The Voyage

Janet looked herself in the mirror, and smiled, pleased with what she saw. The mother of three spirited teens, she was still a knockout. Her shapely legs curved upward, towards firm, round buttocks behind and in front, a trim, flat stomach with only the barest hint of curve. From a pretty navel, her gaze moved upward toward shapely, gently curved breasts. Not overly large, they were shapely enough to attract glances from the men at the office where she worked. More importantly to her, they were very sensitive, and easily aroused. Her tiny pink areolas gave way to wine-colored nipples that could stand erect at the slightest stimulation. Her slender neck supported a pretty face framed by shoulder-length dark brown, almost black hair. At 5' 8" the total package was tall and shapely, and she was proud of it. She again smiled at her reflection as she began to dress.

Today she and Bob were going sailing. Bob owned a 40 foot sailboat that he used for business meetings, weekend cruising, and with a crew that had been together for years, for racing. Racing had brought Bob and Janet together: nearly two months ago, with co-workers on a "girls night out," she had gone to the party at the Lakebridge Yacht Club the night before the Regatta. The band had been loud, the clubhouse dance floor had been stiflingly crowded, and air inside was rank and smoky. Worst of all, the sailors had been drunk, boisterous, and for the most part, horny and crude. She had escaped the crowded dance floor, and had gone walking along the pier, taking in the fresh air, and looking at the boats. She had always wanted to sail, but her first husband had never been interested and now, as a single mother, she only had enough to sustain her and her boys. Sailing was an expensive luxury, far beyond her means. So she walked up and down the rows of boats, gazing and dreaming. Then suddenly, a man's voice interrupted those dreams.

"I was beginning to think I was the only person on earth who wanted away from that noise," spoke a friendly voice from the shadows behind the rigging of a blue sloop. The speaker then stood up from his deckchair and stepped out from the shadows. He was tall, over six feet, slim and handsome. His blue polo shirt revealed a trim, muscular torso, and his khaki shorts revealed handsome legs. His sculpted face wore a relaxed smile that reached his blue eyes. Janet was instantly drawn to him.

"It is a bit much, isn't it?" she replied.

The stranger's grin deepened. "Welcome to the club," he answered. "I'm Bob, and this is the 'Bookworm.' Care to come aboard?"

And she had. For the next several hours the two had talked. Over two glasses of wine, and then three cups of coffee, oh how they had talked. She discovered he was a widower, whose young wife had died years ago in a automobile accident after only four years of marriage. Janet found herself telling him about her children, and about how she had thrown herself in her work after her husband, their father, had left her for his theretofor unknown mistress. "I need something new," was all he had said at the time, leaving her to wonder what was so wrong with her that he would destroy their family to be away from her. She also told Bob of her desire, someday, to sail.

They were both slightly startled when, in a moment of companion-

able silence, they discovered that the night had somehow slipped away. The party had ended, the crowds had dispersed, and Janet's friends (along with her ride) had apparently left without her. Moreover, it was only a couple of hours until the dawn. Each of them then realized that they had spent hours in each other's relaxing and pleasant company. That realization quickly turned to a mutual attraction; and awareness of each other instantly led to awkwardness, as each wondered what to say next.

"I should go," Janet said without conviction, as at the same moment Bob invited her to "Stay." She stared at him, wondering if he was propositioning her. He quickly blushed.

"I mean, stay up here on deck. It's only a little while until dawn. Sunrise over the lake is something to see." She blushed to think that she would have spent the night with this man, even if it had only been in pleasant conversation. She hesitated.

"Tell you what," Bob said, as much to hide the awkwardness as to keep her from abruptly leaving. "Watch sunrise with me, then let me treat you to breakfast. The club always does a nice spread for the Regatta. Then, I'll call you a cab." She had immediately jumped at the prospect, although in the end, the cab ride had been delayed. After breakfast, she had not wanted to leave, and he definitely had not wanted her to go.

Bob's crewmates began to arrive, he introduced her to each of them. More than one met her with arched eyebrow, wondering what sort of conquest their skipper had made the night before. Janet blushed as she read their obvious thoughts. Then she got out of the way as they made final preparations for the race.

Just before they shoved off, Bob stepped off the boat and moved close to her. He walked her to the cabstand in front of the club. He hesitated, then quietly told her, "I'd like very much to see you again."

Janet smiled shyly, and said, almost in a whisper, "Yes, please. Here's my number," as she handed him a scrap of paper. "And good luck." Then she smiled at him. She didn't move as he looked at her, and smiled a smile that went all the way to his eyes. Then he forced himself to open the cab door and watch her climb inside. He said a quiet "so long," then began to walk back toward the boat. She sat there and continued to watch as his crew cast Bookworm off from the dock, and turned down the river, into the stream of boats heading into the lake for the Regatta.

After that, they dated for about six weeks, and today, they would be spending the whole day together today. Her teens were staying the weekend with their father. As she finished dressing, she smiled yet again as she allowed herself to contemplate being with Bob. If today went well, then perhaps they would spend the night together. Janet hadn't yet been able to let herself do that, despite her attraction to the tall banker. A month ago, after their third date, Bob had made a polite, tempting overture, and Janet had clumsily rebuffed him. Bob was gracious and pleasant, but Janet was sure she'd never hear from him again. So she was relieved and gratified when he called the next day, as he had done after each of their previous dates, to arrange their next outing. And for the next month, each date thereafter had ended with the same friendly kiss on the cheek. But he had never again made another pass.

And now they were going sailing. There was no racing this weekend, and the weather forecast was for a clear day, with a storm front forecast to come through in the evening hours. Bob assured her that the storm wouldn't threaten them. They could be back long before it arrived.

Janet finished dressing, remembering Bob's advice. "It's warm on shore," he had said, "but on the lake, it can be quite a bit cooler, so bring a light jacket. The best approach is to dress in layers. An outer layer of long sleeves and long pants over something like a t-shirt and comfortable shorts. Bring your favorite sunscreen, and some type of lip balm. We might have swimming weather out on the lake, so if you want, bring a swimsuit," he had added.

So she looked at herself in comfortable but snug jeans, a long- sleeve button down shirt, over a polo shirt of her own, and khaki shorts. In her carry-on bag she packed a comfortable, muted tan one-piece swimsuit that she always liked. But at the last minute, she also packed her electric yellow bikini, the one with the deep plunging front snap bra and the even skimpier bottom. She always felt a bit slutty wearing it, but it did make her look so very good. And maybe, just maybe, today would be the day to try "a little bit slutty."

As Janet arrived at the dock, Bob was unwrapping the sail cover. She stood there and said "good morning," a bit awkwardly. He turned to her and smiled that smile -- oh, how she was becoming addicted to that smile!

He said "Hello to you too! Come on aboard." She did so, and he said "You can stow your things below, if you like. There's space in the locker behind the port side settee." And when she looked confused, he grinned. "Port side. That's the left. And before you come back up, help yourself to something cool from the fridge. That's just beside the galley stove, also on the left."

Janet went below and saw the spacious, well organized layout of the boat, and its gear. She also noticed the door to the master cabin aft was open. That was his bunk -- large, comfortable, and with fresh, crumpled sheets and a warm comforter. She blushed as in her mind's eye she briefly saw the two of them intimately intertwined on that bed. Then she trod firmly on her imagination, grabbed two cans of juice from the cooler, and climbed back up onto the deck. There, for the next hour, Bob had explained the boat, it's rigging and components, and how the boat worked.

Bob patiently answered her questions, and showed her the names of the various parts, ropes and equipment. He demonstrated how the winches helped grind up the lines, and he also described various maneuvers. Finally he said, "Okay, you've absorbed all you can from talking about it. The rest you just have to see and experience out on the water. Ready?"

She nodded, nervously. "Okay then," he smiled, "prepare to cast off. I'll get the stern lines." He then started the engine as she took the position he had pointed out earlier. "Cast off!" he commanded, and, as he had shown her, she took the dock lines off the cleats that held the boat in its slip, and set them on the dock. She helped him maneuver the boat out of the slip, and they slowly motored up the channel. She looked briefly at her car, disappearing in the distance, and then she turned and looked forward as he piloted the boat toward the lake. She wondered what this day would hold, but she was determined that she would not look back.

As soon as they reached open water, Bob throttled the motor down until the boat was just making headway, then he turned it into the wind and motioned for Janet to take the wheel. "I'm going forward to raise the sails," he said. "You just keep her pointed into the wind." And with every confidence in her, he headed to the mast, where he quickly untied the sails and hoisted them -- first the mainsail, then the big overlapping jib. The sails fluttered loudly in the wind as Bob hoisted them up the mast and forestay, drowning out the drone of the engine, as he adjusted the halyards, then tied them down.

"Now turn that way!" he yelled from the front of the boat, pointing left. As she turned the wheel, the boat hesitated, then responded as the rudder bit in the slowly flowing water. As she pointed Bookworm where Bob directed, he sheeted in the sails. The boat leaned over a little as the wind caught the sails, startling her. She grabbed the wheel with both hands and her eyes widened in momentary panic. She looked at Bob and saw that he was relaxed and enjoying it. That was enough to quickly calm her down enough to remember what he had told her earlier. The boat would lean over -- "heeling," he had called it. It was normal, he said, and all Janet needed to do was to stay on the windward side of the boat. "The high side," she remembered him saying. So, keeping her hands on the wheel, she stepped up to the right side of the boat that was leaning gently to the left. Bob grinned and nodded as he stepped around her and pulled a lever on the helm station. A moment later, the engine coughed and came to a stop. Bob then sat down beside her -- so very close to her -- but didn't touch the wheel, or her. As Bookworm accelerated on the wind, his grin grew as he looked at her and said, "You're sailing!"

And so she was. For a couple of moments she marveled in the sensations -- the wind on her face, the gentle undulations of the boat on the waves, the way it responded when she turned the wheel one way or the other. She closed her eyes a moment and smelled the fresh air, and the lake water. She felt the cool breeze and the warmth of the sun. She opened her eyes, and looked up at the sails, their tell-tales flying the way Bob had said they would. She savored the whole experience. She was sailing! Just as she had always wanted to do. Now that she was, it was even better than she had imagined.

Then she remembered that she was not alone. She sensed, rather than saw, Bob's presence next to her, watching her. She looked at him, and saw his pleasure as he looked at her. She smiled at him, a smile of gratitude, of joy, of genuine excitement and pleasure, and in a sudden flash of decision, an unspoken promise of other pleasures that they would share when the sailing was done. He smiled back, and she wondered how much he understood of the decision she had just made. Then, blushing, but still smiling, she turned her attention back to the boat.

Bob showed her how to sit on the transom as she kept the helm. He moved away from her and went forward to trim the sails. To her disappointment, he stayed there for a moment, then he turned to her. "Ready to try tacking?" he said loudly.

Tacking! Oh God, he had explained how that would happen, but what was it he had said? Bob seemed to understand so he gently talked her through it. "Pick a point off your right shoulder," he said. "That's where you're aiming for." She looked right, and saw a tower on the far shore, miles away. She nodded, still looking at the tower. "Okay!" he said. "You tell your crew you're about to tack by saying 'Ready about!'"

"Ready about," she said in a normal tone of voice.

"Louder!" he said, smiling. "Everyone has to hear you, even the guy at the bow!"

She imagined sailing with a full crew, so she repeated, much more loudly, "Ready about!"

Bob grinned, uncleated the jib sheet and nodded. "Ready!" he replied. Janet hesitated, so he went on encouragingly, "You say 'Helm's a-lee!' Loudly, because everyone on deck and below decks needs to know we're tacking! Then turn the wheel to the right!"

Janet took a breath, looked back over her shoulder for her tower again, and almost screamed "Helm's a-lee!" as she gingerly turned the wheel a little to the right.

"Turn harder!" Bob commanded. "Once we're into the wind, we only have our momentum to get us across!" So Janet turned harder, and Bookworm began to turn more quickly. When the wind was straight ahead, Bob released the left jib sheet, and quickly began pulling in on the other sheet. The mainsail fluttered in front of Janet as the boat continued to turn, and the boom at the bottom of the sail began to move from the left to the right, until the mainsheet snapped taut and the sail began to fill on its new tack. The boat heeled to the right. Janet started to straighten the wheel as she saw her tower come to the front of the boat, and then keep moving left. They were still turning! She began to panic as the boat continued to fall off the wind.

"What do I do?!" she screamed at Bob.

Bob smiled calmly and said "Turn the wheel the other way until you get your reference point where you want it." Janet turned the wheel left, and as the boat began to respond, her tower drifted from the left back until it was directly in front of her. She then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Relax," said Bob, as he came up and sat down beside her and briefly touched her shoulder. "You're doing great."

Bob put his hand on the wheel, and, looking up at the sails, said to her "My helm."

As he had taught her before the left, she responded "Your helm," and then took her hand off the wheel.

Bob adjusted Bookworm's course and said casually, "It's not like driving a car on a paved road. Steering this boat means throwing a plank --the rudder -- around in the water. It doesn't respond as quickly, and if we're not moving through the water, it won't respond at all." She looked at him as he went on. "You have a touch for it, though," he said encouragingly. "Keep at it and you could be a first-class helm right quick."

Janet smiled back. Then she took a breath and looked him in the eyes. "Thank you," she said, suddenly bringing her hand up to caress his cheek.

Bob caught his breath, and his heartbeat raced. She'd never touched him like that before. Still he tried to nonchalantly shrug his shoulders "I didn't do anything," he said.

Now Janet smiled at Bob, a smile full of promise, a smile that made Bob's knees weak and which made him very glad he was sitting down. "Oh yes you did," she said. Then, suddenly, she was leaning into him, and her other arm was now around his neck. She gently pulled him toward her. "You know you did," she whispered, then, for the first time in their relationship, she kissed him.

The kiss, like the expression on her face, was full of promise, of hope, of excitement, and Bob sensed that it was also full of barely restrained passion. He wrapped his free hand around her waist and returned her kiss, gently, but in such a way that he let her know of the ardor that had burned within him for almost two months.

Bob continued to kiss her until Bookworm demanded his attention. The boat had turned into the wind and come up from its heeled position. Its sails fluttered loudly, as if jealous that Janet had stolen Bob's attention. Bookworm was no longer moving forward. Bob and Janet broke the kiss, looked up at the sails, looked at each other, and both laughed out loud. It was a good laugh. They broke their embrace, but their hands held each other as he said, "This is what it means to be 'in irons.' I'll go forward and backwind the jib. When I do, turn the wheel to the right. As soon as the main fills, steady us up on our previous course."

"Okay," she said. But neither of them moved as their hands, seemingly with a mind of their own, refused to let go, and neither could take their eyes off the other. Above them, though, Bookworm's sails fluttered loudly, as if annoyed at the way her crew ignored her.

"Okay," he agreed, as slowly, very reluctantly, they parted, both to do their part to get their impatient boat back into sailing trim.

Thereafter, the rest of the morning was filled with laughter and more sailing. Under Bob's tutelage, Janet learned all about running a sailboat. As the morning cool gave way to the midday heat, Janet removed her long-sleeve shirt. She caught Bob admiring they way she filled her t-shirt, and though he was quick to glance away, she smiled at him reassuringly. She found herself liking the way he looked at her. And she made sure that he knew she approved.

Before they knew it, it was nearly noon, and they were both very hungry. Bob announced "lunchtime!" and before Janet had time to wonder what would happen, Bob took the helm and showed her how to "heave to". With the jib backed, the mainsail squared, and the helm locked down, the boat seemed to hold still, just off the wind, the forces of wind and wave balanced off the rig and the rudder. Then he went below, and a few minutes later came up, with lunch in hand. He had made sandwiches and canned soup; a simple lunch, but given the appetite she had worked up, Janet thought it was one of the tastiest meals she had eaten in a long while. And, she noted, Bob had changed into swim trunks, although he had left his polo shirt on. She liked him in those trunks, but found herself a bit disappointed that he still wore his shirt. But, she thought to herself with a private smile, she was pretty sure that she'd remove him from his shirt before their day was through. Yeah, and maybe even from his swim trunks, too.

After lunch, Bob mentioned that they could go swimming in the lake before they continued their voyage. When Janet agreed, he went forward to set the anchor, while she went below to change. She looked at both of her swimsuits, and decided that she was very glad she had brought the bikini. He's waited long enough, she thought to herself. And so have I, she realized, with a sudden burst of ardor.