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Sex On The Ocean

man holding woman's hand, love, ocean sex story

Sailing Ocean Sex Story Submitted By Bob

There in slip 23 at the Marina, she sat spotlessly clean and polished with every bit of her sixty-five feet ready for sea; her standing rigging shiny new and tight and her running rigging not yet soiled from use. Her sails were housed in a matching blue boot.

The Varuna is mine, and everything about her is mine. She is my life into which I've invested heavily since my divorce ten years ago. The divorce had taken a heavy toll on me, and my once fun-loving, easygoing, loving personality had been replaced by a desire for solitude.

At first, I shunned friends; then, as I learned to live with my loss, I no longer needed them. My feelings for women had been warped by my ex-wife's infidelity, and I considered them no more than a sex toy.

There were plenty of toys among the student body at the university where I taught. Ten years ago, the Varuna had been just a dream, a dream that took ten years of total commitment to come to fruition. It had become my substitute for a family and social standing after my wife had left me, and so it remained as I amassed the money and resources to bring the dream to fruition.

Then, just eighteen months ago, those amassed resources were invested in a boat - the future Varuna. It would be built to my specifications after a design by a world-famous Naval Architect. She would be a bluewater boat, capable of cruising anywhere in the world safely. She could be operated by a crew of two but had comfortable facilities for a long-distance journey with a crew of eight. As I stood at the head of the slip, I faced a small group of sailors who I had summoned to interview four crew on the Varuna during my planned cruise.

They were an unpromising lot as several had no experience at all; several had the type of personality that seemed to cause problems, and a few seemed suitable enough to consider further. With my decision, I dismissed all but the four suitable candidates who I took to board the Varuna. As they boarded, I saw two of those candidates were close, a couple, and decided to dismiss them. Then, standing before me was Molly Braxton, a tall, good looking blonde woman with a decided outdoor look about her and Tara Goodinoff, a petite brunette with soft hands.

I discussed Tara's small frame and asked if she was up for the job, and she assured me she was and, in addition, would make an excellent ship's cook. So, with a crew of onboard, we got organized and prepared for sea. It took a week of shakedown day cruises for us to learn the character of our vessel and the proper way to handle Varuna.

Our first attempts to sail her were clumsy and awkward as Varuna responded sluggishly, and we learned from our mistakes, but with each day's experience, we got better. It was quickly evident that Molly was a good sailor,' perhaps, better than myself, and we worked well together. Meanwhile, Tara prepared feasts three times a day.

By week's end, Varuna was responding well to our handling, and she ran gracefully, both downwind and close-hauled. Back at the pier, her fenders were carefully placed, and her mooring lines were handled with practiced skill. We were ready for our first cruise. This was the culmination of all my life's efforts for the past eleven years. The boat, the slip, and even the modest home adjacent to the slip were all fully achieved in the manner I had anticipated, and my life was complete.

In anticipation of a summer cruise, Molly searched for crew members from the marinas in the area during the day and returned to stay on the boat at night. It was on our first night ashore that Molly made a shocking revelation, "Don't get any ideas about me on this cruise. I'm not interested in a relationship with the Captain. I'm more into women, while I am bisexual, I consider myself more a lesbian."

Actually, I'd not thought of a woman in eleven years - not since my divorce. Her sudden statement seemed to jar something loose in my thinking that I hadn't experienced in a long time. Molly may be a lesbian, but she was a damn, sexy woman, and I felt my body quicken after she made her statement. The slight feeling of lust felt good, and I allowed myself the luxury of those feelings.

It was Friday, the second week of June, when Varuna moved away from her slip under engine power with a crew of seven to begin our summer cruise. Watches were set and sails unfurled as Molly, and I stood to watch on watch, for a few days, while we trained our crew. With fair winds, we moved steadily, westward across the Pacific. Varuna proved to be a comfortable, dry boat, and Tara prepared delicious meals as we developed our routine.

After a week, I took myself off the watch list, and Molly became the sailing master in charge of the watch and the crew while I navigated and handled the radio and radar as well as updating charts, etc. I often looked at Molly in her shorts and white close-fitting shirts and felt the now familiar tremors of lust, what a shame that no man could enjoy her. She was a very capable mate who could sail Varuna like the best. Her handling of the crew was firm; her instructions concise. There was no denying it, she was hot.

By July, we had re-provisioned with a port call at Hilo and moved north to the Aleutians, where we made many calls at the desolate outer islands and finally to Dutch Harbor where we re-provisioned during an extended port call. It was there that the crew, with the exception of Molly, moved to a hotel ashore for a respite from the cramped quarters of the boat. With re-provisioning completed, we re-boarded Varuna and headed southeasterly to Sitka, where we again made an extended port call.

This time, I remained aboard the boat, as did our cook. It was as we were eating our supper that I noticed Tara seemed to be distressed; twice I saw tears in her eyes. Yet, when I moved the discussion to permit her to talk about her condition, she remained silent. This was a cause for concern as I considered Tara, a friend. Finally, I asked her directly what was wrong and was rewarded with a look that told me I shouldn't have asked.

She spoke, "I was married at nineteen and thought it was for life. I tried my best, but it wasn't enough, and we were divorced." Hearing this, I recalled my own situation and told her of my own divorce and of the hurt and self-incrimination I'd felt. I spoke of hating women in general and of shifting all my energy to getting Varuna and my home, and even as I spoke, I felt the hate and discontent associated with that part of my life dissipate. The years had softened my feelings, and the hate had abated.

Back at sea, we headed southerly again, and by August, we were off the coast of the lower 48. The lives of my crew and me had developed a routine, and life had become pleasant. It had also become boring, and we all knew it was time to get on with our lives. On the 14th of August, Varuna entered her slip, and we were home.

There was no joyous homecoming event, and no celebration as each of us knew that we'd had enough and it was time to get on with life. First to leave were the four men who'd joined our crew last as Molly and Tara remained on board to rig Varuna for an extended port stay and make minor repairs as I moved the ship's provisions ashore.

It was a sad time as Molly worked fast to complete her work and leave, and Tara cleaned the freezer and pantry area and made the galley shine. Having moved the stores ashore, I began touchup painting, etc. Then Molly announced that she'd be leaving in the morning, and I slept ashore, in my house, for the first time since May.

It was early the next morning that I went to start my days work on the boat that I discovered Tara still aboard and already spot painting around the galley. Seeing me approach, she turned and faced me, and I saw deep circles under her eyes that were moist as if she was about to shed a tear.

She spoke, "Thought I'd stay around for a few days and help get the Varuna up in shape if it's all right with you," she said. "You know it's all right, and there's plenty of food in my refrigerator, so you are welcome to stay as long as you like, but we need to talk." I said and waited as she responded, "There's nothing to talk about," she said defensively, and this time I spoke more firmly, "Like hell, there isn't. Something's troubling you, and I want to help," I responded.

Tara poured a cup of coffee and brought out a cinnamon roll for each of us before she spoke. "There's nothing you can do about my problem. I'm just not adequate as a woman." Then the tears flowed freely as she said, "Now, Are you satisfied?" My response was quick as I sought to understand what she'd told me. "What the hell do you mean? You're not adequate as a woman. You look pretty dammed adequate to me." It was I said that I really saw Tara for the first time. Probably 5'6" tall, rather lean with small breasts and a petite face that was surrounded by dark, long hair. Suddenly she looked more than adequate, she looked sexy as hell, and I felt myself wanting her.

Tara began to tell her story in more detail. She had married young and wanted it to be for life, but she found early that she couldn't please her husband. She was unable to please her man in bed, and he had finally told her he'd found a woman who would. Of course, the divorce had been traumatic as Tara felt her inadequacy in addition to her failure to keep the marriage working. She had remained quietly ashamed for several years before meeting Jake, who was immediately attracted to her. They had gone to bed on their first date, and Tara had tried her best but could not please him. Jake had lasted a few days and moved on.

Then, on the cruise, one of the crewmen had propositioned her and she had accepted as they had gone off to the forecastle bunk room and she had tried to please him as well. It had been a hurried affair, and he never approached her again." Then, having told her story, she offered a weak smile, and I proceeded to tell mine which in many ways paralleled her own. It was easy to tell now as my hate and misery had abated, and I spoke dispassionately. When I had finished, I suggested that she remain aboard for a while where we might support each other while we completed the upkeep on the boat.

She rather eagerly accepted my offer, rather more eagerly than I had expected. With the agreement, I moved back aboard the Varuna and occupied the master's cabin. For several days, we worked from daylight till dark on the boat and ate Tara's cooking. Each time I looked at her, I felt the tremors of desire pass through me, and little feelings of pleasure pass over me. At the end of my cruise, my life had ended, only to suddenly take on new meaning as I felt the pangs of wanting someone. I found myself adoring her with my eyes often.

She was a woman that deserved to be adored and when, on occasion, she perceived my covert adoration our eyes met in a friendly communication of approval. After each of those confrontations, my longing took on greater proportions, and I adored her even more. At dinner that second night, I found a reason to move close to her and to touch her arms and shoulders with loving caresses. All this that had transpired had been rather unplanned; rather, a natural attraction between us. That night, in the galley, I began to plan to seduce Tara.

As we sat at the galley table, reading our books, we looked up, and our eyes met as I spoke. "I want you. I want to have you." Then, having said the words, I stopped and reacted in horror. Tara simply listened and replied, "Remember, I told you I'm no good at that." It was then that I finally discovered what I really wanted, "You don't understand. I want your heart and mind and soul, and maybe that's enough, If not, what have we lost?"

With that, she responded in a most serious tone, "I'm not sure I can give you that." So I began my argument. Why can't we be as intimate as if we'd actually had sex by simply being close? What says that we have to go through coitus to be close? What would be lost if we find we can't, and you leave in a few days?

Suddenly, Tara arose from her spot at the table and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. "Why not?" she said, smiling now. Soon, after discussing the more intricate aspects of our new relationship, I asked her to join me in the big bed in the house. The frown indicated that she objected, and I didn't pursue the matter; rather, I went to my cabin, dressed down to my workout clothes, and went to bed where I proceeded to read my book as I awaited sleep to come.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door, and Tara entered. "It's chilly out there. Would you mind if I slept with you tonight? Seconds later, clad in her own exercise outfit, she was under the covers where she proceeded small talk as I tried to read. I turned and kissed her lightly on the lips. It was an unplanned friendly kiss, nothing more.

With morning, there had been a big change in Tara and my relationship. While there was no visible change in our activities, we both felt it. For one thing, I found Tara's long legs protruding from under her shorts, provoking a desire in me when yesterday they had been of no special interest. Today, my eyes often went to covertly observe them. Her breasts, while small, were perfectly formed, and I adored them. Today, it simply wasn't her heart and mind that was in my thoughts.

After a day of constantly more consuming arousal, I found myself back in bed with Tara as the fires of passion burned brightly in me. As I began to read my book in my usual manner, I was suddenly struck with an idea, I rolled and rose up to kiss her squarely on the lips. Expecting rejection, I was pleasantly surprised when she returned my kiss. It was a tentative move on Tara's part at first; then, with experience, she began to kiss me back in Ernest.

As we kissed and played for a minute, I felt a surge of desire and growing intimacy developing between us. Then, it was over as Tara returned to her book without an explanation. A few minutes later, as I prepared to sleep, Tara rolled, rose up, and kissed me in the same manner as we'd just done before. Then, her lips parted, and her tongue slipped into my mouth, and our oral digits met in a dance of passion.

A short minute later, she moved away again as she said, "Did you like that?" and I could only reply, "It was fantastic." She smiled as she turned out the light. The next day, I had to report for my teaching position at the university and left Tara at the boat. She was still in the back of my every thought even under the pressures of starting classes in the Physics department. Having foregone lunch, I was famished when I returned to the boat around 1800 hours to find Tara gone.

As I puzzled over where she might have gone, I heard footsteps on the deck and looked to see her approaching in a dress. I'd never seen her in a dress. She was stunning. As she approached, she said simply, "I hope you don't mind, but I prepared dinner up in your house tonight." As we walked up toward the house, I wondered, "Where is this going, is she finally going to finish what she starts?"

In the house, I found everything neat and tidy, something I'd never worried much about, and the table set with table cloths, napkins, and candles. The aroma of food filled the little house. Wine cooled in the cooler by the table. As I took in the scene, Tara took my arm and directed me to a seat at the table where I soon faced her across the table. "You like it?" she asked, and I responded, "I like what I see," as I stared directly into her eyes.

With that out, eyes met in silent contemplation until I spoke again, "I want you." Having stated my desire, there was another long silence before Tara said, "You know I'm no good at that," and she said it with great resolve as she continued, "I wish I could, but I'm just no damn good at it."

We ate in silence, each of us in our own thoughts, then when the meal was over, I complimented her on the excellent food and the careful preparations she had made; then, apologized for spoiling the mood with my advances. Tara seemed to accept my apology and move on, but the mood that had been between us was broken. We washed dishes and cleaned up as we finished our second bottle of wine, and I suggested that we retire to my cabin on the boat as usual.

Tara resisted, and as I sought an explanation in her eyes, she was drawing me to the master bedroom. Suddenly it dawned on me; as she drew close to the bed, she spoke, "I suppose it had to come to this you've got to fuck me, some compelling force that you can't resist. Well, our relationship changed tonight, and I guess we just gotta' do it. Please go easy with me, though."

As she spoke, I objected. I had no intention of fucking her or of using her, and I sought only our mutual pleasure. Five minutes later, the bed covers had been thrown back, and we lay side by side, naked on the sheet. Tara lay motionless and showing no emotion. I, on the other hand, was becoming excited as I eyed her beautiful features. I adored every part of her with my eyes and found them flawless.

I told her quietly how beautiful she was and how her skin was flawless. She said nothing as I turned to kiss her; instead, she returned the kiss in a rather warm manner. I moved slowly, fondling, caressing, and teasing every inch of her bare body. As I moved, I continued to adore her, and I told her so in words.

After perhaps an hour, we were talking and playing, and trading tongue kisses like old partners. Still, there were limits, carefully set and communicated by her, and those I carefully avoided. Strange, how she had resigned herself to being taken without sensitivity or caring; yet, she had set limits as though she expected a high degree of sensitivity from me. I would not disappoint her.

After a time, I placed my hand gently on her nipple and gently caressed it as I looked into her eyes. There was no sign of rejection, and I was soon toying with her breasts and suckling and kissing them to her great pleasure. Now, confident that she was comfortable with my ministrations, I asked, "You like?" She replied with a smile, "I like." Even with my loving and caressing of her breasts, she lay motionless and seemingly unresponsive. Her body lay inert. Again, having thoroughly explored her breasts, I began to explore the rest of her body with light caresses and touches. This I followed with wet kisses, and I moved ever onwards.

Soon, I'd kissed her stomach and her hips and her legs and even her feet before. Moving upwards, applying wet, sloppy kisses as I went. As I moved upwards, kissing and caressing her legs and inner thighs, I found no resistance, but neither did I find any encouragement.

It was when my fingers passed lightly over her mons that I felt it - a faint sign that she was reacting. It took only a minute or two of kissing and caressing for me to have her labia spread and my fingers between them. I followed with my lips and gentle kisses and licking. The reaction, if any, was mild. Then, with my tongue, I lapped her vestibule and upwards towards her clit, which I'd exposed.

Then, I began to suckle that little man in a boat with a gentle sucking action. As I gently worked the exposed clit, I felt nothing until Tara cried out, "OH MY GOD, YES," and exploded into a seething, writhing sea of emotions. I continued my sucking as she continued to encourage me, "Nobody ever did that to me before. Keep doing that" Suddenly, Tara had become a wildly passionate woman who had been fucked before but never properly fucked before. My course was clear; I continued with renewed vigor and encouragement as Tara became quite vocal. "I want you to fuck me now," she said.

Hearing her words, I continued to use my tongue and hands as I moved beside her. Then, after kissing and suckling her nipples for a moment, I looked into her eyes for confirmation, and there I saw what I coveted. Tara was overcome with lust, and her passions were clearly evident.

I moved over her, then thought better of it and lay back to draw her over me. As I positioned her cowgirl style over me, she seemed uncertain, and I guided her into position with her pussy over my cock. "I've never done it this way before," she said and silently complied with my directions. Then, quite suddenly, Tara seemed to get the idea, and I felt her warm, smooth, pussy walls sliding over my cock.

On her face was a look of pure bliss until I felt my crown against her cervix, and I saw her grimace in pain. She leaned forward and down until her breasts were against me, and we were kissing. "Sometimes, women like it better this way as it gives them more power. It's up to you to make this fun for both of us this way." She replied that she didn't know what to do, and I suggested that if she just relaxed and did whatever she felt like doing, we'd do well together.

So it began. Tara rose up from over me and began to raise and lower her pussy over my cock in a slow rhythm that brought pleasure to both of us. With experience, she brought more pleasure to our act and the knowledge that she was a success. Minutes passed, and I found myself trying to control my excitement and delay my orgasm to coincide with hers. It quickly became increasingly difficult as Tara gained experience and drove my passions higher.

Tara's movements were soon becoming faster and more violent as she approached her own peak over me. She was responding to her body's needs entirely as his passions rushed towards some peak. "Ohhhh, Myyyy Goddddd. I'm doing it." She cried as her orgasm swept over her, and I found myself unable to hold back my own. Together we met in a crescendo of emotions and feelings and needs as I felt myself pouring out my cum into her waiting belly as she rode out her storm on my cock.

After the few seconds of pure bliss, Tara leaned forward to kiss me and lay on my chest, her senses returning to normal, and the incredible intimacy overtook us. Slowly our rapid breathing became slower and regular as the feelings of peace and serenity enveloped us. We lay quietly for some minutes, reveling in our intimacy.

Tara seemed serious as she spoke, "I never knew it could be so good," and I responded that it was unfortunate that she'd found out so late. As Tara lay over me, stomach to stomach, we talked about life and about us as we kissed and played, and I felt my cock begin to grow inside her still joined pussy. Slowly, we became aware of my recovered erection and moved joyfully to enjoy a second round of coitus, one that was now between experienced lovers and filled with new sensations and new experiences.

There was no rush for time as Tara rode me comfortably and well. Then, after some time, we raised our shoulders off the bed and locked our upper torsos in an embrace to enjoy the sitting position. It was a position that made for close communication but poor coitus, one we explored in some detail before moving at Tara's suggestion to roll over where we ended in the classic missionary position.

Looking up at me, she said, "Take me, take me hard. Fuck me till I cum" and, with us still joined congenitally, I commenced my slow coital rhythm. As my cock slid into her waiting cunt I felt it rise up to meet me, and I began to vary my strokes to increase our pleasure. This time, I was nowhere near ready when I felt Tara's approaching orgasm. In fact, she peaked again before I felt my rising flood of sperm spewing forth in response to her third peak.

By this time, it was late, and we were both fatigued by the long day behind us and the good sex we had experienced. We rested a few moments in each other's arms before pulling the covers over us and sleeping. The next day, I survived a day at work to return home, where I found everything neat and tidy. I went to Varuna in search of Tara and found the boat also secure but no Tara.

Then, I saw it, a note on the cabin table. As I picked up the note, I found my hands trembling in anticipation of bad news. The note read,

"By the time you read this, I'll be gone, but I'll be back just as soon as I take care of some personal matters and pick up my personal belongings. Love, Tara"

A few days later, I was reading the newspaper, and on one of the back sheets, I saw an article that caught my eye. The headline read, "Infamous mobster Rodolfo Gooto Slain." and as I scanned the article, it was reported that a woman had gotten past his bodyguards and shot him dead. The gunman then turned the gun on her former boyfriend and left him with a very painful shot in the groin.

The killer, Tara Goodinoff, was apprehended as she was boarding an airplane to make good her escape. Suddenly, I understood Tara completely. I knew the depth of her hatred of her former lovers and could only imagine the rest, but it didn't assuage the feelings I felt for her. Knowing that there was nothing I could do for her, I went back to my old life alone on the Varuna.

It was as I returned with the Varuna to her moorings after a weekend cruise with a charter that I saw her standing on the pier. Tara stood, smiling as she handled the mooring lines, and we made fast. We were alone again on the Varuna. After a brief kiss and greeting, Tara was quick to relate her tail of the happenings after she had taken her revenge.

Her lawyers had made a case with the help of the police and others that she had been hiding out on the Varuna during the summer after her escape from the mob's power and that she had gone back to get her things when they attempted to kill her, she was able to escape but knew she would never be able to truly getaway, so she slipped past the bodyguards and killed him. In exchange for valuable information, the District Attorney agreed that the case would not have to go to trial and the charges dismissed.

As I looked, once again into her eyes, I saw passion as she spoke, "Take me to your cabin and fuck me." My life was once again complete.

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