by Dreama Faire
From the corner of his eye, he watched Olsen trudge down the ramp and waddle toward the taxi rank. Sucking in a deep breath of night air, Nick glanced at the glow of the city lights and smiled. He planned to make this the best port call he'd ever had. He made his way directly to the crew galley to prepare for the evening repast.
* * *
Amanda stood in front of the mirror again, whisking away the last drops of water from her shoulders. The throb deep in her pussy again tempted her to touch herself. She stepped closer and tilted her hips. Pulling the puffy pink lips apart, she examined her clit—red, engorged, ready for Nick's cock. Her finger grazed the tip of the nub, and a shock ran through her cunt. She touched it again, fighting the urge to rub it until she came. Spidery tingles raced down the insides of her thighs, and her nipples hardened. Her long wet hair dripped onto her breasts, the rivulets trickling off the nipples, then running swiftly down her belly toward her pulsing, aching crotch.
Exhaling sharply, she stepped back and snatched up the towel. She was driving herself nuts. Only more one hour and she could soar. She focused her attention on smoothing gardenia-scented lotion over every inch of her body, massaging it in, the skin warming with her touch. Smirking like a schoolgirl, she opened the new bottle of shell-pink nail polish and carefully painted each toenail. When was the last time she'd spent any time on her body? The memory was faint, if it even existed.
She glanced at the clock and her breath caught. Nick would be there in less than thirty minutes. She jumped up and scurried into the bathroom. Staring at the landmine of cosmetics she'd purchased, her heart fell. This is a hell of a time to be learning something new...
No, I can do this. She carefully stroked pale green eye shadow across her lids, pleased by the way the color enhanced the flecks of gold in her hazel irises. She painted and brushed and feathered, her eyes growing larger and more luminous with each stroke. The magic of dark brown mascara turned her eyelashes into lush "come hither" ruffles. Peach colored cheek blusher and a touch of pale lipstick finished the picture, and she gazed in amazement at the seductive looking woman staring back at her.
She stepped into the skirt, slipped on the dainty sandals she'd purchased, and pulled the soft blouse over her head. Through the slightly translucent gauze, her brown nipples formed small mountains under the delicate fabric, and she smiled at her daring. Tonight, when Nick's hands touched her, he'd find no hindrance of underwear. The thought sent a pulse through her crotch and she shuddered with pleasure.
As she reached for a hairpin to secure her long hair, a sharp knock rattled the cabin door. Excitement stirred through her stomach. Letting go of her hair, she moved to the door, her heart racing as she opened it.
Nick's jaw was clean-shaven, his hair glistened with moisture, and a stray curl tumbled enticingly over his forehead. He wore a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled back over his muscular forearms. The shirt was unbuttoned low enough to provide a view of dark, matted hair on a deeply tanned chest. She stared open-mouthed at the vision. My god, how can anyone be so sexy fully clothed?
Mischief twinkled in his promising gaze, and his husky voice snaked through her thoughts. "You look good enough to eat. How about we skip dinner?"
She took a quick breath and giggled as she stepped back. "I still have to pin up my hair. Come in."
He came inside and closed the door behind him. In one quick pace, he stood close enough for her to smell his scent—spicy and masculine. His hand moved up the length of her neck, his fingers threading into her hair.
"No, leave it down. Much better."
His touch sparked the simmer in her belly, and heat flared between her legs. Her breath came in quick snatches, and she gazed into his eyes, trying to tell him, without words, what she wanted, that she wanted it now, and to hell with dinner.
Recognition brightened his eyes, the acknowledgement followed by a sly smile.
He grasped her hand firmly. "Come. A gourmet feast waits for you in the galley."
17
Amanda looked around with interest as they moved through a narrow companionway lined with small closed doors. The crew galley was located two decks below the officer's mess, in a part of the ship that hadn't been on the original tour. She followed Nick through a door at the end of the passage, then into a large mess hall that appeared to also serve as a recreation room. A television and two sofas filled one corner, and a ping-pong table took up the other side of the room.
Nick guided her through the common area and into a galley filled with gleaming stainless steel counters and worktables banked along one wall. A large stainless steel hood shadowed a gas cook stove and broiler at one end of the food preparation area. At the other end, a thick door with a heavy latch was marked "refrigerated unit." He led her through the spotless room to the corner, then made a sweeping gesture toward a small square table. A large red chiffon scarf had been draped across it, hanging in gentle folds over the edges. A tall white candle sat in the center, its yellow flame flickering in some hidden draft of air, casting its glow on a bottle of wine and two glasses.
She smiled with delight at his efforts. "This is wonderful. What's for dinner?"
He raised one eyebrow, letting his eyes drift slowly down to her nipples, which were now beginning to harden.
"You."
She chucked self-consciously, then glanced at the clear countertop. Seeing no evidence of food preparation, she looked back at him, asking the question with her eyes. His expression confirmed his intentions, and a flutter ran through her chest.
He picked up the wine bottle and expertly poured the ruby-colored liquid into two glasses, then offered one to her. The rich aroma tightened her throat with spicy promise.
He raised his glass. "To adventure."
The first swish of brilliant flavor seared across her tongue, setting her senses on fire, the warmth spreading down her throat and into her stomach. A second swallow burned with equally delicious heat. The alcohol raced through her blood, warming every inch of her body, tingling every nerve ending, and setting free her ever-present control. Nick's eyes focused steadily on her nipples as they grew harder, tenting the delicate fabric and begging to be touched. Her pussy ached, but she'd learned the rules of Nick's game. Submission without question. Ask nothing of him, tell him nothing of what she wanted.
His voice was heavy with meaning. "You are ready for first course?"
The clear intent behind his words slammed through her. She swallowed, tasting the last sip of wine at the back of her throat. Nick slowly slipped his fingers over the edge of her neckline and drew the front of the blouse down, exposing her breasts. The elastic settled under each globe, pushing the soft mounds of flesh up and out, forcing her rigid nipples to point provocatively upward. His fingers moved in slow, lazy circles around the erect nubs, increasing their arousal and sending arrows of excitement straight into her core. Her clit pulsed with each taunting revolution.
He grasped each nipple and squeezed while he stared straight into her eyes.
"I want to fuck you until you scream, but you cannot make a sound. You don't move or touch me. Do you understand?"
"Oh, God, yes," she breathed. "Nick, I want you to do everything. Make me come. Make me beg. I will do anything you ask."
He scowled. "I don't ask—I take. Lean back against counter."
She stepped back, but he didn't release her nipples, nor did he move forward. Her tits were stretched out between them, the discomfort delicious, yet almost frightening. Her butt touched the counter edge.
"Put your hands on the counter and leave them there."
She did as she was told, wondering what would happen next. It didn't matter, whatever it was, she wanted it. He released her nipples and opened a drawer behind him. A moment later, she stared in disbelief at the wooden spring-loaded clothespins he held. She opened her mouth to speak, and he shot her a warning look. She began to tremble.
Small wooden jaws closed around one nipple, sending a brief shot of pain through her ches
t. The clothespin pressed into the soft flesh and she sucked her lower lip between her teeth, fighting the urge to whimper. A second clothespin clamped onto the other nipple, and her discomfort increased. A warm sensation flooded her crotch and the hot juices of her pussy drooled down her legs. She rolled her shoulders, focusing on the pressure on her nipples.
"I like to watch you squirm. You are so innocent, so fucking fresh. My cock gets hard every time I see you."
The words washed over her and, immediately, she realized the pinch on her nipples felt good, the intense pressure matching the rest of her erotic agony. She watched him unbutton his shirt and shrug it off. It was the first time she'd seen his bare skin in anything other than the dim light of the moon. She feasted on the well-developed muscles rippling under warm brown flesh, his small hard nipples rigidly silhouetted with lust. Her gaze moved to the prominent bulge in his pants, and she licked her lips in anticipation of seeing his shaft unsheathed.
"You really want to be fucked, don't you? Miss schoolteacher wants a hosing she'll never forget."
She nodded, not wanting to answer, for fear he'd stop. A half-thought flashed through her brain, then disappeared before she could hook into it. What had she just seen? Or heard? She pushed away the distraction and parted her lips as Nick lifted the wine glass to her mouth. She drank deeply, feeling the delicious warmth soothe away the tiny bit of unease that had threatened the moment. Carefully, Nick released the clothespins and she flinched, instantly missing the intense pressure, and craving more. She wanted to savor all the feelings and sensations that now flowed freely, uncontrolled by her mind.
He took a swallow of the wine, swished it around his mouth, then clamped his mouth over her burning breast. The cool wetness sent a shiver across her shoulders. The probing, rigid tip of his tongue flicked her nipple, driving her desire up several notches. She wanted to touch his skin, feel that curly black hair on his chest, finger those hard nipples.
His lips released her nipple, then brushed across her chest, moving toward her neck, his breath hot and steady, his tongue taking long, seductive laps over her skin. A hand moved beneath the blouse and slipped through the waistband of her skirt. His finger found her navel and wiggled into the small opening, while his teeth grasped the flesh at the base of her neck. An arrow of pleasure cut through her belly and she rolled her head back, crazy with the need raging through her.
His voice rumbled across her skin. "Time for the main course."
18
Nick slipped his arm under Amanda's legs, lifted her effortlessly, then swung around and set her on a butcher block in the center of the room. Her pussy ached with anticipation, but she resisted the urge to touch herself. Nick grabbed the hem of her blouse and, in one swift movement, pulled it off over her head, and tossed it on the counter. He stepped over to a storage cupboard, his movements quick and filled with purpose, his expression unreadable. When he turned back to her, a wicked glint brightened his eyes. He lifted his hand and waved what looked like white chiffon scarves.
"Lie down," he commanded.
She recognized where the "main course" was headed, and a thrill raced through her gut. She eased back, flinching at the cold, hard surface against her bare skin. She stared up at the maze of pipes and ducts that crisscrossed overhead, listening to Nick's movements and fantasizing about what he might do to her while she was bound to the chopping block.
He worked quickly, pulling her arms above her head, and securing her wrists to the corners of the butcher block. While he worked, he glanced down at her once. Raw lust simmered in his eyes, and the fire in her belly flared. He moved to the foot of the table, then deftly pulled the skirt down over her hips and tossed it aside in one movement.
Completely naked and vulnerable, she felt a wave of anxiety ripple through her gut. A brief vision of Danielle's plight intruded, but Amanda shut it out and refocused, remembering the heady sensations she'd experienced when Nick had tied her to the post on deck, and her own belief that he wouldn't hurt her. The fear disappeared, replaced by excitement that crawled up her thighs, inching steadily toward her aching crotch.
Nick's tone sounded gruff and commanding. "Spread your legs...No, wider."
Bathed in the brilliant fluorescent lights of the galley and surrounded by stainless steel, she felt like a scientific specimen about to be dissected. Her legs were still dangling over the edge of the butcher block, and when she spread them, a knee-jerk shock of embarrassment slammed through her thoughts. The cool air rushed over her flaming open flesh, and she tried not to think about where she was. Sex-hungry men could invade the crew galley at any moment, and she was there for the taking. The image of being fucked by a group of men was both frightening and stimulating.
To calm herself, she concentrated on Nick's soft touch as he wound the chiffon around her ankles, then tied them to the legs of the butcher block. If she changed her mind, her freedom would depend on his integrity. Would he release her if she asked?
"Nice cunt. Big, juicy. Needs giant cock. Maybe I'm not big enough, eh?"
Stunned by his tone, she raised her head to look at him. He'd removed his jeans, and his dark brownish-pink penis stood straight out from his body, twitching with anticipation. She stared at it and forgot about her earlier worries, thinking instead about feeling that cock inside her, and succumbing to the delicious sensation of her pulsing cunt, now jerking and twitching at the erotic imagery.
Nick's voice was husky with determination. "I think we start with this."
From beneath the counter, he produced a huge cucumber, at least twelve inches long with a thick shaft that tapered to a blunt end. She gasped, tearing her gaze from the instrument of intended torture, to stare into his eyes.
He nodded, a wicked smile sharpening his features. "Yes, I thought so."
She opened her mouth to protest, then remembered the rules. My God, he can't use that. It's too big. Her throat tightened with frustration. Why can't he just fuck me?
He moved to stand between her legs, and she closed her eyes. She was helpless to change the situation—she'd have to submit to his wishes if she wanted to continue the game. And she certainly did. A stir slithered through her belly.
In an instant, her thoughts soared in another direction as Nick's fingers grazed her swollen pussy. He grasped both pouting folds of flesh and tugged lightly, pulling the foreskin over her clit and sending a rush of anticipation into her core. His thumbs settled into the creases alongside her cunt, then moved firmly up beside her aching clit, his nails lightly scraping the tortured nub. A jolt ran through her and she bucked against his fingers.
"You like this. I see your cunt is begging me for cock. Maybe I give it to you tonight...maybe not."
She swallowed hard, wanting to tell him just how much she liked it. She lifted her hips, trying to keep the pressure of his fingers against her twitching clit. His thumbs moved together, squeezing the pulsing knob of nerves, tighter and tighter, causing her hips to jerk involuntarily. She wanted to cry out, but was terrified that he would stop.
His finger moved to the crease just below her clit and lingered, teasing her with the promise of penetration. Her flesh throbbed with exquisite pleasure. Quickly, he thrust a thick finger hard and deep into her cunt. His other hand pressed on her lower belly, pushing her flesh down against the finger that probed the depths of her vagina. Intense waves of need rocked her, and she pumped her hips against his exploration, her movements hindered by the shackles.
"You will be good fuck when time is right," he said, his insistent fingers continuing to massage the inner sheath of her cunt.
Urgency began to build behind her clit, and she concentrated on moving rhythmically against his sweet torture, trying to make herself come. He withdrew his finger from her cunt, and she exhaled sharply with disappointment. He chuckled wickedly, then slipped the finger back inside her, and teased her to the edge again. Her pussy was gushing—she could hear the slurp of her juices against his skin. He pulled out again, and another frantic wav
e of frustration rolled into her head. Please, let me come!
His finger moved to her butt hole, and she jerked, totally unprepared for the erotic sensation. She'd never been touched there, and the jolts of excitement that ran through her pussy sent her clit into a twitching, throbbing frenzy. His finger moved in a small circle around the tight anal flesh, then slipped back into her cunt. He repeated the tease two more times, driving her crazy with the need to feel him inside her. Then, the tip of his finger pressed hard against the firm anal opening, and slid through the tight ring.
"Oh, Nick! No—"
A burning pain shot through her groin as his finger wedged against the tight muscle. He didn't stop, but his voice sharpened with authority.
"Quiet, or I leave."
His fingertip stayed in the opening of her ass, and in a few moments, the uncomfortable sensation eased—even felt good—and she relaxed against his exploration. If she wanted him to fuck her, she'd have to let him do whatever he wanted.
His fingers slid out of her body and he stepped away, leaving her aching for more.
"Now, I get you ready for my cock."
She closed her eyes and released a long, slow breath. She felt the cool, firm end of the cucumber press against her plump, aching pussy lips, then push into her, pulling her clit down into direct contact against the smooth, hard surface. Nick's fingers grasped her clit and pulled it out of the path of the cucumber, his touch sending raging flames through her belly. He continued to lightly squeeze the tender nub while he slowly worked the tip of the oversized vegetable into her cunt. The thick shaft inched inward, and Nick rubbed her clit harder. She focused on the feelings crashing through her genitals—the cool slick surface of the cucumber creeping forward to fill her completely, the warmth of Nick's fingers on her flesh. He let go of her clit, and she involuntarily bucked against the huge dildo.