~Sari Shepard~
Elliot Gleason leaned on the gunwale of an unnamed tour boat as it approached a coral reef off Paradise Island in the Bahamas. He sat toward the bow in full sunlight as the boat chugged closer to the bright green water over the shallows. The forty-foot craft was carrying cruise ship passengers on a snorkeling adventure, but Elliot was having second thoughts as the tour guides set anchor. He had no fear of the water. Nor did he harbor undue trepidation of the creatures in it. He simply changed his mind about getting wet with so many new ideas filling his mind.
Life was new to him since Sabrina, his wife of almost thirty years, surprised him with a Dear John letter six months previous. Once the initial shock wore off, he realized the inherent freedom in being unattached. He didn't want to stay single forever, but had come to see his present condition as a brief respite from the responsibility of a relationship. He came and went as he pleased, without having to answer for his whereabouts. No one told him what to watch on television, or complained if he had a second glass of bourbon. Moreover, there were surprisingly ample dating opportunities for men in their mid-fifties. In fact, Elliot chose the particular cruise he went on because a singles cruise was the last thing he needed. He wanted adventure and experience, not days at sea keeping a date log.
He had snorkeled coral reefs before. What he hadn't done in a long time was lean back on a sunny day and watch people. He was an author by trade, and people provided fodder for his livelihood. Their herd-like mentalities and predictable mannerisms tendered new ideas for his re-stimulated creativity. He sat taking mental notes as they rolled their belongings in towels and piled their clothes.
"Okay shark bait," called the tour guide in an islander's accent. "No swim fins until you're on the rear platform."
Men, women, and children splashed into the water one by one. Some squealed while others laughed. One old man with a purple scar on his chest even complained that the water was cold. They swam off like a school of two-dozen fleshy fish—all but Elliot and one other passenger.
Ten feet across from him, a young woman of maybe twenty years with a petite, slender build had also remained aboard. Long black hair framed her full cheeks and pouty lips, highlighted by a dainty hooked nose. She took her deep blue eyes off her cell phone just long enough to drop her brow and shoot him an angry sneer.
"Is something wrong, sir?" asked Sergei, the captain, in a rich West Indies accent. "There's time to join the group."
"Nah," replied Elliot, lowering his sunglasses to peer at the lanky young woman in a scant bikini.
She rolled her eyes and huffed, shaking her head as she tapped her screen with her thumbs.
"But sir," the mocha-skinned captain persisted, "We don't offer refunds for—"
"I'm not asking for one."
"Sir, we ask all passengers to depart to deter theft."
"Don't bullshit me, Sergei. You stay on—" He stopped in mid-sentence, looking over to the youthful beauty. "Oh, I get it," he acknowledged as Sergei walked under the canopy to the helm amidships. "I threw a wet blanket on your plans."
"Bite me," she mumbled, pushing her long, full hair behind her shoulder.
"For the record, I didn't mean to. What's your name?"
"Fuck off," she snapped, standing up and bunching her towel.
"You should learn to roll with changes," quipped Elliot. He turned to watch the swimmers as they split into groups over the bright shallow water.
Under the canopy, Sergei sat on a bench wearing only loose shorts—his arms outstretched on the backrest. As Elliot turned back to watch the swimmers, a thin, petite shadow cast over him from behind. He looked to see the nubile beauty standing to his side. "You coming or not?" she asked. "We'll see who can roll with changes."
Elliot scrunched his cheek. "Ya' talked me into it," he wise-cracked. "But I need to know what to call you."
"Call me Piper," she huffed, walking off. "And no more questions."
"I can't help it," he replied, staring at her tantalizing wiggle as he scurried to catch up. "I'm a people person. So, how old are you, Piper?"
"Just old enough," she griped, pointing to Sergei's left. "Sit."
As Elliot plopped down, she continued, "Let's be clear. No hair pulling, no derogatory comments, and most of all, no anal. Got it?"
"I'm good," chimed Elliot. "But Sergei looks a little confused. Derogatory comments are when you—"
"I wouldn't think of it," interrupted Sergei, thrusting off his shorts to reveal his sizeable prowess. "Elliot and I want you comfortable. Don't we, Elliot?"
Elliot nodded as he surveyed the formidable phallus protruding from Sergei's lap.
"Good," sassed Piper, lifting her elbows as she unsnapped her bikini top.
Elliot gulped as she dropped it at his feet and stood before him. Her breasts were nominal in size at best, but their perky firmness enhanced the youthful appeal of her fit torso. Her blue gaze shifted briefly to the crowd in the water, then honed in on his captive gape as she hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband of her bottoms and slid out of them. As thin as she was, her hips had a delightful feminine camber. A well-trimmed strip of curly brown sat above the cleft of her thighs—an oasis of inviting scruff below the soft, firm skin of her tight tummy.
A rush of warmth rushed to Elliot's loins as he took in the sight. His heart pounded in his chest as he tugged off his shorts and kicked them aside. Her pouty lips almost broke a smile as she dropped to her knees between the men, grasping an engorged shaft in each hand. Elliot took in a deep breath as her lanky fingers wrapped the base of his aching pole. Stroking his length, she leaned away and plunged over Sergei's lap to a contented groan.
Elliot peered on as her lips traveled over the brown skin of Sergei's ardent staff. She hummed as it bulged beneath her right cheek. Opening her mouth, she licked down the length and teased his balls with her tongue, then stroked as she sucked his nuts into her mouth one at a time. With a flick of the tongue beneath his knob, she smiled and turned to Elliot.
Her eyes no longer stared with the dull gaze of self-absorbed youth. They sparkled with blowtorch brilliance as she leaned over his lap. The ends of her hair tickled his pelvis as her spry nipples poked his right thigh. He inhaled as she tightened her grip on his beating beam and touched her tongue to the underside of his bulb. Shooting a final piercing glint into his gape, she lowered her chin and dropped the moist warmth of her mouth over his girth. Staring at the wash of black hair waving over his lap, Elliot let out a resounding moan of approval.
Sergei slid onto his knees and pressed his rigid rod into place. Piper squealed as he rocked his hips forward, but an easy six inches remained between her buttocks and his bronze pelvis. She bobbed faster over Elliot's offering as Sergei retreated and shimmed his hips, then mounted a burying charge.
