by Dreama Faire
She was helpless. He had her arms pinned beneath his, and his knees held her thighs apart as he ground his rigid penis against her.
"Lars, please don't," she whispered.
His sour breath curled around her face as he tried to cover her mouth with his. "Is good, eh? I make you feel good."
She stopped struggling. She could do nothing to stop him, but she certainly didn't feel good. Not like with Nick. She let her thoughts drift to Nick's heavenly torture, shutting out Olsen's disgusting grunts and lewd poking movements.
Olsen's voice rasped in her ear. "Yes, baby. Relax and enjoy it."
He lowered her back onto the ground, and slipped his hand between them to unzip his trousers. Without one second of hesitation, Amanda slammed her knee up into his swollen crotch and pushed him away. Roaring like a bull, Olsen doubled over and reeled away from her, staggering into the center of the alley, then falling heavily against the wall of the opposite building. He clutched his groin while vomit spewed everywhere. Amanda gagged from the smell, the sight, and her fright. She scooped up her parcels and ran as fast as she could toward the bright light of the main street.
Halfway down the sidewalk, the tears started. How on earth could she have been so naive? Made such a terrible choice for her experiment? The ship and its inhabitants were a floating recipe for catastrophe, and she was in the middle, with no way to escape until they landed in Venezuela. Even thoughts of Nick now frightened her more than excited her. These men who traversed the high seas were strangers, a breed unto themselves. Men who apparently had no homes, no families, no allegiances to anything or anyone but themselves.
Her tears slowed, her rattling pulse quieted, and she stopped to catch her breath in the shaded doorway of a small shop. Just inside, a rack of postcards caught her eye.
She suddenly remembered the napkin containing Calvin's address, now tucked into one of the pockets of her suitcase. With a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure the captain wasn't following her, she stepped into the shop and rifled through the scenes on the cards. Beautiful photographs of white beaches and turquoise water made the past hour seem like a bad dream. A few minutes later, she strode purposefully toward the docks. Calvin Ruggles might not be exciting, but at least he was safe.
13
Nick crumpled the empty pack of Camels and viciously threw it into a trash barrel. He scanned the dock for at least the twentieth time since Amanda had sauntered off with Captain Asshole. Where the fuck are they? How long does it take to eat lunch? He strode across the deck, deeply annoyed by his anger. What did he care where she'd gone? Just a plaything, nothing more. He glanced up at the sun, now trekking steadily toward the late afternoon sky. Four hours, for Chrissake. They could have eaten an eight-course meal by now. He glowered at the dockside again. The old prick probably took her to some sleazy, cockroach infested hotel room, and was heaving and puffing over her luscious body at that very moment. God-dammit! I did all the work, and he gets the spoils.
He turned and shouted to a sailor sluicing water across the deck.
"Switch, I'm goin' ashore for awhile."
Muttering to himself, he strode down the gangplank and started along the pier.
"If I find them..."
The thought jerked him back to reality. I'll what? Repeat history? He stopped in mid-stride and stared at the murky harbor water, muddy green from the constant churning of ship movement. A rotting head of cabbage bobbed amid other floating debris, and a scraggly seagull balanced on a piece of wood, trying unsuccessfully to take bites of the elusive vegetable. Nick's shoulders slumped and he shifted his gaze up, past the bay water to the shimmering blue green expanse of ocean, sparkling against brilliant white sand. His focus blurred with disillusionment, and he turned back. The huge black hulk of ATLAS beckoned, a silent prison waiting to take him back to safety.
"Nick! Wait!"
He wheeled around. Amanda was hurrying toward him over the warped planks, her arms filled with string-wrapped packages, a radiant smile lighting up her features. Olsen was nowhere in sight and, suddenly, Nick was happier than he'd been in a very long time.
* * *
Amanda saw the look on Nick's face as she approached, and her spirits soared. He was happy to see her—and was she ever glad to see him!
Nick's smile seemed almost teasing. "I see you boosted the economy of Santo Domingo."
She flushed, thinking about the array of enticing garments, items she would use to beat him at his own game.
She smiled shyly. "I haven't been shopping in a very long time."
His dark gaze scanned the pier, then refocused on her. "Where's Captain?"
"Ummm, he wasn't feeling good. I think he drank too much at lunch."
Nick took the parcels and headed toward the gangplank, and she hurried along behind, hoping he'd ask to meet her that night. All her earlier fears and thoughts of escape had disappeared the instant she'd caught sight of him on the pier. At the cabin door, he remained outside while she carried her things into the room. When she returned, he was leaning on the rail.
He kept his eyes on the harbor as he spoke. "Are you very tired from your shopping spree?"
Her stomach lurched. Are you kidding? Not if you have any plans for me.
"Not really. Why?"
"We go somewhere for drink."
She liked the way he simply stated what he wanted, didn't hedge, or ask permission. Not threatening, just confident.
She stepped up next to him and smiled. "I'd love to."
* * *
Walking beside such a macho handsome man sent chills racing across Amanda's shoulders. Visions of more intimate moments threaded their way into her head, and her breath caught. She could barely wait for nightfall.
Nick took hold of her arm and steered her across the main road, dodging the dozens of bicyclists that jammed the sidewalks and street. At the corner, he flagged down a rickety old car with a taxi light. Confined in the back seat of the odiferous vehicle, she savored Nick's closeness, the brush of his skin against her arm as he scrunched down in the seat. She watched the street scenes in comfortable silence as the taxi rattled across town. Through the windshield, she could see high-rise buildings looming closer.
Nick said something in Spanish, and the cab pulled over. A minute later, they walked briskly across a square toward an ultra-modern building. The Hotel Plaza. Amanda's pulse jumped. Would he take her to a room? Remembering her concern about the condoms, she hoped not. When Nick fucked her, she wanted nothing to spoil it. She'd simply have to ask him if he was prepared. I can't believe I'm having these thoughts. How will I bring it up? I have no experience with this stuff. Immediately, she realized it didn't matter. She could say or do anything she wanted with this man. He wasn't part of her world, and no one would ever know.
A sharp pain ran through her chest. When the voyage ended, she'd never see him again. Her eyes suddenly burned and she blinked away the surprising tears.
"You are okay?"
She smiled brightly, but felt her lower lip tremble. "Yes, but I guess I'm more tired than I thought."
He touched her shoulder. "Drink will make you feel better."
The dark, smoky cocktail lounge pulsed with Latin music, low and exotic. Nick led her to a tiny glass table in the corner, away from the noisy tourists crowding the bar. A moment later, she stared at a tall, frosty glass filled with bright blue liquid and sparkling crushed ice. A tiny pink paper umbrella speared a slice of pineapple and a plump red cherry.
"What is this?"
He grinned. "Just drink. You'll like."
The exotic flavors exploded over her taste buds as the icy concoction slid down her throat, and she closed her eyes.
"Delicious. I could drink this all day."
A chuckle. "Not a good idea." He tasted his drink, then leaned back in his chair. "I know you are teacher. What else?"
The intimate interest in his eyes sent butterflies flocking through her stomach. Make up something. Be someone really important...
someone who'd impress him.
"That's about it. I teach English Literature in a small liberal arts college in New Hampshire. Been there for thirteen years."
Dammit! Why can't I be more creative?
"You live alone?"
She gazed at him for a moment, numbed suddenly by painful images of the very large, very empty house waiting back home for her. A house that echoed with her loneliness, not even disturbed by the presence of a pet. She nodded, but said nothing.
"Why you are not married? Woman not good by herself."
Somehow, the conversation dampened Amanda's earlier ardor. She felt beaten and disappointed. She couldn't even pretend to be someone interesting.
She sighed. "My mother was quite ill and lived with me for a long time before she died...There just wasn't time for anything else." She looked away from his intense gaze. "And now I'm too old to start over."
His warm hand startled her, and she looked down at his fingers, twining through hers.
His voice murmured low with sincerity. "Never too old. With age comes perception of what is important."
She met his gaze. Again, she sensed that her dark sailor had a grasp on the important things in life that most people only dreamed about. She willed his strength to flow between them and give her the courage to step into the unknown.
She withdrew her hand from his, and drank deeply, savoring the exotic flavors and the warmth spreading through her insides. Nick plucked the cherry from his drink and held it up by the stem. His eyelashes veiled an openly suggestive look, then he slowly placed the plump cherry against his lips and sucked it into his mouth. Amanda's crotch went wild, and she squeezed her thighs, thinking about those full lips against her hot flesh. She swallowed hard and finished her drink.
Nick rose from his chair and dropped some coins on the table. "Come, we hurry or you miss dinner."
14
Amanda dropped into her chair at the dining table as Solly began serving. He grinned and forked a thick slab of white fish onto her plate.
"Fresh grouper. Caught today."
"Where is everyone?"
He moved past the captain's empty chair to the other side of the table. "Ship leaves in one hour. Captain and crew eat later."
She stared with unseeing eyes at her dinner, relieved she didn't have to meet up with Olsen again so soon. How would she manage the rest of the trip? Would he try again? Probably not, but sitting next to him at every meal would be an embarrassing ordeal. Of that, she was sure.
She stole a glance at the far end of the room. Danielle was in her usual place. Her pale face looked drawn, and she smiled weakly at Rachel's chatter. Poor kid. She looks awful. Amanda's sympathy passed, and her pussy stirred again with the memory of the girl's captive seduction, a vision both frightening and erotic. Her pulse jumped and her clit twitched, as she imagined her own body beneath the pounding thrust of Nick's cock. She caught herself just before a tiny moan escaped. Pushing the stimulating thoughts from her mind, she hurried to finish her dinner. Would he be there? Would this be the night that she'd finally learn the scope of her own passion?
An hour later, the ship vibrated heavily as the huge screws began to turn, picking up speed and urging the great hulk through the water. Amanda lay on the bunk, re-living her ride on the screw housing, remembering the way the metal had hummed against her throbbing lips while Nick watched. Her fingers moved to her waistband and released the button. Against her closed eyelids, she envisioned Nick watching her, urging her on with vivid descriptions of what he would do to her. She touched her clit and it sprang to attention. She opened her eyes and scanned the dark sky outside the cabin window. She wanted more than her own self-induced pleasure. She needed to feel Nick's skin against hers, his cock buried inside her, his mouth on her nipples. She withdrew her hand and fastened her pants, her pussy clenching with disappointment.
* * *
The wind felt warm against her passion-flushed skin as she made her way along the gangway toward the bow. The huge ship hummed with the excitement of being underway again. She found her favorite spot at the rail, and leaned heavily on her arms to gaze into the strip of fading daylight along the horizon. A feeling of peace stole over her, and she thought about Nick's insight into life. Certainly not what she would have expected from a seaman. Under his rough, almost hostile exterior, lay a stratum of gentility. She'd seen a glimpse of it that afternoon. I wonder what other secrets he hides.
Immediately, she knew that he was close by. She kept her eyes focused forward and waited, anticipating a touch or murmur.
Finally, his husky voice brushed her like velvet. "We missed the sunset."
She said nothing, but nodded, waiting breathlessly to begin the night's adventure.
He touched her arm. "Follow me."
He walked toward the dark bow, moving into the shadows, and her heart lurched as he headed for the spot where she'd seen Danielle and the sailor. Nick grabbed her hand and pulled her roughly into his arms. Her breath came in short gasps and, for a brief moment, she was deliciously terrified. His hard cock pressed into her belly, sending searing arrows of need straight into her clit. It twitched and ached with each slow, firm movement of his shaft rubbing against her. The layers of clothing between them heightened the eroticism of the dance.
In the dim light, she could see the murky pools of his eyes, feel his gaze sipping at her soul. He pushed her back against the hull, keeping his cock against her—rubbing, pushing, teasing. His hands moved to the front of her shirt and slowly began to unbutton it. She pumped her hips to meet his rocking tease.
He growled and grabbed her shoulders. "No! Just stand there." He lowered his voice to a rough whisper. "You will do as I say."
She rolled her head back and welcomed the sensation of capture. Her shirt fell away, and Nick's fingers grasped her nipples and twisted, sending exquisite shocks of pain through her breasts. Her panties were soaked, and the insides of her thighs were slick with her need. Her gaze drifted across the deck, stopping at a large round upright that supported a catwalk overhead. The dream flashed into her thoughts. Tied to the mast! She licked her lips at the erotic image.
Instantly, Nick yanked her shirt away, then grabbed her trousers and panties and pulled them to her ankles. Startled, she tried to cover herself, again suddenly shy about what she'd wanted so desperately all day.
His voice snapped through the night air. "Lift your foot."
She moved her hands from her crotch and leaned against the hull for balance as she pulled her foot out of the leg of her panties, baring her open crotch to Nick's gaze. Another flood of modesty ripped through her gut. Without a word, Nick rose and pulled her roughly across the deck to the thick upright. Her erotic dream leapt back into her thoughts, and she trembled with anticipation of actually being tied to the mast. Helpless. Naked. A deep thrill shuddered through her chest.
He pushed her firmly against the upright, and quickly tied her wrists together behind the post, pulling the cord securely, giving her no room to move. The tropical night air rushed over her bare shoulders and chest, sending ripples of excitement over her skin. Her nipples hardened and the tender skin around them crawled, anxious for Nick's touch. She leaned her head back against the post and gazed at the night sky. A quarter moon cast only a small amount of cool light over the deck, softening the shadows—just enough light to see exactly what was happening to her. A horrifying thought jumped into her mind. Enough light for anyone to watch. Like she had watched Danielle the night before. A wave of excitement crashed through her belly. Men in the shadows, seeing her nakedness, watching Nick capture his prey. Would they try to take her, too?
"Spread your legs."
Startled by his close voice, she forgot her concern about being seen, and moved her feet apart a few inches.
"Wider. As far as you can. I want to see your cunt."
Her hips bucked at the lewd promise. She moved her feet farther apart, her oozing pussy pulsating with anticipation. She wanted to feel his cock pounding
her as hard as Danielle had gotten it. Nick squatted in front of her and tied a cord around one ankle, then pulled her foot even farther to the side, securing the cord to a cleat on the deck. He repeated the motion with her other leg, leaving her spread-eagle and open, vulnerable, and panting with need.
"Nick, please fuck me."
He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed and the twitch of a smile shifted the corners of his moustache. She stared at his mouth, desperate to feel those sensual lips against every inch of her skin. She ran her tongue seductively along her lower lip while she held his gaze. Immediately, he reached out and grasped her nipples between his work-roughened fingers, then pulled them slowly away from her body, rolling the tender nubs between his fingers, the sensation nearly driving her to distraction. A deep ache grew in her cunt, flooding through her swollen lips, pulsing with each tweak of her excited flesh. He slipped one hand down to her crotch and slid a finger through the slick crease to find her clit. He flicked the bud back and forth, sending her to the edge, then stopping, then repeating the torment. She moaned and writhed against his finger, wanting more, unable to make anything happen that he didn't want. His finger slid farther inside her and waggled back and forth, searching for her deepest trigger. He dragged his soaked finger out and over her hardened clit, then immediately plunged two fingers back into her, deep and hard. Her body jerked with each movement as she struggled to remain standing.
Quickly, he stepped back and dropped his trousers. Amanda's breath froze in her chest. The moonlight shone on his rigid shaft, thick and veined, standing straight out from his loins. The widely flared tip pulsed, glistening with his own excitement.
A shudder ran through her cunt and she exhaled sharply. "Oh, God, yes. Fuck me now."
"When I'm ready, not before." His low voice held a hint of warning.