1 comments/ 15029 views/ 0 favorites Mediterranean Idyll Ch. 01 By: SaharaGuy It was 7.30 in the evening of my twenty-eighth birthday, and I was sitting outside a bar on Tripoli's Sharia Istiklal (Independence Street) with a half-litre of ice-cold Amstel in front of me, watching the young Italian girls walking up and down arm in arm in twos and threes on their regular evening passeggiata, chattering away to each other and eyeing the boys out of the corners of their eyes. Four years had passed since the events that I described in my submission 'Eastern Idyll' and the memory of my first love, Jenn, had slowly faded from the forefront of my every waking moment as I gradually came to terms with the realisation that I had lost her for ever and would have to get on with my life. During that time I had completed my term of service with the RAF, obtained both British and American commercial pilot licences and moved out to Libya, where I was flying small bush planes deep into the Sahara Desert in support of the oil exploration industry, earning an income well in excess of that I had been receiving as an RAF pilot. And getting in a lot more very enjoyable flying too! The government of King Idris welcomed Westerners, making it a popular part of the world for expatriates in which to both work and play. One of the guys from the Tripoli Sailing Cub stopped by my table to enquire about my plans for the evening, and I confirmed that I would be down there later to treat everyone to a birthday drink. Sitting at the next table were a couple of attractive girls who looked somewhere about my age, and when they heard me speaking English one of them leaned across to ask me if I knew Tripoli. It turned out that they were cabin crew on an executive jet that had arrived at Idris airport from the UK that afternoon and was stopping over for a few days before continuing on to Egypt. It was the first time they had ever been to Tripoli, and they were soon asking my advice about places to go sight-seeing during the day and the availability of restaurants and night clubs in the evenings. Well, it seemed natural for me to invite them to join me as my guests at the Club so I did just that, to the great delight of the predominantly male members propping up the bar there. OK, so now it's description time, and it hardly takes me to point out that organisations who can afford to hire private jets for their executives are not likely to be repeat customers if reports get back to head office of flight attendants with big boobs, short skirts, legs up to their armpits and attitudes to match. These two, Ellen and Kate, were both brunettes, 5ft 4 or so in height - ideal in a cabin that lacks the headroom of a large airliner - with figures that were definitely feminine but not in your face. Trim and slim might be a good way of putting it and I could easily imagine the two of them looking extremely smart and capable in uniform. Tonight, however, they were wearing casual slacks and light blouses, and both of them looked quite delicious. After a while someone suggested moving on from the Sailing Club to the night club in the basement of the Uaddan, the top hotel in town, and it didn't surprise me when the girls said it was where they were staying. Later in the evening I was enjoying a slow, smoochy dance with Kate – and I was getting the distinct impression that she was enjoying it too - when she asked me what I was doing next day. I told her that I was scheduled to take a Beaver down to Esso-Libya's concession 6 in a couple of days time but till then I was at their service and would they like me to show them around, and what sort of sight-seeing did they fancy? Kate wrinkled up her nose and said Ellen had told her that she might be busy elsewhere the next day, and by the look of her, moving slowly around the floor enveloped in the arms of a tool-pusher from one of the drilling rigs, I guessed she could be right. Kate had heard of the Roman ruins at Sabratha and wanted to have a look at them, and I also suggested that Tripoli Castle would be well worth a visit. She liked dinghy sailing and did quite a bit back home, and was there any chance of me taking her out while she was in Tripoli? I said that we might be able to fit some of that in as well. Eventually, at two in the morning, she said that it had been a long day, she was totally bushed and it was time for bed. Would I pick her up later, say around 11am as she needed a late lie-in and then would have to check in with her captain up at the airport during the morning? I escorted her to the lift and deliberately didn't even try for a kiss. She hesitated a second, grinned at me and then the lift doors closed behind her. Eleven o'clock and Kate met me in the foyer of the Uaddan wearing sandals, short shorts with turned up cuffs at the top of smooth brown legs and a loose sleeveless top, knotted under her breasts and displaying a very acceptable amount of cleavage. I said she looked good enough to eat and she thanked me by reaching up – I am a good six foot tall – and kissing me on the cheek. I decided that this was a great start to the day! We jumped into my battered Fiat 1100, drove out through the suburbs to the west of Tripoli and picked up the coast road towards Sabratha. During the drive she told me that she was engaged to Chuck, an American guy whom she was planning to marry at the end of the year. Till that date, she said, she was free as a bird, and although the word 'available' was not actually spoken, the inference was very definitely hanging in the air. She asked about girl friends, and I told her about Jenn. She put a warm hand on my bare thigh, said what a lovely but sad story, and assured me that someone else would surely come along for me one day. Arriving at the site we bought some small snacks and cold soft drinks from the little refreshment shack just inside the entrance and had a quick look at the maps in the museum to get our bearings. Then it was out into the bright sunshine and a leisurely walk round three thousand years of history. She couldn't get her head round the Roman dates on the inscriptions so I had to explain how to add up the M's and the D's and the C's and told her that it was because the Romans had no symbol for zero that the Western world eventually turned to Arabic numerals. She had brought her camera with her to take shots of the site, and from time to time asked other tourists walking round the area to take some of the two of us together. Just for the record, she said! Eventually we arrived at the far end of the site facing onto the sea and sat down on the sand at the top of the beach, looking out over the flat calm of the Mediterranean. Although the harbour was long since gone, it was easy to visualise Roman and Phoenician and Egyptian ships coming and going to and from the busy town all those long centuries ago, and I said that John Masefield had phrased it very well in the first verse of his poem 'Cargoes'. Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine. I started on about how any self-respecting merchant in Nineveh would have found it far quicker to have sent his ivory and livestock and all that wood and wine by camel caravan direct across the desert to Palestine rather than by the long sea route round Africa, but half-way through my spiel Kate turned towards me and said she wanted to ask me something. "Last night when we were by the lift, I was waiting for you to kiss me, but you didn't". It was a blunt statement, her tone of voice making it more an accusation than a question. Hey, hey I thought, here is a girl who speaks her mind, and she will be expecting me to do the same. "Well, if I had you might have taken me as one of those guys who believe that if you buy a girl a drink you're entitled to kiss her and then get her into bed, and I don't do that". "But you were quite happy kissing me on the dance floor". "Yeah, well, that's what dance floors in night clubs are for, but I never got any signals from you that you wanted to take things any further ". Without a word she reached out and put her hands either side of my head and pulled my face right up against hers, and it took me less than half a second to realise that in spite of her cool looks Kate was the most enthusiastic kisser that I had ever met in my life. She plastered her lips almost painfully hard up against mine, moving one hand round to the back of my head to pull me in closer, twisting her own head from side to side and using an active tongue to prise my lips apart so that we could explore each others' mouths. I clamped my hands either side of her bare exposed waist just above her shorts and squeezed in so as to hold her in place and enjoy the feel of her warm body. Our attacks on each others' mouths went on and on till eventually we came up for air and she backed off and grinned at me. "So, captain, are you getting my signals loud and clear now?" I said I was, and with my hands still round her waist pulled her across in front of me and down on to my lap, facing me with her bare knees resting in the sand either side of my hips and her body right up against mine. I slid my hands round to cup her butt, she wriggled down into a comfortable position against my cock and then we were kissing and kissing again and again till my lips felt bruised and sore. Then I heard voices from a party of tourists who, with their guide, were working their way through the site towards us. We were obviously not going to get any privacy where we were, so we headed back to the car and took the coast road eastwards towards Tripoli. After a while she reached over with her near hand and started sliding her fingers up and down the inside of my exposed thigh, and I have to confess that I was rather enjoying the feeling of being felt up by an attractive woman at the same time as having to concentrate on my driving. It wasn't long before it occurred to me that when I was not changing gear I had a free hand of my own that could just as easily explore the softness of her legs, and I soon found that running my fingertips right up between them to her shorts made her wriggle about with delight, raise her bum off the seat and push herself suggestively up against my hand. She twisted sideways and brought her other hand over to start undoing the belt buckle of my shorts, but I slapped it away. "Every single driver on this road but me is an utter maniac, and there's no way I can concentrate if you carry on like that. Let's wait till I can get you into bed". She pretended innocence and asked me when that was likely to be and I said tonight, as I didn't think we should waste any more time in night clubs when we could find much more interesting things to do on our own. "Oh goody" she said "sounds like I'm gonna get fucked?" I couldn't help but laugh at her infectious, open enthusiasm and thought that if her love-making was half as energetic as her kissing I was in for an exciting time. I told her she was a cheeky monkey and said that Chuck was a real lucky guy, and that I was lucky too, having her all to myself for the night. We got back into Tripoli in the late afternoon and walked around inside the Castle, all arched corridors within the stone walls, little open air patios and terraces, pillars and tiled floors, tinkling fountains and great clouds of purple bougainvillea growing up the white walls and contrasting with the clear blue of the sky. Kate remarked that it was one of the most magical places she had ever visited, something right out of the Arabian Nights. As we walked back to the Uaddan along the promenade in front of the harbour we agreed to have a break to clean up and get changed and then go out for dinner at a restaurant I thought she would like. And then it was the age-old question - her place or mine. She was sharing a room at the Uaddan with Ellen whilst I had a company flat in town, so the choice was a no-brainer. She asked me not to pick her up till 8pm, and when I raised my eyebrows at what was going to be a near two hour break she pointed out that any girl preparing for a romantic evening would need to have a long lazy bath and then leave plenty of time afterwards to make difficult decisions on such important things as the right choices of clothes and perfume. It's a girly thing, she told me! I went back to my flat, picking up some condoms at a pharmacy on the way, had a shower, shave and a change of clothes, and tidied things up – not that I lived in a tip, you understand, but I wanted to maintain appearances, and bachelors are bachelors. Clean sheets on the bed, scented candles in holders scattered around, an appropriate record ready on the turntable and a multi-pack of Durex conveniently secreted near the bed. As a one-time Boy Scout I have always believed in 'being prepared' at all times! Coming up to 8pm I walked into the big, marble-walled atrium of the Uaddan and was waved over by Rita, my very favourite Australian receptionist. She gave me an envelope with my name on it, inside which was a very short message that had obviously been written in haste. Jim, Sorry, sorry, sorry, flying out to Alexandria at 2030 . . . crew already up at airport. Will be in touch. X Kate X Yeah, well, that's the way it is in the aviation charter business – your personal life always comes second. I knew how she felt. Only a few weeks before, I had been down at the Sailing Club on a Sunday preparing to defend my record in a regatta, and my boss had pulled me out to fly an EP-9 on a casevac to Concession 32 where a worker at a drilling rig had lost his argument with a large piece of oil-field ironmongery. It's the way things go! Though since Kate knew neither my post box address nor my surname, I couldn't see how on earth she was going to 'be in touch'. I went over to the Hollywood restaurant on Sharia 24 December, (known to expatriates as Christmas Eve Street, the day in 1949 that the United Nations gave Libya its independence after the long years of Italian occupation), the only place where I could get a decent steak not smothered in Italian sauces, and drowned my sorrows with a bottle of wine. I should have had more faith in a woman's ability to think outside the box. Coming back a few weeks later from an extended trip into the desert there was a packet waiting for me at the office that had been sent over from the Uaddan. In it was a letter from Kate and some shots of the two of us at Sabratha – she had put them into an envelope, written 'Jim, Desert Pilot' on the front and sent the whole lot in another envelope to reception at the hotel with a request to pass it on to me. She apologised for standing me up, was desolated at having missed 'our night of pleasure' and wished that we had had time to get some dinghy sailing in. I wrote back to thank her for the photos, told her that I shared her sorrows, and mentioned that I was going to Marmaris, in Turkey, on my own in early September to enjoy some sailing, and would think of her. I had told her on our trip to Sabratha that I had holidayed there the year before, staying for a couple of weeks at a British-run sailing club where I could laze by the pool or take out any of the dinghies whenever I felt energetic. I had also enrolled on a three day course on yacht sailing while I was there, obtaining my Coastal Skipper qualification and gaining a bit of experience in handling a 34 foot Beneteau. Little more than a week later I received another letter from Kate, sent to the correct post box this time, telling me that she had been dumped by her American fiancé, and asking if there was any chance of her joining me in Marmaris for a week, which was all the leave she had left. She said she intended to forget all about Chuck, was looking for lots of TLC, and reminded me that we still had some 'unfinished business' to deal with. That was Kate all over, I thought to myself with amusement, making it very clear what she wanted and what she was prepared to offer in return. I wrote back that I would love to have her join me and suggested that she obtain a brochure from the UK office of the club and then decide whether she wanted to stay at the clubhouse and make use of the dinghies and yachts on a day by day basis, or live on a yacht with me for the week with the freedom to sail anywhere we wished. As you might have guessed, I was being very crafty here! If she opted to stay on shore she could book a single room or a double one, either of which would be an indication of the way she was looking at this holiday and my part in it. And if she chose the yacht option she would be well aware that below deck there were only two cabins, a saloon - a sort of kitchen/diner - and a forward cabin beyond it containing a double bed and nothing else, with all that that implied. To my delight she said that she would love to spend a week on the yacht with me, and would I make the necessary arrangements. So that's what I did! For my first week at Marmaris I had a single room in the clubhouse, relaxing in the sun, sailing and swimming and even getting some more time in on another Beneteau with a couple who wanted an extra guy on board as capable crew in exchange for treating me to lunch at a beach bar. On Tuesday – changeover day – I went to Dalaman in the coach with the returning holiday-makers and an hour later the plane flew in from the UK with the new lot. And then Kate came through the arrivals gate, slim and delightful and smiling, carrying her gear in the soft sports bag which I had recommended as being a lot more sensible on a yacht than a hard-shell case. As we were in public we exchanged very decorous kisses and then sat side by side in the coach on the long haul back to Marmaris, chatting away and bringing each other up to date on our lives. She didn't seem to want to mention Chuck, so I let the subject drop and told her what our arrangements were for the rest of the day. After booking in at the Club we went down to our yacht, Vega, and stowed Kate's gear away, enjoying an energetic kissing session as soon as we were down in the cabins and out of sight. Quite a while later, while she was freshening up at the shower and toilet block I moved my own stuff in and then busied myself checking out the sailing equipment in the lockers. She returned and went below to change out of her travelling gear, and when she came back up the steps into the cockpit she took my breath away. Back in Tripoli we had heard all about these new-fangled miniskirts that were apparently taking the UK fashion world by storm, but this was the first time I had ever seen one in the flesh, as it were. Kate was wearing what appeared to be little more than a pelmet of some oatmeal-coloured material round her hips, beautifully setting off practically the whole length of her slim brown legs, and above it was another of those sleeveless tops knotted under her breasts that showed off her figure so well and suited her to perfection. When I got my voice back I assured her that she looked good enough to eat, and she loved the compliment! We went up to the clubhouse for the usual arrival party, introduction to the sailing staff and a buffet meal, and then slid away, anxious to be on our own. Kate put both arms round my waist and one of mine was over her shoulders, hugging her soft body up against me as we wandered slowly down through the warm evening towards the little marina. As we stopped at the top of the steps leading down to the jetty, she slid round ahead of me and leaned back against my chest, pulling my arms around her and flattening my hands underneath hers against her bare midriff. We stood for a while looking out over the moonlit sea and watching the lights of the fishing boats moving slowly through the night, and I was happy just to hold her tight, dropping kisses on her ear and the back of her neck while she made 'mmmmm' noises deep in her throat, wriggling a bit against me and letting me know without saying a word that she was enjoying what I was doing with her. Then she spoke. Mediterranean Idyll Ch. 01 "Jim, I love my job and I'm well paid for it, but when I'm on duty it's hard work the whole time, sorting things out, chasing people up, dealing with all sorts of problems. My dream holiday would be one where I could totally relax and let someone I trust make all the plans, all the decisions, all the arrangements. Can I leave the whole of this week to you, to do all the organising for the two of us however you want and simply let me come along for the ride?" "Well, that's the way it's going to be anyway" I told her, "When we are on shore we can make plans together, but most of the time we will be on the yacht. On my boat I am the skipper, and what I say goes. I give the orders, and" - with a wicked grin - " crew members are required to submit to my desires at all times". "So, what if I choose not to obey your orders?" - with a chuckle in her voice. "Then you will be guilty of mutiny, and will have to be severely punished". "Punishment?" she said "I like the sound of that". She broke away and went ahead of me down to the dockside and I gave her a slap on her bum as she went which made her jump a bit and squeak. When we got to Vega I reached over to unhook the rope between the side rails and then grabbed Kate, lifted her up in my arms, carried her symbolically across the threshold and set her down on her feet in the cockpit. She turned to face me and said "Crew reporting for duty, Captain. What are your orders?" I said that I was going to check that the boat was secure for the night before coming down below, and in the meantime she was to go down to the forward cabin, strip down to just a pair of panties and then wait for me to join her. Without the slightest hesitation she said 'Aye, aye, captain", gave me a salute and disappeared down the companion way into the saloon. Mediterranean Idyll Ch. 02 I checked all round the boat slowly, so as to give Kate plenty of time to prepare. I had put a multi-pack of condoms down in the sleeping area earlier as a hint in case she would prefer us to have safe sex and she would have seen it by this time (as I had meant her to). She had told me that she had been faithful to Chuck for the last three years, and she knew that there had been no-one for me since I had lost my virginity with Jenn, four years before, so I decided to leave it to her to bring the subject up if she wanted. Then I dropped down into the cockpit, stripped off my t-shirt and shorts, and went down into the saloon and then on into the forward cabin wearing just my briefs. There was a hatch above the bed on this boat that was set into the fore-deck in front of the mast, open a little to allow the warm night breeze into the cabin and prevent it becoming stuffy. It was translucent, letting in just enough light for me to make out the dark outline of Kate's body silhouetted against the white sheets of the bed. She was lying on her back with her eyes shut, her hands clasped together behind her head and one knee slightly raised, displaying the whole length of her almost naked body and openly inviting me to do whatever I wished with it. Standing by the bed - well, actually it was just the usual mattress on the floor, shaped to fit the narrowing front end of the cabin and with bedding on top - I pushed my briefs down over my hips and as they dropped to the floor Kate heard the slight sound and opened her eyes, stretching one arm sideways across the sheet in obvious invitation. I lay down across it and slid my own arm under her neck, my other hand reaching to cup the soft curve of her breast. Then she pulled me gently up against her body, her free hand exploring my face, her fingertips caressing feather-light down my cheek. I leaned in to kiss her forehead and then moved lower to drop kisses all the way down her nose, expecting her at any minute to explode into action the way she had at Sabratha, but she didn't! Our lips touched softly and hers moved just a little against mine, letting me know without saying a word that this time she wanted it to be slow and gentle, and I loved her for it. My free hand smoothed slowly down over her waist, across the brief panties covering her hips and then slid up and down the outside of her raised leg, gently easing it down to lie flat. Then I returned to hook a finger into the top of her panties, running it back and forth across her flat stomach from one hip-bone to the other and then back again, pushing lower each time till she lifted up her bum and let me work her briefs under and then off as she brought first one leg and then the other up to release them. In the darkness of the cabin we were exploring each others' naked bodies purely by touch, our fingers, hands and lips drifting gently over soft warm skin, floating along in a dream world of our own as we gradually became familiar with the feel of our partner's curves and hollows. Kate was still flat on her back and after a while she put her hands either side of my waist, a gentle sideways pressure telling me that I would be welcome between her legs as she slid them apart. I moved across to lie on top of her, propping myself up on my elbows so as not to be too heavy, but she gently pushed my arms apart, her first whispered words being that she wanted to feel my full weight bearing down on her body. I wrapped my arms round her head to position it for more kisses and she hooked her heels over the back of my legs and pulled them wide apart, spread-eagling herself beneath me and bringing the head of my cock up against the warm, wet entry to her vagina. Cupping my butt, she eased me gently forward and as my full length slid right up inside her she gripped my dick with her inner muscles and we lay still, savouring the moment that we had been building up to. After a while I started moving slowly, completely out and then back just that little bit inside, and then out and back in again, enjoying over and over that special feeling that comes just at the moment of entry. Kate's little moans of pleasure against my lips were making it plain that she was enjoying it too and then, all of a sudden, she pulled me fully up inside her again, the rapid movement telling me that the time for being slow and romantic was over and now she wanted some action. I started thrusting hard, jerking her body forward and back under me on the bed, and she responded beautifully, matching each thrust with grunts - unh . . . unh . . . unh . . . unh - between gritted teeth, bringing her legs up outside mine and crossing her ankles in the small of my back, and then she gasped and came, her body arching up and her mouth mashing hard against mine. I had been holding back as best I could, afraid of finishing too soon and disgracing myself, but now I let go and joined her in a frenzy of pleasure, pounding into her again and again till I had nothing left. When my wilting penis finally slid out of her well-lubricated pussy, I lifted off to lay by her side while we waited for our heartbeats to return to normal. After a while I reached out and turned her sideways away from me and brought her back to spoon up against my body. Without a word she wriggled down into a comfortable position in my encircling arms and then we slowly drifted off to sleep. The morning light coming through the hatch woke me up, and I turned my head to see Kate lying face down on top of the bedclothes and looking utterly delicious - a perfect pose, I thought, for an erotic painting by an artist specialising in female nudes. I tucked a mental snapshot of the moment away in my memory, knowing that I would bring it up again and again in years to come. As her breathing was deep and regular I figured that she was still fast asleep, so I carefully slid off the bed and went through the saloon and up the companion way into the cockpit, picking up my discarded clothes and making myself decent as I went. A quarter of an hour later I sensed occasional small movements of the yacht and then Kate appeared, climbing barefoot up the steps into the cockpit, looking tousled as if she had just got out of bed. Which, now I come to think of it, she just had! She was wearing what turned out to be her regular sailing outfit, brief denim shorts with ragged edges at the very top of those delightful legs and a sleeveless cotton top, also very short, the movement of her breasts and the small bumps of her nipples making it obvious that she was wearing nothing underneath it. After completing our toilettes we went up to the clubhouse for breakfast, on to the briefing session for all the new yacht crews and then called in at the marina shop to pick up the makings for a picnic lunch. On the way back to Vega I sat the two of us down on the steps looking out over the marina and beyond it to the open water of Marmaris bay, describing to Kate the procedure I was going to use to leave the moorings and move out to sea, and how she would be able to assist me. She was a smart girl - let's face it, she had to be in her job - and had quite a bit of sailing experience in dinghies so she soon grasped what we were going to do. Then we went down to the boat, stowed the food and drink in the coolbox in the saloon and went back on deck to get under way. Vega was moored stern on to the jetty and also had a cable out from the bow to the ship's anchor, which had been dropped several yards further out when she had been reversed back up to the jetty the previous day. We untied the two mooring lines at the stern and coiled them up neatly on deck - I like to run a tidy ship - and then I showed Kate how to start the engine, leaving her in the cockpit while I went forward, unhitched the anchor cable and started hauling on it, pulling the boat out from between the yachts on either side. When we had over-run the anchor and I signaled that it was clear of the sea bed, Kate put the engine into gear and we moved slowly out through the marina entrance and into the open water. I stayed up front for a while to warn her of any snorkelers or floating debris that she would be unable to see from her position in the stern, and when we were well away from the shore I came aft, collecting the fenders and dropping them down into the saloon out of sight. As I stepped down into the cockpit Kate moved to pass the controls over to me, but I told her to carry on and play around with the yacht for a while so as to get used to handling it. We motored down Marmaris bay, through the westernmost channel leading out into the open sea past the beach resort of Icmeler and then I took over from Kate and demonstrated manoeuvring the yacht in reverse, before letting her have a go. She made the usual mistake of finding herself pinned by the tiller up against one side of the cockpit while the throttle was out of reach on the other side, and I grinned and said it had happened to me too, when I had tried it for the first time. By now it was coming up to 12 o'clock and time to take shelter from the heat of the midday sun. Kate brought Vega close in to the coast and we dropped anchor in a small inlet on the seaward shore of the large peninsular that fills most of the southern side of Marmaris bay. She shut the engine down and then helped me secure a canvas cover over the top of the cockpit to give us shelter from the sun, after which I declared that it was time for a swim before lunch. She whipped off her top and shorts and jumped off the stern of the boat wearing just her swimsuit panties, and I followed right behind her. We swam around the yacht for a while and then she came over, put her arms right round my neck, rubbed her bare breasts seductively from side to side against my chest and offered up her lips for some hot kissing, at the same time allowing her body to drift down till it was resting full length against mine. I was doing my best to keep both our heads above water by frantically kicking with my legs, and with my dick moving against her bare stomach it was not long before I was fully erect, something I had no doubt that Kate was well aware of. Then she brought her legs up, clamped them round my hips and began pulling herself up and down on me, rubbing her pussy hard against my cock, and that was when I lost it, totally lost it and came, right there in the water. With a delighted grin on her face Kate said how much she loved the feeling of feminine empowerment that came from being clever enough to bring a guy to orgasm without having to allow him inside her first. I put on what must have been a very sheepish smile, and as we swam back to the yacht told her that she was a devious minx and that I was going to get my own back some time. I guess that 'in your dreams' would be a fair summary of her response! We towelled ourselves dry and when we were dressed again brought the food and drink up and shared a leisurely lunch of bread, cheese, yogurt, fruit and wine, after which she came across the cockpit and sat leaning back against me in the shade while we chatted. It wasn't long till the subject of our sexual likes and dislikes came up, and you have to remember here that we still had a lot to learn about each other, having made love for the first time less than 24 hours before. We agreed that man on top was great, as was woman on top, either missionary or what would in years to come be referred to as 'cowgirl'. Oral sex? - Kate had tried it and it hadn't done anything for her, which was OK by me as I had never tried it at all and somehow didn't fancy the idea. Anal sex? - a straight no-no from both of us. BDSM? - no way on the DSM but Kate had done some bondage with Chuck and said she had been turned on by it, so I filed that interesting little bit of information away for future use. Some time after 2pm we cleared away, took down the sunshade, started up the engine and motored out again into the open water. Kate brought Vega up into wind and slowed her down to just maintain steerage way while I hauled up the sails. And then we shut down the engine (and the noise that went with it) and spent the afternoon free sailing, taking turns at the helm and enjoying the sun and the sea and the warm wind, and just the pleasure of being together on our own. Our destination for the night was the beach club at Kumlu Buku, some 8 or 9 miles down the coast from Marmaris. There's a big T-shaped jetty there - easily visible these days on Google Earth - where the sea-going gin palaces and visiting tourist gulets from Marmaris can tie up on the outside of the T, leaving the inside berths to smaller yachts like ours. We arrived in the early evening, changed into shore clothes and walked from the jetty along paths through banks of flowers to the octagonal beach bar, me in a short sleeved shirt and light slacks and Kate wearing her miniskirt coupled with my favourite top, the one she knotted under her breasts, showing off the smooth brown skin of her trim waist below and plenty of cleavage up above. A couple of drinks were followed by a leisurely meal in the restaurant and then we walked slowly back to Vega through the warm starlit night, both Kate's arms round my waist again and one of mine in its usual place round her shoulders. Back on the yacht we went down into the saloon, and as we entered the much darker forward cabin I slid my hands either side of Kate's trim midriff, pulled her back up against me and whispered in her ear that it was the custom on my boats for the captain to fuck the crew every night when we were cruising. She pivoted out of my grip, saying that I would have to catch her first, her tone of voice making it very obvious that she was challenging me to do something about it. Well, no way was I going to let her get away with that! There was just enough light coming in through the hatch for me to make her out at the opposite side of the bed, so I jumped across before she could move, pulled her back into me, wrapped one arm right round her waist and clamped my other hand over her mouth to stifle her surprised yelps. It was quite some time later, after a lot of surprisingly tough but very enjoyable body to body wrestling and the removal of most of our clothes, that my greater weight finally began to tell and I was able to pin Kate face downwards on the bed, sitting astride her back and facing her feet. Both my hands were free to gradually work her panties off and then I slid clear of her to remove my own. Even then she was still fighting, gripping her legs tightly together and twisting them from side to side to prevent my entry. Eventually I had to roll her over onto her back, jam one knee hard down between her soft thighs and lever her legs apart, and at that point she finally gave in, relaxing her body, sliding her legs wider, wrapping her arms round my neck and welcoming my cock into the place where we both wanted it to be. After we broke away, Kate moved back to lie half across me with one leg in between mine and her head on my chest, whispering "Oh god, Jim, that was sooooo good. I do so love wrestling". I cuddled her up against me and as we dropped down into the well of sleep I thought to myself that I could easily get addicted to wrestling matches with naked girls. Well, with this naked girl in particular. Mediterranean Idyll Ch. 03 The long, lazy days of our holiday drifted slowly by as we meandered down the coast, the blazing heat of midday sliding into warm starlit evenings, pleasantly cool nights and then a crisp new day to wake up to. We sailed most mornings, and by lunchtime would be anchored off one of the many beaches along the coast that had a scattering of sunbathers and a shack serving snacks and drinks, or we might tie up to a small jetty and go ashore for lunch in a coastal village. One time we unfolded the rubber dinghy from its stowage in one of the lockers, pumped it up and rowed round the end of a long sandy beach into a wilderness of tall reeds and then up a small river flowing gently down to the sea past Lycian tombs that had been carved into the rock half-way up the surrounding cliffs nearly two thousand years ago. More sailing in the afternoon and then we would check in the folder provided by the Club for their recommendations for an overnight stop. Kate was an always willing, inventive and utterly delightful sexual partner, cool and well-behaved when we were in public and with no hang-ups at all when we were on our own. Over the midday period I always insisted that we both stay in some form of shade, as sitting in the open cockpit in the sun could easily lead to sunburn on shoulders, thighs and even the tops of our feet, but as the afternoons wore on she would delight me by going topless of her own accord and move into her favourite position, sitting back up against me between my legs so that I could nuzzle the back of her neck and caress her breasts with one hand while continuing to steer Vega with the other. We soon learned the best ways to turn each other on. She found a place underneath my ears where the soft pressure of her kiss and the exploration of her active tongue would turn me into a quivering wreck, and I discovered that her navel was extremely sensitive to circular movements of my fingers. We found that making love in the moonlight on a deserted sandy beach was much improved if we took a large beach towel with us to lay on, and that intercourse while floating in the sea sounded a lot more erotic in theory than it actually turned out to be in practice. Half-way through the week we turned Vega round and started back up the coast towards Marmaris, and it was during this time that I was finally able to get my own back for the embarrassment I had suffered as a result of Kate's enjoyment of 'feminine empowerment'. Because of an absence of breeze one night the forward cabin was going to be so stuffy that we had taken the bedding up onto the flat fore-deck, made slow, languorous love and then gone to sleep beneath the stars. The following morning we woke up, still completely naked under the single sheet, with Kate snuggled up against me and asking what we were going to do that day. I told her that today was pay-back time, pushed her onto her back and climbed high up astride her waist, my rapidly hardening dick lying between her breasts and my knees across her arms, preventing them from moving. She grinned up at me and said I was welcome to try but I needn't expect to get anywhere. The thin bow mooring line was coiled up just under the mattress, so I pulled it out, tied one end round one of her wrists, released her arm from under my knee and tied the wrist to a deck rail stanchion. And to my surprise she just lay there totally relaxed and let me do it! There was plenty of line left to reach across to the stanchion on the opposite side of the deck so I tied her other wrist to that one, and once again she remained completely submissive. I brought one of the mooring lines up from the stern, using it to pull her legs wide apart and secure them the same way, and then stood up to inspect my handiwork, enjoying the sight of gorgeous, desirable Kate spread out naked in the morning sun, securely tied down and completely at my mercy. I went down into the saloon and brought back my camera and a towel, and when Kate saw the camera she begged me not to take any really indecent photos that might embarrass her later. I assured her that I had no intention of doing that, folded the towel several times lengthways and laid the narrow strip of material across the tops of her thighs to protect her decency. But only just! After taking some shots I stretched out beside her and started working on her breasts, first with my hands and then with my mouth, caressing and licking and sucking and then catching her nipples between my teeth and tongue till they stood erect, a purely reflex response by her body that she could do nothing about. My fingertips ran softly down to her belly-button and circled it a time or two, resulting in a little wriggle of her stomach and an intake of breath, and then continued down across the slight stubble of her shaved pussy and in between the lips of her labia under the towel. There was plenty of lubrication there for me to wet my fingers with and then I started drawing them very slowly up and down against her clitoris. Now things were beginning to get interesting. I heard her breathe in sharply and felt her quiver on every upstroke, but apart from that she still seemed quite relaxed, her eyes shut and a small smile on her face. Then I had an idea, went back down into the saloon and came back with a part-used tub of yogurt from the coolbox. She opened her eyes and watched as I dropped a large blob of yogurt onto her navel and used it to lubricate the small depression with the tip of my finger. I was encouraged by getting more reaction from her now, making little soft noises deep in her throat and moving jerkily from side to side against the pressure of my finger, and then I bent down and started using my tongue through the yogurt and that did it. She gave a gasp, arched up and tried to twist away from me, but I cupped my hands round her hip-bones and pressed down with all my weight so that she couldn't move, and when I increased the activity of my tongue she started gabbling ohgod . . . ohgod . . . ohgod and then aaaaaahhh, and then she came. I let her recover for a while and then told her that I was going to do it again, just to make sure that she understood who was the boss around here. My hands began to wander but she pleaded with me to come inside her as a reward for my success, well aware that it was an offer that I wasn't about to refuse. I started to untie her ankles but she told me not to release her but fuck her right there, while she was still tied up. Well, if she wanted to play the helpless captive maiden being ravished by the pirate captain I was all for it, but I have to admit that my pirate turned out to be more of a pussycat as in spite of her bonds she was able to wriggle around underneath me, her body, mouth and pussy responding to my lips and cock as enthusiastically as ever. When I finally released her she came back into my arms and told me that it had been soooo good for her, and I took it as a compliment that my efforts had resulted in two 'soooo goods' in just one week. We were due to return to the marina on the Monday afternoon, in time to clean the yacht and check on the arrangements for our Tuesday departure. I had saved our last lunch for Turunc Buku, one of my favourite destinations from last year, a small inlet on the coast between Marmaris and Kumlu Buku, easily missed by boats cruising along the coast if you didn't know about it. There is a little bay with a ramshackle wooden jetty and a narrow path leading to a small restaurant perched half-way up the steep side of the enclosing coastline. A large sign describes it as the 'Yacht Club', the hoped-for impression of exclusivity rather spoilt by a slightly smaller sign saying that membership is not required to eat there. We sat on the terrace above the little bay with a couple of cold beers while our lunch was being prepared, looking down through the tangle of vine branches to Vega, tied up to a buoy below us in the brilliant sun. Kate said how beautiful it all was, and told me that she would be taking back a mental picture of the scene to last her through the cold winter in the UK. After lunch we motored back up to the marina, checked the boat in with the Club and spent our last night exploring each others' bodies all over again, just as if they were all completely new to us. I detected a tear or two on Kate's cheek in the darkness and held her close, comforting her and suggesting that we meet up again back in England on my next leave, and see where our relationship went from there. She nodded against my chest without saying anything, and then there were more tears and more comforting and later a slow, delicious rise to a dream-like gentle climax for both of us. Next day we took the long drive to Dalaman on the Club bus. At the airport Kate gave me one last hug and a soft kiss and as she disappeared into the departure hall my world suddenly seemed empty. A couple of hours later I boarded my flight to Alexandria, overnighted in the fleapit that passed for an airport hotel in those days, and the following day continued back to base on the morning Alex-Benghazi-Tripoli-Tunis flight. I gave my films to a friend who did developing and printing as a hobby - I didn't want some of my more intimate shots of Kate to be seen by assistants in the commercial outlets but hey, it's OK between friends - and went up to the office to see what they had scheduled for me. Quite a lot as it turned out, and it was nearly three weeks before I got back in from the desert and picked up my colour prints. But before I could organise copies of the best ones to send to Kate a packet arrived for me, addressed in her immediately recognisable handwriting and with an American stamp on it. Inside were some of her prints, wrapped in a letter. Dearest Jim I have a confession to make, and since there is no way to do it tactfully I won't even try. I wasn't telling you the truth when I said that Chuck had dumped me. In fact he had been offered a transfer to his head office in the US, and he wanted to take me with him so that we could marry in his home town. The plan was for me to resign my job as soon as I got back from the flight to Tripoli and Alexandria, work out my notice and then join him in the US. That is what we have done, and we will be getting married in two weeks time. Chuck has never been into sailing, and when your letter came to say that you were going to Marmaris I told him that I needed a final girly holiday before settling down to married life. When he heard that it would be a sailing one he said I was welcome to go, but hoped I wouldn't drag him along too. That suited me very well, of course, a dream holiday on a yacht in the sun with a great guy and, hopefully, a last chance of dealing with that 'unfinished business' of ours. Dear Jim, I am telling the truth this time when I say that our week on Vega was all I hoped it would be. The only way I could prevent myself feeling like a fraud because of my deception was to give myself body and soul to you for a week to let you do whatever you wanted with me, and I enjoyed the giving more than I ever thought I would. I got the impression that you rather liked it too! I trusted you to treat me right and you did, giving me something that every girl should get from their guy, that feeling of being completely loved and desired and protected. Looking back I wouldn't change a single thing, and for the rest of my life I will remember everything you did with me and to me. I hope you will not think too badly of me, and I am sure that one day you will make some lucky girl very happy indeed. Kate xxx There was no return address in the letter or on the envelope. I bought a suitable card to congratulate Kate on her marriage and posted it off to her flat in the UK, hoping that Ellen might still be living there and would forward it on. I never received a response. PS: Readers may well wonder how I have been able to remember Kate's letter word for word after all these years. Well, I didn't need to rely on my memory at all as I still have the original in my photo album, together with a discrete selection of photos of Kate and I on Vega. And further back in my records I have a similar set of pix from my time with Jenn. Luckily I have a wife who has always said that what the two of us got up to while we were both still single, footloose and fancy free was long ago and far away, water under the bridge, and our adventures during our single days simply helped to shape us into the two young people who finally met, fell in love and married in Tripoli, two years after my return from Marmaris.