Offshore Drilling

Offshore Drilling

Dolphins are supposed to be playful, Helen thought to herself. Then, bitterly, she acknowledged that the bastards had been playing. Their actions had not been friendly, but they had certainly been playful. They had pushed her rubber raft several miles offshore, then tipped it over, throwing her into the water. Quite a game.

This is what she deserved, she supposed, for pausing in her journey. The school year had been a dreadful one. Her principal was an ambitious prick. Her students had seemed particularly dense. And her boyfriend had cheated on her. She was on her way to join her sister in a cabin they'd rented for the summer, but she'd stopped to unpack her raft, inflate it, and just float in the ocean for an hour or four. Well, she had certainly achieved her goal.

She was wearing her life jacket, and the overturned raft was bright yellow. It was only a matter of time before somebody saw her and came to her rescue. In the meantime, the floating had become both tedious and terrifying. She had lost her grip on the slippery raft, which was unnerving, but she stayed close.

Finally, she heard it. A motor. Somebody was coming for her. "Hang on!" a voice called. "I'll be right there!" It was the sweetest sound she'd ever heard.

There was a splash as somebody entered the water. A man swam up next to her, wearing his own life vest. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Damsel in distress," she said. "In need of rescuing."

"Hot damn!" the man exclaimed. "Damsels in distress are my specialty."

"This is quite your lucky day, then," Helen observed.

"You bet it is. Here. I brought you a snorkel."

"Just get me out of the water," she said. "I don't need a snorkel."

"I think your vest is deflating," he said. "Put on the snorkel while I re-inflate you. You may not need it, but your face may dip beneath the water before I get this done."

Fighting panic, Helen put on the snorkel. The man swam behind her and took hold of her vest. He fiddled with the straps as she tried to relax.

"Huh," he said. "I was wrong. Your vest is fine. It's your bikini top that's loose."

Helen gasped as he untied the knot. Her hands went to her chest, but the water slowed her movements. Her bikini was in his hand.

"Listen, fucker!" she yelled, spitting out the snorkel. Helen tried to turn to face him, but his hands were on her hips, keeping her in place.

"Oops," he said, pulling the side ties. "There go the bottoms." Except for the life vest and the snorkel, Helen was naked.

"You son of a bitch!"

"What's this rescue worth to you?" he asked. "I can go away if you prefer. But it might be awhile before anybody else finds you. Night's coming on. Do you want me to rescue you or will you wait?"

Helen thought about it. There was only one answer. "I want the rescue."

"What's it worth?"

"What do you want? A blowjob?"

"You ever been fucked in the Pacific?" he asked.

"Fine," she said. "Get me on your boat and you can fuck me."

"Nothing wrong with right here," he countered.

"Here? It's not possible."

"Sure it is. You've got a vest. You get to be the flotation device. Put the snorkel in your mouth."

Skeptically, she did as he said, and allowed him to adjust its position, so it stuck out straight behind her head. Beneath the water, he removed his swim trunks.

"I hate to lose these," he said. "But I guess it's only fair." He let them go and watched them sink.

"My name's Eric, by the way," he introduced himself. He moved up behind her. "Lean forward. Look into the water."

Helen obeyed. The sun was nearly down and the water was dark. She couldn't see a thing down there. Suddenly, Eric jumped on her back, forcing her face first into the water. The vest kept her from sinking, but with both their weights, it could not keep Helen above the surface.

She nearly panicked when the water closed over her head, but the snorkel enabled her to breathe normally, so she calmed down. Much more alarming was the feel of Eric's cock probing between her legs.

Helen had once read that in many women, the vagina lubricates in response to fear. It seemed to be an evolutionary defense, protecting a woman from injury during rape. The book had irritated Helen, implying that rape was so natural and normal that a woman's own body expected it.

Offensive or not, she now had reason to be grateful to that traitorous female physiology as Eric's cock found its target and slid easily home.

Submerged and suspended in the deep, dark water, Helen could see nothing and hear very little. Her world was reduced to the salty, rubbery taste of the sea air coming through the snorkel, the weight of the heavy male body forcing her beneath the ocean's surface, and the penis sinking into her own deep places.

The air was cool and the water cold, but the cock inside her was hot. Right now, it was her only source of heat and she gratefully welcomed its presence. To Helen's very great surprise, she was actually nearing orgasm.

Suddenly, the water was full of bubbles and Helen was sinking. Eric's cock slipped out of her as she started descending into the deep. Her vest was deflating for real. She struggled back to the surface and took a deep breath.

Scared, but incredibly turned on, she clung to Eric's shoulders. His hard cock was jutting out, poking at her, tempting her to do something really, really stupid.

"Let's get you to the boat," he said. "Take that vest off. It's got a major leak. We can't re-inflate and it's just dead weight now."

Helen obeyed, letting the life vest sink. "No boat," she said. "Not yet."

"What? It's not safe out here any more."

Helen gave in to temptation, choosing stupid, and cock, over safety. She took off the snorkel and dropped even that into the greedy ocean, leaving her completely naked, and utterly vulnerable, miles from land, in the Pacific.

"Finish it," she begged. "Finish me. I'm so close."

"We can finish on the boat," he suggested.

"No. Right here. Now. Fuck me."

Helen wrapped her legs around his waist. His throbbing cock pressed up against her pussy, eager to continue. It was a creature totally without conscience, unconcerned that she might drown. Eric gave in to the demands of Helen and his own dick.

He fucked her missionary this time, pushing into her as she clung to him. He was still on top of her. And Helen was still underwater as he fucked her. But now he was the flotation device. No longer held down under the surface by his heavy weight, she now dangled beneath him, holding on for dear life.

This time, she was face up. She could see a few faint stars in the sky as the sunlight faded. It was a more pleasant view to stare at as she felt him moving in and out of her.

His lips were moving, she noticed. He was counting strokes, she realized, and she was grateful, but she was too lost in sensation to even follow along. He fucked her for maybe seven strokes, maybe ten, maybe fifteen. Then he'd sop and pull her up so she could breathe. A few short gasps, she suspected he was counting those too, then he'd put her back under the water and resume fucking.

Helen was holding her breath, starved for oxygen, when she came. She was barely even conscious as the ecstasy hit. It was like a dream, an orgasm, and an out-of-body experience all rolled together. It wasn't her whole life that flashed before her eyes, though, just the x-rated parts. Her college boyfriend, taking her virginity in the backseat of his car. Her roommate, eager to explore her lesbian fantasies. Fucking her boss, in his office, with his daughters waiting just outside the door, expecting to take him to lunch. And then the light at the end of the tunnel proved to be yet another rollicking orgasm. The Universe exploded, sending her to Heaven, then went dark.

When she came back to herself, she was still wrapped around him, panting and whimpering. His cock was still buried within her, but they were upright now, two heads bobbing in the ocean. Eric was breathing as hard as she was. Clearly, he'd had his own climax. She'd been unaware of it at the time, but she was happy to accommodate him. Somewhere inside her, millions of tiny sperm were searching for an egg to fertilize. They were welcome to try. It was the wrong time of the month, but she was perfectly willing to play hostess. With the incredible orgasm he'd just given her, Eric had paid the price of their admittance.

He pulled her through the water to his motorboat and boosted her up and aboard. Helen lay on the bottom and dozed as Eric found the raft and attached a tow line before climbing into the boat himself.

He steered them to a luxury sailboat and got Helen to board. The motorboat was quickly mounted at the stern. The raft was pulled in and draped over the bow.

Eric had her several more times over the course of the night and the next day. He fucked her in the comfortable bed of the captain's cabin. He bent her over the railing and took her from behind as she looked down at the ocean. He fucked her on a table as she gorged herself on granola bars and fruit.

Helen had no objection to his use of her, though she thought it might have been polite of him to at least ask before he took. But he never asked and she never refused.

She had several very fine orgasms each time she found him in her pussy. But none of them compared to the desperate, dangerous, freewater fuck of their first encounter. It was a lethargic, euphoric acceptance rather than true desire. The aftermath of that first orgasm would likely last for several days. There was no possible way he could top it. Until he did.

Eric left her alone for two days. She knew he wanted her. He was clearly arouse.

And she would have willingly acquiesced, though actually inviting him was a greater effort than she was capable of. But he kept his distance.

He also kept her naked. There were women's clothes in the closet of the captain's cabin, but Eric did not offer her the use of them. And she might have refused if he had offered. Helen assumed they belonged to a wife or girlfriend, neither of which would approve of Helen's borrowing their things. She was borrowing the woman's husband.

That was bad enough. Wearing the woman's clothes would be arrogant.

Eric started wearing a pair of shorts, possibly to hide the erection he got every time he looked at her, but all he gave Helen to wear were a pair of sunglasses and a bottle of sunscreen.

Helen had never been one for casual nudity, but this was some kind of fantasy adventure. The rules of her world, even those she applied only to herself, were suspended. Clearly, Eric had a significant other, and under normal circumstances, Helen wouldn't give him the time of day, much less give him all the pussy he wanted. But she was under his work, and would deny him nothing.

On the fourth day, he invited her to go scuba driving. She eagerly agreed. Helen loved scuba diving, and Eric knew of an interesting shipwreck close by.

He got her rigged up with tank, mask, and dive watch, but just before they went in the water, Eric demanded a blowjob. Surprised, but willing and excited, Helen knelt on the deck and took his cock in her mouth.

She rarely gave blowjobs, and never let a guy come in her mouth, but No was not a part of this adventure and Helen would not end it prematurely. She was looking forward to swallowing.

But Eric surprised her yet again. As he got close, he pulled free of her suckling lips and blew a heavy load of semen all over Helen's face. She laughed as the thick, pearly goo splattered her cheeks, nose and forehead. She moved to wipe it away, but he smiled and shook his head. He fixed her dive mask to her face, sealing his sperm inside. Then they went in the water.

The smell of his spunk was strong. And the feel of it on her skin was a powerful distraction. It was one of the most erotic sensations of her life. When she squinted, she could even see cum in her left eyelash. Diving would never be the same after this.

The shipwreck was a Spanish-style galleon in excellent condition. It was historically insignificant as it had been built in 2010 by an American sailing club and sunk in 2013 by a storm. But it was gorgeous.

Eric guided her to the top of the mast and gestured for her to take hold. As she clung to the crossbeam, Eric took hold of her hips and entered her from behind. With cum coating her face, a cock filling her cunt, and just a few bits of metal, plastic, and rubber keeping her alive deep underwater, Helen was in rapture. She looked down at the ship beneath her, and up at the sailboat above her. She felt the squeeze of the ocean's embrace and shuddered through orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He fucked her for an eternity, a slow-motion underwater drilling that dragged her back and forth over the edge of ecstasy. She gripped the mast so hard, she was sure she'd have splinters. But she couldn't bring herself to care. There was nothing but the ocean and the cock and the countless climaxes.

Five days after the dolphins overturned her raft, Helen made it back to land. She was naked as the day she was born, but the beach she'd launched from was secluded. Her SUV was still there, and her suitcases in the back seat. There were two months left of her summer vacation before she was due to go back to teaching algebra to dozing high schoolers. Her sister would be anxiously awaiting her at the rental cottage.

Once she was dressed, she checked her phone and found 37 calls from her sister. She dressed in fresh clothes, deflated the boat, and loaded it up. It was high time she resumed her vacation, but she would never regret her week at sea. Helen made a mental note to buy a new bikini, then got back on the road.