Chapter 1

"Ahoy, the Lady A. Are you Captain Cook?"

I turned to the dock to see who was hailing me. The voice came from a woman, probably in her late forties or early fifties, dressed in what appeared to be upscale tan shorts, open white blouse over a tan tank top, deck shoes and a broad-brimmed straw hat covering shoulder length brown hair with a smattering of silver. With the late morning sun behind her, I couldn't really see the details of her face.

"Yes, ma'am, I am," I responded.

"Is your boat available for hire today?"

"Yes, ma'am, it sure is," I replied enthusiastically.

It had been several days since I had a charter and I was in need of the money. I loved my boat but it took everything I was able to raise to keep it going. I had purchased the 58' 6" catamaran at the end of last season, sinking every penny of a nice inheritance, all of the proceeds from the sale of my small house and still signing a sizeable mortgage. I figured I could make ends meet by working the winter season in the Caribbean islands and the rest of the time in the more affluent resort areas of the northeast states. Still, things had been slow so far and I was glad to get a charter, even if I had to drop my standard rate.

"Good," she replied with a smile. "Consider yourself hired."

She stepped on the gangway, intent on coming aboard. I leaned my mop against the cabin and hurried to the gangway, offering her my hand although she walked steadily down the short access. She almost jumped the last couple of feet, laughing as she landed in my arms. For the first time, I could see she was a strikingly pretty woman.

"Thank you, Captain," she laughed, quickly disengaging herself from me. She put her hand in mine for a quick handshake and said, "I'm Eleanor DuPont."

Noting the ring on her left ring finger, I said, "Very nice to meet you, Mrs. DuPont. Let me show you around." I pointed her toward the four steps down to the main salon. "Will anyone else be joining us today?"

"No, it's just me," she said. "I need a relaxing time to rest and a quiet sail is always relaxing to me."

"Okay. Any particular destination or shall I make the choice?"

"You pick it, Captain. My only requirement is that we get a great view of the sunset this evening."

I showed her four of the five cabins, omitting the one I used in the rear of the right hull. I suggested she take the master stateroom when she wanted to rest below decks and she left her large bag on the bed.

Back on the main deck, she checked out the cushioned bench seats around the aft portion, as well as the various comfortable seats around the pilot area and its opposite side. I pointed out the mats on the sun deck in case she wished to take advantage of the wonderful sunlight we were sure to have. She seemed very pleased with the layout of the boat and its cleanliness.

"I need just a few moments to set our course. Would you like something to drink? I have fresh coffee, orange juice and apple juice. Of course if you'd like something stronger, I would be happy to get that for you."

"Hm, I think just an orange juice, if you please," she answered with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am. Be right back."

I hurried back to the salon and opened the bar fridge. I poured a glass of juice, picked up a freshly ironed linen napkin and took them up where she was sitting on one of the benches.

"We'll get underway in about five minutes. We'll use the motors to get out of the harbor and then raise sails and cut off the engines until we get back to harbor tonight."

"That sounds good, Captain."

Turning to the pilot station, I set the computer to calculate a ten hour sail, since sundown would not be complete until after nine o'clock at this time of year. The course it set was triangular with a relatively short second leg and allowing for a fairly strong wind on the homeward leg.

On my way to the gangplank, I stowed my deck mop and cleaning gear in a locker and pulled in the short plank. At each of the fore and aft cleats, I pulled on the mooring lines until I could flip them off their cleats, then pulled in the lines and stowed them.

Back at the helm, I shifted to reverse and revved the engines just a little to back out of the marina. Once clear, we turned and followed the buoys along the traffic pattern to clear the little cape that provided some weather protection to the harbor. Soon we passed the breakwater, heading east into the ocean.

For more than an hour, she sat on the same bench sipping the juice. I went back and asked if she would like some lunch but she declined, saying she needed to watch her girlish figure, laughing at herself. I almost told her she didn't need to do that because I would watch her figure for her but decided I might offend a potentially good customer.

When I went back to the pilot station, she went downstairs, only to reappear twenty minutes later, barefoot and wearing a beautifully filled-out white bikini. She climbed the four steps to the sundeck and selected the mat on the starboard side, furthest away from the pilot station. However when she lay on her stomach, I couldn't keep my eyes off her slightly broad-beamed bottom, well rounded and firm and oh so inviting.

It didn't take long for me to have a raging hard-on. Nor did it help when she turned over to toast her other side after a half hour. Because of the shifting of the sun, she moved to a port side mat almost directly in front of me to catch more of the sun away from the shade cast by the sails.

The top of her bikini was well filled and well rounded and the view between her legs left little to my imagination with such a small patch of cloth covering the gateway to her delights. I couldn't see her eyes for the dark shades she wore but wondered what the smile that curved her lips represented. I had to duck my head and keep my gaze from her to keep from attacking her. With the boat on autopilot, I just pretended to be occupied sailing the vessel.

When she gathered her towel and book after another half hour and made her way back downstairs, I seemed to be studying the electronic gauges and working the wheel, even though my actions had no impact. I couldn't help but look up at her as she came down the steps.

She smiled at me and asked, "Would you show me how you handle such a large boat by yourself, Captain?"

"Of course."

I went through a short discourse on what each of the controls and gauges were for, showed her how to read our heading and use the wheel to keep it steady.

"Would you let me steer for a bit, Captain?"

"Certainly, Mrs. DuPort," I replied surreptitiously

I flipped off the autopilot and started to move out of the Captain's chair.

"No, no, stay right there," she teased. "I just want to try it for a few minutes to get the feel of how she handles."

I groaned inwardly because, although there was room for her to squeeze between me and the control panel, it would not be without our bodies touching. But before I could reply, she had scooted between me and the wheel, her bottom brushing my crotch all the way. I felt the round mounds of her buttocks pressing against my jewels and quickly my cock was again the raging erection I had worked so hard earlier to quell.

She took hold of the wheel as if she had experience at sailing and although she let it drift a couple of points to port, she soon corrected it and had us back on course. I could have sworn she wiggled her bottom a couple of times unnecessarily but I must have been mistaken.

But no!

She pressed herself backward into me and turning slightly, asked, "Is that for me, Captain?"

"Uh... well, I..." I stammered.

"Speak up, Captain. Don't be bashful. If it is, I'm flattered."

"Well... yes, ma'am."

"Good! I like still being able to do that to a man. So," with two quick moves of her hands, both pieces of her bikini floated to the deck and she rubbed her now naked body against me. "I think we need to do something about your condition, don't you, Captain?"

I groaned. I could just see my charter fee going out the window when we got back to shore and she complained that I had forced myself on her or something. Even the threat of a formal complaint and I would have to forego my fee. But the head on my shoulders was not in control.

I unfastened my shorts and pushed them to the deck, kicking them out of the way. My straining penis slapped her butt and she laughed, squirming, feeling it settle between her legs as it pushed down. She leaned forward, pressing her boobs against the wheel, offering her bottom to full advantage in the confined space.

I carefully worked my tool back and forth in the spreading moisture and my inflated arrow found the opening to her soft pussy, slipping inside. She was rather tight for a married woman and it took me several thrusts to get my whole rod buried inside her. It was a fantastic feeling.

She leaned back, pressed into my form from knees to shoulders and said, "Oh, my, Captain! That feels so good!"

"Yes, ma'am, it does."

"And please don't call me ma'am or Mrs. I like to be called Ellie."

"Yes, ma'am... uh, Ellie. And I'm Tom."

"Good. And Tom?"

"Uh, huh?"

"Please fuck me long and slow. Make it last."

I bent over and kissed her neck just below her right ear. She leaned her head to the left, offering that pretty tan neck for my use and I took advantage of it while starting a slow pumping motion of her pussy. The confined space kept me to short strokes and constantly reminded me to go slow.

Several minutes of magnificence sliding in and out of her velvet receptacle had passed when she looked over her shoulder and said, "Tom, I think you should reengage the autopilot."

I felt like an idiot but reached over and flipped the switch allowing the computer to take over again. Then I slid both hands up her sides, over her stomach and cupped her generous breasts, finding her nipples hard and proud. For several minutes, I kept up my slow short strokes while my hands kneaded her tits, pulling on her nipples, all to the soft moans of a lustful woman.