What a late night last night. Arriving after dark at our sailboat docked in the marina. All the back and forth to the car, brining provisions on board – wine, glasses, fruit, milk, bacon, eggs, sandwich fixin’s, pasta, spaghetti sauce, French bread, etc. All the stuff you’d want for a long weekend living on a sailboat. I help you aboard one last time. Our legs are tired and aching, and we’re both worn out from shuttling provisions back and forth. We’re both excited to be alone for the weekend w/o the kids. We’re both too tired to do anything but collapse in each other’s arms in the aft cabin.
I wake up first, as usual and leave you to sleep. Quietly, I fix a small pot of coffee and climb up into the cockpit in my boxers and t-shirt. Its early. No one is on the docks. I can sit and watch the sun come up, it beams light up the steam lingering over the surface of my coffee in its mug. Somehow it smells better here than it ever could at home. My thoughts turn to the stirring noises I hear coming from your bunk. You’re still waking up. I don’t mind the chilly, brisk morning air but I know you’ll complain. I’ll give you my sweatshirt when you come up.
While I wait, I think about our weekend ahead. I map out where we might sail to, up which rivers and to what towns. But I keep coming back to thinking about you. I slip into fantasizing about you. I fantasize about making you comfortable in your sweatshirt and then go through my routine which you know so well – quietly getting the motor running, uncovering the sails, preparing to cast off. Like always, I hand over control of the helm to you as I cast off the lines for you. I help you ease her out of her slip, and guide her carefully out the channel. Moving slowly, we can hardly hear the engine over the gurgle of water running past the hull. We get closer and closer to the ocean inlet. Here the swells grow larger. The motion of the boat more rhythmic. The air warmer. I like to watch the way you move behind the wheel. I see you’re watching me too. We smile at each other…
I raise and trim the sails for you, and the motion of the boat instantly steadies. As I cut power to the engine, our world becomes unexpectedly quiet as she surges powerfully over and through the swells. Our ears adjust. Its warm now and you lose the sweatshirt and sweat pants, leaving on a light-weight pair of shorts and tank top. The only sound now is the wind in the rigging; the gurgle of water along the hull, and gulls-hundreds of gulls laughing in the distance. Nothing left to do but enjoy the ride, keep watch, and admire each other. Mmmmmmmmm.
The sail and helm are perfectly balanced now and require no steering. Its still only 10am. The soft air is perfect. You haven’t made love on a sailboat for ages. Neither have I, but its on both our minds! I know we both remember the time 10 years ago because we’ve talked about it since then. Moreover, I know b/c we haven’t touched each other yet there’s a desperate bulge in my pants. Every move I make in the cockpit to compensate for the motion of our boat has the unintended consequence of stimulating me and making it worse.
Sitting across from me in your sunglasses, sexy tank top and white shorts, I can tell from the bullets under your bra and the way your thin shorts cling to your crotch that you’re smoldering too. We’re done thinking, aren’t we? I kneel in front of you, between your legs. I kiss your knees; the tops, outsides and insides of your thighs; and your exposed belly between your waistband and shirt. I can feel the little microhairs on your skin standing up under my lips with each kiss. Your soft skin is warm, fragrant, smooth…. I smell your excitement mixed w/ my own breath, building just a few inches away… Mmmm, Baby, I want you now…
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