Colour of the Sun, part 4: Your Touch Has Thrilled Me Like the Rush of the Wind
"Oh my god, I am never eating again." Cosima leans back against me on the sticky vinyl bench seat of our booth. She stretches and takes a deep breath that is cut short by a genteel burp. "'Scuse me."
Giggling, I wrap my arms around her, careful not to squeeze her distended belly too firmly. "You said the same thing last night after our crab bake on the beach, chérie. And yet tonight you still managed to consume a truly heroic quantity of onion rings, fried pickles, cole slaw and — what were those things called, the ones that looked like a pile of hamsters?"
"Hush puppies. Don't pretend that you didn't steal like half of them." I pinch the side of her waist through her blouse. "Hey!"
"I only ate two," I remind her, sweeping her dreads aside to nuzzle the nape of her neck. "And a tiny nibble of that disgustingly sweet concoction you had for dessert."
"Shut up, deep-fried Snickers bars are like totally divine."
"Beurk!" Taking advantage of the cover the plastic tablecloth provides, I slide one hand down her belly to rest on her lap. Slowly I gather the edge of her brief skirt and tease my fingers up her inner thigh, feeling her quads shift beneath soft tender skin. She makes a rumbling sound in my ear, letting her legs part as I move higher. Emboldened, the hissing gasp that escapes her constrained pleasure makes me smile, as does the involuntary jerk of her hips as I stroke the swollen ridges and folds of her sex and tease at the entrance of her cunt. "You're still so wet," I whisper, my mouth teasing the delicate curve of her ear and working its way down her cheek to the slender column of her throat. Having her secretly open to me like this thrills my heartbeat to a racing thrum, making it difficult to breathe.
She squirms, the muscles of her thighs and abdomen tautening. "Completely your fault," she murmurs. Somehow she manages to turn around and straddle me in the cramped space, her knees digging into the seat and her hips grinding her sex against the bulky outline of my cock in my jeans. My clit throbs with every slightest motion. Sliding my hands around, I cup the firm curves of her buttocks, circling and kneading smooth firm warm flesh.
I have a sudden image of taking her in the middle of the pool table, fucking her hard enough to bounce her ass off the slate.
Surely it wouldn't cost that much to get it resurfaced again.
Shaking myself mentally, I come to my senses. The young family in the corner make no pretense about not staring at us, the little kids' eyes round with unvoiced questions. I have never been inclined to put myself on display, much less with this sort of audience.
"Come on," I say, breaking away reluctantly and taking her by the hand to tug her toward the exit. I acknowledge Mike's wink by sketching a salute at him as we pass the bar and then push through the heavy wood door and out into the damp coolness of night.
Our shoes — ringing thump of my boots, lighter slap of her sandals — echo against sun-warped boards as we walk the gently swaying pathway that is illuminated by sodium lamps projecting their cones of greenish-yellow light at regular intervals along the dock. We reach the slip where the Sea Ray cabin cruiser I've rented is bumping gently against its fenders. It's a beauty, with a sleek hull design that muscles through the water powered by huge twin diesels, but right now it's not the boat's performance and features I'm interested in.
I start to head for the forward stateroom but Cosima's hand on my arm halts me. She pulls me into a ferocious embrace, her hand possessive on the back of my neck, the other yanking the tail of my shirt out of my jeans. "I want you to fuck me out here, babe, under the stars," she murmurs, her lips hard on mine, her tongue invading and effectively silencing me by kissing me senseless.
And then she is lying back on top of one of the built in padded benches that surround the aft section. Our clothes and shoes are a crumpled afterthought somewhere on the polished teak deck, all impediment to my proper appreciation of her skin removed. Before I know it, I am kneeling between her legs and guiding my cock into her swollen dripping cunt, a single smooth thrust seating me to the hilt. She groans and pulls me down into a kiss, wrapping her legs around the small of my back to pull me inside her deeper still.
"Aren't you glad I insisted on going shopping in Tampa?" she says breathily, easily finding and matching my rhythm.
Raising up on my elbows, I withdraw all the way out of her, teasing her glassy clit with the fat head of my cock until she is whimpering and beckoning me with the urging of her hips. I bend to kiss her roughly. "I don't need accoutrements to fuck you properly, chérie. But," I easily find her eager opening, "I will admit that I do thoroughly enjoy taking you this way." A vicious snap forward plunges me fully into her, again and again. Instantly we are sheened with rivulets of sweat that has no hope of evaporating in the damp heaviness of the salt air, our bodies arching and clutching, her hips rising up to meet me only to be slammed back down into the bench. Too soon our frantic coupling breaks us with the fury of release, Cosima shuddering and clinging to me as I bolt into her, feeling as though my spine were being ripped out by the roots. Heart thundering, breath rasping, I judder to a halt. My arms and shoulders burn with the effort of keeping my upper body from collapsing atop her. Still lodged deep within, carefully I roll us over so I can hold her without squashing her.
Idly I stroke the long planes of her back with one hand, the curve of her cheek with the other. She leans into my palm, rubbing her face against it like a cat marking its territory. "To hell with Dyad and lab tests and hinky human experiments, babe. Let's ditch that whole shitshow and stay down here. We could steal this boat, take it down to hide in the Out Islands in the Bahamas and just fuck all day until I pass out for good."
Ignoring the pang in my heart, I keep my tone light, trying to match her feckless mood. "And what am I supposed to do with your corpse, hmm?"
"Roll it overboard. Sharks gotta eat too, don't they?"
Despite myself, I start laughing at the thought. Because if I don't laugh I'm going to cry. "So not only would they charge me with grand theft larceny and breach of contract, but I'm fairly certain that feeding your body to the sharks would constitute misuse of company property as well."
She snorts, damping her laugh into the side of my neck. And then her mouth finds mine again and for long minutes we do not move, lulled by the gentle bobbing and rolling of the boat. The leisurely motion causes infinitesimal shifts of my cock within her. Rapidly her desire begins to ratchet higher again, her hips urging mine to rock and plunge harder, faster. I hold still, though, keeping my movements small and making her whine with frustration.
I consider fetching the length of braided nylon rope I'd seen earlier in the day inside one of the aft storage lockers. The cruiser offers many tempting surfaces and tiedowns, and her skin would flush so beautifully if I used the coiled end of the heavy, silky rope as a flogger... But more practical considerations win out: if I give in to my impulse, she would be terribly uncomfortable when we make the trip back to Toronto in a few days, not to mention most of the clothing she brought is too brief to cover up the bruises that would almost certainly result.
Instead, I roll us back over and pull out slowly, her cunt sucking greedily at the broad head of my cock until reluctantly she lets me go with a wet pop. I regain my feet, finding my balance on the lightly swaying deck and giving her a quick reassuring kiss. "On your hands and knees, chérie."
Cosima blinks. Even in the velvet darkness pierced only intermittently by stars and a cloud-shrouded half-moon and the eerie green glow of the dock lights, I can see her eyes grow wide behind the glint of her glasses. She licks her lips and swallows, grinning with the heightened gleam of expectation, then gracefully arranges herself on the bench on all fours.
Standing behind her, I admire the sight of her glistening sex splayed open for me. "Beautiful," I murmur, running my hands along the graceful taper of her torso, over the tempting curves of her ass. Slipping one hand between her legs, I hear the rushed umph of her breath as I circle and tease at the pulsing swell of her clit, turgid and slick with her copious arousal.
I slide my other hand around to stroke the soft flesh of her belly, letting it trail over her taut nipples and back down again. Cupping one breast, weighing its fullness in my palm, I roll the rigid nipple between my fingers, then pinch it hard to hear her outraged howl. Deciding I like the sound, I clamp her other nipple while my cock unerringly finds the weeping entrance to her cunt and fills her completely. I drape myself over her back, my belly and hips and thighs molding around hers in a protective curve, marveling at the sensation of being surrounded so tightly. Kissing the nape of her neck until she shivers, I straighten, never letting up on my fingers' tormenting and beginning a slow rhythmic deep pulse within her.
"Oh, yeah, babe," she gasps, wriggling in a wicked dance that grinds the base of my cock against my aching, throbbing clit. Driving harder, every thrust slaps my hips against her churning buttocks, the wet clasp of her cunt echoed in the lapping of the waves against the boat's hull and along the shore. Trapping her clit between my fingers and fucking it mercilessly, I feel her begin to clutch and shudder around me. I growl with pleasure, loving the abandoned bucking and clenching of her entire body. Her shattering cry rends the darkness as she spasms convulsively around me, writhing and whimpering and helpless to do anything other than come.