Taking

I was right. This is an adventure. She's enjoying it and no longer seems bothered, or indeed reluctant, about being fucked.

'And if I ignore tradition?'

'You could always take me with you. Make me your girl, your gangster's moll. A sort of Bonny and Clyde.'

And it seems she means it. Which was the last thing I had expected from an apparently intelligent girl. Yet why shouldn't I? I like them young and well stacked - which she is - very well stacked - and my plans mean a solitary existence for a while. She's feisty and will make a good companion. Keep me on my toes until I get to the south seas and find me the dusky maid I've been waiting to try. It's a romantic dream really - the dusky maid - better to be certain and take my own pussy. A bird in the hand and all that jazz.

'You realize what you're suggesting?' I have to try and dissuade her, or at least ensure she's serious, for my own protection as much as her's since it could all go wrong. 'You'll be giving up all the advantages you have at present. You could be ruining your life.'

'I know, I know. That's what my parents keep telling me every time I want to do something different. They don't seem to understand how deadly boring it is - study, take exams, go to college, get a well paid job, get married, have kids. Whatever happened to living?'

'Very well, provided you understand that you won't be able to change your mind - once we're on our way there will be no return,' I say. 'Also I'll be in charge - you do whatever I decide. And, like a good moll, you do your best to be a satisfactory mistress.'

The last stops her for a moment then she laughs. 'It seems you were right. You are going to be the guy to pop my cherry.'

Half-a-mile or so up the road I turn into the partially concealed track for which I had been aiming, and stop by an overgrown gate well out of sight of the highway. 'Hold still while I collect our next means of transport,' I instruct Penny. She looks at me, mystified.

Hoping over the gate I brush away the leaves on the far side of the hedge. Yes, they're still where I had hidden them the day before. I hoist the two canvas containers into the car, reverse out and drive back onto the main road.

Penny's quiet as we sedately motor another five miles to where the road dips down to the shore line, giving access to a small, sandy beach. 'Time to get your feet wet,' I say. Now she's really bewildered.

I drive onto a small patch of grass between the road and the sand and switch off the engine. Leaving the keys in the ignition - hopefully someone will steal the car, though the chance is remote out here - I collect the two containers and lug them to the edge of the water. I open the first, pull the cord and - bingo - one rigidly inflated boat. Unwrap the other, mount the small outboard engine and my - our - getaway vehicle is complete.

Loading the two bags of loot I push off into the sea. 'Permission granted to come aboard,' I call. Penny clambers into the RIB and we're away along the coast.

In places the cliffs rear above us, in others the ground gently slopes to water. Deeply indented with inlets and coves we soon lose sight of the car. We've not got far to go, just long enough to break the trail. We round a small promontory into a secluded cove, inaccessible from the shore, where a medium sized yacht rides at anchor.

'There you are,' I say, pointing to the yacht, 'home for the next few months.'

We climb aboard. 'Are you a sailor?' I ask.

'A couple of times in a friend's dinghy when we were on holiday in the Bahamas, that's all.'

'That's more or less how I started. Went on a package holiday with a mate and a couple of girls and tried cruising around the Greek islands. They didn't like it. Just wanted to swim, sunbathe and shag, but I was hooked. Made it my hobby.'

'Won't the police know about it and think to check?'

'Doubt it. I made it a secret hobby. Kept it from my friends and always sailed under another name. Bought this boat through a proxy account in my second name. And even if they do strike lucky, then we'll be well away into international waters.'

I stow the bags of loot on the double berth in the forepeak. 'Right let's get the sails up. You can hold the wheel. Keep it amidships for now while I handle the sheets.'

Although beginning to die there is still enough of the early morning off-shore breeze to carry us straight out to sea. An hour later and it has failed leaving us to gently drift. But it is enough, we are outside the territorial limit and can turn our attention to settling in and having a simple meal of the sandwiches and coffee Penny and Hank had prepared.

'What's the plan?' Penny wants to know.

'Well, I'd provisioned the boat so that I could sail south to at least the Cape of Good Hope before I needed to venture ashore. But now there are two of us we may need to find some quiet little fishing village along the way to restock. And somehow we need to organize a passport for you. You can amuse yourself dreaming up a new name.'

'How on earth will you do that?'

'I've got what it needs - a new, untraceable, pay-as-you-go mobile; access to e-mail; money in a secure account; and a contact. The problem may be collecting it. We'll deal with that when the time comes. Possibly pick a time when I'm laundering some of the loot.'

She seems satisfied, so I spend half-an-hour on a few of the more basic elements of sailing. There will be plenty of time over the coming weeks to fully educate her in this - as well as more agreeably personal activities.

Come early afternoon and we are still becalmed, the sails hanging uselessly from the mast. Penny has dragged a blanket from one of the berths, spread it across the top of the cabin and is sunbathing.

It's deflowering time. Time to discover how much fun I'm going to have over the coming weeks.

Lashing the wheel I go below and break out a bottle of the sunblock I'd had the foresight to pack. Joining Penny on the blanket I shed my shirt and start to oil myself.

'You want some of this?' I ask her.

She looks up. 'Sure.'

'Lose the top and I'll do your back.'

She shucks off the thick sweater and lays, naked, on her front. I take my time anointing her smooth flesh. Pouring some oil in my hands I massage it up those long slender legs; across the cheeks of her arse which wobble enticingly under my palms; past her slim waist to her broad back. When I reach her shoulders I turn her face up.

A little more oil then I'm gently rubbing her chest. She sighs so I caress it into the firm flesh of her breasts then down to her stomach and finally, delicately, into her mound.

Pausing, my eyes devour the perfection of her as she lays with her thighs slightly parted to bask in the warmth of the sun on thick nether lips pouting below her squirrel red pubic hair. Her plump, large nippled breasts are nigh on faultless - my cock is rock hard.

One eye opens. 'Why have you stopped.'

'To admire you. To thank the gods for granting me a woman as young and beautiful as you.'

She smiles and reaches up to lightly touch the bulge in my shorts. 'I sense something in there struggling to get out.'

'Are you sure you're ready to make its acquaintance and surrender to its power.'

'If that is to be my fate, the virgin sacrifice cried.'

Laughing, I yank on the zip of my shorts, thrusting the material down to my ankles, my cock springs out anxious to enter the first hole on offer. Bending forward I cup her firm tits, weighing and kneading them, thumbs roughly stroking hard, erect nipples - they are as soft and warm and welcoming as they look. I grip the left bud hard, rolling it in strong fingers while my mouth finds and greedily suckles on the other.

She gasps with pleasure, writhing and clamping her thighs together to contain the ache of desire flowing to her virgin centre, moans softly and, winding her fingers in my hair arches her back.

I flick my thumb again and again across her pointed nipple, run it round and round her broad halo; lift my mouth to her's and thrust my tongue between her lips; force my hand between her legs and spread her.

Her eyes are tightly shut, she is panting and sighing, her tits are heaving as I position the tip of my cock at her entrance. I stroke the inside of her thighs with one finger then slide it knuckle deep into her damp, tight hole, pull out gently, find her clit and rub it hard.

'And is the virgin ready for sacrificing to the great god Dionysus,' I ask, 'Ready to be made a woman?'

She takes a deep breath, 'This wretch submits to her pitiable fate.'

With both hands on her firm arse I squeeze her ripe flesh. She takes a deep breath and groans as I steady myself and let my cock sink slowly into her wet, and silky embrace. Three or four times I slide firmly in and out of her tightness, enjoying the wonder to be found in her young flesh. She opens her eyes and looks at me but I don't think she really sees me, she's too deeply into the flood of new, overwhelming pleasure.

At last, lifting her legs higher, I thrust deep - as deep as I can until I feel my tip nudge the neck of her womb. Pulling back and pressing in, pulling out and thrusting hard I increase my speed and rhythm, taking her, staking my claim to her, making her my woman.

She gives a sharp cry and I feel her fingers clawing and scratching my back while the muscles of her cunni clutches my masterful cock. Her legs tighten across my back. She is lost in her passion.

I can hold out no longer. My rhythm pauses and I erupt, my seed filling her divine grotto.

As I relax, I feel emotionally exhausted, satiated and happy - happy that I have given her pleasure, happy that I have claimed her for my own, happy that she is everything I wanted.

We lie quietly for a while then I roll to one side and pillow my head on her full breasts.

'Is it always as good as that?' She asks.

'Given that was your first time I think it likely it'll only get better.'

'Promise.'

'If we both do our best to please other.'

'You'll have to tell me what you want.'

'Perhaps, but you'll find it'll just come naturally. Relax, we've got lots and lots of time before we arrive anywhere. So, barring a storm or two, we'll want something to occupy our time.'

She's silent for several minutes then, 'Am I better than my mother?'

'In what way?'

'In. . . in fucking.'

'Not sure, but the practice I'm going to give you will make you a lot better.'

'Please.' She shuts her eyes and stretches out to feel the warm sun.

Still no sign of a wind so I go below to start sorting and stowing the contents of my two sacks. All in all I'm quite pleased. One can always wish for more but, with the take from previous jobs that I have stashed in various accounts around the globe, I should have enough to fund a moderate lifestyle. And if invested wisely even a style of some comfort and elegance, despite not having budgeted for Penny sharing it with me. Though first must come a period of low profile.

Reflecting on clothing for my human booty, I decide that the sweater should be ample during any cooler spell and as it gets warmer why she can be permanently sky dressed. However when I later introduce her to slaving in the galley it is obvious she is going to need an addition to her wardrobe, for in choppy seas the stove will tend to splash hot water and fat onto her fair flesh. A rummage through my gear produces an old and, I'm sorry to say somewhat stained, dress shirt I keep for painting and vanishing. It will serve to keep her safe and does have the advantage of buttoning right down the front which will make it easy and quick for me to remove whenever the fancy strikes me.

It is still fairly early in the year so sunset comes before we are quite ready, and with it a warm, gentle westerly breeze. Raising a moderate sail we run before it on a south-east tack.

What a beautiful evening. Sitting in the cockpit, one hand on the wheel the other around Penny's bare shoulders, my fingers idly fondling a firm young boob, I have rarely been as content. For a long time we say nothing, just enjoying each other in the soft warm dusk. Then the me who is a risk taker and can't leave well alone asks, 'What really made you want to come? It wasn't just dissatisfaction - you could have found plenty of less drastic ways. Ones you could abandon if they didn't work.'

'I noticed you were just so shaggable.'

I can't leave it. 'No, I like to think I'm good in bed, but so are a lot of other guys. If all you wanted was a good fuck then I'm sure you wouldn't have had to look very far to find plenty of cock waiting to service you.'

She frowns slightly, 'Really, I don't know. You just seemed the man I needed to be with. Suddenly nothing else mattered - or made sense.'

I feel a glow inside me. 'I know what you mean. I felt just the same about you. I've had my share, probably more than my share, of pussy, but somehow you're the one that matters.'

Quietly she says, 'Then take me again. Shag me now. Please.'

'You realize we may have a problem?'

'And what might that be, my hero?'

'I swore of condoms years back. Who wants it wrapped like an injured warrior especially when all the broad has to do is take a pill. So I didn't include any in the supplies I stowed, and I didn't see you bring any pills.'

'Um. . . you're right. But where's the problem? We just let nature take its course. I'm sure the flower-power people back whenever didn't worry, and they came through alright.'

Doubtfully I put the thought on the back burner. Plenty of time to worry later. Anyway there's always a first time. I've never had time to bother about having a kid, maybe its something I need, and with the money I've now acquired a solution can always be bought.

Engaging the auto-steering I stretch and reach for her hand. No words are necessary as I urge her below to the state-room. It may be a trifle cramped but the mattress, although somewhat thin, is better than hard decking.

Laying her down I stroke her stomach, then the inside of her thighs while I consider how best to please her. She sighs.

'You're very beautiful, my dear,' I say, 'even more when you're horny.'

She giggles happily. 'Get on with it.'

I trail my fingers around her mound and gently scratch up and down her furrow. 'Now, now, we agreed that I was to be in charge.'

'Aye, aye, Captain.'

'Right then, no thoughts of mutiny.' I pinch one of her nipples.

'Only if you hurry up and fit it in me. I can't wait much longer.'

As I briefly kiss her, she thrusts her tongue deep into my mouth. Oh, but she is a fast learner.

She parts her legs even wider to give me easy access. I press my head between her thighs and brush my tongue up and down her furrow seeking her clit. She starts groaning as I take her nub into my mouth and suck hard.

I slip two fingers inside her, seeking for her G spot. Gently I rub where I think it must be. Her already damp furrow gets very wet, her breathing grows heavy and she moans, reaches up and winds her arms about my neck.

Turning her onto her knees I lift her hips. She takes her weight and my hands are free to grab her pendent tits, squeezing and milking them.

As I raise myself and run my rigid cock along her slit she pushes back at me then, almost without realizing it I am inside and moving hard.

'Yes. . . yes. . . shag me with that beautiful cock.' Why is it the nicest ones that talk dirty.

Firmly I move in and out of her. Deliberately I focus on the feeling - somehow she's different, she outshines any cunni, young or mature that I've previously filled - and there have been plenty of those.

'Faster! Fuck me faster!'

I start banging into her hard and fast. My fingers are digging into her tits. 'Squeeze me hard. Come for me, darling,' I gasp.

Suddenly she groaning, her head is back. 'I'm cumming! I'm cumming!'

Her cunni muscles are grabbing my tool as it hammers in and out and my seed is beginning to flow in response. I'm exploding inside her, filling her. For one magical moment everything stops as we clutch at each other. Then we collapse, hot, sweaty, exhausted, happy.

'Thank you, woman.'

'And you, Captain.'

'Only one thing wrong.'

'Oh, what's that?' She's worried.

'It was all too quick. We're going to have to learn to last longer.'

'Means we're going to need plenty of practice, Captain.'

'Yes, number one, it does.'

She rolls from me in a fit of giggles. 'With permission, sir, I'll draw up a timetable.'

I reach over and pull her back. 'Where do you think you're going? I haven't finished with you.'

'Sorry, lord and master.'

'So you should be.'

She wraps her legs around me and I slowly stroke her hair as we lie quietly feeling the gentle lift and drop of the swell and listening to the lapping of the sea against the hull.

'One thing though,' I say gently stroking her belly, 'this one I can be sure I made. So I reckon we keep it.'

'Aye, aye, captain.'

Chapter Two - Ill-Gotten Gains

I'm being lazy. Lying on a blanket I've spread in the shade of one of the palm trees edging the shore, I contemplate the insides of my eyelids. My only excuse is that a siesta is customary around these parts and anyway it's too hot this early in the afternoon - despite there being a slight breeze today - not enough to dry the sweat springing from my chest and pooling around my naked balls but still welcome.

By turning my head to one side I can see my Penny idly splashing in the shallows - introducing our month old daughter, Pearl, to water and encouraging her to wave her arms and legs. Far too early yet, but experts do say babies can learn to swim, after a fashion, before they can crawl.

Penny is looking tanned and fit. With the glorious exception of her milk-swollen breasts her figure has already almost shrunk back to its pre-baby proportions and slimness, and she is hinting that in another week or two we are going to resume my regular thrice daily invasion of her cunni - to which she had become sorely addicted. It means that I shall shortly have to get off my butt and pay a quiet visit to one or other of the ports along the coast in order to lay in a supply of pills, for while another kid is definately on the cards, this time it will be planned.

We came across this remote little fishing village three months ago while searching for a place where Penny could safely produce. At first I was unsure whether it would prove a suitable haven for, like most of the region, it had suffered badly in the Boxing Day tsunami of a few years back. It's poor, not so much in terms of the damage - which was mainly to easily reconstructed grass huts - but because when the water struck most of the men had been out fishing; none returned.

Since then there has been international aid by the mountain but, excuse my cynicism, as usual it all went were it showed. Where the media could make its readers and viewers feel good looking at nice pretty pictures - not to isolated, difficult to access villages. Anyway how do you get across the plight of families without men, work or income.

It was clear that Penny and I could become the salvation of a community that was struggling to survive. For the merest bundle of notes from my stash would produce the means to let the women turn from fishing to agriculture - without boats and the strength to sail them they couldn't fish, but they could sow and water and reap. And until the plants grew a few more notes would buy the sustenance they needed.

In return Penny was given the midwifery support of the older women to produce our little Pearl.

A familiar, and favourite, scent wafts by - a woman in heat. Then a hand caresses my chest and tweaks a nipple. Opening my eyes I'm blessed first with the sight of a coffee coloured, conical boob then the smiling face of Twinkle - the chief's youngest daughter. One hand explores my body, coming to rest wrapped around my cock, while the other offers me a coconut brimming with cool milk.