Interlude 22-77

Twenty Two

One of her 'more important' clients had received a rather large landfall, in no small part to her advice. As thanks, he offered to let her use 'his boat' for a few days. Not quite sure what 'boat' meant, she had politely declined. However, her curiosity got the best of her, as it is prone to do, and she called him to inquire further.

Turns out the 'boat' was an 80 foot tri-maran, based out of one of the more secluded islands near the US Virgin Islands chain. He kept a professional crew on board constantly, so it was immediately ready whenever he got a whim to fly down. Or, as in this case, he wanted to loan it out.

"All you have to do is show up, and they'll take you anywhere you want to go, do whatever you wish to do. You can even take that boyfriend of yours, if you wish," he had offered.

After thanking him and getting the details of who to contact, she hung up and wondered aloud "How the fuck did he know I was seeing someone?" Office gossip, no doubt, though she would have to be a bit more careful who she bragged about him to.

Five weeks later, after quite a few phone calls, some coordination with him to figure out timing, a flight to Miami followed by a couple of puddle jumpers, and a hop with a suicidal taxi driver, she is standing on a pier looking out over a small harbor. She dials the number she had been given on her phone, and tells the female voice on the other end that she had arrived. She is asked to sit tight for a few minutes, then look for a motor launch to pull up for her.

7 minutes later, she watches as a RIB pulls up alongside the pier. A gorgeous dirty blonde jumps up and out, tying the small craft up. She watches the blonde as she walks directly over.

"Hi there. You must be for the Sassy Bitch?" the young woman asks.

"I beg your pardon?" she blurts out, not quite sure what to make of what the blonde has just said.

"Oh, sorry. That's the name of our boat. Guess they didn't tell you that, huh? The name's BJ, by the way."

"No, no one mentioned it. How did you know it was me?" she inquires, honestly wondering how the young woman picked her out so fast.

BJ makes a show of looking around, then quips "Are you kidding?"

Following BJ's lead, a quick glance around her makes it abundantly clear that she sticks out like a sore thumb. It's obvious she is the only 'outsider' on this pier, from the amount of clothing she has on down to the slightly pale tint to her skin.

"Hmmm. I see your point. Gonna have to work on my tan a bit, it seems."

BJ chuckles a bit, picks up one of her bags, and turns to walk back to the RIB.

Admiring the shapely ass swaying in front of her, she shakes her head. A blonde, named BJ, wearing a bright red bikini whose number of square inches of fabric could be counted on the fingers of one hand, in the middle of a tropical paradise. This was certainly starting off nicely.

The short ride out to the Sassy Bitch is smooth, the harbor's water is like glass even at mid-day. BJ handled the little craft well, and has no trouble pulling it up to the stern of the tri-maran. Her guide takes her to the wheelhouse, and asks her to wait there just a minute. After two minutes, BJ returns with two others in tow.

"Welcome to the Sassy Bitch. My name is Jenna, I'm her Captain."

The brunette who is addressing her is beautiful. About 5 feet eight, Jenna's hair is dark brown with a hint of reddish highlights, and cut short. Wearing a Navy blue bikini bottom, the Captain's top is a thin, loose fitting white shirt, unbuttoned and tied high on her waist. The open area between the shirt's halves make it obvious that she's not wearing the bikini's matching top half underneath. The Captain's epulettes on her shoulders stand out, as do her nipples. The white cotton does a poor job of covering them. It is difficult to look the Captain in the eyes, with two tight, brownish colored nips stretching against the thin material.

"Hi, thanks. Sassy Bitch?" she asks, hoping to get an explanation for the name.

"Oh, that's what the Boss decided to name her. I think it had something to do with one of his ex-wives," came Jenna's off hand explanation.

The Captain points toward her assembled crew. "You've met Bailey Jo, BJ for short. She's our Entertainment Coordinator. In a nutshell, she's the primary person responsible for keeping you happy while you are with us. And yes, the name has more than one meaning."

Instantly she wonders if one of those meanings is the most obvious one. Bailey Jo is simply a stunning young lady. Maybe and inch or so shorter than she was, her long blonde hair was pulled back in a pony tail. The tiny bikini did very little to cover her large tits. From the way she had seen them jiggle while BJ walked, it was obvious they were not silicon balloons. The nipples strain against the thin red wedges of material covering them. It is certainly not cold, but BJ's tips look like it is about 20 degrees outside. The large puffy areola stand out from the masses of her breasts, their profiles easy to discern with a quick glance, the edges peeking out from the red material.

Rivaling her breasts as center of attention is her beautiful ass. Pleasingly rounded, it fits perfectly with her womanly hips. The girl must give one hell of a ride to any man lucky enough to hop in the saddle, she muses to herself. All in all, she is reminded of her girlfriend Sara as she takes another look at BJ.

The blonde doesn't say anything to her, just smiles and gives a little flirty wave.

Captain Jenna continues, "And here we have JD. JD is our resident Chef, Mechanic, and Chief Security Officer."

The man who steps forward takes her breath away. He's about six two, and ripped like an ad for a steroid manufacturer. What is not covered by the shorts he is wearing is bronze, tanned by who knows how many hours in the tropics. His close cropped hair was light brown, framing a face that had movie star looks surrounding piercing blue eyes. She instantly pegs him for ex-Navy. While giving him a good look over (and trying not to be too obvious about it), she notices the small trident inked onto his left forearm. That explained the quip about security!

Her roving eyes are captured and fixate just below his beltline. The loose floppy shorts cannot hide the bulge located there. This guy has got to be hung like a horse, she thinks to herself, quickly pulling her eyes back up towards his face. He is smiling, no doubt having caught her staring.

"Pleasure to have you on board, ma'am. Anything I can do for you, anything at all, you just let me know. Oh, by the way, if you have any menu requests, let me know and I'll see what we can do. Be forewarned, however. There ain't no McDonald's out here!" JD's introduction is exactly what she'd expect from him, given his appearance. She doesn't know whether to read anything into the "anything at all" part of his comments. A girl can hope, can't she?

She answers his query, "I'd die for some fresh fish, if you can manage."

He smiles, and replies with an affirmative smile, "My specialty, ma'am. I picked up a fresh grouper off a local fisherman just before you got here. I'll see how cooperative it is for dinner."

Jenna addresses her crew, "OK, troops, back to work. We've got to get out of here." At that, BJ and JD turn and leave, presumably to their getting underway chores.

Turning to face her directly, Jenna continues. "The three of us are here for your enjoyment. The only thing that takes precedent is safety. Safety of the boat first, your safety and our safety second. If we ask you to do something and we sound serious, please don't hesitate to do it. We've never lost anyone or had a serious injury, and I don't intend for you to be the first. I presume you'd agree?" the Captain asks with another smile.

"Oh yeah. I don't want to become shark bait this week."

More from the Captain, "You may see us acting affectionate towards each other. We like to have fun amongst ourselves, and that includes fucking our brains out now and then. Kind of keeps things loose."

She is a little taken aback by Jenna's comment and frankness, but is getting more curious.

Seeing the puzzled look on her face, the brunette tries to clarify. "We don't have relationships with each other, other than just having some physical fun. Of course, since we are here for your service, if you should feel 'the need for speed' with any of the three of us, I don't think you will find any refusals. Now, we're not hookers, or anything like that. Who we choose to get busy with is up to us, it is not part of our job description. The boss is fine with that."

"I am sure you noticed I mentioned all three of us. Let me explain that one a bit. You see, BJ's bisexual. She likes guys and gals, pretty much equally. JD's as straight as they come, strictly into pussy. Besides, with his cock, if he tried to screw a guy in the ass he'd split the poor bastard in two!" Captain Jenna chuckles at her own joke, while she shivers a little at the horrid image of some poor twink impaled on that monster.

The Captain leans forward towards her, allowing the white fabric of the blouse to drop away from her breasts, baring them to here gaze. "Me, well I guess I am what you'd call a lesbian. I like women. I will partake of a cock every now and then, just for variety and if I am feeling it. However, I really enjoy the sexual company of beautiful women."

"And, you are one beautiful lady."

Before she can even begin to formulate a response to the blatant come on, Jenna cuts her short.

"OK, well relax, go change into something much more comfortable, and enjoy the view while we get 'The Bitch' out of this harbor." With that, Jenna turns and departs the cabin.

5 hours later, something that sounds suspiciously like a dinner bell rings out on the intercom, followed by BJ's invitation. "Come and get it, or we'll eat it all ourselves," followed by one of her short giggles.

The dinner area is comfortable, with space for maybe 10 people comfortably. It is clearly built for entertaining a small party in luxury. She is semi-surprised, but happy that the 3 crewmembers join her to partake of JD's efforts. It was going to be a lonely meal, no matter how good it was, if she was sitting in there by herself. Not to worry. JD had prepared the grouper in three different ways, with a couple of local side dishes. Try as she might, she couldn't finish it all. It was a stupendous meal, one she would have expected at a Michelin Star rated restaurant. The wine was a curious one, and she asked Jenna about it.

"It's a local concoction, though for the life of me I don't know what they make it out of. I don't think there are any grapes grown in the VI," the Captain had explained.

The beverage was light, very fruity, and had about 3 times more alcohol in it than an ordinary wine. Her head was floating after a couple of glasses.

BJ looks at her and suggests, "Why don't you go up to the bar level? The sunset will be gorgeous, and there's plenty of that up there." The blonde points at the empty wine bottle on the table. "We'll take care of this stuff, you just relax."

Not one to argue with such fine hosts, she slides the glass door open, and finds her way up the short ladder to the open lounge area just above where they had just eaten.

The lounge is a covered, open air area. Surrounded on three sides by large, overstuffed white leather (not vinyl, thank you very much) sofas. The open end, facing forward, is where an extensive wet bar is located. The view is spectacular, accented by low, soft lighting.

Finding the wine is no trouble, and she tops off her glass. She's got quite a buzz going already, and has no intention of letting it fade away.

Taking a seat on one of the lounge sofas, she looks out over the water at the sun dipping behind one of the islands. The sea breeze wafts through her hair. They're doing about 8 knots, she thinks to herself. Fast enough for the cooling breeze and a gentle swaying motion, but not fast enough to be rough. After all, they weren't in a hurry to get anywhere.

After knocking down half of the bottle, she's really relaxed, and just happy as can be. "The only thing that would make this better", she thinks to herself, "is sitting on JD's cock right now".

She senses someone's presence behind her, just before hearing JD's voice, "Hey there. Anything I can do for you?"

"Damn, these people must be mind readers", she thinks as she slowly turns and looks up at him.

Not saying anything, she smiles and stands. Reaching behind her, she unties her bikini top and lets it fall to the deck. Bending over with a little less grace, she pushes her bottoms down to her knees, and lets them fall to the deck as well. Standing there in all her glory, she lets him visually drink in her body.

"Damn. You looked great in that suit, but what's underneath is just fucking gorgeous," he stammers out.

She kneels in front of his bronzed body. Looking up, she captures his eyes. Hooking her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, she slowly starts pulling them down. She has a bit of difficulty getting them up and over his rapidly stiffening member. As the fabric slides over his cock, and continues to slide over it, and then slides over it some more she wonders just how big he really is. In a couple of seconds she finds out.

As his cock head finds freedom from the waistband's restraint, it pops out towards her face a couple of inches. He's still in that delicious state of fullness, yet not completely hard. Involuntarily, she gasps at the sight.

JD doesn't have a cock. He's got a fucking anaconda.

Mouth open in astonishment, she just stares at it. All thought of continuing removal of his shorts leaves her mind, as she literally sizes him up. This monster has got to be a full 10 inches long. And, the fucker is thick. She notices this, and concludes that there is no way her hand will come even close to being able to encircle its girth.

Looking up at him with an incredulous look, she asks "What, did the Navy give you a bionic cock or something?"

He snickers a bit, then "Yeah, I get that a lot. Sorry, no mechanical magic down there, it's all natural, 100 percent All American beef."

She quickly takes the shorts down to his ankles, and he steps out of them. Rising back up in front of him, she takes him mid-shaft in her right hand. He is now achieving a really good stiffy, and she feels the blood pulsing through it.

"I was a swabbie for a while, but never saw anything like this in the arsenal."

"The guys in the Teams were always joking with me about it, saying I should take a picture of it, post it to the internet where the ragheads would see it and label it 'Made in USA - Medium'. But, that's probably against the Geneva Convention on cruel and unusual torture of your enemy." She wonders how many girls he's said those lines to.

Her right hand attempts to wrap itself around his cock at mid shaft. Just as she thought, her fingers can't meet because of his thickness. Her mouth begins to water. She wants to taste this gorgeous piece of man meat that has been offered up for her pleasure. Pushing his mass up against his stomach, she takes a look at his boys below. Damn, his balls were bigger than hen's eggs! And, he's got a fresh manscape.

Looking up at with a quizzical look, she catches his attention. "We heard we were getting some hot stuff on board for this trip, so I had BJ give me a trim", was his answer to her unspoken question. Well, she thinks, this crew really does look after each other.

Bending her head over slightly, she touches her tongue to his sac, marveling at the smoothness of the skin, and begins to tease his right nut. His head leans back, and she hears him let out a moan of pleasure.

She moves her twitching tongue over him, one ball at a time. There is no way she can get them into her mouth, and she doesn't try. It wouldn't do at all to hurt him. She feels the skin of his sac move beneath her tongue in response to her wet touch. It is already tightening, pulling his boys up against his body.

Shifting focus, her tongue finds the underside of the base of his shaft, and slowly begins its journey upward. Flicking it against his sensitive skin, she brings forth more moans from him. His hands grasp her head gently, and his hips begin a slow fore and aft movement. He is gentle, not attempting to face fuck her, but just adding some rhythm to her efforts.

The tip of her tongue traces its way around the base of his head, gently tickling it along the way. Around and around she goes, while gently massaging his boys with her left hand and slowly stroking the base of his shaft with her right. It's having her desired effect, for his head is tilted back, eyes shut, and the moans are continuous.

She shifts gears, and starts to run her rigid tongue up and down the underside of his cock while pushing it up against his belly. Slight flicks tickle the sensitive area under his head, and then back down to the base. She keeps this up for about a dozen round trips, varying the speed. She feels his legs quiver, knowing he is enjoying her work.

Pulling back off of him, she takes a good look. His shaft is wet with her saliva, glistening in the low cabin lights. He's not only BIG, his cock is absolutely gorgeous. It is exactly what a dick should look like. The color, the shape of the mushroom head, the throbbing veins on the side and underneath, and the way his sac hangs down from the base of the shaft. This is a rock star cock, one a porn stud would be proud to own. And here she was, working it over like a good little cocksucker.

Time to get back to work. She engulfs the head, barely managing to get the entire mushroom inside. Her tongue attacks the tip, furiously flicking away and pushing its way just a bit inside the opening. Her right hand starts to stroke him from base up to her mouth. Her left hand continues cupping his balls, gently squeezing them in time with each stroke.

Just as she tastes the first salty bit of pre-cum escaping from his cock, he gently pushes her head away. "Babe, if you keep doing that for just a bit longer, you're going to get much more than a mouthful."

She answers with a fake pout, "Well, we can't have that, can we? I've got plans for this monster of yours, and it doesn't include going limp on me just yet."

Standing, she leans her head back, and accepts his lips on hers. It's animalistic lust, not love, driving them. Neither of them have any misconceptions of what is going on, as their mouths hungrily attack each other.

He bends towards her slightly, and cups his hands beneath her ass cheeks. He easily lifts her off the floor. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. By design or not, her pussy is resting on his rigid cock, almost as if it was a shelf supporting her weight.

Their lips meet, and return to their hungry dance. Her hips and legs flex, sliding her labia against his length. Quickly, she feels her moisture accumulate along him, easing their movements. It feels like she is riding on a baseball bat.

Rolling her hips as she glides along his length insures that her clit gets its due on each stroke. It wouldn't take much of this to make her cum. However, she wants this man inside of her, but she isn't sure if her pussy can handle him.

Whispering in his ear, she is almost embarrassed by broaching the subject. "Hey sailor. I want that cock of yours inside of me right now." She then leans her head back and looks him in the eyes. "But, JD, I don't know if I can ..."

He gives a little laugh, and then cuts her inquiry off, "It's OK, some women can't take me all the way in. I've got a trick, though."

Still holding her up by grasping her ass cheeks, he maneuvers them a few feet over to stand behind the overstuffed sofa on one end of the lounge. Relaxing his grip, he lets her drop, but just a couple of inches. Her butt finds the top of the sofa, whose cushions easily support her weight. His cock is still underneath her, pinned between her warm, wet folds and the cool leather below.