by Gabi Moore
I wove my fingers together so that I could trap and press down on the length of his cock. With greater speed than ever before, I pulled and pressed down on his cock, following each stroke with an open mouth, and an eager heart. I smiled at him and gave him all of the fury of my affection.
Next, Tyler lay on the ground, smiling at me.
"You like it when I take charge?" I asked.
He only smiled in response.
I knew that he liked seeing me like this. Most men don't want to be dominant all the time; at least the well-developed ones don't want to be dominant all the time. A good man wants to know that his partner is his equal in every respect. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.
I could've started fucking him again right there. Instead, I brought him close to my vagina and began rubbing the head of his cock on the inside of my slit. I press the head of his cock up against my clit, and then pushed him back down again. Each time he pressed into me, he almost entered me. The tension was delicious.
Eventually, it was more than I could handle myself, and that's when I decided to take him inside of me again. This time, on my hands and knees once more, my motion was up and down on the length of his cock. I had a free hand available to spread my cunt so that he could see what he was getting into. I pinched my tit, and grit my teeth well he reached his hand out to push my clit against his thumb.
"That a boy," I encouraged, my teeth clenched in pleasure.
I leaned up on them so that I can balance on his thigh. I became intensely fascinated with my labia, and how they would wrap around his shaft. I looked down at the way the two of us came together well he stroked my hair. I liked watching him disappear inside of me. There was a visual appeal to the fact that I knew I was taking part of such a powerful man, and bring them inside of my body again and again.
If I had been a whore, I would've been great at my job. Fortunately for a man like Tyler, I wasn't a whore - even though I had all of the skills of a woman who knows her way around the sexual field. Fortunately for me, I knew how to serve a man, while ultimately serving myself.
I grit my teeth and breathed in heavily while staring at the open sky above the sea. As the two of us fucked, I listened to the sound of the ocean pushing on the bottom of the boat. The two of us fell into a rhythmic pattern which matched the rhythm of the waves. All of a sudden, we didn't have to try as hard. Things felt Tantric, as the two of us felt like our sex was simply an expression of the larger ocean. It was an emotional component to this transcendent, sexual reality also. I felt expensive and totally relaxed. If anything, syncing up with the waves like that was more than just a way to save energy. It was also a way to feel connected to something larger than myself. It was a way to let go of some of the pain that I have been experiencing, while indulging in an ecstasy that overflowed my emotional reality.
I moaned, while staring into the sky.
If someone had been there, anyone at all, there's no doubt in my mind that they've been turned on. They probably would've wanted to join, or they had been fortunate enough to have a partner with them, they would've probably started to fuck in the same manner as we had. The way that we were getting together was an inspiration compared to the majority of the other heterosexual fucking that I have experienced during the course of my life. Once you go transcendental, it's hard I would imagine going back.
Naturally, there's a time and a place for everything, but in that particular moment, I felt absolutely divine.
I continued to push myself down on top of him, indulging in the feeling of being filled up on the inside. There were ripples of a building orgasm just stored up inside of my core. I slowed down, even more than before, and lost sync with the ocean. His cock popped out from the inside of me, and I seized the opportunity to take him into my mouth once more.
I'm so fucking addicted to you, I thought, holding my hair back so he could watch me go down on his cock.
His hand reached out to grab my breast once more, and I smiled at him while popping the head of his dick out from my mouth. I gave his sack bit of a massage, and then experimentally flicked the head of his cock with my tongue.
“You stay hard for a while," I said, staring at his cock more than his eyes.
To give him a little something to look at, I turned around and showed off my asshole and my pussy. I squatted down to fuck him once more, but this time, I turned the other direction. I knew that he liked my asshole, and I wanted him to be inside of me. This time, I thought we might do it with a little class, and have some more classic sex before building and the kinkier stuff. That didn't stop me from spreading my cheeks so that he could have a feast in his eyes while staring at my asshole.
When you are a woman you have to think that every part of your body is absolutely beautiful and desired. The truth is that to your man, that is absolutely the case.
I wasn't working him with my vagina for longer than a couple of minutes before he started pushing his thumb against my asshole. The tides had changed, in a figurative sense. I got off with him, squatting in front of him and feeling absolutely wild.
There's something about being touched in the ass that brings out my more feral side. It's like all of the rules have gone away, and I'm free to simply be myself.
I squatted in front of him, well massaging his cock up and down with both hands. I used my own pussy juice for lubrication. I was soaking wet, so that was easy enough. Next, I raised myself up over him and placed the head of his cock at the entrance to my asshole.
I was tight, but with a little bit of effort and some bouncing, I was able to slowly lower myself onto him. At first, only the head of his cock made it inside of me. As a matter of fact, he didn't go that much further right away. I wasn't in any rush. I spread my lips so that he could see the inside of my pussy while my asshole worked slowly down the length of his cock. Eventually, I was able to take his entire shaft.
While he was entirely inside of me, I took a gasp and appreciated the change in the scenery. Having something in my ass brings an entirely different change to the way that I see reality. Having Tyler's cock in my ass magnifies that sensation a hundred times.
I wanted to talk dirty to him, I wanted to do anything, but all I could do was lean back and thrust myself down onto him. I spread my labia wide so that he could see my pink sex while my asshole greedily devoured his cock.
"You know I can't get enough of you," I leaned in and whispered toward him.
My hips never stopped moving, and I had no desire to quit. Once I had inside of me like this, I wanted to work him until he came. I wanted him to explode inside of my asshole, and this time, I was determined to make that happen.
I pushed forward on to him, until I was able to sit on his thighs, and slowly raise and lower his cock in and out of my asshole. I moved to high and he popped out of me once more. I thought to bring him back inside of me, but I was out of breath and overwhelmed from between his two muscular thighs. I got a chance to take a look at his beautiful asshole for a moment, then he pushed his cock down into my mouth. In no way that I hesitate, eagerly, I began bobbing my head up and down below his cock. I was able to open my throat more naturally from this angle, and I freely took him inside of me and brought him back out again.
"I want to ride on top of you," he said.
I could see the hunger in his eyes, and so I turned around and lay down. He got on top of me, and I held my breast together for him well he shoved his dick between my cleavage. There was a burn on my chest, but it felt so good to have him next to me. I felt like he was fucking straight into my heart. The feeling was incredible because I wanted him to be as close to me as possible. I reached out my tongue, eager to get a taste of him, and then I think he realized that my mouth was a lot more fun than my tits.
Like I was performing cardio at the gym, I did sit-ups on his cock. I opened my mouth for him and smiled, feeling that he was about to burst. I opened my mouth wide and prayed that every single drop of sperm inside of his body would be deposited inside of me
. One squared after another rushed into my mouth, and I felt the warmth of the fruit of his body inside of me.
I felt the taste of him bringing a life and energy to my brain. Getting a shot of Tyler's come was like drinking from the fountain of youth. After showing him that I had brought all of his come into my mouth, and swallowing so he knew that I had taken him completely, I smiled and gently sucked on the head of his cock until he collapsed to the side of me in exhaustion.
The two of us were covered in the sweat and dirt of our fuck session, and that’s when I got an idea.
“Fuck it,” I said, “we’re here, and we don’t have anywhere to be. Why not go for a swim?”
Even though he was in recovery, the mention of going into the water brought a bit of life back to him. I got up and brought the boat to a coast, and then the two of us dove into the water.
As the two of us swam together in the water, we found a bit of refreshment after our rigorous lovemaking.
“You really know how to fuck a girl,” I said, spraying water at him with a flourish of my hand.
The boat drifted slowly next to us, and I laughed while he dove under water to tackle me, and bring the warmth of his lips next to my sex. Horsing around like that made the rest of life seem a bit more bearable. There was really no major problem in those few moments. It didn’t really matter that we had just been through trauma. We had found the delight in one another’s company, and that was just enough to make things feel alright.
Tyler kissed, and then proceeded to spray water in my face from his own powerful arms. The two of us chased each other throughout the water. I, having grown up the daughter of a fisherman had the ability to swim better than most. However, I soon found out that I was nothing compared to the athletic prowess of a SEAL. It didn’t seem to matter that I had already drained his cock dry not a half hour before that.
“You know, most men don’t have the kind of stamina that comes so easily to you,” I said, slowing down our chase to give him a sincere compliment.
“It’s a mixed bag,” he said.
“Looks pretty damn positive from where I’m sitting.
“You would say that. You’re well fucked, and still alive.”
That last one hurt, just a bit.
It’s easy enough to share a rough time with someone, and exchange words that are meant to be playful. Unfortunately, when two people are damaged, even in the slightest — which is the case for most people — the words that are used in jest can be hurtful.
A person may not mean to say anything difficult for another person to manage, but the reality of the situation is that when we share ourselves, and we have difficulties that have yet to be processed, there are issues that come up that both people must deal with.
At that time, unbeknownst to me, I had already given Tyler my fair share of baggage to deal with; I don’t think I could have helped it anyway. Understanding that Tyler felt the weight of the lives he had taken made sense on a logical level, but that was the first time that I had been given the insight necessary to understand how he had been affected on an emotional level.
I thought about when I had accidentally shot that man who worked for Maurice.
Could I do it? I wondered, lost in an ethical reverie.
I thought about how they killed my dad, and a surge of rage welled up within me, I actually grew dizzy, and started to cry. Tyler noticed something was wrong, and came over to me to make sure that I didn’t drown. He grabbed me by the armpits and hauled me to the rope we had dangled out of the boat so I could relax on his broad shoulders while the pain of the moment overtook me.
“I miss him so much,” I cried, losing myself in the emotions.
The rage had been too much to handle, and setting the anger next to the feeling of disgust and sadness caused by nearly being responsible for the death of that man had pushed me into a place of despair. There was empathy, sure, but the empathy gave way to hopelessness.
“What do you do,” I asked, “when you know something is wrong, and you have to live with the fact that another person did that wrong thing to you?”
The words were blubbery, and sounded garbled coming out of my mouth, but I knew he understood. In spite of his comprehension, he didn’t respond.
How could he respond, I thought to myself, shaking my head. He’s a soldier, he’s made that choice long ago.
“I guess some people can do it, and some people can’t,” I muttered, letting go of him, and drifting back into the water.
He looked behind me, to make sure I wasn’t trying to off myself, and then climbed up the rope toward the deck of the ship. I admired his strong muscles as they helped navigate his body up the edge of the ship. He was naked, and his whole body seemed to glisten in the sunlight and salt-water; every perfectly sculpted muscle.
“Stop being such a baby,” I scolded myself, deciding to take a dive down deep into the water.
What happened next was astonishing, and uncomfortable.
Just as I went down, a whole school of fish swam by, dizzying my mind in a swirl of colors and emotions. The light from the high noon sun reflected off of their iridescent scales, and for a moment I was free. Feeling the beauty of the moment seemed to relieve the burden of pain from my mind.
These fish have suffered losses, the experience seemed to say, and yet they don’t seem to suffer too much. In spite of everything, they continue forward in life.
The feeling of transcendental elation lasted only a few moments, and then a sinking feeling of dread began to saturate in my body. I felt, somewhat immediately, that I needed to get out of the water, and that we needed to move. There was something behind us, and I felt danger. A vision passed through my head like blood in the water, and anxiety began to overwhelm me. With a firm resolution to get the fuck out of there, I began swimming toward the boat.
Tyler noticed the increase in the pace of my movements and looked over the edge of the small vessel in order to check up on me.
“Piper,” he called, “Are you alright?”
I didn’t respond. Instead of taking the time necessary to evaluate my situation, I continued to operate in a fight or flight mode. Steady, capable arms — arms that had been raised by a fisherman grabbed the rope which lead up the side of the ship’s hull. I planted my feet on the side of the ship and then began to walk myself up the edge of the boat. I hauled myself over the side of the ship and looked behind me.
“Move!” I commanded. “We have to move!”
Chapter 20 - Piper
Black shapes were on the horizon, in the direction which I intuitively believed to be Venice. I felt in my heart that they were coming after us and that if we had any chance of escaping, this time, we needed to vacate our current position and fast. Ideally, by means of another ship, but we didn’t exactly have that luxury.
“We need to get to Rome,” I concluded. “What’s the nearest port city?”
I looked at him, hoping he had been able to piece together more substantial information than I would have been able to guess.
“If we cut due west, we will be able to hit Ancona. Shouldn’t be any more than forty minutes, maybe less if we haul.”
I nodded, doing some quick calculations in my head.
“We’ll chart a course to San Benedetto del Tronto, but we’re going to head in along the coast.”
“All roads lead to Rome, I suppose,” he replied, evidencing his confusion as to why we wouldn’t simply head straight for Ancona. “Is something wrong?”
“You and I are going to jump when we get about a mile and a half outside of Civitanova Marche, unless you think it would be better to jump sooner. I think we’re being followed.”
My intuition ended up being uncomfortably accurate.
Over the next hour, I watched as the object in the distance began to steadily gain on us in speed. It went from a dark object at a great distance, to a series of fast approaching ships, which could have been scouted with binoculars had they been any closer.
There was a
part of me that felt I was absolutely crazy, and that I was just being paranoid. I didn’t like the feeling that I was getting inside of me, and I didn’t like the too fresh memory of what they did to my dad. Without knowing how they tracked me to Bastion, I couldn’t afford to take that risk.
“We’re ditching the boat,” I said, “Get ready to dive.”
We had to ditch out early and ended up floating in on the tide into a quaint little beach town named Fontespina. The boat continued past the Civitanova Marche Pier, and headed forward, unmanned toward a town called Pedaso. There was an unpopulated strip of land there along Strada Statale Adriatica — the major thoroughfare which marked that section of the coast. I could only hope that the ship would crash into the shoals and that anybody with good sense would see the ship and stay the hell out of its way.
As Tyler and I bodysurfed the tides in toward Fontespina, I felt a slight bit of relief that my impulsiveness would at least accomplish one thing if nothing else — a small piece of history which tied myself to the tragedy of a time now past would sink into the Adriatic, where it belonged.
Tyler stole a tourist’s car that was parked alongside the boardwalk, and the two of us drove down the highway, through the mountains, toward Rome — a regular couple of troublemakers if ever there was one. I took deep breaths throughout that highway journey, attempting to find my center, but failing. It seemed like the anxiety in my chest was so tight that I might not be able to find a way out from underneath my worries.
Decisive actions like we were taking could only lead to long term problems if there were not some sort of escape plan. I held onto the hope that when we reached my contact in Rome, he would have enough sympathy for my situation to help me out. If he didn’t… well, I didn’t know what we might have to do.