Come Aboard

"Okay?"

"Okay," came the muffled reply. Sandy noticed that the girl's slim fingers were resting just below her mound, two fingertips glinting with clear moisture. Sandy was so tempted to let her own finger stroke just gently, accidentally, along those weeping lips: she was pretty sure she would get no push back, or maybe she would get exactly that, but no argument. But she decided to be cautious, just stroking the inner thighs a millimeter from that tender plumpness, perhaps a few too many times; and then she moved on down the strong legs to the calves and then the feet.

"I'd better get your soles; a hell of a place to burn."

Sandy got a surprise. Jennifer wasn't exactly ticklish but it was obvious she loved the feel of Sandy's hands on her feet. Her tiny moans became more regular and a bit louder.

Sandy stopped. "I'm sorry. Is this hurting you?" She knew it wasn't. "Should I stop?"

That little head wiggle; so Sandy continued, pulling on each toe with a little too much slickum. Jennifer's buttocks were squeezing in rhythm now. Her voice sounded like puppies. That turned Sandy on, especially when she thought about what she was doing, kneeling naked, in the middle of the harbor on her boat, her hand holding a beautiful leg, an agitated foot pressing into her belly.

"Oh, that's good, so good, but, but wait, wait... I need ... I need ... I need to pee!"

In a second Jennifer's well-oiled body was up and through the hatchway and scrambling and slipping down the gangway on slick feet. A thump.

"You okay?" Sandy shouted toward the door.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Thanks. I just slipped, I just need ... a minute."

"Take all the time you want!"

Sandy was actually relieved to be alone for a while because she wanted badly to get off. It wouldn't wait. She was very damp and her clit was actually aching. That was new.

She flopped down on her spot and was about to apply fast and furious fingers to her tender bits when she heard a moan that could have come from her own mouth. She was just about to call, "Are you alright?" when she bit her lip. Jennifer was alright. She was good from the sound of it. She couldn't be quiet, thank heaven. And the moans seemed to be coming from Sandy's bunk. Sandy had the irresistible urge to see what was going on, or getting off.

"The portholes! Of course. But what a dirty girl I am. What if see sees me peeking? Damn it. I don't give a shit. And she is clearly busy."

Sandy stretched out on the narrow deck next to cabin. The nearest oval porthole was only a few inches above the decking. So she could lie there and press her face against the glass. Light coming from the sun on the other side sent dusty beams down into the cabin. The rays highlighted graceful legs and hips. Jennifer's head was hidden in the bow, but the rest of her was right there, and busy. Knees spread to reveal glistening private flesh eager for the long fingers that were so fiercely pushing in and churning.

Jennifer's groans revealed how much she needed release. Her vibrating fingers were almost invisible; punishing the ruddy bump that was the center of her desire. Tiny droplets caught the light as they flew into the air. Her thick buttocks squeezed tight lifting her beautiful hips high.

Sandy thought the girl would explode in a few seconds, but her hands would not stop; one set of fingers plunged deep inside, the others working the outer bits for all they were worth. Sandy began to ache herself, needing Jennifer's release to fuel her own. Her belly was popping and her hand was cramping. But she couldn't stop her own hands.

Jennifer was struggling to get it and her voice dropped down into her belly, moans so hungry that Sandy could feel them in her own breasts and vagina. Her body was humming now and she wasn't really able to watch the girl any more, focused on her own humping. But a sudden cry of "Oh no! Oh no!" hauled her attention to the porthole.

Jennifer's hips were high and her tender area stretched open as she shuddered to release and a silver stream glistened for a moment into the sunbeam. Then she collapsed, clutching herself and squeezing her knees together.

Sandy's orgasm was not as dramatic; but she came again and again in small bursts; aftershocks hitting her when she thought she was done. The deck got a little wet and she didn't give a shit. She just lay there breathing like a seal on a rock. After a while she rolled over and let the sunset make love to her breasts. She dozed.

"Now can I help get the food ready?"

Jennifer was standing over her in the gloaming. Orange and pink were in the sky behind her head. She handed Sandy a beer turning politely away from her host spread naked and open on the deck.

"Sure, why not? Y'ever cleaned and filleted a fish?"

"Filleted, I think. Salmon. Had to get around all the bones, right? The rest of it? Killing a fish. Not so much."

Sandy decided she wasn't going to baby this kid. She had been planning to do her own fish barbecue. Hell, she'd show her the ropes. Then she remembered she was naked. Jennifer had pulled her shorts and top on.

"You want to shower or anything before dinner? I did. Hope that was okay? And oops, I got a little water on your bed. Sorry."

Sandy didn't ask how that happened because she knew Jennifer knew she knew.

"No problem. I don't always wash up a lot before I hit my berth."

"Birth?"

"My bed. Yeah. No harm, no foul. Let's eat."

Naked, she fixed her cutting board to the rail and got out the fish locker.

"So. You grab 'em by the tail and whack them right down on the board. Usually that knocks 'em out if they are lively."

Jennifer's turn to make a face.

"Sorry, Jen, that's the way it is. They are living things and lively is good, because it means they are fresh. Too lively and you gotta whack 'em on the head. Then you want to cut the head off right behind the gill slit. You want me to show you?"

"No, I've got the idea."

She pulled a medium-sized bluefish from the ice and thumped it firmly on the board on the rail.

"I can sometimes just behead 'em in a blow. Best you put the knife blade on the fish and pound it with the palm of your hand, no, use this chunk of tackle. That's right. Just whack the back of that knife."

She was afraid the girl would chicken out. But she went right at it. Bang! The head was off.

"Just chuck it in the water. Sometimes I keep 'em for soup, or crab bait, but nevermind. Now you gotta slit him up the belly and scoop the guts out."

This usually separated the girls from the women. But Jennifer wasn't even a little bit green. Just a small frown on her pretty forehead.

"Head to tail, or tail to head?"

"Hold the tail and poke a little hole just up from it, then slit up to where the head was."

The girl was a natural. The fish was opened up; the innards flipped out.

"You sure you haven't done this before?"

"Nope, but I've done a lot of poultry. It's weird. I like it. Kind of connecting with the real thing, not just some packaged shit. Shall I do two?"

"Well, I don't know how much you can eat. But hell, sure, I can eat leftovers or catch crabs. It's all good. I'll get the veg and potatoes."

Sandy wanted to be cool, but as she went down to the hold the words 'how much you can eat' were jangling in her head.

"I'm a dirty old bitch, ain't I? Girl comes to a pretty resort town to write her stories and ... but, shit, I don't know what she is into. Still, I won't push it."

She grabbed a couple of onions, some tomatoes, and a couple of zucchinis. She was going to take three, but dropped the largest one back into the ice. She didn't let the idea fully form, but her belly clenched as the thought of something firm and cool reaching in ....

"It's a fucking dinner, for fuck's sake." She grumbled to herself. But she knew that her hunger at that moment was for more than well-charred fish and steaming vegetables.

As dinner roasted on her handy pot grill she cracked open the scotch.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to have a couple of pops of this before dinner."

Jennifer bit her lip.

"Hmm, I don't usually go for the hard stuff; I'm, like, beer and wine, sometimes tequila. I might get too shit-faced to paddle home ...."

"Yeah, well, look at the sun. You probably don't want to paddle back in the dark. So I guess you are sort of 'Shanghaied."

"What's that?"

"Oh, old sailing days, the captains used to stop in Shanghai where they would get a bunch of sailors drunk and take them on board as crew, and the guys wouldn't come to until they were way out at sea."

Jennifer was silent for a moment.

"I pretty much knew I was staying on board when you asked me for dinner. So can you rig me something out here on deck? I would like to look up at the stars. The sky is so clear here."

"I could, or you could take my berth and I can take the deck. I'm used to these old boards. So, that drink?"

"Sure. Since I don't have to drive home."

Sandy poured the scotch into two old mugs.

"What shall we drink to?"

Jennifer was quiet for a moment.

"How about 'adventure'? Yeah, let's drink to adventure."

"Sounds good to me." Sandy raised her mug and clinked Jennifer's.

"To adventure."

"To adventure. Wow. This is ... actually really good once you get used to the way it kind of burns all the way down. I like the smokey aftertaste."

Sandy took another sip, looking out over the harbor where the lights were winking on in the distant buildings, reflecting across the water, silhouetting the bobbing boats. She wondered if her sense of 'adventure' was the same as Jennifer's.

They didn't talk a lot while they ate. The food was too good, the zucchini just the tender side of crunchy, the bluefish with its dark and light meat a little fishy, but holding the scent of the olive oil basting and the charred crackle of the crisp skin. More beers with the food, really cold, the bubbles biting the lip a little, cleansing away the oil and the light fish funk, making a nice buzz in the brain.

"I'm going to smoke my one cheroot," Sandy said, knocking the thin black cigar out of its box. "Hope you don't mind?"

Jennifer shook her head.

"It's your boat, and I'll bet that tobacco mellows out the whole dinner, which was fantastic, by the way. Maybe I'll take a quick puff of your smoke, if you'll let me."

"You want one? They're pretty raw ..."

"Nah, just a puff or two to keep you company."

Sandy fired up and the nutty smoke drifted off the deck over the water now just tickled by a few orange highlights from the sun's final edge. Somehow the slosh of errant waves against the hull was louder. Branson light swept the harbor every minute and a quarter.

Sandy and Jennifer sat with their backs against the cabin, gazing out over the harbor. A mild breeze rang the tackle of distant boats against masts.

"I'd like to kiss you, if you wouldn't mind," Jennifer said quietly as she handed back the glowing coal of the cheroot. "As a sort of thanks, for everything."

This caught Sandy by surprise, but she liked the idea.

"You don't owe me affection for providing dinner. I don't work that way."

That isn't it. It's just the whole thing, the beautiful day, the good food, the interesting company. And now a moon is coming up over there and it seems like a really good time to give you a kiss."

"Okay." Sandy didn't move.

Jennifer reached out a warm hand and touched Sandy's cheek, slid it into the tangle of curls at the back of her neck. Leaned in. Warm and moist breath just leading the touch of soft but wonderfully firm lips. A taste. Magic.

Scotch. Fish. A hint of garlic. The unique flavor of Jennifer herself.

Sandy stopped, checking in.

"You sure you want to be doing this? Is it the drink kissing me? I mean, I don't want you grumbling round the decks first thing in the morning; can't wait to get off the boat because you made a drunken fool of yourself."

Jennifer drew back and fixed Sandy with her sunset eyes.

"'M'not drunk ... or not drunk enough to not have any idea what I'm doing. I've kissed a girl before ... but not a mature woman, and I was intrigued if it would be different."

"Is it?"

"I don't know. Because I'm not kissing just anybody. I'm kissing you, and your kiss is ... what? Special? It's like there's something a little bit like a guy in it. Sort of rough ... not mean rough, but ... not like a girl, not hesitant, not flirty .... I don't know, it's ..."

"Don't you think you ought to shut up and do a little more kissing? I love watching your mouth move, but I'd rather feel it move, okay?"

"K."

Jennifer got close again, a little hungrier, lips wider, tongue more available, and both of them got lost in it for a while. Sandy felt her breath getting shorter and shorter.

"Honey, I gotta stand up. The back of my head is making love to the cabin wall, and the wall is not half so lovely as you are, though, truth be told, it has gotten me alive through some serious storms. But this is a storm I want to be in."

She grabbed the girl by the shoulders and walked her backwards to the rail, kissing as she went. Their bodies matched, breasts crushed against each other, hard nipples teasing, hipbones paired, so they couldn't help but do an old-fashioned dance, moving hard against each other.

Jennifer giggled.

Sandy held her at arms length and peered at the girl's grinning face. "Something funny?"

Jennifer gave a quiet snort. "I'm sorry. You are a great kisser, but all of a sudden I realized I wasn't getting something I usually get when someone is coming on hard ... and that is ...." She giggled again " ... something ... hard ... and I ..."

"You miss it? You wish I had a cock?"

"No ... yes ...not exactly. It's just that with a guy I kind of know what he wants to do, and I have to get ready to, like, tell him to keep it in his pants, or ... not. I have to think about it and now ... I don't."

"You disappointed?"

Sandy had one hand on the rail. She let the other one slide from Jennifer's shoulder to the top of her breast.

"This okay?"

Jennifer nodded. She had her ass against the rail and was looking over her shoulder at the dark harbor with just a flirtation of moonlight.

"How do I feel? Different, I think. Excited, because I really don't know what happens next. Tiny fish leaping in my gut. But I don't think I have to figure out what to do, do I?"

"Nope."

Sandy was in no hurry. On the one hand, she had already landed this fish, and a beauty it was. She was probably going to have to throw it back after a while, but it didn't seem to be in any danger of drowning in thin air. I fact, she was taking to this kind of loving like ... she wouldn't even say it. The kid's a natural. She let her palm rub some hard nipple and Jennifer turned to look at her, panting a little.

"That's so ..."

"Isn't it? More?"

"Oh yeah; and can I ... this is so cool, we both can ...." Her hand slid inside Sandy's hoodie. "There you are."

"Yeah." She was surprised that the girl's cool fingers on her nipple sent a jolt right into her vagina, and for a second it squeezed tight. "Easy, girl, milk it."

And with that thought, she did that exactly, Matching Jennifer's move, sliding her fingers onto naked, puckered flesh, lightly pinching the chubby knob at the crest of Jennifer's full breast.

"Oh, God." And she knew that the girl was feeling that some demanding clench inside. "Slowly, slowly."

"I'm getting so hot. I need ... "

"A cold beer?"

"Uh, okay, yeah, that ..." Jennifer was shaking her head. Sandy dove for the cooler and pulled out a cold brew, deftly knocking the cap off on the rail.

"There you go ... although, wait. This was what was hot, right?"

She tugged the girl's stretch top all the way off her full breast and laid the cold bottle up against the exposed nipple. Jennifer shrieked.

"You beast! You're worse than a frat boy. Stop that; sometime in the next hour."

Sandy grinned.

"Sorry. Here, take this and drink it while I warm up that chilly puppy."

Holding up the bottle for Jennifer to grab, she dove straight for the cold nipple, surrounding the whole thing with her hot mouth, massaging it with her tongue. She glanced up to see Jennifer's mouth and eyes wide, the beer bottle loose in her hand.

"Don't drop that. I'm getting thirsty."

"Okay." Jennifer came to her senses and took a deep swig. "But two can play at this game."

She shoved the bottle in Sandy's hand and tore open her hoodie. A second later Sandy's right breast was bathed in a mouthful of cold fizzing beer, followed gratefully by a hot gobbling mouth. It was her turn to almost drop the bottle.

They traded swigs and breast nuzzles until the beer was gone and their chests were sopping, the night breeze tightening everything. Nothing to do but close in a clinch, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, not bothering to come up for air. But Sandy did discover as her thigh found its way between Jennifer's, that she was not the only one who was getting very hot and humid down below. Was there any point in waiting? She wondered if the girl had ever had someone reach in who really knew what it was all about down there.

As the moon rose slowly Sandy let the girl know what it was like to feel the touch of a woman who could think like a man but know what enchants the body of a girl. Her seafarer's fingers slid down the smooth rounded belly and push between the tight elastic waistband and the pliant skin. If Jennifer found this unusual she didn't let on but continued to kiss Sandy with damp, smoldering kisses. The fingers found the thick triangle of curls and prowled their way south. It was getting hot down there. Sandy cupped her rough palm around the girl's entire sex, the tips of her fingers on the smooth patch between two openings. Slick. No need to moisten her fingers. Push. In. An easy slide between the damp lips.

To tease or not to tease?

Jennifer herself was answering that question. That lower mouth was hungry for Sandy's fingers, pushing down onto them. Jennifers right hand danced on the fabric of her shorts impatiently, stroking the back of Sandy's hand beneath the cloth. Tiny hungry moans. Jen's left hand finding the back of Sandy's neck; pulling her kiss in fierce; demanding that Sandy force her against the rail.

But this was no passive maiden. Sandy felt a warm hand on her own belly, pushing, stroking. The bikini shorts were nothing. The girl's fingers fumbled under the cloth; pushed rudely down Sandy's belly finding her swollen oversized clit, wet; squeezing it between thumb and fingers.

Sandy felt a jolt in her tongue and lips, her nipples, her gut and her vagina. She couldn't help crushing herself against that hand; so now, arms between them fencing for position, they went a little crazy.

Sandy shoved two fingers deep into the girl and was pleased to hear a deep growling moan.

But Jennifer wasn't just taking it. She was punishing Sandy's clit with her fingers, rubbing in circles, pinching and pulling.

Sandy wanted to be cool, in charge, but her pussy had other ideas. She crushed against Jen's hand, needing more, already obscenely wet.

"Oh god. jesus, girl, jesus. Oh please don't stop." Was she speaking out loud, or was this hungry voice just in her head? Didn't matter. She was gone. She was jelly. She was fucking that strong young hand for dear life. They were all tangled up and her own hand churned into the girl, maybe a bit too rough, but she couldn't help it; her lips gobbling Jen's ear, her hot neck.

It was coming, it was coming; blowing in like a hot wind straight across the water. Past the point where she could stop it; every touch of the girl's thumb stroking back and forth across her clit sending knots to her center; bucking against the hand.

"Ooohhhh jeez!" It hit her and the popping wouldn't stop, again and again and again, a wonderful pain in her belly, until that buzzing ache was out and her legs rubber. She draped over the girl as the shocks subsided and she came back into the world of salt air, sun warmed decking, and the otherworldly scent of Jennifer's hair.