Endless Days & White Knights Ch. 04

"I am impressed by your resilience, Ms. Monroe," Captain Lisoni told her. "I have other affairs to attend to at the moment, but perhaps you and I can discuss this further at dinner this evening."

And with that, Antonio ushered her off the bridge. On the deck, Caroline realized that the captain had rebuffed her and asked her on a date at the same time. She was impressed by the maneuver and also realized that men like the captain and Carver St. Pierre seemed to be step ahead of her. She needed to change that, she realized.

"Caroline," said Antonio as they walked in the sunshine, "if you are to dine with Captain Lisoni, may I suggest that you shower and freshen yourself?"

When was the last time she had showered, Caroline wondered. Monday morning? It was Wednesday. Goodness, she thought, is it that obvious?

As Antonio opened the door to her suite, he said, "Do not wash your hair. We have a salon."

Caroline showered in the suite's glass walled bathroom. She watched the sea as she soaped and rinsed her body. As she rinsed between her legs, she thought of the amount of sex she'd had recently -- and how the tingle down there let her know that she had not grown tired of it. I'm reaching my sexual peak at just the right time, she thought.

In the salon, Antonio leaned Caroline's head into a sink. He asked if the water temperature was okay (it was). And his strong hands went to work. He wet her hair and massaged in the shampoo and then the conditioner. He went on for more than an hour. Her hair smelled like a tropical fruit salad. And his scalp massage sent glorious shivers down her body. Her hands rested in her lap and she wondered how far her robe was open. When she crossed her legs, she could feel the robe slide up her thigh. Was Antonio noticing this, too? Caroline slowly opened her eyes, as his fingers worked their magic on her scalp.

Antonio's eyes were locked on hers. With a smile, he suggested a manicure and pedicure.

Caroline watched the sea roll by the starboard side of the yacht as she received her manicure. She was careful not to muss her perfect macaw blue fingernails as she sipped the mimosa that Antonio had provided. His hand massage reached up her forearms and past her elbows.

The hours past and she was on her third mimosa by the time he knelt at her feet.

He painted her toenails with gold. Her feet had never been so pampered. The lotions and oils delighted her. And then the foot massage made her melt into her chair. Her feet felt healed and alive. And she never knew her ankles needed that much attention. Her calves welcomed Antonio's magic grip. And then her knees opened when he began working them.

As his hands slid above her knees and his fingertips hinted that they were peaking under her robe, Caroline tightened her ass and gave her pelvis a slight thrust forward. She wanted Antonio to know that whatever he wanted to do -- whatever he wanted to do -- it was welcome.

His fingers worked deeps inside her thighs and then slid to the outside. "Perhaps a full body massage would please you, Caroline?" he asked.

"Yes," she panted, "that would please me greatly."

The massage table was ready outside the salon. It was in a private, shaded part of the deck and instead of the soft music of a spa, the relaxing waves splashed by. He patted the soft linen of the massage table and said, "Face down to start." As Caroline climbed onto the table, he suggested that she disrobe.

"Uh," Caroline was tempted but then said, "I think I'll keep it on."

Antonio seemed to have no opinion about her decision but simply smiled as he helped her get comfortable facing down on the table. He started by lightly rubbing her back -- on top of the robe. Her body relaxed into the table. He spent a long time on both arms and re-visited her hands. Caroline lost all sense of time when Antonio went back to work on her feet. Her soles. Her calves. High up the back of her thighs. She could tell his hands reached under her robe when she felt his fingertips graze her ass.

But then his hands traveled back down her thighs. He gripped her ankle and bent her at the knee. When he lifted her knee and rubbed the front of her thigh, she could feel the cool sea breeze blow up between her legs. Her pubic hairs tickled. With the one hand around her ankle, the other hand worked the front of her thigh. His fingers reached the front of her hip and teased her pubic area. Then he gently set her ankle down. And aroused her with the same front-of-the-thigh tease to the other leg. By the time his fingers reached within inches of her growing wetness, she found herself squeezing the linen into balls with both fists.

But then he moved to the foot of the table and started working the soles of her feet. And while this was very relaxing, she couldn't help but be disappointed by the shift in focus away from the hidden parts of her body.

Then, his strong hands glided up both calves -- over the backs of her knees. When his fingers slid under her robe, she could feel him climbing onto the table. His powerful legs easily opened hers as he worked his way higher.

She gave him access by spreading her legs wider. His knees pushed against the inside of her thighs, while his hands went to work further inside her robe. She could feel him massage her lower back and then slide his hands down and grip both of her cheeks. As he applied downward pressure, he drove her pubic bone into the massage table. The pleasure rippled down her legs and up her stomach. Her breasts ached as she moaned into the table. He tightened his grip on her cheeks and used this thumbs to open them. "Oh god," she grunted as he drove her pubic bone harder into the table.

Caroline lost track of how long he stayed behind her on the table. She could feel the orgasm building inside her, but he kept her on the edge and never pushed her over. She wanted his touch to go further, but he kept her wanting. She was panting when she heard him say, "Okay, Caroline, turn over."

She did -- with a slow eagerness that she hoped would send the right message. The message was, "Take me" but he simply smiled and moved to the head of the table. His fingertips massaged her scalp. Caroline could feel her robe was open -- that one breast was fully exposed and that Antonio could see all of one leg and most of her pubic hair. He rubbed her temples and traced her jawline. Caroline closed her eyes and wriggled her hips -- hoping that the robe would fall open even more.

His hands disappeared and she opened her eyes and saw him move to her side. When he took hold of her robe, she arched her back and prepared herself for him.

Instead of pulling her robe open, he closed and tied it shut. "Thank you, Caroline," he said. "Take your time in getting up."

By the time she managed to swing her legs from the table, he had produced a glass of ice water. She gulped it down. Her entire body ached and she was so horny, she wanted to tear Antonio's pants off and mount that massive bulge -- which had been between her legs and was now within arm's reach. She had never been teased so profoundly. She wondered what Antonio would do if she opened her robe and began touching herself. That's what she wanted. Her orgasm was so close. She handed him the empty water glass back, hoping he would take her wrist and pull her into him.

"Let me take you," he started ("Finally," she thought.), "to your dinner with Captain Lisoni."

And the massage was over. Caroline couldn't believe it. But Antonio helped her off the table and escorted her to the topmost deck of the yacht.

A table for two waited for her there. "The captain will be with you momentarily," Antonio said and left her. She watched his hard body walk away and felt the longing slip away from her.

Soft music played from unseen speakers. The table was set with the finest china and crystal -- like her breakfast table, but with a bottle of Chianti instead of orange juice. The sun was setting far to her left, as the yacht continued its journey to Aruba.

Captain Lisoni appeared on the deck. They were high above the rest of the yacht and were the only two people as far as the eye could see. "Ms. Monroe," he said in the weighty tone of a sea captain, "thank you for joining me for dinner."

"Please call me Caroline," she said and shook his hand.

He took her hand and kissed it. "And you must call me Giancarlo," he replied.

They sat facing each other. His handsome face and gray-flecked hair were framed by the sea and sky. He looked to be about fifty, but with a twinkle in his eye that made him seem younger. As he poured the Chianti for her (he drank only water, since he was on duty), she said, "Giancarlo, let me be direct. I know we are scheduled to arrive in Aruba in two days, but there is a meeting I must get to tomorrow. Is there anyway you can make that happen?"

He smiled. "I can see why they admire you so," he said.

"Who admires me so?"

"Mr. St. Pierre and his colleagues. You have, of course, realized that you were brought here to keep the information you have away from that meeting."

"Unfortunately, I realized it a little too late," she said -- fuming over her first sip of the red wine.

"Your intelligence, fire and frustration become you," he said. "They will serve you well. You remind me of... well, never mind... I am under orders to delay our arrival to Aruba until Friday."

"Who do I remind you of?" Caroline asked.

"She was..." he started, then paused. He drifted to a place only he could see. "She was Esmeralda. She was my true love."

Caroline waited. She could tell this wasn't the time to interrupt him. And then he continued, "We met at university. And fell in love there. We were to be married, but I had obligations to the navy. Esmeralda had your hair and the same fire you possess. We would go months without seeing one another and ached for each other when we were apart. Six months before I was to leave the navy, she flew to meet me when my ship was docked off the coast of Indonesia. Esmeralda was a passenger on a ferry -- coming to see me -- that capsized in a storm. The ocean took my only true love that day. I left the navy and never returned home. The ocean took my Esmeralda and yet I have stayed on the ocean for all these years."

His eyes moistened. Caroline reached across the table and took his hand. He stared at her, but Caroline felt as if he were seeing Esmeralda's face. Still holding hands, they stood and slow danced on top of the yacht. The music softly played around them as the Caribbean floated by. Giancarlo buried his face in her hair and wrapped his arms around her. She clutched him tightly and they swayed together. She could feel his strong back and as their legs rubbed together, she felt the aching tease that Antonio had left inside her start to build once again.

She lowered her hands from his shoulder blades to the small of his back. He followed suit. She slid her hands past his waistline and rested them there. He did the same to her. They held each other from behind. Caroline pulled him against her. She could feel the heat between his legs against her stomach. Her face rested against his chest and his face was still in her hair. She could hear his breathy groan as she raised a knee between his legs.

She grinded against him and her robe slid further open. Caroline felt a strong combination of wanting him and wanting something from him. While their bodies were still clutched together, she reached between them and found his inner thigh. He groaned again. And as she slid her hand higher, she felt how hard he had grown. He lifted her robe from behind and caressed her bare skin.

Caroline stroked him outside his crisp white uniform and then slowly unzipped his pants. She reached inside and tightened her fingers around him. When she pulled him free of his pants, he pulsed under her grip. As she pumped him -- up and down, harder and more fiercely -- he groaned with pleasure. With her free hand, she took his and put it between her legs. His fingers found her wetness and began rubbing her. After the buildup with Antonio, she was ready to explode within seconds.

"Yes," she moaned. As her body convulsed with an explosive passion that surprised even her, she gripped and stoked him more tightly. Her orgasm excited him past the point of no return and he erupted in her grip. As he orgasmed, she used the warm lubrication to pump him with longer and harder stokes. Finally he quivered and let out a final moan. They both breathed heavily and held each other as they continued to sway together on the yacht's highest deck.

He kept his face in her hair. And Caroline could feel his warm tears fall upon her neck.

That night, alone in her suite, Caroline remembered the soft kiss Giancarlo place on her cheek before we walked off the deck. They didn't speak again. And she fell asleep not knowing if he had even realized that he had been dancing with her and not Esmeralda.

The next morning, Caroline awoke to find her clothes hanging -- cleaned and pressed -- in her suite. She changed into them and Antonio led her to the gangway.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Caroline," he said as he ushered her off the yacht.

On the dock in Aruba -- one day early, as Caroline had requested -- Caroline took a last look at the yacht. Through the bridge's window, she could see Giancarlo smiling at her. He gave her a final nod and she turned to face what Aruba would bring.

She walked into a shopping district a block from where she disembarked the Cesarine. She was in Aruba -- in time for the meeting -- but had no idea where to go or what to do. She stood at an intersection outside a jewelry store that catered to tourists. The heat and humidity descended upon her.

A black SUV stopped inches from her and Caroline had to step back to avoid the passenger's side view mirror. The driver -- in a beige linen suit -- hopped out. Caroline expected an apology, but instead he opened the back door for her.

Inside, Elizabeth Racine patted the seat next to her and said, "You're right on time, Caroline. Welcome to Aruba."

More coming...