Crossings Ch. 06

6. Journeys

I woke prone in the v-berth cabin, in the bed Callie and I made together yesterday, Callie lying on her side next to me, one of her hands on my back, breathing deep and slow, her long lustrous wavy hair spread on both sides of her, soft and flowing, but it seemed like mostly on me. It smelled wonderful and she was so beautiful, it was like waking from a good dream to a better one. I couldn't remember anything of last night beyond when I adored her underwater, even after spending a couple minutes trying (not) to. It was like something dim in peripheral vision, something I could just perceive the outline of if I didn't look directly -- focusing just made it go away. And there was also something that told me I didn't need to remember right now, that everything would be fine if I just let it unfold in its own time. But it was clear that Callie had established something more like control over my body and mind than I would've thought possible. I remember how Mari and Sati tried ... I hadn't really trusted either of them but I did trust Callie, the love of my life. I let it go and rolled out of bed, found a swimsuit, walked through the cabin and the galley, where Mariano was chopping vegetables. He seemed a little surprised -- and relieved -- to see me.

"Can I help?" I asked.

"No, I'll do breakfast," he said, and I nodded. It was early morning, maybe 6:45 AM, as cool out as it would be today. There was A/C on low in the v-berth so it was cooler than it might've been otherwise, but here in the saloon there were only a couple small fans.

"Callie wants to eat at 7:15," Mariano said as I started up the companionway.

Topside, the deck and rails and furled sails were slick with dew, an evaporative haze all around, the water dead flat, a few fish breaking the surface the only motion or sound. I hurdled the transom and went deep.

"... we find [the study of physical phenomena's] noblest and most important result to be a knowledge of the chain of connection, by which all natural forces are linked together, and made mutually dependent upon each other; and it is the perception of these relations that exalts our views and ennobles our enjoyments."
-Alexander von Humboldt

I swam. Hard and long. Maybe a kilometer and then back again, feeling like I could've gone harder, but I was enjoying the mindless repetitive exertion while my brain looped and spun. I was barely breathing hard.

"It is a strange thing that most of the feeling we call religious, most of the mystical outcrying, which is one of the prized and used and desired reactions of our species, is really the understanding and the attempt to say that man is related to the whole thing, related inextricably to all reality, known and unknowable. ... all things are one thing and that one thing is all things -- plankton, a shimmering phosphorescence on the sea and the spinning planets and an expanding universe, all bound together by the elastic string of time."
-John Steinbeck & Ed Ricketts

I practically flew out of the water onto the swim platform -- I did *not* want to be late. I jumped into the shower to rinse off, but for some reason I kept tasting salt. I realized I was trembling. I was at the table by exactly 7:14.

"You're late, my love," Callie said as she emerged from our cabin. I knew I wasn't but I hung my head, feeling overwhelmed, almost hopeless, and as I did I realized the reason I kept tasting salt: I was streaming tears.

"I'm sorry," I said. Callie saw my tears, came close and took me in her arms, a gentle, loving embrace.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into my ear, caressed tears from my cheek. "I love you. I'm so pleased with you, so proud of you." Then she kissed me, gently, on the lips. "Let's eat breakfast," she whispered, her warm breath on me.

"There's so much I don't understand," I said. "Something's happening to me, there are so many gaps in my memory, it's like something inside me is changing, more than one thing, things I want to understand, but ... I can't. Am I the only one?"

Get me to the point where the truth will unfold
I wanna know

"You started down a new path yesterday," she said. "You need to let it happen, let that new path join the one you're already on, become the rare, precious, truly gifted man you're meant to be." She smiled. "Now be quiet ... I'm hungry."

Mariano made tacos and huevos rancheros with another half-filet of last night's wahoo, and between those and the chilaquile fixins he'd bought yesterday, we had another wonderful meal together, Callie sitting close enough that her firm strong silky legs were in near-constant contact with mine. Then she and Mariano did dishes below while I remained topside. We were in the island's lee so I motored us half a kilometer away and unfurled the sails. Winds were light at this hour so progress would be slow, but I much preferred sails to the engine and I figured the wind would pick up. The day was turning much less humid than yesterday, the wind shifting to north-northeast, off the desert, almost opposite yesterday's. Callie joined me after about 20 minutes, put her arm around my waist and her head on my shoulder and we silently gazed over the ultramarine sea together. I turned into her and she pressed herself to me, kissed me deep, put her hands behind my neck. The wind was picking up nicely, and between that and our beam reach, our return would be quicker than yesterday's journey out.

"the climate felt quite delicious, the atmosphere so dry and the heavens so clear and blue with the sun shining brightly, that all nature seemed sparkling with life."
-Charles Darwin

"I want what you want," I said.

"You need to let yourself take control," she said.

"I love it when you control me," I said, surprising myself -- I don't know where the words came from.

"You're supposed to, you are under my power," she said. "But you need to grow past that. It's time." My cheeks were wet again ... something between us was changing, a realization that made me very sad.

"You're the one I want," I said.

"Come get me," she said. "Your way this time, not mine. Sweep me off my feet, I've always wanted that from you." She placed one of my hands on her lower back where it flowed into the upper slope of her fabulous bottom, took the other in one of hers, began swaying against me, moving her feet, slow dancing. She sighed. She was wearing her bikini and thin white blouse knotted at her waist and the extravagantly impractical barely-there 4-inch heels she'd gotten from Morgan, her nearness and bounteous presence overwhelming, intoxicating, captivating me, fixating me, her ears and thin sharp nose, smooth oval chin and light freckling, her beautiful warm hazel-green eyes, the fine hairs on her arms and the nape of her long slender neck, her scent, the feel and close experience of her a deep emotional journey for me. She was sighing in pleasure at the way my strong arms and taut-muscled chest enfolded her, held her close as if protecting her, as if I might lose her, as if I might subordinate her if that's what she wanted, if that's what it would take to keep her. I was getting really hard in a way she couldn't miss. Mariano emerged from the companionway.

"Your watch," I said to him, and he took the wheel.

"Let's go down," I whispered into Callie's ear, still holding her close, then pulled away, my arm around her waist, and walked her there, closed the door to our cabin behind us, and took her in my arms.

"Lie down on the floor, honey," she told me. "I want to show you something."

I lay down on my back and she stepped over me. I was staring up her long smooth legs past her heels to her bikini bottom, to her prominent beasts standing out so proudly, to her lovely face peering down from above them. She bent over and stretched her arms down to those heels, her long fingers and nails tracing gently over her ankles, her feet, held a pose there for a few seconds, smiling. Then those long fingers moved between her feet to my chin, my cheeks, my forehead, my shoulders, tracing so lightly. She removed the white blouse, dropped it onto the bed.

"Be still, let your body react however it will, I want to be your fantasy girl, the girl of your dreams," she said. "I want to make all your dreams come true, even those you haven't dreamed yet. I want you to take me when you're ready, just how you most want to, which is how I'll love it most." Then she bent lower at the waist and then at the knees until her warm breasts touched my chin.

"Take my top off," she told me, and I reached to loose her bikini top, my face in her cleavage, and as it came loose I went deeper, the soft warm pressure of her breasts against my eyes, nose, chin, mouth, so there was nothing to see or smell or feel but her. I licked one and she moved a nipple to my mouth.

"Mmmmmmmm," she said as she moved and I could see again, "I like that."

Her nipple receded, not because she was moving away but because her breasts were shrinking, though still quite a bit more full than when I first knew her.

"Watch," she said, and as I complied her nails and lips lightened from burgundy to red to something closer to pink, her hair shorter but still waist-length and wavy, her nails as they rested on my shoulders less sharp but just as long.

"You taught me how to do this," she said. "I did it for you, but we both knew it wouldn't be forever, it's just not who I am ... now gaze at my legs, so long, so strong, so smooth ... I know how much you like them."

Callie's wonderful legs seemed even longer now with Morgan's heels on, more muscular than before, but as I watched, appreciating their shapely sculpted curves, I saw some of that muscle melt away but not much -- she hadn't ever become sharply cut like a bodybuilder the way Mari had. I was extremely aroused, of course. She reached down and caressed my erection through my swim trunks, which I felt change until they'd become a skimpy lycra suit, my erection pushing hard against it, pushing out from beneath it, her touch making that erection jump. Then one of her feet stepped back between my legs and I felt the point of her toe slip under my balls, lifting them, caressing them from underneath. She slipped her thumbs into her bikini bottom, on either side of her hips, began sliding it down and bent her knees further, lowering herself toward me until it reached my nose.

"Smell me," she said. "Seeing you like this, so turned on by me, I am so turned on by you."

I took her bikini bottom between my teeth. It was warm and damp, not from water, smelling and tasting of her. She smiled and rose, letting my teeth pull her bikini bottom further down her beautiful legs until it dropped and she stepped out of it. I put it aside, let my hand caress her ankle, climb her shapely calf, behind her knee, gently brush over her thigh, come around to squeeze her strong quad. Then I went to one elbow, reached my hand higher, brushed my fingertips up her leg to her sex, teasing so gently. She shivered, her eyes half closing.

"You're already my fantasy, you know that?" she said. "You're everything I ever wanted, everything I've ever dreamed, you taught me to love with all my heart, you make me so happy. I want to make you as happy as I am, but I also want you to be even better. Maybe I'm funny that way, but you'd better learn to live with it. Or else, you know?" She smiled.

My hands were on her fabulous bottom, pulling her closer, and then my mouth was between her legs and I was rising higher, lifting her from the top of those gorgeous legs and her spectacular ass. She squeezed those beautiful legs around my neck as I lowered her to the bed, placed her there gently, climbed higher on her so I could reach her hands, placed her thumbs inside my scant swimsuit and let her do the rest. She lowered it, peeling it down my cord-muscled legs, freeing my throbbing cock, then took me in her hands, one thumb wrapped around my base with her long fingers and nails teasing between my legs and her other around my shaft, gliding slowly up and down, placing thumb on frenulum and rotating it, letting those long nails do her magic, so gently.

"That feels so good," I said. "I don't want you to stop, but ..." I slid down, far enough that she would've had to sit up to keep her hand on me, put my arms and then my shoulders under her knees, lifted her legs high, and slid incredible hardness into incredible wet warmth. I smiled.

"Fuck me like an animal," I said, and her eyes opened, confused. My smile widened and she squeezed me inside, wrapped her long beautiful legs around me, those high heels still on, and found a rhythm, squeezing, sliding me in and out, mashing herself into me while I stayed still, looking deep into her eyes. I descended slowly, my eyes closing in on hers while she pumped against me, growing more lubricated by the moment, practically gushing around me, her breath coming faster as her motion sped up, heels clattering together, her eyes so deep in mine, fighting to stay fully open as mine came closer, so deep in hers.

"Come when our lips touch," I told her, "harder every time I pump into you." She nodded, her expression almost desperate, then reached her hands behind my neck and pulled herself to me, planting her lips on mine and groaning, a primal guttural elemental song that she ran out of breath for, and then when she had breath for it, a kind of wail. I slid myself farther in and the pitch of her wail rose. She rotated her hips, mashing herself against my balls the way she loves, the way I love, her eyes fighting harder to stay open, to stay in mine, my lips on hers hard, hungry, questing as my own climax neared. Sliding out and then in again, her finding a movement to mesh with mine, squeezing me with her legs and inside, pulsing around me, out and in, rotating hips and squeezing and pulsing, both of us kissing so deep that it was like we were a single body reaching for a single satisfaction, her hands reaching further down my back, squeezing me tighter, her long but no longer sharp nails digging in until she threw her head back and gasped at the moment of my release, letting go to sensation, coming even harder with me.

"the pattern goes everywhere and is everything and cannot be encompassed by finite mind or by anything short of life -- which it is. ... Any investigation [of the psychic or spiritual residua remaining after the most careful physical analysis, or the physical remnants obvious] ... will run into the brick wall of the impossibility of perfection while at the same time insisting on the validity of perfection."
-John Steinbeck & Ed Ricketts

I lowered myself far enough to let some of my weight rest on her, a full-body press, our eyes still deep in each other's, my lips playing on hers, her legs unwinding from around me. Our breaths slowing, me still inside, slowly dwindling.

"I want this, all of this," she whispered. I stretched one of her arms over her head, then lay down next to her where it'd been, my arm under her neck and around her, keeping us close. Her fingertips and the tips of her nails played softly on my face until I kissed her again, sharing warmth and gratitude for her.

"I can't believe how much I love you," I said in between gentle kisses. "You were already my every fantasy made real but you keep surprising me ... you are so much more."

"We have a little time," she said. "Let's just hold each other, it's so nice with you, I need to enjoy this feeling of being with just you ..."

"While I can" was the unsaid end to her sentence. I wasn't sure if that was something I needed to be concerned about, but I certainly agreed with everything else she'd just said. Her fingers still gently playing on my face, cheeks, and forehead were making me drowsy.

"Sleep, my love," she said, her voice soft and loving, and I did.

Half an hour later was time enough ... we would be returning to the house soon and needed to pack -- we still had a day of driving ahead. I extricated myself from Callie's wonderful embrace, kissed her softly one more time, wiped myself off, donned that tiny lycra swimsuit for Callie to see and put her hand on my hip over it, smiling, then transformed it back into the swim trunks it'd once been and went topside. We were getting close.

"Nicely done," I said to Mariano, and he made as if to hand over the wheel.

"You can do this," I said. "I'll be here to advise, but it's not difficult. As we get closer we'll furl the sails and start the engine, then come in slow and reverse engines a few seconds before we dock. If you do it right you can make it look easy. I can tie us up. Callie can help if she's ready by then. I'll be right back."

Callie was in the shower, singing:

Sometimes my tries are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes
But I can't live that way

I smiled, brushed my teeth, used the head, and collected my few things.

"I'm packed," I said to Callie, who was still in the shower. She opened the curtain, letting me glimpse her wonderful lithe wet soapy body. She noticed my gaze wandering and stuck her chest out, grinning playfully.

"Shower," she said then, narrowing her eyes, but I could tell it wasn't serious. "I'm not getting in the car with you unless you clean up."

"I'll shower in the house," I said. "Right now I have to help Mariano dock. We could use your help if you're ready by then." She made a fake-angry face but closed the curtain. I went topside again. We were maybe 10 minutes away.

"How long will it take you to pack?" I asked Mariano.

"Less than 5 minutes," he said. "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"You'll do fine, Mariano ... you're getting really good. Pack up and bring your stuff." He went below and emerged maybe 3 minutes later. I gave him the wheel and directed him to furl the sails and start the engine. Callie came up with her packed bag 2 minutes later, no heels on this time, saw what I was having Mariano do, and broke out in one of those smiles that lit up her entire face. It made me want to do anything she wanted as long as I could see that smile again.

"You're a good teacher, you know that?" she said, leaned into me and kissed me.

I was actually a bit nervous ... a lot could go wrong. I've done this before, even with only sails, both perfectly and not, but never in a boat anywhere near this big, and honestly there was no one here I needed to impress.

Speaking of that, we were close enough now to see that the gate from the dock to the house was open, a small woman standing there. Great, an audience. Callie saw, reached down to her bag, carefully extracted the feathers I'd bought for her yesterday from the cloth I'd wrapped them in, and asked me to put them into her still-damp hair, just where I thought they would look best. She smelled of soap: floral, wonderful, heavenly.

"You know her?" I asked.

"She owns the house. You'll probably recognize her, and I think she'll like seeing these. They really are beautiful." She leaned in and kissed me again, closer and deeper this time. I complied, then put on a T-shirt.

'This little trip of ours was becoming a thing and a dual thing, with learning and playing and eating and sleeping merging with thinking and speculation. Quality of sunlight, blueness and smoothness of water, boat engines and sails and ourselves were all parts of a larger whole and we could begin to feel its nature but not its size.'
-John Steinbeck

Callie and I lowered fenders. Mariano's approach was flawless, I barely had to say a word. He didn't have a feel for how strongly to reverse but gave himself extra room, reversed harder when his first attempt wasn't enough, and glided the boat safely to a halt exactly where he should have. Callie and I jumped onto the dock with our bags and a line before he'd fully stopped, she tied up at the bow and Mariano tossed another to me at the stern. He was grinning. I jumped back aboard.