Again we gathered our skirts and stepped lightly up the stairs to theintense gaze of the Officer of the deck and his cohorts, busy sailingthis ship on a speckled sea of white phosphorus wave caps, foamingbeneath the stars.A bellowed "look alive there" seemed to break my reverie and I glancedtoward it's source. There looking majestic in a dark uniform jacketand white duck trousers was the Purser, Mr. Harris. He stepped towardus and tipped his cocked hat, saying. "Evening Lady Allyson, Lisele. Afine night for a stroll above decks, I'm very glad you could come upduring my watch."To which we replied in unison as though rehearsed. "Good evening Mr.Harris." I tore my eyes from him and looked forward to the deck we hadjust vacated, noting the looks of the seamen stopped in their work. Iblushed and looked down.Lisele said to him, "This is M'ladies first trip upon the deck, Mr.Harris could we impose on you to show us around and make sure we don'ttake a misstep anywhere?" Oh that was very coy. Thank God those domed walls don't talk!As that concrete beneath us painfully turned our knee, hip and ankle bones against us, we shifted jackets and coats between us and that stone floor for a final oral pleasure. Final there, that was, as we'd finish our tryst on a softer venue. Those jackets bought us another five minutes, but it was the sweetest, most flowing five minutes I'd ever enjoyed. As the night stars revolved slowly over our heads, silence ever so deafening and we didn't say a word but for our moans of pleasure, the welcome tongue dancing over my vintage took away what was left of my resolve to hold back, and I forgot about star formations and constellations. We gave the scaled-down cosmos a show of passion, ecstacy, love and mutual pleasure as we completed out lovemaking with 69'ing one another. Over and again I flowed, couldn't stop, didn't stop, wouldn't quit and the more I gave myself to Pete, the more he took, sucking and tonguing expertly. I was groaning and moaning.
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