A two-month cruise around the Caribbean in Jason and Abbie's 12-meter yacht. Just the two of us; getting away from the winter. It sounded too good to be true.
"The timing's perfect, Jess," my husband gushed. "You're between jobs, my companies going well. Al can take care of the day to day. You know we've got to spend some time together. We gotta take the chance."
What my husband, Nathan Thomson, said was true. I'd recently quit my job of five years with an international finance company. I'd reached a senior position, had clients in various countries and had charge of seven others. However, I felt stale and needed a change. I intended to find a higher paying role with another company. possibly away from Atlanta.
My salary had allowed Nate to purchase a small company, which he'd done a good job of building up. He'd inherited his second in command Al, who was dependable. He could easily run things in Nate's absence.
"Let's ask him," suggested Nate.
Unsurprisingly, Al was more than happy to be the Boss for a couple of months. I thought about it for a day or so. I knew Nate saying, 'we gotta spend some time together', was code for 'our relationship is struggling right now'. It had been for a year or more. If my work had become stale, so had our relationship. We both worked long hours and time for each other was limited. Our sex life had tailed off and neither of us was particularly happy.
Nate and I had started going together in our last year of High School. However, I'd gone away to College, at which time we agreed to go our separate ways. During those three years I had certainly sown my wild oats. Interestingly, the College men I was attracted too were quite the opposite of Nate, who was small in stature and always well groomed. At College I had always seemed attracted to the rough and ready sports types.
This attraction had puzzled me, but upon my return to Atlanta, Nate and I resumed our relationship and soon married. I'd remained faithful to Nate since. We'd both worked very hard, putting off children, which on reflection might have been a mistake. However, the sacrifices were worth it financially. We were well off, but money didn't buy happiness. Something drastic was needed. I had to admire Nate in making an effort, so I agreed to go.
Nate was over the moon and got back to Jason, who told him the yacht was just sitting there for the winter and we could make our plans as we liked. We placed all our valuables in a safety deposit box and locked up the house, before travelling to the coast. A day later we headed out of the marina and turned south.
Still in our early thirties, Nate was a proficient sailor and I had sailed as well. While this trip was further than we had ever travelled, we'd previously taken Jason's yacht out for weekend trips. We immediately ran into a small storm, which we sailed through with little trouble, increasing our confidence.
I could feel the tensions between us draining away. Early in the journey south we had layers of clothes on to fight the chill, and spent much time below deck. However, as the days passed and the weather warmed, we began to discard these. I was dark haired and tanned easily, so I could stay in the sun. We sailed on past the larger islands, heading for the small islands in the east Caribbean. We'd stocked well and for the first four weeks, remained on the boat.
We were soon enjoying the warm weather and relaxed in each other's company. We read, tanned, swam and ate, whenever we felt like it. This was a luxury for us, coming from our ordered life, which revolved around work. An added benefit was, with all the time on our hands, we were walking around with little clothing on. Not surprisingly, our physical attraction to each other came roaring back to life.
I'd been popular enough to be voted High School Prom Queen and had worked hard to retain my figure. My breasts retained the full, firm nature, which had first attracted Nate as a teenager. However, I'd begun to think this effort had not been worth it, with Nate continually looking past me and commenting about other woman. Now he had no one else to look at and his focus returned to me.
"Oh yes; look at those tits," he would say, when catching me topless on deck. "The best in Georgia; I've always said that."
Such comments would invariably be a pre-curser to some intimate touching and then sex as good as we'd managed for years. I'd taken the opportunity prior to departure to wax myself and this proved another fillip to our sex life. Nate loved it.
So it was that one month in and one day out from our destination of the island of Martinique, I found Nate sitting, propped up on the lounger, totally nude and engrossed in his book. Eyeing his exposed cock and aware we'd be in port the following day; I felt a liaison was required. I slipped off my bikini and moved behind him.
"Oh ho," he announced as I ran hands down his smooth chest. "You startled me you naughty...woah where are you headed?"
"Hush now. Too much talk. Just let Jess find her way round this hot bod," I crooned, running fingers down his stomach, while I pressed my breasts into the back of his head.
My husband wasn't large, but I liked his cock, and right at that moment it looked especially good. I lightly took it in my fingers and began to manipulate it, while he swiveled his head to kiss me. I was delighted to feel him harden under my touch.
"Seems like your book is not so interesting after all," I said, changing my grip to grasp him fully in my palm.
"Oh yeah...that feels nice. Real nice," he moaned, while I stroked him.
My efforts were soon rewarded. I felt him grow to full hardness and dropped to whisper in his ear.
"Can I sit on you sailor...maybe drop my bald pussy onto that lovely hard thing you've got there."
"Hmmm...yes please."
I moved around in front of him and lifted a leg across where he sat. With my feet on the deck, either side of the lounger, I lowered myself to sit across his thighs. I circled him with my arms. We began to kiss again, passionately this time. I moved my pussy up to rest on his shaft, before beginning to move there. I wanted him in me, but not too soon. On a Caribbean voyage, there was no rush. My pussy lips, now slick with moisture, soon parted and his rod was running up and back, along the groove.
"You keep that up and I'm going to paint the deck," Nate eventually groaned.
"Oh! Well we can't have wastage," I said in mock horror, lifting myself, gathering his cock and positioning it at my wet entrance. "We better get it inside me."
Forehead and noses touching, I easily worked myself onto my husband's pole. We both let out deep sighs of satisfaction as my pussy accepted him fully.
"Oh baby; I knew this trip was such a great idea," he moaned, when I began to lift and drop my pelvis.
We knew each other well, taking it slow, allowing the sensations to build. Each time Nate tensed; I stopped my movements. One time he told me to come off him and I did so. I let him settle and soon he indicated we could resume. The good thing was, he remained hard. All the time his hands were on my breasts; squeezing and kneading them. Nate was always a tit man and I knew he'd be relishing this, just as I relished his touching them.
Eventually, that familiar feeling rose in my pussy. I allowed it to build, moving ever closer to the ultimate delight. Soon we were in a steady rhythm, moaning and grunting to indicate the pleasure we were feeling. When the time was right, I slid a hand down between us and brought fingers to lightly tease my clit. This touch moved me on, just as I knew it would. Now there was no thought of going slow. I wanted to cum and Nate would just have to hold on. This wouldn't be easy for him, because I began fucking him with long deliberate movements.
Eyes shut tight in concentration I sped up my actions further, riding the wave. It arrived suddenly and I pressed forward into his chest; a delightful orgasm exploding out from where we were joined. My husband went rigid, letting out a groan of his own.
It was a long mutual cum. A lovely one; naked under the late afternoon sun, with my darling husband. When we both finally came down off our highs, we burst out laughing, congratulating each other for making it together. Nate stayed in me while we kissed deeply, bathing in post-coital bliss. Eventually I felt him soften.
"We're so naughty," I said, lifting off him. "Fucking in the open; in the daytime. What would people think."
"People would think we're down in the Caribbean, under the warm sun, doing what people do on holiday in the Caribbean,"
"I guess you're right," I said, thinking nothing could spoil this happy voyage.
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A day later we sailed into the bay surrounding a small town on the island of Martinique. We'd chosen our destination well. It looked like a picture postcard. After admiring the view, Nate scanned the other yachts in the Bay.
"Isn't that Ben and Sue's yacht?" he announced.
"Who?"
"You know Ben and Sue. They're Jason and Abby's friends. We met them when we went sailing with Jason and Abbie a year or so ago. Then later at that party."
"Oh yes, it could be. Do you want to go and see?"
"Yeah sure."
"I bet you do," I replied. "You and Sue got along very well at that party of Abbie's. If I recall I had to pull you away when it was time to go home."
We anchored and waved to each other, before the couple came over in their small zodiac.
"Ahoy!" Ben called. "When you sailed in, I said to Susie, that looks awfully like Jason and Abby's yacht. How are you both. Have you stolen our friend's yacht?"
We explained the offer Jason and Abbie had made and how we were on a sailing adventure.
"Well what a coincidence," Sue said. "Like it was meant to be. How are you both?"
Ben and Sue were older than us, in their late 30's. Both had teenage children from previous marriages. They told us how they regularly left them with family or their other parents, while they set off to do pretty much what we were doing. Ben was a handsome man who liked to show off his tanned body, while Sue, a platinum blond, liked to wear plenty of jewelry. Despite being born and bred in Georgia, they looked like a couple of Californian swingers, but had never propositioned us.
We settled in and drank some wine. About ten o'clock they returned to their yacht some way distant. During the conversation it had been agreed that the next evening Ben, the action man, would take Nate night fishing. Sue and I would go ashore, shop and then have a meal in town. I was excited by this prospect.
The next morning, we both woke with headaches, but upbeat about the day ahead. Nate announced he needed to head into town and purchase a more suitable torch for the night ahead, so caught the water taxi into town. I lazed about, excited at the prospect of shopping with a girlfriend, while Nate got to do some boy's stuff.
I chose to wear a white sleeveless muslin dress, which showed off my shoulders and tan, to good effect. I had a strapless bra, but discarded it, choosing to be just a little daring. I'd have liked to finish the look with high heels, but hadn't brought any, so nice sandals had to do.
"Wow, look at you. The foxy Mediterranean peasant girl look. I'm not sure I can let you go into town alone looking like that," Nate said, when he returned.
"I don't think the local boys will be interested in a woman my age," I replied, heartened that my husband had again noted my looks.
"You're only 33. I reckon they'll be looking alright. Just no touching, ok. That's only for me," he laughed, moving close to fondle a breast and kiss me.
I loved the attention my husband was giving me. However, the truth was that, after 30 days of sailing alone with my husband, I liked the idea that someone different might be paying me some attention.
