Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Interracial, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Readers of 'Grumpy Old Man' have asked for the story of Denise and Joe's honeymoon cruise, which I skimmed over in the original story. Here it is, presented as a 'Serendipity Chronicle'. Almost as important, if not more so, are the crew of Serendipity, Nadiya and Charles (CC), from 'Pippa', who have important decisions to make.
Charles Collin's mobile phone rang as he watched his girlfriend helm Serendipity towards the entrance to Harwich Haven. They were stealing a few days sailing over Easter before sitting exams in May and June. CC would be taking his Law finals, Nadiya, at eighteen, her A levels. He never tired of watching the petite blonde, standing confidently at the wheel, obviously enthralled with the whole experience. They had, having met aboard this very boat a little less than three years previously, developed their skills until he had his Offshore Skipper certification and Nadiya the Coastal Skipper.
By the time he got the phone out of its protective pocket, it was silent, but the number was logged. He recognised it and pressed the call-back. A woman's voice, Dublin Irish accented, answered.
"Hey, Eva! It's CC. You called me?"
"CC! Thank you for calling back. Jim asked me to call you to ask if you would be interested in a charter over Easter Week."
"Oh ... but I'll need to ask Pippa if she's okay with it. And Nadiya, of course."
"Of course." The amusement was clear in her voice. "Don't you think Nadiya should have come first?"
CC chuckled, recognising there was no way he'd win on that score. "Maybe. But Pippa does have a half-share in Serendipity. Nadiya just has a whole share in me."
"As it happens, Jim asked Pippa first, but she's working on Reminder as Mate and didn't want to give it up. I think she's got her eye on the new Skipper; he is quite a hunk."
"Oh, well. I expect she knows what she'd doing. I gather she split up with Nate when he went to Birmingham instead of UEA."
"Um, yes. But I never got the impression she was ... y'know ... um... committed to Nathan. Not like you and Nadiya."
"No." CC paused, wondering whether to say anything else about Pippa, but decided against. "I'll talk to Nadiya. What's involved?"
"Pick up at Ipswich wet dock Saturday teatime. One couple, Mister and Missus Quenton, it's their honeymoon. One week cruise. He's a small-boat sailor, whose boat was destroyed a few months ago, she wants to experience something that's important to him. I hope you can do it."
"His boat was destroyed?"
"Yeah ... remember the fire at the sailing club? Some vandal got in to the compound, broke in to some boats, and burned Mister Quenton's sloop to the waterline."
"I did hear about that. In fact I remember that little boat; he had it looking nice. I'll talk to Nadiya." He cut the connection and stowed the phone away.
"Talk to me about what?" Nadiya was still giving full attention to sailing the boat, but it was clear she'd overheard at least some of the conversation.
"It'll wait until we're anchored, Sweetheart."
They anchored on the Shelf, opposite Felixstowe container terminal and gave Serendipity plenty of chain before the business of stowing sails and tidying up. They had the kettle on and a pan of stew on the stove before Nadiya spoke again.
"Talk to me about what, CC?"
"It was Eva Preston. She said Jim asked her to call me to see if we were up to taking a charter, starting Saturday." He went on to give all the details he had. "So, I said I'd ask you how you felt about it. It's our break, after all, and you know we don't really need the money."
She pursed her lips, thoughtfully. "Hmm. I don't think I mind ... except ... will it affect us ... I mean," her eyes were twinkling, and she raised an eyebrow without completing the sentence.
"Well..." the young man smiled, drawing the word out, "they're a honeymoon couple, so I don't suppose they'll be very interested in what we do, as long as we're professional about managing the boat. Besides, I'm not interested in spending a week on board without molesting your sexy body..."
She tried to stay serious, but he could see the laughter in her eyes. "I suppose you were hoping to molest me this evening? Were you going to let me eat my supper first?"
He closed the gap between them, took her head gently between his hands and bent to kiss her. "I think I can restrain myself that long. I think."
She giggled, returned the kiss with interest, then stepped back and turned serious. "I love you ... you know that?"
"I know that. And I think you know I love you too."
"I do. That's why I trust you, and can joke about something that's not a joke to me normally. I ... I once thought I never would be able to ... you know ... give myself ... to a man. Willingly."
CC remembered the terrified, battered and abused young girl who had stowed away on board that very boat, almost three years previously. The girl ... who had looked at him, and seen a ... man. One of the gender that had, over two years, raped and abused her in every way possible. Now, however, her look was wholly of love, mixed with trust.
"Well, pretty lady, I think I can restrain myself until we've eaten. After that ... who knows?"
On the whole, it's not very practical to cook gourmet meals on a small yacht; the oven – if there is one at all – is usually small, and conserving the bottled gas is a consideration. Their meal of hot stew, bread and hot tea, with date-and-walnut cake to finish off, was satisfying, warming, and easy to prepare and consume. They tidied up, washed up and put the dishes and pans away, completed their pre-bed routines, and met in the master cabin, aft of the centre cockpit, just after eight in the evening. CC found Nadiya trembling with pent-up passion as he entered the cabin. He'd barely closed the door behind him when she leapt at him, arms so tightly round his neck he was a little worried for his breathing, especially as she fastened her lips on his.
Suddenly, though, she released him and stepped back. After a pause that seemed endless, but was really only seconds, she slowly began to strip off the clothing that was designed for comfort and protection, rather than appearance, until she stood, slim, pale and lovely in the dim light. "Do you remember ... our first time? Right here?"
He nodded, though she probably couldn't see. "I'll never forget it."
"You have too many clothes on."
Her words broke the spell that was holding him still, and he began to strip with a sailor's economy of movement. They both heard, and ignored, the heavy thrum of a passing ship's diesel engines as they moved together to kiss again, softly and sensuously that time, but they couldn't ignore the rocking of their boat as the passing ship's wash hit them, and they fell tangled together onto the bunk. As Nadiya was on top of the pile, she had the greatest freedom of movement and twisted to engulf his – painfully hard – cock in her mouth. Whereupon he seized her hips and lifted her over his face. Being so much taller than his petite girlfriend, a certain amount of contortion was required before his tongue could taste her pussy, but he knew what to do and rolled them onto their side so he could arch his back.
He knew that his willingness – his desire – to taste her had enormous significance to her; far beyond any simple stimulation. It had been, and continued to be, a symbol of his love for her; his acceptance of her and his belief she was pure, despite the way she'd been treated. She responded by orgasming almost immediately and, careful not to hurt him, locked her jaw so as not to bite. Normally, her oral skills – learned in a very hard school – would have had him coming quickly, but she was so lost in her own sensations her co-ordination had gone. It didn't matter; her scent, her taste, her response, everything about her and their position, had him coming anyway, her swallowing reflexive.
They lay in much the same position, breathing hard, until he began to get hard again, whereupon Nadiya squirmed round to kiss him. He'd got used to the taste of his own semen on her tongue, recognising that as part of the gift they gave each other, part of his desire to please her as she pleased him.
"Ya tak tebya lyublyu," she sighed, laying on top of him, rubbing her hard-nippled, firm, neat breasts on his chest. Though now fully fluent in English, she still reverted to her native Russian at times of passion.
"I know. I love you, too ... very much."
"Ya nikogda by ne mechtal ... takoy radosti." (I would never have dreamed ... of such joy)
"I want you to be happy ... as happy as you make me."
A few contortions and she sat up astraddle him and sank on his resurgent erection. Took his hands in hers and pressed them to her breasts. Began to rock on him.
His hands roamed over her perfect curves and he began to thrust up. Their movements sped up, became almost spasmodic, until they came together. As so often before, she flopped down, still impaled, resting on top of him, sighed in satisfaction, closed her eyes ... and slept. He pulled the duvet over them both and lay revelling in the sensual pleasure of her body on his in the aftermath of their coupling. Thinking. Wondering. His parents barely tolerant of the girl he loved so much and wanted to be with for ever.
When CC woke in the morning, he was alone and aware of the dried secretions on various parts of his anatomy. Now, on the east coast of England, it's rarely what you'd call warm. Even when the temperatures are in the twenties Celsius, there's often a chilly breeze. At Easter ... March or April, the weather can be anything between winter and summer. On that occasion, it was about average for the time of year. In other words, chilly. But he braced himself, slipped out of the bunk naked, and made his way as quickly as possible to the heads, via the saloon. The hatch was closed, because Nadiya had lit the fire as she prepared breakfast in the nude. She handed him a large flask with a smile.
"Hot water, for a wash."
He bent to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head to make sure it was her lips he contacted.
"Morning breath," he gasped, as they separated.
She shook her head. "You should know by now, never be afraid to kiss me."
What could he say? He just shook his head and went to wash. When he got back, he asked with a theatrical leer, "You want to stay here all day?"
"Well..." she drew the word out with a cheeky smile, "that's very tempting, but I thought we were here to sail. High water's about two, and there's a decent force four south to southwesterly expected. Leisurely sail up the Stour on the tide and we can moor at Mistley, do a little shopping, walk around, that sort of thing. I'm thinking, if we're taking that couple sailing, they're probably going to want to sail unless the weather turns really bad." She frowned, thoughtfully, "Which it may well do. What is it you say? Murphy's Law?"
He laughed. "Murphy's Law, Sod's Law, Finagle's Second Law..."
"Second Law? What's the first?"
"I never asked. I think it's a joke, actually. Seriously, though, you've got a good idea there. We'll be stuck until mid afternoon tomorrow, though, unless you want to get up really early."
She stepped up to him, took his face in both hands and pulled him down to kiss him again. "I don't think there's any rush, is there?"
He reached out to rest his hands upon her shoulders, then stroked down to cup pert breasts, to brush erect nipples with his thumbs. She gasped.
"Why didn't you come to wake me up? Or to get your clothes?"
"I didn't want to disturb you ... and if I had, I'd have been back in bed with you."
She covered his hands with her own, and pressed them against her. "Now?" She giggled. "Now, I think we've time to go back to bed. For a while anyway."
They finally got away after two rounds, breakfast and another careful wash, at about eleven in the morning. It's about ten miles from Shotley Point to Mistley and Serendipity was never a fast boat, so they were tying up about two, having sailed on a close reach all the way until the cardinal buoy half a mile from the quay, where they used the engine rather than struggle to beat in the narrow fairway. A walk included the purchase of the makings of a slightly more complicated supper than usual, including, unusually, a bottle of inexpensive wine.
As they made love ... again ... Nadiya sensed that CC had something on his mind. Had sensed it before, in fact.
"CC, I think something is troubling you?"
"Yes ... no ... maybe..."
"Do you," she hesitated, "wish to part? I will not hold you?"
He was almost glad of the dim light in the cabin, so he couldn't see the fear in her eyes. "No! Nothing like that, darling. I'll tell you about it, but I'm not ready just yet."
She relaxed and snuggled into his arms, content for the present. It was Wednesday evening.
They left Mistley at three-thirty the next afternoon, to anchor on the Shelf again overnight, then sailed up the Orwell on Friday, to lock in to the wet dock at the top of the tide and take a visitor's berth at Neptune Marina. That gave them Saturday to provision the boat and prepare for their guests.