The Deep Sea

"You know," she said, just after they'd cast off and as they were heading for the mouth of the harbour, "I've never understood those girls who'd jump a man just because he had a big fancy sports car."

He didn't say anything, just carefully adjusted the wheel to maintain their course.

"I've known a few of them," she went on. "It's really embarrassing to watch them, honestly. All cool and controlling with most men, but one glimpse of something with an open top and just two seats, and they're all

Ooh, can I have a ride?

and

I bet that's really fast.

Forget subtlety; they might just as well hand over their knickers. In fact, one of them I knew used to boast about leaving her knickers in the car."

He glanced at her, but just shrugged, still saying nothing.

"After all," she said, "everyone says a car like that is just a ... substitute. Doesn't it occur to them that if a man needs a

substitute,

the thing it's substituting

for

probably isn't up to scratch?"

She paused and drew breath as they passed through the harbour mouth.

"What about a yacht?" he asked in the silence.

"Do you know, I'd never really thought about that?" she answered. "But I guess it has to come in the same category, really, doesn't it? Only it's an even bigger substitution, which I guess must make it worse."

"I guess it must," he agreed. "Look, if this is making a point, I'm not arguing. I don't assume..."

She ignored what he was saying and interrupted him. "Have you ever known any girls like that?" she asked.

"I've met one or two," he admitted.

"You missed a chance just now."

"How's that?"

"Didn't you see those two down the other end of the quay? The blondes in the infeasibly skimpy bikinis? I think that they were annoyed when you asked me aboard. Talk about looks-could-kill."

"I can't say I really noticed them."

"If I decide to believe that, you'll score bonus points."

He shrugged. "Anyway," he said, shutting down the engine now that they were in open water and clear of any other boats, "we have to go below decks now."

She shrugged and climbed down the ladder that led from the raised bridge. He shut down the bridge controls and followed her, closing, sealing, and double-checking the hatch as he went. When he arrived below, he discovered her lounging on a couch, glancing out of the large starboard viewing window, which was currently on the waterline.

"Excuse me," he said, and went forward to the alternate controls.

"There's a story," she said to him from the couch, "I think that it's about Winston Churchill or somebody. Let's say Churchill anyway."

He settled in the control seat and re-started the engine, set the vessel moving forward slowly, then started a set of pumps. "Okay -- go on," he called as he worked.

"It seems that he was at a dinner party, and he turned to the woman next to him -- some very posh lady -- and said, 'Madam, would you go to bed with me for a million pounds?'"

"Right," he said, as the vessel settled lower in the water. Glancing back, he saw that she was standing, and that she'd moved up to the viewing window, which was now fully submerged.

"And the posh lady thought about it, and she nodded, and said, 'Actually, I suppose that I would.' So Churchill nodded back, and said 'Would you go to bed with me for a fiver?'"

"I think that I've heard this one," he said. They were fully submerged now -- the water would even be over the bridge -- but still shallow enough that the full summer sun glowed through the blueness of the sea.

"The grand lady got angry at that," she continued, ignoring his response, "and she said, 'Really, do you take me for a tart?'"

"And Churchill said..." he prompted.

"'

Madam, we have already established that; now, we are merely haggling over the price.'

"

He laughed as he carefully adjusted the controls so that the vessel settled smoothly on the sea bed, then cut the engine. "It's a good story," he said, as he got up from his control seat and went to join her at the viewing window, which now looked out on a sun-dappled reef. A shoal of fish swam past.

"Yes," she agreed. "But it also makes a very good point. Everyone has their selling price, I'm afraid, whatever they might think of people whose price is a bit lower. And I've found mine today."

"Mmm-hmm," he said, standing beside her to look out at the undersea world but not touching her.

"I mean," she said, "a

private submarine

. I mean,

fuck.

" She looked at him with a wry expression. "And by the way, I do mean that literally. If you want."

He looked at her and nodded, very slightly. Then he stepped over to her and kissed her.

"Thank god for that," she said when he lifted his mouth from hers. "If I'd reeled off all that stuff, and it'd turned out that you weren't trying to get into my knickers... I'd have felt like a bloody idiot."

"My intentions are pretty dishonourable," he said.

She grinned quickly, then began unbuttoning the plain white blouse she was wearing. She continued as he led her back to the couch. When all the buttons were undone, she paused, and he slid his hand inside. She was wearing a fairly substantial white bikini top under the blouse, and he ran a finger along the edge of one cup, caressing her breast gently.

"Mmm," she said, and brushed his cheek with the back of one hand. "So, is that what this is for, this submarine? A babe trap?"

"In a way," he said, "partly."He moved her blouse slightly out of the way so he could lean in and kiss her shoulder.

"Oh," she said, sounding slightly disappointed, although she raised no objection to what he was doing to her shoulder. "It's quite a big expensive babe trap, isn't it?"

" I guess," he admitted, pausing from kissing her.

"So what sort of ... babes ... do you need a whole submarine to catch?"

"Well," he said, looking her in the eye, "look at what it's caught me today."

"Oh," she said. "Damn. Guess I walked into that one, didn't I? But I'm not the sort of person that someone who can afford a whole submarine would be interested in."

"Yes you are," he said, "demonstrably." He sat back, but put one arm around her shoulder. "If you mean that you're not some fabulously high-maintenance beach bunny who only latches onto millionaires... Well, I guess not. But I could catch those with a Ferrari, or an ordinary yacht that only cost half what this did."

"You have known a few, then?"

"I guess," he admitted, "before I got bored. But a submarine... It's not just about the money, is it?"

"Isn't it? No, I guess it isn't. I was amazed when I saw this in the harbour and realised what it was. It must be unique."

"Not quite, but almost." He used his free hand to cup her breast. "But anyway, I saw the way you looked at it, and that's what interested me."

"But I'm not... I mean, I don't look anything like as good as most of the girls on the beach. Not as good as those two on the quay, honestly."

"You look fine..."

"Oh, lay off the flattery." She ran a hand absent-mindedly along his thigh as she spoke. He wondered if she realised that it was moving closer and closer to his groin. "I look like what I am. You know what that is?"

"What?"

"A

librarian.

"

She scowled as he laughed despite himself. "Nothing wrong with that," he said. "Perfectly good job. Though you

don't

really look the part."

"Really? Oh, you mean, no glasses."

"Exactly," he admitted.

"I think I'd understand better if I did have glasses, actually," she said, looking him in the eye and clasping the top of his thigh. "I'd assume that you were fantasising about taking them off me, and me turning out to be beautiful."

"There's plenty more I can fantasise about taking off you," he said.

"Yeah, that's another thing," she said. "I'm not exactly flashing as much flesh as the beach bunnies with the infeasible bikinis, am I?"

"Give me some credit for imagination."

"I guess I have to. You're the one with the submarine." She stood up and stepped over to the window again. "God, it is amazing," she said.

"Nice legs," he said from the seat behind her.

"Thanks," she said, and turned around to face him. "Okay," she said, and finished taking the blouse off, dropping it on the deck. Then she kicked off the leather sandals she was wearing, took a deep breath, and unfastened and removed her rather baggy shorts. She stood in front of him, stripped to a fairly substantial white bikini, and gave him a challenging glare.

"Nice generally," he said, kicking off his own deck shoes. Then he stood up, pulled off his polo shirt, and removed his trousers, leaving him in just a pair of silk boxer shorts.

She looked him up and down appraisingly, then stepped over to him and pressed her body against his. He put his arms around her and went to kiss her, but she turned her head aside.

"Is this thing really a librarian trap?" she asked.

"Partly," he repeated. "It selects for more than the urge to catch a millionaire, you know? It's not just for catching high-maintenance beach bunnies; it gets me the sort of woman who'll

only

be attracted by a submarine. Not because it costs a lot of money, but because, well, it's a submarine."

"Okay," she admitted, "like I said,

fuck

." She let him kiss her mouth. "You got me," she admitted.

"Good," he said, and now she let him kiss her. As he did so, he unfastened her bikini top behind her back. She broke the kiss and stepped back from him, leaving the garment in his hands. He dropped it atop her shorts and blouse. "Not bad," he said, staring frankly at her breasts.

"They're a bit saggy," she said, studying his face as she spoke.

"They're proper breasts," he said.

She stepped over to him again and pecked him quickly on the cheek. "Sit down," she said. He obeyed, and she dropped into a crouch, reaching toward her clothes "Lie back and shut your eyes," she said, and he obeyed that, too.

A moment later, he felt his boxer shorts being removed, and then lips and tongue brushing his balls and the base of his cock. He realised that he had a full erection already.

"Nice," she said. "Keep your eyes shut."

There was a pause, than a gentle, warm touch embraced the tip of his cock. After a moment, he felt more of his erection being engulfed, and the touch became firmer -- tight, even, but delightfully so. He sighed happily, and gradually -- but not too gradually -- fully half his length felt that wonderful grip. Then she paused, and he felt her holding the base of his cock with her hand.

"You can look now," she said, and he opened his eyes in time to see her reach up with her other hand and finish rolling the condom which she must have put on with her mouth the rest of the way down his length.

"God," he said, "that was slick."

"I'm a librarian," she said with a shrug as she stood up. "We may not be the best lookers, but we're supposed to do the reading."

"So you got that from a book?"

"Yes," she said. Then she let the cool façade slip a little. "Well, originally," she added.

She put her hands to her waist, dropped her bikini bottom, lifted it from the floor with a toe, and flipped it onto the heap of other clothes. Her bush was untrimmed, and matched the auburn of the mid-length hair on her head. "Ready?" she asked.

"God, yes," he breathed.

"Good," she said, and advanced to kneel astride him on the couch. Then she reached down with one hand and took hold of his wrapped cock as he reached up with two hands to fondle her breasts.

"Not bad," he repeated. She didn't say anything, but guided his erection to the entrance of her cunt. Then she sank down, engulfing him entirely in one slow movement.

"Ooh," she said.

"Mmm," he agreed. Then he noticed that she wasn't looking at him, but was staring at the other, port-side viewing window. "You know," he said, "I'm beginning to think that you only want me for my submarine."

She glanced down at him. "Don't complain," she said, and rolled her hips gently. He responded by thrusting up into her in the same rhythm. She went back to looking at the underwater scene, but she didn't stop moving.

"Mmm," she said, "that's really quite amazing..."

"What, this, or ... the sea?" he asked.

She looked at him and smiled coolly. "I'll let you worry 'bout that," she said, but then leaned forward to bring her face closer to his. "But like I said before ... I mean ... fuck. Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuuuuck!"

Now, he could believe that she was really involved with the sex, and the gentle squeezing he could feel being applied to his cock by her cunt suggested that she was concentrating. He moved one hand down to her hips while leaving the other fondling her breasts, and accelerated the motion of his own hips. Her breathing grew deeper and faster, and her expression more relaxed. Sensing that he'd found the rhythm that she liked, he maintained it until she gave a soft gasp and more or less collapsed on top of him. Almost instantly, though, she raised herself up again and grinned at him, rotating her hips with a murmur of "that's right..."

Her second orgasm was more or less a repeat of her first, except that she was gasping even more deeply afterwards. By then, though, he found that his cock was throbbing with pleasure, and he lifted his torso up a little, ending up with his face buried in her breasts. Taking one nipple in his mouth, he thrust and tongued his way to his own orgasm, pulsing inside her for several seconds before he collapsed back with a groan and with his eyes closed.

When he opened them again, it was to see that grin of hers. "Not bad, lover," she said, "not bad at all."

They lay together for a few moments, but the sex had evidently invigorated her as it had temporarily exhausted him. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath as she lifted herself off him and sat on the edge of the couch. "That just leaves one question."

"Mmm?" he asked, lightly caressing her back.

"What the hell do you think you need a

substitute

for?"

He laughed. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, summoning the energy to sit up. "I think that there's some champagne in the fridge in the galley -- if the crew haven't had it."

She frowned. "The

crew

?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," he said. "You don't think that I can sail this thing everywhere all on my own, do you? There's a couple of guys I employ... Do you want that champagne, by the way?"

"Yes please. So where are your crew right now?"

"Oh, they went ashore to look around the town and take care of some business. You can meet them later if you like." He padded, still naked, toward the stern end of the vessel. "Nice guys, when they aren't raiding the larder." He went through a door into a small galley, and she glimpsed him rummaging around. "Ah yeah, here we are. Now, glasses..."

She turned back to the port-side viewing window as he continued to open and close cupboards, and gazed out at the undersea world. She heard the pop of a cork, and a few moments later, he was standing beside her again, handing her a glass. She took it with a nod.

"Hey," she said, "is that a wreck over there?"

He looked at her. "You're sharp," he said. "Yeah, I think it is." He looked back out of the window himself. "Not many people would spot it under all that silt and weed, though. We found it just yesterday. That's one reason I came to this spot, actually."

"Oh," she said, suddenly sounding excited, "it isn't the

Santa Gianna,

is it?"

"Wow," he said, "where did you hear about the

Gianna

?"

"I told you, I do the reading. I was coming to this part of the world, so I looked at some books about it."

"Not just regular tourist guides, then. It's not in those yet."

"No. I mean, people only realised that it might be round here after that historian did some digging in the Venice archives last year... Oh." She suddenly stopped and looked at him. "Are you some kind of treasure hunter or something?"

He shook his head with a smile. "Not really. You couldn't find enough treasure with this thing to pay for what it cost me. But I need some excuse to myself for buying it..."

"Aside from as a librarian trap?"

"Quite. Anyway, I like to think of myself as an amateur archaeologist."

"Very sweet," she said, not sounding at all sarcastic. She moved a half-pace closer to the window, and extended her left hand to touch it while finishing her champagne. "Wow. So you've found the

Gianna

."

"I

think

so," he said. "But it'll need to be confirmed. It might just be some old trader went down here a lot more recently, or something." He was sitting down on the couch again by now, and she joined him. They both sipped their champagne.

"So you brought me here to show off your discovery?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I guess. It's exciting for me, but I didn't realise that you might be interested."

"So you need a barnacled old wreck to get you turned on?"

"It helps," he said, and she laughed. They drank more champagne.

He moved his glass toward her shoulder, then tilted it to send a trickle of champagne rolling down her breast. Then he leaned over and licked it off. She looked down at him with a smile. "Men," she muttered.

He put his glass down on the deck, leaned over, and kissed her on the mouth while lightly caressing her breast with one hand. When he leaned back from that, she moved a hand to his thigh, and caressed it gently. As her hand approached his stomach, it brushed something else. "Ah," she said, glancing down to his resurgent erection, "definitely no substitutes required."

"Glad you like it," he said. She nodded, and then suddenly broke away from him, jumped to her feet, and rummaged in her heaped clothes, emerging with another condom packet. "Just in case you need it again in the near future," she said, dropping it on the couch.

"I might," he said.

But she didn't sit down again. Instead, she began to stroll around the cabin, looking out of both windows and glancing into the control section in the bow. Eventually, she returned to the port window, and carefully placed both hands flat against it as she looked out.

"How strong are these?" she asked.

"The windows? Plenty strong enough, if you're worried. I can go a lot deeper than this, easily."

"And you weren't worried when I leaned on them."

"Not at all. Remember, they're currently keeping a lot of pressure

out.

Your weight pressing on them from the inside just balances that, if anything."

"That's good," she said, putting both hands on the window. "It opens up some possibilities." She leaned forward and moved her feet apart and slightly back, then glanced back at him. "See what I mean?"

What he saw was her naked backside and slightly open pussy, flagrantly on display. He got to his feet, bringing the condom with him, and fondled her hips with both hands for a moment. Then he let go, and she glanced back after a moment to see him just starting to roll the condom onto his erection.

"C'mon, captain," she crooned, "torpedo me..."

She turned back to look out the window. He said nothing, but after a moment, she felt him touch her left hip with one hand, and then the entrance to her cunt with the tip of his cock. A moment later, he slid fully into her. She sighed happily as he began thrusting, slowly and gently at first. She wriggled a little, making wordless happy noises as she gazed out at the underwater scene. He switched rhythm slightly, testing what worked for both of them.

"Oh," she said suddenly.

"What is it... Oh, shit," he said looking over her back and shoulder to follow her gaze through the window. A pair of divers in scuba gear had just swum into view, and were turning toward the window.

"

Don't you dare stop what you're doing,

" she commanded, glancing back at him as he paused his thrusts.