No Tan Lines

"Come into the cabin, take your pills and we then we'll go up on the flybridge and just lie back and look at the stars," he said, and ten minutes later, that was where we were. On the big sunpad in front of the helmstation, leaning back, side by side, a couple of big cushions behind us, and his arm was around me and I was tucked in against him, and it felt as if that was where I'd always belonged.

"It's beautiful," I sighed, looking up at the stars, my head on his shoulder.

"Isn't it," he said. "Sometimes I lie here for hours and just look up at them."

"I could do that," I said, my hand resting on his leg, and I could lie there for hours with his arm around me too, and my head rested on his shoulder, and I closed my eyes.

"I used to do this in the 'stan sometimes," he said, almost dreamily, and I was half-listening, half-asleep. "When I wasn't on, I'd lie there and look up at the sky and over there, everything was so clear when you were up in the mountains. No clouds, no pollution, just the night sky, and the stars were amazing. Never seen anything like it, and I'd just lie there and look at them and all the stress, everything, it'd just fade away."

He was asleep when I opened my eyes, his arm still around me, and I was half-lying on him, using his shoulder as my pillow. There was a big blanket over us both, and it was that grey light that precedes the dawn, dim and pearly, and we were both still up on the flybridge and the night air was cooler, but the blanket kept us warm, and he was warm against me.

He stirred in his sleep, turned towards me, and I turned with him, my head on his arm as his other arm encircled my waist, my back to him, his body spooning me. I was secure in his arms, held, safe, his breath hot against the back of my head, his body warm against me, and I closed my eyes and slept again, smiling.

He was awake when my eyes opened next, and the sun was shining brightly. I knew he was awake. His breathing was different and he was still pressed against me, but tense, not relaxed, and my hand still held his.

I squeezed his hand, lightly. "Good morning," I said, yawning.

"Sleepy head," he said, and I felt him relax against me, and I knew this was where I belonged, and I wondered sleepily if he felt the same way, and his hand squeezed mine back, lightly, and he kissed the back of my head, a quick brush of his lips that I might have imagined.

"That was the best night's sleep I've had in months," I said, rolling over to face him, and it had been, and I felt so alive.

Really alive. Invigorated. Exhilarated, and my arms went around his neck and, without any thought, I kissed him. My lips brushed his, sealed to his, and there was that moment of surprise because I'd been kissed, but I'd never kissed a guy myself, and I'd just done it without thinking, and then he was kissing me back. Really kissing me, and my hands were running over his shoulders, his arms and his mouth was on mine, sealed to mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth, finding mine, teasing me, his body hard against me.

Hard?

Something was hard, and it was pressed against me, and I moaned softly into his kiss, and my old boyfriend had never kissed me like this, possessing my mouth, his tongue teasing mine into his mouth and now it was my tongue that explored, tasted, flirted, and I was moaning into that kiss, clinging to him, pressed against him, wanting more.

Wanting so much more, instantly, and I'd never felt like that, either.

"Jenny," his almost groaned, his lips separating from mine for a moment, and then, as if he was drawn to me, his lips found mine again, one of his hands held the back of my head, his fingers brushed my cheeks, my neck, and I kissed him as a parched hiker drinks water, needing him, wanting him, craving him, unable to stop.

"Ohhhh... ohhhhh..." I sobbed for breath when his lips lifted from mine once more, and I couldn't get close enough to him.

"Jenny," he breathed, moving, easing me onto my back and he was looking down at me, fingers brushing my cheek, brushing my hair back from my face.

"Jenny," he breathed my name and it was like a ripple of calm running through me, relaxing me, soothing me. "Jenny..."

"Dave," I breathed, my lips parting, seeking his again, finding his, and I relaxed as he kissed me, because he was kissing me, long and gently. Teasing kisses now, brushing my lips, tasting me, sucking at my lips, trailing across my cheeks, my nose, my eyes and always, always, my mouth waited for his to return, to repossess mine, and he did, time and time again.

"Jenny, I didn't mean..." he gasped.

"Dave," I whispered, my hands pushing him onto his back and he allowed me to push him back. All the way over and onto his back, and he was looking up at me as I slid over, on top of him. Lying on him, my legs either side of his and now it was me looking down at him, my hands cupping his face, my nose brushing his.

"Dave," I whispered, his hardness pressing up against me so that I shivered with excitement, hot and flowering inside me, and now it was my turn to kiss him, and I did. I kissed him, very very gently, very very tenderly, brushing my lips across his, brushing his lips apart and now my tongue sought his, delicately. My nose brushed his. My eyes looked down into his, and something was happening, and I didn't know what it was, but I couldn't let go of him, or of whatever was happening between us, because whatever it was, it was something special. Something that I needed, and wanted, and I wondered if he felt like this.

I hoped he did.

"Jenny," he whispered between kisses. "Jenny," as if my name was an incantation, a spell, a charm, and I smiled as my nose brushed his, as my eyes looked down into his, because the way he said my name, now I knew, and suddenly I was a feather, drifting in the wind, weightless, and every moment now was magical, and there was nothing but him.

"It's alright," I murmured, burying my face against his neck, kissing one of those scars. "It's alright, Dave. Everything's alright, now."

It was, it was perfect, and in his arms, everything was exactly as it should be, and somehow I knew that, and I smiled as I rested my head against him, lying on him, his body large and muscular beneath mine, and his hands were on my back.

"Jenny, I didn't mean to..." he whispered again, and my finger on his lips cut him off.

"Maybe you didn't," I whispered back. "But you did, and I did, and I wanted you too, and I want to too."

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you," he said, one hand stroking my back, the other cupping the back of my head, and I breathed him in, lying on him. Him and me, and I was in his arms, and it was perfect.

I smiled, a smile he couldn't see. "You're not taking advantage of me," I said. "You're you, and I'm me, and I like you. A lot. And I know you like me, or you wouldn't have kissed me like you did."

"You're just a kid, Jenny, and I shouldn't..."

"I'm eighteen, Dave." I lifted my head, nose brushing his, eyes looking down into his. "I'm nearly nineteen and I know how old you are, and you're not taking advantage of me, and you're going to kiss me again, Dave. Right now."

My lips brushed his, and I smiled as he did. He kissed me, rolling me onto my back and kissing me thoroughly now, taking control, his mouth dominating mine, and I submitted willingly, eagerly, holding him tight, moaning now with rising excitement as those kisses went on and on and on.

His hand cupped my boob, squeezed gently, and I arched my back into that touch, pushing myself at him, body tingling, alive, wanting more, and he was older, he knew, and I knew he knew, and I wanted him to do whatever he wanted, because I knew I'd want it too, when he did it. Whatever he did.

"Ohhhhhh." He found my nipple through my top, swollen, aching, responding to that light touch with a sudden surge of pleasure that pooled at my center and I was so hot, so wet, wanting his hand. Wanting him, and in that moment, I knew there would never be a no, not for Dave, not from me.

"Yes," I breathed, arching, pushing my boob at his hand, wanting his hand there.

"Jenny," he groaned, his mouth lifting from mine, and my hand moved to rest on his where he cupped me, holding his hand there. Pressing his hand against me. "Jenny, we need to stop, I don't want to get carried away, you do things to me...."

"I know," I giggled, moving against him where he was hard, and that movement sent hot little flushes washing through me in gentle ripples and his hands were on my butt, holding me, and we were kissing again. Long slow gentle kisses, his hands on my butt gentle, stroking, holding, exploring, and that hot wet excitement inside me grew and grew and grew.

Until my tummy gurgled, and he laughed.

"You need breakfast," he said. "And your medication."

And just like that, I relaxed, calm again, and I knew that whatever would happen would happen when it was right, for him and for me. Right for both of us, and it wasn't like I was going anywhere, and neither was he.

"Let's take a shower and change and go back to the restaurant for breakfast," I said. My nose brushed his. "I'm feeling a lot better now, maybe we can do something today?"

"Have you ever been snorkeling?" he asked. "I can take you out, there's a shallow bank a few miles off the coast, be a good start."

"Sure, I'd love that," I said. "I can't swim for long though."

"You can lie up here and sunbathe in your bikini," he said.

"Only if you rub sunscreen on me," I said, and all of a sudden he was over me, his weight pressing on me, and I was beneath him, helpless.

"Don't tease me, Jenny," and his lips were brushing my neck so that I shivered. "Not unless you mean it."

"I won't tease you," I said, my hips moving, pushing myself up at him and that was so good. My arms vined around his neck. "Not ever, Dave. But maybe I won't wear a bikini at all."

"Little devil," he said, and I giggled, but I knew I half meant it too.

"Breakfast," he added, rolling off me and helping me to my feet. He went down the ladder first, and I knew he was looking at my butt as I climbed down after him, and I climbed down slowly, because I wanted him to look.

"He's taking me snorkeling today," I said to Aunt Suzy as he finished breakfast.

"Don't exhaust yourself, Jenny," she said.

"I won't," I said. "I'll stop as soon as I feel a bit tired. Is it okay if I bring him back for dinner?"

"Of course it is. You go and have fun," she said, but she had a strange look on her face as I left with Dave, hand in hand.

"It's a lovely view from up here," I said, and I'd gone below, to my cabin, and changed into my new bikini while Dave started the engines up and unmoored us, and I'd made it to the flying bridge just before him. I'd waited, so that I could climb the ladder just ahead of him, and I knew he'd looked, and I was smiling.

It really was a small bikini. Tiny, and back home, or with anyone else around, I'd have been embarrassed. With Dave, I was eager. I wanted him to look at me.

"It is a lovely view," Dave said, spinning the wheel, using the bow thruster to turn us into the channel, and he looked so relaxed and happy. He looked... at me, and he was smiling. "A very lovely view."

If I was a cat, I would have purred, but cats were curious too.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Out here," he said, pointing at the chart on the screen. "There's a reef out here. Great for snorkeling, shallow, only six or seven feet below the surface. Take us about an hour to get out there, we'll tie up to the buoy, snorkel, take a shower, have lunch and head back in."

"That sounds wonderful," I said, and then, reaching out to take his hand. "Thank you, Dave. For everything."

He smiled, then faced forward. "Breaking waves in the cut. Hold on."

"Why's it breaking now? The weather's better than when you took me out before."

"It's a bar, and the tides out. Not as much water over it so the waves are breaking. Plenty deep enough for us to get across, but the bar's a bit choppy. It's pretty calm today, inshore, which is where we're going to be. Waves are only a foot. Offshore it's two feet and glassy. That's good. Very good, but that's a lot further out than we're going."

"Woo hooo," I yelled, as we crashed through the small breakers, but 'No Tan Lines' took them in her stride, powering through them easily and then, outside, Dave powered her up. Her bow rose as we began to plane, riding easily across the small swells, turning to head south east, and I figured that out from the compass without asking.

"Take a look over there," Dave said, pointing. "Dolphins, a pod of them."

"Where?" I asked, standing up, holding on to the grab bar with both hands.

"Look for fins that way," Dave said, pointing again. "Over there, see them now?"

"Oh, wow," I said, seeing the fins now, the streamlined bodies leaping out of the water, curving back down. "There's a lot of them."

"About a dozen," Dave said.

"Can we swim with them?" I asked. "I've always wanted to swim with dolphins." I'd seen a couple at the Marine Park years ago, when I was about ten, and their beauty had stayed with me ever since.

"Most dolphins don't enjoy swimming with people," Dave said. "Get in the water with them and they'll disappear. Sometimes you can slide in and get them to look you over though. That's about as close as I've ever got to them." He grinned. "They might make an exception for you, though. You're better looking."

"Says you," I said, smiling, coz I was enjoying him looking at me, and I stayed standing, holding on to the grab handle, acutely conscious of his eyes, knowing they weren't on the dolphins anymore. Knowing I'd worn the tiniest bikini of the three I'd picked. Again.

"Says me," he chuckled, not even pretending not to look. "And I says you better put some sunscreen on too, or you're going to burn. Here." He passed me a bottle of SPF25.

"I come with a natural tan," I said. "I never burn."

"Trust me," Dave replied. "Out here, in the sun, even if it's winter, you'll burn. Put it on."

"Somebody will have to do my back," I said, taking it from him with one hand and sitting back down, squirting some onto one arm and beginning to spread it over my shoulder and down to my wrist.

"Sure," he said, smiling, watching me as I did my other arm and started on my stomach and everywhere else that bikini top didn't cover.

"I'm putting her on autopilot," he said, fingers flying on the controls. "That's it. She's going to steer herself for the next half hour." He leaned back and propped up his feet on the dash, watching me as I spread sunscreen over my legs.

"Do you need to put some on?" I asked, offering him the bottle.

"First thing I did, while you were changing," he said, taking the bottle anyway. "Stand up and slide over here, I'll do your back."

I stood, I slid, I shivered with excitement as he squirted sunscreen on my shoulder blades, his hands wiping it across my back, spreading it, rubbing it in. My shoulders, my upper back. More sunscreen and my lower back. He hesitated.

"Everywhere," I said, those butterflies multiplying into a cloud, and still he hesitated.

So did I, in my mind anyhow, because earlier, early this morning, I knew he could have gone much further with me than we had. Much much further. As far as he wanted to go, and he was so much older than me. He knew exactly where to go if he wanted to go there, and that was the moment when I knew I'd go there with him, if that was what he wanted.

"Please," I added, turning around, and now my hands held his shoulders rather than the grab rails and he'd taken his shirt off, so that my hands rested on his skin, feeling those firm muscles, feeling that tracework of scars under my fingers as well as seeing then. I took the sunscreen from him, squirted it into one of his shoulders, then the other, placed the bottle in the cupholder in the arm of his seat, and began spreading the sunscreen over his shoulders and his chest, and yeah, wow. He had muscles that I'd only ever fantasized about seeing on a guy, let alone rubbing sunscreen over them.

Some of the guys at High School, the ones who worked out or were on the swim team or who played football and did weights, they were toned and built like Dave, but they'd been jocks. They didn't have his calm maturity, they didn't have his patience or his caring. They hadn't been interested in me either, the nerdy Chinese girl, but Dave was, and I smiled, my cheeks burning pink as I caught a glimpse of his physical reaction, and I looked up again, right away.

"You do like me, don't you?" I asked, my nose brushing his, and standing, I was the same height as he was sitting in the helm seat.

"Yes," he said, his eyes looking back into mine, unflinchingly. "Very much." He hesitated. "Maybe more than I should, Jenny. You're..."

"Only eighteen," I said, smiling, my lips brushing against his. Lifting, brushing again. "Guess what, Dave." Now it was me that hesitated. "I'm eighteen, I'm almost nineteen, Dave. I'm not a little kid."

"You're going to be in Grade Twelve in September," he said, but his hands were on my hips, and I smiled.

"If I hadn't been in hospital, I'd be half way through Grade Twelve now, I'd be a freshman at College in September, and I'd be leaving home then," I said. Although maybe I'd have gone to the local University, because it wasn't bad, and they had the program I wanted to do.

"I'm eighteen, Dave, and I like you a lot." My lips teased his, my eyes half closed, the tip of my tongue traced across his mouth, and his lips parted, his head moved.

"You're far too young for me," he groaned, but his lips brushed mine.

"You're not too old for me," I whispered. "And I know how old you are." Twelve years older than me, and it didn't matter at all. It was perfect. He was perfect.

There was an instant where neither of us moved, and then his mouth took possession of mine, and he was kissing me. There was no question now about who was kissing who, and these weren't those delicate, gentle kisses of the early morning, and now I was getting what I'd wanted. He was kissing me, and he was in control, his lips locked to mine, his tongue deep in my mouth, exploring, tasting, taking, and I surrendered my mouth to him completely, in an instant.

Not just my mouth.

In that moment where his mouth possessed mine, I melted against him, my arms around his neck, body against his, and his hands moved on me. One hand sliding up my back, the other splayed across my butt, large, firm, strong, knowing what he wanted. Firm masculine strength, and he crushed me to him. Against him, my boobs pressed against his chest, and where he was hard, he pressed against my stomach, so that I shuddered with excitement and with rising flood of desire.

His desire was hard, rigidly hard where he pressed against me, and where he pressed against me, my bikini left me exposed, and there was only the thin nylon of his swim shorts between us. My boobs were separated from him by the equally thin material of my bikini top and my nipples were swollen, aching, asking for nothing more than to be crushed against his chest.

"Mmmmmm." I moaned softly, into his mouth as his hands held me close, held me tight, crushed me to him, and for the first time in my life I experienced that rampant male desire, a desire that left me limp and hot. A desire that filled me with my own hot slippery need, so that my hips twitched, moving me a little against him, and that little was enough to make me aware of my own slippery excitement, my own swollen sensitivity.

"Jenny," he gasped, his mouth lifting from mine, and mine searched blindly for his, wanting nothing so much as for his mouth to seize mine again as he held me crushed to him.