Experienced skipper and former soldier Captain Max Krueger boarded his 80-foot schooner, currently berthed in the marina between charter bookings. He broke out a brush and fresh-water hose and set about swabbing the decks, preparing for the next trip. The charter guests would be arriving on board soon. He was a captain who didn't mind pitching in to help with the endless chores of keeping a vessel ship-shape. His mind wandered as the sweat poured from him, so he was surprised to look up and see a guest, the Indigenous American actress Minnie Clearwater, standing under the shade of the aft cabin awning, watching him with those dark, gorgeous eyes.
"Jesus Christ, you startled me!"
"I got bored," Minnie mewed. "Silly old script. I'm done learning lines on shore. I came aboard early. Besides, the view from here is much better." And it was true, thought Minnie, she had been admiring this strong, hard-looking man... his hairy, tanned, scarred body, his battered but attractive features, the sheer masculinity of him. "You don't mind me being here, do you?"
"Well, no, of course not." Max's heart was beating like a teenager's on his first date.
Minnie stepped nearer, hoping to smell his sweat, which ran off him in rivulets like condensation off a cold beer. "It's so hot," she sighed.
He playfully turned the hose on her, and within seconds she was squealing and giggling, cavorting on the hot decks, soaking wet, her flimsy blouse and slacks plastered to her full contours. The tips of her nipples were dark and thrusting, the round mounds of her buttocks like two taut hillocks under her pants. Max dropped the hose. His men were on the way back to the beach in the launch. Only he and this wild vixen of American Indian heritage were on board. He caught her slender wrist in his big paw.
She looked into his pale eyes and knew she had gone too far to stop now. If she struggled, he would overpower her. She felt his strength, and moaned.
