Robert Desmond
Seduced young wife
CHAPTER ONE
A hum filled Lynn Shaffer's ears as she began to arouse herself from her half-sleep. She was dimly aware of a delicious warmth which permeated her entire body, forming tiny beads of perspiration on her forehead and letting a faint dampness invade the sheltered places beneath her arms and down between her small, smoothly rounded thighs. She rolled over onto her back, vaguely conscious now of the texture of the terrycloth towel which lay beneath her, and of the sweltering sun standing high over her in the cloudless Caribbean sky.
The hum grew louder as she began to wake up. She wondered vaguely what it was, and then remembered. Of course. The Vera's motor. Harry Johnson's motor yacht. She thought perhaps the yacht had ceased its gently rhythmic rolling motion, a rolling that had coddled her to sleep on the deck just like her water bed at home, but then had decided it had not.
"Mmmm… Mark?" Lynn murmured quietly, and a faint smile tried to awaken her still sleeping mouth. It was a small mouth, mischievous, almost pixyish but not quite. There were a few strands of long, blonde hair stuck to the dryness of her lips, and she unconsciously pulled them away, licking her lips into life at the same time.
Lynn Shaffer was a small woman, with a neatly formed, symmetrical body, that made one think immediately of a physically mature 16 year-old. And even though Lynn was 30, her face bore none of the traces of wear that begin to worry so many women of that age. Her secret was that she had kept a great deal of the child in her; not consciously, but with an unpretentiousness and ease which was immediately apparent to anyone who looked at her. She had rather large, softly luminous brown eyes, and a slightly turned-up nose, which only combined once again to give her face a childish innocence and a look of boundless energy.
The wind had veered since morning, and now played a cool and refreshing game with the tiny blonde hairs on Lynn's smooth, lovely arms as she lay on the bobbing ship-deck. She sighed pleasurably. Hmm, that felt good. She reached up and loosened the top of her small bikini slightly, and let the wind's freshness drive out some of the heat and dampness from between her firmly rounded breasts. She stretched an arm lazily across her softly flat belly, raised a knee and spread her legs slightly apart to let the air circulate up between her thighs, all the way up to where a few tightly curled pubic hairs managed to escape from the confining grasp of her bikini.
She thought about the last day and a half, and decided she had done a good job. Her husband, Mark, had told her to be friendly to Harry Johnson, and had said that the sale of Mark's used car lot to Harry might depend on the impression they gave him this week. And Lynn had done her best. She instinctively knew when men found her attractive and entertaining, and she knew that Harry Johnson was now numbered among those men. There was nothing premeditated in this, for Lynn was definitely not a scheming woman; it simply grew out of her own vivaciousness and joy. Johnson had been attentive since they had set sail, and Lynn felt now that he was won over.
Harry Johnson was a different man on this cruise than he was at the office, she decided. Here on the boat he was relaxed and very friendly, but at the office… Lynn had worked as a part-time bookkeeper for Harry's used car business for six months now, and had gotten to know first-hand the hard sell drive that had made his lot the largest in Marina, her home town. At first it had seemed strange to be working for someone who was competing with her husband's own car business, but Mark's lot was so small, and they did need the money. Besides, Mark had finally agreed, and had even helped her get the job. Still, she knew that Mark didn't really like the idea, even though she was helping to make ends meet.
Lynn rolled over onto her side, and watched as the azure blue water of the Caribbean slid past the hull of the powerful motor yacht. She was aware now of the gently pitching motion which, if she closed her eyes, made her feel as if her head were growing heavier, only to be lightened again as the bow raised itself out of the water, and sent the weight rushing down through her legs. She concentrated on this peculiarly exciting sensation as it struggled to awaken every part of her body, and the almost imperceptible swaying of her body from side to side against the softness of the towel and the hardness of the deck made her think again of her husband.
"Mark…" she whispered, carefully forming her lips around his name. She smiled. She was happy to be where she was, happy to feel the coolness of the wind across her almost naked body, happy to feel the motion of the sea through that body as though she and all the oceans of the world were one. And she was happiest of all about having the chance to help Mark with his business, to really contribute, to make sure he would know that she wasn't the "little kid" he sometimes called her affectionately.
She could hardly wait to see him in Nassau, even though they'd been married over a year and a half. She hadn't wanted to come on the cruise without him, but everything seemed to have worked out fine. Harry Johnson and his wife Kate had invited them for a week's cruise, and Mark had immediately accepted. Lynn knew that this was an important chance for him to settle the business deal with Harry, who'd offered to buy out Mark's business for a very generous sum. Mark hadn't told her how much, but she knew that it was a lot, and she knew it was very important for Mark to firm up the deal. Mark has ambitions, she thought proudly, and I am going to help him realize them.
At the last minute though, Mark had had to go out of town, to talk with some people in Miami, and he had been afraid that to call off the cruise might offend Johnson and jeopardize his chances of selling his lot. He had asked Harry if he would mind if Lynn went along without him, and if he flew over to meet them after a few days in Nassau. Harry didn't seem to mind, but when Mark had told Lynn she had had reservations.
Lynn laughed at herself now for being so worried. The only thing she could think of last week when Mark told her was being alone with her boss and his wife on a ship for two or three days. She had heard vague rumors about him, rumors she now knew must be circulated about every boss in the world. But Mark had convinced her that if she went and had a good time with the Johnsons, it would help him tremendously in his business deal, and she would enjoy it besides. Kate Johnson had also called her on the telephone that night, and Lynn was reassured that this woman with the friendly voice would be along as well, so what could happen?
Lynn laughed a small laugh to herself and picked at a strand of her windblown hair, which was dancing in wavelike motions around her head. Sometimes she was so afraid of men.
"Grow up," she chided herself, and laughed again. She was on a beautiful yacht in the middle of a wide open sea, with nothing but the sun above her and the surging motion, up and down… up and down…
Lynn dozed off again, rocked into semi-consciousness by the gentle rhythmic pitching of Vera. She would see Mark in another couple of days, and that would make things complete. And he would be proud of her for having made Johnson receptive to the sale. And Mark would run smiling to her… smiling… and his great muscular arms would enfold her… and Mark… he would be so happy with… proud… she was a woman not… little kid… and all right… everything would be all right…
Lynn slept, unthinking, as the Vera plowed her way to the east and Nassau.
CHAPTER TWO
Harry Johnson watched as the voluptuous Lynn Shaffer lifted her knee; he swallowed hard as she spread her lusciously inviting legs and rearranged herself on the towel, and wondered what it was going to be like to fuck her hot little pussy. The yacht had been at sea a day and a half, and he hadn't gotten to her yet.
Damn, he thought to himself, she's tougher than most, but she's going to be worth it. Harry took his eyes momentarily off the young woman's curvaceously reclining body, and turned to check the compass bearing.
"Take her a few more degrees south, Hans, and hold her steady," he said.
Hans Piemmel started. "Yes sir," he said quickly, and swung the big wheel of the Vera until the compass needle was resting precisely on a southwest bearing.
Harry looked at his captain, at his huge frame and his powerful arms resting lightly on the wheel. He could see Hans had been devouring Lynn's delicious body with his eyes, the same as he himself had, and he wondered what kind of perverted thoughts were racing around inside the cunning mind of the husky seaman. He laughed. What the hell, he thought, probably the same ones running around inside my mind.
Harry glanced down at his own muscled, hairy legs, and decided he wasn't in bad shape for his 45 years. His broad-shouldered, thick-chested frame was the result of punishing daily gym sessions, sessions Harry conducted with the same fervor that had made his the most successful used car business in Marina. Harry considered himself a successful lover too, and if the number of his conquests was any indication, he was right. Harry grinned. The idea of buying a boat had been a good one too, he decided, because now the conquests even came to him.
He looked back up the sloping deck of the cruiser, past the raised deckhouse, to where his new prize was laying, unaware of his plans completely. In the day and a half they'd been at sea, Lynn had not responded to a single one of his hints, had not even seemed to realize that hints were being made. It was frustrating, but Harry had handled this kind of situation before, and he knew he could do it again.
Lynn rolled onto her side, and the line of her small waist flowed smoothly up into the perfectly rounded curve of her almost naked hip, creating a profile etched onto the blue, cloudless sky as though it had been painstakingly sculpted and placed on the bow for erotic ornamentation.
That's my little figurehead, Harry thought, and decided Lynn was a great improvement over the carved statues set on the bows of the old sailing ships. He grinned a lewd and secret grin. He knew his figurehead was a real, live, flesh and blood woman, and he planned to take advantage of that fact before this cruise was over.
Harry glanced behind him, at the churning wake created by the powerful 370 horses down below decks. The Vera was really moving along now at 11 or 12 knots, and the breeze picked up the crests of the breaking wake and spun them spraying out in all directions. Yessir, he thought, the Vera is a beautiful boat. $75,000, but worth every penny of it. He had bought her only a month before, and this was her first, her maiden, voyage. Harry was taking her from Florida to Nassau, to take the place of the smaller boat he had just sold. The old boat had begun to bother him, reminding him of the days when he couldn't afford anything bigger or better, but now he had the Vera. Harry loved his new yacht like he had never loved a woman. "The only trouble is," Harry liked to say, "you can't fuck a boat."
He looked up along the deck again at Lynn, who seemed to be asleep now, the suntanned flesh of her belly undulating rhythmically, raising her small rounded breasts up and down in a seesaw of painfully inviting motions. Harry felt the warmth of the sun through his nylon swimming trunks as his aroused cock began swelling, jerking upwards in strict cadence, it seemed, with the sensuous movement of the susceptible young blonde girl's body. It swelled until it was straining at the restrictions imposed by Harry's trunks, but Harry didn't notice. He was watching as if hypnotized by the methodical in and out, in and out, of Lynn's breathing, feeling the motion of her petite little body in his loins, feeling the delicious warmth of her naked breasts pressing firmly into his great hairy chest, her hungrily straining legs locked around his plunging hips, her hot breath on his face… Harry's hand unconsciously sought his painfully throbbing cock, and he began to slowly massage it, giving it just a little more room inside his trunks, allowing it a new chance to fill with the blood his heart was now beginning to pump wildly throughout his entire body. His chest began to ache with desire, and his hand moved more quickly now over the straining nylon material that separated his penis from full freedom. His heavy balls throbbed with the pressure of pent-up sperm, waiting to be released… waiting… waiting to flow unhindered into the lubricated wetness of Lynn Shaffer's tight little cunt.
Harry couldn't stand it any more. He stood up quickly, and climbed the two steps leading from the cockpit to the deck. He lurched backward, thrown by a sudden pitch of the boat, and then began to make his way up the rail to where Lynn lay vulnerable in her near-nakedness. Harry reasoned wildly: one quick pull and that little piece of cotton bathing suit wouldn't stop him… nothing would stop him… he would be pumping out his cum into her tender young pussy before she even knew what was happening, and then…
"Mr. Johnson!"
The voice stopped Harry in his tracks. It took him a split second to realize where he was, and who was calling to him. Then he turned and looked down into the grinning face of Hans Piemmel.
"What… what is it?" Harry managed to get out.
"I just thought you might want to come and check this oil pressure, sir."
Harry realized with a start, that Hans must have been watching him all the time. Harry was momentarily embarrassed, and then angry.
"What the hell's wrong with it, you bastard?" he snarled.
Hans' grin didn't leave his face.
"As a matter of fact, not a thing, sir."
Harry stood glaring down at the sunburned, scarred face of his captain, uncertain whether to give him hell or to continue his attack on Lynn, and as he stood there, the anger began to flow out of him as quickly as it had come, and with it his painfully throbbing erection subsided. But Hans was right. Harry Johnson was not the raping kind, and he knew it. He would have ruined everything by throwing himself on Lynn, and he would have been beaten back by her first scream. No, raping a woman was for other men, Harry knew. Men like Hans Piemmel.
"You bastard," Harry said softly, defeated.
"Yessir," Hans grinned.
Harry stepped back down into the cockpit. He slowly stretched out on the cockpit seat, and shut his eyes.
"Man, she's a nice little piece, though," he murmured.
"Yeah," said Hans, "but an awful hard cunt to crack."
Harry glanced up at the captain, and then laid his head down on one of the life-preserver cushions strewn about the cockpit. He laughed.
"But we'll crack her," he said lewdly. "We'll crack her good and proper," and his mind began searching for a plan of action.
Hans looked over from the back of the large cockpit at the powerfully built body of his boss. He sneered to himself with disgust. Any man that would let another man talk him out of a good lay, was no man at all. If it had been me, Hans thought, looking up to where Lynn slept in blissful ignorance, that little honey's legs would be split in two wide-spread pieces by now. Hans' cock stirred at the thought.
"Not now little man," he murmured under his breath, speaking to his rapidly awakening penis, "not now. You'll get your chance, don't worry. Just leave it up to me."
Hans checked the compass, and brought the boat back around to south-southwest. Johnson may own this boat, he thought, but he sure can't navigate it. Hans could navigate it though. Hans could do anything when it came to boats. Ever since his fifteenth birthday, when he'd run away from his home on Dutch Curacao, he'd been working the boats of the Caribbean; freighters, mail boats, charters, yachts, you name it. It came naturally to him, and he sometimes liked to say with pride that he owed his skill to his Dutch forbears, the best sailors in the world. And now he was captaining Johnson's Vera. He looked at this job as a definite step up in the world, and he was earning twice what he ever had before in his life. But it wasn't the pay that made him stick with Johnson. It was the little dividends that Hans most enjoyed. Johnson usually ended up fucking every female "guest" on his cruises, but there were often guests who were a little reluctant to accept Harry's peculiar brand of hospitality. It was Hans' duty and pleasure to see to it that these ladies were made just a little more receptive. It had happened many times before, and it would happen again. The captain figured it would happen on this voyage.
Hans had one other source of income that sometimes arose from his cruises with Harry Johnson. Everybody on Harry's boat, sooner or later, did something he'd rather not have other people know about, and Hans was smart enough to realize that there was money to be made in knowing how to keep your mouth shut. Hans never came on board without his camera, stuffed down inside the middle of his duffel bag, and he had often used it. Even Harry didn't know about this little bit of free enterprise.
CHAPTER THREE
Harry Johnson started, and wondered what had waked him from the half-sleep he had fallen into. Then he felt a firm hand gently caressing his belly, fingertips running a ring around the tops of his bathing trunks, occasionally a long, cool finger darting under the elastic band and entwining itself playfully with his thick pubic hair. He lay for a moment with his eyes closed, sighing with pleasure as he felt the experienced fingers bring his slumbering loins to life.
Opening one eye, he looked at his wife, Kate, who was kneeling with her back to him, one hand playing a gentle tattoo on his belly, the other beginning to snake its way into the warm space up between his powerful, hairy thighs. Suddenly he sat up, grabbing her hand and forcing it under his bathing trunks to where his expectant cock lay waiting, his other hand slipping around under his wife's arm and squeezing one of her heavy, pear-shaped breasts with surprising violence.
"Caught you!"
"Oww!" Kate cried, startled by the suddenness of his move and the pressure his hand was exerting on her tender nipple, which he was rubbing painfully against the top of her scanty two-piece bathing suit.
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," he teased, as he took his hand from her breast. "I thought I was being attacked by the Sunday night rapist."
"You bastard," Kate said quietly. "I try to be nice to you…"
Harry lifted the short brown hair at the back of his wife's slender neck, and ran his mouth soothingly over her nakedly exposed shoulders. He nuzzled the hollow between her neck and shoulder, and playfully nipped the suntanned flesh of her tapering back with his lips.
"Am I forgiven?" he mumbled, running a hand along the inside of her warmly fleshed thigh.
Kate quivered with pleasure, and moaned just audibly that he was. She gave his awakening cock a last caress, and removed her hand from his trunks.
"That's enough for now," she said. "I just came up to bring you a drink."
"You know something, baby? It's never 'enough for now'. Not for me." Harry leaned over and took the tumbler of bourbon and water from her, and swinging his feet off the seat, sat up and took a long drink. He sighed with satisfaction. "Umm, that's good." He motioned his wife to come sit beside him, making room for her on the seat.
"I want to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth."
Kate looked at him, and laughed as she said, "Harry, you are the most transparent man I ever met. You get that 'I want to ask you something' tone of voice, and it only means one thing." She looked up the deck to where Lynn Shaffer lay innocently sleeping. "Well, she is pretty, I'll say that much for her." There was just a trace of jealousy in Kate's voice.
Harry chuckled. "And you are the most perceptive woman in the world. And the most understanding." He leaned over and gave a small kiss on her forehead. "Any other wife in the world would have her husband's head off if he came to her and asked if she minded if he laid some other broad."
Kate looked at her husband and forced a smile. "Would you be able to keep your great big paws off that girl if I minded?"
Harry started to protest, and then stopped and let out a hearty laugh. "Well, honey, I'll say this… I haven't had very much luck with that in the past."
"Well then," she said, again forcing her face into an approving smile. "I guess that settles it."
Kate watched as Harry laughed again, and took another drink of his bourbon. She didn't really mind the fact that he was chronically unfaithful to her, but she didn't understand why he always had to be sure she knew about it.
She looked again up to the bow of the boat, and tried to imagine what Lynn Shaffer and her husband would look like, twisted and contorted into a passionate and writhing embrace. Her eyes watered momentarily, and she removed a bit of mascara which had lodged in the corner of one eye.
Lynn didn't use much made-up, Kate thought to herself, as she wiped the mascara from her finger onto the deck, but what the hell. Some women didn't need it, while others… She looked away, bothered by the fact that she knew she herself was one of the women who did need make-up, needed it to hide the growing traces of wear and care that had begun to encroach upon her face the last few years. She tried to ignore the slight twinge of concern that invaded her thoughts, but could not. She knew in her heart that it was only a matter of time before Harry woke up one morning to discover that his lovely wife was beginning to fade around the edges. She knew as well, that the only thing which kept Harry tied to her was her looks, and her willingness to overlook his frequent amorous adventures.
What the hell, she thought, you can't expect a good thing to last forever. She had long ago decided to profit as much as she could from her marriage to Harry Johnson as long as it lasted, and she managed to do just that. She had decided to put up with his cruises, and had even begun to enjoy participating in the orgies that took place at least once a month. Hell, it was fun, and it postponed the inevitable day when Harry would decide to trade in his present wife on a newer, younger model. Someone like Lynn Shaffer perhaps.
She glanced at Lynn's sleeping form, and decided she was going to enjoy this cruise. She knew exactly what lay in store for the luscious creature whose husband had let her stray too far from the nest. She had seen it all happen before, and she knew she was going to enjoy seeing this innocent young bitch get just what was coming to her. She gave an audible laugh.
"What's funny, baby?" Harry asked, turning to her.
"Oh, nothing really," Kate said. "I was just wondering what Mark Shaffer would say if he knew the plans you have for his lovely young bride." She turned to him. "Do you think Shaffer knows anything about that business deal of yours?"
Harry laughed, and finished the last watery drops remaining in his glass.
"No, honey, he doesn't suspect a thing. How can he? I had to pay through the nose to get that information." He gave his wife a kiss, and added, "But it was worth every penny. I'd like to see Shaffer's face when I sell his property to the city for triple what it cost me."
"What does the city want it for, anyway?" Kate queried.
"Hell, I don't know," Harry said. "Some kind of big municipal complex, offices and courthouses and that kind of thing. What do I care, as long as they're going to buy it? And they're going to buy it, I've made sure of that." Harry was an expert at finding the right palms to grease. "Don't worry, Mark Shaffer has no idea his property is worth that much."
CHAPTER FOUR