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At 30 years old, Ana Lopez was still a virgin. It wasn’t as if she wanted to be – she often dreamed up stores of sexual encounters in her head. Sometimes the stories were innocent and romantic. Other times very taboo. She’d blush with eagerness and excitement as she’d pleasure herself to imagined scenes of forbidden love – fucking her next door neighbor’s large cock as his wife walks through the door, for example. Or seducing her gorgeous step-mom into going down on her. She watched a healthy amount of porn and kept a collection of toys. But she had never been involved with anyone, romantically, or, for all intents and purpose, physically.

She made out once in high school, with a boy she had a crush on. It was a moment that turned out to be devastatingly embarrassing for her. She was worth a certain number of points in a game among a certain clique and made into a laughing stock. Hopelessly anxious in social situations, she chose to deal with these sorts of violations against her by withdrawing into a cloistered life, finding comfort in books and academics. She was highly precocious, finishing a double Math and Electrical Engineering undergraduate degree from a top university at 18, and receiving her PhD at 23.

In academics and in her career, she was highly successful. In romance, not so much. But she had tried. She had been on a few dates, but these experiences had often ranged from cringey to frightening. And each time, she withdrew back into her small, quiet, secure life. She once frequently wondered whether she would ever be involved romantically. The anxiety would hit hardest as each of her friends in turn would fall in love and into a steady relationship and marriage. She once desired to marry and have children. But these thoughts have all but subsided, existing only as shades of a past hopefulness. She was wickedly good at her work, so she used it as a conduit for an adventurous life to substitute a romantic one. This is how she found herself, one day, on an island in the South Pacific.

*****

The rusted ceiling fan in the humid hotel beach bar creaked in pathetic circles, unable to do its job of circulating the stifling air. Ana sat at the bar with her hand on a frigid margarita, enjoying the chill of the condensation on the glass while, in her other hand, she held open a yellowed book she had bought at the second-hand book shop just around the corner. Sweat had dampened her white linen blouse.

It wasn’t her first time on the tiny island. Ana visited frequently as a consultant for a solar energy project in the south pacific island chain funded by an eccentric and reclusive billionaire. She never met the guy, but she had been told that he had taken an intense liking to her and her research. The money was good, the job interesting, and the lifestyle exhilarating, so, this is what she did.

A couple days ago, she finished work on one of the projects. The billionaire promised a grand reception for all the people that were responsible for the project’s success – a rare chance for a meet and greet. Ana never appreciated pomp and circumstance and the schmoozing that usually went along with it. She would much rather just have done with it and move on to the next problem that needed solving. But it was insisted that she show up.

Ana looked at her watch. 4.00 PM. The time she was supposed to meet her contact at the bar. she scanned the semi-lively place. Mostly tourists, with a smattering of locals. 4.00 PM was the time she was instructed to wait for a woman named Patricia. She was told to just dress casually, so that’s exactly what she did – loose cotton top, pair of jeans and sandals. No makeup, no lipstick. Dark, oily hair worn in a ponytail. Her normal mode of being.

The bartender walked across the bar, wiping a pilsner glass with a towel. He gave Ana a grin with shining white teeth and a wink. She smiled back meekly, bashfully bringing the book up to hide her face and sinking a little into her stool. Peeking out from just above the top of the book, she watched his dark biceps and wrist muscles ripple as he casually cleaned the glass in his hand. A large vein traveled the length of his glistening, sweaty arm to his wrist. Ana bit her lip as she wove a fantasy in her head about taking the muscle-bound bartender to her room to take his cock from behind.

Her dreamy state was violently interrupted by a hand slapping the teak countertop loudly next to her. “Oh Danny Boy,” a sang in a sonorous and boisterous female voice. A woman, with long wind-swept, burnt red hair, perhaps in her mid-to-late 30’s, or early 40’s, popped onto the stool next to Ana. Her fair skin was slightly bronzed, and slightly burnt.

The bartender swung around and grinned widely at the woman. “Patricia!” the man exclaimed in a cheerful accent. “Long time no see!”

Patricia nodded and replied, “It’s been too long. But you know how it is. I can’t stand being off the water for too long. I’ll get sick! How are you, Danny?”

The bartender, Danny, izmit escort chuckled heartily, replying, “I know you too well, Patricia. Things are going good. Business is slow, but slow is good. Island time, you know.”

“Well, I’ll help keep you busy. How about a lager?” asked Patricia.

Ana observed quietly at the scene, recognizing that this was obviously the same Patricia she was instructed to meet. In a squeak, she began to say, “Hi there, I’m -“

Ignoring her, Patricia interrupted to continue conversing with Danny, “hey, I got to take someone back to the other island today, but when I get back, how about I give you another personal tour of my boat.” Patricia winked, taking a gulp out of the cold glass Danny put in her hands. He cleared his throat and glanced awkwardly at Ana. Ana huffed in flustered indignation at the innuendo. Patricia swung around on the barstool to come face to face with her and leaned coolly against the bar counter. “Hi there, sweet pea” Patricia greeted, unaware of any social faux pas she might have just committed.

“Hi there,” Ana squeaked. She put the book down on the counter and shot her hand out, and in an overly compensating professional tone, declared, “I’m Ana. I’m the one you’re taking to the reception.” Patricia jumped back at the aggressive tone.

With a curious expression drawn on her face, Patricia studied Ana’s hand, which hung suspended inches from her chest. She clasped it in her own hand and, with a naughty grin on her face, brought it her face to kiss it. “Why, the pleasure is mine, Madam,” Patricia said in a mock posh British accent.

“Patricia, behave yourself with my customers,” Danny warned, shaking his head. To Ana, he said, “Don’t let this one bother you, yeah? She’s been out in the sun a little too long, but she’s harmless.”

Patricia chuckled and stuck her hands up in surrender. “Ok, ok, I’ll be nice,” she submitted. She smiled at Ana, with an inviting warmth in her light hazel eyes. Ana relaxed. They shook hands. Patricia had a very attractive face with sharp, symmetrical features. She had thin eyebrows, a dainty nose, and brown freckles on her cheeks. Her eyes glimmered with sharp wit and a playful energy.

“Nice to meet you, Ana. I’ll be your tour guide,” she said.

“Great, let’s go. I’m ready,” Ana said eagerly.

“Woah, hold your horses, we got to wait for the tide.” She held up her watch. “…and it looks like we have about an hour to burn,” She noted, taking a swig of her lager.

Flustered, Ana replied, “Ok… but it’s already a quarter past four, and I guess… I mean… um, tide? Wait, why are we waiting for a tide?”

“Well, sweet pea, right about now the tide’s coming in the channel at a good clip. 3 knots or so. With the crosswinds like it is, it’s better if we wait for it to slacken a little bit,” Patricia explained.

“I was not made aware that we are going to be sailing. How long will this take?”

“Oh, I’d say we’d arrive to the other island tomorrow evening, as long as the wind holds up,” Patricia responded, nonchalantly.

“Tomorrow evening?” Ana exclaimed in disbelief, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, there must be a mistake, I don’t think I -, well my belongings are up in my hotel room and I -“

Patricia interrupted, “are you in a rush there, sweet pea? Relax, I’m in charge of your itinerary. It’ll all go according to plan. We know the work can be stressful. I’m here to help make it fun. Think of it as a perk. You like fun, don’t you?”

Ana was taken aback, but responded, “well, it’s quite unorthodox, but I suppose.”

Patricia slapped Ana’s knee and hollered, “Yes! That’s what I like to hear. Celebration is in order. Donny, shots of your finest tequila. For the three of us!”

Ana flinched and smiled uncomfortably, scratching her neck. She coughed the tequila down and felt a warm buzz come over her. Not before long, the room turned golden, and then a dark glowing orange as the sun sank into the calm horizon. This was certainly unorthodox, but Ana quickly accepted it as another adventure. And Patricia seemed pleasant enough.

By the time Ana and Patricia walked out onto the small pier at the end of the town, the sun had completely disappeared, and the sky had turned a deep purple. The fresh breeze cooled Ana’s warm face and freshened her blouse. Patricia walked out in front, silhouetted against the stars in the sky and the glint of the dull pier lights off the gently lapping water. She appeared tall and elegant. Her long hair wafted in the tropical breeze. Her hips swayed seductively like an amazon walking proudly among the dancing leaves of the palm trees. She wore a short blouse, revealing the skin at the top of her hips. Khaki shorts accentuated her apple bottom. Ana eyed her body with envy and a little sexual desire. Patricia’s majestic, statuesque shape put butterflies in her stomach.

Before long, they arrived at a sleek, 50-foot sailboat at the end of the pier. The boat creaked cheerily as it rubbed against izmit kendi evi olan escort the fenders with the gentle sway of the ocean and the wind. “That’s my baby. She’s old, but she’s good pedigree. Won a lot of races,” Patricia said proudly, as if describing a thoroughbred racehorse. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

In short order, Patricia had Ana’s bags stowed away and had expertly and single-handedly shoved the boat off from the pier. The diesel engine gurgled as Patricia steered the boat lazily through the red and green buoy lights that lined the edges of the channel. Ana watched, impressed with Patricia’s command of the boat.

When the boat reached the end of the channel, Patricia asked Ana to hoist the main and jib sails and instructed her patiently step-by-step. The sails fluttered in the wind as Ana hoisted them up, the loud flapping noise and the whipping of the sheets frightened her. Patricia shouted, “Keep cranking! You’re almost there!” Ana did so, wincing, until the flapping subsided, and the main sail tautened in the wind. The boat lurched forward in the water as Ana cheered gleefully at her success. With enough headway, Patricia turned the engine off, leaving only the sound of the gentle whooshing and babbling of the water against the hull as the boat plied out towards the purple horizon.

The experience thrilled Ana. She had never been on a sailboat, let alone one in the middle of the pacific. Patricia, with her adventurous lifestyle, and her matching daring and carefree personality, thrilled Ana.

“You can head to the front of the boat if you want, Ana,” Patricia said. “Just keep your harness connected to the lifeline.” Ana nodded, and did exactly that, walking out to the bow. She looked back and grinned gleefully at Patricia. “This is so amazing!” Ana shouted back.

Patricia, at the helm, smiled and gave a lazy salute. “I told you, you’d have fun, didn’t I?”

That night, they had a simple dinner together in main cabin. Patricia lit candles and dimmed the cabin lights while they ate and drank wine. Afterwards, they enjoyed lounging on the cushioned seats that wrapped the cockpit. Patricia opened a bottle of sweet sherry – her favorite wine, she indicated. The notion that this was a business trip disappeared from Ana’s mind as quickly as the lights from the island behind them.

“This is what its all about for me, Ana. Doesn’t get any better,” said Patricia. She held her half-empty sherry glass carelessly in a limp hand.

Ana let out a dreamy sigh. “You’re so lucky,” she said. “How did you end up doing this?”

“I’m not quite sure to be honest. I am lucky, though. I’m fully aware of that. Its incredible what life has given me.”

“Don’t you think you’d get sick of it?” Ana asked.

Patricia shook her head. “Nah, I’m enamored by it. Its more than just a happy drunk feeling for me, you know. I feel it in my bone. This is where I’m meant to be.” Patricia waved out at the starry expanse, spilling some of her sherry on the deck.

Patricia’s blouse top fell off her shoulders, revealing the naked skin of a bra-less breast. Catching Ana gazing, she smiled slyly, letting the blouse fall even farther. The pale moon beams illuminated her body in an angelic glow. Ana, unaware that she noticed, kept her eyes fixed on Patricia’s chest as she sipped her sherry.

“Hey sweet pea, I’m up here,” Patricia taunted, laughing. Ana blushed red. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I just… I… well, I mean your shirt is coming off,” she whimpered. Patricia grinned at this reaction twirling her hair playfully.

“It tends to do that out here,” Patricia answered. “Not much use for a shirt when I’m on the ocean all by myself.” Gazing at Ana blithely, Patricia stated, “you know, it just might come off right now.” As she said this, Ana felt a rush of familiar anxiety. Hyperventilating, Ana stood up, saying, “I think I better head to my cabin now. I… I… I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she scurried down through the hatch. Patricia shouted down after her, “hey! leave your glass in the sink!”

Ana laid on a queen size bed in the aft cabin of boat with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. A pale blue glow shone through the cabin window behind her head, giving the room a tranquil quietness. The flirtatious moment that occurred just an hour or so ago ran through her head. What should she have done there? She certainly found Patricia attractive. And her breasts were, in fact, magnificent. Ana closed her eyes to picture them again. She imagined the blouse hanging low, revealing the curved line of Patricia’s soft breasts as they squished against the cushion. This fantasy Patricia stared longingly at Ana, with the moonlight glinting off her eyes, her nipples coming into view as the half-un-buttoned blouse slid down to her waist. Ana shifted her hips in bed and started to breath heavy with excitement.

“Why am I so awkward?” Ana whispered to herself, glumly.

Refocusing https://www.stpribor.com/escort/izmit-escort-bayan her attention again on the half-naked Patricia. Ana ran a hand down her flat abdomen and into her panty. She felt wet stickiness as she ran her middle finger down the slit of her vagina. Spreading her legs apart, she pressed the flat of her middle finger into her clitoris, rubbing it slowing in a back-and-forth motion as she pictured Patricia’s body. The real Patricia must still be at the helm, standing right above her, attentively guiding the boat to its destination. The thought of her nearby during this sexual act made her hotter. She imagined Patricia bursting through the cabin door, blouse still hanging off of the shoulders, her wavy red hair disheveled and moistened from the salt-soaked breeze, strands of it falling across her face, unbearable lust in her eyes. The fantasy Patricia would climb onto bed and push her face into Ana’s thighs to lick the top of her clitoris with the tip of her warm tongue. Ana stroked her clit faster and faster. She paused to wet her fingers with her tongue before going down again. Her pussy ached for sexual pleasure. She moaned, first under her breath, and then louder and louder with each stroke, panting, picturing Patricia’s face deep between her thighs, hair splayed across her abdomen. She thrust her hips into her hand and, in a rush of intense pleasure, came, picturing her hands clawing the back of Patricia’s head, pressing it into her come. When she finished, she brought her wet fingers up to her lips to taste it while catching her breath, wondering how Patricia might taste.

Once the satisfying aftereffects of her orgasm subsided, Ana felt the return of the familiar pangs of resentment for her lack of confidence and frightfulness in social situations. It pained her that she always managed to get in her own way whenever things had a chance to get hot.

Ana dreamt vividly that night, but when she awoke the next day to bright rays of sunlight blazing into the stuffy cabin, the dreams were forgotten. Feeling a mix of perspiration and humid stickiness in her hair and on her face and a dryness in her throat, she crawled out of bed to escape to the ocean breeze.

She discovered Patricia dozing in the morning sunlight against the aft bench of the cockpit, while the helm steered itself to maintain course. She had on aviator sunglasses and a straw sunhat pulled over her face.

“Good morning,” Ana said, trying to sound cheerful and careless of her abrupt exit last night. Patricia turned her head up slightly, pulling the brim of the hat up to peek and replied, “good mornin’, sweet pea. How’d ya sleep?”

“I slept well,” Ana replied. She sat down on the port side bench by the helm, silently. Patricia sat up and looked upon her, hard to say with the aviators on, but seemingly with friendly warmth, as had been her attitude so far.

“That’s great to hear. There’s nothing like sleeping on a boat. It must be the waves and the fresh air. I prepared some breakfast. Fresh orange juice, warm croissants, and fruit. Does that sound good to you?”

Ana nodded. Patricia jumped up and hopped into the galley, coming out a few seconds later with a silver platter with the food items, placing it on the small table next to Ana. “It’s a little light, so let me know if you want something else,” Patricia said.

“Thank you,” Ana said gratefully. As Ana ate, Patricia took her position by the helm, sitting with an arm hanging loosely on a knee in quiet meditation. Ana asked, “So you were up here all night?”

Patricia shook her head and explained, “I like to sleep down in the main cabin. Out this far, I’ll get up every couple hour to check the course and the radar for any contacts. Not a big deal.”

“I see…,” Ana replied. They sat quietly. Ana finished her orange juice, and relaxed, enjoying the feeling of the sun on her face and the sporadic cooling splashes of the waves on her skin.

“If you want to enjoy some sunbathing, feel free to go out onto the front of the boat. It’s perfect for laying out,” Patricia suggested.

Ana took her up on the suggestion and laid out on a beach towel out front. She took out her book and read for several hours. The sunlight shimmered white hot off the blue water. She watched in surprised delight as a pod of dolphins joined the boat, dancing off the bow, and a school of flying fish skipped away frantically towards the horizon, gliding for many seconds just above the water surface.

After some time, as the sun hung high in the cloud-filled sky, Patricia walked out to where Ana laid to point out to a wide dark spot on the horizon.

“Rain squall,” Patricia stated. “They usually move fast, but you see how this one doesn’t appear to move at all?” Ana nodded, observing the large black mass hanging low on the horizon with long grey streaks pouring into the ocean at an angle. Patricia explained, “that means we’re on a collision course. Hope you like getting wet!”

The squall looked ominous to Ana, so she asked, “is it dangerous? Shouldn’t we go around it?”

Patricia shrugged, and said, “nah, it’s nothing. Just a bit of rain and wind. I’ll just furl the jib and reef the mainsail in case it gets too windy. Just go ahead and put your vest back on.”

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