This story is a re-posting of my earliest work. It has been edited to improve punctuation, grammar and, I hope, readability.
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The mainsail was down and draped over the boom. The Genoa was furled around its stay at the bow. The engine was running on idle in forward as he searched for the right depth on the sounder. He pulled the gear lever back to neutral and let the boat coast toward shore. They were a hundred meters or so from the pebbles on the beach. The sounder reading flicked between five and six fathoms and he pulled the gear lever briefly into reverse to bring the boat to a stop.
He walked forward and took the anchor out of its mount on the superstructure. Lowering it over the side he let it go, watching it sail toward the bottom. He walked back to the wheelhouse and popped the gear into reverse and backed the boat up for a couple of seconds until the he saw the anchor line and chain move out in front.
Back in neutral, he could feel the anchor take its set and switched off the engine. It was very quiet. The little bay was near the houses on shore, and yet nicely out of sight. It was early in the season and few boats were anchored in the popular bay.
Ingrid had gone below to the stateroom. She was now uncomfortably warm in her turtleneck and she needed to change. There was no need for the 'floater vest' since they were at anchor in shallow water.
She pulled off the sweater and looked at herself in the small dresser mirror. She wore a pale blue sleeveless, v-neck top with a very deep 'V' and, as planned, no bra. She pulled off the baggy gym pants, revealing a pair of skimpy, snug white shorts. She took off her canvas shoes and socks and slipped on a pair of flip-flops she had stuck in her ski jacket pocket. Looking in the mirror, she smiled.
While she had gone below, Steve was setting up a table for lunch. The picnic basket was pulled out from the lower cabinet, but had been slipped under the bench seats at the stern.
She took a deep breath, opened the door of the stateroom and walked right into him. She heard his sharp intake of breath and saw his eyes widen as he stepped back, mumbling his apology.
"Holy cow!" was all he could come up with. For a guy who apparently didn't swear, it was the needed compliment. Ingrid put her hands on her hips and turned, first left, and then right, her breasts now swaying to their own rhythm.
"You like?" she asked cheekily.
"Ahmmm ... ah, what can I say. It's not what I expected," he said, his eyes glancing at her breasts that she deliberately kept in motion. "I guess you took my suggestion about loose fitting clothes to heart."
He had his hands up in front of him as if he were surrendering. His eyes seemed to be the size of dinner plates and his jaw had dropped to the point he was in danger of dislocating it. After another long pause and a particularly provocative look from Ingrid, he found his voice.
"My god, Ingrid, what are you trying to do to me?"
"Well, I though first, I might get your attention. Then, I thought I might be able to seduce you. I case you haven't noticed Mr. Inhalt, I have been trying to get you into bed with me. I want you to make love to me. Or maybe, I want to make love to you. I don't care which. It may kill you and it may disappoint me, but I'm damn well going to try.
"Do you find me attractive Mr. Inhalt?" she asked with a demanding tone, her fingers still gripping the side of his arm.
Steve was struggling to regain his composure. She had him completely upside down. She might have felt sorry for him, but it didn't show. He had no experience with someone like her. She had him at her mercy and right now, she wasn't in a merciful mood.
She moved closer to him and pressed her breasts against his chest. She squirmed against him, knowing full well that his reaction would be predictable. She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him tighter against her. She heard him moan and felt his erection against her lower abdomen.
"Score one for Ingrid," she smirked. "The ball's in your court, Mr. Inhalt, in more ways than one!"
"You ... Ms. Solberg, are a temptress," he finally mumbled. "You are taking advantage of me. What am I to do?"
"First you feed me. I've been very busy this morning and we Vikings need nourishment. Then we'll talk about further nourishment I require. Understood?"
She pulled him close again and they kissed again. It was a passionate, fire-breathing, all-consuming kiss. His hands ran over her perfect derriere. He kneaded the wonderfully rounded cheeks and pressed his rigid manhood against her. She lost track of how many kisses and how long they lasted. It must have been some time. He loosened his arms and leaned back to look in her eyes.
"I understand you like my cooking," he said quietly with a smile.
"I told you I'm starved. How many hints do you need?" she smirked.
"OK, have a seat and be prepared to be dazzled," he said, regaining some composure.
They returned to the afterdeck and Steve pulled the picnic basket out from under the bench and with a theatrical flourish, opened it. Inside, folded on top, was a classic red and white checkered tablecloth. He pulled it out with a snap and floated it down on the wooden table in corner-to-side fashion. Next he produced the plates, but not just any plates. These were Royal Doulton fine china with an elegant gold leaf border and a beautifully rendered script 'Matron of the Sea' around the edge. Then he extracted the side plates, also in the boat's name.
Then, genuine silverware with a MS overlapping script engraved in the handle. Finally, two elegant crystal champagne flutes. From the bottom of the basket, he produced a half bottle of Moet. It was already sweating from the warm air and the cold contents. He opened it, removing the wire cap holder and working the cork out slowly until the last millimeter when it produced the mandatory loud 'pop' and sailed overboard. He picked up the champagne flutes and poured two glasses of the famous sparkling white wine and presented one to Ingrid.
"To a lady who only deserves the best!" he exclaimed, offering his glass to her. They clinked. Steve was hopeful he had reclaimed a lot of lost ground in the past few minutes.
