Charlie's Young Man comes again.

"A penny for your thoughts! What's your name by the way?"

Charlie paused; she was about to introduce herself when the thought struck her that it might be better to preserve an air of mystery and romance about the whole episode. She quite liked the idea that she had this intimate experience of him but knew nothing about him.

"It is unlikely I shall see you again and I would quite like to preserve what we have between us as something special, something unique. You've been calling me Lady and I have been calling you Young Man. So let's just leave it as it is, a mystery, ships passing in the night, quite literally, shall we?"

"You call me Young Man but I think you are about the same age as me."

"And what age is that?" She asked, smiling.

"I'm twenty nine. I'd guess you are the same or maybe younger."

"Close enough." Charlie smiled more broadly, relishing the fact that he thought she looked almost five years younger than her real age.

The restaurant buzzed with conversation, mainly centred on the recent storm and the imagined heroics of various men in saving their boats from imminent disaster. In reality, most were ill prepared and were lucky that there was no further tales of loss or damage to tell. The atmosphere was relaxed now; the splendid food and wine had reduced the adrenalin effects. Charlie and the Young Man spoke of the past. She skipped the details of her monetary success, merely explaining that she made 'enough' from a career in writing fiction for women, as she called it. She told him her intentions, to sail to Curaçao then on to Venezuela to do some research for her next book. He replied that he had never been that far south.

He told her of his father. He had spent his whole life as a deep-sea fisherman, working hard out of Maine ports. His career battled not only the seas but also the markets and the IRS. He eventually gave up when the government introduced quotas, restricting his income. His advancing years persuaded him to retire. His father admitted that fish stocks were dangerously low and argued that prices should be allowed to rise to depress demand rather than subsidies be paid to fishermen to procure expensive fish at unrealistically cheap prices. His father retired at forty-nine and sold his fishing boat, at a loss. He bought this boat, running charters for well-heeled guests. He kept at it for two years until he met the second love of his life.

His father, now fifty-six, lived in Florida with his new love. He and his young wife, 'Elisa May Gershwin, no relation to George' as she would introduce herself, visited and fished with him for two weeks each year. The rest of the time, they travelled the world on her substantial income from her late husbands' business. The Old Man had done well for himself since he retired. The loss of his first wife a year after he retired had been a shock to his system but in the end had given him a new lease of life. He picked himself up and met his new wife while taking a party out on his boat. The Young Man explained how he got the boat as a gift on his twenty-fifth birthday, nearly five years ago.

He renamed it 'Father Out', rather witty, he thought. Charlie smiled good naturedly as she listened then explained the naming of her own boat. The sadness and remorse brought on in the past when she had related the story were surprisingly absent this time. She supposed that the more often she repeated it the more of it would flush from her system. It could be something to do with the fact that her emotions were in turmoil. Caused, no doubt, by the encounter and the subsequent interest the young man paid in her well-being.

They paid the check, he insisted on going Dutch even though she could more than afford it. They motored quietly back to his boat along the beach. She sat close to him in the dinghy, even though there was plenty of room for six. She placed her hand casually on his knee, as if it was an accustomed habit; he covered her hand with his own. It felt good, decided Charlie. They approached his boat in the pale starlit glow of a typical tropical night, the storm now completely cleared away to the east. The wind had died to its usual pleasant breeze and a half-moon had risen behind scattered high cirrus. The young man mischievously suggested,

"As your dinghy needs re-inflating and it is now dark and I don't feel like pumping up a dinghy after such a meal, might you like to stay a further spell on my boat?"

Charlie was quick to reply, surprising herself once again with the brazen smirk on her own face,

"Perhaps you might like to pump up something else instead?"

Again, their grins told the story. He steered the dinghy across the now quiet water to the rear of his boat, and they climbed aboard.

"You do much diving?" Charlie asked, as she waited briefly for the young man to secure the painter of the dinghy to the cleat on the stern of the boat.

"Whenever I can, Lady."

They both giggled somewhat childishly and grabbed at each other, shedding clothes and shoes as they stood in the rear cockpit of his boat. Charlie looked around and noticed a light on the boat not far away; the occupants could see them in the moonlight, she guessed. She had never been an exhibitionist; she suggested they went back to his cabin. As they stood naked at the foot of the bed, Charlie reached up and cradled his face in her strong hands. She turned his face toward her and asked,

"Do we know each other well enough to kiss properly?"

He lowered his head slightly to one side, his right, leaned forward and touched his lips gently onto hers. Charlie responded by pulling slightly on his face, her fingers slipping around to touch his ears and neck, increasing the pressure of the contact. Their mouths meshed, lips pouted and nipped gently at one another. Charlie relaxed her jaw and allowed her mouth to open. His lower lip slipped into her mouth, touching gently on her teeth. She sucked on the pliant flesh. She sneaked and snaked her tongue between his teeth, tasting his lips and tongue. She flicked the tip from side to side, savouring the sweetness of his flesh. The lingering flavour of expensive Cognac disguised the slight, but not unpleasant, taste of smoke.

It was their first kiss of thousands. He devoured her mouth, covered her face, licked her eyes, her ears her throat. He laid her gently on the bed and continued to kiss every square inch of her body. His lips glided and skimmed across her skin much like an ice skater. His tongue darted this way and that, flicking her nipples into sturdy peaks of pliant flesh. His hands and fingers joined the voyage of discovery. His strong fingers roamed freely over, around and within every crease and crevice of her now writhing body. The combination of kisses, licks, strokes and presses was enough to have Charlie squirming in ecstasy. She was now more ready for his body than she had been earlier this afternoon. Her vagina ached, she needed him deep inside her, but he was making her wait before he filled her with what she wanted so very much.

He had another plan. He wanted to reward her for the oral compliment she gave him this afternoon. His head dipped between her legs once again. His hands pushed gently at her thighs, spreading them wide, opening her to his gaze, his lips, his tongue. Charlie was relaxed this time, no hesitation as she spread her legs wide for him. She looked down dreamily at his head, holding gently on to his shoulders. The young man flicked his moist, firm tongue over her flesh surrounding her swollen pink lips. He probed gently at the folds of flesh, flicking his tongue back and forth until he found the bud, the core of her sexual feelings. He lazily swirled around and around the area, pulling softly with his lips, baring his clean white teeth and allowing them to slide gently over the fleshy lips. Totally lost, Charlie closed her eyes; her head rolled back, her hands held her sensitive breasts. Her long fingers swirled over her swollen nipples, her back arched; her well-defined, smooth legs folded and unfolded beside his solid body.

He lapped, as a kitten would lap at a milk-wet finger, long appreciative strokes, from the lowest depth of her crease, upward, over her tingling vagina until he rested, momentarily, on her throbbing clitoris. He paused, applied a little pressure and could feel on his tongue, the pulses as he triggered her response to the insistent stimulation. Back down again to repeat the process, repeatedly, again and again. He slid his hands under the cheeks of her backside, slightly raising her hips. This allowed him even easier access to her vagina. His thumbs pulled her ass cheeks slightly apart, allowing him to extend his licking further down, deeper and darker, to her very core. Charlie moaned as soon as she felt the cocking of the trigger once again. His aim was good, she decided. This afternoon's orgasm had been more of a hurried release after being celibate so long. It had been an electric shock to her system. This was different, slower, more drawn out, smouldering for longer before the blue touch-paper got really fired up.

Charlie ground her hips up to his face; her clitoris now quivered with tension, alive with sensation. She howled her appreciation as she rode the long slow, inexorable bullet. The sensation travelled from deep within her, rushed headlong to every pore of her being. Her whole body contorted involuntarily as she came in heaving, clenching, throbbing, clutching, aching, screaming, unbelievably satisfactory shudders. She felt as though she was internally combusting from her clitoris, the fire spreading both inwards and outwards.

Charlie came out of her orgasmic rapture a minute or so later. She looked down to see the young man's head clamped between her legs, his nose buried in her soft, short, almost white pubic hair. His mouth, still clamped wide open over her vagina, burned her lips. His tongue remained motionless, thankfully. More stimulation would be more than she could bear just at the moment.

"Your turn again." said Charlie dreamily.

Rolling over, she raised her buttocks and spread her knees wide apart. She looked back at him, her arms supporting her weight.

"You like?" She grinned.

"You bet!" He grinned wider.

She bent her arms to bring her head to rest on her forearms, taking her weight on her elbows. She offered her sex to him, open and yielding, exposed to his gaze and his penis. Kneeling behind her, the young man rolled another condom over his erect penis. Moving forward he placed the bloated head against the open lips, sliding easily into her grasping vagina. He began his same rhythm, back and forth, back and forth. Charlie reached down between her legs and grasped his hanging balls gently in her fingers. Wet with her juice, she played with them eagerly, pulling them back and forth. The young man kept up his incessant pounding, plunging deep within her; the whole length disappeared on each stroke. The feeling of total domination and fulfillment overwhelmed Charlie. She wanted this one to be his, his own special orgasm. She would just ride this one out. He slowed slightly, and then resumed his pace, now faster, sweat dripped from his chin onto her back.

She watched his face over her shoulder. He fixed his gaze intently on his penis and her vagina. His fingers caressed her anus, probing gently at her puckered ring of muscle. One wet finger slipped easily inside. He transferred the lubricant from her vagina to her ass and slipped his finger in and out, repeatedly. Charlie felt intensely fulfilled, deeply satisfied and hopefully, satisfying for him too. It looked like it was! It was neither something Charlie ever tried nor something she considered necessary in her lovemaking with Graham. She was not so naïve that she did not know the young man had the idea to put something other than his finger in there. Charlie smiled at the thought. He was not going to get it all his own way though.

"I think it may be too big." Charlie whispered.

The young man paused in his tender probing. He took the hint and removed his finger. He slid his hands firmly over the globes of her up-thrust backside, kneading and massaging the firm flesh. Her juices and his sweat combined to make a glistening tunnel for him to slide his swollen rod back and forth, in slow measured strokes. Charlie relaxed now, knowing he was happy to continue with his penis buried inside her pussy. She did, however, feel a sense of emptiness when his finger ceased its gentle probing. The feeling of being full to capacity was far more pleasurable than she first imagined.

"Put your finger back in there, that isn't too big."

"Oh lord, Lady, you got it!"

The young man drew back slightly, transferring his wet finger to her dark ring and pushed gently inside her again. He resumed his stroking, gently, sliding easily inside the hot tube of flesh.

"Ah, yes, that's good. Now fuck me, slowly."

He resumed his earlier rhythm. Long, slow, deep. Long, slow, deep. As he progressed, Charlie began to push back, forcing him deep inside her. She transferred her fingers from his balls to her clitoris. Charlie rolled the tips of her fingers over the swollen nub of exposed flesh. Her intention was to let him have his own pleasure but this was just too good to miss. Her fingers played across the throbbing bud and then slipped around the soaking rod of rigid flesh. The young man pumped more roughly into her. She heard him moaning as his orgasm approached. The combination of her fingers, his cock and his voice was enough to send her spinning once more over the precipice. Her orgasm coursed through her just as he roared behind her back.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, oh God I'm coming!" he roared, his voice hoass with desire and passion.

With that, she felt his penis bulge and shudder within her, he withdrew his cock from her clutching pussy. With a flourish, he removed the restraining condom. Charlie felt jets of warm fluid shoot high over her back and buttocks. Careful to prevent the fluid reaching her anus or vagina he slid up and over her back, laying on top of her now collapsed body. His deflating penis lay squashed in the small of her back. They gasped for air, Charlie's head turned to one side as his mouth covered hers in passionate kisses.

"Next time, we stick to diving." She exhaled loudly.

Charlie muttered, as she laid, exhausted with the weight of the young man comfortably on her hip and shoulder. Soon afterwards, he rolled clear. She backed into him. His arms wrapped around her torso and cupped her breasts. Their sweaty bodies dried in the gentle breeze coming through the open portholes. Sleep overtook them both as they lay in each other's arms, glued together by the fluid squeezed between them. The storm inside the boat had cleared away along with the storm outside.