Sail to Despair

"Nat!" Angela growled, as she looked up at the vacant look on the old man's face while he continued to stare back down at her, "Nat...off you go please," she said again, placing her right hand over her breasts in a belated attempt at modesty.

Nat grunted and shook his head as if waking from a trance, "Erm... yeah, okay... okay."

Angela leaned toward the centre of the boat just as Nat stepped past her, his knee brushing against her shoulder lightly. Once he was behind her and back in the cockpit with her husband, Angela straightened back up and lowered her right hand – her breasts were now in full view of the young artist for the first time and a tingle of excitement fluttered in the pit of her stomach at her bold exposure to the handsome young man.

But even to Callum, Angela's breasts looked divine! Although not large by any stretch of the imagination, what they lacked in size, they made up for in shape and obvious firmness. And with her resting back on her arms the two deliciously-rounded orbs barely sagged at all – and to think she was twenty years or more his senior too!

He gulped a couple of times as she sat posing, her back dead straight and her small hands resting on her thighs – she seemed to be purposely holding her shoulders back and taking deep breaths every few seconds as she slowly ran the glistening tip of her tongue over a part of her top lip...

And there was no denying it – there was something about Angela that he found increasingly attractive.

Snapping out of it, Callum looked back down at her breasts with an artistic eye and took in every detail – and as he studied her, he witnessed her brown nipples swell quite rapidly until they resembled large berries, possibly some fifteen millimetres in diameter and quite easily just as long! He noted they had a flattened appearance on the tips where they each had a small indent... And where they sat on her areoles, their diameter was smaller – they were just begging to be plucked – or so he thought to himself!

He was going to enjoy adding the detail to his sketch.

"Ah, Angela... would you mind taking up the pose again please?" Callum asked her huskily.

Angela smiled at the youth and lent back again to resume her former posture – only this time as she drew her knees up, she relaxed and let her right knee fall to one side...

"Is this okay?" Angela asked demurely.

Callum blinked a couple of times involuntarily as he looked over at his subject – from what he could see now he was more that satisfied that he could finish not only the upper body portrait, but because of the way in which her bikini bottoms had now ridden up her cleft, the full-length sketch was going to benefit from some added detail too!

* * *

Well-over an hour later Angela finally rose from posing and turned to face her husband who was laying back reading a book – the autopilot engaged. She was thankful that the old perve Nat was nowhere to be seen – it would appear that he'd lost interest in what was going on upon the foredeck and had gone down below to sleep.

"Hey Honey, he's finished!" Angela called out as she made her way back to the cockpit.

Ross looked up at his wife and smiled – she looked so at ease standing there topless in front of him that he said nothing to the contrary.

"Gee those bottoms are a bit on the rude side, Ange!" Ross commented.

"I know! I think they might actually be a bit too small... maybe?" Angela whispered incredulously, as she peered down at them, pulling a face of mock alarm, "They keep riding up... I think you can pretty much see my lips!"

Ross rolled his eyes and shook his head – she was quite right of course – there was more than just a glimpse of her hairless and noticeably-puffy outer-labia peeking out from the bikini!

"So how'd the young fellow go then?"

"Oh... I guess he could see it all too!" she sighed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes skyward as she attempted to draw the minuscule garment back over her pudenda.

"Hmmm... Right... No, I meant with the portrait?"

As if on cue, Callum stepped into the cockpit and sat down. He looked pooped – windblown, sunburnt and thirsty.

Angela smiled at Callum and quickly stood next to him, sidling up close to the youth and resting her arm casually upon his bare shoulder – she'd made no attempt to cover her breasts and there was an unmistakable look of almost motherly adoration as Callum offered Ross the large sketchpad.

"Crikey! This is bloody brilliant young man!" Ross cried out as he looked at the close up image of his wife, "And it is definitely good enough to have professionally framed!"

Ross carefully folded back the pad and looked down at the second image – the full-length portrait.

"Shit mate, amazing stuff... Not too sure I'll be able to put this up on the wall at home though," Ross said, "Pretty much erotica isn't it?"

Callum had of course completed it as a nude as he'd intended – he'd managed to capture Angela in a different light to that of the topless portrait – that is to say, in the full-length image, Angela's pose looked as if she was about to receive a lover – her lips were slightly parted and her eyes looked directly at you in a sultry manner.

But it was the detail of her nudity that was even more magnificent...

Not only had Callum taken artistic licence in omitting her bikini bottoms, but he had drawn her legs so that her knees were raised and spread apart, her small feet appeared to be resting so that her soles faced one another and your eye was drawn inexplicably to her engorged pudenda that seemed to beckon a waiting lover.

Ross looked at the full-nude in awe – the detail of Angela's hairless vulva was almost picture-perfect. Again some artistic licence showed her inner labia to be larger than what they actually were, and he could just make out what he took to be her clitoral hood peeled back and her nub of erectile tissue almost beckoning to be touched – it too was a little more pronounced than in reality. And he'd drawn her mons veneris without a hair on it, when in actual fact she had a very small strip of manicured pubic hair there, no wider than her ring finger...

In Ross's mind, the youth had captured Angela's inner beauty in the more tasteful upper-body portrait – and even though he had managed a perfect rendition of her breasts and nipples, he was serious about wanting to frame it for his study wall.

On the other hand – the full-frontal was something a young man may masturbate over.

Ross closed the large sketchpad and looked back at Callum, "Yep, very nice job, Callum, very nice indeed... thankyou."

Angela seemed to be leaning against the young man now, and his right arm was around her waist and resting on her hip with his thumb hooked into the narrow band of her bikini. Her bikini had shifted again – and if she wasn't oblivious to it, she was certainly nonchalant that her groin was now mere centimetres away from the side of the young man's face...

If he turned his head toward her, his nose would have just about touched what he had so carefully drawn minus the bikini!

"Honey, perhaps you should wrap your sarong around you now?" Ross suggested, as he handed the sketchpad back to Callum, "I think your modelling is over now, don't you think?"

"Oh Ross, what's it matter now? Seriously?" Angela shot back defensively, narrowing her eyes and pouting with feigned petulance.

"I'll be going forward to fix the anchor winch soon. Honey, I don't think you should be back here like that for too much longer... Nat could stick his head back up at any minute!"

Angela knew Ross had a point of course, and almost begrudgingly, she broke from Callum's grip and withdrew her sarong that was rolled up inside the port rope bag.

Callum watched her as she unravelled the sarong with her back to him – it was the first time he'd had a good look at Angela's butt – and he noticed that her bikini afforded her about as much modesty from the rear as from the front.

Nice rounded bum, he thought, not skinny and flat like a young woman's – no, Angela's unblemished butt was full and provocatively shapely...

He took a few mental pictures of it, just as she wrapped the short, colourful sarong around her body just beneath her armpits. Callum vividly imagined sketching her while she knelt down with her bum in the air – minus her bikini of course. He could imagine her laying with her face on her arms as she pro-offered her naked butt to her lover as he moved in behind her – and he could clearly see her distended pudenda glistening with her juices in anticipation – her smooth flowering petals peeled back in all their glory – bright pink and beckoning – ready to draw in her lover's long, thick shaft...

Yes, he'd like to sketch her like that, he smiled inwardly.

Angela turned back around toward him just as she finished tying the sarong. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders as if to say that her capitulation to her husband's request seemed all a bit silly now.

Only moments from his own lewd thoughts of her, he smiled back with strained innocence – in his mind she now looked just as sexy in the cheap, partially transparent wrap as moments before... and he felt a growing fondness for the older woman.

"Ange, it's going to be dark soon, you'll be on the second watch at 2100 hours," Ross said as he made his way forward with his small toolbox, "Maybe you should get some sleep."

Angela watched her husband move down to the bow and clip on his harness as he sat down to work on the recalcitrant winch with his back to the stern.

Resting her hands on her hips, Angela wiggled her butt from side to side and softly mimicked her husband. "Put some clothes on... Get some sleep! Christ, Callum, anyone would think he was talking to a child!"

Callum chuckled, "You certainly don't look like a child, Angela."

"Thanks young man, I like you more and more," she said with a lilting tone, "Perhaps you would like to keep me company this evening during my three hour watch?"

"Sure!" Callum said without hesitation, "But what would I have to do? I'm not much good with boats you know."

"Oh, don't worry Pet, Interlude practically sails herself!" Angela said as she stepped toward the companionway, "Autopilot on, we might have to trim the sails a few times and then pretty much just monitor our progress in the Log... Stuff like our speed, course and position every hour... Oh, and we keep a lookout for ships too... All pretty easy peasy!"

"No worries then Ange, I'll look forward to it."

"I'm getting something to eat and drink Pet, would you like something too? A beer and a sandwich maybe?"

"You've won me!" Callum exhaled sharply as he watched Angela disappear down below – yes, he was becoming truly smitten.

"Hey Callum, would you come up here for a bit please?" Ross called back, "I need you to hold something for me."

Callum sighed – it was the last thing he wanted to do. "Yep, okay, coming!" he called out. He hopped up and stuck his head in the companionway opening, "Gotta help your husband, back soon."

Angela smiled back at him, "Okie dokie, Sweetie. Careful the grouch doesn't bite you!"

* * *

Nat had been sleeping on the leeward settee – the rattling in the galley had woken him and he tilted his head up and looked back toward the sound. Angela. He sniggered to himself as he watched her busy herself making sandwiches. She'd wrapped her sarong back around herself he noted – but this time it was up under her armpits like a dress, not like a skirt which was how he'd seen her in it before. The frilly edge of the material came to just below her buttocks – he wondered if she was still wearing the little black bikini under it.

"Gonna make me one too, Sugar?"

"Oh Christ! You gave me a fright, Nat, I thought you were asleep!"

"Yeah, was... You woke me ya noisy bitch!" he chuckled.

"Well, Nathaniel, if you talk to me like that again, I definitely won't make you anything!"

"Nathaniel, hey? Smart-arse bitch, aren't ya?" he said in a jesting tone, "Who told ya that? Fuckin' young Callum the cocksucker, I bet?"

Nat swung his legs off the settee and stood up a little shakily – he still wasn't quite used to the motion of the boat when he was down below – actually made him feel a little queasy at times.

He made audible chewing noises as he took a few steps to the galley. "Gis a look at one of them sangas, Luv," he said as he came up behind Angela.

"Go away, Nat, wait until I'm finished would you!" Angela growled as he reached around her to grab one of the ham and pickle sandwiches.

Nat stood close behind her as he stuffed the sandwich in his mouth, "Where're the other two?"

"They're on the foredeck working on the anchor winch," Angela stated.

The galley was to port, so that whilst they were on starboard tack, it was to leeward – Angela could sense the old man slowly moving closer to her with the motion of Interlude until he was actually pressing against her from behind.

"Nathanial, would you please give me some room, I'm trying to make sandwiches here!"

"Orr fuck orf, Angie, let an ol' fella rest a minute would ya?" Nat said, making no attempt to move away as he finished his sandwich.

"So how'd the young fella go with ya picture? All done? Get the details of ya pretty titties okay?"

"Yes, he did a good job, Nat, now please give me some room!"

"I wouldn't mind havin' another peek at your titties, Luv... Reckon it'll be okay?" Nat asked gruffly as he placed his hands around her slim waist.

"Nat, cut it out, please!" Angela growled with a tone of increasing annoyance.

"Tell ya what, even better than a look, lemme 'ave a feel of them puppies instead," he whispered into her ear as his hands crept around the front of her waist and began to move up her stomach toward her breasts.

"You dirty old bastard, get your hands off me!" Angela cried a little louder as she dropped the breadknife and tried to force his hands away with hers.

"Listen, if ya raise ya fucken voice again, I'm gonna smack ya in that pretty gob of yours!" Nat threatened venomously, "And if you wanna scream an' carry on and that fuckin' dickless 'usband of yours comes back 'ere to check out what all the commotion is about, he might just find 'imself swimmin' with the sharks with a spear outta his own spear-gun stuck in 'is guts! Ya got me loud an' clear?"

Angela froze on the spot – suddenly petrified! He seemed to have changed in an instant – was he a total lunatic or something, she wondered? Her heart racing, a dozen flight or fight scenarios went thru her head – the serrated breadknife was now on the sole of the galley by her feet – a small paring knife was within reach but she wasn't confident that she would be able to inflict much of an injury with it on the fit, wiry old man. And if she screamed for Ross, maybe he would carry out his threat – armed with the small spear-gun he would certainly have the advantage...

Angela loosened her tenacious grip on Nat's hands – what choice did she have at that moment, "Oh gawd, Nat, you're incorrigible! Just a quick feel, alright?"

"That's me girl," Nat chuckled, a moderate tone returning to voice, "That's me girl..."

Nat moved his hands upwards in one fluid motion – and Angela grimaced as she felt his gnarly fingers squeezing and rubbing her flesh thru the thin material of her sarong. He worked on her breasts with obvious relish for probably a minute or so – and all the time his face was close to hers as he sniffed her noisily, drawing in her scent and whispering his dirty thoughts.

"Okay, Nat, you've had your fun now... Let me go please," Angela said clearly, trying to sound assertive.

"Fuck orf! I'm jus' gettin' started!" he whispered into her ear, "Ya feel that sticking in ya back don't ya? That's me ol' fella... you've made me 'ard as a fuckin' rock!"

Angela could feel it too – and she closed her eyes at the horrible realisation of what the old man most likely intended on doing to her – her only hope was that either Callum or Ross came back unexpectedly and perhaps used a winch handle to knock the old bastard out before he could get to the spear-gun that lay next to the settee he'd been sleeping on!

"Why are you doing this to me, Nat? We've been good to you... We rescued you... You could have died out there had we not found you! Haven't we treated you well? Why?"

"Coz you're a fuckin' cockteasin' bitch aren't ya... Gettin' around in ya skimpy little bikini... Ya cunt just about hanging a sign out that says 'fuck me boys!'" Nat growled caustically.

"Nat, that's not true... Just because a woman dresses provocatively, it doesn't mean she's making herself available to any man with an erection!" she pleaded.

"Yeah, that's what ya think, hey?"

Nat slipped a hand inside the overlap of her sarong and ran his hand over her quivering flesh until he found her nipple and Angela could feel the tears well-up in her eyes at the coarse touch of his fingers on her sensitive flesh...

"Oh gawd... Careful, Nat... you're hurting me!" Angela cried as she felt her nipple being rolled and pulled between his thumb and fingers, just as his other hand edged down toward her stomach again.

"Nice, Angie... They look good... Feel good... And I'm guessin' they taste fuckin' good too!"

Angela stood trembling with her hands on the edge of the galley bench as the old man fondled her – resistance seemed futile at that moment – it was obvious to her that he was not going to be satisfied with playing with her breasts and when she felt his hand move down over her stomach, she knew what would be next...

Nat ran his fingers along the band of her bikini for several moments, savouring the moment of her capitulation – then he slid his fingers down the front of the tiny garment, feeling the seam where it divided her flesh – feeling the warmth and the dampness...

"Okay...Open ya fucken legs for me... Like ya did up on the deck earlier on when me foot was between 'em..." he growled into her ear, "Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about..."

Angela stood firm – but more like a rabbit caught in the beam of a hunter's spotlight than in an act of defiance. So Nat forced a foot between her ankles and kicked her legs apart some thirty centimetres or so – now his fingers were able to peel aside her bikini and work her flesh open...

"Uuh... uuh... Please... not too rough... Nat..." Angela mewed, squirming from side to side and tensing up as he tried to insert one of his digits inside her vagina, "Owwa... You're hurting... you're hurting me... Uuh...Nat... stop it please... That's enough!"

"Fuckin' tight little cunt, hey? Might be a struggle to poke me big ol' slug up there I reckon!"

Nat couldn't wait any longer – he was going to find out if his cock fitted the bitch sooner rather than later! He quickly removed his hand from between her legs and reaching down with both hands – roughly, he pulled her bikini down to her ankles and lifted one of her feet out of it.

"Oh, please don't do this Nat... Please don't... Can't we work something out? Maybe... maybe I can give you a hand job or something? Maybe... um, maybe I can let you play with my boobs whenever we're alone? Maybe you'd like to suck on my nipples instead? I... I know you liked them... But please don't... please don't rape me...."

Nat said nothing – he merely undid his board-shorts and released his long, thick cock – it had been quite a long time...

Angela felt powerless as he hurriedly manoeuvred her into position – pushing her in the small of her back, he bent her over the little galley bench and roughly pulled up her sarong. He chuckled lewdly as he ran his calloused fingers over her buttocks – his groping of her bare flesh made her skin crawl and at that moment she thought that she was going to be sick...

"Fucken nice arse, hey... No sag or 'orrible pimples or anything... Round an' plump enough, but 'ard too..."