Chapter 3

I climbed out of the clear, turquoise water and onto my sailboat, tossing my drybag onto a bench in the cockpit. I was anchored just off Radio Beach on Bimini and had swum in with our passports to check in after our crossing. Beth was likely still napping below - we left Miami yesterday and sailed overnight to the Bahamas. I napped off and on and she passed out hard around 3am.

It was a short swim to the beach and a ten minute walk to customs from there. The swim was a welcome way to stay awake for the bureaucratic hurdles. I rinsed quickly and quietly with the swim shower and stripped off my wet trunks, drying off in the cockpit. I do everything I can to keep salt out of the inside of the boat - it makes everything damp and musty.

Creeping below, I saw the curve of Beth’s ass poking halfway out of the sheets and knew exactly the thing to kick off my nap. I spit in my hand and lubed up my swelling shaft with a few tugs as I carefully settled onto the bed behind her. Peeling the sheet away I leaned in and pressed my head between her smooth lips. I slid easily into her snugness and she looked over her shoulder and giggled at me.

“I was trying to pretend but I wanted to watch you,” she laughed, so I swung her leg past me so she was on her back and I dropped down onto her, lips against her ear.

“Morning. We’re all legal-like and we can run amok on the island whenever you want.” Thrust. “After this.” Thrust. “And a nap for the old man.” Thrust. She rolled her eyes at the comment and they stayed back as I continued to piston in and out of her.

She drew her knees up and spread her legs wide to invite me as deep as possible and I held her tightly and ground my pelvis into her clit as I bottomed out again and again. I was able to hold back long enough for her to cum and then I emptied my balls and within minutes we were asleep.

I’d been seeing Beth a few weeks now and things had progressed nicely. I’d poked and prodded at her psyche along with her body, exploring different ideas and sensations. She wasn’t the most ardent masochist I’d ever met, but she enjoyed pain enough that it was pleasurable for me. Better still, she was pathologically eager for my approval and would suffer beyond what she could reasonably endure for me. I hadn’t abused this power yet, but I surely would. That’s the whole point.

Perhaps even more surprising - we got along. As a borderline sociopath, I don’t have much patience with people. They get in my way, make demands, and annoy me. And all of that was true of Beth as well, but to a lesser extent than I expected. We were different generations and didn’t have much in common, superficially, but we enjoyed similar foods and movies. She wasn’t much of a reader, but she was by no means illiterate and could hold up her end of a conversation. We could actually spend a couple of days together without me wanting to murder her - this week would put that to the test though. Still, with any luck there’d be enough to do to distract me and I’d take out any lingering frustrations on her body.

This was Beth’s first trip to the Bahamas; I’d been here a lot and knew Bimini pretty well, though I usually headed farther east pretty quickly. We only had a few days before Beth had to return to work so we’d stay close by. There was plenty to do around here and while the diving wasn’t as good as the out islands, there was some cool stuff for sure.

We were up shortly after noon and I was itching to move.

“Whaddya wanna do first,” I asked. “Food in town? Or quick bite here and get in the water?”

“Let’s grab food and walk around town a bit. I wanna see it and I don’t wanna get burned on my first day.” She was climbing into a gauzy white wrap thing to cover her very abbreviated bikini. It was a good look, but an attractive girl can make a paper bag appealing.

Big hats, shades, and flip flops on, we hopped in the dinghy and headed south along the beach. I pointed out a few points of interest - a couple of bars, an old shipwreck on the beach - and we turned the corner and headed around to the backside of this strip of the island. There were a bunch of places to eat (though most of them served the same fried crap) and this side was usually breezier.

“It’s so ridiculously blue,” Beth said of the water for probably the 20th time. It’s true. And this wasn’t even the best water the Bahamas had to offer.

It was a speedy, short trip and I pulled the dink up to Big John’s dock. I’d been here often enough that I knew the staff, but not often enough that the staff knew me.

I goosed her ass helping her out of the boat and she squealed and took the line to tie up. She was good at taking on small tasks and participating, not needing to be constantly catered to. That princess behavior was an epidemic in Miami.

“OK,” I said. “This place is decent, but you’ve gotta lower your expectations. We eat well in Miami but this ain’t that. There are a couple places around that make ok food for dinner, but during the day, it’s often the same old crap.”

“Noted. Expect disappointment and never be disappointed!”

“Exactly the expectations you have of me!” I said. She punched at me playfully. I get that she thinks it’s flirty, but I was going to have to break her of that sooner than later. I do the punching in this relationship!

Lunch was fine, as expected. After, we walked the Queen’s Highway, kind of the main drag, sometimes holding hands. Casual intimacy builds trust and I’m also man enough to say I enjoy it. Plus, I’m possessive and enjoy showing off my woman. We checked out a few more eateries, giving them a sniff and looking over their menus, then poked our heads into a couple of knickknack shops where she secured a Tshirt for her little sister, and mostly just meandered aimlessly along the island.

There was a bakery that only sold one kind of bread but it was a surprisingly good loaf and I grabbed two. As we walked, we talked about mostly nothing with periods of comfortable silence. I spent a good bit of time watching her take in a new place.

I’ve come to terms with feeling a bit of dad energy sometimes, I suppose. I mostly only date young women and certainly some of what I do is teach them things; not only about pain and sex, but mundane life stuff too. I don’t have kids of my own, so perhaps this is a subconscious outlet for my biological imperative.

“Why do you like to scare me?” Beth asked, hand in mine, looking across the street as we ambled.

“Power,” I answered. “It turns me on to make you feel like you’re in danger and it satisfies some kind of protective aspect when I get to save you from that danger.”

“Ha! That you caused!” She spun on me accusingly with a ‘gotcha’ finger.

“Sure. The mind is a dark and mysterious place,” I said.

“I don’t know why I like it so much, but I do. I’ve been thinking about it a lot on our walk. See?” She reached into her bikini bottoms and dragged out a drooling finger for me. I took it from her and sucked it dry.

“I know. I like that about you. It’s part of what works for us.” I pulled her close and pressed my stiffening cock against her belly.

“What else works?” she purred up at me.

I yanked her off the ground so her crotch was planted firmly against my bulging shorts.

“Your tight little holes,” I grinned at her and she nipped at my lip and hopped down. I drip out positive emotional reinforcement in small doses. She was gonna fall in love with me - maybe already had - but I wanted to modulate the process some.

We spent a couple days at the main island. Visited a couple of restaraunts, snorkeled the Bimini Road, and took the dink a bit south to a cargo ship wreck. A cool spot with a couple of fairly friendly sea turtles. We had plenty of sex, but it was pretty tame by our standards. I had a plan to change that, though.

The morning of the third day, I sailed us south to Gun Cay, a tiny island with a lighthouse and not much else. It had a lot of stingrays in a small harbor and was a popular destination for tour boats during the day, but was deserted by late afternoon. We got there by mid-day and swam with the rays and then got back to the boat as the shadows lengthened.

I’d told Beth we were moving to a quiet place where she’d be able to scream as much as she wanted later and I could tell that got her wound up. I spent the day teasing her with hints and caresses and a few out of the blue, deep, hard kisses and she was practically quivering with anticipation.

“Wait down here while I get things ready up top. And no touching!” I told her.

“Up top?” she gulped. “In the open where anyone can see?”

I grinned at her and headed up with a bag. I unpacked things and prepared some simple rigging. One of the things I really like about my boat is that it has a large, flat foredeck. It’s easy to pack my dinghy up there for longer trips but there’s also lots of room for activities...