The Gift

It couldn't last. Her pace picked up, her breathing quickened, my prick got stimulated, her pussy got stimulated, and her pace picked up some more. Soon she was driving herself down my prick, gasping great gulps of air, while I drove up into her, my hands at her waist, until we both climaxed with a great yell that scared the seabirds on the reef into a clamoring scramble.

Helen smiled down at me, still gasping for breath. "Wow!" she said.

"Wow, indeed," I gasped, struggling to adequately fill my lungs.

We stilled, gradually, Helen smiling down at me, beads of sweat standing on her clear brow. Her smile gradually faded and she stared at me, until suddenly she scrambled to her feet and ran from our camp, down to the littoral, where she collapsed on the sand, sobbing.

I got to my feet slowly, picked up a blanket and a handkerchief and went down to her. I said nothing, just put the blanket around her shoulders, then sat down and gathered the precious blanket-bound bundle of her into my arms. I held her close and waited. Gradually her sobs died away and she turned to me. I held out the handkerchief and she smiled wanly and took it, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

"Why?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I have absolutely no idea, but since he blew up my boat and didn't care whether he killed me as well as you, I think I have a stake in finding out. Whoever he is."

"Was theNora insured?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure whether being blown out of the water is covered." I shook my head.

"If it does, will there be enough for another boat?" she asked.

"Not like theNora." I shrugged. "I might have to crew for a while."

"Have you seen anything you like? Go on, pipedream a little." She squeezed my fingers encouragingly.

"Well, last time I was in Georgetown, there was another ketch for sale, a 65-footer, but it was worth twice as much asNora." I lost myself for a moment. I had loved theNora, very much, but she had limitations.

"What was she called?"

"Helena," I said. Almost as beautiful a boat as you are a woman, Helen Grant.

Helen was quiet for a few moments. "Steve?"

"Yes?"

She paused, then shook her head. "Nothing, sorry."

We napped for a while, then I checked the radio again. It seemed to have dried out and I held my breath while I re-fitted the battery and turned it on. The cheerful green glow from the display was a great relief. I switched it off again and stood up.

"What's up?" asked Helen anxiously. "It's working, I saw it."

"Nothing's wrong, I hope," I replied. "But I want to use as big an aerial as I can. I brought some wire from theNora, that should do."

Half an hour later, I had a dipole antenna - of sorts - strung between two trees, connected to the aerial socket on the radio. Taking a deep breath, I switched on the radio. Instead of the distress band, I switched to the frequency where I thought I would find Charlie. When I tuned in, I got a surprise, because I was being hailed.

"Georgetown Coastguard calling yachtNora. Georgetown Coastguard calling yachtNora. Come in please. Georgetown Coastguard calling yachtNora. Over."

I looked over at Helen, who seemed to be as surprised as I felt myself.

Charlie's patient voice went on, "Georgetown Coastguard calling yachtNora. Georgetown Coastguard calling yachtNora. Come in please. Georgetown Coastguard calling yachtNora. Over." There was a tone to Charlie's voice that suggested he had been calling for some time.

I switched to transmit. "YachtNora to Georgetown Coastguard, go ahead. Over."

Charlie's voice was excited, which is not usual. Charlie Abrams is the least excitable man I know. "Georgetown Coastguard calling yachtNora. Steve, is that you? Are you all right? Is Mrs Grant all right? Over."

I looked at Helen, bemused. She shrugged, as bewildered as I was myself.

"Nora to Georgetown Coastguard. We're both fine, Charlie. Over."

Charlie dispensed with protocol. "Steve, we understand that there may be a bomb on board theNora, in Mr. Grant's carryall. Find a gift-wrapped present in Mr. Grant's bag and throw it overboard. Now, Steve! Over." Charlie's voice was tense and nervous.

"Too late, Charlie, it blew up yesterday. Over." God, if only he'd called twenty-four hours earlier! I would still have a home and a living.

"What happened, Steve? Are you sure you're all right?" Charlie's tone was anxious. "Where are you? What about theNora?"

"Nora's at the bottom, Charlie. We stopped at Crab Island because Mrs. Grant wanted to look at the reef. We were in the dinghy when the bomb went off. We've salvaged enough for a few days, but we would like to be picked up as soon as possible. Over."

"Steve," said Charlie, "I'll call you back in twenty minutes, when we've sorted something out. Over and out."

I looked at Helen and smiled. "Rescue is imminent."

"Thank goodness," she said, grinning, and I realized that there had been a taut edge of worry about her which had gone now. "I'll make us something to eat while we wait for the call."

She did and it was her usual superbly effortless creation. Helen could do things with freeze-dried soups and our remaining ham that defied belief. Boy could she cook! It was nearer half an hour than twenty minutes before Charlie called back and everything had been organized. 'Cat' Chugman was picking us up and he was bringing Casey Kolinski to look at the wreck, but not until the next day.

'Cat' Chugman is a charter pilot. He got his nickname from flying Catalina amphibians while he was in the services. After twenty years in uniform, he'd retired and bought himself a De Havilland Otter floatplane that he used to fly charter groups out of Georgetown. He knew where we were and would pick us up as soon as he could the following day. Eighteen hours to wait.

"Tomorrow, Helen, 'Cat' will pick us up. He knows where we are, he's been here before with charters."

Helen smiled brilliantly. "Marvelous, Steve." She paused. "Who's Casey Kolinski, that the Coastguard wanted him here?"

"Casey is a retired forensic expert. He's also an experienced scuba diver. I guess they want his opinion about the bomb. I certainly do."

Helen smiled. "Smart move. So what do we do for the next eighteen hours?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Any ideas?"

"Just the one," she said, so quietly that I could hardly hear her. She came towards me and put her arms around my neck, looking up into my eyes. "Kiss me, Steve," she whispered.

I bent to her and kissed her gently. She kissed me back fiercely, then grinned at me.

"I think we both have the same idea," she said, indicating my prick which had started to thicken and lengthen.

I laughed. "I do believe you're right, Helen."

She smiled at me, her eyes smoky, and reached out gently, taking my rapidly hardening prick in her cool fingers, caressing it gently to a pulsing hardness. She pressed herself against me, my prick trapped between us, then raised herself to a high tiptoe, swinging her hips forward to take me, my prick sliding easily into her soaking cunt. She put her arms around my neck and lifted her feet off the ground, her legs around me, her ankles crossed behind me to lock her in place.

She grinned at me. "OK, Steve, your cock's where we both want it to be, now carry me somewhere soft so that we can fuck properly."

I carried her over to a mossy bank and went carefully to my knees, then tried to ease myself forward, but even Helen's slender weight was too much for me and I lost my balance, falling forward and driving into Helen with a force that brought a grunt from her lips. Then she was gripping me tightly and her hips were moving eagerly against mine. I sensed that this was not a time for finesse and began driving hard into her, pulling back and giving her my full length, reveling in the sensations she raised in me, exulting in the tightness and wetness of her cunt as my prick pistoned in and out of her.

She was getting increasingly vocal, yips and moans interspersed with anguished cries of "Yes! Yes!" as her nails raked my back and her heels locked behind me as she tried to pull me further into her. This time, though, Helen beat me as we raced towards our orgasms, but only just barely. As she was about to go down again, I felt my balls draw up tight as I plunged down into my own personal little abyss of ecstasy; the tingle in my upper thighs just preceding the frantic pulses of my warm jism splashing against the clutching walls of Helen's pussy as we came in a frenzy of prick and pussy and primal yells. Gradually we stilled and Helen eased her stranglehold on me, smiling at me as I eased my prick from her soaking channel, sweat beading her brow and running down the cleft between her breasts.

We lay beside each other holding hands and napped for a while under a sail I'd rigged for shade and then, unspeaking, reached for each other and made love again, slowly this time, easing each other to a gentler crescendo. After we'd eaten we just lay, contented, holding hands, then made slow, gentle love before we settled for the night.

Next morning Helen woke me by gently licking my prick like a Popsicle, giggling as it twitched under her administration, slowly hardening under her gentle approach. She lay on one elbow when I reached my full height, length or whatever, eagerly spreading her legs as I rose and turned, my prick angling for her pussy, welcoming me within her with a gusty sigh and a four limbed clasp. This time our coupling was fierce and torrid, as if we both knew it was going to have to last us for a while. Helen was screaming as she came and I yelled in male triumph as she throbbed beneath and around me, both of us gasping like fish out of water, sweat running from us in rivulets.

Gradually we stilled, until I eased out of her, just before I would have fallen out, and flopped on my back, taking her hand in mine. Helen came up on her elbow and leaned over to kiss me gently.

"We'll have a last swim in a couple of minutes," I said, "then rinse off in the fresh water. Then, my love, we'll have to dress because our rescuers are due sometime after ten." Helen nodded ruefully.

When we heard the drone of the Otter's engine, we were dressed and ready. Helen was wearing my old shorts again, this time with a shirt. She was wearing a bra, too, to my disappointment, but I acknowledged its probable necessity because of our visitors. Cat made a superb landing in the lagoon and beached the Otter gently beside where we waited. Once the engine had stopped I took the rope he threw me and moored the Otter firmly to a nearby tree.

"Hi, Steve," said Cat, grinning at me as he and Casey clambered from the Otter. He turned to Helen. "You must be Mrs Grant?"

I thought I should introduce them. "Helen, this is Cat Chugman - "

"Hello, Cat," said Helen.

"Howdy, ma'am," said Cat.

" - and Casey Kolinski - "

"Casey," said Helen.

"Hello, Helen," said Casey.

" - two very good friends of mine. Guys, this is Helen Grant." I smiled wryly. "We understand that the bomb or whatever it was came with us in Jack Grant's carryall, right?"

Casey nodded.

"Where did it come from, Casey?" I asked. "We thought it was a present for Jack."

"That's what you were supposed to think. It turns out that, er, a lady friend of Mr Grant's, er.." Casey paused, embarrassed.

Helen smiled at him. "Rosita?" she asked quietly.

Casey nodded. "Rosita Moreno."

"My husband's girlfriend," said Helen. "It's all right Casey, I know about Rosita. My husband and I are getting divorced. Not over Rosita." Helen shrugged. "Basic incompatibility, I guess. Quite amicable. He never even met Rosita until after we had made the decision."

Casey nodded, relieved. "Well, this Rosita works for a guy called Diego Guzman."

"He was the one who gave my husband the present," Helen said tautly, gripping my fingers.

"Right," said Casey, nodding agreement. "It seems Guzman was talking to some guy that works for him. Rosita was just outside an open window when she heard Jack's name mentioned." Casey smiled tautly. "She hid and listened, heard him say that they didn't need to worry, that Grant and his wife were out of the picture, that the company was ripe for takeover following their tragic deaths." Casey laughed. "Rosita is a quick thinker. She knew Jack Grant was OK, because she'd seen him about ten minutes earlier, so she went straight to him and told him what she'd heard. The two of them took the afternoon flight and Jack went straight to the police."

"And the police got onto the Coastguard, trying to warn us?" I guessed.

"Right," said Casey. "Mr Grant and Miss Moreno are in Georgetown, safe, and Guzman has been arrested. He's being held on a charge of attempted murder, pending an extradition request."

"What now?" asked Helen.

"What's the name of your company?" asked Cat suddenly.

Helen turned to him. "Morton Marketing."

"Now I got you," said Casey, "you're Bill Morton's daughter!"

"You knew my father?"

"Only to play golf with," said Casey. "He played to win."

Helen laughed. "Yeah, that was Dad, sure enough. When he died, he left me the company. Mom wasn't - isn't - interested in business. Dad left her financially independent. Me, he left twelve million and the company."

"Enough to kill for," mused Cat. "OK, guys, let's go see a wreck." He turned to me. "We brought four fully charged tanks for you and Casey. I'm no diver, but I can keep Helen company in the dinghy."

I nodded. "Fine, let's get on with it."

It took two hours and four separate dives, but when we'd finished we had about seventy photographs - Casey had thought to bring an underwater camera - and copious notes. The four of us were sitting eating a fabulous concoction that Helen had contrived from odds and ends, discussing the situation.

"I'm ninety-five percent certain that it was a bomb," said Casey. I am completely certain that the locker where Steve stowed the carryall was the center of the blast. I've got some fragments that I think may have been the timer, but we really need a full forensic team, and the sooner the better."

"In that case, we better get back," said Cat. He turned to Helen and me. "You guys ready to go?"

I nodded. "Just us and the two bags. Anything valuable from theNora can be salvaged later."

Two hours later we landed in Georgetown Bay. Cat taxied us over to Immigration, who sometimes get paranoid, but the guys there were old buddies of Cat, they knew me, they knew Helen, and we were through in five minutes.

"What are we going to do?" I asked Helen, as we walked over to Casey's Jeep.

Helen frowned. "I need to sort some things out with the Company, and Jack." She took my hand. "I'm going to be busy, Steve, I'm sorry. I'll see you as soon as I can. Where can I reach you?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "My home is at the bottom of the sea."

"You can bunk with me, Steve," said Cat. He took out a notebook and scribbled a number on it, before passing the page to Helen. "That's the house 'phone, Helen."

Helen was busy after that making sure that her divorce from Jack Grant was going smoothly, and that the Company was in good order. She told me later that she'd been worried by Guzman's assertion that it was ripe for takeover if anything were to happen to her and Jack. I hardly saw her for days on end, and then had to content myself with the occasional fleeting lunch. I was busy myself, trying to sort out the insurance on theNora. By the time that was done, I knew I didn't have enough for anything nearly as good as her.

I was rescued from my gloom by a 'phone call from Helen, asking me to meet her at the marina. She wouldn't say why, but I was pleased that she had been able to finally find some time to spare on me. I was saddened that she seemed to have completely forgotten the intimacy we had shared on the island.

At the marina, Mike Bohannon, the manager, met me.

"Steve," he said, "good to see you again. Come into the office."

"I'm supposed to meet Helen Grant here," I said.

"I know," said Mike. "She'll be here in about twenty minutes. She asked me to apologize for the delay."

"OK, thanks," I said, then asked Mike a question that I'd wanted to ask for a while, but hadn't dared. "Mike, is theHelena still for sale."

"Sorry, Steve, I sold her last week. The new owner is coming down later this afternoon."

I was disappointed by his news, at the same time chiding myself for even entertaining the ridiculous notion that there was some way I could have afforded theHelena. I shrugged philosophically. "Do you know if they want a skipper, Mike?"

"I have no idea," said Mike." He looked at me. "Do you want another look, just in case you never see her again?"

"I dunno, Mike. I might cry," I said ruefully.

"Come on, a beautiful boat is always worth looking at," he urged, and not having anything better I needed to do while I waited for Helen, I agreed.

TheHelena is indeed beautiful and I reflected that it would be wonderful to own something like her, but realized that it could never be. Mike and I were below when he glanced out through the port.

"I think that's Mrs. Grant just arrived. I'll send her along. You wait here, Steve." He smiled. "Privacy."

We went on deck and Mike hurried off along the dock while I gloomed moodily at theHelena. Soft footfalls broke my reverie. Helen. She smiled hesitantly.

"Hi, Steve, sorry if I seem to have been avoiding you, but I've been rather busy."

"It's OK, Helen." I smiled ruefully at her. "Maybe I read more into things than I should."

"You didn't," Helen said so quietly I almost missed it. She smiled at me while my heart began to beat again. "I've reorganized the company. I'm trying to give myself more free time," said Helen. "Jack takes over as Executive Vice-President, and Ben Sheldon moves up."

"Jack's still with the company?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes," said Helen, "We're still friends. He has some good ideas to increase profitability. Said he wanted me to have them even though we were getting divorced. I told him he had a year to prove the ideas himself."

Helen was quiet for a moment, then smiled and indicated the lovely vessel beside us. "This is the one you would have liked, isn't it?"

"You know it is, we talked about it enough on the island." When we weren't making love, I thought.

"Will you show me around, Steve, please. Mike Bohannon says it's OK."

I smiled ruefully. This was going to hurt. "This way then."

I surprised myself and enjoyed it, showing Helen over theHelena. I might still be able to sail her, if the owner needed a skipper. Sixty-five feet long, theHelena was quite a lot newer than theNora, with the captain's quarters aft, day room and bedroom, a spacious cockpit with every conceivable electronic aid, all major lines easy to access. The main cabin was spacious, the galley compact but functional, stainless steel everywhere. Forward, there were two guest cabins. Altogether there was room for six paying guests in comparative luxury.

We had finished the tour and we were standing in the captain's cabin. Helen smiled at me. "I see why you would want her, Steve, she's beautiful. Would you have taken me with you?" she asked teasingly.

"You know that I would like that more than anything else," I said. I reached out to her and brought her into the circle of my arms. She leaned back, a half smile on her face.

"The bunk looks comfortable, Steve," she whispered. "Can we try it?"

I pulled her close to me and lowered my lips to hers. The kiss was heated, urgent, dispelling the frustration I had felt with Helen being so busy. She seemed as eager as I was myself to renew our love. Her arms were around my neck and I brought my hands up and cupped her breasts through her blouse. Without breaking the kiss she put my hands to the buttons, and I hurriedly unfastened them, then flicked open the front fastening of her bra. Her nipples were rigid points of heat to my fingers. She loosened her arms from around my neck and hurriedly shrugged her blouse and bra from her arms. Naked to the waist she came back into my arms.