by Dreama Faire
He dropped to one knee and slipped his tongue through her crease. He began to lick her pussy with long, teasing strokes, flicking her exquisitely tender clit and sending flames roaring through her. She looked down and watched him grab his cock and begin to slowly masturbate as he teased her, licking her clit, pressing his tongue into her cunt, then back to her clit to suck so hard she thought she'd faint. Her knees began to shake as his licks and sucks hastened, moving in time with his hand. A whimper started in her chest and rose to a wail as her body clenched around the rod of orgasm that rammed through her.
Nick kept sucking and biting her clit, his hand moving faster and faster over his cockshaft. She thrust her cunt against his probing tongue, rocking her hips forward, begging him to plunge into her gaping, hot opening. He began to grunt, and the vibration of his rutting sounds buzzed against her pussy lips. Faster and faster, his hand whipped up and down the length of his engorged cock. He opened his mouth wide, engulfing all of her throbbing flesh, then sucked hard, sending another bolt of ecstasy slamming through her cunt. Abruptly, he released her tortured flesh and rocked back on his heels, roaring with release as creamy cum spurted from the tip of his pulsing cock.
Dazed, Amanda leaned her head against the post and stared into the endless black sky, feeling her energy trickle away, leaving her limp and boneless. Her legs began to quiver, threatening to buckle at any second. She looked down at Nick, and their eyes met. A murmur stirred in her belly and she smiled. This pirate can capture me anytime he wants to.
Nick gently untied her ankles, taking a moment to stroke his hands softly over the red indentions left by the cord. He looked up at her and smiled, then dropped his gaze to her nipples, licking his lips suggestively while he stared at her body. Her arms were still tied behind the pole and, suddenly, she again felt shy, wanted the moon to disappear behind a cloud and hide her nakedness.
"You are very sexy, Lovable. You have body of a goddess."
Delight rippled through her belly and her reticence melted away. For the first time in her life, she felt sexy and desirable.
Warmth curled around her heart and she smiled invitingly. "Then you are Pothos."
Nick's face lit up, his smile glowing like candlelight. "You know Greek mythology?"
"I know lots of things."
He disappeared behind her, and the cord loosened and fell away from her wrists. Her shoulders ached and she wrapped her arms around her chest, suddenly disappointed to be free. Nick picked up her shirt and draped it across her shoulders.
"Why you dress like man? Such a beautiful body should not be hidden from man's view."
She grinned, thinking about the sexy clothes she'd purchased that afternoon.
"I will dress up for you tomorrow night."
He touched her shoulder. "We will talk about the gods."
* * *
Ten minutes later, Nick waited while she opened the cabin door. She turned back to him, hoping he'd take her into his arms. She wanted to kiss him, feel that ravishing tongue on her lips and inside her mouth. Her pussy pulsed at the thought.
"You are virgin?"
His question thrilled her—the daydreams would soon be reality.
She took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, but it has been a very, very long time."
"I fix."
He turned and disappeared into the night.
15
Nick hauled his exhausted body up the ladder to his bunk, and flopped onto his back. Man, that was the longest jack-off session I've ever had.
A deep voice drifted up from the bunk below. "Didja fuck 'er yet?"
Nick scowled. Boxer could be trouble. If he'd been lurking in the shadows on one of the upper decks, he'd seen the whole thing. Nick didn't want to tangle with the obnoxious sailor, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let the asshole have Amanda. She was his prize.
He kept his tone low and threatening. "No, and you ain't gonna help out. Understand?"
A nasty snicker pierced the silence. Nick waited for another retort, but a minute later, heavy snores rumbled through the cabin air. He exhaled slowly, surprised to realize he'd been holding his breath. The tension eased from his chest, and his thoughts returned to the images of Amanda's voluptuous body lashed to the post. His cock jumped to attention, and he grinned. Ol' Dick never gets tired of screwing. His fingers stroked the already-hardening shaft, feeling the raised veins that pulsed with smoldering need. He'd fuck her brains out just as soon as the ship landed in Caracas.
* * *
Amanda dozed, curled into the coil of rope in the morning sun, the abandoned book closed on her lap. Reminiscing about her captive adventures was far more interesting than the boring, almost commonplace escapades of opera prima donnas. She grinned, thinking of the stack of books she'd brought along. At sea for ten days, and I haven't even finished the first one. Thank you, God. Her musings evolved from erotic to inquisitive. Her reference to Greek mythology had sparked something in Nick, something she wanted to explore. What would a sailor know about Greek literature or history? Actually, with his dark looks, he might be Greek—she hadn't thought of that. She pictured him against the mystical background of Delphi or the Acropolis. Who was he, really? Her imagination soared again, casting the enigmatic seaman in a wide variety of intriguing roles.
She opened her eyes and sighed deeply. One thing was sure: his life had to be more exciting than hers. She smirked. At least, until now.
A noise behind her sent prickles of anticipation across her shoulders. Nick hadn't come around yet, and she'd been anxiously waiting for him to show up. Pretending to be absorbed in her book, she glanced up through her eyelashes at the man striding across the deck toward a winch, and her breath froze. It was the man who'd been so rough with Danielle. Amanda kept her head low, staring at the page, but not seeing the words. Floating in her head were provocative images of the sailor's cock ramming into Danielle while she egged him on. Amanda's pulse skipped and jumped, raced and slowed. The wild scene intoxicated her with need, but also frightened her. She had no desire to be taken by such a man. Nick's chiseled features pushed into her imagery. She was certain he could be just as much an animal, but he wouldn't hurt her—she felt certain of that.
She looked up again to pinpoint the seaman's position and nausea churned through her stomach. He stared directly at her, a nasty smile distorting his weathered face, his eyes hooded with unmistakable sexual intent. She couldn't breathe, her hands began to tremble, and she tried to swallow the rising lump in her throat. His boots scraped on the deck as he started toward her. Time froze. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't defend herself.
Nick appeared out of nowhere. "Boxer! That winch secured?"
Barking orders to the seaman, Nick strode past Amanda as though she were invisible, and she almost threw up with relief. She closed her eyes and struggled to slow everything down, gathering her sudden safety around her like a shawl. The huge rush of adrenaline began to ebb, and she felt weak and vulnerable.
Nick's large hand danced in her line of vision.
"Come. It is almost lunchtime."
Grasping his strong arm like a lifeline, she wrestled her wobbly legs under her and stood up. She met his gaze and her lower lip began to tremble.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You should find different place to read." He glanced back at the sailor, who had squatted down by the winch handle. "Crew is horny as hell now."
He held her arm as they walked toward the gangway, his touch sending shivers of delight across her bare skin. At the door to the officer's mess, he pulled a cigarette from behind his ear.
"We call at Puerto de la Guaira this afternoon. I am busy until eight." He smiled mischievously. "Everyone goes ashore to get laid. We will have ship to ourselves."
Deep inside, her muscles rippled and clenched with anticipation at the promise flickering in his eyes.
He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag. "I fix special dinner for you."
"Where shall I meet you?"
&
nbsp; A scowl flashed across his dark face. "You stay in cabin. Do not wander around. I come for you." He winked. "I really come for you."
He sauntered past her and vanished down a stairwell, leaving her breathless with excitement.
* * *
As usual, the two college girls were giggling when Amanda entered the dining room. Danielle seemed to have recovered from her ordeal. Her saucy body language and bold flirting held a young officer's attention, and Amanda could see his eager anticipation of screwing the girl before the trip ended.
Rachel waved. "Hi, Professor Barker. Isn't this exciting? Venezuela! I can't wait!" She suddenly jumped, then tittered and turned to the crewmember sitting beside her. "Stop that, you bad boy!"
Her expression and tone belied her words, and the handsome young man grinned lecherously. Amanda smiled and shook her head. When she'd been that age, she'd only had time for her studies. There'd been a few awkward scuffles in some back seats, but nothing she could sink her teeth into. Nothing like Nick's style. Warmth seeped over her skin, and her pussy pulsed against the soft confines of her panties. She willed the day to pass quickly.
Captain Olsen dropped into his chair and cleared his throat.
"You are ready for big night on the town? Caracas is wonderful place at night."
She couldn't meet his gaze. "No, yesterday was enough sightseeing for me for awhile."
He lowered his voice. "I show you very good time."
She glowered at him, her words hissing through her teeth. "You leave me alone!"
Olsen smirked, then turned his attention to his plate. Amanda breathed deeply, trying to quell her anger at his insolence. If kicking him in the balls hadn't given him the message, she had a real problem.
* * *
Sweat rolled down the back of Nick's neck, soaking his tee shirt. The brisk wind dried the moisture on his skin, provoking a crackling itch. He scratched his shoulders and frowned. What the hell was taking so long down in the hold? The crates were ready to be hoisted, and the truck waited on the pier.
He stepped over to the cavernous opening and shouted into the depths.
"Get a move on! We ain't got all day!"
"Fuck you! We're havin' trouble with a coupling."
Exasperation roared through his chest. Goddamned peasants couldn't find their peckers if their zippers were open. He glanced across the deck toward the open sea, longing to be back out there. He hated port calls. Too much noise, too many people. He needed the solitude of the rolling ocean—the only place he felt safe. A vision of Amanda's face flashed in front of his stare. She was the only glitch in his orderly, controlled life. In the years he'd been at sea, he'd fucked plenty of female passengers. Some good looking, some that needed sacks over their heads, but he'd never experienced the magnetic pull this timid schoolteacher had on him. A murmur ran through his groin and he angrily pushed the feeling aside. Tonight he'd have her. Once he rammed himself into her, his fixations about her would disappear. He only needed to conquer her once, reduce her to a whimpering, begging slut, then he'd be free.
He turned back to the wooden crate rising slowly from the bowels of the ship, but Amanda's face appeared again. Soft features, tender smile, trusting eyes. A woman with integrity. A woman who might penetrate his shell. A woman not to be taken lightly.
16
The afternoon sun slanted through the cabin window, sending Amanda's pulse into fast-forward. The second-hand on the travel alarm clicked slowly around the pale face, taunting her with the methodical, painfully slow passage of the hours. She lay on the bunk, refreshed by a deep sleep that had been punctuated only by erotic dreams of the things Nick would do to her that night.
She thought about her orgasm the night before, and her breath caught. The impact of the experience stunned her—a taste of what her body could do, where her passion could take her. Nothing like the fumbling, insensitive fingers of the college boys. She grinned, remembering a girlfriend's advice, long ago. "Just pretend you like it, then take care of yourself when you get home. It's as simple as that." Simple? Hardly. In all those years, she'd never been able to bring herself to the peaks that Nick drove through her. Even her vibrator had been quick and hard, cold, impersonal, almost unpleasant. No, this is what being a real woman is about. The ache, the building emotional tension, the exquisite pain of beautiful release—the thrill of possession by a man.
Heat rolled across her body and she rose from the bunk. She planned to fully prepare herself for him. Be squeaky clean, wonderfully soft, smell like beautiful flowers, be wildly willing. She peered into the closet. The new garments looked as beautiful now as they had in the shop. She pulled out the delicate blouse and caressed the soft fabric with her fingertips, all the while imagining Nick's hands moving over the white gauze, cupping her breasts and thumbing her nipples. When they hardened, he'd want to suck them. Her clit jerked and she rubbed her hand over her crotch, clenching her thighs, wanting to masturbate, eager to begin the erotic dream. She frowned and withdrew her hand. Better to be so horny she couldn't stand it, than to lessen the edge before Nick fucked her.
The colorful skirt swirled luxuriously as she turned it around to inspect the details. The fabric would swish between her legs as she walked. Perhaps Nick would slip his hands up under it and pinch her butt. The stir between her legs grew again, and she exhaled sharply. Turning away from the clothes, she glanced through the cabin window. The sun was setting quickly, bringing dusk on its heels. Night would follow soon and she could succumb to Nick's sweet torture.
She stood in front of the mirror, letting her robe slide off her shoulders and onto the floor. She stared at her body. He'd called her beautiful, sexy. The lumps, and bumps, and rolls of flesh she'd criticized, only days before, no longer seemed ugly. Nick had looked, and liked what he'd seen. Her nipples stiffened again, and she grinned. Anytime she thought about him, her body responded instantly. She cupped her breasts and lifted them, her fingers tentatively moving toward the hard brown nubs that pointed sassily at her reflection. Heat grew in her belly, and she felt her pussy lips unfurl with need.
"God, will eight o'clock ever come?"
She turned and padded into the bathroom. A moment later, pulsing water streamed over her, only partially dissipating the sexual edge that had gripped her all afternoon. A loud knock on the cabin door sent her pulse racing again. She glanced down at her naked body, then stepped out of the shower and shrugged into her robe. Maybe Nick couldn't wait for dinner.
"Just a minute."
A quick glance in the mirror showed the rosy remnants of her erotic thoughts. She smiled and reached for the doorknob. A second later, she clutched the robe across her chest as she stared at Captain Olsen's ruddy face.
His sharp gaze dropped to her chest and he smiled. "Miss Amanda, I come to apologize."
"Thank you, now go away."
She started to close the door, but he'd already wedged a heavy black boot against the doorjamb.
"Please, let me explain."
She pulled the robe closer and tightened the belt. "There's nothing to explain. You were drunk."
His shoulders drooped and his flaccid face looked sorrowful. "Please, it was not just the whiskey."
She sighed, glanced in both directions of the gangway, then stepped outside. "Okay, I'm listening."
He gazed out over the gentle swells of ocean. "My wife died last year. I have been very lonely. Is solitary life at sea, and now no one at home to welcome me."
A brief spate of sympathy loosened Amanda's rigid stance, but she said nothing.
He glanced at her, then continued. "I always hope to meet nice woman to marry. I am honorable man."
With all the emotional trappings cast aside, Amanda could see that he was a simple soul, like herself, looking for a human connection to make the journey through life a bearable one.
He shrugged and spread his hands out in the stereotypical gesture of puzzlement. "When you come on ship, I see you wear no wedding ring, you have no traveling companion.
..I think maybe you are looking for same things." He shrugged again. "I guess I am blind to the truth."
"What are you talking about?"
He snorted and straightened up into his full height. "You queer, right? Like women?"
His words slammed into her chest like a wrecking ball, knocking the breath from her lungs.
She recovered quickly and glowered at him. "Goodnight, Captain."
She pushed through her cabin door and snapped it shut behind her. How dare he! Just because I wouldn't let him screw me! No one had ever thought such a thing about her. Or had they? She remembered Nick's question about her clothing, and a flux of doubt crawled into her thoughts. Had she unknowingly been the butt of private jokes and insinuating snickers?
She tried to reconstruct her life at home. She'd immersed herself in her life with Mother and work at the college. There had been one older teacher who'd shown some interest, but she'd brushed him aside, too wrapped up in her own world to let anyone else enter.
She gazed into the mirror at her dismayed expression. Why was she letting this bother her so much? Why did it matter what Olsen thought? If her camouflage had fooled him, so what? She'd come on this voyage to find out who she really was, and Nick was the only person who saw her for herself. That was enough for now.
* * *
Nick watched the last of the crew eagerly troop down the gangplank to the waiting taxis, and he grinned with anticipation. They'd be gone until the wee hours of the morning. He'd be able to fuck Amanda all over the ship if he wanted to. Nah. I need to save some places for the rest of the trip. He ran a quick calculation through his head, then frowned. Only seven days until they reached Suriname, where the paying passengers would leave the ship to fly back to wherever they lived. Amanda would depart from his life forever. Damned good thing. He was beginning to like her, and the last complication he needed was a relationship.
Captain Olsen appeared beside him. "Sure you don't want to go ashore? Caracas is hot town."
"Yeah, I'm sure. You know how I feel about port calls." He flicked his cigarette butt overboard and moved toward the stairwell to the lower decks. "Have good time. Stay out of jail."