Gwendolyn, for Christmas

"I'll take off my bottoms..."

"Correct speed to 30 knots."

" Aye, aye, Captain," My instantly nude helmsman pushed the throttles back up to Fairly Fast, her bottoms dangling with her top.

I stood behind her beginning my thankful chore, lotion to her shoulders, gliding down over her pert, gravity defying freckled wonders to oil her belly down to the red forest and returning to cup and rub her until her nubbins stood proud. Looking over her shoulder, I saw that we were on course still, with slight variances when I oiled and lightly pulled her pretties.

Sitting down on the seat behind her, I was level with her soft pale ass, with the elastic marks still showing from her bottoms. It was all I could do. Instead, I did her legs and tops of her feet, anticipating just a bit longer my next step. Another squirt and I was at her thighs, thumbs in her creases, then palming those perfectly round cheeks, kneading out the tense, and enjoying what I was feeling. My hands were getting dangerously close to where I'd visited just last night.

She spraddled a bit more. Her inner thighs got spiffed innocently, my knuckles ever so gently roiled her fur, back and forth. The boat swerved.

"Stay on course helmsman!" I cried. "You'll be relieved shortly."

"Something's interfering with my abilities, sir. If it keeps on I WILL need relief." She looked back at me, trying not to giggle.

I nodded, continuing to ascertain if Gwen's thighs were protected enough. The furrow seemed more parted and obviously needed more protection from the sun's rays. I gently smoothed my hand over the parted lips. The boat heeled to port before returning to heading. Her ass trembled as I took her pearl in my slickened fingers, making a little loop, then dragging down between Gwen's inner lips, just so, then back to tap and squeeze. And again, a little pat on the flower...

"Ooooh! One more time like that please, faster, there, there...YES OH YES!!!"

Boat heeling to starboard, new course, your guess, helmsman absent, orgasm above decks, general quarters. I grabbed her with one arm, wheel with the other, horizon flattening out. The idea of fishing was becoming a bit remote just now.

She pulled my head down, big lazy kiss, grabbing the leviathan lurking in my shorts. "Let's see how good YOU can drive, Cap."

Before we returned to course, my shorts were puddled at my ankles and I was being devoured by a spiffed 50 redhead. It didn't take long. When she does what she does, it's a foregone conclusion. She paused as I was building steam.

"I'm gonna swallow, so don't be dainty. Lemme have it."

Half a minute later I did. I just left the wheel alone while she forcefully emptied me to zero. Standing is hard in such situations, especially when a nuclear bomb has just gone off in your mind.

She eased me down to the seat, resuming miscontrol of the craft. Hell, I didn't care. Here was this beautiful elf at the helm, going somewhat west, what heading, naked as birth after loving on me. Just astounding. Forever and always, my snapshot, her, and crashing over the swells, my whirling head.

"Would you get me a beer? I kinda need to rinse, Sir Come A Lot."

I staggered below, pulling up my shorts.

Gwendolyn and I got dressed before we started encountering other boats, which we came upon soon enough. I ran the lines up the outriggers after baiting mullet on treble hooks to run run ten feet deep. The rod/reels were set and we started trolling, bobbing on the swells.

Gwen was going below to make sandwiches when the first strike happened. The line snapped off the outrigger and zizzed out at right angles to the boat. Gwen grabbed the rod, set the hook and got in the fighting chair, all as if she'd done it all of her life. I turned the boat to keep her line astern.

First run done, Gwen pulled the fish in halfway before it made another run. It jumped out of the water, just like you see on TV shows, six feet of barracuda. I powered up, dragging it, knowing the line wouldn't break, then slowed, allowing Gwen to reel him in and be done with it. In short order, he was alongside and I cut bait. I still had scars from another of these years ago, lots of teeth and not good to eat.

This was a no big fish day. Two more hit the lines. One was another barracuda, the second, a king mackerel. He fought well, but we let him go too. We have a lot of mercury in our ocean life and mackerels soak it up. We headed in and were tied up to the quay as the sun lit a wave of clouds red, orange, then deep blue off to the west. We had to wave off the pelicans at the fueling pump. They were just positive we had a donation for them.

Christmas Eve

We cleaned up, didn't feel like cooking, just tired, we. I invited Gwen to Meyer's, across from the marina, lush setting, comfortable seating and as I remembered, stocked a good single malt.

She gazed over the menu at me, emerald eyes sparkling, full red hair cascading down over her cocktail dress. "Have you been checking your ties for stains since I moved?"

"Absolutely. It's hard to take a man seriously if his tie is stained."

"Ah. What about if the man's sport coat is stained?"

"That's different. You'll have to move back in to help me with that."

She parried. "Sometimes you're SO helpless. I remember, why, just today, " (giggle) "The captain of my boat nearly fell off the bridge during a delivery."

"Oh. That's what that was." Smiling back. "I knew a first mate with the same malady. That happened today too, as a matter of fact." (Laugh)

"I didn't have time to get you anything for Christmas..."

I reached over to her hand, a grin, "You are my Christmas."

She patted my hand. "I miss you. A lot."

The waiter appeared with drinks and got our orders and left.

Gwen tossed her hair back. "Are you a dancing person?"

"Yes. Practice has made me less than perfect, you?"

" Not really. But it would be nice to slow dance a few, wouldn't it?"

After dinner, on the tiled terrazzo, it could have been a Casablanca set. The piano was just inside the doorway of a full moonlit evening. A dozen couples swayed and spun, the night breeze caressing the women's hair, including my Gwen's. The barkeep shook martinis and gentle laughter and exclamations pervaded the surroundings. It was truly a genteel gathering of people enjoying each other.

At midnight, the pianist played, "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." Everyone sang the first stanza. Even the bartender came out, waiters, cooks, everybody. I wasn't alone in looking for the special star. Gwendolyn and I stood hand in hand watching little wisps of clouds gamboling across the Mares of the Moon.

The Next Day

I might have been overserved the previous evening. I don't remember going to bed exactly, however, a girl in shorts and halter top was sitting on the bed rubbing my brow, smiling.

"Merry Christmas. You want me to make you some coffee?" A little peck on my cheek. "Or I can get you some juice."

"Don't know what I want first." I yawned and stretched.

"What's the first thing you DO know?" Early mirth from Miss Early Bird.

"That Jed's a millionaire. What time are it?"

"IS it and you shouldn't care. It's Christmas, silly."

" Then you're my timeless Christmas filly. Scoot, I'm getting up. Shot of vodka in the orange juice, please."

"Aye, aye Cap. By the way, you didn't really have a stain on your coat last night."

She scurried out to the galley while I made for the head, shaking my head.

We went down to Plantation Key for a late lunch. I helped my newly minted captain get us underway and cruised sedately southward, watching the land slowly slip by. Very little watercraft was out and about. The dock at Jackie's was nearly empty. A couple of old salts gawked at Gwen while we ordered cubans and beers, sitting up on high stools. Seagulls wheeled and dipped above our umbrella and a plover ran along on the sand nearby.

We chatted some about her family, Nashville and her growing presence on the internet. She had met a few important people and her star was ascendant. I told myself not to even joke about her returning. The apple cart was rolling just fine.

The store across US 27 was open, so we bought some vittles for later, re-boarded the Galena and embarked. We retraced our route, my youthful captain more confidant, a steadier hand with a promise of better tomorrow.

About that Night

The cold water line for the galley sink had a kink in it and not letting water run through properly. It was more like a dribble. I remembered I'd brought a new line with me and once we tied up, I commenced work, on my back with my head and chest in the cabinet, adjustable wrench my trusty ally.

It felt like my shorts were being unzipped. I couldn't see for the pipes and gloom. There. I felt it again. I couldn't check. Both my arms were jammed in the cabinet, putting on the new water line. The button released at the waistband. Yep. Now I knew. What felt like little birds trailed over the front of my exposed boxers, a touch here, a light scratch there. I spoke to the bottom of the sink. "Someone is being naughty."

A giggle. Little hands opened the flap, releasing my increasing interest. No, not really. I needed to finish, a crick in my neck, just get the wrench on right there...A soft, delicate tongue tip on my sensitive spot. Shorts tugged down a bit. Her hand cupped my balls. A water drop on my nose, couldn't wipe it. I needed to get the wrench to my other hand to turn the.. She had the tip of me in her mouth, swirling, doing that thing she does.

I sighed. "I can't concentrate."

Muffled reply. "Change your focus."

"Lemme out then."

"Nope " (Slurp)

I groaned as she drew in more of me, teasing. Then Gwen changed, running her hands up and down my slickened shaft, patting my balls just so, before resuming her consuming my besieged member. I laid the wrench on my chest in my dark cubbyhole, knowing the sink bottom was inches from my face.

She continued with her torment, oiling my aching staff, whipping it furiously up and down, wetness on my belly, a slick ball massage. Then. Nothing. (???) I needed release, whither she?

I made to wiggle out of the enclosure, only to find my feet had been tied with my shoes on, to something. I could move slightly either way, that's all. I was finally able to turn my head enough to see out of the cabinet in time to see a round ass with red pubes on parted furrow lowering itself onto my cock. She squatted above me, my head barely impaling her as she jacked my oiled manliness, forcing my groans.

She dipped further down, rolling her hips, Gwen's textures tantalizing me on all sides, making me spurt. She stopping, squeezing my base, putting me off yet again. I could hear my own breathing, gasping. Her bottom so beautiful, so sensual as she worked above me, going again, going deeper, please dear God, make it so and in so doing let not my head crown this fixture here under.

The pace picked up. She jerked, a little shiver, a grab on the inside, tightening, tightening still more. "Ohhh!" Gwendolyn broke silence. "Oh,Oh,Oh" More words, unintelligible. I was all the way in now, deeply, so deeply at her ring as I put my arms against the sink as no more could I contain my issue, the roaring in my head, my blood pounding in my temples, her wails heard dimly in my ears. Her hips ceased. The boat rocked. I could hear seabirds again.

Eventually she freed me to emerge, blinking in the twilight, me drained, sink fixed. I shook my finger at her, at a loss for words. We were both bottomless on the floor. Dignity weren't we. She shook her finger back at me. "You've been had, sir. Just the way I wanted you. Told you I was a perv."

"You had some nerve, being such a perv." Me still getting my breath.

"There's a learning curve to being a...."

"OK, OK, you got me. That was the best time I've ever had under a sink."

Wicked grin. "Best time you ever had, ha!"

I nodded. "I'm going to find other things to lay under, see if this happens again."

" Not too soon you. I'm waiting for the adjuster to get here after that one." Big grin. "Lets fish tomorrow. I'll drive and maybe you can hook a sailfish. Sound good?"

"Yeah, but first lets get up. The padding on this floor is just awful."

We had a turkey dinner and veggies that we'd bought at Plantation. Little candles flickered in the galley's booth. I didn't say much while I ate. Repairing water lines can lead to severe hunger. It was warm. A breeze came through the open porthole as we sat there in just shorts. The crooners were on, nonstop holiday favorites as my modern day Joan of Arc kept stealing my carrots, looking truant when I'd catch her, before bursting out, us both laughing.

Not much Later

Frigate birds soared aloft in the returning night winds in our deserted marina, the clouds and contrails streaking golden in the sun's retreat. We watched from our own place in space aloft the flying bridge, arm in arm, a moment's touchstone in an uncertain world. Waves boomed against the breakwater, silvery flashes dazzling as our very own Casablanca moon returned. Below us Burl Ives happily sang, wishing us, and you, a very merry Christmas this year