Chapter 15

Sunlight pushed through the tiny cabin portholes, brighter on the starboard side because the northerly wind had our bow pointed into it, swinging at anchor. Okay. One sensation. It was morning. Second sensation. I was on my boat. Third sensation. Wasn't my boat any more, it was OUR boat, because I had a soft, naked form beside me, breathing softly. Jo. Twenty-four hours ago, she was my girlfriend. After last night, she was my wife. Unless I was dreaming. I touched the smooth skinned flank beside me, got a sleepy purr.

I nestled back in under the blanket. Got a little "mmmmm" and a return wiggle. I know that as long as I don't actually speak, I can drift along on that lush cusp between sleeping and waking, savoring the feelings. The feelings to be savored were, this morning, much greater. There was now enough light to make out the redness of that head of hair leaning into my chest. What was a pleasure to my eyes was also a pleasure to my nose as tendrils of perfume sallied forth into my nose, and I made my lips happy by gently grazing them through the sleek though lightly disheveled hair, feeling, feeding on the beauty there.

She stirred. I felt her press her lips against my chest, her head turning.

"Stoney, I haven't awakened next to a man since the last time I slept in mom and dad's bed when I was sick. I was ten."

"You're doing it right," I said.

She eased up a little higher, bright blue eyes made bluer by the smile beneath them. "Good morning, Stoney."

"Good morning, Missus Jackson. That is, if you didn't wake up thinking you've made a mistake."

Her lips provided the beginnings of an answer. The rest came in soft words. "I am Mrs. Randall Jackson. Since last night. And for the rest of my life."

I returned her kiss. "Then I wasn't dreaming after all."

She gave me a happy giggle. "I'm the subject of dreams?"

"No, my princess. You're the one who shows me that my best dreams were only dim approximations."

Giggle. "Sweet talk will only get you ... ME!" I was happy with that, holding her close, her warmth feeding into my own, until she noticed the effect all this closeness had on me. "Stoney ... You're ... Is it okay if we..."

"Just so you know, little wifey, you never ever have to ask. As long as it won't outrage the public, you never have to ask."

"You get a say, Stoney." I loved hearing my name on her lips from the first day we met.

"It's yours, Jo. If you want it, it's yours."

Purr. "I want it. It's attached to you. And I want you." That was a desire I was all too happy to meet. This time I ended up with her atop me, the ends of her hair brushing my cheeks as we kissed in the afterglow.

"Stoney, there's something we completely didn't talk about last night. Or this morning."

"What's that, my love?"

"Pregnancy."

I guess I was supposed to get all nervous, but I wasn't. I was looking at the woman who might, if things were according to the normal course of things, bear our children. Last night was a tumble, but I'd determined in my heart that if she was risking anything, she was certainly cognizant of it. If nine months brought forth the progeny of Stoney and Jo, if Jo was good with it, So was Stoney. That's what I explained to her.

"In due time, husband," she said. "I like that. 'Husband'. Mine. But I use the Pill to stave off some really bad bouts with menstrual cramps."

"The Pill?"

"Yes. ONLY for the cramps. I never had any intention or notion or idea of spreading my legs for some guy who I would not wake up beside and call 'husband'. Last night, though, it served the added function of making our honeymoon entirely without chance of conception." She put her fingertip on the tip of my nose. "So were you just totally overcome with the moment and didn't consider the long-term effects? Or?"

"Or I considered that my Johanna was not somebody who would allow last night to happen unless any effect was acceptable. Like I said."

"But you do think we should have children."

"If both of us decide. I don't want to put that on you and let you think you're forcing me into something. After all, It worked out well for our own parents."

"I want us to have children. But not nine months from now. I want us to have a few years to get our lives and careers stabilized. Then..."

"Practical," I said.

"I want to be," she said. "But I desperately want us to have some time together to ourselves. Is that being selfish?"

"No. We get to work out how we fit together. Skip around the countryside..."

"Sail out into the Gulf, get to see the sunset unimpeded by man, walk the beaches somewhere." She smiled. "ANd then we can buy a house, furnish it for the two of us and whatever offspring we decide to produce. And a cat. I would like a cat." She'd seen me playing with a cat one day at a shop we visited. "But right now I would like breakfast."

Now you need to know that I have several modes of food prep on the boat. Most of the time, though, on overnights and weekends, my mode is "instant everything" with the exception of the Notable Meal. My rationale is that everything I pack onboard has to be subsequently packed back off, and further, washing pots and pans and dishes is a real bummer when you can't pump the effluvia overboard.

"Freeze-dried breakfast, coming up," I said. "Marine cuisine meets backpacker tech." I put a kettle of water on the burner to boil and turned the cabin heater up a bit to help out when I opened portholes to let the accumulated moisture out. Then I looked into the master cabin. Jo naked became Jo getting dressed. I savored the motions of her body as she went through the completely normal everyday task.

She turned her head, catching me in mid-gaze. Giggled. "You're looking!"

"You're beautiful. It's hard not to stare."

"I know," she said. "I was peeking when you got dressed."

"I thought you were still half asleep."

"That half that was asleep was watching. The part that was waking up was all tingly still. It's never had attention shown to it like that." She smiled because as she talked, she could see what I felt: my dick waking up, coming to half an erection, pushing visibly against the front of my pants.

"IS that going to be the way it is, Stoney?"

"Is what?"

"When I talk about how I get tingly, you get hard."

"Pretty much. Might want to keep that in mind for public discussions."

Giggle. She tilted her pretty red head. "I'm glad I have that effect on you. You just don't see the effect you have on me, that's the only difference." She bounced up to me and wrapped her arms around me. "Stoney, I absolutely love you."

"Good," I said. "Do you want to go back to land and go get rings and stuff?"

"Nope! I want to spend my honeymoon, all two days of it, right here on this boat."

I swiveled in her arms so I could kiss her. Her face was turned up to meet my lips. "We can certainly do that, little angel," I said.

"After breakfast," she said, "Let's SAIL this thing. We have a north wind. You're bound to know some other anchorages on the bay. Let's sail there, anchor, make that pot of soup you packed the ingredients for, and we'll do some music and then..." Her eyes twinkled. "I'm twenty-one years old, Stoney. I know girls who've been screwing since they were twelve or thirteen. I'm afraid I'm going to have to use you to try to catch up."

"Then I'll need some coffee," I said.

"Not gonna work, guy," she smiled. "I drink coffee too."

"Then we'll both be awake when I die," I laughed.

"And I'll have a good day of sailing from it," she retorted, eyes laughing.

We took our breakfast in the cabin, then when the coffee was done, I filled a thermos with some for later and two insulated mugs went with us into the open air, the sky blue, the wind cool, just begging to fill the sail for us.

She relaxed aback into my arms, the oversized wool sweater from my locker bulking her up, hiding the charms I'd touched for the first time last night.

"Be honest, Stoney. Last night. Was I any good?"

I nuzzled the red hair aside, kissing her cheek. "Johanna Jackson, you are nothing short of a demonstration of the inadequacy of my fantasies. You're everything I dreamed, raised an order of magnitude."

"Really?"

"Really. More than I ever imagined." I meant it. "What about you?"

"Oh, Stoney ... Words don't describe what happened to me. I lack the vocabulary," she sighed with a smile. "I remember the first time I tickled myself to orgasm, Stoney. I think I was twelve or thirteen. I thought that nothing would ever top that. But you..."

"That's my report, too, Jo. With you, earthquakes and lightning."

She smiled. "Really. Stoney, I know you've had other women. I worry that I don't measure up."

"Johanna, you're on an entirely different scale. And if you want that discussion..."

"Tell me."

"I have been with several others over the years. One or two that I thought I really loved, connected with. Nobody was my Johanna. Really. Truly. And there will never be another."

After coffee, we secured the galley, made the berth and prepared to get underway.

"You understand how this engine works?" I asked.

She nodded, touching the controls. "Transmission. Throttle."

"Okay," I said. "I'm going forward. Just about dead slow, you ease us up and I'll pull in the anchor. Shouldn't be a big deal. Once I get the anchor stowed, I'll get back here and we'll set the sail and head off south."

"Okay, but just this time. I need to learn all this," she said.

We executed the plan well and we were soon on a broad reach, the stern wake making chuckling noises as we reached hull speed. It was a glorious day on the water. I set up the autopilot to maintain the heading so we could both relax. With the cool air, relaxation was best done in each other's arms. Jo let her hands roam freely, as did I.

"Slide your hands underneath my blouse, Stoney." She had a cotton blouse underneath my wool sweater and I slid my hands up inside, her flesh warm to my touch, her skin smooth, taut. Surprise! No bra. She squealed and then slumped back into my arms. "If I didn't suspect otherwise, I'd think that those were made just for you to touch." She paused. "And that thing you did last night with your mouth."

"I wasn't too rough?"

"Heavens, no," she sighed. "It was wonderful. Did you like them? Ever since puberty I've hoped they'd get bigger."

"Why do women do that, Jo?"

"Do what?"

"Sit next to a guy who absolutely adores them and run down the things he adores. Your breasts. Titties. Boobs. Whatever you ant to call them, I think they are perfection."

"You don't wish they were bigger?"

"Nope. Perfection, just as they are. I suspect that in the later stages of pregnancy we will see some growth, but until that time, they are the absolute most perfect things imaginable."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Why do you keep asking?"

"I have a friend who has D-cups and she says her boyfriend likes, uh, in her words, 'titty-fucking'. I don't have enough to do that."

"Turn around," I said. While she was re-positioning herself, I quickly surveyed the set of the sail and our course in relation to the land on one side (going there would get us solidly stuck in the mud, an embarrassment) and the deepwater ship channel on the other. The ship channel was the path taken by ocean-going traffic, dry cargo ships, oil tankers, big guys who had no choice as to their path. Going there and ignoring them would get one killed. We were in good shape with both.

Jo curled into my arms. "Now, Jo, let's talk."

Bright blue eyes looked at me. "This is serious," she said.

"Yes it is," I answered. I paused. "You do know, don't you, that those blue eyes of yours will get you anything from me that I can give you?"

"But we're gonna have this serious talk," she said.

"Yes. I wish to discuss your perfection."

"Okay."

"Don't sell yourself short, Mizzus Johanna Jackson. Make no doubt about it. I view you as perfection. Last night was the single greatest erotic experience I've had in my whole life. I suspect that as we get to know each other more, it will get better. But nowhere in my list of things I want from you was there any reference to 'titty-fucking'."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Where I was last night was nirvana."

"What about when I'm having a period?"

I kissed her. "Jo, I managed to restrain myself for a month and a half. I think I could manage a week for your period."