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***
A surprisingly short space of time passed before they hit the open waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The waves lapped at the sides as the yacht moved steadily through the sea. Gemma practised walking up and down the deck, holding the rails, feeling the vibrations as they ploughed through the water.
“The captain will be taking it slowly for the first couple of days, let us find our sea legs. If you feel seasick, you must say. You can wear a patch if it gets bad,” Jason told her over breakfast.
“I rarely get travel sickness, in cars, at least.” She hoped she wouldn’t need medication. There were bound to be side effects. “How long will it take to arrive in Ceuta?”
“By tomorrow, we’re going to track the coast. Take a long route there. Get your sea legs settled.” Jason smeared syrup over his crepe.
As he requested, she sunbathed naked on the deck under her own smearing of high factor sun cream. Gemma made the most of the good weather. Sea weather, she had been told, was changeable, especially the winds. A breeze blew, but nothing that could whip the page of her book over. She basked and rotated like a hog on a spit.
A shadow fell across her. Above her stood Jason, dressed in shorts, his chest bared.
“Your computer behaving?” she asked.
“Perfectly, but it’s Sunday. I won’t be using it. Come out of the sun, babe. You don’t want to cook yourself too quickly.” He turned away and headed towards the canopied lounger.
Gemma followed with a towel wrapped around her bosom. He lay on his side, and she joined him, lying on her back. When he reached across to her and searched out one of her breasts from underneath the towel, her breath quickened. Jason dragged the towel off her, and her heartbeat accelerated in anticipation of what was to come.
Slipping out of his shorts, Jason took her underneath him. She closed her eyes, spread her legs keenly, lifting her pelvis high for him, delivering her sex and ensuring he felt her eagerness clamping about his manhood. Her wrists, he pinned above her head with a tight and pinching grasp, the kind of domination she loved him to exhibit. She panted in short gasps, holding her orgasm at bay, determined to let it grow into a mountain of pulsating nerve endings.
The orgasm would have to consume every morsel of her body, drive out any negative energy, replace edginess and tautness with unscrupulous lust. Enticing Gemma further, Jason nibbled on her stiff nipples until she winced. His light chuckle reminded her he was partial to witnessing her pleasurable pain. Avoiding her gaze, he continued to lick and suck hard on her nipples until her breasts grew tender and swollen. Then, once again, he thrust deep inside her, and she let out a cry of tremendous delight.
“Shhh, baby.”
They might be on the top deck, but excessive noise would carry to the lower ones. Some lustful cries he would tolerate carrying to the envious crew below, but he’d told her on the plane he intended to gag her for the rougher play. The discussions about protocols had made her aroused with excitement.
Rough sex didn’t put Gemma off. About his pounding cock, she grew wet with natural lubrication that couldn’t be contained long. She came with a rhythmic spasm, bursting outwards into every element of her sexual being, and she adored the sensation. The liberty of coming unhindered overwhelmed her. Jason didn’t relent, and her deprived sex became overloaded. She wanted to come multiple times, as she knew she could, given the right circumstances. He ground his hips into her, deeper and faster, drawing her knees up and pushing them onto her shoulders.
The breeze blew across them, rippling waves of tiny shivers across her flesh. She relished him inside her, there on the luxurious yacht in the middle of the sea, used for his pleasure, uninhibited by bindings or teasing hands. Vanilla sex in the open air was just as good as bound sex in a dungeon. So when she opened her eyes and saw Enrique standing under the mast arch, she tensed, freezing all her muscles.
What is he doing watching us?
She glanced at the table next to them where drinks had appeared. Enrique had come close to them as they were having sex. Jason didn’t pause. If anything, her tension had heightened his arousal.
“Oh, Gemma!” he moaned into her neck as he bucked hard against her belly.
Enrique stood impassive and didn’t budge. Gemma tried to ignore him but couldn’t. For a moment, she lost the sensual side, the arousal went. Jason continued to pound into her. She became breathless, making small noises, but he didn’t let up. Eyes tightly shut again, she waited for him to finish.
“Come for me,” he demanded.
“I...can’t,” she gasped.
He released one of her wrists and eased away from her then found her clitoris with his thumb.
“I... I...” she floundered.
“You’ll come for me,” he commanded. He started to frig her hard, and her body relented.
Gradually, with his words echoing in her head, she found her lost arousal and ran her hand up and down his back. His smooth, muscular skin flexed as he lifted himself in and out of her. Sweat formed on his skin, and his particular smell caught her nose. Unchecked and ready, she came, bucking with the intensity as his thumb rubbed harder and harder.
“Argh!” she yelled out, and he gagged her cries with his mouth while he ejaculated into her.
***
Jason rolled off his wife. Her legs flopped down, and she lay perfectly still. Resting on his elbows, Jason gave Enrique a small nod, and the other man left.
Jason knew two facts about his wife: she didn’t like surprises and, once she accepted a situation, she was amazingly pliable. The first didn’t bother him as he liked the way she’d tensed up when she caught sight of Enrique—her sudden onset of embarrassed humiliation thrilled a man like Jason. Once she accepted their watcher wouldn’t be going, she had acquiesced and relaxed.
