Chapter 5

"Is anything the matter, Lynn? You haven't touched a bite of your dinner."

Lynn Shaffer was startled out of her reverie by the smooth voice of Harry Johnson, and she looked up quickly from her plate to his gently smiling face.

"Oh no, Harry, not at all. There's nothing the matter at all. Really. I guess I'm just not very hungry tonight."

Harry smiled at his wife, and Kate smiled quickly back at him, lowering her eyes to her meal.

What's wrong with me, Lynn thought to herself, I've got to pull myself together. She reached for her fork, and made an attempt to eat some of the freshly caught fish Kate had cooked as a special treat for their evening meal.

"Funny," Harry chuckled, "most of the time being on the sea makes people want to eat. I remember one time about four years ago, before I went on my diet..."

It seemed to Lynn that the dinner would last forever. She couldn't keep her mind on the conversation, couldn't keep her thoughts from straying back to only a few hours before, when Hans had taken her so violently, stripping her of her defenses, leaving her ultimately naked to the intensity of her own helplessly aroused passions. She tried to erase from her consciousness any recollection of how she herself had reacted, how she had twisted, bucked, strained to reach that final blistering climax. She tried to concentrate on her feelings of shame, anger, humiliation, at the fact that she had, in fact, been raped...

"... could do that, and go from there to the hotel in Nassau."

Lynn jerked her head up, knowing that Harry was talking to her, not knowing what he had said.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, passing a hand vaguely across her eyes with a nervous laugh, "I was ten thousand miles away. What was it you said?"

Harry stared at her, his face the picture of felicitous concern.

"Are you sure you're feeling all right, Lynn? You look a little pale. Doesn't she, Kate?"

"Yes, you certainly do, dear," Kate said, her eyes assuming the size and softness of the archetypal big sister. "Maybe you want to go lie down for a while. Get off your feet..."

"No, really, I'm fine," Lynn said hurriedly, "I think maybe I got a little too much sun or something..."

"That must be it," Harry agreed, "Listen, why don't you go up on deck and get some air. Kate and I can do the dishes."

"Oh, no, honestly, I'd be happy to help."

"Go on," laughed Kate. "Any time I can get Harry to help with the dishes, it's an occasion. Don't rob me of the chance."

"Well, if you're sure..." Lynn said hesitantly, wanting above all else to escape the suffocating closeness of the small cabin.

"Lynn, if I'm not sure, my wife is," Harry chuckled, and, indicating the dirty dishes strewn across the table, said, "We'll take care of this mess. You go on topside, the night breeze will perk you right up."

Lynn rose, and eased her slim, sinuous hips along the narrow space between the table and her seat...

"Well, maybe you're right. I do feel a little warm. But tomorrow's dishes are mine, all right?"

"You've got yourself a deal," laughed Kate.

Lynn moved up the companionway leading up to the deck, and then turned again to her hosts.

"Really, it was delicious. I'm just sorry I couldn't do it justice."

Harry and Kate said nothing, but smiled affectionately at her, and she turned to climb the short ladder leading out of the confining cabin into the unhindered freshness of the moonlit, Caribbean night.

"Our guest seems to be a little upset about something," Harry grinned and turned to run a hand suggestively up under his wife's dress on one of her fleshy thighs.

Kate twisted herself on the seat, and arching her back to her powerful husband, moaned seductively, "Ummm, baby... She's not the only one."

"Hey, watch it, kiddo," Harry laughed. "What about those dishes we're supposed to be doing?" Kate didn't answer, but instead, smiled and began unfastening the top button on her husband's Bermuda shorts.

Coming up on deck, Lynn could make out the shadowed figure of Hans, the Vera's husky captain, lounging in the back of the cockpit, one muscled arm resting lightly on the wheel, the other slung lazily across the glistening surface of the deck. She thought she could see the outline of a leer on his face, and she knew his eyes were devouring every move of her petite, seductive body. She hesitated, not knowing whether to acknowledge his presence, and then turned abruptly, climbed out of the cockpit, and made her way to the foredeck. She knew she could not allow herself to be alone with the huge, sex-crazed sailor again. She wanted to throw herself on him, to scratch his eyes out of his face, to beat him mercilessly as he had beaten her, but she knew that he was far too strong for her. She quivered with the intensity of her hate for him, and in an effort to still the shaking of her voluptuous body, she sat on the edge of the raised deckhouse, clasped her smooth arms tightly around her small body, and stared fixedly at the faintly glimmering arch of water coursing off the Vera's bow.

Oh Mark, she cried out silently, why did you let me come on this cruise alone? She raised her head to the shimmering stars that filled the night sky, and thought unconsciously of the incredible distances that lay between herself and them, feeling a depth of loneliness she'd never before experienced in her 30 years. The moon gazed impassively down on her through its halo of invisible cirrus cloud formations, racing 24,000 feet above the earth in a frenzied and unseen contest with a silently speeding jet stream. The gentle surface breeze across the slightly chilled night sea played ring-around-the-rosy with her soft blonde hair, and sent a slight chill down her spine, making her close her eyes with an inaudible sigh.

Oh God, she thought to herself, what should I do? What can I do? The lovely young wife knew she couldn't ignore the attack made on her by the Vera's lust-maddened captain. She knew she must tell Harry Johnson, and that Harry must go with her to the police, to make some kind of complaint, to put this sex maniac in jail, or something. She couldn't just let the whole affair pass unnoticed, acting as though nothing had happened. Harry had to be told what kind of man he was employing, warned about the dangers his captain posed not only to his guests, but to his own wife as well.

These thoughts raced around inside Lynn's beautiful head, playing tag all the while with an undefined fear: a fear that to create an unpleasant scene aboard the Vera, to involve the police, to prosecute Hans, would automatically mean publicity. She knew that Harry Johnson was a very private man, and she was terribly afraid that to create any kind of scandal would destroy any willingness Harry had to cement his business deal with her husband, Mark. And that was the most important thing occupying her mind. If the deal fell through now, Lynn knew that it would be all her fault. All Mark's plans, his ambitions, would be ruined simply because his silly young wife had not known how to take care of herself. All his dreams of success would be forfeit, and who knows what effect that would have on their marriage. Lynn knew that she could not afford to create a scandal aboard the Vera, and her mind reeled between the desire to exact some kind of vengeance on the man who had so brutally violated her, and the fear that to exact that vengeance might destroy all chance of helping her husband take the next step upward on his all-important ladder of success.

Lynn lay down on the deck, trying to let the cool night air wash the tension out of her, drain her of the worry, the shame, and above all, the need to make a decision. Her delicate head rested uneasily on the deck, framed between the rail of the ship and the small, open porthole sunk into the teak wall of the raised deckhouse. Her arm hung over the side of the ship, sprayed every so often by the wake created by the cutting edge of the Vera's bow. Her imperceptibly quivering thighs spread themselves slightly, easing the pressure on the two still-swollen lips of her recently violated vagina, and a moist drop of Hans' sperm escaped unnoticed down between her small, rounded buttocks. She moaned, unconsciously feeling the warm, protective arms of her husband encircling her, giving her a security only he could.

Mark, she sighed, I need you here with me. An aching desire filled her breast as her thoughts turned from the torture of her present situation to comforting visions of her husband. Lynn knew she had always needed him, had needed him from the first time she had seen him. That first time at the New Year's Eve party, all their dates together, and that first night when their passionate love for each other had led them to the physical point of no return.

Lynn sighed aloud, remembering with pleasure their first experience of the joys of sexually giving themselves to each other completely. They had come home from an early movie, still tingling from the petting and necking that had occupied most of their attention in the film and in the car on the way home. Lynn had been living at her parents' house, but they hadn't been home that night, and the note they left said they wouldn't be back until very late. Lynn and Mark had sauntered out into the small back-yard, clinging together, rubbing thigh against thigh, shoulder and leg against shoulder and leg. In the back, by the small greenhouse, before either of them knew it, they were on the soft green grass, their shared lust consuming all rationality. Mark was kissing her, his feverish hands were unzipping her dress, tearing off her flimsy brassiere and then his hand was suddenly squeezing and cupping the softness of one of her nakedly-exposed breasts, his lips leaving her mouth to suckle one trembling nipple hungrily. His other hand was still peeling the dress from her hungry loins, down off her writhing hips, down past her moist pubic hair, down her legs, and she... Lord, yes, she helped kick off her restraining silk panties. And then he tore at his clothes making both of them naked, and Lynn gasped at the immensity of his hard-swollen cock jutting so hugely from his loins. Then he was between her legs, on top of her, and her brain was a seething cauldron of uncontrollable desire. She called to him that she was a virgin, but he was beyond hearing, and she... yes, she was silently begging for his huge penis to rip through her hymen and fill her moist pink-rimmed pussy to its fullest, to surge into her untouched young belly, slide through the hair-covered, desire- moistened valley and fill her with his throbbing hardness. She was ready, and her hair flailed around her moaning face, her taut young breasts trembling on her chest as she prepared herself for him, for the first taste of masculine entrance.

And then he was there, his cock roaring up inside her like a rampaging animal, and great billows of intense pleasure swirled through her loins. He heaved and pumped, and she bucked wildly against him, instinctively locking her legs around his churning buttocks and crying out for more, farther, deeper. Finally, with a scream erupting from the two of them together, he had filled her hotly sucking young vagina with boiling, surging spurts of liquid fire in an overwhelming, never-ending flow.

Lynn opened her eyes, surprised to find she was still on the deck of the gently tossing Vera, and not in her own back-yard, lying quietly with Mark in the sudden stillness of their spent passions. She didn't have to look down at her lightly clothed body to know that her nipples were hard now, as they had been on that night, or that her pubic hair was moist from the lubrication which her mental images had caused her quivering cunt to secrete. She was aroused, aroused as she always was whenever she thought about her husband Mark and making love with him. And then the reality of her present position painfully forced its way back into the upper levels of her consciousness, causing her to tense again with the difficulty of her decision.

Should she complain to Harry, force him to do something about the violent attack his captain had made on her? Or would that simply create an impossible situation aboard the Vera, a situation that would antagonize Harry, anger him, make him think twice about conducting a business deal with a man whose wife did not even have sense enough to keep herself from getting raped? Lynn twisted on the deck in indecision. Surely she should have known better than to go with Hans to his cabin, surely she could have done something to stop his crazed attack, unless...

Lynn turned away from the rail, tortured by the doubts in her mind, wracked by the fear that perhaps she had done nothing because she had secretly wanted Hans to take her, had wanted his huge cock thundering up her helplessly gaping vaginal passage, spewing forth its searing load into the deepest part of her soft belly...

God, No! she cried to herself, No, that can't be! It can't! The voluptuous young wife pulled her knees up to her small heaving breasts, trying again to think of her husband, trying to rid herself of the unpleasant suspicions she knew in her heart must be untrue. Gradually the trembling woman grew quieter, the pounding in her breast lessened, and she began to let the rocking of the Vera lull her again into a more relaxed state. She lowered her knees, letting the tension flow out of them with the realization that she hadn't invited Hans' cruel attack, hadn't welcomed it, and, she thought, had only responded in order to lessen the incredible pain he was inflicting on her.

The petite young girl gazed up at the night sky, trying to recapture the feel of her husband's warm body up between her thighs, his head lowered on her shoulder in the aftermath of their passionate love-making. She was aware now of the myriad night sea-sounds that surrounded her on all sides; the gentle swish of the sea as it sluiced past the bow of the Vera, the incessant metallic tapping of the wire halyard against the boat's aluminum flag pole, the hum of the powerful engines below decks. And something else. As she listened, she gradually noticed other sounds, human sounds, voices, coming from the porthole beside her head. Of course. Kate and Harry in the cabin below, washing the dishes from the evening meal. Indistinguishable at first, they became clearer, and if she listened closely she could almost...

A sudden shiver ran down Lynn's spine as she finally realized the nature of the sounds. Unbelieving, she froze in the indecision of whether to run away, to find some secluded corner of the boat where she would not be able to hear, or else stay quietly and avoid discovery. For the sounds she heard clearly now, coming from the cabin below, were the unmistakable passionate cries of two people lost in frenzied sexual abandon.