guided its head into the slit between those moistly pouting folds.