Sea Sicness

The answer came soon enough. A pair of loud gunshots echoed through the room and Sandra went deaf.

When she reopened them, she was surprised to find that she was still alive and that their captors were not. Simone was also just realizing that Ryan's mother had not been executed and that the men who had murdered her partner were.

A timid and shivering young woman stepped through the opening in the bulkhead and dropped a large semi-automatic pistol to the floor. The sound of a heavy metal object striking the metal of the floor was empty compared to the ringing still pulsing inside the heads of the living members of the yacht's passengers.

Alexis ran to her naked mother's side and embraced her. Ryan remained where he was, stunned and motionless, feeling more helpless then ever before in his short life. Moments ago he had thought that everything was going to end terribly. Now there was hope again, and his family was still complete.

It would take about half an hour of recovery before Simone managed to pull herself from Allyson's lifeless form. She shed nary a tear, but her heart was broken. Despite the intense sexuality of their relationship, there was an undeniable love for one another that often had taken second chair. Now those feelings could never be voiced. Allyson was dead.

The young American family dressed as they waited for the local police to arrive. When they did they quickly identified the two men as pirates and well known criminals. They were unable to help much with Allyson, only to recommend a local cabinet maker who occasionally built caskets. Late at night the remaining members of Allyson's party rowed to shore and carried the stiffening form of their captain to the local doctor who would do the necessary embalming and preservation for the long trip home. Ryan pried Simone, his first lover of the journey, from her partner's side and escorted her back to the hotel room they had rented for the evening.

No one slept, though everyone pretended too. The experience had been traumatizing and would be difficult to forget.

By mid-afternoon, the body had been safely prepared and hurried down to the yacht by a team of native workers. It and its coffin, a pinewood box, were stowed away beneath deck with the rest of the infrequently used cargo. An hour or so later, the passengers re-boarded and the long journey home began.

Ryan felt personally responsible for the tragedy. This vacation had been arranged so that his fantasies could be fulfilled. They had been halfway finished when it all came crashing down. Allyson would not have been out here if it were not for him. Now she was dead. Ryan stared off into the wake of the yacht as its engines pushed it out to see and towards home and the status quo.

Perhaps that is what bothered him most. Alexis had not even been by to see him since that night. She had avoided him and spent all her time with their mother and with Simone. It seemed as if the women had turned to each other for emotional support and had forgotten him. With another sigh, Ryan collapsed backwards into his deck chair and counted the minutes as they ticked by.

Ryan had not been forgotten by his sister. In fact, she was having a hard time keeping from thinking about him. She wanted to be with him right then, alone, screwing passionately without a care in the world. But things had changed and there were other issues which needed to be taken care of. The first of those was her mother. She had not eaten or slept in two days and was constantly crying. Half the time her body didn't even have the strength to sob or tear up. Instead she just rocked on the bed, her bloodshot eyes focused on the floor.

Alexis was determined to be there for her mother. Life had been tough and now the violence of the end of the vacation no doubt brought some sense of personal responsibility to Sandra's mind. Alexis would go to her side and stare there, constantly trying to reassure her mother that everything was okay, that they were safe now.

There was no way that Alexis could have known that her mother was not mourning from the abruptness and violence of Allyson's death. She was not traumatized by the action as much as she was by whom it was perpetrated against. Sandra had felt a new freedom since she had been with Allyson and had been on the verge of truly freeing herself from self-imposed restraints when she had discovered the murderers and her lover's body.

For hours she just stared at the floor, vaguely hearing her daughter's coos of sympathy and encouragement. She had to tell someone about she and Allyson's connection. But she was too afraid of Simone's own personal attachment to the woman to confide in her. With some suddenness, Sandra realized that her only confidante had to be her daughter.

She spoke in a broken pattern, her voice cut off by sobs and tears.

"Alexis- I miss Allyson. I really miss her. She was special."

"I know Mom. I really do, she was a wonderful lady and this trip was so perfect," Alexis answered.

"No, Alexis. Not like that. I miss her because. Well, because she helped set me free."

Once again Alexis answered, "I'm sorry Mom. She did that for a lot of us. She was so strong."

Sandra cut her daughter off. "She was strong and she was wonderful. But more than that I loved her. She and I, we made love the day you and your brother were in the city. We did it on a mountaintop and in the dirt and in a waterfall. I haven't been so happy since, well, forever."

Alexis' jaw dropped at her mother's statement and it was her turn to sink back to the bed. Allyson and her mother? Was her mother a lesbian? Was she bisexual? How could that have happened? Why would her mother do something like that? The questions raced through her mind at a steady pace, seemingly with no answers. But then she looked back up to her mother and saw her crying again and she knew that none of those questions mattered. Alexis pulled her mother's tear streaked face down to her bare shoulder.

"I'm sorry Mom. I had no idea. I'm so sorry," the nineteen year old sputtered. How she wished she could reassure her, make her feel free again.

Out of the deepest of loves for her mother, Alexis began to kiss across her mother's forehead. Her lips gently brushed across skin and tears. Over and over she kissed her, never pausing for a moment. It was not until she felt her lips meet her mother's and an electric shock raced through her that she stopped. Stunned, she leaned away from her mother and stared.

Sandra had not felt the urge come over her, but as kiss after kiss landed on her face, her mind turned to other desires. She wanted her daughter to understand what she and Allyson had shared. She needed her to understand it, or the chasm would never close. In some wild sensibility, it was logical to Sandra to kiss her oldest child as a lover. When Alexis recoiled in shock, Sandra was stung. In her unstable emotional state she made her next decision. She leaned back to her daughter, one hand drifting to the back of Alexis' neck and pulling her lips back to her own.

Alexis surrendered hesitantly to her mother's encouragement. She was willing to do anything and go anywhere to ensure that her mother was okay. The idea of incest had long ceased to be relevant in her mind and actions; her bouts with her brother had seen to that. Instead she found herself nervous and unsteady about the idea of kissing a woman.

At first the kisses were soft teasing caresses. The lips of the two women barely breezed over the others before they parted then darted closer once more. Their breath would linger on each other's faces as they taunted one another. Sandra would have enough first and would press her lips firmly to her daughter and slip her tongue inside her mouth. At first their tongues evaded one another, than they battled as the younger and older woman fought for supremacy.

Alexis' hands wandered to her mother's neckline and the edges of her bathrobe. They tugged with an inexperienced urgency at the soft terry cloth and pulled it from her shoulders. Once her mother's breasts were freed, Alexis' hands would hesitantly reach for them.

Sandra was too aroused and too emotionally charged to wait for inexperience. Her own hands would meet Alexis' and guide them to the tips of her breasts. She savored her daughter's dainty hands as they slowly stroked over her globes. Alexis's nails would drag across the underside of her breasts, causing her to gasp between kisses. Then Sandra needed more and she pulled her daughter down to the bed.

Sandra slid to the foot of the bed, crouched like a predator on the hunt. Alexis lay, her long hair splayed across the pillow and her stomach rising and falling steadily. She wanted her mother's touch to return; she wanted to feel the warmth of her body smothering hers. She wanted her breasts, and her ass, and her pussy, and her thighs, and her mouth. She wanted to belong to her mother, and her mother to belong to her.

Alexis would not have long to wait. Sandra crawled between the triangle formed by her daughter's legs and slid her hands the whole way. They traced from the tops of her knees, over the smooth blemish free skin of her daughter's youthful thighs, until they made contact with the edges of her bikini bottoms. Then gently she removed them, her mouth watering at the sight of smooth shaved skin and then glorious pink folds.

Once the bottoms were safely tossed to the floor, Sandra's hands returned once more to her daughter's thighs. They lazily stroked and jumped across the tan skin, inching their way towards the lighter color skin that had been covered moments before. Soon her hands would frame the joining of Alexis' hips to her pelvic bone and her thumbs would tease the sensitive areas closest to her center. Alexis' hands were beneath her own top now, tugging at her hidden nipples and squeezing the young full breasts it contained.

Alexis remembered the need that had filled her when she was with Ryan in the town square. Her center burned with the same torturous heat and her mouth went dry as it longed for more. Her hands continued their urgent journey over her own chest, filling a void that her mother's foreplay created. Her eyes would remain locked on the older woman who had given her the body she now possessed. Her deep brown eyes would never leave their focus on the full red lips inching their way towards her body.

Again, Sandra would dance her mouth and breath over eager flesh. Her tongue traced the inner edges of her daughter's thighs, retreating only when it neared Alexis' pink folds. Sandra could scent her daughter's excitement- the strong flavorful odor of desire. Her hands continued their haphazard race over Alexis' leg as Sandra fought to keep from surrendering to her need. Only when one of her own hands abandoned Alexis' thighs was it that she gave in. As her own fingers slipped between her lips, Sandra lowered her hair slowly to Alexis' pussy.

Alexis arched in the air, her grip clenching down on her tits as she felt the long thin strands of hair pile near her pussy and then the final delight of a mouth embracing her folds. Alexis writhed instantaneously as her mother's tongue pressed its way into her. She could feel it squirm into her folds, pressing the pink layers of skin aside as it sought her center.

"Oh God, Mom, yes! Please! More!"

Alexis was surprised to hear the urgency in her own cry, but forgot it as the tongue within her retreated then charged forward again. Sandra's spare hand staid its grip on Alexis' thigh as her other riveted itself into her twat. She was surprised by how wet her twat was upon her fingers entrance but savored the relief they brought. Naked beneath the cycling fan she pleasured herself as her tongue carried the delicious taste of her daughter's pussy to her mouth. By now, her daughter's legs were wrapped over her shoulders, their smooth surface weighing into her bare back.

Sandra looked up her daughter's body, over the hands still tucked within her top, and studied the face which cried out repeatedly in pleasure. Her daughter was beautiful, her features a striking blend of her own and her ex's best. Something within her mind was triggered by the preponderance of her role in Alexis' creation. This woman had been carried within her, and now she was smothering herself in her pussy. The irony and taboo was slightly striking then, but Sandra was not surprised by her body's trembling, explosive reaction. She had known that she was aroused by the thought the moment she had lowered her mouth to her daughter's pussy.

Sandra's thighs closed on the hand that divided them, trapping twitching fingers within her depths. Alexis was too caught up in her own world to realize her mother had orgasmed. The tongue darting in and out of her pussy was pushing her to the heights of sexual bliss. Then she was there. The sweet open expanse of sexual orgasm. Her mind went blank and her body acted on its own as juices flooded her thighs. Had her mother's open mouth not caught the fluid, she would have squirted all over the bed. But conveniently Sandra was there, and she was more then happy to slurp down the fluid.

Another cry of "Mommy yes" escaped Alexis' open mouth as she shuddered on the bed. Sandra would remain between her thighs, lapping the liquid which had escaped her mouth's enclosure. She savored the quieting of their sexual union- the time where orgasms fade and emotional attachment builds. She had never felt like she could touch her daughter's soul, until now. Now she knew that she mattered, that even as a mother, she was relevant and important.

Alexis was feeling the same thing, only experiencing the emotions from the standpoint of a young adult about to strike out on their own in the world. That, along with a mighty powerful orgasm, was the reward of what had just occurred. Alexis reached down, her hands cupping her mother's face and pulling her away from her leech like fixation with her pussy. She drew her up her body, their lips once again meeting. This time they shared the taste of the daughter's fluids and the symbolism of what they had just done.

Fifteen minutes later, Ryan would enter the bedroom, his tan skin feeling slightly stiff from the large amount of sun he had received. His mind and cock were triggered by the familiar scent of his lover's sex and he immediately focused on her. She lay in the bed with her bathing suit on, curled in a small ball beside their sleeping mother. Not daring to disturb them with his own need, he retreated once more to the deck in search of Simone.

But Simone was nowhere to be found on deck, or in the control room. Ryan assumed that she avoided it at all costs, much like the other passengers. The memories of the night's brutality were far too fresh to ignore and he found his erection fade with his own depression. Once again he retreated to the deck and angrily threw himself down into a deck chair. For the rest of the afternoon he would remain there, skulking at how life had wronged him and what a great injustice had occurred. Hours later Simone's thin shadow would drift over him and one of her cool hands would caress his shoulder.

"Ryan- we have some dinner ready. We're going to eat in the cabin, if that's okay. Whenever you want, come and get some." Simone turned to walk away, but paused one more time, "I'm sorry. It shouldn't have gone this way."

Ryan tried staying aloof and angry but only lasted a few more minutes before his growling stomach spurred him to action. He would be too angry to ogle the three beauties who sat cross-legged on the bed before him. Ryan ate quietly and quickly, scarfing down chips and a sandwich before he fled back to his retreat on deck.

Simone, even more than Ryan, felt alone. She had not been abandoned as he had. She did not have a lover with her any longer to comfort and be comforted by. She knew of Sandra and Alexis' sex inside the cabin. She had seen it on the video feeds, but she had watched thinking only of Allyson and her. Tiring quickly of the memories she had retreated to the cabin that she and her mistress had shared. Simone, in some misguided desire for the familiar, slipped her clothing from her body and lay spread eagled on the bed.

She bound her feet first and then her left wrist before she applied the final handcuff. Then Simone stared at the ceiling, softly crying, wishing someone was there to tell her what to do. It wasn't that she was helpless on her own- she had just felt safer and more complete when her mistress was there, guiding her every action.

The ship floated softly on the waves as night fell and the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Despite the small size of quarters and private space, the passengers were all inexorably separated, except for the mother and daughter. Ryan would wait until the air began to chill before he slipped below decks and entered the cabin.

On the bed his mother lay, one arm draped over his sister's waist, both apparently deep in sleep. Ryan didn't want to sleep anywhere but in the bed, so he too joined the duo on the bed. He nestled in close to his sister's body, until their joints bent in the same way and their shapes mirrored each others.

He was about to drift to sleep when he felt a subtle brush against his hip bone. At first he thought his sister had stirred in her sleep, but when the hand fished for the edge of his shorts, he felt his heart begin to race. Thoughts of abandonment evaporated as the coy little digits crept their way through the darkness to his rapidly hardening cock. Then they took hold of the shaft and began to slowly stroke. Ryan fought off an onrushing groan as his prick danced to life. He feared waking his mother and revealing his sister and he's relationship.

Alexis tried to contain her smirk. She had sensed Ryan's frustrations about losing the rest of the vacation, about Allyson's death, and about not spending time with her. She had pretended to sleep until she was certain that her mother was truly out. Once she felt secure with it she had reached for her brother's length and begun to offer him her consolation prize.

The stroke was slow and steady, constant pressure surrounding a three inch area of his cock's surface. Alexis's hand would grip firmly at the base then gradually loosen as it slid upward, barely coming in contact with the ridge of his head. Ryan would rock his hips slightly in tune with her hands stroking, his eyes glazed over and staring into the blackness which covered them.

His sister's forearm was beginning to work into a tizzy of rapid strokes as her own desire and amusement grew in response to Ryan's enthusiastic response. Ryan could feel himself beginning to ride the steady upward wave towards climax when suddenly Alexis stopped. Ryan froze too, fearful that perhaps their mother had woken and spooked her. After a thirty second pause, the stroking picked up where it had left off.

Alexis had been delivered an unexpected surprise. At first she had thought her mother had woken or stirred in her sleep when her hand had slipped to the small of her back. That notion had changed when she felt the hand slip into her bikini bottoms and began to slid over her ass towards the cleft above her thighs. Its incessant downward journey would not end until two fingers reached her juicy center.

Alexis had to squirm to allow her mother's fingers entrance as her thighs rested, one over the other. Another couple of seconds and the two fingers were easily sliding over her lubricated folds. Once Alexis was certain that her mother was pleasuring her, unaware of her attention to Ryan's needs she resumed her stroking of his long hard shaft.

It took all she could to keep from giggling out loud. Her mother, behind her was fingering her twat, and her brother was busy thrusting into her hand. And as far as she could tell, they were completely unaware of the chain of mutual masturbation they had formed. Alexis decided to up the ante a bit and slid her remaining arm out from underneath her and back behind her body. It was uncomfortable, laying like that on her side, but the uniqueness of the opportunity made it worthwhile.