Warmth
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It was quiet.
It was perfect.
The light morning breeze had dropped away to the occasional whispering zephyr which did nothing more than take the edge off the heat of the afternoon sun, blazing down from the deep blue Mediterranean sky. The only sounds were the gentle slap of water against the hull and the quiet chatter of birds in the wooded shore. The yacht pulled lazily at the slack anchor chain, and swung slowly, as if it wanted to change its view of the deserted bay, the sweep of white beach backed by the typical Corsican thicket of hardy, thin leafed shrubs and small trees, the rock strewn hills behind, their grass scorched by the long summer, but waiting patiently for the rains to return and mark the end of another season. The only sign of human habitation was the few sheep patiently tearing at the coarse undergrowth on the distant hills.
She couldn't see all this, but she pictured it in her mind and wallowed in the natural beauty. The heady aromatic smell of the scrub drifted across the water and mingled with the sharper saltiness of the warm sea air. Her closed eyes made every little sound stand out, and she lay and listened to the slap of water, the whisper of the breeze in the rigging and the distant cackling of gulls arguing over a crabshell, washed up in yesterday's storm.
Perfect. The quiet. The calm. The warmth. Especially the warmth. She concentrated on the almost burning heat of the sun beating down on her naked body, her back soaking up the rays like a plant long deprived of water sucking in the first raindrops of autumn. She shifted her legs a little, and felt anew the heat on her thighs and buttocks and the warmth of the smooth wooden deck underneath her.
The quiet clink of glasses told her that her companion was awake, and was coming up on deck. She didn't move, just smiled at how lucky she had been in her choice of sailing partner. The pad of bare feet came closer, and stopped beside. There was a gentle scrape and a clink of ice and glass as a tray was put down, and then silence returned.
The first kiss landed on her sun baked shoulder. Barely touching her, the kiss of an angel, a kiss so light she could hardly tell that it was finished before the lips touched her again, a little lower this time. And a little firmer. This time she could make out the two separate lips and feel their warmth and softness. Gently the lips withdrew again, and moved an inch lower, where they touched, and then pressed, and then gently nibbled her smooth warm skin. She felt them pause here as they explored and tasted her, and widen a little. Almost imperceptibly, she felt the lips joined by a live tongue, which was now quietly licking the sweat and salt from her back.
The touch moved lower, reaching the bottom of her back now, and pushing more firmly. A low moan escaped from her and she felt the lips on her back tighten and widen as a smile spread over them. More confident now, the kissing continued, nibbling at her back and down onto her smooth sun browned cheeks. She took a quiet deep breath and felt her stomach tense and her hips push, unbidden, down onto the deck. The lips moved lower, tickling the soft underflesh where her buttocks met her thighs. Her hips twitched at the touch, and as she settled her legs opened a little wider.
The soft caresses started to move down the back of her legs, tickling, touching, licking, feeling. Touch by touch, kiss by kiss, taste by taste. At the back of her knees she giggled and squirmed. But the magic of the lips stopped her from moving or speaking, and she just grinned and waited as her tormentor addressed her calf and heel, the palm of her foot and finally her toes. She bent her leg at the knee to raise her foot off the floor and the warm wet feel of the tongue between her toes made her squirm and wriggle. And long for more.
A smooth hand clasped the ankle of her raised foot, and gently pushed it to the side. Responding to the unvoiced request she languidly rolled over onto her back, the heat of the sun baked deck searing her skin and the new warmth of the sun soaking into her stomach and breasts. The hand maintained its loose grip, and held her leg off the deck. The lips resumed their exploration of her body, and slowly traced a path of kisses and nibbles up to her knee, and onto the soft skin of her thigh. Her eyes still shut, she smiled an expectant and luscious smile and slipped her legs apart, opening and exposing herself to the exploring lips and tongue. A new womanly scent mingled with the smell of the sea and the aromatic scrub.
Fingertips found the inside of her thighs and traced tiny soft circles, making her hips twitch and her legs push further apart. The lips had reached her hips, and continued up onto her stomach as the fingers stroked up her thighs, getting closer and closer to her, teasing, frustrating. She felt the palm of a hand skim across her tightly curled hair and she involuntarily pushed her hips towards the touch, aching to be stroked and rubbed, to be touched and penetrated and filled. But the hand moved away as quickly as her hips thrust towards it, and she was left straining towards the empty air. The breeze tickled her sensitive lips, increasing her desire.
The kisses paused at her tummy button, and inserted a tongue, making her squirm. Then they disappeared, and in the expectant silence she waited for the next touch. A warm hand appeared on her knee, and slipped up the inside of her thigh, landing softly against her, cupping her sex, rubbing gently. She gasped and ground her hips against the strong palm as one finger, and then another, slipped between her lips and opened her up to the cooling breeze. Resting there, the fingers gently stroked inside her, as she rocked slowly back and forward, abandoning herself to the delicious feeling, so desired and so needed.
