When we rounded Lover’s Key and were in the passage to Estero Bay, I dropped the main sail and jib, then started the auxiliary to motor through the Big Carlos Pass Bridge. We had to wait until the bridge operator got my signal, stopped traffic, and then raised the draw, but that was the only way to get into Estero Bay. The fifty-three foot mast on The Southern Belle was too tall to make it under the bridge if the draw was down. There’s been talk about building a new bridge with a sixty-foot clearance, but I really hope they don’t. The extra clearance will just increase boat traffic and I like it like it is.
The Southern Belle is a Catalina 42 MKII I bought three years ago, and she was sort of a spur of the moment purchase. I’d been sailing a Catalina Capri 22 for about five years and she suited me just fine. I did my sailing on the weekends and usually traveled along the Florida Gulf coast. It was a nice place to sail and I could sail all day, pull into a marina for the night, and then sail back on Sunday. I was always within sight of land, so if something happened, I could always make one of the ports that dotted the shore and get it fixed. If it was serious, the US Coast Guard was only an hour or so away.
In between my sailing weekends, I was a Senior Financial Analyst for Barkley, Biggs, and Anderson, an investment firm that managed investment portfolios for several 401k’s offered by some major corporations as well as some personal portfolios of well-to-do retirees. There are a lot of both in South Florida, so I was doing very well. I was thirty-nine, divorced, and pulling down a little over a hundred grand a year before taxes. My ex was bleeding me for about forty thousand a year, but I still had more income than I could spend without being extravagant.
I said that for a reason – that in between my sailing weekends I had a job. That’s because after eighteen years of working, that’s how it felt. I was living for Saturday and Sunday on the Cat 22, and enduring the rest of the week as best I could.
It was in January, four years ago, my ex’s lawyer sent my lawyer a letter informing me that my ex had remarried. What that meant was I could stop paying her alimony. For the rest of the year, I put that money into low risk stocks and my own 401k. The next January, when I did my taxes, I totaled all my assets and then did some thinking.
If I kept working, I’d continue to be bored out of my mind five days a week. My assets would continue to increase, but what good would that do me? I had no taste for expensive cars, and living by myself and working fourteen hours a day, I didn’t need a mansion. All I needed was a bed and a place to take a shower.
I did need some sort of income though, if only so when I decided to retire I wouldn’t have to worry about money. With what I already had, I didn’t need six figures. I just needed enough to cover my expenses so I didn’t have to touch my long-term investments. When I went sailing the following Saturday, I discovered the answer to all my problems.
I’d seen the charter cruise boats before, but I really didn’t have any interest in them. They took people on day cruises or overnight cruises for a fee. I didn’t need to pay somebody for a day cruise to wherever their standard route was. I had my own boat and could go where I wanted to go.
As I watched a young couple board the boat next to my slip though, I realized I could do the same thing. I just needed a bigger boat. I could sail every day, or at least every day I had paying customers, and if I had a bigger boat, I wouldn’t need my apartment. I could just live on the boat.
Every night for the next week, I browsed the Internet for local used boats for sale, and the next Saturday, I looked at the best of the boats I’d located. I figured I’d need at least a forty-foot boat in order to have a couple cabins for customers and still have a place for me to live. It would also have to be rigged so I could sail her by myself. That meant a self-furling main and self-tacking jib, running rigging that ran back to winches in the cockpit, and an automatic pilot. It would also have to be pretty nicely fitted out inside so my customers would feel like they got everything they paid for. I couldn’t charge Hilton rates for a Red Roof cabin.
I found The Southern Belle at the fifth marina I visited, though she was named The Rich Witch then. She’d been bought by a former stockbroker and his wife, and then fitted out for blue water. She even had a six-foot dinghy with an outboard motor hanging from davits at the stern instead of an inflatable with oars.
His intention was to sail around the Gulf for a year to get comfortable handling her and then head out on a cruise to Europe. Those plans came to an end when he had a heart attack and passed away. His wife wasn’t so keen on sailing by herself and put The Rich Witch up for sale.
I liked the boat for a lot of reasons. She had two cabins under the cockpit with access to a head, and a captain’s cabin in the bow with its own head. In the middle was a spacious galley and eating area. Everything looked almost new from the shining stainless steel of the stove, sink, and refrigerator/freezer to the rich wood and red leather of the seating.
The wife had listed her at a hundred and eighty thousand. I had her surveyed and she appraised at a hundred and fifty because her spare sails had been repaired and her bottom hadn’t been cleaned in a couple years. After a quick sit-down with my bank, I made an offer of a hundred and forty thousand, and we clinched the deal at one forty-five.
Her slip was rented for another three months, but that marina didn’t allow living on board. After another Saturday of visiting marinas, I rented a slip at Snook Bight and on Sunday, motored into that slip and tied up. I gave a month’s notice to Barkley, Biggs, and Anderson that Monday morning, and arranged to have her hauled out and her bottom cleaned. By the time I cleaned out my desk at work and said goodbye to everybody, she was named The Southern Belle and had a new set of sails in her sail locker, and I’d sub-let my apartment and moved aboard.
Like her former owner, I wanted a little time to get the feel of her before venturing out with passengers. After two weeks of sailing up and down the coast, I stocked the fridge and filled up the water and fuel tanks, motored out of the Estero Bay passage, then raised the sails and steered a course for Pensacola. A week later, I was back at Snook Bight and making contact with several travel agencies in the US. I also paid a kid studying computers in college to build a web-site for me explaining what I offered and the prices. I was no longer Mark Johnson, Senior Financial Analyst. I was now Mark Johnson, sole owner of Southern Belle Charters and captain of The Southern Belle.
I got several inquiries over the next few weeks. The cruising season in Florida is the winter months, and most inquiries I got were asking about cruise dates between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day. I soon had three bookings, not as many as I would have liked, but enough to keep me in food and fuel. I’d tap into my savings until I was getting enough charters to make the payments on The Southern Belle.
I still had one problem though. It was easy to take calls when I was docked. Out on the open water though, I’d quickly lose my cell phone signal. The Southern Belle had a marine radio so I could communicate with any port and the US Coast Guard, but not with potential customers. I needed a land base and somebody to stay there to take reservations anytime I was out.
The office I found was on the second floor over a hairdresser and a boutique, but it was affordable at less than four hundred a month. A cheap desk and four chairs mostly filled the hundred and twenty square feet, so I didn’t need much more than a person. After interviewing several applicants, I hired Rita Mayweather.
I hired Rita over the other applicants for several reasons. I was my experience in financial planning that most people will trust someone in their thirties or forties more than someone much younger or much older. Rita was thirty-five according to her application. She was also really easy to talk to. There are some people like that – you sit down with them and it’s like you’ve known them all your life. That’s how Rita was.
Rita was also pretty nice to look at, but not absolutely gorgeous. That was important too. At the three financial businesses I’d worked at, women who were pretty plain had some trouble retaining clients. Women who looked like they’d just stepped off the cover of some fashion magazine had problems retaining clients too. Women like Rita were the most successful and I knew the reason why because Marsha had explained it to me.
“Mark, when you see a woman who doesn’t look like she cares how she looks, what do you think?”
I said she probably wouldn’t care about my investments either and Marsha nodded.
“Now, when you see a woman like Tiffany, what do you think?”
Tiffany was a tall blonde with fairly large breasts and legs that went on forever. She didn’t mind displaying either. She always wore blouses open enough you could see her bra part of the time, and her skirts were so short when she sat down, you’d know she had to be wearing panty hose.
I grinned at Marsha.
“Well, I’d think she was fishing for a guy and wondering if I had a chance.”
“Exactly”, and that’s what most other guys would think too. They wouldn’t want a financial advisor who wanted to show them her boobs and legs instead of explaining how to better their investments. Women would consider her to be a threat and wouldn’t want to talk to her much less let their husbands talk to her.”
Marsha was one of those women you look at and wonder how she’d be, but you wouldn’t really try to do anything with her because she was married. She was doing very well, so I figured she knew what she was talking about. That’s why I hired Rita.
Rita had long brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders and she had pretty eyes and a very sensuous mouth. The pants and blouse she’d worn for the interview fit well enough to make it obvious she was a desirable woman, but conservative enough it didn’t look like she was advertising that fact.
Rita also seemed to have a sense of adventure. She’d divorced her husband because he’d found a woman like Tiffany and thought she fit him better than Rita. To leave that life behind her, Rita had driven from Michigan to Fort Lauderdale to take a job as a bartender in one of the bigger restaurants there. Once in Florida, she’d learned to scuba dive and had taken a few diving charters. She’d also taken a cruise to the Virgin Islands and said she loved being on the water. I figured she’d be able to convince people The Southern Belle was an experience they’d remember for a long, long time.
Once I hired her, I took her on a day cruise so she’d be able to tell potential customers how comfortable The Southern Belle was and how nice her captain was. It was a nice cruise. Rita spent the time in shorts and a T-shirt and seemed to really like it.
I liked seeing Rita in shorts and a T-shirt too. She had better legs than I’d figured because she’d been wearing pants for the interview. She also had bigger breasts than I figured too, and after an hour on the water with the wind blowing through her hair, she looked sexier than my ex had after she’d spent half a day at her hairdresser.
Everything started to click after I hired Rita. Right after Thanksgiving, I started getting day cruises every other day, and about once a month, an overnight cruise. The overnight cruises weren’t something I’d planned on doing, but Rita said when she took her cruise to the Virgin Islands, the nights were the best part.
“I sat on deck every night and looked up at the stars. It was so romantic, well, it would have been if I’d been with a guy, but it was still great. I’d bet if you advertised for a romantic night at sea, you’d attract a lot of couples. Women like romantic settings. Just take a few bottles of wine along, and then set the autopilot and leave them alone on deck. They’ll have the time of their lives and they’ll tell other people.”
I took Rita out a few more times that winter, mostly to get some pictures of Southern Bell under sail. Rita would wear a bathing suit and I’d pick a calm day so I could keep up with the dinghy. I got several pictures of her standing on the bow or standing in the cockpit at the wheel. After I had them enlarged to poster size, I put them in her office.
Business slacked off after New Year’s day, but I’d expected that. I was still getting a couple day charters a week from older people, but I had some free time to think about what else I could offer customers.
One of the things several customers had asked in the after-cruise survey I sent them in the mail was if I offered longer cruises and specifically, if I would consider taking them on a cruise to one or more of the islands in the Caribbean. I’d thought about doing that. The Southern Belle was equipped for an open ocean cruise so she wouldn’t have any problems, but I’d never sailed there so I wasn’t sure about port facilities and the safest way to navigate the waters.
After the third survey had posed the same question, I decided to make the trip to the islands during the off-season and find out what I needed to know. When I told Rita what I planned to do, she said I’d love the islands. Then, she asked if she could go along.
“You’ll need a woman along to find things a woman wants to see and do, won’t you?”
I said that would probably work out best, but I didn’t know a woman who’d want to make that first trip.
By July, my business had almost dried up, but I’d expected that to happen. People come to Florida in the summer to visit Disney World and Universal Studios with their kids, not to take charter cruises. It’s also usually hot as hell. It looked like The Southern Belle was going to sit in her slip for at least the next two weeks, and that gave me the opportunity. I bought charts for the Virgin Islands and plotted a course. Rita and I motored through the Big Carlos Pass Bridge on a Monday morning, and once clear, I set the sails.
An hour later, we were the only boat in sight. Rita said it was too hot for shorts and a T-shirt so she was going to change into a bathing suit.
It was hot. My thermometer was hovering around ninety-eight and even with the breeze that was pushing Southern Bell along I was sweating. While she was below in her cabin, I pulled off my shirt and that felt better.
When Rita came back on deck, she wasn’t wearing the same bathing suit she’d worn for my pictures. She was wearing a little black bikini that didn’t leave much of her figure to the imagination.
She saw me staring and grinned.
“Is this too much? I thought you might like it.”
“No, it’s fine. I just never imagined you for a bikini.”
She smiled, but it was a wicked little smile.
“There’s probably a few other things about me you never imagined.”
I’d have asked her what those things were if she hadn’t plopped down on the seat opposite my chair and started putting on suntan lotion.
Rita was more than distracting when she started smoothing that lotion on her chest. The bikini covered her breasts, but just, and as she moved her fingers around, I was watching her breasts sort of flow away and then raise back up. Thankfully, that didn’t take all that long. She did her stomach then, and that wasn’t particularly erotic. She got erotic again when she spread her legs and began working the lotion into her legs and thighs. I hadn’t seen it when she was standing up, but when she spread her thighs, there it was – the indent where her bikini bottoms had pulled in between her lips.
By the time Rita got done with her thighs, my cock was at half-mast and rising. She stood up then and asked if I’d do her back for her.
I hadn’t seen her from the back up until that moment, and it took me a few seconds to answer her. The bikini bottoms were pretty small in front. In back, they were just a narrow strap that ran up between her butt cheeks, and those were some really fine butt cheeks. They weren’t fat, and they were round, smooth, and sensuous. My cock made it to three-quarter mast then.
I started on her back, and that wasn’t too bad. Rita had soft shoulders that felt really nice under my hands. Evidently she liked my hands too, because I’d only just started when she murmured, “Mmm…that feels great.”
I got down to the swell of her hips and decided it would be better if I did her legs instead. Well, it would have been better if she hadn’t been so close and she hadn’t spread her legs. Her calves felt pretty nice. It was when I started on the back of her thighs my cock started taking notice again. Rita was so soft and so smooth, and by the time I got to the crease between her thighs and ass cheeks, I was looking at the indent in her bikini bottoms again. This time though, I could see part of one soft, rippled lip peeking out around the strap that went up between her butt cheeks.
I stopped then, and Rita turned around.
“Aren’t you gonna do my butt too?”
“Well, I thought you’d probably rather do that.”
Rita shook her head.
“Uh-uh. I can’t see what I’m doing and I’ll miss a spot or two. I don’t want a case of blotchy butt.”
It was a good thing my pants were pretty loose. If they’d been any tighter, I wouldn’t have been able to push my cock up when she turned back around. If I hadn’t done that, my cock would have started to hurt because as soon as I put my hands on her tight ass cheek, Rita shivered and that made my fingers accidentally slip into her crack. That made her shiver again. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. I saw how she spread her legs a little more and that made my cock even harder.
I finished both butt cheeks and said I was done. When Rita turned around, she looked a little flushed, but she just smiled, said “Thanks”, and walked up to the bow. For the next two hours, I looked around the cabin about every two minutes. When she was lying on her back, she had her thighs spread and I could still see that indentation in her bikini bottoms. Her breasts sort of flattened out against her chest, but they were big enough they still made two soft mounds under her bikini bra.
When she was rolled over on her stomach, all I could see was her butt cheeks, but that was enough to keep my cock rigid. I was glad when she came back to the cockpit and asked if I was ready for lunch. My cock went back down while she was in the galley.
When she came back up with a plate of two sandwiches and two cans of soda, it wasn’t quite as bad because I’d almost gotten used to her by then. We also talked about what we were going to do once we got to the first island and talking took my mind off what I was seeing.
After lunch, Rita went back on the bow and this time she took her suntan lotion with here. I didn’t understand why she’d do that until she reached behind her and unhooked the band on the bra. She was facing away from me when she put lotion on her breasts, but when she bent down to lay on her stomach, I saw her right breast sway sideways under her arm. That was enough I had to straighten my cock out again.
I didn’t look around the cabin after that. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to because I did. It was just that Rita was technically my employee and I’d learned long ago that there were limits to what an employer should do with an employee.
The sun was almost on the horizon when she stood up, put her bra back on, and then walked back to the cockpit.
“Mark, is it alright if I take a shower? After that, if you’ll show me how to work the stove, I’ll fix dinner for us. Anything in particular you’d like tonight?”
After seeing her half-naked all day, I felt like saying “just you”, but I didn’t.
“It’ll be a short shower because the water heater is pretty small, but go ahead. There are some hamburger patties in the freezer. How about those and whatever else you can find you’d like to eat with them?”
We ate and then talked for a while as the sun slowly sank into the Caribbean. Just before it did, Rita asked if I wanted something to drink.
“I saw a liquor cabinet when I was looking for your plates. I used to be a bartender, remember? I can fix anything you want.”
I said I’d like just a scotch, straight and she grinned.
“I figured you for a scotch man. You can tell after you tend bar for a while. I brought a couple of bottles of wine, so that’s what I’m having. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
When Rita brought my scotch and her wine on deck, she handed me my glass, and then laid out on the stern cushions and sighed.
“This is like when I went to the Virgin Islands the first time. I love all the stars. You can’t see this man on land. When I was a little girl, my mother told me if I wished on a star, my wish would come true.”
She chuckled then.
“Hasn’t so far, but I keep wishing.”
I set the autopilot and then turned on the cockpit lights. They weren’t very bright, more like candlelight, and I’d never noticed how warm they made everything look until I saw Rita lying there.
“So, what does Rita wish for?”
She sipped her wine.
“Oh, the same things most women wish for, I guess – a man to take care of and to take care of me, some place to call home, things like that.”
“You shouldn’t have trouble finding a man.”
“I didn’t think I would, but after my divorce, I figured out the men worth having, or at least a man who wouldn’t chase after another woman, they’re already taken.”
“You just haven’t been looking hard enough. I had a lot of single men as clients who were looking.”
“Yeah, they used to come into the bar every night. The only thing was, they were looking for the women who came in dressed like queens and drank cosmopolitans or apple martinis. I was just the bartender in black shirt and pants and an apron who mixed their drinks. Some of them weren’t all that young either. What they were looking for was a wife who’d look good at parties. I don’t look that great even when I’m dressed up.”
I said I’d never seen her dressed up, but I thought she’d look fine. Rita laughed.
“I look OK, or at least I think I do, but they weren’t looking for OK. They were looking for fantastic.”
“Well, they were missing the boat, I think. I was married to one of those fantastic women. She might have looked great, but at home, she was a bitch. Spent a ton of money at the beauty parlor and manicurist every week, and when I tried to have a little fun at night, she’d complain I was going to mess up her hair. I hope the guy who married her likes that. I just wanted a woman who wanted to be with me.”
Rita raised up off the cushions.
“She didn’t like sex?”
“No, not really. Besides messing up her hair, she said it made her feel dirty afterwards.”
Rita giggled a little.
“Sex always made me feel good. It’s a little sticky, but it was still good. That why you divorced her – she didn’t like having sex?”
“Part of it, I suppose, but most of it was she wasn’t really interested in me. In my position, we went to a lot of dinners and dinner meetings. What she was interested in was seeing how many men she could have drooling over her by the time we went home. That was the real problem. She had a great figure and she’d always wear something that showed a lot of cleavage and a lot of legs. All night long, she’d smile and flirt at every man in the place except me. On the way home, all she wanted to do was tell me how this guy had said she was hot, or this other guy asked if she was married or not and if it made any difference to her.
“That worked on me, you know. I mean, a man likes to think he’s the only one his wife wants to see her that way, but Sherry didn’t. She never played around that I know of, but she did everything but that. I got tired of standing beside her while she flirted with every guy she saw and then going home to a cold bed.”
“You never tried to find another woman?”
“Yeah, but the women I knew were either already married, older women looking for a younger man, or when I tried to ask them out, I found out they were the same as Sherry – all look and no touch. It kind of goes with the people you meet in the finance business. Most have money and they aren’t very subtle about letting you know you’re not in the same class. You’re good for what you can do for them, but that’s about all.”
Rita finished her wine, then asked if I wanted another scotch. The wind was pretty calm and when I’d checked on the weather, it promised to be a clear night. The autopilot would keep us on our course.
“Yeah, I think I’d like another.”
“Be right back”, she said.
“Right back” took about five minutes. I figured she’d just used the head. She smiled when she handed me my glass and then stretched out on the stern cushions again.
“So, if you gave up on the women where you worked, have you thought about any of your female clients? I talked to a couple who sounded really sexy.
“No, but I know the two you’re talking about. They were OK, but really too young for me.”
“I never thought I’d hear a man say a woman was too young for him. The blonde my ex was screwing was ten years younger than him. So, what’s too young for you?”
“Well, it isn’t just age. Those two were all upset when their cell phones stopped working and all they did was take pictures of each other. Besides, one of them was already married and the other had her boyfriend with her.”
Rita sipped her wine and then looked at me.
“I think if it had been a night cruise like this, you wouldn’t have had to talk very much to get one of them into bed.”
“Why. I’m not that great.”
“Well, it’s like it is in all the books – starry night, strong, rugged, manly boat captain, young woman wanting to be taken by a real man instead of her wimpy boyfriend. She’d probably have fallen into your arms and begged you to make love to her.”
“I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels. I don’t think that ever happens in real life.”
Rita’s voice seemed a little lower and softer then.
“It could happen…if you want it to happen. I do.”
When I looked at her face she wasn’t smiling. It looked like she was almost pleading with me.
“Rita, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know each other well enough.”
“I’ve told you about me and you’ve told me about you. Isn’t that enough?”
“Well, we probably both left out a lot of things.”
Rita raised up and pulled the T-shirt over her head.
“The only thing I left out is I need you, and I’m telling you that right now.”
The next morning, I told myself if I hadn’t been on my second scotch and if Rita had been wearing a bra under that T-shirt, I might have been able to tell her no. I did start to, but before I could say anything, she stood up, unbuttoned her shorts and let them fall to the deck. She wasn’t wearing panties either. The little strip of brown hair on her mound went down as far as the top of her lips. From there on down, she was just bare, smooth, soft skin.
Rita stepped out of her shorts, walked the four feet that separated us, and sat down on my lap.
“Please don’t disappoint me Mark. I’ve been thinking about this all day, and if you don’t want to, I’ll think it’s me, just like it was with my husband and all those other men.”
By then, I couldn’t say no. I know, you’re sitting there thinking I’m weak where women are concerned. I’m not. Rita was just different than any other woman I’d ever met.
“I don’t have anything…I mean, I wasn’t expecting –“
Rita kissed me before I could finish and then gently pulled away.
“You don’t need anything.
“Shouldn’t we go down to my cabin?”
Rita kissed me softly, and then murmured, “No, take me right here, under the stars.”
I have to admit the stars did something to me too when I saw them reflected in Rita’s wide open eyes. Before, she was just a woman who took my reservations. That morning and afternoon, I’d started thinking she was a lot more than that, and when she said there were a lot of things about her I didn’t know, she got really interesting. Now, lying beside me on the stern cushions with her breasts against my chest and her smooth thigh over my legs, she was the woman I’d always wanted to find.
Her breast flowed away from my touch when I fondled it, and I heard a tiny little moan from Rita. She caught her breath when I stroked her nipple, then pressed her parted lips to mine. I felt her tongue searching for an opening, so I opened my mouth and then felt a zinging shock race to my cock when our tongues touched. In the process of that, I gently pinched her nipple, and Rita stopped teasing my tongue long enough to moan.
When I stroked down her back to her hips, the same hips I’d put suntan lotion on that morning, Rita shivered, but she pushed her mound into my leg. When I cupped the cheek I could reach, Rita slipped her hand down my belly until she found my cock. It had been a long time since a woman touched my cock, but I couldn’t remember any woman with such soft fingers and such a soft touch.
She didn’t start jacking my cock. She just made little feather-soft strokes that were driving me crazy. When I slipped my fingers down over her hip and found her lips, she did jack a little.
Rita’s lips were already wet and a little slippery when I parted them and slipped my fingertip over her rippled inner lips. I felt her hand on my back, pulling at me, but I knew she wasn’t ready yet. I slipped a finger to her entrance and then slowly pushed it in. I couldn’t get it in very far because I was reaching around her hip, but I got as far as the snug ring of muscle. Rita jerked her hips when I stroked there, then moaned and kept pulling on my shoulder.
I kissed her, another tongue-tangling kiss, and felt her rock her mound into my leg, then start to move her leg over mine a little more. She didn’t stop until she was on top of me.
Rita closed her eyes then and felt between us for my cock. When she found it, she raised up enough to push it back, and then eased down while moving it back a little more. When I felt her lips close around the head, I had to stop myself from lunging up. I did raise up a little, and Rita moaned when my cock head found her entrance. She took a deep breath and then began impaling herself on my rigid cock, and she didn’t stop until she was sitting on my thighs. After a murmured, “Oh God, I’d forgotten”, and another deep breath, Rita leaned down, pushed her left breast into my face and started riding me. Her nipple brushed my cheek and when I opened my mouth, it slipped in. A first gentle suck caused Rita to catch her breath and make a little double lurch. A little harder made her moan and slowly push back down until I felt her lips flatten out against the base of my cock.
After that, we got lost in the stars shining down, lost in the sound of the breeze singing through the rigging, and the sensations of both our bodies making love to each other. That’s what it was, both of us making love to each other. It wasn’t like it had been with my wife. She’d always just laid there and then asked if I was done yet. Rita gave herself to me in ways I’d dreamed about but never experienced.
I didn’t know if she understood a stiff, thick nipple in my mouth was almost as arousing as her stroking my cock, but that’s where she kept either one or the other unless she was bending lower to swirl my tongue with hers. I didn’t know if the little contractions I was feeling around my shaft were intentional or not, but they were there, one almost every time she raised up. It felt like even though she was pulling herself off my cock, her body was trying to keep it inside her.
After a while, her stokes got a little faster and with each one, Rita would rock her hips and push my cock a little deeper inside her rippling passage, usually deep enough my cock head pressed into something soft and wet. Then she’d raise back up and I’d feel those contractions again.
I was starting to groan with each stroke when Rita gasped and rocked down on my cock fast. She pushed a nipple into my face, and when I sucked it, she gasped again and ground her lips into the base of my cock.
I lost track of what happened after that. All I remember is Rita starting to rock her passage over my cock without really lifting her body, then a little cry, and then another when I gave up and pushed my cock in her as far as I could just before the first spurt flew up my shaft and splattered into that soft, wet place deep inside her.
Rita was still panting for breath and rocking her body over mine when I spurted two more times, and she kept doing that for a few more seconds. Then, she slowly stretched out her legs and lowered herself until she was lying on my chest with my cock still inside her.
Rita stopped breathing hard about the same time I did, and lifted her head to kiss me. When she pulled away, she nestled her face between my neck and shoulder and whispered, “Can we stay like this?”
I stroked down her back and then gently squeezed her butt cheek.
“I need to check our course in a few minutes.”
Rita nibbled my shoulder and then whispered, “You’ll come back to me after that, won’t you?”
The autopilot was doing a fine job of maintaining our course, so I did go back to Rita. Those stern cushions aren’t really wide enough for two people, but when I woke up the next morning, she was there, snuggled up with her breasts against my chest and one leg hooked over mine.
I stroked the hair away from her forehead and then kissed her there. Rita’s eyes fluttered open, then closed again and she put her arm around me and pulled me against her.
“Mmmm, I haven’t felt this way since I don’t know when.”
“Mind telling me why this happened?”
Rita opened her eyes and smiled.
“Yesterday, when you got hard because of what I was wearing –“
“You saw that?”
“It was hard not to see it. Anyway, after you got hard, I started wondering if maybe…Mark, one of the things I didn’t tell you about my marriage is my husband didn’t like how often I wanted to make love. I wanted sex a lot, and I though maybe something was wrong with me so I went to a psychiatrist. She told me there was nothing wrong with me because I didn’t get depressed if I didn’t have sex and I didn’t go out looking for men to have sex with. I just like sex a lot. You were here and we were alone and I like you a lot and …”
“So that’s all there was to it – the bikini thing and then last night? You were horny and I was available?”
I saw a tear trickle down Rita’s cheek.
“No. After sitting with you and looking at the stars and hearing about your wife…I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t just about sex after that. It was about just being with you, like we are now. I know that probably doesn’t make any sense. You just think I read it somewhere in a romance novel, but it’s how I feel right now, and after last night, I don’t think that’s going to change.”
It took us seven more days of sailing to reach the Virgin Islands. I’d planned on six, but I hadn’t planned on Rita. The MKII hull is a racing hull, and I was going to keep tuning the sails to take advantage of every breeze. That meant spending full time at the helm and manning the sheets.
I did start out that way after Rita went below to make coffee. When she came back up with a cup in each hand, she was still naked. I grinned and said if she kept running around naked, I was going to have trouble navigating.
Rita sat the cups down, then stroked my back and grinned.
“If I get dressed, I’ll just have to get undressed again, unless you don’t want me again.”
I stroked her inner thigh and then her mound.
“Rita, I’ll want you anytime you want me.”
That’s how six of those days went. Rita never dressed. I’d smooth suntan lotion all over her every morning, no small feat since that only made my cock hard and made it hard to stop touching her, and she’d either sit in the cockpit with me or go up and lay on the bow. Before lunch, she’d nibble my ear and whisper, “Would you set the autopilot again.” The same thing would happen after dinner.
Every afternoon before Rita made dinner, we’d take a shower together to save water. That was fun too. The shower in my head is barely big enough for one person, so with two, it was like our bodies did the scrubbing. I’d always end up with a stiff cock. Rita would laugh and tell me to wait until the sun went down and the stars came out.
The seventh day, we saw another sail on the horizon. It was too far away to see anything except the mainsail even with binoculars, but Rita put on her bikini just in case. We made St. Thomas early that afternoon, checked in with customs, and were cleared to dock and go ashore.
I took a bunch of pictures for my brochures while Rita did a little shopping. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular. She was just getting familiar with the area and finding places a woman would like to visit. It was almost dark when we got back on The Southern Belle after we’d eaten in an excellent restaurant. I took pictures of Rita in front of the restaurant and she took a menu with her when we left.
We spent a week sailing around the islands. Most of the time we just anchored in one of the anchorage spots, had dinner, and then watched the sun go down. There was always one other boat in most places, so we spent the night in Rita’s cabin instead of on deck. Everything else was the same though, except since we were on a bed, we had more room to experiment. Rita loved everything we tried, but her favorites were riding me so I could play with her breasts and nipples or being taken from behind.
By the end of the week, we still hadn’t been everywhere, but I thought it was time to go back home. I knew there would be other trips. I had nothing to tie me to Florida until the main tourist season began again.
Over that week, I’d also come to another conclusion. That first night, the night Rita and I had sex on the stern cushions, I thought I’d just gotten lucky. As the cruise went on and I began to understand Rita more, I realized the sex was just part of what she needed. She needed to know some man thought she was special. As we sailed around the islands, I didn’t have to navigate as much and Rita was wearing clothes, so I had time to think.
I hadn’t been this close to a woman since my divorce, so at first, I didn’t recognize the signs of what was happening to me. The sex was fantastic, and I liked Rita a lot, but gradually, I realized it went deeper than just fantastic sex and liking her. By the time we steered a course for Florida, I’d decided I couldn’t ever leave Rita on shore while I sailed off with a party of clients unless it was just a day cruise. That meant she wouldn’t be in the office to answer any phone calls or open any mail. That was fine with Rita because she wanted to live on The Southern Belle anyway.
The answer to both was easy and ended up saving us money. I bought a satellite phone with worldwide coverage and the ability to function as a normal cell phone if it was within range of a cell tower. It cost me a little over a thousand, but if Rita was always on The Southern Belle, I wouldn’t need to pay for an office and phone and Internet lines there. Calls are pricey, but overall, I still save money. Rita also saved money too, because she didn’t need an apartment anymore.
Rita moved into the captain’s cabin as soon as her lease expired, though she was living on The Southern Belle most of the time before that. It was great during the rest of the summer to just motor out of Estero Bay, set the sails, and point the bow north. We’d sail up the coast, within sight of land, but far enough out Rita didn’t have to wear anything. Sometimes we’d just make it a day sail, other times we’d stop at a marina, spend the night, and then head back home the next morning. By the time the tourist season started, Rita had a tan that wouldn’t quit and she didn’t have any tan lines. She also had learned how to sail The Southern Belle well enough if something happened to me she could sail to the nearest marina.
I noticed another change once we started getting clients on a regular basis again. Once we were on the water, most wives and other female clients had worn either shorts and a top or a conservative bathing suit. Rita always dressed about like that so she wouldn’t look like she was fishing for the male client and irritate his wife or girlfriend. She was still hot, but in a socially acceptable way.
That changed when we took an older couple out for an overnight cruise. It started out like every other cruise. The couple came on board, we motored out to open ocean and then started sailing. I was talking to Jeff, the husband, when I saw Rita and Evelyn, Jeff’s wife, go below. They were gone for almost half an hour and I thought maybe Evelyn was a little seasick. That happened sometimes.
When they came back on deck, Evelyn was wearing a little bikini and so was Rita. Now, Evelyn was no match for Rita. Evelyn was about fifty and had some lumps and bumps here and there, but she was still pretty hot. Jeff looked at Evelyn, choked on his beer, and then grinned.
“Honey, you said you were going to let go, but I didn’t think you meant this far.”
“Rita says I can go farther if I want. Think you could stand me if I was wearing less?”
Jeff’s cock was standing straight out by then, so I already knew what he was going to say. I just didn’t know he’d say it like he did.
“Evvy, if you get naked, you’re gonna get yourself fucked right here in the open.”
Evelyn just grinned and took off the bikini bra, then wiggled out of her bottoms. She looked up at Jeff then.
“Well, are you gonna just stand there with your dick sticking out or are you gonna do what you said?”
Jeff was taking off his shorts when I set the autopilot and went below with Rita. When I closed the hatch to the cabin, I heard Evelyn say, “You haven’t been this hard in years”. I had to smile when he said, “Well, I haven’t seen you this naked in years either.”
When Rita brought me a cup of coffee, I asked her what happened to cause all that. She just smiled.
“Evelyn put on her bikini and asked me if I thought it was too much. I said it wasn’t and that sometimes I don’t wear anything when we’re alone. She looked at me, grinned, and said Jeff would probably like it if I got naked. I just laughed and said I only got naked for you, but she could for Jeff if she wanted.
“She thought about that for a second or two and then asked if we’d mind if she did. I said we were good with whatever our clients wanted to do as long as it was legal.
“They’ve been married for thirty years, and I think things have gotten a little stale. I don’t think they’re stale anymore.”
I figured the same thing because I’d just heard Evelyn moan and then say, “I love it when you lick my pussy.”
Well, evidently Jeff and Evelyn had friends who wanted to freshen up things a little too, and they told them about their cruise. We had several couples that winter who spent the entire cruise naked except for when leaving and entering the marina. Most of the women weren’t bad and a few were pretty great.
Rita and I spent a lot of time below deck during those cruises, but we didn’t make love. We saved that for night and we stayed in our cabin so our clients would have some privacy. Two couples said they didn’t mind if we watched, but Rita didn’t want anybody watching us. When we had a day or two without clients, we made up for it. I’d motor out, set the sails, and sail out into the Caribbean. Rita would come on deck naked and tease me until lunch. I could touch, but nothing more until she stroked my cock through my shorts and then asked me to set the autopilot. If we were spending the night on the water, the same thing would happen after dinner.
Well, it’s July again, and The Southern Belle is running smoothly on a course for the Bahamas. We’re going to sail down, do a little exploring, take some pictures, and then sail back. Rita took a call one day from a woman who asked if we ever cruised to the Bahamas. Rita said we’d be glad to do that, and made a reservation for the day after Christmas. We just need to confirm the charts and what we have to do to go ashore.
It’ll be a three-week cruise with a few days on shore for shopping and sightseeing and it should be interesting. When Rita ended the call, she was giggling.
“You aren’t gonna believe this, but this couple wants to sail to The Bahamas. I said we could do that and quoted them a price. Melody says she’ll send the reservation fee today.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe that? Seems normal enough to me.”
“Well, the couple is Melody and Melissa, and she asked what they should bring to wear. I said they could wear anything they want. That’s when she asked if we minded if they didn’t wear anything. I said no, we didn’t care what they did. Just don’t enjoy yourself too much. I want you all to myself when we leave them on deck by themselves.”
Rita is sitting beside me, naked, and smiling. It’s still early morning, so she’s just getting me ready for what’s going to happen before we eat lunch. I’m already ready. I got that way when I put suntan lotion all over her body.
We’re not married, although she’s a partner in Southern Belle Cruises now so it’s almost like we are. I think Rita’s a little afraid of anything more permanent yet. I’m ready for that to happen and I’m sure it will one of these days. I just have to prove to her that I won’t leave her. I don’t know how I could ever do that and it’s not just that Rita likes sex so much. It’s the way she acts the rest of the time. She’s what I expected a wife would be and not what I got the first time.
She’s become a friend as well as a lover, a confidant I’d trust with anything, and a woman I’m proud to be with in front of anybody. She always blushes when I tell her that, but I can tell she likes it.
If it never happens, if she just wants to live with me, I can live with that. We’ll just keep sailing away, watching the sun sink into the ocean, and then watch the stars twinkling in the sky as we make love on those stern cushions again.