Chapter 4

Kelly brought out plates of salad, rice and fish, then went back for a bottle of wine; not something we'd had before. We ate in silence and drank most of the bottle of wine; Kelly got rather giggly. When we'd finished, she took the plates and glasses back to the galley, left them there and came back to the cockpit.

Taking my hand, she said, "Come along. The dishes will keep 'til morning, for once," and tugged me to my feet. She led me to my cabin and proceeded to remove the few items of clothing she was wearing. I switched on the cabin light and she covered herself as well as she could with her hands for a few seconds, then let them drop to her sides. She was trembling. "I want you to take me now. I want to be yours."

In the cramped space I was only inches away from her and reached out to place a hand on each shoulder. "You don't have to do this."

The expression I interpreted as 'fear' was replaced by 'sadness'.

"You don't want me. You do think I'm ugly." A tear trickled down one cheek.

"You are wrong," I told her, "both ways. I just think you're scared. I don't know why."

"I am scared. Scared you won't want me. That I won't be good enough for you. That you will send me away."

"I'm scared too, Kelly. Scared you will leave me."

"But why would I do that?"

"Only one woman has ever looked twice at me before you, and she was nearly seventy years old."

She shook her head. "That is hard to believe," her hands were moving, unbuttoning the loose shirt I had on. I had to move my arms so she could slip it off me, but I replaced them as soon as I could, revelling in the satin, silky smoothness of her skin as she undid my shorts and pushed them down. As soon as I was naked, she lay back on the bed and spread herself, holding her arms out to me. It was very tempting, but I could see she was still trembling.

She was small, like most Filipinas, though stockier than most; her breasts, barely a B cup, if that, were conical, the nipples flat in the areolae. As I've implied, I was a virgin myself and my knowledge of female sexuality was entirely theoretical, but everything about her was telling me she was not physically ready for sex; her vulva tightly closed.

"Move over," I told her. That would make her close her legs.

"But..."

I physically pushed her nearest leg and slid onto the bed next to her as she shuffled over. I slipped my arm under her neck and pulled her against me. I was fairly sure ... almost certain ... I knew what the main problem was. Okay, maybe she was genuinely concerned I didn't think her attractive, but that wasn't why she was scared ... She was scared because her uncle had forced her to have sex without preparation or any concern for her comfort, let alone pleasure. She was expecting it to hurt and I was sure she was only doing it to try to make sure of my interest.

Don't think I wasn't tempted to just go ahead; first time in bed with a naked young woman? An attractive-to-me woman? Oh, yes. I wanted her all right. But there was more to it than that. My free hand roamed over her as far as I could easily reach, caressing her back, her side, her derrière, her thigh. She shivered under my touch, but it wasn't the fear-induced trembling of earlier. I found her breast, a handful for me, and delighted in the feel of it. Playing with the areola, I felt the shy nipple responding. Pleased with myself, I pinched it lightly and drew a gasp.

"That's better," I said. "Do you like this?"

"What are you doing to me... ?"

"I am making love to you, as I've wanted to, well, ever since we met, really." I took her hand and placed it on my skin, on my side. Tentatively, she began to stroke me. I kissed her again and she began to really respond. I was getting worked up as well...

I finally allowed my hand to find her pussy, which was definitely damp and became positively wet as I gently explored. She, in turn, began to touch my penis, which was getting painfully hard. When she gripped it and began to stroke, I lost control altogether and pumped what felt like a flood of semen onto her belly with a groan. Happily I could reach a box or tissues to clean up the worst.

"Sorry," I told her. "Let's see if I can do better now."

She looked surprised. "We're no-where near done, yet," I told her as my hand found its way back between her legs and I lowered my lips onto her nipple. Sucking on it was sheer pleasure, and also produced a groan as her hips bucked against my hand and she produced a flood of juices.

"Ohhh ... I've peed..."

I had to release her nipple to answer. "No, you haven't. Don't worry, we'll clean up later." I was keen to try something else I'd only read about, and slid sown the bed to taste her essence. It was something, I decided, that I could get addicted to. At first, she tried to keep my head away from her pussy, but once I began to lick she changed her mind. Her orgasm surprised both of us as I got a face-full of her juices. I wasted no time to slip into her, my erection having never really subsided. Once fully embedded, I paused holding myself over her on my elbows. By arching my back, I could look at her face and dip my head to kiss her.

"Oh ... Jim..." she sighed, "wonderful..." then after a pause, "It ... doesn't hurt. It feels ... oh..."

I began to move and she said no more, but humped back at me. I was able to keep going for quite a while, but she didn't come again. She sighed as I ejaculated in her. It was, I thought, another sigh of pleasure, not disappointment. I tried to roll off her, but she clung to me and ended up sprawled on top, her head on my chest just below my chin. I was, at last, softening, but she pressed against me to keep me in place. The soft pressure of her breasts against me, with the small, hard lumps that were her nipples very apparent ... I might have been in heaven. But she was shaking and tears were wetting my chest. I stroked her back as she babbled something in Tagalog, gradually calming down. Then, there was a quiet time during which she just lay on top of me with my arms wrapped round her.

Eventually, she lifted her head to look at me. "Thank you, Jim. Thank you. I love you." She paused, then grinned and added, "Can we do that again?"

I grinned back. "Absolutely." It did occur to me about then that I hadn't considered and she hadn't mentioned protection, but as I'd filled her pretty thoroughly it did seem the point was moot just then, so why worry?

She twisted round and dived to take me in her mouth. I winced inwardly, thinking about how she'd come to know what to do, but grabbed her hips and lifted her over me so I could get at her pussy with my tongue. She gave a sort of muffled squeak as I tasted our combined juices – I'd never dreamed of doing so in my masturbatory fantasies, but it just seemed the natural thing to do. She only sucked until I was erect again, then spun round, straddled me and impaled herself on me, but then didn't move. I wasn't complaining; the velvety pressure of her vagina enclosing me was incredible.

"I don't know what to do," she said, quietly. "I've never done it like this before."

I reached out to palm those delightful little breasts, feeling the hard, rubbery nipples moving under my hands. "It's lovely," I told her, stroking down her sides until my hands rested on her hips, "I could stay here like this, inside you, caressing your lovely body, for hours."

She snorted.

"No, really," I said. "But if you want to do something, you can rise and fall, or rock backwards and forwards, or rotate your hips," I used my hands on her hips to encourage her to move in the ways I was suggesting, "and I believe if you adjust your angle, you can get the right pressure on your clit and that will make you come."

"I don't understand," she said, experimenting, "ooh, but I like this. What is 'clit'? What is 'coming'?"

I slid my hand between us and touched her nubbin. "This is your clitoris, your clit. It's the bit of you, or one part of you, that gives you the good feelings when ... we do this."

When I rubbed her, she groaned, "Tomorrow. Explain tomorrow. Make love now."

So we did, and finally slept to wake wrapped up in each other in a damp patch.

I wasn't surprised that our new relationship turned my life upside down. I was a little surprised at how good the sex was; everything I'd read suggested it would take time to get things right. It did get better, but it was very good from the start. What really surprised me was how well I slept, sharing a bed. Boats don't, as a rule, have large beds and mine, while nominally a double, wasn't what a landlubber would consider a double. It was long – which is quite unusual – because I needed a long bed as I'm well over six feet tall, but it was ... is ... only four feet wide. It didn't matter, because regardless of temperature and humidity, Kelly consistently snuggled close and somehow conformed to my shape and sleeping movements. I am only now beginning ... just beginning ... to adjust to a marvellous change in my situation.

If we were going to get back to Britain that year, we couldn't just relax and explore each other, though. We left Port Louis for South Africa on the seventh of August.

At sea, we couldn't sleep together. That didn't mean we didn't make love ... we did, and without hurrying ... but it meant we had to sleep separately. Kelly was a good enough sailor by that point that I was happy and she was willing to take a night watch; we fell more or less naturally into a conventional four on, four off pattern. Sex was spontaneous whenever everything was under control and we had no worries. One thing puzzled me, though. She wasn't backward in coming forward sexually, but she continued to wear all-over clothing in the sun. I asked her about it.