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Aboard Old Ironsides, the smells of the sea mingle with the gentle brush of your hair
The sun is warm on our backs as we walk down to the dock. A few dollars, a smiled thank you, and we are walking up the boarding ramp. There's almost nobody here. The gulls call out in the humid air, and the weight of my camera sits damply on my side.

The boat is a warship. "Old Ironsides," whose wooden walls bounced cannonballs. It still has some of the original wood in places. It's beautiful, and smells of the sea.

The wooden rails are soft and slightly wet under my hands. Your feet scuff a little on the deck as we walk to the bow. My camera is out, and you hear the clicking shutter. Damn kid and his camera...

I'm not pointing it at you, though. This is a wonderful old boat, and there's nobody in sight. A photographer's dream.

The gun deck is mostly clear, and dark. Light streams in through the open gun ports, casting stark shadows on the worn wood. You're waiting for me to get the picture, but it takes a moment for me to find a steady rest. Just as I'm about to press the shutter, you cover the lens with your hand. I can't figure it out for a moment, and then I look up. You're smiling at me with that teasing grin, shaking your head

I smile back, but you know that smile. It's dangerous, and you start to step away.

I'm too quick. The camera falls as I snag a hand around those lovely curves of yours and stand. I pull you close. I feel your hands on my shoulders, but you yelp as they slip off. No questions, no pause; I kiss you hard, both arms wrapped around you.

I want you. You can feel it in my lips. In my hands. You can feel it in my body, pressed against you. You can see it in my eyes as I pull away and look at you. Desire.

Suddenly, I hear the shuffling of a visitor descending the ladder behind me. I push you away, still holding your hand as you collect yourself.

"Hey, how's it going?"

He has an awkward moment when he realizes that he probably interrupted something. I smile back and nod.

I ask you to stand in front of one of the open gun ports. The contrast is enormous, but I catch a perfect outline of you framed in the opening. A strand of hair is blown above your cheek, and your damp shirt clings to your body. You are turned slightly, just enough for the soft outline of the nipple under your bra to be barely pointed out against the light.

Definitely a private photo for you and me. It's hot.

It is hot all around. The sweat is beading on my arms, and it looks like you are not any better off.

I walk behind you down the deck. I can taste your sweat on my lips still, a little salty.

You stop at the open door, looking beyond. Nobody is behind me. I step directly behind you. By the time you realize I'm behind you, my arms are already wrapped around you. I cup your breasts in both hands as I kiss your neck. A moment's surprise gives way to sudden arousal, and I hear your ragged exhale as you push back against me.

I whisper in your ear, "We could get caught."

"We could...oh!" I pinch your nipples as you reply, and you clap your hands over mine. "Ohhhh...damn it."

There's a chair just inside the next room. Holding you close, I step around and pull you down into my lap. You're strong, though, and quickly stand up to face me, shaking your head.

You don't step away, though. My fingers trace the top of your jeans, and then hold your back as I lean forward and kiss low below your belly button. A little higher, a little higher. Your shirt is in the way, but I keep kissing over it. A little higher. Just kissing the curve of your breast. A little higher. Some skin, thank goodness for low-cut tops. Kiss, a little lick. A tiny lick with each kiss. Higher. Your head is back as I kiss your collar.

I kiss your neck, and you're suddenly unsteady in my hands.

There's a window behind me, and music is carried in gently from a distant radio. Slow dance, step, step, shift, step. My hands are in your hair, and wrapped around your back, holding you close. I feel your heat, your sweat. We're at the window, and lean sideways into it. The breeze stirs your hair as I kiss you, slowly, just feeling your body. Your eyes are closed. Your breath is steady and deep as you hold me.

Your eyes open and you look at me. Too wide! You pull away suddenly, and I am caught by surprise. You slip away, and run. I pull on the wooden beams as I pursue you, catapulting through the door. There's a ladder down to the hold, and you jump steps to the bottom.

It's cooler, and much darker. Your skirt swishes as you duck beams and barrrels. I'm following, watching, hunting. I want you, yet you run from me.

Neither of us know the ship. You turn a corner, and it is abruptly closed off. Dead end. I'm in the doorway behind you, standing, growling.

I step towards you once, quietly.


Step. Your back is against the wall, hands flat against the wood.

Step. I put my hand out, slowly, palm up.


Step. Your hand comes off the wall, slowly.

Step. Hands closer.



I pull your hand, hard, and you pull into me. The collision knocks the breath out of me. You are heavy in my hands as I step forward, and push you against the wall. You're holding the beams as I kiss you, hands pulling, holding.


I lift your skirt, and find your panties. A quick tug, and they slide to your ankles. A moment's consciouness lets me take them off without ripping them. Your eyes are open now, wide, watching me. I'm a few inches away, still for a moment.

I reach out, and hold your head to me as I kiss you again. I want you. My lips demand from you, my hand unhooks your bra.

I'm still kissing you, a little gentler as I circle your nipples with my fingers. Circle, pinch!

I smile as your hips press against mine. Your eyes are closed, your head back against the wood behind you.

"Oh god...."

My pants are velcro-closed. A moment's pull, and they open. I'm close. You can feel me ready, hot against your leg. You press against me as I gently bite your neck. I push you back up against the wall, forcing your legs apart with mine. Hands on your hips, I lift you up. I'm holding you off the floor, pressing. Your hips roll in my arms.

Skin on skin. I feel your heat. I smell your arousal. You're wet, ready. I slide a little, back and forth, feeling your arousal, hot and wet. Pushing, sliding; close, but not quite the right angle.

You are watching me.

In a moment, I lift you and catch just inside. Your breath gasps a moment at the sensation. I lean forward and kiss you, as I slide in, out a little, in more, a little more. Sliding, deeper, out, then deeper. I am holding your hips to me as I stand a little, pressing bone to bone now. Your heart is pounding, your hair has loosened.

I pull your hair pin loose, and your hair falls down around your face. I hold your head and hips to me. Your are almost limp in my arms, writhing, pulling me closer, deeper.

Slow, and hard. Out, teasing, just a little in, in and out. I'm savoring this moment. The smell of you, the smell of us. Your hair is wet and tousled. The sweat beads on your face, your eyes closed in desire, as if in concentration.

I push slowly, feeling you, feeling the soft, silky wetness. I'm alive, I'm holding you, sharing, giving, taking.

Harder now. Your legs are wrapped around mine, your fingernails press into my back. It smarts, and the pain wakes a fire.

I nip your shoulder, and take you. It's hot in here, unbearably hot. My shirt is off in a moment. Skin on skin, wet, sliding heat. My hands hold you up as I fuck you, harder, harder, taking.

You're moaning, high pitched, pulling me closer, fingers clutching my shoulders. I growl. Deep, strong. You're mine.

You can feel me, moving faster. The urgency in my hips, in my shoulders as I pull you closer.

You feel it close.

Closer. My voice is low and rumbling as I push into you.

I hold you tight to me. Feeling the pain of your nails, the grip of your legs. Feeling the need of your body. One more push. One more. Once again ... and pulse!

You feel me. Warmth. Wet. Heat! White fire. Pulsing, clenching, breath ... breath!




I'm holding you, moving a little in you, smiling, as you open your eyes.

I kiss you again, slowly, just holding you in my arms.

I bend down and kiss your nipple, firm and senstive.

"That's for later."

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright (C) 2009 Trost Osler, reproduction permitted by explicit permission only. Contact for more information.

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