Aurora - Goddess of the Dawn Pt. 01

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are over the age of 18.

*****

RENDEZVOUS

All alone on an empty sea, the forty five-foot sloop Aurora carved her way into a brand new day, her bow rising and falling over the long, lazy swell with a ten-knot breeze filling the sails. This sort of morning was every mariner's dream... a gift... hand-crafted by Nature of the finest elements- wind and water, salt and spray, alloy, composite, and sailcloth. Away to the east, the Goddess of the Dawn, was busily unfurling her spectral wings, as the last shreds of darkness fled to the west. With a flash, the sun rose crimson into the cloud-cobbled sky, heralding another day in paradise.

And there, right on time, the palm-fringed shore of Wyvern Cay peeked over the horizon, just beyond the surf-bearded reef that bore its name. It wasn't much, but it was dry land, a chance to kick-back and camp out. A chance to swim, to sun bake, to forage and fish, to cook over an open fire and go beach combing. A chance, best of all, to stretch-out stiff sea legs, to revel in the respite, however brief, from a tiny damp world in constant motion.

Up in the cockpit, under cover of yacht's dark blue Bimini, a nineteen year old girl knelt with her elbows braced on the elevated moulding, peering intently at the lurching horizon through a pair of binoculars. Meanwhile, down below in the airy, wood-panelled saloon, an old man sat hunched over the keyboard of a grubby silver laptop, wracked by writer's block, as intractable as an impacted colon and just as much fun.

He'd just come off night watch. He always took the nights, up in the cockpit from midnight to dawn, while his companion slept safely and soundly below. He'd imagined an entire script during that quiet time but now the words so vividly conceived had gone with the dark.

He looked up, startled, as voice cried, "LAND HO!" and footsteps pounded across the overhead. The old man smiled. Every moment was a miracle for this young woman, from passing whales to shimmering sunsets, shooting starts to palm-fringed islands. Joie de vivre- the joy of life- so full of the stuff she had enough for them both.

Still, he had work to do. No sooner had his fingertips brushed the keys than a shadow flitted across his periphery. "Dommy," a voice said, slightly breathlessly, "guess what?"

The old man looked up. A slender silhouette was filling the hatchway, one hand on the grab rail, the other clutching binoculars, tangled blonde hair hanging down in a long silken veil. Pushing upright, the old man did his best to look pained. "Beck..." he said wearily, "please, Sweetheart, I'm really busy."

"There's a boat." the girl growled, ignoring his plight. "Off Wyvern Cay. The bloody thing looks like she's anchored."

Carefully closing the laptop, the old man climbed to his feet, pausing to steady himself before heading aft to the wooden companionway. Beck waited until he was eye level with the deck, then moved off to the high side of the cockpit, instinctively countering the roll and heave of their tiny world. Kneeling on the cushions, knees wide apart, she braced her elbows on the cockpit moulding and raised the binoculars.

As he emerged from below, the old man's gaze snagged the vision before him. Diminutive she might have been, but the naked nineteen year-old was a work of feminine perfection, from her swimmer's shoulders and strong supple back, to her broad canted hips and tiny waist. Glowing gold in the sunrise, her tanned skin glittered with crystals of salt, as if she'd just been rolled in diamond dust, and her platinum blonde hair reached all the way to the swell of her bottom. She moved with a deft economy, muscles flexing as she worked to keep the heaving target in view. Beauty incarnate, the old man thought, the stuff of his wildest fantasies. Not for the first time, he was tempted to pinch himself.

"God dammit!" Beck cursed. "Here. Take a look."

The old man took the proffered binoculars and knelt beside the limber girl, his knee touching hers. Twisting, she looked down and wrapped a small, cool hand around his dangling penis. "Naww, look at him. So sad and floppy."

"Not for long if you keep that up." the old man grumbled. Focusing the glasses, he tried to pin the distant vessel.

"Well is it?" Beck asked, busy interfering with the old man's privates.

"Sad and floppy? Not as much as a minute ago."

"The boat, idiot. Is she at anchor?"

The old man stood, feet spread for balance against the heaving of the deck. "Looks like it." he sighed, nudging her arm. "Here."

Beck dropped his member and took the binoculars, then raised them to her eyes to peer at the reef. "Aww..." she moaned, "what a ripoff. You said no one ever goes there."

"No," the old man replied, "I said I'd never seen anyone there. There's a difference." Overbalancing, he fell against the girl's naked back and his half-baked erection slipped between her taut, tanned butt-cheeks.

"Damon Watson!" Beck admonished, reaching between her legs to grab his penis, "You dirty old man! What are you doing?"

"You if you're not careful." Watson rumbled. Leaning back, he looked down frowning at his misbehaving appendage. "You're a bad influence. Do you know that?"

"Hey!" Beck shot a glare over her shoulder. "You stop picking on him, Mister! He just so happens to be a very good friend of mine."

"I was talking about you." Watson said, then gave his freestanding cock a slap, "Look! Now look at what you've done."

"You know," Beck cocked an eyebrow, "I know a way we can fix that."

"What about Wyvern?"

"What about it?"

"You still want to call in? I mean, with the crowd and all."

"Meh..." Beck screwed her face up, "why don't we just swing-by? Who knows, they might be leaving."

The whole world loves an optimist, Watson thought. "I'd better get below, then." he muttered with utterly no conviction, giving his aching member a squeeze. "A few minutes in front of the keyboard should get rid of this."

"I know a much better way." Beck said, grabbing him.

"For god's sake, stop provoking it!"

Beck's hormones were having a riot and it seemed such a pity to waste them. "But I love provoking it. And provoking and provoking til he spews all over me. Or in me for that matter."

"But I've got work to do."

"Who cares? You can work when you're dead."

"That's sleep, Beck. I can sleep when I'm dead."

"Whatever." Beck sniffed, "But there's one thing you won't be able to do and that's fuck! Come on," she snapped her fingers, "I'm a very busy woman. Do you wanna fuck me or not?"

Watson shrugged. Of course he did. The young woman was nothing less than walking, talking, singing, dancing human aphrodisiac. Resistance was useless, and they both knew it. "Okay." he sighed, "Just a quick one."

"Heh, heh, heh..." Beck teased. "Pushover."

Watson stuck a finger in her face. "Just for that!"

"Here!" Beck said, spinning him round and sitting him down. Kneeling between his knees, she scooped up his cock in one hand and his balls in the other and slid the glistening tip all over her face. "Hello little man," she cooed, "you ready for some fun?" She stuck his knob in her ear and after a few seconds nodded. "He said yes."

Beck opened her mouth, her lips in the shape of an 'O', and ingested the stiff dick to a depth of two or three inches. Sucking and jacking, she glanced at Watson's strained face, then pulled away briefly to tongue his balls. "Mmm" she said, licking the underside of his shaft all the way to the head, "Tasty."

Watson took her hands. "Come on, Chook, we haven't got all day. And if they've got even half-decent binoculars."

"Lucky them." Hands on the old man's shoulders, Beck threw a leg over his thighs and hovered over his lap with a big dimpled grin. "Be a dear and stick him."

"Such a way with words." Watson sighed, grabbing his shaft and steering it to first contact with the dripping heat of the girl's candy pink slit. Head down, frowning, Beck watched him plough the length of her furrow and when the tip sank into her entrance she bore down. Popping through the tight, muscular ring, Watson froze, teeth clenched, skin turning to gooseflesh. "Jesus Christ," he grated, "you're gonna strangle me."

"Sorreee..."

"It was a compliment."

"So you like?"

"Can't you tell?"

Slowly, and with great concentration, Beck worked her pouting pussy down the old man's shaft, then rose as far as his knob and settled again. The Watson watched in wonder as his turgid meat disappeared inch by inch into the torso of the straining young female. "Take it easy, Chook." he huffed, fingers digging into her butt cheeks. "Don't go giving yourself a tummy ache."

"I'm fine." Beck puffed. Tongue out as an aid to concentration, she wiggled her hips, sliding up and down, picking up the pace as her body adapted. Arching her back, she stuffed one little conical breast in his mouth, and once her nipple had been teased to the brink of delirium, she pulled back slightly and fed him the other. The old man suckled feverishly for a moment then Beck pulled away. Arms around his neck she settled into the rhythm, huffing and panting, savouring the deep impact of the rock hard cock. Sweat sprang in glistening beads from her skin and a tiny trickle zigzagged out of her hairline. Every few strokes, the tip of Watson's penis butted her cervix and she squeaked.

The rest of the world evaporated. The forty five-foot sloop with its blue-trimmed sails bumped and pounded through the chop, riding the long languid swell. Sailcloth luffed and rigging creaked as water thumped the hull and the autopilot whined with tiny corrections. Sitting back on the low side of the cockpit, Watson squeezed the resilient mounds of the girl's bubble butt as she bounced up and down, grunting, on top of him. "Becky," he warned, taking his first breath in a couple of minutes. "You'd better hurry. I'm... just about... there."

Hips bucking, Beck dropped her head onto his shoulder, and Watson buried his face in her hair, inhaling its wild perfume. Beck commenced rocking backwards and forwards, her pussy squelching, the old man's penis up to the hilt in her tight, slippery grip.

"Beck!"

"Nearly there!" Beck gasped. Reaching back, she fondled the old man's bulging balls, then fingered her tight-stretched pussy lips, feeling the thrust and pull of Watson's hard shaft.

"Beck!"

"Wait!" Beck cried, as her toes curled, "Here it comes. Dommy! Oh Dommy!"

The girl's cervix sucked at his sensitive knob like a hungry lamprey. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as the climax commenced, deep in her core, radiating out of her crotch and up through her belly. Fists clenched, toes curled, muscles all straining, she sat gasping and convulsing in the throes of beautiful agony.

Gripping her waist, Watson drove her down, buried up to the hilt in her, his cock jetting semen. Froth bubbled from the little blonde's pink pussy, coating his scrotum, pooling in a clotted puddle under his thighs. As her climax grudgingly subsided, Beck reached down, feeling where her body and the old man's became one. Teeth clenched, Watson shuddered through the last of his orgasm, while Beck stroked his shaft and squeezed his balls. Both breathing as if they had just run a long way, fast, they stared at each other in mutual triumph.

Beck tried to rise, but the old man was lodged so deep inside her and her grip was so tight that she just pulled him up with her. Patting her head he pushed her back down. "Woah there, Sweetheart, you'll do someone an injury. Let's take a breather." Tensing his muscles, he squeezed one last little pearl of sperm into her hot, slippery depths. He shook his head. "God dammit, Chook. You've turned me into a sex maniac."

"No," she shook her head, "it's all your own work. Was that fun?"

"Isn't it always?"

Beck arched her eyebrows. "That's not what you said the first time."

The old man gave her bottom a slap. "Now why did you have to go and dig that up?"

"Just saying. You should have listened to me in the first place."

"Jesus," Watson carped. "Rule one, a woman is always right. Rule two, if a woman is wrong, see rule one'."

"Now you're getting it." Beck beamed. Feeling around between the old man's thighs, she dipped her fingers in a puddle of cum. "That was a sloppy one. Want some?"

"No thanks." Watson shook his head. "I'm hanging out for the bacon and eggs."

Beck noisily sucked her fingertips clean. "Hang on," she said and wiggled her butt, "I think he's getting ready to come out."

Elevating, Beck tensed her pelvic floor and Watson's semi-flaccid shaft began to emerge. More of her juice mixed with his semen dribbled out, until only the tip of his penis was lodged inside her. Beck gave a push and out he came, jerking and quivering into the cold light of day. Dismounting, she settled at his feet and wound up back where she'd started, one hand cupping his balls, the other cradling his shaft. Licking and sucking, she cleaned him up from tip to base then, holding him aloft, suckled his balls for good measure.

"That'll do, Chook." Watson grated, leaning forward to pull the sweat sheened girl back into his lap, "Keep that up and we'll be stuck here all day."

Knees up, she settled into his embrace. "You know, for a grumpy old man who had to be dragged kicking and screaming..."

"What about it?"

"That was lovely."

Craning his neck, the grumpy old man took a look at the outside world for the first time in fifteen minutes. The mainsail was arctic white against the deepening blue of the sky, its airfoil curve as graceful as the wing of a gull. Aurora was holding a steady five knots, with a ten-knot breeze singing through the mainstays. Now he bothered to look, the strange boat, at first a mere suggestion, had taken on shape and substance. Slumbering in the aftermath of their frantic activities, Beck shook awake as Watson pushed her off his lap to bring the binoculars to bear. "Well," he said, "she's definitely at anchor."

Beck shrugged, no longer that much interested.

"You still want to swing by?" he asked.

"Can we still go camping?"

Watson shrugged. "It's a free country."

Beck yawned. "Might as well, then. Be nice to stretch our legs."

"And collect coconuts."

"Collect coconuts and fish."

"Collect coconuts," they chorused, "and fish and fuck!"

Watson stood, then pulled Beck to her feet and gave her bottom a playful smack. "Come on, let's see what's cookin', good lookin'. And you'd better put some clothes on before you give someone a coronary."

Beck reached for the sky, stretching. All pink and puffy from its festivities, her plump little pussy was still drooling cum. "You'd better put some clothes on!" she shot back, pointing at his cock as it swung fat, tacky and satisfied in the breeze.

"What if I don't?" Watson grabbed a fistful and shook it at her. "Do you think they'd notice?"

Beck arched her eyebrows with a sly little smile. "When I jump on top and start fucking it? Probably."