The Mariner Read Online Free Page A

thighs, stroking, teasing.
    The Mariner’s lips felt dry. He ran his tongue over them, despite knowing this would lead to chapping in the wind. He didn’t care. Tonight he would plant his sore lips upon this woman of extraordinary beauty.
    “Who are you?” he cried, but no reply came, unless it were from the wind, a force that seemed to gather with every flick of her fingers.
    There was movement to her right. The black haired woman was on her back, the disturbance in the waves behind and out her line of sight. What was it? A shark? Alarmed, the Mariner opened his mouth to warn his would-be lover about the beast, but further events stole his words before they formed.
    A second woman crawled out the water.
    She did not look like the first, though if similarity could be found it would be in her equal perfection. This second sprite was more dainty than the first; smaller breasts, slender hips, darker skin and long brown hair. Yet somehow she wasn’t as
real
as her counterpart, though of course this thought was preposterous. She was
there
, as real as his own hand.
    The brunette crawled across the sea towards her companion, hips swaying in the twilight. The Mariner marvelled at how solid the surface appeared under her hands and knees. A shifting floor, moving with every wave, pliable, yet firm nonetheless.
    If the fresh arrival surprised the sprite, she didn’t show it. In fact, the brunette not only crawled to her, but straddled over the top as if to reach for her feet, and as she did so, the raven-haired goddess placed her hands upon her companion’s hips and pulled them close to meet her mouth.
    The Mariner couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Two beautiful women, just a short jump away, one performing oral sex upon the other. And she was doing so with feverish intensity; her hands were upon the other’s buttocks, pulling them down and apart, giving her as much access as possible to her lover’s sex.
    The Mariner felt like a spy, an interloper, a peeping-tom. Neither women had acknowledged his presence. Were they trying to shut him out? Was that it? Was that his punishment for not joining them?
    The brunette’s jaw dropped down in a silent cry, smiling, though not at him, her gaze was out across the ocean, but it dared him to join them nonetheless.
    It was then he realised why she didn’t appear so real. The brunette was lacking detail. While the first woman was as real as any he’d met in his lifetime (though admittedly none so well proportioned) the brunette was missing the finer characteristics. He squinted, trying to discern some tiny element, such as a solitary hair or freckle. He saw none. It was as if she were a very lifelike manikin whose creator had gotten lazy, knowing no-one would ever take a close up look.
    Still grinning, the brunette lowered her body until it were fully on top of the raven’s, putting her own face between her lover’s legs, mirroring the actions of the other. They pleasured with their tongues, bodies writhing, breasts pushed against each other’s bellies.
    The Mariner wanted them so much he was shaking, tremors running up and down his body. Struggling free from his clothes, the cold wind bit at his flesh, yet his groin was hot. On fire! His cock sprung free, eager and foolhardy.
    A rope ladder was curled up by the railing. He hoisted it over and its bottom rung plummeted into the sea. Keeping his eye firmly on the women below, he skipped over and began his descent, as naked as his temptresses. Knees bashed against the hull as the ship rocked, but he did not care. The pain was far removed from his mind. All he could comprehend were their gasps; the way the brunette’s body moved like a wave grinding against her partner, the sight of the raven’s face, eagerly working between the thighs of the other woman. Soon the three of them would be together. They would see him, touch him, welcome him between them and make love under the stars, mocking the sea for ever daring to defy them.
    He