The Doldrums: the Sailor and the Virgin Ch. 03

"Are ye hurt, Miss?" He reached an arm towards her.

She hopped upon one foot. "Something pricked my foot." She set her foot down gingerly. "It's still there." Limping back to cockpit she sat down next to the companionway. Decorously she turned away from him to lift her foot to her other knee. In the light coming up from the cabin she twisted her foot up and bent close to see the sole.

"Do ye have a splinter?" He leaned over to look.

"I don't know... something is in there."

"Miss Novikov, I do be removing splinters often. Will ye let me do it?"

She hastily put her foot down, smoothing the coat over her knees. She looked wary. "I promise ye it won't require an amputation," he said solemnly. For a moment she stared at him, her eyes big.

Then a smile broke over her face. "Very well, Mr. Thomas, I'm at your mercy," she laughed.

He hurried below to retrieve the barometer's cleaning tool kit, a lantern, and as an afterthought grabbed a cushion from the dining settee. He placed the cushion upon the cockpit seat. "Here Miss." He patted it. "Lie here...here turn onto your belly." She tried to comply, unsteady and struggling to hold the hems of the nightgown and coat down by her ankles. He took hold of them. "I'll hold these for ye." He kept them pulled tight while she turned over.

He sat down upon the seat by her feet. "Now give me your foot." She extended her right foot towards him, and as he took hold of it, he felt her other foot all at once in his lap --- lying as she was, there was simply no other place for it. His breath caught. Holding her raised right foot, his gaze dropped: the top of her left foot rested warm upon his thigh --- her toes were upon his cock, separated by his trousers. Dinna think on it, he told himself, as his organ awakened.

He forced his attention back to the hurt foot he cradled. It was so dainty in his large hands; the pastel colors of the bottom reminded him of the inside of an oyster shell. Drawing the lantern closer, he spied a small dark streak, perhaps a quarter inch long, in the ball of her foot. Aye, 'twas a splinter. He pressed a thumb behind it, but the end would not emerge. From the barometer kit he removed a small tweezers, and started to pluck at the skin over the splinter.

Her foot jerked. "Oh you tickle!" she giggled. He resumed, trying to keep the touch of the tweezers firmer upon her skin. In her giddy state however, she squirmed and shook under his ministrations; every motion transmitted through her foot onto his cock, now full stiff and twisting the fabric of his trousers tight. Her big toe rubbed against the head, while the rest of her toes wiggled upon the shaft. He could scarce work the tweezers under the delicious torture.

At last he succeeded in extracting the sliver. He found however that he did not want to relinquish her dear little foot. Beneath his fingertips he felt the delicate bones below the soft skin. He cupped her small toes into the warmth of his palm. He then proceeded to press his thumbs into the smooth sole in slow circles --- over the ball, the gracefully arched instep, and the round heel.

With her foot raised as it was, the nightgown and coat had slid down a little, and he could see her slim ankle and the start of the curve of her calf. She did not seem to have registered that he was no longer picking at the splinter.

"Mr. Thomas," her voice sounded sleepy. "What is the meaning of the boat's name: The Singing Selkie?"

"Well, Miss...a selkie be a mysterious and magical creature that lives in the seas about Ireland and Scotland. In the water it has the form of seal, but it can shed it skin to live as a human upon the land. However..." he paused dramatically. "...without its sealskin, it canna return to the sea." He continued to massage her foot as he spoke, his voice melodious under the heady influence of the wine and the sweet pressure of her toes upon his tumescent organ.

She had ceased squirming, her intermittent movements now more languorous as he waxed poetic. "There be tales of land men who have a taken a selkie maiden to wife, but to keep her by him the man must hide her sealskin from her, lest she find it and return to her sea home."

"Do these creatures truly exist...or are they mythical?" she murmured.

"Oh they exist, ta be sure. I once saw one myself upon a rocky beach outside Carrickfergus when a lad --- I be there fishing when a shiny seal came out of the waves, stood up and shed her sealskin. She was right bonnie as a lass. She started to dance, then spied me watching. I thought she would jump back into her sealskin and disappear into the sea --- but lo she invited me to dance with her. 'I will,' said I. I was just about to take her hands...when she suddenly trod upon a broken shell and drove a sliver into her foot."

By the last sentence, Liam could no longer contain his mirth at his own whimsy and was laughing aloud.

"Oh you tease me!" She was giggling too.

In his merriment, he inadvertently slackened the pressure of his fingers upon her foot and tickled her. Her foot jumped, and she wriggled and laughed uncontrollably. The sudden flurry of activity sent the toes of her left foot pushing and sliding upon his cock; his laughter was cut short by a barely stifled groan. He squeezed her upraised foot hard.

At last she settled back and his breathing eased. "But why is the selkie singing, Mr. Thomas?" she asked.

"I think she do be longing for her sea home --- she sits upon the rocks looking sorrowfully out to the sea, singing of her home, so she does." Liam remembered a ballad he had heard as a lad, and now began to sing it softly as he kneaded her foot.

"What are you singing?" Her voice was drowsy again.

"'Tis a story of a fisherman who falls in love with a selkie maiden." He sang it again more slowly, relishing the feel of the Gaelic upon his tongue.

Presently he became aware of her soft even breathing. Leaning closer in the dim light of the lantern he saw that she slept. Her head, resting upon her folded arms, was turned such that he could see her pretty ear, her pale profile. The dark mass of her hair was spread upon the cushion. As his eyes caressed her face, he said "Miss Novikov" in his mind --- he yearned to whisper her true given name to her.

His eyes traveled down the shadowed folds of the ulster, lingering where a hint of her rounded arse was discernable. The image filled his mind of her that first day lying in the berth with her bottom and a hint of cunny exposed. Looking at her lying on her belly upon the cockpit seat, he imagined crawling over her, his knees on either side of her legs...he wanted to push the ulster and nightgown slowly up, bunching the fabric in advance of his lips...he would kiss his way up her skin as it was bared...soft wet kisses and nips over her calves, her thighs, her bottom...then he would lie over her, nuzzling her ear and kissing her parted lips, while his stiffstander burrowed between her bottom cheeks to find the opening of that pretty pink cunny.

Liam suddenly became conscious that he was repeatedly flexing his calf, moving his thigh up and down --- and her foot upon it --- in such a manner that her toes were stroking his cock. Abruptly he stood, laying her feet gently upon the cockpit seat. He took himself from the cockpit, to the foredeck from whence he could not see that bewitching creature.

Swearing at himself, he strode back and forth upon the deck. Was he no better than her stepfather and Mr. D---?! For a long time he stood, breathing deeply of the cold air and staring out at the starry sky, till he once more felt master of himself.

Noticing her boots, he bent to gather them up, tucking her stockings and garters inside. She was still asleep when he stepped back into the cockpit. He leaned over her and said "Miss Novikov" close by her ear.

"Mmmmm..."

"Ye'd best get to your cabin, 'twill be much more comfortable."

Her eyes opened. Groggily, she pushed herself to sitting, seeming confused. She got to her feet. "Oh Mr. Thomas," said she, testing her foot, "You removed the splinter."

"I did, Miss."

"Thank you. You are indeed a good Samaritan." She yawned.

Some bloody good Samaritan, he thought. If she but knew that he was after frigging himself with her innocent little foot! She stepped toward the companionway, wobbly upon her feet, taking his offered arm. "Would ye like me to carry ye down the ladder, Miss?"

"I believe I can manage." Nevertheless, he descended first, then turned to hold his arms out, his hands hovering next to her waist as she stepped down, her white feet feeling for the steps. He steered her to her cabin where he lit the lantern and set her boots next to the hanging locker.

She stood by the berth, slow fingers undoing a velvet ribbon in her hair. "I'll fetch ye more water," he said, taking the pitcher. When he returned, she was trying to unbutton the coat, swaying a little as she looked down at her awkward fingers. "Let me assist ye, Miss. You've had a wee bit too much wine."

"Oh no Mr. Thomas," she protested, her cheeks growing even pinker.

"I'll only unfasten the buttons --- nothing more," he assured her. She blinked at him slowly. "Nothing more," she repeated, the words a little slurred. She dropped her hands and let him take over. She stood pliant, her eyes almost closed as he worked the buttons.

As he reached for the last one, he felt her eyes upon him. He looked up from the coat and found her gazing up at him, her expression unlike any he had beheld thus far. It was quite startling in its...nakedness. It seemed that she looked at him no longer as a mere hired seaman, but as if he be a male, and she a female. His heart surged toward her.

Then his fingers fumbled upon the button and he briefly shifted his attention to unfasten it. When again he searched her face, she was as she had been at the outset: a little off balance, her eyelids heavy. Had he imagined her expression?

His thoughts fuddled, he poured a cup of water from the pitcher and put it in her hand. "Drink this, Miss." Obediently she drank, the lush curve of her lashes dipping as she raised the cup. "Aye, all of it." He had her drink a second cup before taking his leave of her.

"Goodnight, Miss. Be sure to turn down the lantern afore ye go to sleep. Ye ken where my cabin be if ye need anything." As he closed her door, his last glimpse was of her standing beside the berth, regarding him, her eyes inscrutable.