American new-arrival Lydia Kennedy (36) was poised to become the new woman in the life of retired engineer Alan Meadows (43).
Lydia was the older sister of the tourist kayaker Olivia who'd met Alan briefly five weeks earlier when she'd been exploring the length of the sound. Returning home Olivia and had told her sister about the set-up that would be perfect for her - working mornings helping to refit a boat and after lunch getting back into pottery and building up a business.
She worked in the background to encourage Lydia to relocate Lydia had just arrived after being invited to visit for as long as she wished.
Lydia and Alan completed the inspection of work-in-progress of the conversion of the former fishing boat now renamed Miranda.
"Well?"
"As I indicated as we inspected the cabins and the saloon Alan, your workmanship is meticulous. I believe it has been time and money and dedication well spent."
"Any thoughts?"
"I have just two at the moment. I can't wait to spending my morning assisting with this project as it like working with my hands and the second thought is you should consult a specialist before completing the re-flooring, walls and the ceiling of the engine room. This is to be a luxury cruiser and anything to reduce vibration and the sound of the engine and allied services including air-conditioning and water pumps would be money well spent."
Alan nodded, attempting to stop allowing his eyes to rest on her breasts.
"That's an excellent idea. I can send plans of the layout and photographs to a reputable boat refit designer and I know a naval architect as my first contact to be pointed in the right direction."
"I'm pleased I'm contributing already."
Lydia held out her lips to be kissed and Alan obliged.
Back in the wheelhouse she said, "Which is my bed or do we push them together?"
Alan squared his shoulders and said with the authoritative advice of a top consultant, "I think at least initially the beds should remain separated and you should use Cabin A as your dressing room."
"Aye, aye skipper."
"What no sign of mutiny?"
"No Capt'n; I acknowledge I'm a woman who should be kept on a tight rein."
"That's excellent thinking Lydia. Sit at the table while I make coffee and then I'll scratch up a fish curry for lunch."
That evening they dined on slow-cooked lamb chops with vegetables and nuts accompanied by an exquisite pinot noir.
"Omigod this is a marriage of lamb and wine made in heaven," the newcomer raved.
"Yeah pretty good eh," her host said modestly. "I just put things in the slow-cooker and then virtually all I had to do was to serve and pour the wine. Bachelors find the easy ways to cook."
They finished and Alan announced, "There is no desert because I wish to remain fairly lean."
"Good for you and be advised I usually only eat desert on Saturday night. Pull your chair out because I wish to sit on your knee."
"Um Lydia is that advisable; shouldn't we be proceeding slowly with our relationship?"
"Fuck going slowly Alan and blame yourself for the pre-dinner cocktail and pouring wine down my throat."
He protested and said she'd poured at least two glasses herself.
"What's the difference darling; we are both into this together."
He appreciated that conspiratorial tone of that but wished she'd back off and slow right down because as a virtual loner for weeks on end he had the feeling he was being engulfed
Alan sat innately with her a wriggling jellylike lump on his lap.
"God have you been castrated?"
Alan's face burned.
"Come on," she said, a scooped out a breast and pulled his hand on to it
As his warm breath delivered a mini pant on her exposed breast she said, "Oooh Alan you're alive."
He was unable to keep fooling himself he wasn't interested and acting virtually on auto his thumb and first finger captured the inflated nipple and squeezed.
"Oooh," she said encouragingly and bent down and nibbled and sucked his left ear lobe.
Alan attempted to tune into the situation with a little more enthusiasm.
It was unrealistic to cling to the past and refuse to acknowledge the world was changing just as women were, being pushed by the younger generation coming through.
He'd dated his wife-to-be she for almost three months before she first bared a breast to him and at least another month after that before she squeezed his hand down between her legs.
Phew these modern young and confident women were almost overwhelming, judging by this example of present-day energetic womanhood sitting on his lap. If Lydia was truly representative of her generation and that was what equality was all about then good on then.
But did it have to be so fast?
Hey wait a minute, weren't they both in the same generation? Oh yeah. Then one of them of them must be grown-up and the other wasn't or perhaps he just was aged flotsam bobbing about on the tidal outer fringe?
Lydia licked inside Alan's ear and that switched something within him. He immediately thought of part of a quotation in distant memory about a phallus arising.
Yes it was rising and to think the cheeky woman had earlier expressed surprise that he appeared to be alive. Well she might regret her sarcasm with this hot dick up her spout.
"Oh gee Alan, I can feel it pressing into my butt. May I touch it?"
What would be her reaction if he said yes? She might say he was such a slut.
He was attempting to frame passive-sounding objection about her licking his ear when she lifted and clamped a hand around the lump in his pants.
"Oooh," he drawled, sounding pleased whereas he should have rebuked her for being unacceptably forward.
"Oh Alan," she cooed. "I feel the heat of you; that tells me how much you want me."
What?
She was away ahead of him.
"Shall we do it on the table?
Omigod this was a crisis; it was days too soon for penetration.
He said firmly, "No."
"Yes I agree," she purred, standing and taking his hand. "Come let's flop on to the bed and show me how you handle a situation like this."
Almost in a daze, Alan allowed himself to be led along and at last he was becoming fired up, his inexplicable resistance collapsing; he was now anticipating fucking her.
Gee she was such a slut and it should be a pleasure banging her, allowing her to wallow in her self-generated lust.
They reached the bedside with Alan becoming doubtful the lively lass would be satisfied with quiet administration in the missionary position when she reached over, grasped his far wrist, jerked that arm up high and then swung her nearest hip into the top of his thigh and he felt himself flying in an arc.
He landed on his back and she appeared seamlessly to follow, landing between his legs with a thump. Her softness squashed over his chest and somehow without a painful collusion her face hit his face and her tongue filled his mouth.
Jesus, she was a predator.
He waited anxiously wondering if it were called rape when a female took a guy by force and would it hurt and leave him feeling grossly humiliated.
Hell his erection hurt and appeared attempting to be attempting to push through their clothing and straight into her stomach.
Lydia pulled her dripping tongue from Alan's mouth, much to his relief.
She smiled down at him, affectionately he thought, and said, "Gotcha."
"What?"
"If I hadn't taken the initiative I would have waited around morosely for days or as my sister said perhaps for weeks, before you decided in a spurt of passion to try to fuck me."
"What me wait to get my end into a lush like you," Alan said rather creatively.
"Oh darling, that's more like it," she said a dabbed her wet lips on to the tip of his nose.
He decided not to rebuke her for calling him darling and for the second time so soon in their relationship; she was such a tough bitch she might crack him one and that would tumble them into rampant sex with her becoming a dominatrix.
Oh god, he groaned to himself, wondering why his thinking had gone crazy.
In a honeyed voice she said, "Darling I've got you where I want you or rather where we should be. Don't you think you should now be initiating tenders sexual advances leading to us coupling?
"That's a damn good idea otherwise we'd feel idiotic locked together like this," he laughed and thinking it was time to soak in a good fuck; well he was weeks overdue for one.
"You know masturbation is not all it's cracked up to be."
God had he said that, to a near total stranger.
She laughed and said she agreed, that some toys were useful as were a girlfriend's fingers and tongue but nothing could equal a rampant hot cock attempting to prove itself to the recipient.
"God what am I saying," she coloured. "We scarcely know each other."
"True but I suspect we are doing a damn good job of upping the ante," he said, reaching down and unzipping.
* * *
They awoke to the dawn chorus of birds in the afforestation around the residential site and returning from the bathroom Alan noticed the two beds had been pulled together during the night.
Lydia lay naked with her legs apart, her pussy with a tuft a hair above it, appearing at the ready.
"Are you interested in going again?"
"Ooh yeah," he said with small boy enthusiasm that made Lydia giggle.
He stretched and said he thought he'd lost a couple of pounds of weight overnight.
She sighed and said well some of the lost weight had gone into her as semen.
"What didn't I use condoms?"
"No I said I couldn't wait for you to go and rummage for one and we both felt we were safe."
"Ah yes, I remember now and you trilling 'Flip that was a gusher."
She smiled and said well so it was; it was a little like a dam had burst.
He asked nervously, "And you are on a contraceptive?"
"Aye, aye Capt'n."
