Aurora - Goddess of the Dawn Pt. 02

"My old man reckons I'm half fish." Beck smirked, jerking her head trying to dislodge a blockage.

"Which half?" Bragg smiled lamely and his wife glared at him.

Beck bent to scoop up her gear. As she did, a tear in the seat of her bikini bottoms opened up, revealing a glimpse of her firm, tanned, behind. Watson heard Bragg gasp and saw Tanya's eyebrows flicker ever so slightly. No tan marks, Tanya noted, no pale skin. How very interesting. Reaching into a seat locker, she pulled out a fluffy white towel and bundled it into Beck's arms. "Here you go, diver-girl. Dry yourself off."

Beck held the towel up to the light. "Look at this, Damon. It's like the ones we had at that swanky hotel." She looked at Tanya. "Ours are all so worn out they're just about see-through."

"Go on," Watson said dryly, "go ahead and tell 'em how we sleep under newspapers."

"They came with the boat." Tanya said, a little embarrassed. "Keep it if you if you like. There's plenty more."

"Go through their bins while you're at it," Watson carped and Beck stuck out her tongue, "see if you can rustle up some takeaway. Come on," he jerked his head in the direction of the saloon, "we'd better go and pull that engine apart before you start looting the joint."

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

Watson set to work while Bragg looked on, regaling the old man with tales of corporate derring-do; hostile takeovers, hedge fund wars, the cut and thrust of company mergers. Watson worked quietly, methodically, almost frantically, desperate to finish before succumbing to tedium.

It was going to take some doing. All the hoses had to be disconnected, and then the fuel lines, before the injector rail could come off, followed by the head. The water pump impeller was totally shot and no small wonder. According to Tanya, the overheat alarm had been bleating for a good ten minutes before being silenced with the engine still running. The situation didn't look good.

While the dissection was underway, Tanya kept Beck amused in the aft stateroom. By the time she dropped-by to check on the progress, Beck had undergone a makeover. Tanya had brushed out her luxuriant blonde hair, then meticulously painted her fingernails, hot pink on the right, light blue on the left, and painted her toenails bright orange for good measure. Beck looked at her old man, at the perspiration dripping from his chin, at the back of his T-shirt all dark with sweat. "Fixed her yet?" she asked, spreading her fingers to admire her nails.

"Uh huh," Watson nodded, "and it was so much fun I pulled it apart again." He gave her a quick once-over then bent back to work. "Off to a fashion parade?"

"We're doing chick stuff, Damon." Beck sniffed, "You wouldn't understand."

"There is no understanding chick stuff." Watson scoffed, busy un-bolting the alternator. "Except by chicks."

"What have you found?"

The engine's bits were all laid out like surgical instruments on a clean green towel. Bending, Watson picked up a water-pump impeller in a grease-stained hand. In the absence of any water to pump the impeller had self-destructed, shedding its vanes before masticating them into oblivion, and without a replacement the engine was beyond salvage. "Recognise this?"

"Uh huh." Beck nodded. "Water pump."

"Which explains the over-temp." Watson muttered. He looked at Bragg. "Don't suppose you're carrying a spare?"

"A spare? But it's a brand new-"

"Yep, yep," Watson cut him off, "I know, stupid question." He ran a hand over his close-cropped grey pate. "You know, I could swear I've seen one of these in my junk box. If it's not exactly the same then it's pretty damned close. Beck?"

Tanya stepped in. "Damon, it's almost sunset. You've been hard at it all day, you poor man, and this young lady looks like she could use some dinner. How about we give it a break and finish tomorrow?"

Tempting. Watson stood, stiff in the legs from crouching all day in the engine bay. "Do you guys need to move anything into our freezer? Feel free to have a shower as well. We've got a water-maker. There's plenty to go round."

"No, really," Tanya replied, "we've imposed on you far too much already."

"It's no problem," Beck offered, "there's heaps of room in our freezer."

"What about you, Roger?" Watson asked, "Fancy a cold beer?"

Bragg almost swooned. "Seriously? I'd kill for one."

"Beck. Bolt over and grab us a six-pack, would you? If you guys sort out what you want in the freezer we can pass it to Beck and she can load up. There's not much left to do on the engine, Roger. If I can dig up a spare impeller then that's half the battle."

"Jesus, Damon." Bragg said, "I don't know what to say."

Watson raised a hand. "No, no, really, that's okay. Like I said, it's what we yachties do."

Bragg squinted at him, fleetingly confused. "What? Oh, no. I mean the boat. I had no idea the bloody things were so unreliable. A one point two million dollar boat, completely stuffed by a bloody plastic bag. This is an open and shut case of un-merchantable quality. As soon as we get back I'm looking for someone to sue."

Tanya touched Watson's arm. "What he really means is we're incredibly grateful for all you've done. I have no idea what would have happened if you hadn't turned up."

"You'd have to sail?" Beck suggested.

"If we only knew how." Tanya sighed. They'd spent a week on the boat with one of the broker's best skippers. Most of the training involved feasting on mud crab and quaffing French Champagne, between taking business calls on the satellite phone. "Look, Damon, I know it's not much, but we've got some fabulous gourmet freeze-drieds in the pantry- we had them flown-in from Switzerland. Why don't I make us all dinner while you boys have a couple of beers?"

Watson looked at Beck, trying to read her eyes. "How about it, Chook? Dinner with the neighbours?"

Beck nodded. She was hungry for more than just dinner but her tummy was starting to growl. "Sure."

"Outstanding!" Tanya rubbed her hands. "And I'll take you up on the offer of that shower if that's okay. Becky, why don't you go and grab those beers while Roger fires up the barbie?"

* * *

The sun turned to gold on the mirrored horizon, as the four sat lounging in the cockpit of the sixty-foot luxury dud. The food was good but the conversation mostly one-way, issuing from a multi-millionaire lawyer with not enough sense to shut down an overheating engine. Watson kept a close eye on Beck. Far from bored she actually seemed fascinated by these odd, pompous creatures, struggling to comprehend their lives and their lifestyle. The spawn of a cultural antipode, they had fetched up here on a far-flung shore like a boatload of exotic explorers, their talk every bit as unintelligible as their origins. When the beer ran out so did the conversation and, bidding their neighbours good night, Watson and the girl retreated to the familiar surroundings of their own humble paradise.

* * *

Midnight. The yachts, lashed firmly together, snoozed side-by-side under a star-saturated sky, barely rolling in the gentlest of swells. On his back on the V-berth in the forward cabin of his boat, Watson was startled awake by the creak of a floorboard. Seconds later felt the mattress give as forty-odd kilos came on board and a warm, naked body slid over his. Sneaky fingers commenced stroking his inner thigh, moving higher and higher, almost grazing his balls before leapfrogging his cock and landing on his belly. Beck's knuckles brushed the end of his knob and a small, cool hand closed round his growing erection. Lips touched his ear. "You awake?"

"No. I'm fast asleep. What does it feel like?"

Beck didn't answer. Her mouth closed over the head of his penis and her tongue commenced teasing the tip. Hunched over on her knees, she shuffled around to give Watson access to her slick, wet cunt while she licked and sucked, working her magic. He forced his thumb into her, revelling in the tightness of her vagina at one end and the wet, slippery heat of her mouth at the other. She tightened her muscles, trapping his thumb, then arched her back. While she fondled his balls with one hand, the other went to her clit, her fingers strumming the hard little nub. She groaned.

Popping his thumb free, Watson gently stroked her puckered little butthole, then ran his fingers bumping up the length of her spine. After sucking contentedly for a few more minutes, she spat him out and lay her head on his belly. "How about it?"

Watson raked his fingers through her scented, silken hair. "Not too tired?"

Beck shook her head. "For sex? Never. Mind if I light the candle?"

After all this time... still afraid of the dark. "What's the matter with doing it with the lights off?"

"I need to keep my eye on you."

There was a spherical, scented candle on a saucer on the shelf above his bed. Lying on top of him Beck reached out, then flicked-up an orange cigarette lighter and ignited the wick. The tiny flame sputtered and shimmered at first, then settled down to a steady, yellow glow. Task complete, Beck shimmied back down, until her pubic bone bumped into the tip of a fat, throbbing cock.

"How do you want me?" the old man asked, stroking her hair.

Beck looked up with a cheeky smile. "On top. That way you can keep me nice and warm."

She slid off him sideways. Watson rolled to the side and Beck flopped onto her back on the warm spot. "Want a little mouth to get you going?" the old man asked.

Beck shook her head then spread her legs. "No need. I've been playing with my rocket all night and I'm already set for re-entry."

Watson rolled on top of her, supporting his weight on elbows and knees. Her small hands kneaded his butt cheeks, pulling him down. "What's got you so hot and bothered?" he whispered.

"Nothing." the girl lied, then almost as an afterthought said, "I saw Tanya's boobs this afternoon. When she undressed for the shower."

Watson elevated his eyebrows. "Did you now?"

"Uh huh."

"Were they nice?"

Beck looked around as if checking if the coast was clear then her face lit up. "They were gorgeous!" She fell silent for a moment then spoke up. "Know what?"

"What?"

"I think she likes me."

"What on Earth would give you that idea?"

"The way she brushed my hair." Beck said dreamily. "She was kneeling real close, on the bed, right behind me, with her knees either side of my butt."

"Some people have all the luck. I had to listen to her husband banging on. And on. And on."

Beck's hands closed round the old man's shaft, one above the other, and she guided him down until he was nudging her vagina. She was already hot and slippery, fully aroused, and ploughed her furrow a few times before drawing circles around her clit with his tip. "Do you see how he kept on staring at me?"

"Roger?"

"Uh huh. Even with his sunnies on I could tell where he was looking."

"Where?"

"Where do you think?" Beck asked, and in case Watson had any doubts added, "He was staring at my pussy."

"Hmph," Watson grunted, "well you can't fault his taste."

Beck guided his tip to the entrance of her hole. Her pussy-lips parted in greeting and he sank as deep as the flared base of his knob. "He had his hands in his pockets the whole time." Beck said thickly. "I reckon he had a great big hardon."

"Why would he have one of those?"

Beck raised her butt off the bed and gave a little thrust. "Because of his wife? She's pretty hot."

"Or your bikini. Those bottoms are so worn out they're just about see-through

"Really? Do you reckon he liked what he saw?"

"He's only human."

"Yeah, maybe. But he's also filthy rich, with a red-hot wife." Beck said, fishing for compliments. "Why would he bother with me?"

Watson couldn't answer, far too distracted by unfolding events. This part of the process never lost its novelty. One moment he would be butting up against an impenetrable barrier- hot, wet, incredibly soft, yet tight and utterly unyielding- and the next he'd just pop through. And she'd just hold him there, her muscles gripping him like a hot little fist.

"Do you reckon he does?"

"Huh? Does what?"

"Do you reckon he fancies me?"

"What? Yeah, probably. Now be quiet, I'm busy."

Beck wiggled her hips. "Are you jealous?"

"What about?"

"Him. Looking at me. And getting a nice big boner."

"Of course I'm not!" Watson lied. "I don't do jealous. You know that."

Beck drove herself onto him with her hips, taking another inch of his flesh into her body. "Do you think he thinks I'm pretty?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

"For god's sake, Becky! Be quiet!"

"What's up?"

"I am! Up you! Fuck me, baby, that feels awesome."

"Can you feel my insides?" she cooed. "Can you feel how wet and squishy I am? That's just for you."

Watson pulled back until his cockhead fetched up against her outer resistance, then drove down into her. As he settled his weight onto her he felt her ribcage compress under the scant cushions of her breasts.

Eyes closed, Beck arched her back. "Oooo yeah," she gasped, "now that's what I'm talking about."

Watson pulled out again and she met his next thrust, taking him in almost to the hilt. Hooking her elbows under her knees, she pulled them apart. "That's it, Dommy!" she panted, almost hyperventilating, "God I love that feeling!"

The rhythm was gentle at first but gradually gathered pace, until the tip of the old man's erection was banging on the door of Beck's cervix. "Feel that Chook?"

Head back, eyes squeezed shut tight, Beck nodded. "Uh huh. You're nearly there."

"Ready?"

"Go for it!"

The brakes came off. After a couple of minute's furious fucking, Watson's pounding meat and slapping balls had whipped Beck's secretions into a froth, that drizzled over her butthole and seeped under her back. Another wet-spot for the collection. The girl thumped his ribs with a clenched fist. "Harder, Dommy! More!"

Watson transferred more and more of his weight onto her and Beck's knees came up, gripping his flanks. The tip of his cock was nudging a dead end, in the tight pinch between her cervix and muscle wall, an exquisite sucking sensation pulling on the head of his cock. "That's it Becky. I'm all the way in."

"Harder Dommy! Harder!"

"Not sure how much longer I can last."

Beck dug her heels in, spurring him on. "Ohh, fuck Dommy, that's it, I'm cumming!"

The girl's muscles convulsed and contracted, seizing his penis in a tight, velvet vice. Watson pistoned into her for another few minutes, then hesitated for a trembling instant before driving three or four mighty thrusts deep into her hungry flesh. Beck uttered a long, guttural growl. "Aaaaaaaaaah! Fuck... meee!"

Cum boiled out of the old man's balls, erupting in a spurt of hot, thick semen that hit Beck's insides like the jet of a firehose. Her muscles tensed; arms, legs, abdominals, pelvic floor, vagina, all dragging him into her clenching embrace. Shuddering and gasping, they tumbled together over the precipice.

* * *

Tanya sat up, blinking in the darkness. Her husband was on his belly beside her, more comatose than merely asleep, a rock-a-by baby in his gently rolling million-dollar cradle. She desperately needed to pee, but the electric toilet, like everything else, was totally useless until the engine could be restored and the batteries recharged. Slipping from under the burgundy satin sheets, she made her way forward from the stateroom into the saloon, pausing at the foot of the companionway to gather her bearings. Framed by the hatchway, a stunning starscape was slopping lazily from side with the gentle swell. Naked but for her goosebumps, she scaled the stepladder and emerged into the cockpit under a star-spangled sky.

Stepping silently down onto the swim platform, she gripped the handrail and dropped to a squat, manoeuvring her rear out over the water. There was something primal about peeing in the great outdoors, the tickle of the elements lending the chore a delicious frisson. Hot, thick and vaguely fragrant, her stream powered into the ocean, igniting a tiny cloud of bioluminescence at the point of impact. Sweet relief, she sighed. So much better than the boat's electric en-suite, the entire South Pacific her toilet.

Mission complete, she stood in the cockpit, running her hands over her body, revelling in her nakedness and the kiss of the night. And then she noticed it, the tiny, subtle pitching of the boat next door. Enough to cause a shackle to strike the aluminum mast with a minute, metallic, 'ting... ting... ting...' Her dark-adapted eyes could just make the tiniest yellow loom, emanating from a porthole at the front of the neighbouring boat. Having never suffered for lack of curiosity, Tanya crept forward. Crouching, she dipped her head to peer though a porthole, unsure, at first, of what she was actually witnessing. Two rounded mounds bouncing rapidly up and down, just like somebody's butt. She heard a girl's voice. "Harder Dommy! Harder!"

Tanya froze. The fleeting glimpses, the sights, sounds- the realisation suddenly crystallised. That was Watson's ass she could see, in frantic action.

A little hand with hot pink fingernails clawed at his back. "Ohh, fuck Dommy," a young female's voice gasped, "that's it, I'm cumming!"

Tanya's jaw sagged. As clear as a bell on a windless day, she heard Becky growl, "Aaaaaaaaaah, fuck... meee!"

When she tried to stand her legs almost buckled. 'Holy shit.' she thought. Becky. That old man was fucking her. Shaking, she scurried back to the cockpit and swung down the companionway, almost falling. Pushing through into the stateroom, she sat on the bed and shook her husband. "Roger!" she said hoarsely. "Roger, for god's sake wake up."

WILD THING

Tanya was up with the sun. She appeared in the cockpit of her disabled yacht, clad in a miniscule yellow bikini, the crotch barely spanning her generous thigh gap. Perpetually aroused, her nipples were trying to punch their way through the triangular scraps of fabric stretched tight across her chest. The yachts shouldered each other on the rolling, glassy swell, and the air still smelt sweetly of the night. Standing on tiptoes, Tanya searched the boat next door for signs of life.

A movement caught her eye. Twenty meters away, Beck cleared her snorkel with a snort and finned through the water, the rounded mounds of her perfect bottom rocking from side to side. Her backside reared skywards as she jack-knifed, throwing her legs up to the vertical and diving straight down. Seabirds wheeled overhead looking for handouts, then slid away disappointed with none forthcoming.

A good two minutes ticked-by but no Beck. Mounting the cockpit side, shading her eyes, Tanya turned on the spot in case the girl had surfaced somewhere unseen. She had almost completed her orbit when there was a quiet splash, followed by the spout of a snorkel. Tanya waved. "Hey! Becky! Over here!"

Beck shot upright in surprise, then turned on the spot and returned Tanya's wave. Finning quickly to the swim platform of her boat, she hauled-out and sat, pulling off her fins, before ducking under the dinghy on its davits. She stood in the cockpit, mask parked on her forehead, snot and water streaming out of her nose. The waistband of her bikini bottoms sagged low over her smooth pubic mound, the fabric clinging wetly to her nooks and crevices. Her bikini top, two tiny blue-striped triangles plastered flat to her heaving chest, revealed a glimpse of hard pink nipple and lots of brown skin.

"Well, well, well." Tanya laughed, "If it isn't the Little Mermaid. Bit early for a swim, isn't it?""

"Best time to be in the water." Beck replied sagely, squeezing water from her long blonde hair.

"Okay if I come aboard?"

"Of course!" Beck replied, dropping a section of the cable railing and holding out her hand, "You're welcome to visit any old time."