Full Circle

      A racy story for the uninhibited         

 

 

 

 

 

May 9, 2006

Paradise

The runway blurred as the jetliner reached for the sky. It broke through the clouds into the clear morning sun as Hilton whispered, “Did I tell you that it’s going to take thirteen hours to reach Beef Island Airport in Tortola?”

           She nodded half hearing as he added, “We’ll land in Miami, then fly to San Juan and finally to Tortola. It’s a long flight but worth it. Sailing in the British Virgin Islands is spectacular and we’re going to be on a fabulous boat”.

Hilton Christopher wanted a fast, comfortable sailboat. He had looked around the Great Lakes and found one at Port Weller but before making the purchase he decided to try it out bare boating in the tropics. What could be better on this cold November day than to join the birds and fly south? Karen Semple agreed to take time from her work and be his companion and crew. Close friends for several years, she enjoyed going away with him. There were always surprises, good food and great sex.

As the plane roared south from the cold  the sky lightened. The clouds become puffy and the strengthening sun beamed through the windows. The ocean below became a lighter shade of blue and tiny islands took shape almost surreal looking from thirty thousand feet, their features became more distinct as the plane dropped for landing, golden beaches promising good times .

        A black moonless night welcomed the flight to Tortola in the British West Indies. Passengers stepping out of the aircraft were enveloped in the warm, moist Caribbean air for the walk to the cool new airport building for immigration checks and luggage pickup. Hilton found a taxi to the hotel in Road Town. He, excited, wanted to go to the bar to see what was happening. She preferred bed agreed but just for a nightcap. The hotel piano man played jazz as they sipped cool Rum Collins before surrendering to the night.

        The shaft of brilliant sunlight slanting through a crack in the blind roused Hilton and he rolled against Karen’s soft body.  Her quiet breathing and subtle fragrance stirred him and he reached for her. Not really sleeping she welcomed his touch with a soft moan drawing closer. They embraced and kissed sleepy kisses. Their senses awakened, tension mounted, body moved over body, she moaned softly as he groaned relief. They experienced the morning rapture that can only be shared by two sleepy people.

        Catching his breath, Hilton nuzzled her breasts but she rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom leaving him to his thoughts and after glow. A few minutes later he sat up. “I booked the boat for tomorrow but we’ll have to go to the Charter Office after breakfast. I’ll sign the papers and get provisions for ten days sailing.” A muffled reply indicated she heard him. He liked Karen very much and was almost in love with her but wasn’t sure. Maybe this trip would prove that the boat was right for him and that she was too.

The breakfast buffet offered fresh fruit, mangoes, oranges and grapefruit with toast and coffee set in a background of red and yellow hibiscus with brilliantly coloured birds flitting among the branches. Hilton asked for scrambled eggs but Karen feasted on fruit.

“Would you like to look around the island?” he asked. “We can acclimatize to the bright sunshine and have a leisurely swim.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Hilton,” she said nibbling on a mango.

The Charter Office at the marina was a short walk. The door was opened by a bearded man named Simon and after introducing Karen, Hilton asked about the Hunter 430.

 “She’s across the harbour for a refit,” answered Simon, “ but she’ll be here this afternoon. Let’s get on with the paper work. Here’s a list of the provisions most people take. Look it over and let me know what you want.”

Karen took on the food and drink department while Hilton and Simon completed the charter agreement.

“Don’t order too much. There are places in the islands where provisions are available and people usually visit island restaurants when they have had enough shipboard cooking,” he added. Karen and Hilton checked the order arguing about a few items but nothing serious.

 “I’ll have it all put it on board ready for an early morning departure, you’ll be anxious to get going.”

“We want to look around the island today. Do you have any ideas where we can go?” Karen asked before they left the office.

“The island’s not big and the best bet is Jakes taxi. He’ll look after you personally if I ask him.”

Jakes reasonably new car wound its way out of Road Town up a steep hill toward the ridge that runs the length of the island where dense green bush pressed against the Ridge Road. Jake pointed out the islands across the channel they would soon visit as he drove across the island to a quaint restaurant at West End where he recommended they lunch in a garden restaurant surrounded by bougainvillea and oleander.

“We’d like to swim after lunch,” Hilton said climbing out of the car. “Do you know a good place?”

 Jake knew of a reef a few metres offshore and after lunch took them to a wide expanse of light brown sand where waves splashed in from the protected bay. “Swim straight out from here, you’ll find it, sure enough.” .

“This looks fine, will you come back in a couple of hours?”

 Changing behind a thatch was no problem for Karen, who while modest, is not a prude. She wanted to lie in the sun before swimming. Hilton joined her gently fondling her breasts and caressing her golden hair. He grinned when she arched her back brushing his hands away when his touch reached sensitive places between her thighs. A dreamy hour passed as they began to burn. It was time to get out of the sun.

    The reef was a short swim from the beach. Hilton held his breath and kicked into the coral among the small fish while Karen snorkeled on the surface. The coral heads, clearly visible in the warm water, teemed with fish. He recognized several types of wrasse and parrotfish. A red squirrelfish hid under a coral and ducked away as he approached. His mind was totally on the beauty of the reef when the taxi horn brought him back to reality. Rejoining Karen, they swam back to the beach and quickly changed for the ride to Road Town.

Jake took them to the Inner Harbour Marina where Simon waited in the office saying she was ship shape and ready to cruise as soon as the last of the provisions were put aboard.

“Did you load the scuba gear and four tanks?” Hilton asked.

“No problem,” answered Simon. “You can refill the tanks at Virgin Gorda and Jost so don’t worry about air. Are you ready to look at your boat?” 

 The gleaming Hunter 430 was birthed on a dock in deep water. Boxes of provisions piled along side waited to be stowed. Like children at a party, Hilton and Karen climbed aboard to see their new home.

The Hunter 430 is a roomy boat, 42 feet long and 14 feet wide with an auxiliary fifty horsepower diesel engine. She has three births, a shower and spacious living quarters to easily accommodate six people but he wanted this to be a private adventure. He also wanted to see if the Hunter had the speed the builders advertised. It had won races in Texas and was known to be a good sailor but a boat can only perform as well as the skipper. She certainly looked pretty in her birth and he was happy when Karen said she was excited about the prospect of the days and nights ahead. He was sure they would have a great time in more ways than one. He pictured her trim five and a half foot body in revealing swimsuits, her tight butt and slim waist accentuating breasts that, while not large, were round and perky. He loved her blue eyes and the generous lips that attracted the glance of men, usually after they had scanned her other features. He was proud of her and liked to show her as his personal trophy.

Like many self-made women Karen Semple had not enjoyed an easy life. She had worked with her ex husband to create an advertising agency while raising two girls.  But when the marriage dissolved she got the kids, the house and a challenge. It was her background in advertising that provided the answer and with hard work she built a successful boutique agency specializing in women’s apparel. Hilton came into her life about five years ago becoming a friend and lover. Their combined resources provided the freedom to do things most other people could not do making them the envy of their married friends.  

 

The Hunter

The sun was barely clearing the mist over the hills behind Road Town as they carried their sea bags to their boat.  Simon waited in his office.

“She’s ready to go,” he called. “Come on, we’ll take her out for a trial run and show you how everything works.” 

Simon started the engine as Karen cast off the bowline and Hilton handled the stern lines. A single blast on the air horn and they moved slowly into the channel. Hilton studied the gauges, radar and radio equipment while Karen checked out the life jackets, inflatable raft and other safety equipment.

            Clear of the harbour, Simon demonstrated the main sail and the self-furling jib. He brought them about to catch the wind and the boat settled on a beam reach cruising gracefully across the channel. Hilton took the wheel. It felt good to be in control of the beautiful craft and he turned as close to the wind as possible heeling over smartly. Moving at about six knots he called “come about”. The main sail swung swiftly over the cockpit and the jib filled without difficulty. He executed a series of maneuvers to show he could handle the boat. In his mind he pictured racing in the America’s Cup on the broad Atlantic. It takes time to learn the nuances of a boat just like it took time to understand Karen and he was pleased to think he could master them both.

        Satisfied that the boat was in good hands Simon told Hilton to return to the marina. He brought the boat to its slip while Simon signed his checklist and released it for the cruise. That done Hilton moved back into Sir Francis Drake Channel and set a course to Norman Island, in earlier times a haven for pirates, now a shelter for amateur sailors

Three hours later they were the Bight anchoring among a dozen other boats. Crews already there shouted an invitation to come over for a drink. Karen replied that they would later and busied herself with lunch while Hilton poked about the cabin to see what he had missed.

After lunch they swam to a nearest boat to join two couples on deck. The boat, a forty-foot motor yacht owned by Scott Pickens, an entrepreneur from Texas was a beauty. The other man was Bill Misner, a long time friend and their much younger ladies looked like models.

“Welcome aboard, y’all,” Bill exclaimed and introduced everyone. Karen and Hilton went on a tour before lounging on the rear deck talking about boats in general. A confirmed motorboat sailor Bill commented, “The Hunter is a nice boat if you like canvas. I like my motor boat even if you guys call them stink pots.” The afternoon continued with stories of real or imagined adventure at sea and they agreed to meet for supper at the Pirates Bar ashore.

The sun was low when they returned to the Hunter. Shaking water out of her hair Karen went to the cabin to change. Hilton joined her gazing fondly at her slim figure, her delightful round breasts and her long legs stretching from a round tight butt guarding the shaved garden between.

“What are you looking at lecher?” she teased relaxing naked on the bed.

Hilton came to her, kissed her flat tummy and gently moved his head to the sweet spot when she opened her legs to give his hungry tongue access to her moist mound. She shivered and moaned as his tongue caressed her labia lips and she grasped her knees around his head. He gasped for air but lapped the sweet juice that flowed from inside. She relaxed her grip as he pulled away rolling her onto her knees mounting her from behind doggy style. He penetrated her deeply and stroked hard.

After the first orgasm they made love to the rhythm of the waves. Each explored the tender parts of the other with tongues, fingers, and Hilton’s nose that substituted briefly for his penis. It was time to luxuriate in the physical joy of Karen’s body and he didn’t rush. Too soon the sun sank into the western sea and the cabin darkened. He got up to start the generator and illuminate the running lights. Karen languidly pulled a towel around her as she moved gracefully to the shower.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat anything more tonight,” he chuckled, kissing her ear while drying her back. She slapped him tenderly pulling a flowery dress over her golden hair. Karen did not use a lot of makeup and was ready to go by the time he was dressed.

The small outboard motor on the inflatable raft quickly took them to shore where they found the path to the Pirates Bar where the rum was flowing, the noise level increasing and sailors’ yarns were spinning. Scott and Bill had already ordered dinner.

“Where ya been, Hilti,” Scott called. “We thought you were gonna stand us up.”

Karen blushed when one of the girls said quite loudly, “I declare, but I think those two have been up to hanky panky. What d’ya think, boys?” The women were obviously trophy wives and Hilton eyed her answering,

“Well, my dear, you might be right and you might not.” Karen poked him.

They ordered dinner and as the conversation continued Hilton sensed that Scot and Bill were into sharing partners. Scott whispered in his ear that his wife was a hot number under the sheets if he wanted her. Hilton declined politely about the same time that Karen signaled she wanted to go. “Look at the time,” Hilton said, “we’re going to dive a wreck tomorrow so we gotta go. Thanks for your hospitality. We’ll probably see you in the morning as we leave.”

“We sleep late,” one of the women pouted. “It’s very comfortable on our boat. Sure you wouldn’t like a nightcap.”

Karen was already pulling him toward the door as he declined with a wave. The sea was luminous and they were able to make out their boat without difficulty climbing aboard gratefully. Hilton made the inflatable secure and checked the anchor lines before turning in for the night.

            “They’re not the kind of people I want to associate with,” she said coolly. “What was going on with you and that Scott guy?”

            “I shouldn’t say this but he wanted me to trade you for his wife.”

            “Let’s get out of here first thing in the morning,” she said frostily and went to the cabin without another word.

            Hilton was sure she wouldn’t have been interested and he wouldn’t have done it anyway. Still, he thought, she was a good-looking gal!

 

             Go to Chapter 2, Diving on the Rhone and Virgin Gorda

 Have you followed along so far? The story gets more interesting over the next few days so read on.

There are no little pictures anymore.

Chapter 3 Night at Sea

Chapter 4 Hurricane

Chapter 5 Karen's Choice

Chapter 6 Hilton's Awakening

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