Aurora - Wings of the Goddess Pt. 01

"Hookers?"

Uh huh." Bragg nodded. "Chinese, Russian, African. You name it. You could fuck your way through the United Nations of sex."

Watson rubbed his jaw. "Tempting. But if I didn't go over, or I couldn't, would Becky be safe? It's the Middle East we're talking about, Rodge, almost as bad as Sydney."

"Damo," Brag sighed, "she'll be there with Alana. She won't just be safe, she'll be impregnable. You know how big she is?" Bragg flattened his hand at waist height, "Alana? Well she's one of the ballsiest human beings I've ever come across. Ally Cat? I'll say, a bleeding Siamese-pitbull cross."

"Really? Well when we were in Canberra she seemed almost polite."

"She was putting it on. She's a professional, yes, but don't let that fool you. She's a product of her early career, in the Top End, chasing cattle and flying blackfellas around. It was the proverbial school of hard knocks. You know the old saying? The best form of defence is an offence? Well Ally took that to mean she had to be offensive. All the time. In your face, loud and obnoxious. That mouth of hers," Bragg palmed his forehead, "holy shit! She could make an outlaw biker blush."

Watson smiled inwardly recalling Ally's last words to him... 'you never know your luck in the big city'. Perhaps it was more a threat than a promise. Still, if this grand plan went ahead, he might yet sample the wares of the cute little honey badger. "You sure she wouldn't lead my pure, innocent girl astray?"

Bragg raised a hand. "I never said that. But think about it. Ally started flying when she was twenty. It took her ten years to make it into the captain's seat on the Stream. With the right sort of backing and that 'reserved' sign on the copilot's seat, Beck could make captain by her mid twenties. A magnificent achievement and one that would reflect very well on the company. Equal opportunity and all that."

"Where's that leave poor old Ben, if Beck hijacks his seat?"

"Exactly where he wants to be. In management. He's a good pilot, don't get me wrong, but his heart's just not in it. He has his sights set on corporate, he's made that clear. Not like Alana. She lives to fly. She's in her element when she's deep in the shit, shooting an approach at night in the pissing rain. She gets off on it, I'm sure, and I'm tipping Beck will too. When it comes to flying, those two girls are peas in a pod."

"Win, win huh?"

"As they say in the classics."

So there it was. A roadmap to the future. Beck would soon embark on a career that would take her all over the world, cruising the stratosphere in cutting-edge technology, living in five star hotels, rubbing elbows with the rich and beautiful. Sloshing around the tropics in an ageing monohull, with a geriatric partner for company, seemed positively desperate by comparison. "You were saying Vicky's a part of the plan?"

"Well that depends on you... Damon... If this goes ahead, what will you do?"

"Do?"

"Would you come with her? To Sydney? We could put you up in an apartment in town. It wouldn't cost anything, and I could line up a berth for Aurora." He arched his eyebrows. "We could put her right next to Rebekah. They could rub hulls again."

"Rodge..." Watson said, "mate... thanks. I appreciate the offer but the answer is no. Really. I spent too long fighting my way out of that rat race to ever go back."

"Which is pretty much what we figured. And that's where Macca comes in. She owns a two-bedroom apartment, about twenty-minutes by train from the airport. She's offered to look after Beck if it all goes ahead. She'd have her own room and there's even a study. She'd look after Beck like a mother tiger, believe me."

Watson's dick roused itself. What better excuse to catch up with the gorgeous young post-evangelist? Bragg shivered at a passing gust and Watson pointed with his beer. "Don't look now, Rodge, but you're still starkers."

"Well what do you reckon?"

"Err... maybe you could put something on?"

"About my idea?"

"I'll think about it."

"Hah!" Bragg's grin lit up white in the gathering gloom. "You know a little bird once told me, it always means 'yes' when you say that."

Watson shot him a sidelong glance. "Let me guess... a blue-eyed, golden crowned, double-breasted bedthrahser?"

"Can't reveal my sources, Damon. So what do you say?"

* * *

Watson was woken by the sound of footsteps thudding onto the deck. Pushing up, he peered blearily in the direction of the saloon as a voice called, "Postman!"

Beck breezed in looking freshly showered and radiant. "Special deliveryyy." she warbled, tossing an envelope onto the bed, before flopping down on her back beside him and skimming off her shorts.

Watson turned the envelope over. It was addressed, in scrawled handwriting, to Master Bates Watson, with the 'Bates' crossed out to the extent of making it obvious. "Where's Rodge?" he asked, tearing off the end of the envelope and shaking out the enclosure.

"He had to go." Beck replied, bouncing up, knees spread, naked from the waist down. "He had to get up at five to catch a flight. Actually he got up at three, and again at four, then again at four thirty, then packed his bags at a quarter to five and got up again before the taxi came."

Beck's outer pussy lips peeled open with the splay of her knees, exposing the delicate petals of her inner trimming. As Watson watched, a long, lazy string of clotted white fluid spiralled out of her insides, clinging on by the skin of its viscosity.

"You're leaking." Watson nodded.

Beck gave her hips a wiggle and the drip lost its grip, landing on the sheet between her knees. "I'm not surprised. My back teeth are just about swimming."

"What in?" Watson asked conversationally, scanning the page.

Beck leant over and pushed him down with her forehead. "Spooooooge!"

She sat back and Watson straightened, the letter in his hand, still unread. "You know," he said, eyes riveted to the sight of Beck's drooling vagina, "sometimes I think you're addicted to the stuff."

Beck opened her mouth to protest but the old man beat her to it. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Shouldn't you be reading your letter?"

"If you'd stop distracting me."

Arching her back, Beck peeled her top off and her breasts sprang free, her nipples already hard. Leaning past Watson, she plumped his pillow and pushed him down. "Here, why don't you read it lying down."

"What are you doing?" Watson asked, making himself comfortable.

"Your koala fuck. If you still want it."

"Want it? Of course I want it. I won it fair and square."

Beck pulled the sheet back and ran the tip of his gathering erection all over her face. She kissed his knob then tongued its flared base. "What's the letter say?"

"Well if you'd just let me read it..."

It said...

'Sorry I had to cut and run Damo, but the rumble in the jungle is about to go down and I have to get back to the office. It was sensational catching up with you, and of course your generosity in letting your girl keep me company was humbling. As always.

I'll be off to the Dark Continent in the next week or two, then other destinations unknown. Tanya will be back at the end of the month and may be making a special delivery. In the meantime, please think about my suggestion. There is a 'tour' starting mid-year and I believe it is easily achievable, all things being equal. Once again, no one is a attempting to steal anyone, it is an offer from the heart, and not just mine.

The sail was brilliant, BTW. I hope in the future we can sail somewhere in convoy, once I learn the ropes. Literally.

Once again, thanks for your awesome generosity- the beer, the boat, the certain substances. And of course access all areas to the Goddess of the Dawn.

Looking forward to next time,

Take care mate

Roger'

"What did it say?" Beck asked, far more interested in the old man's now rock hard erection.

"It's a bill."

Beck looked up through her eyelashes. "What for?"

"Legal advice."

"Did Roger give you legal advice?"

"You were there, remember?"

"Where?"

"When Roger said you owed me a fuck."

"But then he said I didn't, remember?"

"So what are you doing?"

"Consolation prize." Beck said, lying down on top of him and shimmying up the length of his torso. Her firm little cupcakes squashed into his chest and the hard bump of her smooth, hairless pubis pinned his cock.

"Did you have a good time with Roger?"

Beck rolled her eyes. "Did I!"

"Did you tell him you were going to be a pilot?" Watson asked, leading the witness, wondering whether Bragg had spilled the beans.

"What do you think?"

"What did he say?"

"He said he thought I'd make a fantastic pilot. He reckons if I work hard enough, I can be in the same place as Alana in five or six years, but the first few years will be plain hard slog."

Pushing up, Beck spread her pussy lips over his cock like a little pink saddle and rocked her hips backwards and forwards. Whatever was leaking out of her made an excellent lubricant and for a moment the old man was lost for words. "That feels nice." he grated. "Did Rodge have anything else to say?"

"Just the usual. How meeting me was one of the best things that happened in his life. How I had the tightest, wettest, hottest-"

"I get the picture." Watson grunted. She had told him by omission what he really wanted know.

Rising on one knee, Beck reached underneath and scooped up Watson's cock, then ploughed her furrow with the tip. Settling her weight on him with a wiggle of the hips, she popped him through the taut resistance of her opening into the grasp of her slippery insides. She let out a long, low groan. "Ooooohhhh... Dommy..."

"Don't you go enjoying yourself now, Moosh. This one's mine, remember?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Beck grated, shimmying as far down Watson's vertical pole as she could go. "You know Domdom, I love Roger's cock, but at the end of the day... this is where I really belong."

Watson reached around and cupped her butt-cheeks in the palms of his hands, a perfect fit and such a familiar sensation. "I'm happy to hear that, Moosh. It is pretty special." The tip of his prick bumped into her cervix then squished into a tight convolution, somewhere up near the small of her back. She'd been fucked senseless for half the night and her dimensions were readily stretched, so her pubic bone was soon bumping his. Hands flat on Watson's chest, she curled her fingers, head back, eyes closed, mouth hanging open. Her hips picked up tempo, jerking to and fro, raking her clitoris over her old man's flesh and bone. Her pussy smacked and squelched, whipping her body fluids and Bragg's residual cum into a froth.

After five minutes of furious fucking, Beck suddenly stopped. Heavy-breathing, she looked down at Watson, sweat dripping from the tip of her nose. "Are you gonna cum?"

Watson nodded. "Are you?"

"Uh huh." Beck replied breathlessly, "I've been waiting for you."

"Well I've been waiting for you."

"Well don't. This is supposed to be your fuck, remember?"

"But that's the best part. Feeling you cum."

Beck set off again, slowly at first, gradually picking up speed. This time there was no holding back, and Watson poured all his concentration into the all-consuming sensation. He had just opened his mouth to warn her when Beck's insides turned frictionless and her muscles gripped his prick like a little wet fist. She collapsed onto him, growling and groaning, grinding her pelvis onto him as hard as she could. Her clenching, convulsing vagina detonated Watson's own climax, and he powered into her, fingers digging into her ass-cheeks for purchase as he humped and squirmed, hosing his semen deep inside her.

As the old man puffed and panted through final throes of orgasm, Beck lay down flat on his chest. "Roll on top of me for a couple of minutes?"

Watson did as asked, settling most of his weight on her as she flopped her knees to the sides, idly stroking his back. "If life was like this for everyone," Beck said, barely a whisper, "the world would be paradise."

Watson thought about it. Here he was, in the forward cabin of a forty-five foot yacht, lying on top of a beautiful young girl, half his size, one-third his age, his softening cock lodged deep in her belly. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest, smell the perfume of her sweat-damp hair. Her highly toned pussy was clenching and relaxing, slowly relinquishing its grip. Sunlight streamed through the porthole over his head, and the boat was rocking gently side to side.

Beck was right.

If everyone could experience this incredible magic, there would be peace on Earth and goodwill to all lifekind.