She leaned back into me, her head against my upper chest, her hands still on the rail.
The sun shot down, the early evening still blazing.
“You like it when I touch you here.” I ran a single finger over one of her nipples, my voice low, almost a growl.
She simply nodded.
The dress had buttons from the top downwards. The temptation to undo them wasn’t one I wanted to resist. They were tight buttons to undo, each a struggle. The time it took tortured both of us, our breath becoming heavier, urgent.
Three, then four buttons, and I could push the straps of her dress off her shoulders, exposing her tits to the sea and me. She was a captured sea-nymph from Es Vedra, only I wasn’t sure who had done the capturing.
I pinched both nipples, a little harder than was kind, but her moan told me it maybe wasn’t hard enough.
“You like a little pain.”
Her eyes were full of want, her hands leaving the rail, her arms rising up to move behind her to me, resting them on my shoulders. It exposed her, giving me better access to pinch and strum and touch her perky tits.
“A little. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Because you won’t let me.” I ended my sentence with a kiss to her neck, moving my hand from one of her breasts to her waist and down, pulling up the dress of her skirt, and cupping her ass, my fingers closing in on her centre. “Am I going to find you wet?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still wet from me coming in you?”
“Yes. And from what you’re doing now.”
She wore a thong, just a slip of material that was already damp with her juices. I pushed it aside and slid my finger over her entrance, feeling the slickness grow. I toyed with her clit from behind, light enough to increase her frustration.
“What if someone walks round here?” I needed to remind her of where we were. It was a quiet part of the yacht, nothing set up there and far enough away from the drinks and food and music for no one to pass through randomly.
“They’ll see your hand up my dress.” Her voice was breathy.
I played a finger at her entrance, toying there, pushing an inch up her and stilling it. She bucked lightly against me.
“You want me to fuck you here?”
“Yes.”
I put a second finger to her entrance. She was sopping now, the combination of the tease between her legs and the constant playing with her nipple had reduced her to a cocktail of need and desire.
“I’m not going to fuck you here with my cock. But I’ll let you have my fingers.” I pushed the two inside her, roughly now, knowing she was wet enough.
Her moan was almost too loud, and it went straight to my cock, who wouldn’t be happy that his relief would be delayed.
Her pussy tightened and gripped, my fingers saturated with her arousal. I fingered her quickly, then slowed just before she reached that edge, removing them to rub her clit. Her body strummed, her need to come being vocalised.
This time when I curled my fingers to nudge that spot inside her, I didn’t pull away, my other hand pinching her nipple again, and then her body stiffened, her cry inaudible, and she bucked repeatedly against me, coming hard, her chest heaving.
I waited for her orgasm to subside, her breath starting to return to normal, all the time, pressing hard, slow kisses to her neck, kisses that surprised me.
My fingers were glistening when I moved them from between her legs, and I remembered I hadn’t tasted her yet. She watched me as I sucked them clean, her lips slightly parted.
“You taste good. I’ll have to try more later.”
Her eyes widened. “Later?”
“Let me in your room when we dock back on the island. You have a favour to return.”
