It was a family holiday that Jo wasnât looking forward to. Stuck on a boat with both her parents and 12 other strangers, all as old as her folks, didnât really seem like her idea of fun. Sure, in theory, it was great. Two weeks cruising the Turkish coastline in the sun, stopping every few hours to swim in a secluded bay, food and drink whenever you wanted it, and best of all it was all paid for by someone else. But Jo just couldnât get excited. It felt more like going to âParent Campâ with 24 hour surveillance and no chance of escape. But at least sheâd be able to come back with a decent tan.
Four hours after take-off, and another 3 hours on a bus, and Jo, avec family, arrived at the harbour in Marmaris. It was a lot busier than she was expecting, and the smell of fish, herbs, petrol, spices and smoke was overwhelming. It was like walking into a foreign movie. Mopeds beeping, market traders selling their goods, dogs barking and music booming from a bar somewhere down the key, gave the town a vibrant feel and Jo didnât want to leave.
But turning from the town and facing out to sea and all that was forgotten. Despite the idea of spending time with her parents, the thought of really being away from it all was starting to appeal greatly to Jo, and she was itching to get on the boat.
The Captain, Ali, met the three of them at the bottom of the gangplank, and carried their bags on board. Making sure theyâd taken their shoes off (no shoes on boats!) he led them down to their cabins. Jo had one all to herself, and despite it being very small, they had still fit in a double and single bed.
They were the first on the boat and as such it was quite quiet. The boat only held 16, and 4 crew, but it could have taken many more if need be. There were 4 cabins to the front, and four to the back, although most people apparently slept on deck.
The evening trickled on and the other guests arrived. I wonât detail them all hereâŠsuffice to say that they lived up to Joâs expectations of boring old farts with no sense of humourâŠand not a single young man between them. She went to bed early that night, tired after travelling and never met the rest of the crew, although that didnât really bother her as she was sure they would all be old like the captain.
She woke early the next morning around 6 am to find that they had cast off early to avoid the rough water. None of the other passengers were up, and despite what she had been told, not one of them slept on deck. Ducking back downstairs, she slipped into her bikini. Stopping to check herself in the mirror before she went out, she was pleased with what she saw. She wasnât âslimâ, and she didnât have long legs, but her curves were in the right places and she had breasts that Dolly Parton would have been proud of. The white crochet bikini did her justice. Slipping a sarong on she left her cabin and headed to the front of the boat.
The hum from the motor blended harmoniously with the splash of the waves, and as Jo sat with her back against the mast, the rocking sent her drifting back off to sleep. A minute or so later, although she could never be sure how long she slept, she woke up cold and in a shadow. Looking up she followed dark toned legs, over dark shorts, past a perfectly toned stomach and up to a face with smouldering eyes and jet black hair. So this was the crew!
âGood Morning, Iâm Simi. Pleased to meet youâ he said with a cheeky grin breaking on his face.
âIâm Jo. Pleased to meet you toâ she replied as she took his proffered hand. Expecting just to have her hand shaken, she was surprised when he pulled her to her feet.
âCome and seeâ he said as he led her to the very front of the boat. Directing her to look over the front of the boat, he pushed her in front of him and stood behind. In the water beneath them the flying fish were skimming over the waves like sparkling stones bouncing on the water. Watching them go Jo forgot who she was with and as she leaned further over she gave a start as two hands grabbed her waist.
âCarefulâ She stood back but the hands didnât leave her waist until another passenger was heard coming up from below. With a wry grin Simi walked away.
At breakfast the whole crew were introduced again for those who had not met them. There was Ali the captain â short, dumpy, wrinkly, blond: Simi â Tall, slim, toned, sexy: Mehmet â Dark, muscley, broody looking, very sexy: Engin, the chef â short, toned, big brown eyes.
Three out of four aint bad! Though Jo over her bread and feta cheese. At least Iâll have something nice to look at other than the scenery!
Jo spent the rest of that day up the front of the boat with the rest of the passengers, sunbathing, reading, and listening to her walkman. She soon felt claustrophobic. They didnât stop their sail until later that day and as such it was too late to swim. That day really dragged, and she hardly saw any of the crew unless someone wanted a drink, and then it was only a brief glimpse.
The evening dragged, and as everyone else was talking pensions and dentures, or so it seemed, Jo left them at the back of the boat and went up front to star gaze. She was amazed by what she saw. Whether it was just the lack of artificial light, or whether it was because she was further south she didnât know, but the sky was filled with stars. She lay there an awful long time and soon enough she heard people drifting off to bed. It was only when the lights went off over the dining table that she realised everyone had gone. At last she relaxed.
The captain said goodnight as he went down to his cabin, as did Engin and Mehmet. Simi was left to clear up. Aware that he was moving around near her she felt the need to speak, but all words left her. Do you come here often? What do you do? Have you had a good day? All of these seemed so trivial and inappropriate that she said nothing and was content in the silence.
Simi soon finished his work and came and sat down beside her. As he looked up a shooting star passed overhead. It was so clichéd that Jo laughed. Turning to Simi she noticed that he had that same wry smile on his face as he had had that morning.
âIf I had asked for a flying star I would not have seen one, but I donât ask and then I get. Maybe I should stop asking.â He whispered, for sound travels very easily over quiet boats.
With that he too lay down and carried on gazing. Taking Joâs hand in his, he traced the outline of some of the more noticeable constellations on the palm of her hand as he told her their names in Turkish. She never remembered a single one. After the last one he lifted her hand and kissed her palm. Using her breathing as his guide he carried on, kissing his way up each finger before gently sucking on each tip. From there he moved to the inside of her wrist before casting her arm aside in favour of her neck. Without touching her he brought her out in Goosebumps, as his breath tickled the sensitive skin of her neck.
âDo I need to ask?â He whispered into her ear, and with an almost unperceivable shake of her head he moved his head and kissed her, gently at first and then with more fervour. As his tongue snaked into her mouth, his hands snaked up her body from mid thigh to her breasts with increasing pressure. Finding her nipple through her clothes he squeezed gently and it was only through pressing his mouth to hers that he maintained the silence. Continuing his search, he found the buttons on the front of her top and as he undid each one, his mouth followed, and so he kissed his way from her mouth, down to the hollow of her neck and onto her breasts, culminating in him sucking her now erect nipples through her black lace bra. By this point Jo was writhing in pleasure and her hands were roaming over his taut back as she arched her back, thrusting her breasts forwards.
âWe must stop. Someone will see!â She managed to hiss at one point as he pulled away.