Below Deck Ch. 05

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Author’s Note: Back from a hiatus, I will be resuming this story. Thank you to those that have been around since the beginning, and I look forward to your continued feedback.

I run to the galley, already fifteen minutes behind.

I didn’t mean to sleep in; It’s just that I had slept so soundly that I didn’t hear my alarm for a solid ten minutes. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so refreshed.

Yeah, because you just had sex, I tell myself sarcastically.

But it was true. I felt a new kind of relaxed as I got ready this morning – a feeling I hadn’t felt in ages. I realized how much I had missed it; not only the physical release but the connection with another person.

As I enter the galley, the peacefulness drains from my body as I see Kathryn’s breakfast waiting for me on the counter. A new wave of anxiety washes over me. But why?

I like Kathryn, I remind myself.

But there’s something about her that’s just so alluring – Her wit? Her intelligence? The fact that I feel so comfortable around her? Or could it simply be the effect that her expert mouth has on my body?

Regardless, why couldn’t I go up there – business as usual?

Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to assess what is going on with my hesitations, as Kathryn’s breakfast sits cooling in front of me.

“Hey James? I need to help Quinn take inventory of the stemware this morning. It’s a huge job, and I don’t have a minute to spare. Could you please take Captain’s breakfast up to her for me? Just this once. It would be a huge favor,” I plead.

He looks at me, annoyed, but then his face relaxes.

“I ‘reckon I could do that for you. Just this once,” he mocks me lightheartedly.

“You know you’re my favorite chef,” I throw out casually as I make my way of the galley.

Thank god. I still didn’t fully understand why, but I just didn’t feel prepared to see Kathryn right now.

I summon Quinn on the radio, and we get started with the stemware. I had only been partially lying to James – it was a huge job, and I was glad to have the distraction.


Three hours later and one hundred and fifty pieces of glassware categorized, I finally take a break. Just as Quinn and I are plopping down on the couch in the main salon, I hear my name on the radio.

“Lucca, Lucca, Captain. Please come to the Bridge whenever you have a spare moment.”

Enter: A newly formed lump in my throat. I suppose I was kidding myself if I thought I could avoid confronting the source of this apprehension forever.

I try to shrug casually at Quinn as I leave the room and head up to the Bridge, hoping she doesn’t pick up on my uncharacteristic jitteriness.

I knock, and enter after receiving a “Come in.”

I stroll over to the table and pull out a chair, turning it to face Kathryn already seating in another. I look at her questioningly, as if this were just any other day before yesterday. As if her face wasn’t just buried in my nether regions mere hours before.

Expecting her warm smile, I don’t receive one. Her face is placid, but otherwise unreadable.

“Why didn’t you bring up my breakfast this morning?” For the first time, I am positive I hear uncertainty in her voice.

“Oh, I – Quinn and I – we had to take inventory on stemware, and I was already running behind, so I just asked James to run it up to you.”

Partially true.

Kathryn is quiet for a minute as she seems to process my response.

“I see.”

That phrase. I had no idea how two words could say so little while conveying so much.

Another moment of silence, now studying me intently.

“…Because I thought that perhaps you were avoiding me.”

Damn, was she good.

“Not at all,” I attempt to respond coolly, making that nonchalant face that everyone does when someone has just called them out on something they’re pretending to be oblivious about.

I had figured that my response would put her mind at ease, but it appears to do the opposite. Her face is awash with concern now, and it makes me apprehensive.

“I want you to know, Lucca, that I would never do anything that you didn’t feel comfortable with or want me to do.” Her voice is barely audible from where I’m sitting. “Ever.”

It’s only now that it dawns on me: Kathryn thinks that I regret last night. Perhaps, even that I was offended? Or – god forbid – that she forced me into it?

My chest tightens at the thought, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I silently order myself to say something reassuring without sounding like a gushing fool.

“Captain Kathryn, no. That’s not it. I just… I just didn’t know if you wanted me to bring up your breakfast.”

“And why wouldn’t I want you to?”

I don’t have an answer.

“Because I wouldn’t want to see you?” She pauses. “After…”

And now it hits me like a ton of bricks. The anxiety I was feeling about seeing Kathryn had nothing to do with me and everything whatsapp escort to do with her; I think somewhere in the recesses of my mind I had thought that she wouldn’t want to see me again. Not alone, anyway. A ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,’ of sorts.

“Maybe not,” is all I can respond.

The worry now leaves her face and both the smile and dimple return. “Listen…”

The moment is interrupted by a series of loud beeps and we’re both startled for a second.

Kathryn jumps up out of her seat and walks over to the control panel, pulling a few knobs and flipping a switch before turning back around, facing me.

“Come here,” she says after a minute has passed, motionless.

I hesitate for a moment before getting out of my chair. When I’m in front of her, she gently takes my waist and pulls me into her.

“Just so you’re aware. I did want to see you. And while James may be a good-looking chap, he’s no replacement for my little Chief Stew, suffice it to say.”

I feel myself melt at the cooing of her words.

Kathryn leans down and kisses me, hard. I respond by parting my lips and allowing her access to my mouth. The simultaneous tenderness and passion of her kiss sends tingles throughout my body and, within seconds, straight to my pussy.

After a few moments, I feel her undo the top button on my slacks and slip her hand beneath my underwear. Her fingers graze my already swollen lips as she pulls her face back and watches me, and I moan at her touch.

She runs her middle finger up the length of my slit before pulling it back out, holding it up between us. It glistens in the early morning light.

“I absolutely love how wet you get for me,” she says in a low voice.

Her comment makes me catch my breath as my arousal heightens even further.

“Taste it.”

Her request catches me off guard. I’d never tasted myself before, except maybe during a kiss following my partner having just gone down on me.

“Will you?” She rephrases.

I now find myself completely turned on by the idea – or was it just that she wanted me to that turned me on? I lower my mouth around her finger, cleaning it off entirely.

“That’s my girl.” The praise makes my body buzz.

She slips her hand back into my pants and continues lightly caressing my sex.

It’s only another moment before the teasing becomes too much, yet at the same time not enough. I’m putty in her arms as I look up at her helplessly.

“Please, Captain,” I whimper.

Her eyebrow raises at this, her breathing quickening. “Please what, Lucca?”

I can’t focus on anything but her finger, moving slowly up and down, but never close enough to where I need it to be.

“Ask for what you want.”

“Go inside. Please go inside.”

I’m rewarded with a delicious smile as two fingers slip into me. The strokes are slow but hard, and at this very moment I couldn’t have had it any other way.

I’m almost pressing my full weight against her now as she holds me up with her other arm.

At this point, both of our breathing is uneven as the slickness of my juices are more than audible with each pump.

I near the edge of climax and as my orgasm overtakes me, I bury my face in her shoulder so that my cries are muffled while my body shakes violently.

Once the last waves have subsided, she removes her hand from my pants and embraces me completely again.

Giving me a tender peck on the lips, she says, “Come to my cabin tonight at midnight. Make sure no one is in the hall, and don’t knock.”

She pulls a strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail behind my ear as she adds, “It’s time to get back to work now, my little Chief.”

“Yes, Captain,” I obey, knowing that she revels in hearing her own title. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I pull out of her arms and leave her there, not looking back.

As I make the long trek to the master guest cabin to check on its progress, I start to feel uneasy.

This time, however, it’s for an entirely different reason than before: Kathryn has yet to let me reciprocate.

While having my body be the center of attention for a time – even being on the receiving end of earth-shattering orgasms like I have been – has never been a source of complaint for me, it was beginning to bother me that Kathryn hasn’t seemed interested in the same.

I’ve always prided myself on being the type of lesbian that’s enjoyed giving as much as receiving, and it was really starting to concern me that she might think I didn’t lust after her body just as much as she appeared to desire mine. It’s all I could think about, actually – softly running my tongue around her swollen clit as she came, refusing to stop my assault until she couldn’t possibly take any more – and yet, why hasn’t she been open to me making an advance? Every time I tried or had barely caught my breath, Kathryn was already hurrying me away. I didn’t understand it.

This istanbul escort bayan wasn’t even about unbridled attraction. Lust. Passion. It was about the fact that I so desperately wanted to make her feel the way that she has been making me feel – an indescribable feeling, really.

I’m yearning to witness the ecstasy on her face as she throws her head back, hair flowing all around her. Craving to hear her own brand of involuntary sounds escape those buttery-soft lips. Hungering to taste her juices of arousal as they flow into my waiting mouth.

I need to, like I need air. It’s not an option at this point.


“And what the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?” James screams, waving his white chef’s coat around with its newfound burn mark on the front.

“I’m – I’m so sorry,” Willa sobs as she attempts to grab it from his flailing arm. “I can fix it.”

“Like fuck you can!” his anger only escalating.

I hear the commotion from down the hall as I run into the kitchen.

“What’s going on here? What’s the problem?! The people two yachts down from us can hear you screeching, James!”

“She ruined my coat. That one there,” he answers back, pointing accusingly at Willa.

I take the chef’s coat from James’ outstretched hand and observe the dark brown shape of an iron on the front.

“Nice work,” I chuckle softly. “Can you make me one?” I half-joke.

“She’s useless. She needs to go immediately,” James demands angrily.

“Oh come, now. We all make mistakes. Wasn’t it only last charter that you couldn’t get the soufflé to rise, James? Let’s everyone calm down. Accidents happen.”

“Yeah, well, we’re on charter tomorrow morning and I’m now without a chef’s coat. What am I supposed to wear, hey?”

I flash a reassuring smile as I tell him that I’ll be calling the nearest town straight away and have a new one sent over on rush delivery.

James grumbles as he slinks away, and I wrap my arm around Willa’s shoulders. “Chefs have such short tempers, don’t they? Just something we Stews have to learn to live with.”

She wipes her eyes as we head to the main salon to put in the call to town and to finish spot-checking the main salon.

As we’re finishing, I hear the loud hiss of the hose above us being wound up on the bow and know that the Deck Crew must be just finishing up their day as well.

We’re only a few charters in and I’m already dreading going back on charter tomorrow. For the first time in my yachting career, I’d rather be spending my time doing something else – spending time with Kathryn.

I allow my thoughts to go on a tangent as I do a final walk-through of the yacht, and I find myself longing for uninterrupted periods where we can really get to know each other. Where I can know her body. Her past. Her fears. Know her hopes, as cliché as it sounds. I simply can’t ignore this undeniable attraction and, dare I say it – chemistry – that seems to be between us, and I’m craving to explore it on every level. But does she feel the same way? What if this was just a yacht fling? I consider myself as down for a roll in the hay as the next lesbian, but this… wasn’t that. At least, not for me. I didn’t want it to be. Was that all it was to her? Just a bit of ‘knocking boots’? A bit of ‘how’s yer father?’ so to speak?

I really have no way of knowing. But perhaps it explains why Kathryn hasn’t allowed me to touch her. Not in the way that I’ve wanted to, anyway. Could she just be ‘getting her rocks off?’ in her few spare moments here and there? What if she’s cheating on someone back on land? She knows that I’m not with anyone, but what do I really know about her? Does it even matter?

I shake my head in an effort to dispel the intrusive thoughts. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. Just go with it, Lucca.

I head into the galley and grab a piping hot slice of pizza that James had prepared for us for dinner and continue on to my cabin. I glance at my cell phone for the time – 7:23. Only four and a half hours until I’m due at Kathryn’s cabin.

Butterflies at that thought.

But wait. This time, it won’t be just a rendezvous in the Bridge. She’s actually inviting me into her cabin. And her cabin has a bed. We’ll almost be like a normal couple. Does that mean that Kathryn wants this to progress beyond a brief fuck in the Wheelhouse?

You’re doing it again.

I’ll just have to see how everything unfolds, I guess. That’s the spirit.

I reach my cabin and grab my iPad as I get settled on my bed. I quickly throw on Breaking Bad to distract me from myself. I attempt to push aside the mix of emotions trying to bubble up to the surface, competing for space – those of anticipation and poignancy; anticipation because I couldn’t wait to see Kathryn, and poignancy because I know that if she doesn’t want the same things, it’ll crush me in a way that I hadn’t experienced before.


12:04. özbek escort Perfect. Can’t appear too eager.

I had been sitting on the side of my bed for the past thirty minutes, freshly showered, debating whether I had made the right choice in underwear – too plain and it looked like I couldn’t be bothered; too sexy and it gave the impression that I had regular trysts in my fellow crew members’ cabins. I ended up settling on a simple cotton pair with a lovely bit of lacy edging.

An AC/DC t-shirt and pair of Lululemon track shorts completed my look – what look I was going for exactly, I couldn’t be sure.

I silently make my way down the hall and stop in front of the last door, situated away from the other cabins. I let out a quiet breath and slowly open the heavy wooden door.

The lighting is dim, with just a simple side table lamp lit on one nightstand. As my eyes adjust, I see Kathryn sitting up in bed holding what looks to be a novel.

Not what I expected. Or was it?

I stand in the threshold awkwardly, unsure of whether I should approach the bed.

She leisurely closes the book and places it down on the table.

I can’t read Kathryn’s face from here, but before I have to wonder for too long, her tall figure climbs out of bed and advances towards me.

It’s only now that she’s a few feet away am I able to make out the black silk negligée adorning her tall frame, coming to just above the knee. Her long dark locks rest in waves around her shoulders. I’m equal parts mesmerized and shocked to see her in such risqué attire, having previously only seen her wearing polished outfits that leaned on the conservative side. I can’t find any words.

Kathryn smiles down at me as she watches me take in her body on display.

“You look incredible,” is all I manage to whisper.

My comment seems to fall on deaf ears as we embrace, and I feel her push my hair out of the way while we stand there. The tender gesture further makes my mind race.

“I thought perhaps you had changed your mind,” she coos as she lightly strokes my hair.

The soft light of the room illuminating Kathryn combined with the obvious vulnerability in her choice of nightwear has rendered me speechless again and I just shake my head.

Regaining my composure, I ignore the suddenly insuperable urge to yank the flimsy negligée off her body. Instead, I take her hand and lead her to the bed.

As I gently push her onto the covers, I climb on top and straddle her. With a hand on either side of her head, I lean down and kiss her delicately along her jawline and neck. Kathryn remains still for a few moments, as if unsure of how to react. Just when I think my boldness may have crossed the line, I feel her hands wrap around the back of my head as she pulls my lips onto hers.

We kiss sweetly for a bit as the kiss builds into a ferocity that neither one of us can get enough of. Without warning, Kathryn flips me over onto my back and we swap positions.

She lifts my t-shirt upwards and over my head, discarding it onto the floor.

My now exposed nipples spring to life as she lowers her head and swirls her tongue – first around one, then the other, kissing between each breast as she makes her way back and forth and repeats the action.

When the sensations become too much, I sit up part way to remove her nightgown.

I’ve barely begun to lift the bottom when she grabs my hands and pins me back down onto the bed without warning.

“You need to ask for permission, Lucca.”

I just lay there for a moment, unsure of what to do. I had never been in a dynamic like this before and was not entirely sure whether this was a type of power role-play that Kathryn engaged in for sexual enjoyment, or whether she was actually serious.

After a minute of contemplation, it occurs to me that it doesn’t matter. Her demand has turned me on regardless – at a level that I would have never imagined – so I proceed to ask for permission.

“I want to remove your negligée, Captain Kathryn,” I manage to squeak out, my arousal evident. “I need to touch you. Please.” My voice is stronger now.

Kathryn just nods as I again lift the garment to reveal her large but well-proportioned breasts. I reach out and gingerly cup one in each hand. Still straddling me, she allows my fingers to caress her nipples for a moment before bending forward at the waist, allowing her breasts to hang just in front of my face. I inch my mouth closer as she snaps back upright.

“What are the rules?” her voice is suddenly stern.

I wasn’t used to this kind of torture. Death by teasing if you will. However, I already couldn’t imagine being any other way with her. Nor did I want it.

“I want to kiss your breasts, Captain Kathryn. Please let me.”

“That’s my girl,” her voice murmurs as she leans forward again within reach of my waiting mouth.

I hungrily lap at her nipples, back and forth, alternating between slow circles and flicks. Placing my hands underneath her breasts for support, I lightly bite her nipples and gauge her reaction. This sensation elicits a moan – the first that I’d ever heard from her. It stirs something deep within me and I all I can think about is extracting more of this sound.

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