Chapter 2

"Jerry,

Winter Harbour, Thursday night. Be there!

Brandy"

I must have read that note thirty times before the message sank into my head. Brandy had left without so much as a "Good-bye". Even just a hint of why she'd sailed out of the cove so early in the morning would have made me feel better.

Winter Harbour. Shit, how I hated that place. With the draft of my 32-foot sloop, the only way that I could safely enter or leave that harbour was at high tide, just as it turned. At any other time, the solid basalt reef that protected the cove would rip the keel off before I knew it.

Despite my loathing of that sheltered moorage, I decided that I'd take the chance and go. What's the worst that could happen? Maybe get my heart broken again? As that state was already becoming an ongoing lifestyle anyway, one more round wouldn't be the end of the world.

Besides, there was just something about Brandy Bendall that felt so damned compelling. Her warmth, and something I couldn't label, combined to draw me to her like a moth to flame. Sure, I could forget her, if I had to. I'd been left behind so many times before by other women that it was starting to feel like that was my destiny. It was just that those few hours of feeling connected to another human being, of actually mattering to someone, were as addictive as crack cocaine.

So here I was, standing on the deck, trying to get my head to function again. This girl must have had me under some sort of a spell. I had no idea if the tide was in or out, or even which way it was going. Trying to sail out of there at low tide would be fatal, and I knew it. But the thoughts of being with Brandy again had taken over my sense of reason. I was all set to pull up anchor and leave right then, and to hell with the rocks, the currents, and the dangers!

Those aren't the things that someone who wants to see another sunrise should be thinking. The sea is a fickle mistress. Show her the respect she deserves, and she'll cradle you with warmth and protection; piss her off, and she'll crush you so fucking fast...

It took me almost fifteen minutes to ascertain that the tide was going out, and that I was too late to safely leave. I was stuck here until sometime in the evening, and even then I'd be sailing at night. Not a good idea, especially in these waters. I resigned myself to being held captive until the following morning. That would still give me two days to make Winter Harbour. Plenty of time, I realized, even if I had to make the trip using only the auxiliary engine.

Well, even though I've been sailing these waters for many years, I got impatient by the time the day was winding down. Not "stupid crazy" impatient, but definitely antsy. As soon as the tide was high enough, I fired up the auxiliary and headed out into the channel. There was maybe a couple of hours of daylight left. Not quite enough time to make it to Queen's Cove, but I'd get close. I'd be able to set sail early the next morning, and even if the winds died, I'd still be able to make landfall near Winter Harbour by Thursday afternoon. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for high tide for the leg into the harbour itself. That was assuming that a certain 28-foot sloop was already moored there.

The trip to Winter Harbour was relatively uneventful. Winds were from the south-west at about twenty knots. Just enough to set the spinnaker sail and let Mother Nature do the hard part; put some miles behind me. I probably could have made Winter that night, if it had been necessary. But I learned a long time ago that rushing was the fastest way to get a person in trouble. Knowing how strong that calling to be with Brandy again was, I was already in enough trouble. No sense taking unnecessary chances now.

I slept in the following morning. Maybe it was the gentle roll of the boat as the waves slowly rocked me. Maybe it was that delicious feeling of laziness that a lack of a schedule induces. Maybe it was not having a care in the world.

Maybe it was the dreams of Brandy that kept me in bed. Remembering making love to her on the deck got my cock all excited. Softly stroking myself while those memories drifted around in my head was pure pleasure. The thought of holding her in my arms, feeling the softness of her skin against mine, the swell of her breasts under my hands, tasting the sweetness of her juices as I lay harboured between her silky thighs, having her cunt demand my manhood, sharing our climaxes together. Those were some things that I could really get used to.

But laying at anchor wasn't going to make those dreams come true. There were almost forty miles between me and that harbour. With a decent wind, I'd make the trip in four or five hours. After that, it was a matter of waiting; waiting for the tide, waiting for the sounder to map the moorages. And waiting for a certain 28-foot sloop to arrive. My whole day was going to be a case of "hurry up and wait".

A leisurely breakfast filled in some of the time. Cleaning out the cabin, checking and tuning the rigging consumed some more of it. I hoisted the sails just as the Klayquot ferry rounded the point on its way north. That would make it about noon. Five hours from now and the tide would almost be high enough to scoot straight into the harbour itself, and it would be light enough to find a decent spot to drop anchor. It was that last wait, the one until Brandy was back in my arms, that would fray my nerves like an old piece of manilla rope.

They say that the best plans of mice and men often go astray. In my case, it was any plans. I was close to the half-way point when the wind died. Instantly. I'd been making good time, and it was a gorgeous day. Between the sun and the gurgling of the wake behind me, it was almost hypnotic. I guess I must have dozed off for a bit, because it was the snap of the mainsail luffing that brought me back to reality. There wasn't a breath of air anywhere, and the sea was like glass all around me. In fact, the only thing moving were the gentle roll of waves that had started thousands of miles away in the middle of the Pacific, now preparing themselves to break on the Island's west coast. Unless I fired up the auxiliary, about the only place I was going was onto the beach as those Pacific travellers pushed me in with the tide.

It took a while to convince the little Perkins diesel that it was time to go back to work. Once underway again, I looked at the chronometer in the cabin, only to find that it was almost 4:00 PM. Shit! I still had three hours to go, and that would mean I'd miss the high tide I needed. Not a major set-back, but a damned nuisance. I'd have to anchor outside the harbour, then wait for the morning tide.

The little auxiliary ran best at three-quarter throttle, and that's where I set it. At that speed, I was making a whole six knots, about half what I'd make under sail. The inconvenience was tolerable; the racket from the little engine wasn't. But it did get me to the harbour entrance just before last light.

This was a deep section of water, and it took me four passes to get the Danforth anchor to grab anything. By the time it did, I had almost four hundred feet of anchor line run out. One good gust in the night and it might pull free. There was nothing for it but to plan on an all-night vigil. Once everything was as secured as I could make it, I sat back on the deck, and leaned against the aft storage locker that usually served as a seat. It was the same one Brandy had claimed when she first came aboard.

I must have either dozed off or daydreamed. Either way, I never heard the bump of the skiff as it touched my hull.

"Hey there, stranger" a familiar voice called me. "You hiding out here, or you coming in to keep me company?" I almost jumped out of my shorts!

"Brandy!" I almost screamed my delight. Rolling over to gaze past the stern flag mast, my eyes were met with the prettiest sight this old sailor had seen in a long time.

"Permission to come aboard,, Captain" she requested.

"Permission granted, sailor. Now get your pretty little ass up here, and give me one of those welcoming kisses of yours! And that's an order!" I growled to her, the joy at her just being there betraying my lack of anger and authority.

"Aye, sir!" she growled back, with just as much authority in her voice as I didn't have. "Give me a hand here, sailor. An old broad like me shouldn't have to fight this damned transom. How come you haven't got a swim grid back here for midnight guests to come aboard? Too cheap?" she teased.

She threw me the painter to tie the skiff off, then waited for my arm to help her aboard. As I pulled her up, I kept the momentum going until she was right where I could wrap my arms around her. I imprisoned her soft feminine charms tightly to me. She responded by kissing me passionately, her tongue demanding open passage to the security of the harbour that was my mouth. I felt her exploring every part of me, inspecting all the different textures she'd encountered before. She made accommodation for my own probing tongue. Don't ask me how long we held that kiss. It could have been hours. Maybe even days. No matter how long, it still wasn't long enough.

"I thought I said Thursday night" Brandy whispered as we finally unlocked our lips. "What's the matter, big boy? Couldn't wait that long?"

"Nah. But I was in the neighbourhood, and figured I'd check up on you. Beside, you buggered off without saying fuck-all. What was that all about?" I asked.

"I sailed out on the morning tide, and had a chance to do some research on the way up here. There was no way you were going to wake up, so I left you that note. I see you got it" she explained. "It's not like I didn't try to wake you. Hell, I almost broke my toe, kicking your fat ass! When you sleep, you really sleep! I could have scuttled this tub, and you wouldn't have known a damned thing until you hit the bottom."

She was right. Making love til the wee hours of the morning tends to have that effect on me.

"When's the next high tide? I haven't looked at the table lately. This ain't the greatest place to rely on a hook, is it?" I quizzed the beautiful creature still in my arms. "And where the hell are you anchored, anyway? I scanned the harbour as I came in and couldn't see your boat anywhere." The twinkle in her eye made me realize that Brandy had something sneaky up her sleeve. Getting the information out of her would probably take several threats with a marlin spike.

"Far end of the harbour. There's a big tidal pool back there, and unless they know when and where to get into it, no one's gonna bother me for days." she explained. "But if you have to wait for the tide just to get into the harbour basin, you're never gonna get into that tidal pool. Maybe I should just shanghai you, and we'll leave this old tub out in the harbour itself? I have to rendezvous with the university's tender tomorrow afternoon, but after that... " She left her sentence trailing off. It was what she didn't say that was important.

"You still haven't told me when high tide is in the morning" I reminded her.

"About 6:30," she answered, "assuming I can get your sleepy ass on deck by then. Might have to try and keep you in your pants all night to accomplish that." She stepped back as far as my arms would let her. Looking up and down my entire body, and with that mischievous gleam in her eye, she added, "Nah, that idea sucks. I can't wait that long!"

"Guess that means shore leave has been cancelled, huh?" I quipped. "Tell ya what. You take the midnight watch, and I'll do the second trick. One of us should be awake come sunrise."

"Not if I have my way about it" she returned. "As soon as that sun sinks below the horizon? I'm gonna fuck you senseless, then curl up in these arms of yours and snore my brains out. Shit, that's all I've been thinking about since I left that cove. Must have gone through eight or nine pairs of panties, too. A girl can only stand her unsatisfied pussy being that wet for so long, ya know" she growled in my ear.

I pulled her tight to my chest and kissed her as hard as I dared. She responded with equal vigour, and almost as much strength. Her breasts crushed themselves against me, those turgid nipples that turned me on so much trying desperately to bore right through to my shoulder blades. My cock wasn't too far off being fully erect. Another three seconds would about do it.

"Why wait til sunset?" I wheezed as we finally broke our welcoming kiss. "There's a perfectly good cabin down below, just itching to be educated in the ways of wanton lust. Sunsets take too long this time of year, and I can't be bothered waiting, if I don't have to."

"Tempting," she whispered, "but tonight, I want to swab this deck with our combined juices. I've made love in some strange places in my life, but this deck? God, it's all I've thought about since you came into view tonight. This is where I want to be when we make love, Jerry. To remember that this is where we met, where we became friends, where we made love. If you ever sink this tub, I want a piece of its deck as a memento of the other night. Even if I have to dive down six hundred feet to get it, I want it!" She kissed me softly but insistently, then added, "but not as bad as I want you right now. Damn, you've got me feeling so horny, I'm gonna soak this pair of panties right through in the next ninety seconds!"

"Now, now! We can't have that, can we? Not while all those gawky-eyed tourists over there can still see in this evening twilight" I teased her. "Besides, I haven't eaten all damned day, and my stomach is beginning to wonder if my throat's been cut. Think you can keep your overactive hormones under control until we do something about that?"

With that same mischievous grin, Brandy grabbed my crotch with open fingers. "Fuck the main course! I'm holding out for dessert!" her lust-filled voice declared.

In retaliation, I slid my hand over her Mons, my finger rubbing the outline of her slit. Shit, she wasn't kidding about soaking her panties! Even the denim fabric between her legs was wet! I couldn't believe how turned on that got me. We were about one-and-a-half seconds from ripping each other's clothes off right then and there, gawking tourists notwithstanding.

"I know what I'm having for dessert," I mumbled softly, "Pussy pie. Two helping's worth. But I think we should eat first. Gotta keep my strength up. It's gonna be a busy night, right?" I got a hug. Brandy got her cute little bum lightly smacked.

Standing in front of the galley stove a few minutes later, I felt a pair of arms sneak up behind me and circle my waist. They were immediately followed by a pair of still-hard nipples pushing into my back, and Brandy's warm, moist breath in my ear. It sent shivers all through me, and whatever I was in the middle of immediately went "on hold".

It was also a diversion. As I revelled in the sensations Brandy was eliciting in my body, the button on my jeans mysteriously came undone, and the zipper was seconds behind it. I felt her hand slipping into my shorts as she captured my hard cock in those soft fingers of hers. She began to stroke the length of my shaft slowly, while convincing my pants that they would rather be on the floor than on me. I couldn't argue with her logic.

Turning off the stove, I spun around slowly, bringing Brandy's hand that was attached to my cock with me. She never missed a stroke as she continued to slowly fondle me. I reached up to her breasts, squeezing and pleasuring them, my senses basking in their soft pliability. My fingers drifted back and forth over her erect nipples, completely engrossed with the dichotomy of the difference in textures between their hardness and the supple softness of her orbs. Her deep blue eyes reached out and captured my soul, making me her slave for as long as she wanted. Once she'd garnered that part of me, her lips conquered my own in a deep and delicious kiss that felt intense enough to curl my pubic hair. I opened my lips to her demanding tongue, feeling her claim any salvage rights to what little resolve I had left to resist her. She'd get slim pickings from that claim. I doubt that broke her heart. It sure wasn't breaking mine.