A Drowning The Sequel

This is a sequel to A Drowning. Enjoy.

The original story can be found at: http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=297115

*

During the early morning hours, they had kept warm under the frayed fabric. Crafted from the thinnest of nylon cloth, the sail now softly outlined her body, exposing only the rusty strands of hair. The pair had mimicked an old married couple, fighting for custody of the sparse blanket, her long limbs finally winning the struggle before sunrise. They slept, coiled together, between the twin hulls, until the sound of fish darting on the water's surface, had fragmented the morning air. He looked over the side, watching the small shapes hurrying for shelter. As he stirred, she awoke, holding him tighter against her breasts

"Good morning love," she said, stifling a yawn, and bringing her knees up into his bottom, "How long have you been awake?"

"Just now-something's disturbing the wildlife. The sound woke me." I answered, as I rose, clearly seeing the water.

She turned over on her side, wiping the night from her eyes, and following my gaze, she burst out, "Look, they're dolphins; they must have come into the cove this morning to hunt. They're beautiful."

The pod circled the catamaran, tracking the small silver fish that had taken refuge under the boat. Twisting and leaping when the prey presented an opportunity; producing excited chirps and squeals that echoed off the metal hulls.

The girl crawled to the side of the boat. "Listen," she erupted, "They're talking to us."

"What a romantic, I've hooked up with," I complained. "And even if they wanted to speak to us, what would they be saying?"

"I think they would be saying that this cove is wonderful, that you're handsome, and that I shouldn't let you go, ever." she answered, sitting upright looking into my face, more serious now, she questioned, "Do you think we've hooked up?"

"I don't know what else to do. I can't very well let a girl who listens to fish go wandering the sea. However, believe me, the fish lie, or at the least, they need a good optometrist. Have you really looked at my face?" I asked, laughing from the easy silliness between us.

She pushed me hard to the edge of the rub rail, giggling at the image of dolphins wearing bi-focals.

She placed her sweet hand on my face, outlining the edges of my broken nose, tracing the scares along my chin, the roughness of her hand mirroring the lines in my skin. "Stop calling them fish, you know they're magnificent mammals, and I think they see just fine," she said, smiling as she pulled my mouth toward her lips, searching with her tongue for the center of fire. We kissed until breathless, and only then, pulled apart.

Her face was flush with excitement, her breath coming in gasps. I forced her body back onto the netting. I leaned over and placed the lightest of a kiss on the hollow of her throat. She responded by lifting her chin, further exposing the sensitive flesh. Another kiss followed, lower on the divide of her breasts. Causing the long auburn strands of her hair to flail, partially concealing her face. She flung her head to the side, breath exploding from her clenched lips. I delayed exploring the taut breasts, selfishly hurrying, to reach the darkness hidden below. Employing what little restraint remaining, the next kiss was placed on her firm belly, only inches from the soft mound of hair that drove my search.

Her hands closed around my head, impatiently encouraging and even forcing me lower. The last kiss was placed on the core of her femininity, the moist fragrant target of my lust. Without a need to guide me further, she removed her hands and grabbed the netting above her head. Her fingers intermeshed with the ropes, readying to thrust her hips forward. My tongue explored her damp slit, touching the softness of the lips; first circling the insides, then probing deeper, always searching for the point of no return. As the tip of my probe touched her swollen clit, her body arched, and she screamed garbled obscenities and broken pronouncements of lewdness that ignited my lust even further.

I rose from the sweetness, spread her knees apart, and guided my cock toward her moist hole when a sheet of water drenched us, extinguishing our passion, and shocking us back to reality. Soaked, I turned to see a large dolphin leaping in the air, applauding himself at the joke. I envied his effortless passage through the water. I hated him for the wet interruption.

"I've got some opposition," I complained, frustrated, as my shaft withered. I watched the dolphin break the surface again, throwing additional gallons of water into the air.

Determined to continue our coupling, yet still breathing with some difficulty, she uttered, "Let's swim to the beach, at least, it'll be quieter. Besides, there's something I want to show you." Still shaking from the excitement, she grabbed my hand, and prepared to dive from the bow. I hesitated, holding her arm, looking at the distant beach.

She looked back at my face and giggled, "You're not worried about your competition, are you?" I continued to scan the shore, measuring the distance. She realized I wasn't smiling, paused, then offered, "Let me break out the dink. We'll motor over. It'll be like an afternoon on a summer-time lake."

"No, it's fine, we'll swim," I answered, with more assurance in my voice than I felt. As we prepared to make the leap, I stopped her again and said, "Love, stay close."

"I will," she swore.

As we dived into the clear warm water, a throng of silvery-gray shapes darted away from us in every direction. Before I realized that the dolphins had deserted us, my head broke the surface, and I swam. I had total focus on the distant beach; a goal that appeared tiny on my horizon. Something touched my shoulder and I turned to see her gliding, with little exertion, close to me. She was on her side, moving her limbs slowly as I battled with the water. Avoiding my thrashing arms, she carefully rolled me onto my flank, speaking as we swam, "Relax. Let the water carry you, support you. You're treating it as an enemy."

My flailing lessened as her words calmed me. "Much better. Now, I want you to roll over on your tummy as you swim, open your eyes, and watch the bottom. I'll be here, next to you," she instructed. Obeying her, I turned and opened my eyes, staring at the incredible rich tapestry of the coral bottom. I'd seen coral reefs before but always hanging by a tether, usually scrubbing growths off my boat's bottom. Now, floating over this translucent realm, attached to nothing, gently kicking toward the shore, I was lost in the forms and colors below.

Concentrating on a small school of bright blue fish, I was startled when her face appeared below me. Gliding beneath, her long auburn hair flowing in the current, she smiled then rose to cover my mouth with hers. She sealed her lips tightly to mine, releasing a stream of air into my lungs, forcing a torrent of bubbles to explode above us. Parting from my lips too quickly, she pointed ahead where I could see the base of breakers underwater cascading on the sand. We had reached the beach.

"You where great," she said, climbing out of the water and lying back on the dark sand.

"Yea, I didn't sink," I responded, controlling the glow in my chest, and the ridiculous grin ready to smear my face. For the first time, the water had felt great.

"This is what I wanted to show you," she said, pointing out the long expanse of beach. "The cliffs behind us are part of an ancient volcano. That's why the beach is almost black. Somehow, feldspar got into the mix so you have all the little sparkles. So much for the geology lesson but on a moonlit night, I've seen this beach shin like the stars in the sky."

For all her outward toughness, a child's joy bubbled from her face as she remembered nights anchored in the cove. "Now, you're here to share it with me." She slide closer, inching through the volcanic sand, and laid her head on my shoulder. She touched my chest with her palm. "Do you know how the dolphins mate?" she asked, continuing without expecting an answer, "When I swam under you, the dolphins must have thought we were making love. I think they may have been jealous." She leaned over me and lightly kissed my mouth, lingering, brushing her lips across mine. "Last night, when you tied me down, you threatened to fuck my mouth. I want that" she barely whispered.

Over the Sierra Madras, the thunderstorms had continued to build, blocking the sun, and yet, the dark sand still harbored the morning's warmth. Her body slid down, her eyes examining my face, until her mouth was next to my hard shaft. Still watching my face intently, she carefully moved her moist tongue along the backside of my member, lower and lower, until it rested on my sack. The fierce pleasure forced my head back and I closed my lids, enjoying the warmth of both her tongue and the sand.

"Do you still want to fuck my mouth?" she whispered hoarsely, slowly moving her lips across my swollen testicles.

"Yes, I want to fuck your mouth." I grunted, struggling to get the words out. The sound of rumbling thunder over the mountains barely covered the moans from my throat.

The wind had increased, blowing the surf around my feet, the water beginning to cover her legs as she took my cock into her mouth. Her lips closed gently, enclosing the shaft, as her tongue licked the back of the glands, her saliva running down the shaft. My hips involuntary thrusted upward, forcing my cock deeper into her throat. She gagged, then hungrily sucked deeper. The tide pushed higher onto the beach, covering my legs, lapping at my thighs, until finally, as the first ripples of warm sea touched my testicles, my semen exploded into her mouth. She frantically moved her head up and down as my cum spilled from her lips, mixing with the green foam flowing across my belly. She rose, gasping, fighting to fill her lungs, and then dropped her head on to my chest. As the water finally covered my cock, washing all traces of cum back into the sea, a flash lit the beach, then droplets impacted around us; a few small beads at first, then cold angry globs attacked the sand.

We ran into the underbrush, huddling together, and watched the storm spread across the cove. Holding her tightly, I said, "It's a chabasso, shouldn't last long. Are you warm enough?" Her head, cradled closely to my chest, nodded softly.

As the storm settled, and the wind lessened, a small blue spot appeared through the clouds. She squirmed in my arms, kissed my neck softly and said, "Love, I'm going to swim back to the boat and get us a blanket, a little food, maybe a bottle of wine. I'll bring everything back in the dink. Can you find us some dry firewood? I want to cook you something. I'm feeling domestic."

"I'll come with you, "I said.

"No, it's alright, just find us some wood. It'll be our first picnic." She insisted, then wadded through the surf, plunged into the water and swam strongly toward the cat. I watched her quickly close the gap, she reached the boat, and swung up to the deck where she entered the cabin.

While searching the underbrush for wood, I heard the low noise of a motor. "That was quick," I thought as I hurried back through the thickets, gathering driftwood as I went. I cleared the shrubs, just stepping onto the edge of the beach, expecting to see her motoring back, when I froze and slowly lowered the sticks to the ground. Instead of her silly grin, there was a long metal panga, loaded with men, slowly circling the catamaran. In the bow of the boat, reclining in a broken lounge chair was the fat man. I slid back into the undergrowth, watching the craft.

The men in the opened boat continued to circle the cat, laughing, and making obscene gestures with hands on their crouches. I knew there was only one chance for her. I made a leap for the beach, waving my arms as I ran, when I saw her rush from the hatch and dive off the railing, swimming toward the far shore. The men in the panga saw her at the same instant and raced the engine to intercept. With a darkening gloom in my soul, I thought, 'I can't help you now. Why did you try to make the other shore, babe?' I crawled back into the underbrush and watched them hunt her down. I clenched my teeth and swore, 'Stay alive and I'll get you out, no matter what.'

The chase was short. Being cautious, no one enter the water to stop her. Instead, heavy loops of rope were thrown at her swimming form until one rope curled around her throat, and they pulled her in, much as they would any trophy. She fought as they brought her aboard, but the fat man ended it quickly with a blow to her head from a heavy fish baton. Then they were gone, leaving only the oily exhaust fumes drifting onto the beach.

I needed to cry, scream, or hurt something to ease the helplessness. I was kicking pieces of firewood across the beach and into the water when I smelled something more acrid than the motorboat's exhaust. Looking up and across the cove to where the lone catamaran swung, I saw the first wisp of smoke coming from the cat's cabin. Plunging into the water, I swam with a determination born of grief. "Why didn't I save her?" I cried, "Why didn't I save her?" I had fought most of the way across, when a dark form cast a shadow over my struggling body.

"Hey amigo, catch this line, we'll pull you out," A short figure above yelled to me. Several men hauled me onto the deck of their large shrimp trawler. As I was brought aboard, the Captain poured on the diesel, and closed on the burning cat. Looking back at me, he yelled, "Is that not Missie's boat? You know the skinny gringo girl. Is she inside?" he demanded.

Coughing saltwater out of my lungs, I gasped, "No, the fat man took her."

"That son-of-a-bitch, someone needs to kill him," he spat.

The trawler was soon next to the catamaran, allowing the deckhands to jump aboard, and fight the fire. Without regards to his safety, the Captain was first, spraying the flames with an ancient extinguisher, and stomping the remaining embers with the soles of his high fishing boots. Afterwards, gritty with ash, he approached me, demanding the details of the abduction. I told him everything that had happened, confessing my failings in the process.

The small man placed his hand on my shoulder and quietly said, "My friend, you did everything you could. But now, you must go after her before the fat man has a chance to..." The Captain didn't finish the sentence, but paused, then added, "The fat man is very bad. He has no respect for women but fears men. That fear is his weakness." With that said, he rose, clapped his hands, demanding the attention of everyone, and began to shout orders. The crew jumped to their assignments, collecting the tools, materials, and equipment necessary to repair the catamaran. By late afternoon, the Captain issued his pronouncement to all of us, "She's not pretty, but she'll still run fast." He put his short arms around me, squeezed me into his chest, and said, "Good luck. May the Virgin Mother protect you." As he released me, he looked toward the west, where a low bank of clouds was building, and said, "Go fast, my friend."

The girl's eyes tried to focus on the dull lights, two small points of paleness that swung back and forth. She closed, then reopened her eyes and the points converged to emerge as a single bulb; a blurry naked light bulb hung from the ceiling, she thought. She blinked again but a haze still clouded her vision. Licking her cracked lips, she tasted the salty dried blood that had ran from the top of her head, over her eyes, and finally across her mouth. As she began to cry from the pain, her tears washed the caked blood from her eyes; she could see now but wished she could not. About her lay the trash of a fishing camp. Worn lines coiled around the edges of the shed, crab cages carelessly stacked, and all manner of discarded items filled the voids. There was an intense pain in her shoulders. As she moved to lessen the burning, she discovered her hands bound, wrapped with a course mooring line strongly secured to a rafter. Someone had attempted to tear her blouse off but had only succeeded in forcing it above her shoulders. The tattered blouse hung around her stretched arms. Her shorts lay on top of her feet.

As she recognized her nakedness, a greasy voice said, "Ah Missy, you awake?"

She raised her head, flinching again from the pain, and recognized the figure of the fat man. He walked toward the girl, hesitated as he neared, then said, "You kick me little whore and I'll knock your head off. You comprehende?" He raised the thick club to her stomach, stained from her blood, and pushed the fat end into her flesh. The girl groaned aloud from the pain, and watched the fat man grin. She closed her mouth, determined not to satisfy him. Disappointed, he lowered the club and pushed it between her legs, forcing the blunt wood in. "You like that little one?" he grunted, his lust to hurt her building. "How 'bout I turn you over and shove it up your little ass?" he demanded. She could not stop the tears, knowing that he could, and would. Finding her weakness, the fat man smiled, when there was a pounding on the shed's door.

"Boss, there's some trouble on the dock." A nervous voice said through the door.

The fat man turned, angry to be interrupted, and yelled, "What kinda trouble?"

"You need to come take a look. There's a bunch of men, fishermen, and captains. They all want to know what you're going to do with the girl. I told them it was none of their business but they won't listen." The boss's man explained.

The fat man stormed through the door, irritated at the interruption, livid that anyone would question his actions, and then he saw the crowd. The group had gathered in front of the icehouse, many with arms crossed, others wildly gesturing, all loudly complaining about the owner's unfairness. The boss picked the most vocal and approached him, using his imposing size to quickly silence the man.

"Sanches, how is it you have time to loiter around the docks? What happens tomorrow when you need to fish? Do you have fuel or do I loan you more? Maybe you think the little girl will loan you money. Will she take care of you and your family as I have?" The fat man asked, not waiting for an answer as he hastily turned his attention to another fisherman. "You Patrick, when is that payment due on your boat? Oh yes, I remember now", he grinned, "it was due last week." His eyes settled over the crowd. "If you believe the gringo can provide for your families as you catch worthless little crabs from the rocks, without boats, without fuel, by all means, come and take her." He announced, widely opening his massive arms. The group of men fell silent as the fat man continued, "But first look behind you at those black clouds in the west. All of you know what they mean. I think you should worry more about the safety of your boats, your families, and less about a little cunt. My friends, I'm afraid you have bigger things to fight-there's a hurricane on the way."

The crowd had ignored the darkening horizon until then. Now, the realization of what could come was forced upon them. First a single person, then small groups, and eventually, almost all in the crowd hurriedly returned to their own concerns, abandoning the woman. All scurried away but one.

"Manuel," the fat man sneered, "Haven't you got a boat to clean?" The squat Mexican watched the fat man's face, hating him for what he had done to the woman, but he also turned, and went back to his chores.

"Fucking peasants," the boss thought, "Why do I waste my time around these people? I should be in the city with men of class, men like me."

The large waves, pursuing the catamaran, had been growing since sunset. No longer seeing the angry broken whitecaps, he could only feel their results, trying to force the cat's bow under the sea. He had more canvas up than was safe and any other day, he would have battened down, deployed the sea anchor and waited out the storm-but this was no other day. The metal rigging screamed from the force of the wind, when, through the dense rain, he recognized the headland's faint beacon. Approaching the cut, he saw the surf breaking over the entrance's shoal, surging twelve feet high; the tops of the waves, packed with broken froth, were being blown apart by the furious wind. Only a fool would try to enter.